#Round robin anon

[disorganizedkitten]

also wait. i just realized. pretending to be you? is identity theft a common thing in fests?

Yes, actually! Since the fests I run have fics posted anonymously until the fest ends, an optional type of participating is a guessing game, where you try to figure out who wrote what from stylistic tells. Writers who participate in the guessing game also get a kick out of trying to frame each other for writing their fics.

It's a lovely exercise, makes participants think about their writing and their friends' writing styles, in a lot of cases it also will have a guesser going back through a writer's previously posted fics to get a feel for their writing style, which has the extra effect of getting more readers for those, and all around it's just a very fun time.

Optional, again, but incredibly fun.

[kedreeva]

Prompt: Would you mind trying to write Robin and Nancy fencing or the whole party fencing?

It is a dreary day outside, and I would like to write instead of clean, so I do not mind at all :)

------

"You're doing it wrong," Nancy points out, every inch the haughty schoolgirl she used to be.

Robin fiddles with the screen in front of her face for the seven thousandth time in the last three minutes. "How can you even tell," she complains. This suit is itchy and she can't see right.

"Because I listened to the same instructor as you did," Nancy says, adjusting her stance and bringing her sword up again. Foil, Robin thinks. She's never going to learn all these words.

"Remind me why we're doing this, again?" She moves to mirror Nancy.

"Because we need to learn how to fight more effectively up close," Nancy says. "We won't always have guns."

Nancy advances, and Robin retreats.

Robin focuses mostly on not wildly slapping her foil against Nancy's like the first few times the weapon had come at her. They aren't fighting for their lives. There are rules here.

Nancy advances, and Robin retreats.

The weight of the blade in her hand is unfamiliar, the dance a foreign set of moves. She can't see where she's going, only where she's been. There isn't time to get her footing well enough to turn it around.

Nancy advances, and Robin retreats.

That part, at least, is familiar.

Their blades touch, the sensation jarring up Robin's palm into her wrist, and separate just as quickly as they met.

Nancy advances, and Robin meets her where she strikes.

She's not good at it, and she feels the strike to her body the second she tries anything more fancy than running away, but she tried. Nancy drops her guard and laughs breathlessly, and that takes some of the sting out of the loss.

"Let me guess, I did it wrong again?" Robin asks.

"Oh yeah," Nancy says, but a smile still lingers in her tone. "Here, let me show you."

Nancy advances, and Robin lets her.

[thedevilundercover]

In response to your Alfred writing quandary I think it may help if you remember that at the end of the day Alfred is there as Bruce’s support. For the most part his actions and reactions will lead back to what is best for Bruce. He may care for the kids but at the end of the day Bruce and his wellbeing will be placed over any of the other bat fams unless there is an immediate need. That isn’t to say that he doesn’t love/care for them. They just are not his top priority.

He’s the worst kind of helicopter parent that will do anything for HIS child. He will still let him make his own choices, judging him all the while, but will go behind and give him the best chance at success to come back.

Hope this helps!

Anon, I freaking love you, I was literally going to cry

[snowangeldotmp3]

in what ways do robin and nancy help each other???? like what do they give to each other, like new perspectives etc etc. im interested in hearing what u have to say abt it :)

ooo okay okay i have been thinking about this for a whole day and i have Thoughts. they may not be super coherent but pls bear with me.

ok so i think the scene in pennhurst is probably the best example of their relationship. robin's outburst + nancy's surprise at it. even just in a platonic way, not necessarily romantic, robin picks nancy's side. she doesn't crumble. she knows from the get go that nancy is right. and even if she doesn't fully believe it, robin knows what it's like to not be listened to just because they’re women. jonathan did not. (i am not going to get into the jancy argument of s3 becausee they were both right, just in different ways. i'm Not getting into that rn)

i think for nancy, not only does she have a friend again, but it's a friend she can have a genuine connection with? they both have shared trauma, so nancy doesn't have to hide anything from robin. and a friend that believes her. which i think is even more important. nancy is so, so used to not being believed, and here comes robin, who, even though she wasn't 100% sure about nancy's shot in the dark, still believed her enough to trust her hunch in the first place. to have even an ounce of trust in her theories, to not be mockingly called "Nancy Drew," to have someone believe her. i think having that person to say "no, actually, you were right, and you've been right. no, this asshole is not going to undermine you, screw. that." is so incredibly important to nancy. that "we ask forgiveness, not permission," attitude. (robin says that in the rebel robin podcast. it's canon to me.)

i think ultimately, robin is a step in the right direction for nancy healing over the loss of barb. she's letting herself become friends with someone again, she doesn't have to close herself off from friendships anymore. and no, robin can't shoot a gun, but we know she can take care of herself. she's not completely defenseless. but robin is that key, that first step in the right direction, to heal from barb.

and even in case of (hopeful) s5 predictions and whatnot, i think robin is a completely new perspective for nancy in general, and will continue to be. robin is someone who exists outside the boxes that most people fit into, the ones that nancy is actively trying to avoid. i do hope we get a robin coming out to nancy scene in s5, just as a bridge of trust between the two, ya know? (this is just wishful thinking for me, but i also personally would love to see robin come out to nancy and then force nancy to reflect on her own self, too, ya know?)

ultimately i think it's about robin and nancy being/bringing a balance to one another. they balance each other out in a way that neither of them have probably had for a while. AND i think that's what's made them so entertaining as a dynamic, they aren't one thing or the other, they're both way too complicated for that. instead, they bring a balance to each other that either one has likely not had for a long time.

[robin-5-technically]

Nop! The one you brought was me! I gained the ability to see shrimp colors :) net gain tbh

-✨

Ah. I see. The other was…the vomiting one? That drank normal horrid Gotham water?

I believe this is the Gotham equivalent of heroes getting cats from trees.

[jymwahuwu]

idk i like to think sunday is a firm believer of no sex before (cough forced) marriage. but when the vows are exchanged, the first kiss is celebrated, and the doors are closed… he’s more than ready to take you to poundtown.

he takes you in all the right angles and even in the most humiliating positions, and makes sure every hole of yours is satisfied and fulfilled.

he has an elegant smile that charms even nuns, but behind that seeming innocence and grace is a lustful sinner with a relentless libido he’s been patiently keeping away until now. he adores and coos at your dumb-looking face as you were being fucked dumb by him. what, “no more”? ah, he thinks you meant “please more” when your eyes involuntarily rolled back with your tongue lolled out. you look so happy and cute, a stark contrast to your ever so vicious, and wild nature when interacting with him.

he likes you this, so fulfilled without that savagery of yours to ruin it. he feels like he successfully domesticated a wild animal, and the only finishing touch is having your belly round with child… or children ;)

and if you ever complain or say those disgusting, sinful words against him, it’s okay. he’ll wash that filthy mouth of yours, over and over again until it’s only praise about him that’s dripping from your tongue.

tldr; sunday’s always been a freak but has hidden it all his life until he married you.

>_<🪭anon thank you for such a great story!! I love how Sunday changed after marriage. He hides his true nature and controls himself…

cw: yandere, dub-con, overstimulation, penetration, nipple stimulation, gag, spanking, reader has female reproductive system

Sunday believes in chastity before marriage and protecting chastity before eternal commitment. He does not indulge you in your desires. The body is a sacred temple and cannot be defiled.

And this not only means no sex before the wedding, it means you can't masturbate, read erotic novels, comics, watch pornographic movies, none of these are allowed. Before the engagement, Sunday showed appropriate care and closeness. After the engagement, you had just platonic dates, walking together, dining in restaurants, watching movies and playing games. Sunday likes to read some books with you and share opinions. He doesn't mind if you read books other than philosophy, even popular ones, but… there's only one category he doesn't like… He checks your browser and reading apps.

Switching accounts to browse pornographic novels/browsing pornographic websites will not work. You had done this sneakily, and after you were discovered, your hands were on the table, your underwear was on your calves, and the whip in your fiancé's hand was in close contact with your butt. Clearly, you violated his trust and indulged in lewdness.

Depending on your personality, you might scream and curse at him. Or you whimpered and repented. You emphasize that you will really correct yourself and beg for forgiveness. Both options without exception ended in a spanking. (He also tells you to bend over his lap and get spanked…it's important to bend over in humiliation first. Your butt is so sore it feels like it's burning.) After the punishment is over, Sunday rubs ointment and lotion into your butt. He puts you on his knees, wipes your tears and kisses your forehead.

It's for your own good, he insists. He derived no pleasure from it. You wisely chose not to point out his rising smile.

Wedding!! Sunday was months in preparation for the wedding. He and you exchanged vows and kissed each other. Robin even shed a few tears. She was deeply touched. She was glad that her brother had his happiness. When you get married, you think it's going to be a conservative life, like once a week, missionary position, that sort of thing.

But, no… it was completely unexpected, like you said, Sunday penetrated you at every right angle and humiliating position. He had never done it before but was a quick learner. He explores your sensitive areas and sweet spots, focusing on attacking and teasing those spots. The gloved fingers circled your areola, occasionally pinching and scraping gently. He pinched your raised nipples as if you were about to produce milk. His balls ravaged and slammed against your vulva, his elegant glans hitting your sensitive spots accurately, and his thick cylinders stretching your tight, layered flesh. Fill you with seeds not just once but several times a day. Long periods of abstinence can make you very sensitive to touch. Just caressing your breasts can bring new excitement and tremors to your body, not to mention creampie. You… squirted. When you get your first squirt, Sunday watches you curiously and the amazing amount of squirt. You look completely engaged and surrendered, muttering shakily, rolling your eyes, and spreading your legs.

