#Red Robin Breakfast Hours

[dontbesoweirdkira]

There's just so much potential for platonic !yan Tim Drake that isn't really explored. This post may flop but I like to imagine that yan! Tim Drake is actually the worse out of all his brothers...

Masterlist

Requests: always open

Look...you and i both know that Tim is canonically unhinged. But Batsis!reader doesn't. It's so easy for you to forget that your brother Tim is so dangerous. I mean he doesn't really seem all that different from any other nerdy 19 year old. His body doesn't loom over you like the more bulky of your brothers, and his presence is rather...calming? I mean there's still a bit of uneasiness there but it's so subtle that you can brush it off

He's normal when he interacts with you. He doesn't bug you to spend time with him or uncomfortably touch you like Dick does. He is sweet and gentle...He knows how you prefer to be engaged with and respects what you don't like.

But, that's what makes him so dangerous. He knows you. Every. Last. Detail. He's gotten so good at being a nasty little fly on the wall that sometimes you forget he's even in the room. He's always around you, observing and collecting data. He's got you wrapped around his fingers and you don't realize it.

But it's not your fault. It's hard to even imagine that someone as mellow as Tim could ever share the same traits as his brothers.

Yan! Tim fully picked up just how intuitive you are and how you can spot red flags easily. He's so calculated and careful with every interaction. It's amazing how natural he makes these conversations flow. Well, they better. He's spent hours analyzing and practicing how to speak to you. His heart is pounding with anticipation, as every shred of information you give him is going right into his files on you.

Oh! The files he has on you? When Jason and Dick asked him about how many he had, he said only 4. Which is true. but those 4 files have much more information and pictures of you than they could comprehend. ...and he wasn't accounting for the hard drives and physical stacks of papers he stole. I believe Tim knows more about you than you do. When was the last time you've seen your medical records? Passports? Birth certificate? Is your ID even in your wallet? Don't worry, your brother Tim is keeping them safe for you.

Yan! Tim is a little stalker who may or may not have put a tracking/listening devices in your bag so he can keep tabs on you. <33 That's why he's always wearing headphones so he cab listen in. A small piece of missed information could cost him so much. Don't be mad, batsis! He cannot risk making you suspicious of him by asking you invasive questions so this is the only way.

I Like to think you automatically sit by him. whether it be during breakfast, watching a movie or in the car. You feel safer with him and it's a better option in your head than being with Dick who will be overbearing. Tim always acts cool, even a little annoyed by you at times but inside he's screaming. Your scent, your small smiles at him and nudge his shoulders when he makes a funny remark all send him into overdrive.

But i must say, it's exhausting for him to hold back his obsession all of the time. Sometimes he envies his siblings and how shameless they are in their obsessions. Tim Drake thinks about how great it would to be to just be hugged by you or for you to want to fall asleep on him like you do with Jason.

Sometimes, our creepy detective will slip up. He will say or do something that is odd to you

"I cannot remember the name of that song i used to listen to...what was it.."

"It's this one by that local band, sis."

"oh, yeah! wait...how did you-"

"I know you better than i know myself..."

"...what?"

*an incident happened where dick basically forced you to say i love you back. Tim was there and he was so so jealous*

"You love me the most though, right?"

You laughed, thinking it was a joke\

"Sure, Tim. You are my favorite Robin."

*Tim is very visibly becoming feral. Almost in the same way as Dick and you are slightly alarmed*

"...I'm your favorite Robin? So you do love me more than them."

"0-o"

He repeats it over and over again in his mind. If he was recording it like he does with many of your interaction, it will be on instant replay every morning as an affirmation.

That one time you were chilling in the study with Tim. His head was ducked, low into the computer. It was super late by this time and you didn't really want to bother him so you ended up leaving without saying anything, and headed to your room. Tim was beyond hurt that you were breaking his version of bonding time and you had the audacity to not even announce your exit. He's so swift that it startled you when he grabbed your wrist from behind. His grip was....strong.... to say the least..... and he questioned why you were leaving him.

speaking of his strength, Tim is so skinny that you forget he is well trained with a nice bit of muscle. Maybe not as strong as his brothers or Bruce but he can easily subdue you.

He's definitely broken a lock or two, to get into your room at the dead of night and watch you sleep. This is the only time when he can be as fucked up as he wants to. The unhinged look in his eyes while going through your things and taking what's interesting..The adrenaline that you might catch him, excites him. He can't help but to sickly smile as he makes his way over to you and observes. A gentle hand caresses the sides of your face. You're so perfect. He whispers on and on things he wishes he could tell you while you were awake and wouldn't think it was weird....

Maybe even once he's crawled into bed with you, wrapping his arms around you. So happy to be able to finally be able to cuddle like this.

And if you happened to wake up, and realize your dear brother, Tim was there...he has a plan for that. He knows how to play mind games on you and makes you seem like the crazy one. No one would believe you anyways. The locks are all fixed by the morning.

[orionremastered]

could you do a batfam x oblivious reader who’s so close to finding out they’re a vigilante, but she doesn’t even know if that makes sense? like nightwing crawling in through the window when he thought she was asleep, only for her to be awake and go “wrong house?” not realizing it’s her boyfriend.. who thought she was asleep

this made me laugh. very good thinking brains y'all have

Masterlist

Oblivious

Dick Grayson

The sound of your window sliding open prompts you to look up from where you lie your head on the pillow. You can't seem to get to sleep and maybe it's a good thing— you grab for the lamp on the bedside table and raise it high over your head.

Climbing through the window, however, is not a common thief. It's Nightwing.

"What are you doing here?"

The vigilante freezes, slowly looking up to meet your eyes. "I was told there was domestic abuse occurring in this apartment," he says smoothly. "You have a boyfriend?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Where is he?"

You look over to Dick's spot on the bed and only just now do you realise it's empty. There's a note written on paper that reads, OUT TO GET FOOD.

"He's grocery shopping."

"Ah, wrong apartment, then. Sorry to bother you." The vigilante then ducks outside.

Jason Todd

A loud crash prompts you to wake up— far earlier than you're used to. The sun isn't even up yet. Glancing to the side of your bed, you forget Jason's out on a business trip, what ever his business is.

You carefully climb out of bed, creeping to the bedroom door and slowly pushing it open. In your living stands Red Hood himself, dismantling an assault rifle.

"What are you doing in my house?"

The vigilante whips his head around, frozen like a deer in headlights. There's a long few minutes of silence where the two of you stare at each other.

"Gun's not working. I'll be out in a minute, just need to fix it. My apologies."

"Oh," you say, shrugging your shoulders. "Stay safe, then."

Red Hood nods, watching you return to your bed with a quiet sigh.

Tim Drake

Waking up at your usual time and kissing Tim gently on the forehead, almost as a reward for sleeping.

After eating breakfast as quickly as you could, you were surprised to see Tim still asleep and give him another gentle kiss, this time on the nose.

You've only got half an hour until you have to go to work, so you rush to the bathroom to get ready.

The Red Robin suit is draped over the shower wall, unmistakeable.

In your bathroom.

"Tim?" You shout, forgetting your boyfriend's need to sleep. "Tim!"

"What?" he replies groggily, slowly getting out of bed.

"The Red Robin suit is in my bathroom."

"Oh, uh, he asked me to clean it for him. We're sort of like, friends. I guess. It's weird."

"You never told me that," you say.

"It's a recent thing. Sorry."

You shrug and get ready for work, ignoring the suit at is it hangs in your bathroom.

Damian Wayne

"Emergency at work," your boyfriend had said. He gets a lot of those, you think. "Be back in the morning. Maybe later."

Now, going to sleep late— towards midnight, where Damian would have already dragged you into bed— you realised you didn't have on of his shirts to sleep in.

When he wasn't with you to sleep, you always sleep in one of his shirts.

You begin scrummaging through his wardrobe— which you never do— only for a shirt. You find one, your favourite black one, and pull it out.

Underneath the shirt, revealed as you yank it from the drawer, is a katanna.

"Oh. Oh."

It's late. You're tired. You've got the shirt.

It's probably just an antique piece anyway. Rich people have all sorts of things.

[castillon02]

A firm knock at the door. 

Tim, sitting on the carpet, waist-deep in print-outs from Black Mask’s latest debacle, looked at the door. Looked at the pile of invoices, photos, blackmail, and stupid little evidence baggies from Mask’s stupid little torture party. Looked at his couch, which was Evidence Island for that thing with Scarecrow last week, and his coffee table, the last refuge of JL prototypes. Maybe whoever was knocking at the door of his top-secret vigilante hideout would just go away. Or maybe they’d have the decency to bring their own chair with them. He picked up his phone and accessed his front door security cameras. 

Red Hood, one arm occupied by a pair of Old Joe’s pizzas, knocked again. 

On the one hand, Hood might shoot him. On the other hand, Tim hadn’t eaten lunch and it was (he checked his phone again) 8:13 PM. 

Tim turned all of his thigh-piles into carpet stacks and made his way to the door, where he removed three physical barricades, three digital barriers, and four traps for the unwary. He activated his “If I die in the next ten hours, this is the last person I was seen with” failsafe. Then he cracked the door on its chain. “Sorry, I didn’t order any pizza,” he snarked. 

Hood huffed a robotic sigh through his voice modulator. “I need a favor.”   

“I’m aware,” Tim said. There was no other reason for Hood to show up. And it had to be something complex, otherwise Hood would just do what he’d been doing, which was texting him a casefile and sticking a “One month of no murder attempts” coupon to Tim’s door when Tim solved it for him. 

Hood held out the pizzas and waited. He didn’t even twitch his hand towards his gun. 

“Fine.” Tim undid the chain and opened the door for him.

Hood left his helmet on one of the hat hooks by the front door, revealing a wryly curved mouth and eyes that weren’t any more Lazarus green than usual. He even gestured to the guns at his side with a cock of his head. Leave those here too? A generous offer from a crime lord who loved shooting people. 

Tim shrugged. If it got down to violence, he’d rather Hood not be grumpy about it. 

Hood shrugged back, kept his guns, and followed Tim into the solarium, which was an antechamber that Tim mostly used when he wanted to taunt potential snipers. It had a breakfast nook, two barstools, a dead plant from his well-meaning decorator, and ceiling-length bulletproof windows. 

Tim tinted the windows with a flick of a wall switch. 

“One Canadian bacon with onion and artichoke hearts,” Hood—Jason—said, dropping a pizza box in front of the left stool. “And one basil and roasted garlic with extra pecorino.” He dropped the other pizza in front of the right stool and sat. 

Tim sat next to him. “Thanks for getting my order right.” He could be polite. 

“I asked Alfred,” Jason said. 

Proof someone else knew that Jason intended to visit him. Jason really didn’t want to kill him. At least at the moment. 

(Jason’s pizza order had changed from when he was a kid; he’d always ordered the meat-lover’s before, maybe for the extra calories. Food insecurity sucked.) 

(Tim’s tastes had changed too, but his pizza order hadn't. No one ordered “Canadian bacon with onion and artichoke hearts” unless it was for him, specifically, and it was…nice, knowing that whoever had ordered the food had thought of him. Mental insecurity sucked too.)   

They did justice to Old Joe’s thin-crust for a while, eating in silence. 

When he only had a couple of slices left, Jason took a deep breath and said, “None of this leaves here, aright? Tell anyone I asked about any of this and you’ll wish you were dead.” 

Tim waved his hand. “Duh.” 

“Right. Okay.” Jason rubbed his forehead. “You know how sometimes start-up companies get successful and then they suddenly realize that they have a million employees instead of ten and that they should probably have things like an HR department and a pension plan?” 

“Ah,” Tim said. Jason “Red Hood” Todd didn’t need the help of Red Robin, teen vigilante. He needed the help of Tim Drake, teen CEO. “You got your fiftieth employee?” 

“I have to know what FMLA is now,” Jason said, a thousand-yard stare in his eyes. “It’s basically what I’ve been doing anyway, but there are so many subparts.” 

Tim made a sympathetic noise. 

“And I’ve been meaning to set up some kind of…retirement…thing…for the past two years,” Jason continued. “Pretty much since I started, but there always seemed to be bigger things, you know?” 

Tim nodded. Effective long-term policy or not, preteens addicted to fentanyl could definitely make someone put a 401k plan on the back burner. 

“And I had Gloria handling birthdays!” Jason said, obviously on a roll now. “Like getting cards for everyone on the day and getting them signed and all? But she had to move to Florida cuz her Mami’s getting up there, and no one else wants to get the cards and pass them around, but now I’ve got grown-ass armed adults who are miffed that their birthdays don’t get a card, and some other people think there should be cake too if we’re going to be revamping the birthday system anyway!” He looked at Tim, his eyes wild. “The whole thing is distracting everyone from killing traffickers and setting up community support systems! Grown-ass adults! Birthdays!” 

“Birthdays are the devil,” Tim said, sympathetic. The Wayne Enterprises R&D department had had a brief kerfuffle over them too. 

“Incarnate,” Jason said. “But also, no. I mean, I get it, some of us ain’t had people who celebrated our birthdays before! I want everyone to feel appreciated. But at this point, all Black Mask has to do is say ‘cake and ice cream’ and his goons will be able to set up shop while my guys shoot each other.” 

This level of chaos didn’t just happen; it was likely only the visible part of an iceberg of underlying dysfunction. “Gloria did a lot more than birthday cards, huh?” Tim asked. 

Jason winced. “I begged her to come back and she said she was tired of nagging me about the pension plan.” 

“Good for her,” Tim said mildly. 

Jason glared. 

“It got you here, didn’t it?” 

Jason glared harder, but he stuffed his mouth full of pizza instead of threatening Tim with bodily harm. 

Tim flexed his fingers. Gotham was better with a functional Red Hood gang and this would get him unprecedented access to Jason’s plans, but he also needed to come out of this alive. “If I help you with this, I’m going to need to know a lot about your organization.” He held up a pre-emptive hand. “I don’t care about your exact plans for Gotham’s drug trade, but we’ll be looking at your org charts—your chain of command—and getting nitty-gritty about it. Also, I want to be compensated as a consultant.” 

Jason frowned. “You want money?” He glanced at Tim’s ostentatious kill-me windows. 