"No - no more…"

Uh-huh, yes, and if you keep that mean attitude when you're in a relationship with him. The satisfaction this gives Sunday is indescribable. Watching the look in your eyes go from aggressive to melting into orgasm, screaming and begging for no more rounds. You didn't know that a man who had been abstinent before turned out to be like this… His load that had been accumulated for a long time was released inside you, flowing through and filling you up. His cock stayed inside you for a moment, until it was hard again and the thrust returned, slamming into your ass.

And wash your mouth haha, that's a little too hardcore(?) for me and that's just for being a mean and condescending reader. Sunday might not like a rough approach, so… maybe a gag? As long as you keep being mean and saying horrible shit, eventually your mouth will get gagged. All you could say was "mmm!!" and "eh", "wh…" and other unwritten sounds, and you glared at him. Regardless, eventually you'll learn how to compliment him properly and without any swear words. (If Sunday realizes your taunt, he will put the gag in your mouth again without hesitation.)

All in all, you discovered another side of Sunday after marriage. Maybe he is not an ascetic man. He knows how to control. He knows he wants you.

[sophiethewitch1]

What We Want Masterlist

In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe.

(Yandere!batboys x f!reader)

SUMMARY

Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.

Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?

As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.

And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.

Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?

GENERAL TRIGGER WARNINGS/THINGS YOU CAN EXPECT

18+ MDNI, SLOW BURN yandere, romantic yandere with the 4 robin boys, rest of the batfam aren't yandere but still care about you, reader is a girlfailure, ex-step siblings (the dead mother trope), reverse harem, healthy dosing of enemies to lovers, my stupid romance novel tropes, fem!reader and afab!reader, all romantic leads 18+, the graphic violence, death and other such triggers of the original series, attempted sexual assault (chpt. 3), themes of depression/suicide, family death, themes of poverty, alcohol, mentions of alcoholism, my own mix of canon because honestly the canon right now is embarrassing, atypical/soft yandere behaviour, fluff and angst, suggestive and eventual smut, an eventual shared darling/polyandry, SLOW/INCONSISTENT UPDATES (aiming for once a month)

0. - The Second Worst Birthday Ever 1. - Not Quite An Isekai 2. - First (Second) Introductions 3. - Dreams And... 4. - Nightmares Too 5. - Meet The Adams Family 6. - Round Two. Fight! 7. - Black N' White Knight 8. - Jason Fucking Todd

Word Count as of the Chapter 6: 37k

Series tag (anon asks, snippets, updates and actual chapters all included): #series:WWW

More important asks/FAQ

Question about the boys being romantic or platonic Another question about the boys being hesitant or not Question about Damian being platonic or yandere Questions about Bruce being platonic or yandere Important note about the ex-stepsis thing Future sneak peek ft. Dames being stupid Question about happy/sad ending Future sneak peek ft. Dick being stupid

Fanart! Please give everyone here lots of love, their work is amazing!

Tim's Introduction Jason's Introduction Reader Under The Table SceneTM Reader Before And After The Worst Birthday Ever

[chelseeebe]

jinx

18+ mdni. no smut but eddie is a grade a asshole to poor reader. mentions of weed and alcohol throughout. eddie munson x fem reader.

a/n: first off, anon i am sooo sooooo sorry it has taken me this long to fulfill your request!! i absolutely loved this request and am absolutely honoured that you came to me for it<33 i hope i've done it justice and that you still care to read this:') side note, i've updated my masterlist as i have slacked a bit but everything should be on there now ^.^

love me some chelseeebe angst—imagine fuckboy!eddie plays at the hideout right like regularly. reader starts frequenting his show days bc she likes him obviously but he starts noticing something. every time she comes in, something goes wrong. either he messes up a chord or cant see to flirt properly therefore no one ends up warming his bed as of late or something of the sort

his immediate first thought is ‘she’s a jinx!!!’ bc what other explanation could there be in his boy brain??? so he asks her to stop coming in. she does and yet he continues to mess up bc all he can think abt is her.

itd be so sexy if u added a moment of realization/angry love confession where in the middle of him being like you’ve bewitched me or something!!! he realizes hes the one obsessed with her.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

the party hums on in the background, a small group gathered outside to rob eddie blind, smoking away his entire supply. 

robin giggles nonsensically into steve’s shoulder, too high for her own good. 

“if you’re gonna smoke all my shit, the least you can do is come watch us tomorrow,” eddie had been nagging his friends to come down the hideout for months. they’d gathered a solid crowd now, not much but it was a start. 

robin groans, nancy and jonathan shift in their seats, steve can barely muster enough energy to reply and argyle snores. hardly enthusiastic about his dreams. 

“i’ll come,” you offer, bright-eyed as you smile politely at him from the floor. 

a friend of a friend, someone robin met in class and had dutifully introduced to the group. he didn’t know you well, nor had he ever really cared to. 

“i don’t think you’d like it, sweetheart” eddie retorts, flattered that you’d try and spare his feelings but he didn’t need your pity. 

“why? you can’t be that bad,” chuckling quietly to yourself. 

his eyes narrow, scoffing, “we’re not,” misunderstanding, or maybe just not caring to humour you back, “come if you want,” he shrugs nonchalantly, not as if any of his friends had offered to attend. 

“okay,” nodding along, “i will.” 

“alright,” turning his attention back to the embering joint glued to argyles fingers. 

who cares if you come? eddie certainly doesn’t. 

-

sure enough, the same couple dozen old drunks fill the bar, their glossy, zombie-like eyes stare back at him from the floor. he’d complain but beggars can’t be choosers and all that. 

they’re partway through the second song when something reflects in his eye, a low-cut sequinned top that would definitely look better on the floor of his van. 

it’s only when his eyes travel up that he realises it’s you who’s wearing that shirt, already looking straight back at him. a newfound look about you, thick lines of black line your eyes, worlds apart from the mousy girl who’d invited herself last night. 

“and we’re-,” he sings, an abrupt case of dry mouth as the next line struggles to come out, “we’re.. uh,” the entire song erased from his memory within seconds. 

he steps back from the mic, blinking rapidly in an attempt to trigger his voice though all he can see is you and that ridiculous top. 

gareth’s head whips round, still strumming along before picking up eddie’s slack, continuing the lyrics on his own, not without a damning glare in eddie’s direction. 

holy fuck. 

he’s just, taken aback, that’s all. shocked that you’d even bother to come, less so put the effort in to actually look the part too. 

his eyes don’t leave the back wall for the rest of the gig, practically stumbling through all of the songs as his head threatens to wander. trailing back to you only as they finish, walking off stage to down the harshest whisky the bar would allow. 

you saunter over a couple minutes later, while eddie tries his hardest not to stare right down your shirt. he’s not certain that he won’t choke on his words if you speak to him. 

“you were really good tonight,” you assure, smiling softly as his band mate turns to gawp. 

“uh, yeah.. thanks,” eddie fumbles, gripping the neck of his beer bottle, “thanks for coming.” 

there’s an aura surrounding you, like a wretched spell you’d evoked in him, turning him to a bumbling fool. 

“i’m gonna head out..” gesturing to the door, “see you around,” waving your fingers coyly at him before disappearing. 

his eyes linger at the door, wondering if maybe you’ll turn around and come back. not that he wants that. just curious as to why you’d come out just to see him play. 

“now who the hell was that?” jeff ogles, receiving a swift elbow to the ribs from eddie and a loud oof as he clutches his side. 

“a friend of a friend,” brushing him off, “don’t be weird about it,” jumping the gun to squash any sorts of ideas festering in his mind. 

“you’re the only one being weird about it,” jeff retorts, grabbing his beer and shuffling off. 

“i’m not being weird,” eddie calls from behind, “i’m not!” 

okay maybe he was being a little weird. 

who cares? 

definitely not eddie. 

-

this week, he feels more prepared to see you nodding along in the crowd, robin had joined you albeit looking less than impressed. 

eddie’s killing it, at least he thinks. avoiding looking anywhere in your direction, keeping his gaze on the stumbling drunk at the back instead. 

but the thoughts of you can’t help but creep into his mind, were you enjoying it? do you think he’s bad? why does he even care so much? 

his hand slides down the neck of the guitar, playing the wrong chord entirely, his fingers curating a mind of their own. 

fuck fuck fuck. 

why does this keep happening? 

gareth glares at him again, he had never been so frustrated with his idiot bandmate in his life. sure eddie liked to dick around in rehearsal but never on stage. 

if eddie ever wanted a career in music, he needed to get a monumental grip on himself. weird girls he barely knew should not have the capacity to ruin his career. 

after they clamber off stage, eddie makes a point of not going over to the two of you. no, you can come to him. 

though he wishes you’d just be a little faster at it if he’s honest. too busy squished into a booth with one of the younger regulars to care about him. 

heat rises in his chest, searing his cheeks a bright rouge, “-who is that?” gareth interrupts, bumping into his arm. 

“who’s who?” eddie coughs, clearing his throat as his eyes snap back. 

“that girl you’ve been staring at,” peering across the room to get a glimpse. 

“i’m not staring at anyone,” abruptly turning his head in the opposite direction, proving to himself that he wasn’t staring, not really. 

“you’re a liar,” gareth calls him on his bullshit immediately, “go talk to her! she’s hot,” scooting his friend along. 