Tim shrugged. “You can choose. I’ll bill you a fair amount, and you can compensate me with your money or with an equally valuable amount of your time—and I’ll know how much you value your time in an exact dollar amount by the time we’re done.” 

Jason snorted. “That your usual deal when you’re a consultant, or is that a Jason Todd special?” 

Tim smiled his best Janet Drake smile. “It’s the exact same deal I offer anyone in the JL or the vigilante community. The Jason Todd special is when I let people roll up in my DMs for the low, low price of not slitting my throat. Again.” 

Jason had the grace to glance away. “Gotcha. Better get started then. Like you fancy CEO types say, time is money.”

"Like we fancy CEO types," Tim corrected, and had the pleasure of watching Jason wince. Time for Red Hood to get his hands dirty with all the blood and ink that went into being a responsible twenty-first century boss.

[nikovraskol]

this is gonna be very long winded so apologies in advance!

I’ve noticed that the readers ages of 16, 18 and 21 feel more important since they’re like a checkpoint for important parts of their lives. 18 is when they butted heads with their family more often, 21 is when they died and 16, well that’s the age that the returned to.

what would it have been say at 16 they were on autopilot so they went to breakfast and Alfred (and by extension the rest of the family ) didn’t realise something was off about them until later?

what if they returned at 18 instead of 16 when their relationships were more volatile with the bat fam?

or heck maybe at 21 a month, week, day or hour before getting shot- say if they were able to contact the police beforehand or at least call Alfred for help if they were shot but the last timeline warned them enough that they avoided lethal wounds?

(bonus: Bruce or the others - I’d expect Jason to pop up from a seedy alley- finds them after being shot and on the verge of dying, but they’re saved just in the nick of time)

(bonus bonus: they get greedy and kidnap surprise adopt multiple different versions of reader and their batfams go nuts because they “went missing”)

GRR come over here and kiss me on my hot mouth i'm feeling romantical also i will carress you for picking up on the age thing.. like damn u actually read my shi

masterlist

at sixteen, if you were to go to breakfast and act on autopilot! then congrats! you'd be able to leave (for a month). it'd be difficult because bruce wouldn't check on you so you couldn't ask him for funds. but if you were to ask alfred maybeee he'd give it to you, so long as you don't say what it's for, of course.

so then, you're living happily, peacefully even. for two months, you live your life like a normal person! until one fateful evening when you're casually lounging about -- someone knocks on your door. weird, but okay.

you open the door, and there stands fucking batman and robin just. standing there.

"we're here to--"

you slam the door on their face. now, because you've acted on auto-pilot, they didn't interact with you in the same way they did in the og story, so you're understandably confuddled. because? why the FLIP is your estranged family at your door?

over the course of the next few days, strange events occur. you go to the diner down the road to get some food and red hood slides into your booth wordlessy. you're walking home after going to the store and nightwing literally APPEARS and offers to carry your groceries. your phone's battery is mysteriously depleting fast, flipping orphan and spoiler show up at your school, hanging around.

worst of all, no matter where you go -- there's that bat-shaped shadow following you. if you look up, you'll see the outline of his cowl, and if you lock eyes he will swoop in, to save you -- of course! so keep your head down, savour your freedom for as long as possible but don't ever get too comfortable.

at eighteen? ooh i feel like a fly mischeviously rubbing it's hands together.

twenty-one year old you waking up eighteen, well, dare i say, it's better than waking up sixteen.

eighteen you had preemptively distanced yourself from the family for you. you're a legal adult, so you can work -- and best of all? (you can smoke ciggerattes) you have actual friends.

up until your eighteenth birthday, your every waking thought was on how to be better, to get better -- so with you becoming a legal adult -- well you understood that there isn't much for you to do anymore, you began to focus less on yourself and more on you. despite that, there was still the nagging feeling heavy in your chest that you'll never be accepted, never be apart of them -- there was a part that yearned for that acceptance, however late it maybe.

so your sudden disinterest wasn't alarming, not really. until you've finally found a good place, in a nice area. you're packing your stuff casually when bruce walks into your room for the first time in fuuck knows how long (because alfred asked him to).

"where are you going?" he is flabbergasted, but keeps a cool expression on his face as you give him the most diabolic side glare ever.

"i'm... leaving?"

lmao, no you're not! all of a sudden this calm procedure turns into a whole thing. give bruce the name of your landlord, he wants to see if they're good -- in fact, he can buy the house off of them so you don't have to pay a thing!

dick and jason are literally scanning every part of your new apartment, top to bottom, every single thing.

"this is not safe, these windows don't even have locks." jason sighs, analysing your windows with such scrutiny it makes you uncomfortable.

"this chain is broken! tut, tut, you can't live here!" dick adds on, ignoring the fact that the chain on your door is fine and that one chip on it won't get you killed.

tim begins to talk to you about finances, but he overexplains it using words you can't even begin to comprehend -- you're pretty sure he's doing it on purpose, what with the smug grin on his face.

"didn't bruce buy the building?" you ask, your eyes narrowed as you watch him scribble down numbers and whatnot.

"..no comment."

while those buffoons are doing that, you're being pressured by damian to stay.

"why must you leave? to live in a crappy old shack? just stay in the manor, it's safer for you." he's literally DOWN your neck with these types of comments. meanwhile, you're reeling 'cause what the fuck is going on?!

whether you give in or not is up to you -- just know, you will one way or another return to the manor.

as for the last one, let's say you get transported back five minutes before getting shock. which pisses you off 'cause what're you supposed to do in five minutes!?

nonetheless, you manage to get away with being shot once instead of five times, so you have enough energy to limp away -- and then you bump into red hood.

oh damn, oh damn, wow, so he's going to shoot you to -- or that's what you think, what you don't expect is for him to pick you up and literally shoot your offenders.

wow, okay.

you get taken back to the manor and you're literally reeling as they fuss over you, "how could you be out so late!?" this or "why do you need a job!?" that.

it's a shortcut to being locked in the manor, they take care of you like you're incapable, dick spoonfeeding you despite your protests, tim sitting silently besides you which makes you stress because he's so unnerving, cass hovering around you -- bringing you everything you need, sometimes you don't even realise you need it until she brings you a glass of water because you 'looked thirsty' (???).

this isn't just restricted to when you're recovering. you nearly died because of their negligence! so they pay extra attention to you, just so you don't get any silly ideas about walking gotham alone at night. honestly? what were you thinking, it's a good thing they're here to protect you.

(also side note ; the idea of jason being NEAR (name) when they died, but not knowing is so eghsudg to me, like he'll learn about where they died after finding the crime scene and he falls into a pit of despair because if he had taken the right route, if he had followed his instincts, he could have saved you.)

as for the last, last one. let's say you're a random variant of (name) from another universe and you've gotten transported without knowing it, you walk home morosely.

as you open the door, you are greeted with countless different versions of you -- all of them wearing the same expression of confusion. you don't know how to react when dick spots you and shouts, "we got another one"

guys if u sent an ask or request I WILL get them done.. i'm just being a lazy bum, thank u for the kind words tho everyone <3

[ew-selfish-art]

Dp x Dc AU: It’s not the usual suspects trying to summon the undead this time, and it’s proving to be a massive headache for John Constantine. They seem...Competent. 

When John sniffed out a new plot to summon a ghost, he kind of laughed it off. Ghosts were not more than shades of the people/creatures they used to be, without all the right resources and enough buy in from the greater spirits of the Infinite Realms, most entities that came thought might scare some kids at a slumber party but that was at most. Plus, kids were scary resilient these days thanks to the internet, so really, John’s not worried. 

Then he hears about the gathering of artifacts and he has to care a little more. He learns that one Jasmine Fenton is involved and he’s... Surprised. She’s got a public record of dismissing her parent’s inventions and causing stirs at supernatural conventions (not to mention a great reputation as a research focused psychologist). Jasmine’s credit cards report a great deal of cash (refunded to her account by an unknown off-shore account) being taken out and her location is right next to the last place anyone could find a shard of the Crown. 

Yeah, that Crown. The Infinite, ancient blessed and deity cursed one. John had meant to get around to investigating if the shard of obsidian (fire forged) was legit, so he begins to set his sights on Jasmine for a ‘chat’. 

Then Sam Manson, a scary ass Heiress, pulls up in a limousine and all but kidnaps him and dumps him outside city limits. She tells him that he’s been cursed for the next 48 hours to stay out of their city- If he comes close, any plant will identify him in a heartbeat and come to life to kill him. (Fun fact: there are a goddamn lot of plants surrounding this stupid town, even the dandelions are forging knives to kill him.)

THEN worse, Red Robin gets on his ass about cybersecurity of all things. Turns out another player, identified by the moniker TooFineTooFurious has been tracking John’s phone and has been rummaging around official JLD documents- How was John supposed to know that keeping his passwords on the notes app could be hackable? Red Robin declares him incompetent and John can only sigh, crush his phone and move on. 

That all leads him to the summoning portal in front of him in this weird ghost themed high school gymnasium. It’s far too competent. It gives him goosebumps even before he can read out that they’re summoning the King of the Infinite Realms himself. John clicks the panic alarm on his JL communicator before engaging with the Trio before him. 

They’re not wearing any capes, no candles are lit, but this is the scariest cult he’s ever seen. Jasmine Fenton, ghost denier, Sam Manson, Heiress and Plant Witch (?), Some other dude with a beret and fucking DRONES (he considers this might be the man who hacked him). John pleads with them, they don’t know what they’re trying to do. Pariah Dark will kill them all, eat their entire planet for breakfast!! Everyone rolls their eyerolls at him, and he’s taken aback by their nonchalance. 

Plant guards grab him and a drone has a laser sight on his forehead. He fights but is subdued- They’re almost done chanting when Superman, Green Lantern, Red Robin and Cyborg all appear. Despite their disruption- the chanting ends with the green illumination of the circle. Despair fills the air. 

And then- Poof- a groaning young man appears. 

“Dudes you have no idea how unhelpful the Infi-map is sometimes. I was lost for like weeks and CW was being such a bitch ab- What. Wait, who are all- Holy shit did you guys summon the Justice League?” The Ghost King in full Regalia stared back at them in questioning concern. The three summoners start bitching  at the monarch and John... isn’t sure if this is going to be an interdimensional incident yet. 

[livingund3ad]

[for the last time || в последний раз]

chapter warnings: suspicions of a missing person

01. | 02. | 03. | » you are here | ... |

————

From the eyes of [ Red Robin ]

Roughly 20 hours before the events of 01.

Tim’s body ached with exhaustion as he descended the staircase, his steps dragging slightly against polished wood. Last night’s patrol had been relentless, the city’s usual madness amplified by whatever criminal conspiracy happened to be brewing. Not to mention the hours-long Monopoly game Dick had insisted on dragging him into post-patrol.   

Tim rubbed his eyes, still sore from staring at computer screens and Gotham’s unforgiving nightlife. A sugary cold drink was the first item on his agenda. Food, a power nap in his room, and then back to work. That was the plan.   

But as he rounded the corner to the dining room, he nearly collided with Alfred about to make his way up the stairs, a silver tray balanced perfectly in the butler’s steady hands. The tray was laden with breakfast—toast, tea, scrambled eggs, and sliced fruit arranged with Alfred’s meticulous precision.   

“Morning, Alfred,” Tim greeted, his voice rough from lack of sleep. ���Delivering breakfast in bed to the princess of the manor?”  

“Good morning, Master Timothy,” Alfred replied with his usual calm warmth. “Indeed. It appears Miss **** has elected to sleep in this morning.” 

That was weird. She doesn't oversleep.

Tim raised an eyebrow at this. “****? Sleeping in?”  

“Quite,” Alfred said, though there was a slight furrow in his brow. “Though I admit, it is rather unlike her.”   

Tim’s fingers tapped against his crossed arms, a familiar beat of unease thrumming through him. **** was consistent, if anything. He couldn’t remember the last time she’d missed breakfast altogether. At least, that’s what Damian often complains about daily—her quote-unquote, insufferable, feeble attempts at connection first thing in the morning.

“Here, let me help you with that.” Tim reached for the tray, noting the extra dishes balanced along the edges. “You’re carrying too much as it is.”   

“I assure you, Master Timothy, I am more than capable—”  

“Seriously, Alfred. Then at least let me knock. You’ve got, like, five different things in your hands,” Tim interrupted, shooting him a tired but earnest grin. “I’m not taking no for an answer.”   

Alfred’s mouth tightened, but he relented with a small nod. “Very well, sir. If you insist.”  

They made their way up the stairs once more, and down the hall toward ****’s room. The door loomed ahead, as unremarkable as ever. But Tim’s mind kept circling back to the fact that ****’s door had been locked the previous night. He remembered Damian’s grumbling and how the kid had looked genuinely irked about it.   

Tim balanced the tray in his hands and knocked lightly on the door. “Hey, ****? Breakfast delivery.”   

No response.   

He knocked again, harder this time. “C’mon, ****. It’s Alfred’s food. You don’t wanna miss out.”   

Silence.   

Alfred shifted beside him, his gaze growing more concerned. Tim tried not to let his own worry show. But a chill crept down his spine, stubborn and cold.  

“She’s probably just passed out,” Tim said, but even he could hear the doubt in his voice. “Still, I should at least check.”  

He crouched down, his fingers brushing against the floor as he pressed his palm to the thin gap beneath the door. The air that seeped through was warm. Way too warm.   

The AC was off. And in the thick of Gotham’s humid summer, that could only mean the room was stuffy and unbearable. Which wasn’t like her at all. She didn't like the unbearable heat.  

“Alfred, do you have a key to her room?” Tim asked, his voice lower, more urgent.   

Alfred’s expression turned grave. “Indeed I do, sir. One moment.”   

The butler withdrew a small brass key from his pocket, his fingers steady despite the tension coiling in the air. He handed it to Tim, who wasted no time in unlocking the door.  

“****?” Tim calls out to her before the door swung open with a faint creak, revealing her room.��He realized just now that he'd never been inside her room before.  

It was...pristine. Neat, but lived-in. Posters of musicals and theatre adaptations on the walls, a hanging framed photo of her sporting a silver medal wrapped around her neck with Alfred on her side—presumably the aftermath of some swimming competition, books stacked on her nightstand, notebooks and sketch pads scattered across her workdesk, different sizes of canvases with paint leaning against the outmoded walls. Her bed was unmade, sheets tangled in a careless heap, but that wasn’t unusual.  

What was unusual was the utter lack of her presence.  

No sign of ****. No figure with a blob of hair peeking over the top of her desk chair. No groggy complaints about being disturbed.  

Tim’s heart kicked up, his sleep-deprived brain jolting into full alertness.  

“She’s not here,” Tim muttered, stating the obvious. His eyes sweeping the room with the precision of a detective cataloging evidence.   

“So it would seem,” Alfred said, his voice composed but undeniably troubled.   

Tim’s gaze snagged on her laptop, closed but not powered down, the faint glow of sleep mode visible. No phone in sight. He can attempt to track that. He crossed the room and snatched the laptop off the desk. If **** wasn’t here, then he needed to figure out where in the world she’d gone.  

“I’ll check her laptop. See if she left anything behind—texts, messages, anything.” Tim spoke quickly, his mind already racing ahead. “Alfred, can you—”  

“Alert the others?” Alfred finished with a slight nod. “At once, sir.”   

Tim met Alfred’s eyes, something cold and uncomfortable settling in his gut. “And wake up Bruce. Let him know ****’s she—she might be missing.”   

“Yes, Master Timothy.” Alfred’s voice was calm, but his hands trembled just slightly as he took the now-abandoned tray and moved toward the door.  

As Alfred departed, Tim’s fingers clutched the laptop like it was the only thing tethering him to sanity.  

**** could be missing. And if she truly lost contact yesterday afternoon, then she'd been gone for approximately 20 hours.

Something in chest began to twitch and tighten.

Just four hours left before it hits twenty four.

That was alarming. 

Tim should've made an effort to question himself why **** broke her pattern last night. It was way too off for her to do. **** was consistent, too predictable. He knew she liked her routine and didn't just easily break them, no. So why break them now?

His mind screamed five words over and over again.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

I need to fix this. I have to fix this. He has to fix it.

He didn't like this at all.

Taglist: @kneelforloki @shycreatorreview @pearlyribbons @homeless-clown @daffy-the-duck @1abi

[citrusandrottefruit]

Diagnosed with Hanahaki, a genetic autoimmune disease, as a child, Steve has learned to live with it. Along the way, he finds a family and falls in love with Eddie. He is never cured, but he lives.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Parte 5 | Parte 6

After a few hours of talking, Steve decided what to do: for the next few days, he would just go to work as usual (after all, he couldn't miss any more) while his body began to adjust to the new medications, and once he felt more settled and at peace with himself, he would go to Eddie, then Hopper and Joyce, and then the kids.

In Robin's opinion, he should come out as soon as possible, but Steve thought it was a much better idea to alert Eddie about his health condition, see how he dealt with it, and only in a few weeks, after he had already gone through all the difficult conversations he knew he would have, talk about his feelings.

“What if he agrees to date me out of pity, Robin? I couldn’t stand it.”

“Eddie has a lot of feelings for you, but pity isn’t one of them. He looks at you like he wants to put that whole ‘eat the rich’ thing into action.”

“Maybe, maybe.” Steve reluctantly agreed, only because he knew Robin had the best intentions, but he didn’t have the same perception he did. They were in the kitchen, Robin having demanded to make a healthy breakfast. “But he only knows me as a high school athlete and a…”

“Fighter in the Upside Down?” Robin offered. She was looking right at him, having abandoned the fruit she was cutting. “A protector? Hero?” She pointed at Steve with the knife, her knuckles white. Steve stared until Robin set the knife down on the counter.

“Yeah. A fighter, a hero, a protector. Whatever. That’s how he knows me.” Steve crossed his arms. “Someone capable. Physically, at least. I’ve never been very smart, we don’t have the same hobbies, I’m not as passionate about music as he is. I can’t even smoke if he wants to spend his time smoking.” He ran a hand through his hair, already feeling his chest tighten, his breath starting to run out. “I can’t even get a job without you to convince someone to hire me.”

“Steve…”

“I’m not saying I’m terrible or anything. I’m not, you know that, but the only thing that’s exceptional about me is this illness and my involvement with the Upside Down. If it happens again, I don’t think I’ll be any use. I won’t be the hero you’re talking about anymore. It would be too much to ask Eddie to want me right after finding out the truth. So I’ll tell him, but only after he understands what it means to have Hanahaki.”

The discussion ended there, with a hug and Robin admitting that he was right and betting that she was right too. Eddie was in love, she was sure of it.

Despite believing that she had everything planned and resolved, a few hours after Robin left, Steve saw his plans being ruined by a hesitant and quiet knock on the door, followed by two loud knocks and another slightly quieter one. Steve opened the door and saw Eddie, who looked strange, rocking on his toes and looking around as if he were being chased by Vecna ​​himself.

As soon as their eyes met, Eddie twisted his hair and asked if he could come in. Steve let him, because he couldn't deny Eddie anything, but he still didn't feel ready to face him.

Steve turned his back and walked to the kitchen, because at least he could pretend to be busy cooking, just so he wouldn't have to face Eddie head on.

At first, Eddie didn't say anything, just watched as Steve put vegetables on the counter.

"Did I do something?"

"Hmm?" Steve hummed without turning around.

"You've been avoiding everyone. Dustin said he talked to you on the phone, you checked on Max a few times, and I know you've been answering all the kids on the walkie-talkie."

"Yes."

“I don’t understand. I thought everything was fine. That we were fine.”

Eddie’s voice was so weak that, against his better judgment, Steve turned to him.

“We’re fine.”

“Are you sure? I don’t…” Suddenly, his face turned as red as a tomato. “Didn’t I do anything to make you uncomfortable?”

And because he was a weak man, Steve leaned closer.

“No, of course not.” Steve smiled, wanting to make Eddie comfortable. “Why would you think that?”

“It’s been almost a month since we last saw each other.”

“I know.” The answer was so low and shaky that Eddie stopped playing with his hair.

“It was right after we left here, me and Wayne.” Eddie says, as if Steve didn’t know that. “I figured you might want some space, at first, because I can be pretty tiresome.”

“Nah, man, I never get tired of you.”

Eddie blushed again and looked pleased.

“Then I thought maybe you were upset about the move.”

“What? No, I know you guys need your own space. It’s not to offend me or anything.”

Eddie blinked owlishly and then laughed.

“Uncomfortable sleeping in the same bed as me.”

“Ah!” Steve felt his face heat up. “Ah.”

With an appraising look, Eddie took a step forward. A huge step, which put the two of them almost chest to chest.

“Eddie…”

“I even thought you might have been hurt that you didn’t help unload our things when we moved, you know?”

“I wouldn’t be upset about something like that.” Steve mumbled, still not having the courage to walk away and wanting to run for the hills.

“Yeah, I know.” Eddie whispered almost inaudibly and Steve was forced to follow his mouth to understand. “That’s why I dismissed the idea.” Then he smiled and Steve had no doubt that he was caught ogling. “I couldn’t sleep well, because every time I woke up in the middle of the night, I remembered you.”

“Hm. Yeah. I… I almost looked for you last night, I guess I still haven’t gotten used to you moving, after all.”

Having regained consciousness, Steve prepared to step out of Eddie's bubble of personal space, but all he had to do was put one foot back and he was pulled back in. Despite the growing tension between them, the last thing he expected was to be kissed.

I warned you, Dingus! A voice sounding suspiciously like Robin resounded in his mind.

When Eddie tried to deepen the kiss, Steve remembered the bitter taste on his tongue, the traces of blood in his mouth, and felt disgusted and embarrassed. This time, it was easy to get some space.

For a few seconds, they didn't say anything, but Eddie looked so pale and scared, ready to run away, that Steve managed to force the words he had been dreading out of his mouth.

“I have Hanahaki.”

“What?” Eddie straightened up. “How? Who? Why?”

Although the questions were vague, Steve understood.

“My mom has it too. I was diagnosed when I was 9, almost 10.”

“10 years?” Eddie sighed. “10?”

Steve leaned against the kitchen counter, because he was tired, but he didn't want to have this conversation sitting down.

“Hanahaki?”

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?” Steve nodded. Eddie, alarmed, began to pace back and forth, stopping to look at Steve every few steps. “Hanahaki, that disease with roots in the chest? That destroys the lungs? The love sickness?”

“It's not like I described it, but yes, that's it.”

“Who was it, Steve? Was it Nancy?”

“What? No, man.” Steve laughed a broken laugh. “I told you I've had Hanahaki since I was little, I didn't even know Nancy back then.”

“So, who…? Was it your p…?”

“I don't know if you know this, but Hanahaki has genetic factors, as well as environmental ones. It manifested itself in my mother, then in me.”

“Your mother has Hanahaki?!” He seemed increasingly incredulous.

“I’ve been wanting to tell you this for a while now, and I think it needs to be now, before you say or do anything. Listen to everything I’m going to say, please.”

Eddie nodded in stunned silence.

“It’s scary, Eddie.” Steve said quietly, trying to find the right words. It was easier with Robin, maybe because he didn’t feel like he had to impress her, maybe because he already knew she would be by his side, maybe because he had left out so much. “Because I lived practically my entire life with Hanahaki. I don’t remember much of anything before the diagnosis, so I can’t compare it to… You know, a healthy body. I did a lot of things while I was sick, so I guess… I don’t know, I guess I thought I could do this, you know? That I could be strong all the time, that I could always run, be strong, that I… Geez, I said that before, right? Be strong.” Steve laughed humorlessly. “I could be an athlete who goes to the hospital almost every month and needs medication every day… I’ve had Hanahaki for 10 years. I’ve done a lot of things.” Eddie opened his mouth, but Steve held up a hand, so he pressed his lips together and waited. “I guess I didn’t even realize I was in the easy part. I didn’t stop to think about how much worse things would actually get, and I feel like it’s finally caught up with me.”

“Steve, you’re not going to die. You’re going to be okay, we’ll figure it out, anythi—”

“No, please. You have to listen, I’m just trying to think. It’s hard to talk about this. The only person who’s really listened to me is Robin, and we haven’t talked about it that much, so I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know how I should say this, so it might take a while. I need to think.”

After a few moments of silence, Steve assessed Eddie. Before Vecna, Eddie had always been so full of life, so loud, so theatrical. Steve had noticed it at school and when he picked up the kids after the Hellfire Club. After the spring, he changed, as they all did. He carried an air of tragedy wherever he was, lost in thoughts of suffering, inspiring infinite sadness at times. But he never looked like this. So still, barely breathing, and yet so alert, so aware of everything. His eyes never stopped moving on Steve, almost as if he was waiting to be able to see Hanahaki.

Steve thought that if he wanted to, he could stay silent and Eddie wouldn’t argue, because people could give in so easily when they thought you were going to die with the slightest disturbance.

“I’m not going to be okay and I don’t want anyone to promise me that. Now I’m going to tell you because it’s scary. I thought a lot about how to tell you this… It’s scary because I’ve known Hanahaki for years, but this disease still surprises me. A few months ago, I was so much more capable than I am now. I’m losing things all the time. Basic, simple, easy things. Things that I once took for granted. That’s what you need to understand before you…”

Steve looked into Eddie's eyes and blushed, because he could hardly admit that there was something between them without being sure that everything was clear. Of course, that was when Hanahaki decided to act and he coughed until he bent over, barely able to breathe. Eddie approached uncertainly and trembling, but Steve just stepped back and took a Hanahaki inhaler. From his pocket, he took a handkerchief and spat out some blood with pieces of the roots half dissolved.

The silence stretched on.

"That's it. That wasn't even bad. But it wasn't normal either, I'm just going through a bad moment, but I'm already treating it, I'll get better, it just won't be the same as it was before Spring." Steve explained embarrassed. "I don't want you to commit to anything without being sure what you're getting into and I have no problem waiting."

Eddie grabbed Steve's hands, not caring about the handkerchief, which got his hands dirty too. His eyes, the first thing Steve noticed romantically, were huge and scared.

“Steve, I won't regret it, you don't have to worry about that.”

Although he appreciated the sentiment, Steve got irritated and pulled his hands away.

“Well, what I need now is to make sure you're sure.”

“Okay, whatever you want. I promise.”

“It's not that I don't trust you, it's just that you don't know what Hanahaki is like. I know what it's like.”

“I'll research it, I'll learn everything. I'll become an expert at this! I swear.” The promise drew a wet laugh from Steve and, as if by magic, Eddie felt infinitely lighter. His eyes lit up and he reached out his hands once more, hovering over Steve's arms. “Can I hug you?”

At Steve's nod, they approached. Very slowly and with uncharacteristic caution, Eddie placed his hands on Steve's back. Steve huffed out a laugh and squeezed Eddie tightly, pulling him even closer.

"I won't break."

After that, the conversation was vague. Steve figured Eddie had a million questions, but he settled for asking if, even though he didn't know much about Hanahaki yet, he could stay and spend the night. As a friend of Steve's and nothing more.

For what seemed like the thousandth time, they lay down on the bed in Eddie's old room. There were no more personal items there, but Steve hadn't even changed the sheets yet, which were messed up on the bed as if they were waiting for Eddie to come back from a trip to the bathroom. He was kind enough not to comment, even though it was obvious he had noticed.

Unlike all the times they had slept together before, this time they cuddled. Maybe it wasn't the best idea for Steve's poor heart, but he was too tired to even think about fighting. To fill the silence, Eddie told him about a book he had been reading lately.

Just as he was almost asleep, Steve felt Eddie murmur something near his ear and asked him to repeat it.

“I asked if you’re going to need a transplant. I read about it once.”

“Probably.”

“Okay.” Eddie tightened his arms around Steve. “I can be your donor, Stevie.” Steve shook with laughter and felt Eddie’s smile on the back of his neck. “What’s wrong? You don’t believe me, Sweetheart?”

“Robin promised the same thing.”

“Oh, then maybe we’ll have to fight for you.”

That night, Steve fell asleep feeling like everything might turn out okay after all.

The next part is the last one. After that, I'll post some thoughts on it, for more context.

Tag list | @estrellami-1 @drips-and-drabbles15

[ladykailitha]

Heartbreak in Overdrive Part 5

I'm hoping that last week as glitch, but it seemed like the numbers were down on most of my fics last week. I hope this week will be better.