“no she’s not,” you looked good tonight, he’d give you that, “can everyone please just stop being weird about this? first jeff- now you? honestly, i don’t get it,” working himself into a frenzy over what really was nothing. 

gareth’s eyes widen, scoffing at his melodramatic performance, “alright man.. calm down,” shaking his head in mild disgust. 

eddie was totally calm, you know, apart from his heart pounding in his chest. 

nothing major. 

-

filthy, downright pornographic sounds fill his cramped van, certain that it was rocking side to side with the utter obscenity happening in the back. 

chloe sits atop of his lap, tongues dancing around one another as she glides her hips back and forth. she was a regular, slightly older than eddie, at least he thinks, they’d made eyes a few times but only tonight had he gathered the courage to go and speak to her. 

any other time, eddie would be rock solid, pinning her down and fucking her into the dusty floor. today, it’s just not happening. 

his mind elsewhere, too preoccupied with nonsense to appreciate the opportunity at hand. 

he's thinking about you and the fact you’d left the bar without ever coming over to him tonight. what the fuck was that about? 

had he done something wrong? 

he breaks apart from her mouth, heaving into the tiny gap between them, “i don’t know what’s going on..” he chuckles awkwardly, looking down at his useless dick, “normally something happens by now..” 

she frowns, deep-set, showing her age more than before, “oh.” 

he reaches down, furiously palming his cock through his jeans. 

nothing. not even a twitch. 

he wants to curl up and die. never in his three years of actually getting laid has this ever happened. eddie got hard at the drop of a pin, he’d only have to think about boobs and his jeans would shift. 

so why the fuck wasn’t it working tonight?

“i’m gonna go,” chloe scowls, clambering over his legs, gathering her bag while not even attempting to hide her disappointment. 

eddie shoots up, pathetically crawling after her, desperate not to let her go. 

“it’s not me!” he screams out, watching helplessly as she crawls out of the van, “it’s you!”

no. 

“wait no! shit, that’s not what i meant,” peeking out of the van to find the empty parking lot, zero women to be found, “fuck sake.” 

left to wallow in his self-pity, alone, in the back of his dirty van. 

just as he deserved. 

if this was some karmic intervention, telling him to be a better person, he certainly wasn’t paying it any attention. 

-

another party meant another night of eddie trying to understand why the hell you had such an effect on him. 

it’s not even like you’re doing anything particularly riveting, sat with your drink in hand, nodding along to robin’s story. 

he can’t stand it. 

you have to go. 

maybe not like that, but he had to put some distance between you. there’s no way he could keep his sanity while you were still a constant in his life. 

eddie sidles over, feeling like the smartest guy in the room. he could do this, separate himself from you and your clutches and go back to playing as he once did. 

you smile upon him appearing, sickly and sweet. it makes his heart thump in the weirdest way. 

“oh.. hey,” playing this entirely nonchalantly, “i just thought i’d let you know that we’re not playing next week,” lying through his teeth, guilt ridden but really, it was necessary if he wanted to play a gig without fucking up the entire time. 

“oh,” sounding somewhat disappointed, “okay.. how come?” 

shit. 

he can’t think of a single valid reason as to why they wouldn’t be playing. 

“jeff’s sick.. real bad,” feeling even more guilty for lying about his friends health, wondering if he’s cursing jeff as you did him, “might even be a couple weeks off at this point.”

eddie was a terrible person. 

but so were you. 

bewitching him under some spell, forcing him to play terribly and embarrass himself in front of women 

you’ve jinxed him. a bad omen cursing him to play like a fucking amateur. that’s the only logical explanation his pea brain can conjure up anyway. 

that meant you had to stay away from the shows, from him preferably. 

he couldn’t understand why you have this effect on him, why your mere presence has him becoming a floundering fool. you don’t intimidate him, not even close. 

it’s almost as if he cares too much about what you think, to the extent that he overthinks it so hard that he fucks up. 

a curse that could only be broken with some distance between you. that way he could focus on the show instead of you and your doe eyes reflecting off of the stage lights. 

that’s what he’s praying for anyway. 

-

eddie despises wednesday’s. itching to get his classes over and done with so he can get his small taste of stardom on that tiny hideout stage. 

at some point over the last few weeks of you being an omnipotent presence in his life, he’d grown accustomed to crossing paths with you before the gig. 

crossing campus with your chin tucked down, arms wrapped tight around your books. typically only sharing a smile or a short nod. 

but this week you saunter over, resembling a frightened deer even more than usual. 

he pulls his headphone from his ear, anticipating whatever nonsensical, vaguely cute thing you were going to say. 

“hey,” he nods, a coy smile. 

even now you have his palms sweating, overthinking whether he should’ve said hi or hello instead. 

“you didn’t have to lie to me,” you start, brows furrowed, “it’s fine if you don’t want me to go to your gigs anymore, i don’t care,” a disappointed frown plaguing your normally cheerful face. “i thought i liked you eddie, really- but i don’t know anymore.. you’re not a good person.” 

you turn to walk off before he can even compute your words. 

oh shit. 

“wait!” he calls but it’s useless, “i didn’t- i wasn’t- fuck.”

it was unthinkably cruel, he didn’t think you’d ever find out. and maybe that was his problem, assuming you didn’t care enough to find out. 

guilt addles his chest, weighing heavy on his heart. for good reason too. 

eddie was an asshole. a true, grade-a asshole that wayne would positively despise him for. 

wait wait wait. 

you liked him? 

you liked him?

absolutely not. no way. that wasn’t what this was about.

or it’s not supposed to be. 

no, this was some adolescent feud, a confusing, one-sided, friendship that he couldn’t get a grip on. 

you didn’t like him. girls like you weren’t supposed to. 

-

it’s not at all surprising that he plays like absolute shit tonight too. 

guilt ridden for forcing your hand, for making you look at him like that. as if he were the worst person to walk the earth. 

shit, maybe he was. 

kind hearted people didn’t lie and deceive. no, kind hearted people came to gigs they obviously didn’t give a shit about. kind hearted people feigned interest in boring spiel about weed strains and whatever the fuck else eddie jabbered on about at parties. 

you, you were kind. kinder than he deserved. 

gareth slaps him harshly on the back the second they’re back behind the curtain, a scornful yet pitying scowl on his face, “look man,” he begins, “i dunno what’s going on with you but i don’t know how much longer they’re gonna let us play here if you keep playing like that.”

eddie sighs, because he knows this. he’s well aware that his performances have been lacklustre for weeks now. he just doesn’t really understand why. 

at first he thought it was just because you were there, a distance friend who would feed back to his friends about how good, or bad, he was. 

but that wasn’t it. 

you were there, and then you weren’t. and he still played like shit. 

somewhere entangled deep within his wretched heart, he thinks that maybe he just wanted to impress you. 

a nice girl, cares about her studies way more than he does, pretty too and you didn’t look at him like he was just some out of touch stoner with crazy dreams of his band getting big. 

you were polite, listening to his wacky stories and dreams of playing for thousands, in fact, you encouraged them, more than his friends ever had for sure. 

eddie’s not sure if, or how, he’ll ever be able to make amends for how he’s treated you. 

-

he’s making himself sick with worry. guilt wracking his brain. 

you don’t turn up that night, obviously. 

eddie’s eyes mindlessly search the crowd for any hint of you. his fingers failing to correspond with the rest of band, always playing a beat behind. 

you had infected him, ruined his once masterful skill to just a shell of what it once was. 

he doesn’t lay opportunity for the boys to speak to him again, rushing out of the bar as soon as his guitar is back in her case. 

there’s only one place he can think about going. 

a few months back, you’d hosted robin’s birthday party there and eddie had disgraced your bathroom with a girl he can’t even remember now. 

his fist bangs on the door, hoping the light in the upstairs window was you and not one of your roommates he’d have to shamefully apologise to. 

the orange light cascades over your face, peeking out from the barely cracked door with a frown that would scare any man off. 

“what’re you doing?” you spit, looking backwards in hopes he hadn’t woken the entire house up. 

“listen,” he sighs, “i’m real sorry about.. you know, lying to you,” his shoulders slumped over themselves, “but i just- i can’t fucking play when you’re there, can’t play when you’re not,” sounding utterly pathetic, begging for you to cure him from this sudden sickness. “i don’t know what to do anymore,” dragging his hand over his face. 

rightfully earning his spot as the worlds biggest fucking loser, stood on your doorstep begging for an answer. 

when he opens his eyes enough to look at you, you’re scowling back at him. nothing like how he had planned this situation in his head. 

he’d hoped that miraculously you’d understand, accept his apology and somehow still feel the same as you had. 

because that was it, really. 

too terrified to face the fact that he liked you too. 

somewhere in his heart of hearts he’d known it from the start. that’s why his heart fluttered when you’d volunteered to come or why he’d struggled to even touch anyone else. 

“what do you want me to say?” shrugging, “i won’t come back, that’s fine,” he wishes you’d just follow the script he’d curated for you. 

eddie doesn’t want you to stop coming, he never had. it’s killing him that you even believed that, twisting the knife in his chest further and further the more your bottom lip juts out and your eyes water. 

“actually, maybe it’s best if we don’t talk anymore,” you suggest, throwing him completely off kilter. 

woah. 

that wasn’t at all what he wanted nor was he trying to say. he just couldn’t gather the actual words he needed to express that to you. 

petrified that he’d admit to his feelings and you’d just turn around and laugh, how could someone like you ever like such a cruel man? 

“wait no, that’s not what i meant-,” bargaining with you for a little time to explain himself, though you definitely didn’t owe him any.

“-thanks for coming eddie, i’ll see you around,” flashing him a crestfallen smile before abruptly closing the door in his face. 

-

public humiliation was truly the only way eddie could think to make it up to you. 

well that and maybe a little big nudge from robin. 

he’d rather stupidly asked about you on saturday night, confused why you weren’t there alongside robin, who had very quickly got him in check. 

“why do you think dumbass?” she snapped, snarling her teeth at him, “you were an asshole and now she’s doesn’t want to come anymore,” her glare powerful and harsh, "i'd say you were lucky she didn't punch you in the face."

he’d deserve it. 

it had taken weeks of convincing to get you anywhere near the hideout again. not to mention the hundreds in free weed he’d had to bribe robin with to get her to help. 

you stand in a dark corner, hands folded against your chest, puzzled and irritated by robin’s incessant begging to get you here. 

“there’s someone here that i wanna apologise to,” his eyes don’t find you as easy this time, after weeks of missing your presence, he’s not used to you actually being in the crowd again, “if you know us, you know i can be a bit of an asshole sometimes, uh..” they find you, the lump only growing in his throat, “i’m sorry,” tunnel vision blocking out every other body in the room, “i’m really, really sorry.”

you blink, staring back at him like a deer caught in headlights. it makes him a little bit nauseous to recall how dreadfully he’d treated you, how you deserved absolutely none of it. 

your gaze lowers, and eddie can’t decide how to take it. he wouldn’t blame you if you decided to never forgive him, but he also couldn’t take it if you didn’t. 

his voice cracks a little as he speaks, “this is.. uh, we’re corroded coffin,” stepping back from the mic to gather his thoughts before the drum comes crashing in. 

-

eddie plays the best he’s potentially ever played. 

a force overcoming him to prove that he truly wasn’t as much as a loser as he’s shown himself to be.  

usually, he couldn’t wait to be off that stage and to the bar but today he’s dreading it. 

knowing that you’re somewhere out there waiting for an explanation. 

or maybe you weren’t. he wouldn’t blame you if you’d decided to leave soon after he’d embarrassed himself with that shitty apology. 

gareth runs up behind him, using his shoulders to launch himself into the air, “holy shit! that was amazing!” the boy presses a slobbery kiss to his cheek before continuing, “whatever the hell you did, keep doing it because that was insane!” running off past eddie to grab his weekly complimentary beer. 

a sudden sickness fills his stomach, slyly hoping that he could slip out of here before anyone else noticed him. 

you stand across the bar, waiting to catch his eye with your lips curled only ever-so-slightly. 

eddie’s limbs go stiff, still entranced by your jinx. by you.

your eyes trail away to the door as his follow, shuffling your way through the bustling crowd. 

his legs carry him without a second thought, out into the cool night as his eyes frantically search for you. 

he finds you perched against the crumbling stone wall a few feet from the entrance, just far enough away from the prying eyes of the smoking patrons. 

“i didn’t think you’d ever come back here,” is all he can say, feet trailing along the gravel. 

the streetlight glistens orange from your eyes, staring up at him from your perch, “i didn’t want to,” your smile only growing as he nears, “robin made me.” 

“oh,” it wasn’t as if he didn’t know that or that he didn’t orchestrated the entire thing, it just felt odd to hear it from your mouth. 

“i’m glad i came,” you clarify, allowing him to finally release the breath held tight in his chest. 

eddie dares to move closer, sitting back on the brick just inches away, “yeah?” 

you nod, the great big smile he’d forced away making a return at last, “yeah.” 

suddenly the air feels thick, it was easier apologising on stage, those people didn’t know him, they didn’t care. but now, sat here in front of you, it feels like he’s swallowing knives. 

“i’m really sorry for making you feel that way,” though it sounds meaningless now the damage was done, “i don’t know if you still care about me at all, but i- um,” his throat runs dry, clamping his eyes shut. it felt easier that way, somehow, “i think the reason why i was such.. an asshole,” the light flickers through his eyelids again, deciding that you at least deserved to see him, “fuck,” he exclaims, staring back at your confused expression. 

“it’s okay,” soothing even now, “you don’t have to explain yourself to me,” a twinge of sadness running through your tone. 

“no, no i do,” eddie persists. he’d fumbled once, he couldn’t do it again. “shit man,” he sighs, “i’m trying to tell you that i like you too, or maybe not too, i know i was an ass and i don’t deserve your forgiveness-,” your lips cuts him off mid-mumble, surging forward to press them against his blathering ones. 

he has to blink a couple times, taking in whatever the fuck was happening to him. 

you pull back, disappointed that his brain had been to fuzzy to focus on kissing you back. too preoccupied with trying not to explode and paint you in red. 

“really eddie.. it’s okay,” returning to your usual reserved self while his brain still struggles to compute. 

“can we do that again?” he asks politely, keeping the bubbling excitement to a minimum. 

you laugh, a real, throaty laugh, something he hadn’t heard in weeks, “only if you promise to stop talking,” leaning in once more, the rigid wall suddenly feeling like it was about to collapse from underneath him. 

your soft, cherry-tinted lips press against his forehead a second time, allowing him to gather his brain from a pile of mush on the floor just enough to actually kiss you back. a tender hand reaching out to caress his stubbly cheek, sending shockwaves through his limbs. 

you’re interrupted again by a loud whoop from behind, robin clapping wildly as she emerges from the bar, “now you two have kissed and made up, can we go home now?” 

[celaenaeiln]

in like a one person gets one, who would dicks soulmate (platonic or not idk) be? i’ve asked this to several ppl and the answers are usually wally, donna, or jason though i’ve seen some ppl say slade, roy, and bruce.

Anon your ask has literally been haunting me at night. I thought I knew the answer but then you hit me with a Donna!! But between Bruce and Donna, I can't decide so I'll just present a case for both.

Bruce

Bruce and Dick are soulmates on a cosmological scale. The DC universe ordained them to always find each other because they're quite literally a fated pair.

Batman: Legends of the Dark Knight Issue #23

Bruce: The only regret is that I'm out there alone. It felt good having someone at my back, being part of a team...but no sense wasting time wishing for something I'll never have.

Dick: He's cool, dad...d'you think we'll ever see him when we play Gotham?

The universe literally brings them together no matter the circumstances.

Convergence Issue #4

"The bond between you and Bruce Wayne echoes in every reality."

I don't think there's any stronger evidence for Dick and Bruce being soulmates than this.

But if that's still not enough I have more-

The Multiversity: Guidebook

In Bruce's world he lost Dick and in Dick's world he lost Bruce, but still in the end they somehow find each other. In every universe that has Batman, if someone is his partner it's always Dick.

In the medieval ages world-

Batman: Dark Knight of the Round Table Issue #1

The world of "A Christmas Carol" with Ebenezer Scrooge -

Batman: Noël

In a world where Bruce is a doctor at Arkham -

The Batman of Arkham

Dick is always there as his second.

Here's another interesting but depressing fact: In worlds where Dick Grayson has died as Robin, Bruce Wayne has never taken in another Robin.

This is because on top of the fact that Dick and Bruce as fated to meet, Dick means the entire world for Bruce. Like sometimes Bruce will come across a case with a child involved and the first thing he'll think about is Dick.

Batman: City of Madness Issue #2

Bruce's mind and life is literally consumed by Dick Grayson on a cosmologically spiritual level.

Donna

Donna is Dick's soulmate on a twin-sister spiritual level. Dick and Bruce are two halves of a whole, yin and yang. Dick and Donna though are one person. Their relationship is like taking paint and mixing it together to get something new. Like in those comics where two people look at each other and there's a "zing!" and suddenly it's an instant connection. That's them.

Titans (2016) Special 1

additionally:

Titans (2016) Special 1

New Titans (1988) Issue #89

Dick and Donna have no secrets. They're like a jigsaw puzzle, their pieces fall right into place.

He's always there for her-

The New Teen Titans (1980) Issue #38

They're so special and integral to each other that when an evil witch erases Donna from everyone's memories, there is only one focal point for her. One focal person for her throughout the years. Even though he doesn't remember her, Dick literally goes back in time with his future daughter Mar'i to help Donna, his soul-sister-

The Titans (1999) Issue #25

In every. single. moment of Donna's past Dick appears again and again to comfort her and be her pillar from Robin to civies to Nightwing. In the "Who is Donna Troy" Arc, as the story goes from the origins of Donna to the present, it becomes very clear that Dick is her centerpoint.

They're the definition of soulmates.

She knows him better than anyone else and he knows her. She even had him walk her Donna the aisle for her wedding. He was given that honor because of who they are to each other.

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #42

I...

just-

Tales of the Teen Titans Issue #50

to love like that...

They're made for each other.

[whoishotteranimepolls]

In Defense of Nami and Robin (Off Anon for the pics)

So, yes, Oda's way of drawing women is...not great. But they are written beautifully, and to be fair, Toei (The anime) makes the design issue even worse than it is in the manga. (Also, the way in which they ugly cry is amazing, full snot, tears, wobbly lips, red face).

Nami and Robin are some of the best written, well rounded female characters I've seen. They have similar arcs, with tragic backstories that shaped how they see the world and affects their actions and relationships to others, and they have to learn to rely on others, and ask for help and put their trust in others. They are integral to the plot, Luffy will never be able to achieve his dream of being the Pirate King without them.

So first of all, Nami

Yes, this is probably the best picture of Nami's waist in the series, at least, post-time skip

Nami is the Navigator of the Strawhat Pirates, and an officer of the grand fleet. Unfortunately, the same face syndrome does start with her, a lot of the female characters will have her face. But design aesthetics aside, she is a wonder, complex, and dynamic character.