There is just this disparity from just six to eight months ago until now. I had 200-300 notes a post and now I'm lucky to get over 100.

In this we have their first meeting and we find out why Steve pushed so hard to for it be Eddie in this shoot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

~

Eddie tried to look into the photographer but he appeared to be a ghost the last three years. All his stuff prior to that were all Nat Geo stuff and he didn’t mean pretty pictures of animals and nature. It was hard core stuff.

Wars, famines, plagues. The worst humanity had to offer and he made it beautiful. The man had awards. Plural. Why would the guy be interested in a makeup brand? And how on earth would Ravenscroft have even heard of him to hire him in the first place?

It made no sense.

So since he had to use this guy’s ‘team’ he was going to make life as miserable for them as possible. He deliberately didn’t set his alarm, didn’t shower, and even stopped at Starbucks for a latte. He didn’t even like Starbucks.

He arrived about about an hour late wearing sweats and flipflops and a faded band t-shirt. He slurped loudly on his iced latte as strolled through the doors to the studio. His feet petered to a stop as he took in the scene before him.

The equipment had been setup with a large bed with red satin sheets in the middle of the room. The lights were soft and a warm yellow. Sitting on a simple folding chair just a few feet from the bed was a man setting up his camera.

Eddie looked around. “Aw... did I miss it? Where did everyone go?”

Then the man looked up at him with the most blinding smile. Eddie’s mouth went dry and he was out of drink. He gulped heavily.

The man chuckled and shook his head. He stood up and walked over to Eddie. “I was told that you might be trouble so I booked the studio for two days.”

The cloying nature of the latte seemed to have stuck to his throat because Eddie couldn’t breathe. He swallowed harshly. “You seem to have the advantage, as I don’t know jack shit about you.”

“Steve Harrington,” he said brightly, sticking out his hand to shake, but Eddie just stared at him. Steve shrugged and put the hand in his pocket. “This is my first major fashion shoot and I am super thrilled that you ultimately agreed to my terms.”

Eddie glared at him. “Something I am very much not happy about, by the way. My hair and scalp is very sensitive and the smallest thing can throw it out of wack.”

“So Vickie has been telling Robin and Max,” Steve said, nodding in agreement. “When we found out that you liked to have your own hair and makeup artist, we looked into why. So Vickie has been telling my crew everything they need to make sure everything will go well.”

Eddie blinked at him for a moment as he tried to process that information. “Speaking of your team where are they? I expected this place to be teaming with people.”

“They aren’t here right now,” Steve said softly. “I sent them off for breakfast and they should be back in about twenty minutes. Which will give us plenty of time for us to get to know each other so you can be comfortable doing the shoot. You were told we were doing a couple of nudes, right?”

Eddie nodded. He looked around for a place to sit that wasn’t the bed or the folding chair and spotted a large lounge chair in black velvet. He looked over at Steve suddenly reassessing the other man.

Steve followed his line of sight and smirked. “You can sit there, but I’ve got a better idea. If you’ll just follow me. There’ll even be a garbage to toss your cup.” Eddie stared at him in awe. “Unless you’re planning on using it in the shoot. Which I wouldn’t recommend hawking another brand.” He winked at Eddie.

“Yeah, no,” Eddie said breathlessly. He had been completely turned around and now he was the one off balance.

Steve led him into a side room that had all his changes of clothes and was completely decked out to do hair and makeup, including a sink and yes a small garbage can. Which he used immediately to toss the cup. But there were also comfy seating chairs and even a couch with the beautician’s chair in front of large mirror. It was his dressing room.

Steve sat in one of the large comfy chairs and indicated that he should sit too. He flopped on the sofa and wagged his eyebrows at Steve causing him to burst out laughing. It was a nice sound.

“So I wanted to go over how the shoot will go,” Steve said, broad smile on his face. “We will start you off on the folding chair, completely clothed and in white, but the make up will be dark. Kind of like a devil’s face on angel kind of feel. Then with each change of outfit the clothes will get darker and sexier while the makeup gets lighter. About half way through the transformation we’ll move on to the lounge chair, to really highlight the changes you’re going through. Then the lightest makeup with be with the nudes. Partly to show off your body, and party so I can return those sheets and get my deposit back.”

Eddie burst out laughing himself. Not at the plan but the deposit joke. “Well if I ruin them, I’ll pay the rental fees.”

Steve grinned back. “Thanks. Also, usually I use an assistant but not on nude shoots. My models don’t need an extra pair of eyes ogling them. Ellie will lay out the outfit and then leave. You’ll get dressed and then knock twice on the door when you’re ready for hair and makeup. Then Max and Robin will come in. Max will do your hair and Robin will do your makeup. Then you’ll come out and bring that extra something that Ravenscroft hired you for and then rinse and repeat for the outfits until the nude shots.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow. It all sounded too good to be true. So it must be the nude shots that were the catch. “Yeah and what happens with those?” he asked jutting his chin up.

“You’ll come out in a robe,” Steve said not rising to the bait. “And then when you feel comfortable enough to disrobe, you do so. But my team stays in the room next to us until you’re fully covered with the robe.”

Eddie’s jaw dropped. “God, where have you been my life? Like how is it so easy for you but so hard for everyone else?”

Steve’s smile was tender and a little pained. “Because I’ve seen the worst of humanity and I firmly believe everyone deserves their dignity. No matter who it is. But especially you. I’ve been to a couple of your shoots and you aren’t the big brat people paint you as. You just stand up for yourself because you know your worth and it is immense.”

Maybe instead of being a brat...Eddie thought. He could flirt with this man. Make him crack this facade of civility. Because it had to be that, right?

Right?

~

Steve glanced over Tommy’s shoulder and frowned. There was something wrong with the lighting.

“Hey, can I look at your earlier shots?” he asked, glancing over at Eddie who was becoming more and more irritable with each passing second.

But before Carol could hand him the memory card with another camera to view them in, Eddie erupted about someone blocking the light from the disco ball. Steve winced, because he had knew something was wrong but didn’t know enough about club lighting to figure it out before Eddie blew a gasket.

Tommy turned to Steve and waved his arm the direction Eddie had fled. “Do you see what I have to put with with this guy?!”

“Well, let’s go through the other shots and see if we can’t find who he’s talking about.” Steve steadfastly ignored the comment about Eddie’s behavior because he was close to saying the same thing.

It took them about an hour, but Steve found out that one of the male models in the background was out of frame, but just enough in the way to block out the light glinting off the disco ball. And worse, he had done it on purpose. He had been trying to get Eddie into trouble for the shoot and maybe in fired.

His reason?

The dude was one of five finalists that the liquor company had looked at before deciding on Eddie. He had a friend on the production who snuck him in and with so many extras milling around it was easy to just get fitted for costume and make Eddie’s day as miserable as possible.

So not only was the guy tossed out, his friend was fired too.

After that the shoot went so smoothly that Tommy and Carol took Steve out for dinner as a thank you.

“Man,” Carol said with a sigh as they waited for their food. “Like who the fuck notices that there was someone in their light like that?”

Steve shrugged, bringing his beer to his lips. “Someone who is used to having to fight to be seen. Someone who is so dedicated to their craft that they are so in tuned with his surroundings he can sense something is wrong.”

Tommy chuckled and shook his head. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were describing yourself.” He rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “I guess that makes sense. Probably why he became a model in the first place. What better way to be seen then through the lens of a camera.”

“Shit, Steve,” Carol whined. “You’ve got me kinda liking Eddie!”

Steve grinned up at them. “People aren’t usually assholes for no reason. There are a few, let’s not lie. But most of the time it’s because they’ve been treated like shit and now they’re trying to be shitty first so they don’t get hurt.”

He wagged his eyebrows and Tommy flushed. Because yeah, that was exactly what his deal in high school was.

“Okay, okay,” Carol said rolling her eyes. “We’ll be a bit nicer to the little shit. But he is still a little shit.”

Steve nodded and then raised his glass. “I’ll take that.”

~

Steve was on his way to crafty to find a water bottle or two, when he saw Argyle outside of a dressing room on his phone.

“Hey, man,” he greeted. “What’s up?”

Argyle looked up at him and then grinned. “Steve! My man! I’m glad you made it, how are you liking the shoot so far?”

Steve laughed and hugged him. “The food is definitely better and the access to clean water, too.”

Argyle patted him on the back and then stepped back. “Always a plus for sure.”

Steve jerked his head toward the dressing room. “You waiting on someone?”

“Huh?” Argyle said and then smacked his forehead. “Yeah. His highn-ass kicked me out when I was just trying to tell him the new direction the brand wanted to go.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said jerking his head back. “Did he say why?”

“Like I just walked in and apparently he was still getting undressed or whatever,” Argyle replied with a half-shrug. “I don’t see what the deal was, like he’s doing a nude shoot.”

Steve blinked at him in wide mouthed shock. “Holy shit. You just walked in while he was changing? Because he was a dude and doing a nude shoot? Like seriously what? Would you do that to a female model?”

Argyle reared his head back. “No, of course not. I could lose my job, man.”

“But you’re attracted to men, too,” Steve said scratching his cheek. “So don’t you think the same rules should apply to men as they do with women to avoid getting shit for it?”

“Yeah, I guess,” he replied grumpily.

Steve patted him the shoulder. “Just be mindful, okay? I’d hate to see you in trouble because someone accused you of something you didn’t do.” Then he turned on his heel and went back in search of his bottle of water.

~

Jonathan let out a sigh and turned to Will and Steve. “Well that went as well as come be expected. And for once I’m with Eddie on this one. If I can’t bring him into the shot and have it look natural and not like he’s just tacked on somewhere, I really shouldn’t be doing this.”

Will gave his brother’s arm a gentle squeeze. “I’m struggling to figure it out, too. Like there has to be a way to have the girls in the middle without taking the focus off Henry but not forcing Eddie to the back.”

“They need height,” Steve said shaking his head. “If there was a way to get some height on everyone else then Eddie could be in the frame but still kept from tearing Henry’s throat out.”

Will tilted his head to the side. “What do you mean, Steve?”

“Like if their were tiered like an Olympic podium,” he explained. “But with five of them, and you put Henry on top and Eddie on the bottom, then you get this beautiful affect and everyone is happy.”

Jonathan stroked his chin. “That could work. I’ll send a couple of PAs out, see if they can find something like that. I mean wedding rental places might have something similar enough.”

Miraculously a nearby theatre had used something like it for a recent production and was happy to lend them to Jonathan for a small fee.

They made sure it was safe enough to take the weight of the models and set it up. Then they sent Chrissy to bring Eddie back. It worked like a dream and made for a photo spread that could win awards.

~

Part 6 Part 7

Tag List: NO SLOTS OPEN

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4- @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @dreamercec @blondie1006

5- @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @genderless-spoon @fearieshadow @thesecondfate

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @chaotic-waffle @steddieislife @oh-no-its-danger-gays @ollieolive @micheledawn1975

10- @little-birch-boy @alfhitchblonde @tartarusknight @chocolateracconlights @spookycollectorcandies

[wondersinwaynemanor]

that time when Jason and Damian worked together in "spoiling" Tim to make up for the "murder attempts" they did to their sleep-deprived brother.

Tim wakes up from his room: What the fu- I don't remember how I got here.

Tim sees Jason and Damian casually reading by the corner of his room.

Tim: What are you two doing in my room???

Damian: Drake's up. Told you he's alive.

Jason: Oh, thank fuck. I thought you died.

Tim: What are you guys...

Tim recalls a few events from last night.

Tim: What did you put in my coffee, Jason????

Jason: Not my formula. It's the brat's.

Damian crosses his arms, looking like a mini Bruce: I believe we deserve a thank you, Drake. Tt.

Tim: A thank you for drugging me???

Jason: You aren't sleeping, Timmy. And you're just as stubborn like the rest of this family, so it was the best option.

Damian: Agreed.

Tim groans: I knew I had a bad feeling. No one is fucking touching my coffee ever again!!!

as soon as Tim stands up from the bed, both Jason and Damian immediately goes to either side of him, holding both of his arms.

Tim: Um... What are you guys doing?

Jason: Making sure you're alright.

Damian: We're merely guiding you.

Tim: Guiding me to the bathroom? I don't recall getting injured from last night. Unless you also added a another formula for that.

Jason opens the door of the bathroom while Damian's tiny arm is around Tim's waist.

by the time Tim is done freshening up for the morning, Damian is still in his room.

Tim: Dami, honestly, what's going on-

Damian: It's the hour for breakfast, Drake. Come now.

Tim: But I'm not hungry-

Damian: No buts. *he goes behind Tim and pushes him towards the door*

Damian is pulling Tim's arm until they arrive at the kitchen.

Jason is wearing an apron and putting food on the table.

Tim smiles: Jay, you're cooking for everyone? That's actually nice of you.

Jason: For everyone? Nah, only for you, Timbers.

Damian: Sit, Drake. *he pats the seat beside the one he's sitting on*

Tim complies: So, when am I going to hear the joke? Dick, come out now! We get it, we're bonding. Bruce, you on this too? I know this is what you want!

Jason and Damian look at each other.

Jason: What the fuck are you talking about, Tim?

Damian: Don't be silly, Drake. Now let's eat.

Tim starts to eat: You should know you are both creeping me out. But this is great. Thank you, Jay.

Jason shrugs as he's eating too: It's nothing.

Dick and Bruce peer from the entrance of the kitchen.

Dick has a wide smile on his face: I didn't think they were gonna go through with this. Although, the sleeping antidote...

Bruce: Was over the top.

Dick: I mean, Timmy isn't good at the sleeping category, B. So, how long do you think they're gonna do this?

Bruce smiles lightly: They're both full of determination. It's hard knowing.

Later at night before patrol.

Tim screams from the changing rooms: JAY!!! DAMI!! I CAN'T CHANGE WITH YOU GUYS AROUND!!! ENOUGH OF THIS!!!

Nightwing and Batman already on their suits by the batcomputer.

Batman: You lost, Chum.

Nightwing: Aw man. Guess I underestimated my brothers. But I do admit, it's nice seeing them working it out.

Batman smiles lightly: It is.

and good luck to the criminals who would come across Red Robin tonight, thinking they can hurt him cus Red Hood and Robin are going to beat the shit out of them. together.

[ledesaid]

Billy body-swaps #9

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Oh heavens, oh heavens, oh heavens!

By all the good in this world, what is going on here?!

Why are there a bunch of photographs of him and such chilling reports on the table?

By all the good people of Fawcett! What is happening here?!

Indeed…

Billy regained his composure after a few minutes of perfectly justified panic.

Following protocol, he set about investigating his surroundings.

There was a bit of everything for it to pass as a study or office, but it was missing something essential…

There wasn’t a nearby mirror or any surface that could reflect him. Yet, even though he couldn’t see himself, it wasn’t a good idea to leave all his information within reach of this stranger.

It didn’t take him long to gather everything into a pile and burn it to ashes, but once again… who is him this time?

His screams weren’t enough to summon Superman to rescue him; it was a very strange situation and undoubtedly a dangerous place. He almost wished he could go back with Flash’s Rogues.

Sitting in the lone chair in the room, he closed his eyes and waited as time ticked away… soon he would return to his own body and would have to file a report for Batman.

His host...

How much did this guy know about Billy?

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Guess who just broke five security protocols and reached the watchtower?

Yes!

You got it!

Jason is wandering through space in a Nightwing's half suit, sporting a striking red bat logo and some awesome combat pants, stolen from Roy’s old wardrobe.

After two years, his old Robin costume no longer fits him, and now a new Robin has taken up those iconic colors. Jason feels the need to find a new style that truly reflects who he is right now, not a Bat-zombie. He really needs that.

All of this is part of his ambitious five-step upgrade plan.

It was all a bit hurried, but he had a purpose. However, he hadn’t planned on finding Marvel asleep when he masterfully opened the door.

Nor did he expect to find a child. A CHILD! Hooked up to a bunch of machines.

Marvel was the code name for a child. What was a ten‑year‑old kid doing living in the watchtower? Is this how the Legue keeping metahumans captive because they can’t be controlled?

Why Batman? No. Why could Superman and Wonder Woman allow this?

There wasn’t much on the Bat‑computer about his history, and nothing indicated he was a child. What had happened to the kid?

Was it his fault?

Jason couldn’t stop pondering his possible implication and responsibility. Wandering in circles around the room, he mused,

If things are worse than they appear, this kid needs to be saved for his sake…

Jason: I have to get him out of the Watchtower!

But what if those machines were life support? Damn!

And what’s with that giant clock on his bed and its absurd countdown?

Is Marvel going to die?

Does he only have two hours left?

Jesus!

What about the League?

This is Batman’s fault!

So he just sat down beside him and began recounting his story…

Marvel had sacrificed himself for him... then he deserved to know who he had saved... No matter if they only have two hours, he would summarize his life as best as he could.

Jason: You’re the first... and possibly the only one to whom I’ve ever told this long story… You know, everything started when I was born… this woman… and then Batman…

╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Describe the feeling of being in a really awful state without using those exact words.

Billy returned to his nutritious breakfast, which said it all.

Jason: Marvel, are you okay?

Billy doesn’t seem to hear him, but he’s already sit.

That’s good.

Who is taking care of him this time?

Already seated on his bed, he noticed who was holding him…

Billy: Who are you?

Jason: Hello, Marvel, you really gave me a scare… that giant clock above your bed doesn’t exactly inspire confidence… or good news.

Billy: Yeah, it was Flash’s idea. He thought it would be fun to watch as time ticked away…

Jason: I’m Jason Todd, your host zombie.

Billy: Hi, I’m Billy… but I’m also Marvel, your meta‑hero and local master of possession.

Jason: Well, now that we’re done with introductions… are you here against your will? Please, tell me yes. I just need one reason to punch Batman.

║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║╝╗║

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | U are here

[estrellami-1]

Steddie Week 2024 | Steddie Microfic

July 7th prompt: Free Space - Mystery, Hands, Long, Trade, Exes to Lovers or Getting Back Together, Drunken Confession (aka I combined all the prompts I didn’t use this week) | July prompt: one

Day 1 | Day 2 | Day 3 | Day 4 | Day 5 | Day 6

Word count: 1,111

No warnings apply

Rated T

@steddie-week | @steddiemicrofic

It was never a mystery, to Steve, how they got together. How they worked together.

The only mystery is how he managed to let him go—to lose him in a way Steve hadn’t understood until Eddie. Because Nancy was great, she was fantastic, Steve was in love. He doesn’t doubt that. But it never felt like it did with Eddie: low lights in the club, hands on each other’s bodies, open-mouth kisses that really was nothing more than them panting into each other’s mouths—

Stumbling into the bathroom, or into either of their bedrooms, hands in hair and under shirts and unbuckling belts—

Sleepy, slow morning kisses. Breakfast. Holidays.

How did it end?

Steve thinks, remembers fists clenched at sides, red faces, stiff shoulders.

Remembers shouted words, cold shoulders, slammed doors.

Remembers the key left on the kitchen counter.

That had done it, he remembers, he had called Robin, already sobbing, and she was on her bike and halfway there practically before she had hung up the phone. She’d held him as he fell apart on the kitchen tiles.

Then again, when he went to go to bed. Saw the two pillows. Threw one off; it hit the wall, slid down. Had to change the sheets; they smelled too much like him.

It took him a long time—a really long time—to get to the point he’d be okay on his own for more than a couple hours, to the point he could go out to clubs again. Not the same ones he’d gone to, never those, but… he moved on. Kind of.

He knew, and Robin knew, that part of him, at least, would always love Eddie.

It’s why when they’re in a club—a new one they had just found, okay music but better drinks and prospects—and Steve grabs her arm, she looks the direction he is.

He feels like he’s swallowing sandpaper. “His hair is longer.”

“It is.” She pries his fingers off, just so he’s not bruising her anymore, but holds his hand. “What do you want to do about it?”

“I don’t know,” he mutters, watches the way Eddie prowls through the crowd, smirking at people, but still definitely on his way to the bar.

The bar. “I’m gonna get us more drinks,” he says. They both ignore the fact that they’ve barely touched their current glasses.

“Let me know if you need backup.”

“Will do.” He looks at her, for the first time since seeing him, and smiles. “Love you, Robbie.”

She rolls her eyes, but smiles. “Love you, dingus. Go get your man back.”

Steve makes it to the bar before Eddie, asks for whatever is on tap. Looks away at the wall. Can’t watch him walk up. 

“Long Island,” he hears directly beside him, and turns to see Eddie turning to see Steve.

He takes a breath. “Eddie.”

Eddie looks… he looks good, because he always does, but he looks tired, maybe a little thinner. Not… not good, not happy like he was. He swallows. “Steve.”

The bartender hands over their drinks, and Steve takes a sip only to cough. “Sorry, fuck,” he mutters, finally looking at the glass in his hand. He’s got the Long Island, and Eddie’s got his beer.

Eddie’s watching him with an interesting little smile. “Trade?”

“Trade,” Steve agrees, nodding. He coughs again. “God, how do you like that?”

Eddie snickers, pulls a lock of hair over his face. Steve wishes he wouldn’t.

Miraculously, they keep talking. They’re never searching for the next word to make the silence go away because there is no silence.

Eventually Robin comes up to him, pulls him into a hug. “Imma go home with that girl,” she murmurs, pointing behind her. A cute, preppy-looking blonde smiles nervously at Steve. He smiles at her, then back to Robin. “Of course. Call the house, give me the address.” He kisses her forehead. “Have fun.”

��Oh, I will,” she grins, then turns to look at Eddie, eyes narrowed.

Eddie gulps. She grins, scary as anything, and whispers something in his ear that has him paling. “Yuh-yep. Yeah. Got it. Thanks Robin.”

Steve grimaces when she walks away. “What did she say?”

Eddie looks at him for a long minute. “Something I’ve known for a while now,” he eventually murmurs. 

It was inevitable, really, that they would end up back here, hands in hair and under shirts, stumbling into Steve’s apartment, panting into each other’s mouths, trying to undo buckles by memory because the worst thing in the world right now would be to stop kissing.

“God, Steve,” Eddie gasps, pulling him down the hall. “C’mon- c’mon, please, need you, need you-”

“Yeah,” Steve answers against his mouth, just as affected. He’s got his own pants halfway off, thinking about his shirt next, thinking about the lube in the drawer that hasn’t gotten as much action as it used to, and suddenly he aches for it. “Need you inside me,” he mutters, kissing down Eddie’s neck, stopping at a place behind his ear that he knows from experience makes Eddie’s knees weak.

“Fuck,” Eddie chokes out. “Yeah, yeah, c’mon, c’mon baby, lemme in you- lube’s in the drawer?”

Steve opens the drawer in answer, roots around until his fingers close on the bottle. Pushes it into Eddie’s hand, pushes him away so Steve can get naked.

Eddie’s eyes rake along his body. He drops his own pants just as fast, limbs flying as he strips out of his shirt too, clambering onto the bed beside Steve’s hip, eyes wide and fingers shaking as he lubes up.

It’s after, when everything’s cooling and drying and becoming itchy, that Eddie’s breath wobbles. “I shouldn’t,” he mutters into Steve’s shoulder. “Shouldn’t say anything. But hell if I don’t miss you like crazy.”

Steve closes his eyes, tries to keep the tears at bay. “You’re drunk.”

“I had less than one drink.”

The tears win. “We broke up for a reason,” he whispers. “Didn’t we?”

“I was scared,” Eddie says.

“And you’re not now?”

“Only of losing you.”

Steve sobs, can’t help it, but he feels Eddie’s hot tears on his neck, too, and that somehow makes it better.

It’s the next morning, after slow, sleepy kisses and breakfast, that Steve sighs. “I never stopped loving you. I don’t think I can.”

“I don’t think I can, either.”

Steve slowly turns to look at him. “So what does that make us?”

Eddie shakes his head. “I don’t know. All I know is it makes me yours.”

“Yours,” Steve parrots, daring to curl his fingers over Eddie’s, breath hitching when he holds on just as tight. “That sounds pretty damn good to me.”

[radioactiveparker]

The Breakfast Club - Eddie Munson X F!Cheerleader!Reader

Part Two - Low Tolerance For Dehydration

Chapter Summary - We begin to learn the truth about why these kids are the way they are. (A retelling of The Breakfast Club, written and directed by John Hughes.)

Chapter Warnings - Characters are all 18+ / Strong Language / Illusions to Abuse/ Abusive Relationship / Dysfunctional Families / Kleptomania / References to Religious Beliefs / Sexual References / Drug References / Stereotyping / Angst

Word Count - 7.2k

(Series Masterlist) (Masterlist)

(Part One) (Part Two) (Part Three) (Part Four) (Part Five)

-----

Saturday.

October 25th, 1984.

Hawkins High Library.

10:30am.

~~~~~

After that rather thrilling event courtesy of Eddie Munson and Principal Higgins, the next two hours went on forever.

The grinding of gears, the hum of the electric motor, and the movement of the clock's hands invaded the silence. The second hand made a rapid clicking sound. You counted each one. At twenty-second intervals, the minute hand squeaked. The clock sounds became the percussion for a lullaby that almost lulled you to sleep.

Eddie remained seated next to you, spending the better part of an hour sulking that he had just wrecked the rest of his winter. The rest of the time, he spent scratching markings into the table with his car keys (which you immediately told him to stop out of annoyance. He ignored you, of course) and counting all the pictures he can see in the medullary rays of the wood. In his mind, he connected the lines and dots. Before his eyes, they formed the crude outline of a shapely woman with her legs rudely spread apart. He used the notebook paper to cover it up. He did not want to spend the next five and a half hours with a boner he couldn't get rid of. Especially one given to him by something as ridiculous as an imaginary table lady.

Steve was lazily picking off the fuzz of a tennis ball that he found in the lost and found box behind the front desk, piling it up in a small illuminous heap. The bald patches reminded him of principal Higgin's round, balding head. He picked at it harder, really digging his fingernails into the stringy felt like it had personally offended him.

Nancy was trying to write her paper. Normally, the undisturbed silence would be prime time to work on an essay, but she began staring off into space, her mind wondering. All she had managed to write was a title 'Who Am I?', her name, the date, and the time. Each time she would bring herself back to reality, she would check her watch, then erase the time and write the new one. 

Robin was hunched over, hidden in her hair as she scribbled over her cherry red converse. She wrote whatever came to mind; her name, milk duds, a drawing of the top half of a naked woman, a copy of her fingerprint. She kept going until the red had almost disappeared.

You rested your head in your palms, eyes looking up as you counted the tiles on the ceiling. You got to thirty eight when Eddie nudged you. You opened your mouth to scold him for making you lose count, when he slid a sheet of paper over to you. He'd drawn a tic-tac-toe grid and placed an X in the centre square. You grabbed a pencil and drew a circle in the top right corner, deciding to keep him entertained before he starts causing more trouble. He smiled cutely when you slid the paper back to him. 

The two of you played until both sides looked like a gingham tea towel. Much to your distaste, you lost 38 - 43. Eddie pulled tongues as the victor and you decided then to never play tic-tac-toe with Eddie again; you didn't want his head getting bigger than it already was.

The library door swung open and Principal Higgins stood with a scowling face.

"All right. Who has to go to the rest room?"

All hands shot up. 

Higgins gave a single nod, signalling that everyone could get out of their seats. You groaned in relief when your spine cracked, though you still had pins and needles in your left foot and your butt was numb from sitting on it for too long. The Principal lead you all down the hall to the restrooms, where he unlocked them with a jingling of keys.

"Two minutes for the boys. Three minutes for the girls." He stared at his watch like he was already starting the count down.

"How come they get an extra minute?" Eddie complained, pointing at the group of girl who all had their arms crossed, looking at him like the answer was obvious.

"Try and remember your biology, Munson." Principal Higgins rolled his eyes, still staring at his watch.

"Oh, right. Does that mean Harrington gets another minute?"

Annoyed, Steve pushed through into the bathroom. Eddie followed behind, laughing manically. 

The two of them rarely used the schools restroom, even for Eddie who was kind of a slob, they were too disgusting. Students only ever really used them to hide when skipping classes. The walls were covered in graffiti and a few of the tiles were cracked, and there was always something on the floor that made the bottom of their shoes sticky. They didn't even want to try to guess what it was. Steve stood in front of the urinal and unzipped his jeans. Eddie hopped onto the countertop and fished through his hair to retrieve the cigarette from behind his ear.

"You want one?"

Steve took a peek behind him. "Oh yeah, ten of 'em please. I need to prove I'm a man."

"Whatever man." That was the last time Eddie would offer Steve anything ever again.

He fumbled in his pocket, took out a lighter and lit his cigarette.

Meanwhile, the state of the girls bathroom wasn't much better. The floors were less sticky, but there was always tissue all over the place, and a funny smell in the air.

"Is this a drag, or what?" You looked at your tired eyes in the reflection and started complaining about them to the girls. 

Nancy rummaged through her purse, pulling out perfume bottles, make-up, compacts, brushes; an incredible amount of things that she probably didn't need. Nancy very helpfully let you borrow the make-up out of her bag. You were looking as good as new in no time.

"You want one?" Robin pulled out a pack of spearmint gum and stuck one in her mouth.

You looked at her repulsed. "Robin, you can't eat in the bathroom. What if you get VD of the mouth or something!"

She paused like she hadn't thought about that. She quickly walked to the sink and washed her hands. She grabbed a paper towel to dry them and then used it to open the door. She held the door open with her foot, wadded up the paper towel and made a three pointer into the waste bin. A shot that even Steve would find impressive, even if she did surprise herself making it in the first place. She didn't show that though. 

"You're into washing your hands, but you eat inches away from a live toilet?" 

She gave you an offended glare her, and left the bathroom, letting the door close on you and Nancy. You turned to Nancy and gave her a look that said 'I'm not crazy for thinking that am I?'. 

"I mean that was a little disgusting, but you could have worded it a bit nicer."

She walked out, leaving you wondering whose side she was on.

"I didn't mean to upset you." You called after Robin. "I was just reacting to something I thought was seriously weird. I mean, I'll listen if you needed some one to talk to about it." 

Robin didn't give you the time of day, just rolled her eyes to herself. She didn't appreciate the way you worded your apology; like she was the one with the problem.

"Let's go. Shake it off!" Higgins called into the boys bathroom.

Even with the extra minute you were given, the girls still managed to be done before the boys. Eddie opened the door, smelling strongly of tobacco.

"Where's Harrington?"

"Drowned." Eddie said bluntly.

The Principal crossed to the door and peaked his head in. "Alright, Harrington, c'mon. Lets go!"

Steve made a few final adjustments to his hair, raking his fingers through it to position his chestnut curls perfectly on his head. Principal Higgins dragged him out before he could finish.