She was adopted by a marine women and raised on a tangerine farm with her older sister. They were poor, Nami always got her sister's hand-me-downs and their mom often skipped meals to make sure her girls had enough to eat. Nami, was an average 8 year old brat who did resent not having enough money to eat, or have clothes, or to buy navigation books like she wanted. But she was loved. So, of course, pirates attacked her village. They demanded a fine from each of the families in town based on adults and children in the household, and her mom was killed because she only had enough money for the girls. The same pirate, Arlong, made a deal with Nami, she could buy back her village for 100,000 belli, but in the meantime, she had to join his crew and work for him creating maps, where he preceded to work her until her fingers bled. She also became a thief and stole money from other pirates to add to the funds to buy her village back. This is where her catch phrase "I only love money and tangerines!" comes from. She intended to betray the Strawhats, but realized that they were the only people to ever show her love and kindness, and when Arlong betrayed her, she learned how to ask for help, to ease her burdens and rely on others when she needed it. Her scene where she was trying to cut her Arlong Pirate's tattoo off before asking Luffy for help remains one of the most profound moments in anime. While she was saved from Arlong, I wouldn't say she was necessarily a damsel in distress, she tried everything in her power, and part of her arc was accepting she didn't have to be alone. Luffy also never insisted on helping her because she was a weak girl or anything, he didn't care at all about her backstory, he just wanted to hurt whoever made her cry.

Apart of Nami's character is her love of money, desire to create maps and navigate the world, and how much she loves her friends/family and is willing to sacrifice for them, as well as the amount of forgiveness and kindness she is capable of and her love for children. She forgave one of the pirates that kept her as a slave, and when his friend, Camie, was almost sold into slavery, Nami didn't hesitate to spend all the money they had to buy her freedom. She discovered children were being experimented on by a crazy scientist and nearly went scorched earth.

When Nami came face to face with an enemy she couldn't beat, despite being a coward and thinking of herself as weak, she didn't back down because she refused to dismiss her captain. She showed incredible bravery and integrity, refusing to lie and break her ideals.

But she can also hold her own as well, she doesn't always lose or need to be rescued. She fights with a Clima-Tact, a weapon that allows her to summon lightning and use weather phenomena to her advantage. She beat Kalifa, a government assassin, Miss-Double-Finger, one of the strongest assassins in Baroque Works, Hotori and Kotori, and various other pirates. She also is particularly agile and has pretty high endurance. (Bonus points, in an anime filler arc, she is the first character with on-screen confirmed kill)

She also is a very skilled navigator, thief, liar, can predict weather phenomenon, maintains the crew's money and budget, a con artist, and cartography (including sea charts which are very difficult). She loves fashion, money, shopping, and is vain. She also somehow maintains her mom's tangerine trees while on a sailing ship.

The fandom widely considered her to be a lesbian, but of course that is only coding/head canons. But she has had very close relationships to other women in the series, including Vivi, and has expressed that she "has a soft spot for strong marine women."

Nico Robin

Her introduction to the series was strong, as she is one of the strongest members of the enemy faction Baroque Works. She was a serious threat, managing to infiltrate the Strawhat's ship and steal Luffy's hat and living to tell the tale, but she was also very mysterious and compelling. Despite being an enemy, she saved Luffy's life, and expressed amusement over his antics. When she tried to commit suicide in the tombs below Alabasta, after betraying her boss, Luffy saved her life, despite her protests. In return, she snuck back onto his ship and made herself his problem.

Like Nami, she has a tragic past that cause her profound trauma, sadness, a distrust in others, but ultimately, she found hope in the Strawhat pirates, and in Luffy, learning how to rely on them, and in return, being relied on. She can ask for help from them, but they ask for help from her as well.

When she was a child, her mother left to sail the seas and become an archaeologist. She was outcasted by her aunt, and her village, but she was accepted by the scholars who lived on her island. The island's name was Ohara. Against the other archaeologists wishes, she learned how to read the mysterious poneglyphs because she wanted to learn the true history of the world. Her first friend was a giant who washed up on the island and taught her how to laugh. But the World Government outlawed the language of the poneglyphs and learning about the true history. And so, they wiped her island clean off the map in an act called a Buster Call, and every single person but Robin was died. Desperate to capture her, they placed a 79,000,000 bounty on her head when she was only 8 years old, dubbed her a "devil child" and claimed she destroyed several marine battleships. For nearly 20 years she ran from organization to organization, only for all of them to betray her and try and turn her in.

While sailing with Luffy, it was the happiest she had ever been. Despite being an enemy just weeks earlier, they accepted her. Even when she was injured by another enemy, Zoro was pissed on her behalf. SO when the World Government finally caught up with her and blackmailed her into helping them while threatening to enact a Buster Call on the Strawhats (and an innocent island) she agreed to go along with them, even trying to sacrifice her own life so that the Strawhats can escape.

Of course, Luffy declared war on the Government and made Robin admit she didn't want to die, she wanted to live.

Robin is smart, capable, caring, funny, and strong. She just wants to learn history and have a family, and she suffered for years before she was finally able to be free enough to do so. She is a strong fighter because she had to be, and she is completely willing to became a monster and protect her friends. She hasn't been in many fights, but she won all of the ones she was in. She wasn't fooled by mind games and magic of enemies in Wano, and kept a calm and collected head. She is a skilled historian, archaeologist, osteologists, assassin, espionage, linguistics, and was a popular geisha. For most of the series she held the 2nd, 3rd, and 4th, highest bounties in the crew. When an enemy threatened the crew, a different enemy pointed out that, (at least, With Luffy not there) Zoro and Robin were labeled as the strongest and most threatening members of the crew, capable of killing an enemy before the rest of the crew were even aware of the threat. Oh, and she has a demon form.

Other Female Characters: Kiku/O-Kiku/Kikunojo of the Fallen Snow

A canonical transgender women who is also a samurai. She is completely accepted for who she is by everyone in the story, and is another strong and capable female character. She is shy and tries to keep a low profile (despite being 8 feet tall), but is more than willing to defend the weak and win back her home island.

The original ask mentioned healers, and there isn't a whole lot of female doctors/healers in One Piece but there is Dr. Kureha. Kureha is the oldest human character, wears crop tops in winter, and will beat Luffy with a rubber chicken and an axe for calling her old. She taught Chopper everything he knows. She is crotchety and stingy, but an amazing doctor and a professional.

Boa Hancock:

Yes she is the most beautiful woman in the world, and yes, her design leaves some to be desired. But she is also a rape victim and a former slave, she hates men, and runs an empire of female pirates. She shows kindness to Luffy once he establishes he holds no sexual desire for her and wanted so save the lives of people he just met.

Other Notable Female Designs

The first mermaid we meet is Kokoro:

Dadan is Luffy's adopted mom who raised 3 feral boys and is the leader of a band of mountain bandits:

Big Mom is one of the strongest female pirates in the series and has dozens of children:

Vice Admiral Tsuru is one of the strongest female marines:

Boa Sandersonia and Marigold, Hancock's sister with the same backstory :

Lola, one of Nami's friends:

Other Gender Stuff:

Ivankov and Inazuma who are genderfluid, and Ivankov is the Queen of an island of queer people

Bonclay who is genderqueer, refered to as both male and female

And Morley who is also transfem

Despite the character designs, One Piece has some of the best written female characters, even if at first glance they may seem like stereotypical shonen women, they hold much more complexity to them. They aren't all damsels in distress, but their strength goes beyond just being able to kick ass. They are kind and compassionate, and they kindness are rarely seen as a weakness. They are smart and experts in their fields of study, which is wide and varied, from history, cartography, science, and medicine. There are several female rulers of their countries, including Hancock, Vivi, and Big Mom. There is a variety of body types and faces, even if they are lacking in compared to male characters. All of their backstories are unique, fleshed out, and has an impact on their characters and their character arcs.

Did I spend two hours typing a 2000+ word essay on women and started to lose steam? Yes. Am I passionate about female characters in One Piece? Also yes. Can you tell I'm very gay for these characters? Probably. Am I sorry to the mod/followers for the long post? Eh, y'all asked for this lmao. Did I catch all the spelling mistakes in my frantically written essay. Maybe

For context, they are responding to this post about Nami and Robin

I don't have anything else to add other than great work

[superblysubpar]

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We Got Love:

modern!steve harrington x fem!reader

summary: Steve picks you up from the bar after your night out with Robin and he realizes he's overwhelmingly in love. | my blog is 18+ Only

5,493 words

the song: overwhelming by Jon Bellion

warnings: reader consumes alcohol with descriptions of being tipsy

A/N: A night out with @loveshotzz in Chicago had us thinking about Steve picking us up and bringing us to McDonald's and then a sweet anon sent a thought about Steve helping our tipsy selves and thus this fic was born. I hope you love it!💛

Steve was in too deep. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard or this quickly. Sure, he’s known for giving his heart away too easily, but he knew this was different. He knew you were different. He was going to take it slow this time - he had a whole plan. 

He’s never been a good planner.  

You’re sweet and soft, but you’re not afraid to bite back. You’ve got an energy about you, and sometimes he feels a little like you’re the sun. He can’t help but be drawn to you, like you’ve got a gravitational pull just for him, but if he gets too close too fast he’s gonna get burned like he always does. 