~~~~~

11:30am

~~~~~

You laid across three chairs as some sort of make shift bed and tucked your coat underneath your head for a pillow. You had planned to take a nap, but Nancy had decided to sharpen her pencil. The winding and grinding of the sharpener grated your ears. She knew she was making a lot of noise, but she couldn't seem to get a good point on her pencil. She took it out of the sharpener, blew the dust from the tip, and examined it before shoving it back in. She had three quarters left of her pencil.

Steve had a straight leg on the front table and reached over to touch his toes, stretching his hamstring. How he did it in those jeans was beyond you. His little grunts of effort and heavy breaths as he switched legs annoyed you almost as much as Nancy's sharpening. Robin was in her same seat, picking at her black, chipped nails in her lap and chewing her gum loudly out of spite. How you had gone from sitting in hours of silence, to a sudden ruckus when you wanted to sleep was just your luck. 

Eddie had chosen to sit in front of you on the table, ripping out pages of textbooks from the history section. 

Nancy winced at each tear. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like I'm doing, Princess? I'm vandalising public property." He said it like it was obvious, loudly ripping another page to emphasise his point. "You get off on being stupid, or something?"

"You're such a waste."

Eddie placed the book gently on the table, giving it a few taps for good measure. He sat up straight, hands on his knees like a teachers pet. He nodded sarcastically in agreement. "You're absolutely right. It's wrong to destroy literature. It's such fun."

He jumped down off the desk, kicking up loose pages as he stalked over to his next victim: the card files. He pulls out the entire draw completely and lugged it back over to his spot on the desk. The unexpected slam of it on the table startled you, and you sat up with a huff. There was no way you were getting sleep any time soon.

Nancy scoffed as he began yanking the catalogue cards out and putting them back in a random order, creating a horrible mess for someone to sort out later. She continued to grind the sharpener.

"Big deal." You mocked her, she and the sharpener were really starting to get on your nerves. "It's not like there's anything better to do."

Eddie was impressed. He turned to you. "You grounded tonight?" 

His question threw you off, but you knew there was definitely more to it. "No, why?"

He looked surprised that you weren't, but he didn't know that your parents weren't even aware you were here in the first place. "Reefer Rick is throwing a Halloween party down by Lover's Lake tonight. Wanna come?"

Apparently, all it took was a few games of tic-tac-toe to get into Eddie's good books. There was a part of you that wanted to go. It was another excuse to get away from your parents, but you didn't want to imagine the shit you would get from Carol if she found out you had gone to a party with Eddie 'The Freak' Munson. Then Billy crept back into your mind. Your blood went cold at the thought. You knew he wasn't here, but you expected him to come charging through the doors any second now. You had to make sure he knew you weren't interested in Eddie. You didn't want another repeat of this morning.

"Why would I want to go to that crackhead's place? I'll probably catch a disease."

Eddie looked a little disappointed and a little offended that you had insulted his friend, but he hid it well. So why did you feel kind of bad?

You looked up at him with big eyes. "I mean, my mom doesn't like me going to parties anyway."

"What about your dad?"

"If I do what my mom doesn't want me to it's because my dad says it's okay.  And if I do what my dad doesn't want me to it's because my mom says it's okay. It's like this whole big monster deal. It lasts forever and it's a total drag. It's like any minute: divorce." You hated talking about your parents, but I felt good to get off your chest. Carol and Tommy never cared to ask.

"Who do you like better?"

"Huh?"

"You like your old man better than your mom?"

"They're both screwed." You sighed. You didn't like where this conversation was headed anymore. Nancy had stopped sharpening her pencil and you could feel everyone listening in.

"If you had to pick?"

"I don't know. I mean, they must have loved each other at some point, but I guess I wasn't around for that part. So I don't think any of them really care about me either. They just use me as ammunition in their little wars."

"HA!" Your response had provoked a laugh from Robin. A laugh that let you know she thought you deserved it. She was more offended by that comment in the bathroom than you had thought.

"You're just feeling sorry for yourself." Steve added, shaking out his legs.

You didn't find it very fair that they were ganging up on you all of a sudden. "If I didn't, nobody else would."

"Oh, you're breaking my heart." But Steve didn't sound sincere at all. You weren't enjoying this side of Steve one bit. And it was all because of Billy. 

"Do you get along with your parents?" Eddie sided with you.

"If I say, yes, I'm a real idiot, right?"

"I think you're an idiot anyway. But if you say you get along with your parents, you'll be a liar, too."

"You know something, I've just about had it with you. If we weren't in school, man, I'd wail all over you. They'd have to pick you up with tweezers."

Eddie didn't seem fazed. Eddie got threats like this all the time, it wasn't anything he hadn't already heard before. 

"I don't really get along with my parents." Nancy piped up, trying to get the boys attention away from each other so there wasn't a brawl in the middle of the library.

"Yeah right, you're every parent's wet dream."

"That's the problem." She paused, you saw her eyes glaze over then looked at you. "I don't think my parents ever loved each other either."

Everyone was silent, looking at her like they were waiting for her to burst into tears. She regretted bring it up.

"They must have married for some reason?" Steve asked. Whether it was because he was being nosey, or he was concerned for her, you couldn't tell.

"My mom was younger. My dad was older, but he had a cushy job, money, came from a good family. So they bought a nice house at the end of the cul-de-sac and started their nuclear family."

"Screw that."

"Yeah, screw that."

"I could see you not liking them for making you wear those kind of clothes, but, shit, what else would you be doing if you weren't busy making yourself a better citizen?" Eddie clearly hadn't read the room.

"Why do you have to insult everybody?" Eddie was really pushing Steve's limits. You noticed it happened especially when it came to Nancy.

"I'm being honest, asshole. I'd expect you to know the difference." He said it like he had had a similar argument with Steve in the past.

Nancy raised her middle finger at him. 

"Whoa, obscene gestures from such a pristine girl."

"I'm not that pristine." Nancy argued, though she regretted it almost immediately.

She cleared her throat and make her way back to her seat. 

"Are you a virgin?" She caught Steve's eye, they shared a look, but Eddie missed it. "I'll bet you a million dollars that you are."

"Would you take that bet, Robin?"

"Not really."

"That's the last time I call you 'Robin', Buckley."

He continued. "Have you ever been felt up? Over the bra, under the blouse, shoes off...hoping to God your parents don't walk in?" 

Nancy was getting upset. "Do you want me to puke?"

"Over the panties, no bra, blouse unbuttoned, Calvin's in a ball on the front seat past eleven on a school night?"

You squeezed your thighs together. His voice was deep and masculine, sending you off into an alluring day dream. You found yourself in the back seat of a car, a strong man towering over you, rough hands caressing your soft skin. He takes off your bra, exposing your breasts to the cold air of the night, nipples hardening. He's groping them, kissing them, loving on them. Your moaning and he's trailing his lips lower. Your hands thread themselves in his brown, wavy hair. He's pulling your panties down with his teeth, looking up at you with those big brown eyes of his. And suddenly you were in the back of his van, pulling off his patched, demin jacket until he's leaning over you completely naked. He put his lips to your ear, whispering --

"Hey, why don't you leave her alone!" Steve breaks you out of your imagination.

"You gonna make me?"

"Yeah."

"You and whose army?"

"Just me and five of my fingers. I hit you. You hitting floor. Anytime you're ready."

Eddie realised that Steve was being serious, but doesn't believe he is quite capable of making good on his threat. 

"Yeah? You want a black eye to go with that split lip? You couldn't fight Billy Hargrove, what makes you think you can beat me?"

Your chest tightened at his name and your eyes darted to the door. They stayed shut. It calmed you a little, but your heart was still beating against your ribcage. You placed a hand there in case it burst out. You wondered how Eddie knew about the fight at the party, you hadn't seen him there. But then again, word travels fast around Hawkins High. Your breathing became heavy. All this arguing was making you dizzy. You could do without a repeat of last Thursday.

"Try me."

"Eddie." You pleaded him not to retaliate, swallowing down your pride for a second of peace.

He looked at you, and suddenly Eddie was not in the mood to fight Steve. The fear in your eyes scared him a little. You were serious about them not fighting. But luckily for you, Eddie knew when to stop. Besides, there were ladies present, and he was a gentleman.

To some extent.

 "Whatever man, I'm not getting into this with you."

"Why not?"

"Why not?" He paused. He wasn't going to tell Steve he did it for you. "'Cause I'd kill you. It's real simple, you'd die and your fucking parents would sue me and It'd be a big mess and I don't care enough about you to bother. So drop it."

"Chicken."

"You know, you should see a doctor. I think those steroids are frying your brain."

Steve just laughed him off, believing that he had scared Eddie into yielding and he was just giving one last dig to preserve his pride. Eddie looked a Nancy, but she was already staring at him. 

"What is it that makes you act like such a fool?"

"I'm not getting enough vitamin B."

Steve fumed. He wanted his fist to connect with that smartass mouth of his. "Let's end this right now. You don't talk to her...you don't look at her and you don't even think about her! You understand me?"

"I'm trying to help her." He said it like it was as plain as a pikestaff.

"Help me?" Nancy was insulted. "Why don't you work on yourself?"

"I did. I finished last Tuesday. Now I'm working on the rest of the world." He pointed at Steve, who looked about ready to swing. "I could help you, big boy."

"Spare me."

"I can help a lot of people, all they have to do is ask nicely."

"I'll kill you." Steve threatened with a clenched fist.

Eddie looked unmoved. He heard threats like that at least five times a day. "Well, I should just let you and everyone else who wants to kill me fight for the privilege."

There was a rumbling from beyond the library door. In a flurry of panic, everyone got themselves into position, acting like they hadn't moved an inch away from their seats. Eddie sat next to you again, accidently kicking your foot under the table. You kicked it back in annoyance. He did it again, only on purpose this time. 'What a child' you thought. You put your coat on the back of your chair and sat up straight, expecting Principal Higgins to come storming in.

Everybody visibly relaxed when Carl, the janitor, came rumbling in with his music playing quietly from his radio, dragging his cart behind him. He had a face you didn't quite know how to take; he looked friendly enough, but could turn at the snap of your fingers. He was skinny and stood at a height of 5"8, with a limp of a man who worked hard for his living. He smiled everyone, but the only one who seems the acknowledge him was Robin. She returned the smile and gave him a small wave, in hopes of being nice but not letting the others see. He went into the librarians office and grabbed the waste basket.

"Hey Sweetheart, your dad's here." 

You gave him an unamused smile and kicked his shin under the desk once more.

Carl came out of the office and dumped the basket on his cart. He left his cart in the main library and walked down the pathway to grab another trash bin at the back of the room. 

"Hey, Carl?"

Carl paused in surprise that any student here, with the exception of Robin, would talk to him. He turned around, but Eddie still remained facing the front, putting his back to him. 

"How does one become a janitor."

Everyone supressed a giggle, even Steve despite his dislike for Eddie. Only Robin remained silent. She didn't find it very funny.

"You want to become a janitor?" Carl raised an eyebrow.

"No I just wanna know how one becomes a janitor because Steve here, is very interested in perusing a career in the custodial arts."

Steve stopped laughing at that. Carl scratched his head. He knew that they were making fun of him. But Carl wasn't one someone should mess with. He turned off his radio, pulled off his rubber gloves and shoved them in his back pocket.

"You guys think I'm just a lowly janitor. Some fucking untouchable peasant. Maybe so, but following a broom around after shitheads like you for five years, I've learned a few things. I read your notes, I go through your letters. I listen to your conversations. I am the eyes and ears of this institution. I know where you are now and I know where you'll be in the future."

Everyone exchanged worried looks as Carl moved to tower in front of Eddie. "You got ten years, max. Drugs. Rundown trailer in West Texas. Whore wife takes the baby, you shoot a fatal dose. Probable? Maybe not. Possible? Think so."

He turned to you. "You get married to a guy with lots of material success. Corporate position. Big bucks. Black Jag. You have three kids, nobody gives a shit. You get divorced and have a big fuckin' heart attack at thirty-eight, thirty-nine."

Steve was next. "District sales manager for a golf club manufacturer. Shitty little compact company car, twenty-two five a year and a wife as big as a boxcar."

Finally, Nancy. "Six face-lifts and two boob jobs by forty and a husband with more girlfriends than anniversaries."

He stepped back and put on his gloves. The stunned reaction on everybody's faces made him smile. "But I'm just a janitor." He shrugged.

And with that, he grabbed his cart, wheeled it around and headed out. He paused at the door and looked at the clock. 

"By the way, that thing's twenty minutes slow." He winked as he left and everybody groaned. 