But Jesus Christ, you’re not making it easy for him. You’re so sweet and perfect already, but you have to be gorgeous too? Cause you’re always pretty, but tonight…wow. And your ass in those jeans. His hands form fists at his sides, planting his heels into the floor so he doesn’t just start making out with you in front of Robin. He’s going a little insane - like he feels like he needs to keep his hands on you at all times or he’ll literally stop breathing, he’ll die if he doesn’t get to kiss you and -

He’s so fucked. 

Hair curled and bouncing across your shoulders as Robin and you dance and headbang to the early 2000s playlist she insisted would pump you up for your girls night out. His bathroom counter is littered with lipsticks and various tubes of things you hold up to him in the store for his opinion on. He just nods and asks ‘Do you like it?’ before you drop it into the red cart with a smile and leave a kiss on his cheek. 

A laugh that has the ability to actually crawl into his chest and burrow inside of his heart leaves you as Robin gives you shit for being high maintenance. He hides a smile from his spot leaning in the doorway as you insist that the tequila shot is going to be better with the orange, “Trust me, Robs. When have I steered you wrong?”

Robin starts to list several times you’ve done just that and your face scrunches as you stick your tongue out at her. Steve watches you both lick salt from your wrists and as you make eye contact with him he clears his throat and looks down, cheeks flushing pink at the thought of your tongue like he’s thirteen again.  

Yup, totally fucked. 

The clink of your glasses on the counter draws his eyes up once more, your face squished in amusing pain as you suck on the orange slice, eyes fluttering open and removing it with a wide smile directed at him over Robin’s shoulder. Body wiggling and hands clapping together as the alcohol enters your body and another laugh leaves it as Robin begrudgingly admits to liking the orange.  

A pink stain left on the rim of the glass and one on his cheek after you skip over to him, arms wrapping around his neck. Steve’s hands find their favorite spot on your hips, fingers slipping seamlessly into the belt loops and trying not to think about how your hips and ass are gonna look dancing out at the bar without him. How you naturally sway easily to the beat, and smile around the skinny neon straw between your teeth as someone tells a story. How in between turns at an arcade game or a round of pool you use the stick or someone’s open fist to sing along to the songs playing because your walls come down a little from just a few drinks. 

You lean back to peer at him with a smile that makes his heart stutter, sure he’ll need to seek actual medical attention to get it restarted as you tap your nose to his chin. God, you’re so fucking pretty. 

“You gonna be okay all by yourself tonight handsome?”

Handsome. 

He can’t help but sigh a little when you call him that. Can’t help the way his hand moves to push a piece of your hair behind your ear like he’s a leading man in a rom com you’ve made him watch. 

He wants to tell you the truth. That no, as a matter of fact, he will not be okay alone and he needs you to stay. And it freaks him out a little bit that he wants you to stay forever and it’s not even for sex. He wants to debate about the best candy to have with popcorn, for you to shove your cold hands under his shirt and press your nose into his neck. To banter about what to watch only for you to fall asleep five minutes into it. Words on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t want you to leave ever. Because you’re going to go out tonight and go back to your place and he feels crazy because he wants you to just move in and that’s not in the plan. That’s not taking it slow at all, Harrington. 

Raising your eyebrows at him, waiting for his response, his hands now push your hair from your shoulders gently. Swallowing harshly as his fingertips graze over the straps of your black tank top hiding under a jacket, trailing up your neck and back down relishing a little in the goosebumps that rise in their wake. A non committal hum leaves his pursed lips before he sighs, “You know, I really don't know. I think you should stay, just to be safe.” 

It’s not the words that cause the feeling of a box of bouncy balls being dropped in your stomach, but the way Steve says them with that look. Tone and eyes warm like honey dripping over every inch of you, sealing your body in a sweet and sticky heaviness. Convinced you’d melt into an actual pile of goo if he let go of you, ready to shout how you’re feeling from every open window at every tallest peak in the world. Tequila and citrus mingle with the words that dance on your tongue, making it all a little harder to keep inside. You’re far too tempted to tell Robin that there’s a change of plans and you’ll have to stay curled up next to your boyfriend for the rest of your life. 

You don’t say those things though, but you pretend to play along with his game - to see how much of his heart he’s willing to give away before you give all of yours to him. 

“Well, safety is my middle name…”

Steve’s smile widens, lopsided and rising on the right and you want to reach out and trace over his lips and memorize the smile you’re able to pull out of him - just for you. Body filling with heat at the thought as his hands squeeze at your shoulders. 

Thumbs brushing across your neck as he takes the smallest step to fully close the distance between your bodies, “Right, so really, it’s your duty to-”

“Oh god, I need another shot!” Robin smacks her head against the counter several times, “Please, for my sake, would you just kiss and say goodbye so we can go already?”

Stepping onto your toes, your nose brushes Steve’s and he sighs as your lips hover over his, “Don’t have too much fun without me, okay?”

A clink of Robin’s shot glass hitting the counter makes your lips twitch. 

“Fun? Without you? Just misery with no company here.” Steve huffs and taps the tip of your shoes with his socked foot. Pouting his lips out dramatically in one last feeble attempt to get you to stay. You catch his bottom lip with yours, pressing a soft and over too quick kiss there. 

Robin bangs her head on the counter again as his fingers slip into your hair, cradling the back of your head. His tongue pokes out to lick across his top lip, citrus and salt lingering on it. 

Warm eyes dancing between yours as he whispers a plea, “One more?”

Desperate for a pillow to scream into, to kick your legs and giggle like the lovesick fool that you are, you just bite back a grin as he tilts your head further. Lips molding around yours, soft and lazy and making you feel like you’re the only two people in the world. Noses squished together, thumbs buzzing across your cheeks, Steve sighs into you and your foot practically pops like you’re in a black and white movie and the end credits song is going to start playing. 

The tap of Robin’s foot in impatience and a loud clearing of her throat makes the smile you were biting back win as you pull away reluctantly. Unable to help yourself, one more quick peck to his top lip before you untangle your heart and hands from his. 

Tugging Robin towards the door, you glance over your shoulder to find Steve with his hands running through his hair, eyes blinking open as you smile widely. A sing song lilt to your voice as you call back through the closing door, “Have fun with your misery!”

Robin’s voice echoes down the hallway, “You’re both disgusting!”

Your voice louder and exasperated, “You told me to kiss him goodbye!”

Steve’s forehead hits the now closed door as he groans, palms dragging over the wood before they form fists. He already misses you. He’s a chump. He’s in love. He’s pretty sure you’re the one. 

So, so, so fucked. 

He tries not to wallow, cause that would be pathetic. 

He’s pathetic.

Alone in his apartment trying not to think of you, except you’re everywhere. He cleans up your pregame shenanigans, despite you insisting you’d do it earlier before leaving - he was happy to do it so you could have more time with Robin. There’s a blanket you bought for his couch, your favorite coffee mug fresh out of the dishwasher and hung on a hook. The scent of your perfume and body wash in his bathroom and a toothbrush next to his. Clothes returned to half of a drawer that was basically just entirely yours now. 

Eventually, he’s tired of his own co-dependent self pitying and crawls into bed, curling into the pillow that now smells like you. Thoughts of you lull him into a restless sleep. Tossing and turning and desperate to reach out and feel your body clinging to his, legs tangled together and cheek pressed to his chest. 

Steve would be lying if he said he didn’t love the fact he woke up at almost 2am to his phone ringing loudly, your face filling the screen. A picture he’d recently caught of you, holding a giant burrito in your hands and staring lovingly at it like it was your child. 

Just the sight of it makes his chest ache and he takes maybe a second longer to answer since he’s caught up in staring at it. Clearing his throat before he answers, “Hello?”

“Oh, fuck, you sound…I…” your voice wobbles and a barely audible sigh falls into the speaker, not expecting the heavy sound of his voice. Not prepared for the deep gruff from his chest and sleep coated word to make your thighs push together like they do. 

He sits up straighter and flicks on his lamp, “Hey, everything okay?”

“Ye-yeah,” you hiccup and giggle and then continue, “Yes. You just sound so sexy, I’m - well he does!” You’re shouting to Robin who he hears grumbling in the background and his bottom lip pulls in, tugged between his teeth as he fights a smile. 

“Called just to tell me that, huh?” Purposely whispering so his voice sounds a little raspier, practically able to see you melting on the other side of the phone. 

“Fuck…no?” His smile breaks through at the sound of your sentence ending in a question before you keep going, “I…I called because….oh! Uber! There’s like no Uber’s around and well okay there was one but we’d have to share it with these guys and…”

Steve is already pulling on sweats and the black sweatshirt you were always stealing. Pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he slips on the first pair of shoes he can find. Locking the front door and spinning his keys on a finger as you continue on. Somehow your story turns from Uber to Robin having a rum and coke come out of her nose because of a joke you told and how you totally crushed her at ski-ball.

He could listen to you talk about nothing and everything, just enjoying the sound of your voice and the way you light up when you tell a story. It can’t be crazy to be so in love with you already. You have to feel this way too, right? 

“Anyways, I’m talking a lot and Robin is tapping her wrist.” You laugh and a snort comes out and somehow he falls even harder. “Like she’s ever worn a watch and been on time in her life - oh really? Name one time! Uh-huh, that’s what I thought, Buckley!”

“Babe,” Steve interrupts, rubbing his jaw to fight the aching smile he’s had on his face for the past few minutes. It’s a new name still, sticky in his throat and makes his heart speed up a little at the risk of saying it every time, but he loves the way you react.

“Yeah?” A little breathless, he can hear you smile through the phone. Easily able to picture the piece of hair twirling around your finger as you quietly tack on, “I like when you call me babe, Stevie.”

He breathes deeply through his nose, forehead pressing to the steering wheel. It feels like he’s drawing each word out of his brain painfully slowly because all that wants to come out is ‘I love you’ and he needs to say, “I’m in the car, where are you?”

“Oh! I’ll drop a pin! Thanks Steve I lo-” your voice cracks as it falls off before you quickly shout, “See you soon!” and then silence. 

The entire drive to you is unbearably long and filled with Steve telling himself you weren’t about to say what he thinks you were. 

Not that it would be a bad thing if you had said it, but he wants to be first. And he knows he feels that way about you, he just thought it was all too soon. Saying those three little words out loud has burned him before, but for some reason he knows it’s nothing like the pain he’ll feel if he says them to you and you don’t say them back. 

As snowflakes hit his windshield and disappear just as quickly, he comes to a stop at a red light, the barcade just on the other side of the intersection and he smiles. You’re out on the sidewalk with Robin who appears like she’s trying not to look amused as you cabbage patch and disco to a song that must be playing. Stopping suddenly, he can tell you shout that it’s snowing and Robin must say something sarcastic back because you wave her off and start to spin a little. Head thrown back with a wide smile, tongue sticking out to catch a snowflake. He pulls up to the curb and hops out of the car. 

Your head falls forward and his name leaves your lips behind the widening smile, the ‘E’ at the end trailing off and wrapping around his heart. 

Steve’s hair is a mess, carmel and honey, lazily askew and you ache to card your fingers through it. Can you do that yet? Is jumping into his arms and running your hands through his hair after only a few hours away from each other too needy? Your buzzed brain and body are toeing the line of not really caring if it is. Especially with his glasses falling down the slope of his nose, hands in his sweatshirt pocket and a smile on his lips. Gray sweats sitting low on his hips and you bite back a smile at the loafers he probably quickly grabbed. Lit up in oranges and yellows from the streetlight and neon green of the bar sign flashing overhead. You could jump his bones right there against the car. 

Falling into his arms with a low and content sigh, your fingers lock around his neck and toy with the ends of his hair in a sort of compromise with yourself. Nose pressing into his jaw, inhaling the familiar scent you’d missed in just a few short hours. Woodsy, maybe a little leather, and Steve and you could dare to call it home already. Swallowing the thought down, you whine a little and reveal a different thought, “Fuck, you are so handsome.”

Steve’s breath catches like you haven’t called him that before, taking in the way you blink and flutter your eyelashes, wet from snowflakes melting on your skin. Arms wrapping around your waist to keep you up right - or at least that’s his excuse. 

“I’m sure you say that to all the guys,” his voice still scratchy with sleep. He clears his throat, thumb rubbing against your skin just under the hem of your shirt. He’s lost in the feeling of you relaxing into his hold completely, like there isn’t any other place you’d rather be. Realizing that he can be a little needy with you, because you are with him. 

The warm pads of his fingers on the exposed skin of your sides threaten to draw all of your attention. Forgetting what you said, what he said, or why you were even there. All information gone from your brain other than the fact that his lips are right there and looking far too kissable. 

Pulling slightly away so you can stare into his eyes, you grin, touching your nose to his quickly, “Only you, Goose.”

Steve risks sliding his hands up your sides more, your shirt rising ever so slightly and his fingers buzzing over your skin. You love the way his lips quirk up at the nickname and he loves the shiver that runs through you and the way your breath hits his cheek sharply as he touches his forehead to yours and whispers, “Flattery will get you everywhere, Maverick.”

Rising onto the tips of your chucks, fingers finally pushing up and finding a home in Steve’s hair and you sigh. The neon lights could dim, a pop song could start playing and script scrawling across the screen announcing they lived happily ever after could all happen and you wouldn’t even be remotely surprised. It all feels a little like a dream, this thing with you and Steve, and you really hope you don’t ever wake up from it. 

Mouth hovering over his, the mint of toothpaste on his breath begging to mix with the alcohol on yours, but leave it to your mutual best friend to ruin the moment yet again. 

“Get a room!” Robin’s hands tap the side of the back car door, her plea echoing down the quickly emptying sidewalk. 

Steve turns to glare at her, her body half out the window and a wide grin on her face. The two old friends in a staring contest and silent conversation when your stomach growls and a giggle slips out of your lips. Tugging on Steve’s shirt as you request, “Hey, can we get chicken nuggets?”

Robin snaps her fingers and points to you, “Yes! Now that’s more like it! Oh! And fries!”

“And a shake!” You jump up and down and Steve rolls his eyes at both of you, his hands still on your hips giving a light squeeze though. 

He fights his amusement at your tipsy state and sighs dramatically, “Any more requests?”

“Nope!” spinning past him, he opens the car door and helps you in as Robin grumbles about her not receiving any help to get into her seat. 

Steve begins to stand and your fingers tug him down by the collar, “Wait! I thought of one more thing I want.”

Snow turning to rain on the back of his neck as you lean in closer and he whispers, “Yeah? What’ll it be, honey?”

“A kiss,” smiling as your lips hover over his. 

Steve’s cheeks turn pink and you’re so totally and completely in love with him it physically hurts when he whispers, “As you wish,” and presses his lips to yours. 

It’s not a sweet and quick kiss like he intended, you’re a little greedy with it. Fingers clutching his sweatshirt, mouth parting over his and he can’t help but hold your cheeks and pull you in deeper. 

“I’m seriously going to puke in your car Steven, and it’s not from the alcoholic beverages I’ve consumed tonight.”

Robin’s annoyed tone sends a giggle ripping through you, breaking the kiss and your hands release him and Steve takes a moment to take you in longer. Lips a little redder and glossier, eyes shimmering under fluttering eyelashes and his thumbs brush over your cheeks and he sighs, “You’re trouble, you know that?”

A grin and a kiss to his palm as your eyes look up at him innocently but your mouth forms a smirk tells him you definitely know. 

He releases you reluctantly and closes the door carefully before jogging around the front of the car. Absolutely worth the flick to his ear he receives from Robin as he brings your hand up to his lips, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before letting his hand rest on your thigh. 

The drive to McDonald’s is not long, just down a few blocks, but it feels like years to your tipsy state. Steve’s fingers brush your thigh back and forth, setting your skin on fire despite the layer of fabric between them. Aimlessly playing with his fingers, brushing over his wrist before a song on the radio catches your attention. 

Steve watches as you light up, turning the dial and proceed to belt out almost every lyric wrong, but somehow manage to try to sing along to the guitar and the drums at the same time. You end up leaning across the console, fingers playing with his hair, his ear, his jaw and it takes every ounce of his willpower to keep his eyes on the road. 

“Keep your hands to yourself until I’m out of the car please, I’m begging you,” Robin moans from her totally horizontal position in the backseat, eyes glaring at you. 

Your frown is amusing, like a kid told they can’t have their cookie until after they eat their vegetables and you pout. Your fingers trail back to Steve’s on your thigh as he orders for you all at the drive thru. Perking up as you tug on his sleeve. ���Stevie, don’t forget-”

“Oh, can I get extra sweet and sour please?”

Your smile is brighter than the neon light from the yellow arches illuminating the car and he knows he really is a goner after you do a little dance in the seat as the fries and nuggets hit your lips. Peeking up at him as you sip your shake, wiping your lips before asking, “What?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, you’re just really cute.”

You duck your head down and hide your smile in your last nugget as Robin sighs around her fries. She leans forward as Steve pulls up to the curb outside of her place and wraps her arms around you from behind and squeezes, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” 

You start to turn, “What are you talking about, I’m staying the-”

Robin kisses your temple and starts to get out, “No you’re not. Have a good night lovebirds!” She calls loudly, saluting with fries in her hand before entering her apartment building. 

Snow that’s turned to rain fully and hitting the roof of the car mingles with the music playing softly and you smile at him. Voice suddenly shy and quiet as you ask, “Your place?”

Steve can't get you home fast enough. You’re all cherries and chocolate ice cream and salt - stolen kisses at every stop sign. Giggling as he tells you that you gotta stop or he’s gonna get a ticket, placating you with more fries and asking about your night. 

He’s driving himself a little crazy as he finally pulls to a stop in front of his place, fingers gathering yours and pulling you out of the car and up the front steps. Steve wants to let your hands wander, to keep that smile on your face, but he can see the food turned your tipsiness to sleep and it tugs on you, making your limbs heavier and your eyelids flutter more. He knows that as soon as your head hits the pillow, you’re going to be out. The responsible thing to do is to get you to bed. 

As the door closes, you lean in to kiss Steve like you’ve been wanting to all night. Desperate to disappear into each other without the impatient and annoyed eyes of Robin next to you any longer. Fingers tugging at the strings of his hoodie, pulling Steve’s body against yours. Your lips attach to his with no intent of ever letting them go. 

“Missed you,” a breathless pant against his lips as you continue your assault on them, hands sliding into his hair and scratching at his scalp. Smiling around his lips as he groans at the feeling, his hands landing on either side of your head to catch himself. 

Pulling away despite your whine of protest, he kisses your neck, nibbling a little before pressing more kisses into your skin. Your back arches and he sighs, this is definitely going to be harder than he anticipated. Words lost in your skin between kisses up and down your neck, “Missed you too.”

Steve can’t believe the words he’s about to say, especially when you’re looking at him like that. Kiss swollen lip tucked between your teeth, skin flushed - glitter and sweat kissed, curls of your hair falling loose and framing eyes that seem to be reading his thoughts and hungry with an equal amount of want. 