~~~~~

12:30pm

~~~~~

Everybody was bored out of their skulls after the shock of Carl's speech had worn off. You took the time to think about what he had said. He had tried to put a downer on you, but the life he had predicted for you sounded like paradise, compared to now. Even if you did only have twenty years left to live. As crazy as it sounded, it gave you a bit of hope. There was a chance that you could work up the courage to leave Billy and meet someone nice, or at least wealthy. You had never given any thought about having kids, especially not with Billy, but now, maybe you could see yourself with a kid. You'd want a boy, and he'd look just like his father; Curly brown hair, big russet eyes, and a toothy smile. What would you name him? Would you name him after his father? Maybe Michael, or Christopher, James. Edward? You liked that name. 

Your eyes flashed to the door as it opened. Principal Higgins strolled in with a frown of his face, even though no one had done anything to upset him yet.

Yet.

"Thirty minutes for lunch." He declared.

"Excuse me Sir, I think the cafeteria would be a more suitable place to eat lunch."

"I don't care what you think, Harrington." 

Steve sunk back into his seat.

"Uh, Dick?" Eddie cleared his throat. "Sorry, Richard. Will milk be made available to us? Someone like Steve could choke to death on a dry sandwich."

"I have a low tolerance for dehydration, Sir." Robin added.

"I've seen her dehydrated, Sir." Steve sat up again. "It's pretty gross."

You wondered if that was true, or if he was just playing along. The things he said about her, you wondered if they knew each other. Probably not, you brushed off the thought. They were on complete opposite ends of the spectrum, there was no way they knew each other.

Principal Higgins scowled.

Eddie stood and raised his hands like he was trying to calm a wild animal. "Relax, I'll get it."

"Ah,ah,ah. Grab some wood there, Munson. You think I was born yesterday? You don't fool me for one minute. I'm not having you roaming these halls."

Eddie plopped back into his seat with a defeated sigh. It was worth a shot.

"You." He pointed at Steve. 

He eyed up the other students, skipping over Eddie as he decided who else was most suitable to leave. You sank into your seat. You did not fancy having some alone time with Steve. Steve stared directly at the Principal before darting his eyes to the right where Nancy was sat, signalling for him to pick her. She sat up to make herself more evident. 

Higgins ignored them and pointed a finger at you. "And you. There's a soft drinks machine in the faculty lunch room."

You broke into a cold sweat. This was going to be the most awkward ten minutes of your life. Either Steve was just going to pretend you didn't exist, or he was going to absolutely grill you. You hoped for the former. 

As you reluctantly got out of your seat, Steve held out a hand to the others for money. Nancy took out a change purse from her bag and handed him fifty cents. Robin does the same with the loose change in her jeans pocket. Eddie fished through his coat pockets. He found some assorted change, crumpled gum wrappers, some loose tobacco and a screw. He handed it all to Steve. 

Steve made his way out, not even looking to see if you're following him. You do, of course, but you lagged behind him, not feeling particularly comfortable being alone with him. You counted your steps as you walked, fiddling with the delicate chain around your neck. It was a simple design: just your name written with gold, cursive lettering. But it was the only jewellery you never took off. Your parents had bought it for you when you had started cheerleading at eight years old. It was a reminder of when life was much more simple, when you believed that your parents actually loved each other, that they loved you. 

A minute passed and you already couldn't stand the silence. You dreaded it, but you knew this would probably be the only opportunity you would get to hash out your grievances.

"Why do you hate me?" A forward start, but at least it's a start.

"You know why."

"Look, what Billy did wasn't my fault --"

"Of course it is. If you hadn't been there in the first place he wouldn't've showed up."

"Hey, I didn't even tell him I was going to that stupid party. He was there anyway. If you hadn't come over and butted into our argument, maybe you wouldn't have that split lip."

"My parties aren't stupid."

"Is that seriously all you took from that?"

"No..." He paused. After hearing your side of the story, he was beginning to feel like a fool. "What were you guys even arguing about?"

You sighed. "Billy and I had plans to go to this drive in movie theatre. I don't think he wanted to watch a movie though, I think he was just hoping to get lucky." The two of you had stopped walking. Steve looked at you intently, encouraging you to carry on. You shifted on your feet. "If I'm being completely honest I didn't really want to go, but then Carol asked me to go to your party and I took it as an excuse not to go with Billy. I knew he would be angry if I cancelled our plans last minute, so I told him I was sick. Biggest fucking mistake of my life."

"So you went to the party and Billy caught you out in your lie."

"Yeah. Turns out one of his friends had asked him to go but he'd declined 'cause we were going on a date. He accepted the offer once I'd cancelled our plans."

Steve started walking again. You followed next to him this time. "I know Billy is a bit of a shitbag, but why didn't you want to go on your date? I mean, it seemed like a good time."

There was no such thing as a 'good time' with Billy. He had his moments, sure, but he was as cranky as a wet hen. Time with him was like trying to swim with rocks on your back. He sucked all the fun out of everything until you started drowning. You didn't tell Steve that though. 

"I just wasn't in the mood to be around him, is all." You brushed him off. "But he's bringing it up all the time, and were arguing all of the time. Even in school."

"Is that why you're here today?"

His question made you pause. He stopped a couple of steps ahead of you and turned around when he saw you weren't next to him anymore. You played it off like you were itching your leg and jogged up to him. The two of you made it to the teacher's lounge. 

The first thing you noticed was that it was very brown. The floor and ceiling had the same white speckled tile that ran throughout the entire school, but everything else was just ... brown. Brown wallpaper, brown leather sofas, brown table, brown countertop. Even the fridge was brown. The vending machine was in the far corner.

"Why are you here?" You asked Steve, hoping he hadn't realised that you hadn't answered his question. 

"Me? I'm here because my father and my coach don't want me to blow my ride." He started feeding the change into the machine. "They think my intensity's for shit. You see, I have a different set of standards. I get treated different because Coach thinks I'm a star. So does my old man. But you know what? I don't care. I'm not a star because I want to be a star, I'm a star because I got good legs and reflexes. I'm like a racehorse. That's about how involved I am in what's happening to me."

You nodded, but you had a suspicion that that wasn't the whole truth. "Yeah, so why are you really here?"

Steve was annoyed that he hadn't managed to persuade you. "Forget it."

You studied the set of lockers on the other side of the room. You walked over to them out of curiosity, trying your luck with one of the doors. To your surprise it opened. 

Steve caught you out of the corner of his eye. "You really shouldn't be doing that."

Inside lay a set of keys attached to a green Hawkins High lanyard, a pack of cigarettes, a 'thank you teacher' mug, and a Prince's Purple Rain album on vinyl. Steve came up behind you, looking inside and letting the soda cans thunk loudly at the bottom of the vending machine.  

"This is a teacher's stuff?" He asked surprised.

"Yeah. Does this mean that they're actually human?" You laughed together for the first time.

Daringly, you pocketed the pack of cigarettes in your cardigan pocket and took the record. 

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. No, put them back." 

"C'mon Steve, when are you ever going into the teacher's lounge again? Besides, it'll give us something to do while were stuck in that god damned library."

You shut the locker door and brushed past him. You gathered up the soda cans, giving Steve his share to carry and made your way back to the library.

"It was pretty strange looking at teacher's personal shit, huh?" You said, examining the purple record sleeve.

Steve shrugged, he'd seen stranger things. "I went over to Coach's house for dinner once during the summer. It was really weird to see how he lives."

He paused, anticipating a question, but you just looked at him to carry on.

"His wife was fat. And one of his kids was in a wheelchair. It was kinda sad. He was a nice kid."

"If he invites you over to his house, why does he shit on you?" 

"He and my old man are working to get me a scholarship. It's not an economic issue. Scholarships make the newspaper. They think I have a shot at a full ride. They think I deserve a Big Ten school."

You simply nodded and walked through the library doors. The others were gathered in the corner by the comfy chairs. Eddie was holding a book opened to a page displaying a man with elephantitus to the nuts like he was reading children a bedtime story.

"How do you suppose he rides a bike?"

The clattering of soda cans on the table drew their attention away. They all walked over to grab a can. Before the others could take one, Eddie reached out and shook one furiously.

You look at him like he was crazy. Perhaps he was. "That's going to spray all over you."

"Not necessarily."

He put the drink back with the others and moved the cans around so than no one would know which was was shook up. 

"You're such a dingus." Robin bravely took a can first.

Everyone else followed before taking their seats and pulling out their lunches. You simply took out an apple, loosing your appetite after seeing a man with elephantitus to the nuts. You noticed Eddie didn't have any lunch as he surveyed everyone else's. 

"Where's your lunch?"

"You're wearing it." He winked. 

You curled your lip in disgust, but felt about as red as your apple. 

"You're nauseating." Nancy complained, opening her lunch.

"Look who's talking. You don't care what you put in your mouth." He eyed Nancy's lunch like she had just shown him a plate full of snails. "What is that?"

"Sushi."

"Sushi?"

"Rice, raw fish, and seaweed."

"You wont accept a guys tongue in your mouth, but you'll eat that?"

She scoffed impatiently. "Can I eat?"

"I don't know, give it a try."

The room went silent as everybody watched Steve pull out his lunch from a large brown grocery bag; three sandwiches, a family-sized bag of chips, an apple, a banana, a bag of cookies and a carton of milk.

"Are you really going to eat all that?" Robin asked in shock.

"No, I'm only going to eat half."

"What are you going to do with the other half?"

"Shoving it up Eddie's ass."

How charming. He reached for his can and everybody shrunk away, thinking it might explode. He cracked the tab. 

Nothing happened.

Robin took out a sandwich covered in saran wrap. She unwrapped it and pulled the bread apart, starting to work on it like a mad scientist. She tossed the meat away, blindly whipping it to the side. It slapped on the wall and stuck there. She reached into her sweater pocket and pulled out a bag of chocolate M&M's. She tore the bag open and dumped all of it on the buttered bread. Out of her coat pocket she pulled out a little baggie filled with Captain crunch cereal and sprinkled it over the M&M's. She closed the mess of a sandwich and took a huge bite. She noticed that everyone was watching her. 

"You are bizarre." Eddie thought Steve's lunch was bad.

She reached for her Pepsi to wash it all down. She put it to her mouth and popped it. The soda sprayed cleanly into her mouth. 

After the fizz was gone, she smirked at Eddie. "Nice try, dingus."

"What do you have?" He turned to you, watching take a bite into your apple.

You handed your bag over to him, rather than speaking with a full mouth. He started pulling things out. He pulled out a sandwich, a thermos of soup, which he opened and give a big whiff, and a bottle of water.

"Well Sweetheart, this is a very nutritious lunch. All the food groups are represented. Did your mom marry Mr. Rodgers?"

Eddie stood so he was front and centre of the room, all eyes on him. 

"This is my impression of life at our darling Sweetheart's house." He gestured to you and your face flushed.

"Hello, dear. I'm home from the coalmine." Eddie impersonated your father.

Eddie quickly played your mother. "Oh, hello, sweetie pie. Dinner's almost ready. I'm serving stuffing instead of potatoes." 

"My favourite!" 

His voice turned high and shrill, playing you. "Hi, Dad! Yippee, you're home! I danced in a skimpy skirt in front of hundreds of people today. I went to church and I wrote Grandma a letter. Now can I have a pen pal?"

"Dear, isn't our daughter swell?" 

Quiet and motherly. "Yes Dear, isn't life swell?" 

Eddie mimed your mother kissing your father, then father kissing mother, and then your father punching your mother in the face. Suddenly it was not so funny anymore. 

Your eyes were wet. You hated how much that hurt. It wasn't his words that hurt you, it was how much you wished it were true. 

You bravely stood up. "No, it's more like --"

"Dad? Is it okay if I shoot heroin?"

You lowered your voice, playing your father. You held an imaginary newspaper in your hands, not taking your eyes off it and pretending that you weren't paying attention. "If it'll make you happy, pumpkin." 

You extended your fingers and blew on them, doing your mother and her fresh nail polish. "What are you talking about, Frank?! How's she going to wear her Sunday dress with holes in her arms? We are going to church aren't we?

"It's okay. Never mind. I won't be a junkie." You said sadly.

"Now, just wait a minute. If you want to be a junkie--" 

"I'm not going to be the only woman at the congregation with a junkie daughter. Now what about church?" Your mother said.

"Go by yourself!" Said your father.

"With pleasure! I'm taking Y/N." 

"Over my dead body!"

"I love her more than you do!"

"Go to hell!"

Everyone looks at you with a hint of sympathy. Even Eddie.

"Do you wish they'd get a divorce?" He asked.

"No."

"Why not?" 

"I'd have to live with one or the other. And I don't know which one is worse." You laughed, but there was no humour behind it.

"Whose next?" Eddie ask, like he didn't already know he was going to single out Steve. Eddie pointed at him. "You're next."

"Yeah, no thanks."

"You an orphan?"

"I don't need to dump on my parents. Especially when they're not here to defend themselves." Eddie gave him a look like he was being chicken.

"What about your family?" Steve asked Eddie. He wanted him to have a taste of his own medicine.

"Mine? Real simple, pal."

He climbed onto the table, really setting the stage and getting himself into character. His eyelids lowered and his body moved clumsily, like he was drunk. "Stupid, worthless, no good, goddamn freeloading, son of a bitch, big mouth, know-it-all, asshole, jerk!"

He stands up straight, crossing his arms and raising the pitch of his voice. "You forgot ugly, lazy and disrespectful." His mother said.

"Shut up bitch!" He smacked the air, hitting his invisible mother. He yelled it so loud you were worried Higgins was about to storm through the door.

As his father, he threw a punch. Eddie dramatically dropped from the table and fell to the ground. He stood up, brushed himself off and took a bow. The show was over. 

"Then they make me work to pay off the dentist for the teeth he busts."

"Is that for real?" Nancy looks like she's going to start crying for him. 

"You wanna come over some time?"

She didn't want to believe that something like that could happen to anyone. Even someone as vexing as Eddie. Nancy decided then to never complain about her parents again.

"That's part of your image. I don't believe a word." Steve brushed him off. His re-enactment hadn't moved him at all. 

You wondered if he was right. You had been so truthful about yours, you would feel ashamed if he had lied about his.

Eddie actually looked hurt. "You don't believe it, huh?" 

He whipped off his red shirt and pulled up the sleeve of his black t-shirt. He shoved his arm in Steve's face, displaying a grotesque purple scar. Steve recoiled away from it, but Eddie forced him to look at it. You subtly tugged at the sleeve of your cardigan. You could feel the bruises of Billy's fingers purpling on your wrist.

"You believe that? It's about the size of a cigar." Eddie spoke through gritted teeth. "That's what you get in my house when you spill paint in the garage."

Eddie was breathless with anger. His muscles were tensed up so tightly he thought he was going to give himself a full-body cramp. He needed something to calm himself down. Luckily, he knew just the thing.

~~~~~

<<<Previous // Next>>>

~~~~~

Taglist: @cruwushes @the-ch0sen-on3 @namelesshumanperson @ali-r3n @cadence73 @munsonssweets @ahoyyharrington @mewchiili @yourdailymemedelivery @httpsunflowers @b-irock @coolglittercornbae @sav12321 @cumslutforaemond @siriuslysmoking @learninglinesintherainn @peaches-roses-sins @lodeddiperrodrick @catherinnn @lilocapoca @minniedreamers @melaninjhs

[ladytauria]

[jaytim] baby bird ?

this wip is really old!! i started writing this one i think before or just after i started working on script: flipped, my first (& mostly gen) reverse robins au.

it’s not abandoned necessarily but i haven’t worked on it in agesssss

anyway, its the classic plot of ‘tim finds out ra’s has used his dna to make a baby and, well. he has a baby now uhoh’

Six hours later, at eleven in the morning, Jason lets himself into the Monarch. In one hand, he holds a to-go cup of coffee from Tim’s favorite cafe. In the other, he has a bag containing a breakfast sandwich. He’s pretty sure the coffee will purchase him at least five minutes of Tim’s time before he gets thrown out if Tim is feeling secretive. The sandwich is just because he doubts Tim’s eaten since he got back.

He finds Tim on the couch.

Tim starts at the sight of him, banging his leg on the coffee table, one hand shooting out to catch his laptop before it goes tumbling to the floor. “Jason!” Tim’s voice is just shy of a yelp. “What are you doing here?” He sets the laptop onto the coffee table, and shoots to his feet.

Definitely not suspicious.

Jason holds out the coffee cup. “Hadn’t seen you in a bit. Thought I’d drop in.” Jason’s voice is chipper. Cheerful. “I also brought food.”

Tim stares longingly at the coffee and—after a moment—snatches both it and the bag from Jason’s hands.

Jason plops into a chair adjacent from the couch. “So, are you workin’ a case?”

“...something like that,” Tim mutters, downing the coffee like it was water and he was a man dying of thirst. He doesn’t come up for air until he’s guzzled at least half the drink by Jason’s estimation. Then, he opens the bag and tears into the sandwich. He’s midway through his third bite when he says, “So, what’d you need, anyway?”

Or. Well. That’s what Jason thinks he says. It’s a bit garbled, given the food stuffed in his mouth.

Jason is kind enough to ignore it. “Like I said,” Jason repeats. “I just wanted to check in. Hadn’t seen you on the streets in a bit and got a little worried, s’all.”

For whatever reason, Tim flushes. “Oh. Um. Well. I’m fine, as you can see.” He gestures.

Jason nods at him. “Uh-huh. Sure. But, now that I’m here, I’m curious. What exactly have you been doing?”

Tim takes another bite of his sandwich in lieu of answering. Jason can see the wheels of his brain turning, putting together an excuse. He narrows his eyes.

Tim lies to Batman, and gets away with it, on the reg. Whatever he says, it’s going to be plausible. If it was any other day, he might even have evidence to back it up... but this time, he hasn’t thought that far ahead—which means he’s going to lie to Jason, and Jason is going to know it’s a lie.

The question is: how hard does he press?

Tim swallows. He opens his mouth to answer, but, before he can get the words out he’s cut off by... something that sounds suspiciously like an infant’s wail.

Tim stiffens.

Jason stares.

Blinks.

“Tim,” he says slowly. “Is that a fucking baby?”

Tim winces. “...I can explain.” The cry continues, growing steadily louder. “In a second.” He drops the half-eaten sandwich onto the empty bag and then darts off towards the sound. He returns with a baby, what the fuck, wrapped in a red blanket.

The child is tiny, fitting neatly in the crook of Tim’s arms as he goes into the kitchen. Tim gets a pre-prepared bottle from the fridge and nukes it. He tests the liquid on his wrist in a motion that was sure, but unpracticed, before guiding the nipple into the infant’s mouth. The cries quiet immediately as the baby latches on, drinking almost as greedily as Tim had earlier.

Tim returns to the couch, sitting opposite Jason again. He leans back against the cushions with a heaving sigh.

Jason can’t help the way he stares at the baby. It’s eyes are half closed; tiny little hands pressed against the bottle, kneading against the hard plastic. Tim’s free hand supports its head; his thumb stroking through the feathery hair.

[curious about my wips? send me an ask about one of the ones on this list]

[captainkirkk]

✩ WEEKLY FIC ROUND-UP ✩

All the fics I’ve read and really enjoyed in the past week-ish. Reminder: This list features any and all ratings and themes. Please look at tags and warnings on ao3 before reading.

DC

midnight sun by merils

Who would win: four men with guns who just happened to get Red Robin to walk into a trap, or one royally-pissed Kryptonian juggernaut?

Yeah, it's not even a contest.

reasons are better than rules by destiny919

"No one will actually explain Father's rules to me," Damian blurts out. "They tell me we don't kill, and killing is wrong, and Father would never do it, but no one ever actually says why! As if repeating the rule is the same as explaining it! As if I am supposed to just know, when I do not!"

Drake is quiet, eyes on something in the distance that Damian cannot see. "Damian, may I tell you a secret?"

Marvel

Thirty Hours by polaroid15

The sun sets. Peter breaks three toes and hits his head hard against concrete. There’s a steadily bleeding wound in his side that he’s staunched with his webbing and tries not to acknowledge it when it burns. He can still walk in a straight line, which is good. He’s starving and tired and cold. It’s been fifteen hours.

Or, Peter doesn't take any breaks during a lengthy fight with the Avengers. The mind-melting fever that follows really should have been expected.

Clone Wars

An Hourglass In Hand by ecarian

“I thought daemons didn’t eat,” Rex noted once, during a celebration feast, as he and Cody watched Boga devour her meal with some fascination. Varactyl she may be, but she was a tiny one. There wasn't much interior space for the truly momentous amount of meat she was ripping into.

Boga daintily rubbed her beak against a folded serviette that looked kind of like a bird, and said, prim, “I can do anything a human can do.”

“Oh?” Obi-Wan said mildly, from where he’d been tapping at a datapad. “Shall I save you a portion of these reports then?”

Set My Mind at Ease by Eightbitpale

Marshal Commander Cody - clone commanding officer of the 7th Sky Corps, second in command of the 212th attack battalion and, currently, the proud caretaker of one still-warm lightsaber - was having a very long day.

Actually, fuck that. It had been more than a long day. Long days were Cody’s bread and butter, practically his comfort zone. Marshall Commander Cody ate stim shots for breakfast and every shiny this side of Coruscant knew it. Long days were his bitch.

No, this had been more than a long day. Today had been a bad day.

———

The one where Cody and his general try their best to tell each other that they care. At least they’re trying.

Your Smile In Stone by ecarian

Wooley: can we arrest people for yelling this early?

There were two figures standing at the foot of General Kenobi's statue with their backs to Wooley, an adult with a hood, and a child with light hair. The child was pointing at a puddle of Temple tookas who were curled up in General Kenobi’s lap, lounging in the stone folds of his robes, the bend of his knee.

Wooley: belay that. Child nuisance.

The Goblin Emperor

Sweet Hope by baladric

Maia Drazhar arranges a festival, meets his gay aunt, falls in love with his secretary, and misses his mom through it all.

"In the way of true stories, there was no discernible beginning. Perhaps it had begun that first day, in the shabby receiving room at Edonomee; in the cockpit of the Radiance of Cairado; at the mooring mast of the Untheileneise Court, with that first smile.

The pith of the matter was that Maia Drazhar was wildly, tremulously in love, and love had made fools of much wiser men than he."

In All Its Forms by Anonymous

Before his father ruined everything, Nurevis Chavar only thought to introduce the new emperor to all the most beautiful things life could offer.

When he found himself free from relegation again after his father's death, would the emperor whose friendship he had sought so long ago wish his presence at court? And, if he could return to court, would his emperor wish his friendship again?

[aetherdoesthings]

Can we get a bi sanji x bi reader gushing over all the cute girls they see together (I'm in the fem lean of my bi cycle rn lol)?

elo! lmao same.

forethoughts: sorry for my inactivity; dealing w a lot of personal problems atm. i'm okay, dw :>

notes: bi!reader, bi!sanji, both being absolutely fucking simps.

When you first joined the Straw Hats, you immediately hit it off with Sanji. Not because you liked making food and were an excellent cook, but because of something more… obscure.

Every morning when everyone gathered in the galley to eat breakfast, Sanji would be gushing over Nami and Robin, giving them extra food and all the extra love and care. To everyone’s dismay, you did too, offering some of your food to them and giving them compliments about their look. 

Nami and Robin always received your compliment differently than Sanji would. While Sanji would be loud and outburst, always going the extra mile for the two of them, you were more quiet. It was obvious at some times you were head over heels for both Nami and Robin, always choosing to stick close to one of them during missions or just occasionally looking at one of the two for a longer period of time. 

Nami and Robin welcomed your silence, admiring much more than they did Sanji’s, and always admired how you would instantly blush and run away whenever they complimented you back.

At night, you and Sanji would be screaming, crying, throwing up about all your encounters with Robin or Nami and how they were Goddesses in your eyes. You’d spend hours with him coming up with ways to make them happy.

“WHAT FRAGRANCES DO GIRLS LIKE?!” Sanji shouted.

“HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO KNOW?!” You shouted back.

“YOU’RE A GIRL, Y/N!”

“DON’T MEAN I KNOW WHAT FRAGRANCES THEY LIKE!”

Eventful meetings you had Sanji had gushing over Nami and Robin.

When you went out to shop for more food, if you ever stumbled across some cute girls, you’d put your hand over your face to hide how red your cheeks were and look away respectfully, blocking any perverted or intrusive thoughts. Sanji would go over to talk to them, bombarding them with questions and giving them compliment after compliment.

[mikoyamisheadcanonblog]

Koby Relationship Questions (1)

👓Koby👓

👓Who wakes up first in the Morning: 👓Koby does, after training under Garp he got in got in the habit of waking up early to train and if he isn’t training. He will start his morning making breaks for his S/O and such but also helping them clean. Years on Alvida’s Pirate crew he became amazing at cleaning and kind of loved a spotless house.  At first it was a surprise while he was bashful at first when his S/O is surprised and sharing breakfast he begins to like the smile of his S/O and does it every day.

👓Who is the first to fall asleep at night:👓 After a long day, Koby, he likes to sleep early and get the full eight hours of sleep required of him. He does have a hard time sleeping if his S/O isn’t around and will stay awake till they come home. Or if he is stressed about something he will spend his time training.

👓What they playfully tease each other over: 👓His S/O can brag about him, and it will turn his cheeks red and such and have him looking away feeling such embarrassment as he denies everything. He is never sure how to react when his S/O gives him such praises. Public display of affection would leave him embarrassed and such. He would try to tease his S/O but in the end, it would come out as praised and such and question himself if his S/O is feeling bad.

👓What they do when the other’s having a bad day:👓 He will do everything in his power to make sure his S/O bad day is turning into a good day. But most of all he already knows a listening ear is the best. If his S/O doesn’t want to talk he will take them where they want till they are ready and such but if they can’t think of anything he probably makes a good meal for them and waits. He just needs that listening ear, talking to his S/O about his emotions.

👓How they say ‘I’m sorry after arguments:👓 He would apologize right away; however, his S/O is feeling he would feel so bad every time his S/O feels bad. He can’t sit with the guilt of ever hurting his S/O and such. It would take a minute, then minutes at most will he go to his S/O and apologize probably by a bouquet flowers or some of their favorite sweets. Before they sit and have a conversation over what happened and how to improve. He will accept his S/O apologize but he does want to talk about what happened.

👓Which one’s more ticklish: 👓He does have a ticklish side and such, probably his S/O but he is ticklish.

👓Their favorite rainy day activities:👓 He would enjoy anything his S/O doing, he would train in the rain and not wanting to give up on training even on rainy days. There his S/O would greet him with a hot shower and warm meal that they would share and talk about the weather or training or even the conflict in the world and later snuggle and watch the rain. His cheeks would be red with how close he is to his S/O and thinking about how much he likes being with his S/O.

👓How they surprise each other: 👓Traveling, he likes to travel with his S/O and seeing new places. He will talk about Luffy and such and show them articles about Luffy and talk about how Luffy inspired him. But he loves walking with his S/O and showing them places and surprise travel trips on the day off is all good for him.

👓Their most sickening show of public affection:👓 He blushes at the simple idea of hand-holding. His cheeks are red as his S/O goes and grabs his hand. He can’t pull away but will feel such blissful embarrassment as he looks at his S/O having difficulty believing he is in a relationship with him.

Other Relationship Question 1 Zoro, Ace, Nami, Law, Sanji, Kid, Sabo, Killer, Shanks, Doflamingo, Crocodile, Luffy, Robin, Usopp, Koby, King, Smoker, Corazone,