Steve’s eyes warm, cinnamon and moss melting and climbing over you and you want to let him take every inch, want to tell him it’s all his. The pad of his thumb brushes over your bottom lip as he swallows harshly. He pulls at it, letting it pop out in a pout that he kisses slower and sweeter than before. Steve sighs into your lips as you part further for him, fingers trailing down to his jaw to hold him closer to you. 

His forehead pressed to yours, his words are a breath against your lips, “Come on, time for bed, trouble.”

Is it the alcohol or is it Steve’s lips and words that make everything feel a little off kilter? He makes you dizzy, and giddy and he’s the one who’s trouble because you weren’t supposed to fall this hard for a boy like him. He can’t possibly want a girl like you. 

As your eyes flutter open, he’s pulling at your hands, thumb brushing over your knuckles and leading you down the hallway. Not stopping at the bedroom, but continuing on to the bathroom. Steve hands you your toothbrush, kissing your temple with the promise of a change of clothes. Leaving you to stare at your reflection and wonder why Steve saying ‘time for bed’ and actually meaning to go to sleep has your stomach alive with more butterflies than before. 

Steve cares about you. He’s not trying to sleep with you, he doesn’t care that you woke him up or made him get you McDonald’s at two in the morning. He let you leave and he cleaned up yours and Robin’s mess. Steve cares about you. 

He returns, setting you on the lip of the tub as he rummages in the medicine cabinet. 

“Aha! Found em,” he mumbles, pulling makeup remover wipes down and crouching in front of you. 

Instead of handing you one, Steve gently wipes at your skin whispering something about how you really didn’t need all of this stuff, you know that right? Every word and every pass of his thumb with the cloth over your skin knocks a stone loose in your resolve. A paper thin wall between your heart and his now. It aches, your heart pounds loudly in your chest, filling your ears. Palms sweating, fingertips itching, breath catching like you’re about to take a jump off of a cliff. 

Mouth dry as the words that yearn to come out sit ready on your tongue. Instead, your fingers catch his chin and you kiss him. Chaste and quick, eyebrows raised at him, “Why are you so sweet to me? What d’ya like me or something Steve?” 

Steve tosses the wipe covered in makeup, kissing your wrist before tugging at the same hand and pulling you up to stand. Heart hammering, denting and breaking the armor he keeps around it. He could say it. He wants to say it. 

But he doesn’t. 

He lifts your arms and you giggle as he pulls your shirt from you and slips one of his own over your head instead. Kissing each of your cheeks as your jeans drop to the floor and he helps you step out of them. He sighs, catching your jaw like you had just caught his. “Yeah, something like that.”

Rising onto your toes, hands on each side of his face, you whisper through a smile, “How embarrassing. You like me? Do you like really like me like me or-”

Steve presses his lips to yours, arms wrapping around your waist and you sigh, hands falling to rest flat against his chest. His lips move over yours languidly. Lazy and sweet kissing that has you melting into his body. He knows he needs to stop kissing you, that you should go to bed. But he can’t stop, like your lips have a love potion in them and he’s under your spell. 

Steve lifts you, carrying you to the bedroom and your kissing becomes a little sloppy, your smile forcing you to break apart for a breath. He lays you on the bed, arms on either side of your head as he hovers over you. You giggle into his lips as he pesters you with quick kisses over your face, “What’s,” kiss, “So,” kiss, “Funny?”

He nibbles on your bottom lip and pulls away and you’re eager to chase his lips, hands looping around his neck. Laughing into his smile and kiss as you sing, “You like me so much. You want to kiss me, you want to date me, you want to -”

Steve kisses your teasing away again, this time a little more passionately - like he’s trying to say all of the words he wants to with just a kiss. Stealing your breath from you, but then again he can’t really steal something you’re willing to give. 

He pulls away, cradling your jaw and relishing in the dazed look on your face. He whispers into your lips as he kisses you again, “I’m gonna go get you some water, Gracie Lou.”

Smiling to himself down the hall as you finally find your voice and shout, “I knew you liked that movie!”

Steve can’t be gone for more than a minute, but when he returns, your chest rises and falls evenly, puffs of breath leaving your slightly parted lips and your face relaxed. Water to your side of the bed, he lifts the covers and slips you under them, flicking off the lamp and sliding in next to you. 

Half asleep, you roll immediately. Leg slipping and tangling between his, hand on his stomach and cheek pressed to his chest. Steve lets his fingers glide over your spine, gently rubbing back and forth until his own eyes start to flutter closed. He’s going to tell you in the morning. He’ll make breakfast and coffee and he’ll finally tell you-

“I love you.”

It’s a breath against his skin, the words making goosebumps rise on it and his stomach flip. He feels you shift, your breathing heavy and your eyes still closed as far as he can tell. 

“What?” he whispers to you and you don’t respond. Raising his head to peek at you, making sure you really are asleep, daring to ask again, “Baby,” he licks his lips, fingers sweating, “What did you just say?”

Nothing but a soft snore comes from you and Steve smiles so wide his cheeks hurt. He pulls you closer, practically on top of him and kisses your temple. 

You love him. Arms wrapping around you tightly, he decides he’ll never tell you that you said it because he was going to be first. 

Steve Harrington is in love with you too. 

[disorganizedkitten]

you moderate two servers??? immense responsibility. i am not a hp writer, unfortunately, but this fest stuff sounds fun enough that i might switch fandoms. i have heard about events like this before, but they're usually on tumblr and i get camerashy (if you couldn't tell by me using anon)

I actually moderate THREE but the last one is the Nino Lahiffe Appreciation Server that's about a decade old and doesn't actually need me to do much. We have like five active people who show up to talk about soup every two months and then run Ninovember in the fall. it's great

The Grimoire and the Hoard are way more active and I show up a lot more in them.

Yeah, fic fests are insanely fun, I definitely recommend joining some - they happen in just about every fandom, the tricky part is finding them. Like, Danny Phantom has Fic Fight and Invisobang every year, Miraculous Ladybug is known for having events almost every month, etc, though yeah, those are pretty-tumblr heavy.

If you're camera-shy, what I'd actually advise is to make a sideblog for it, and then it can just be your little fic-writing secret identity.

If you want to dive into Harry Potter then I definitely won't stop you and I think the servers' recommendation channels are top tier, but if you want to stay in the fandoms you're currently in and still join a fest, the Flower one is multifandom.

And! On neither of those discords are you required to connect your Discord Profile to your Ao3 profile. So if you wanna just lurk, and pretend you didn't write your own fics, you can. I did that for the first... month? In the Hoard? And then someone really liked my fic and I got significantly less self-concious.

The fests also happen on anon! The first wave of readers and commenters read fics with no clue who wrote them, and only learn afterwards.

There is also This List Of Fandom Events which does not have everything but does have a lot!

[mysterycitrus]

This may be nothing, or a dumb thought, but I'm curious as your thoughts on Dick (despite being with Bruce for most of life) keeping the name Grayson as an homage to his parents and where he came from, and what might change for him with that name being a reference to Talon/the prophecy he was bred for instead?

beloved anon im gonna be so expeditiously for real with u right now and say i am the number one court of owls hater. the “gray son” is one of the dumbest retcons ive ever read. william cobb sounds like a frozen food mascot. everything about it on a metatexual level super sucks. tying dicks destiny to a preplanned prophecy by a sewer death cult completely delegitimatises the connection bruce makes that night at the circus — that anyone, rich or poor, can experience profound loss in an unjust system. the only thing i hate more is the joker being the one who killed the waynes. i simply do not see it 😌

anyway wrt the grayson name i like the idea that it was anglicised when they crossed the atlantic and then just stuck that way. dicks position in gotham vs the other wayne kids is thee most isolating and foreign — he’s lost every connection to his life and family, and he’s stuck in an unfamiliar city with a bunch of strangers in a big house on the hill. the same as with robin, it makes sense he’d cling to what he had left. he’d be stuck under a new spotlight, with a different audience, and to keep himself safe he’d hold onto the name grayson, protecting the memory of his parents, with both hands and never let go.

do i think he’d ever take the wayne name? eh, probably not. out of bruces kids (excluding duke for obvious reasons) i think neither dick or jason would ever change their names. if jason hadn’t died? maybe. but not now, and never again. the little dance dick and bruce have been doing round each other for twenty or so years where they are both father and son and best friends and brothers is so difficult to untangle that they don’t even try. bruce has nightmares in canon of being confronted by the graysons for taking their son from them. i imagine that while he’d never say it, whenever bruce hears dick referred to by paps as “richard wayne” there’s some deeply buried, burning pride. but he would never dare to speak it aloud.

[ladytauria]

trick or treat !! 🍊

hello my dear orange anon <3

for you i have a canonverse jaytim fic! this would be early relationship or maybe gen? it's in my jaytim ideas doc though, so most likely shippy haha

the working title is "as you are" and is... more or less tim demonstrating that he accepts jason as he is, with a side helping of telling bruce off <3

A series of murders in the Bowery, Alley, and near the docks seem linked to Jason. Bruce certainly seems convince he did it, despite protesting his innocence. The others doubt, but, well. Jason’s killed before, and even if they may have privately (or overtly) agreed with his past decisions, it makes it hard to look at this and say, objectively, he didn’t do it—despite his claims.

Except for Tim.

He’s late to the Cave, for once—caught up in a meeting or research in the Nest. As soon as realizes what they’re arguing over, he disagrees. Loudly.

“Are you—?” Tim pinches the bridge his nose, then says flatly, “Jason didn’t do it, Bruce.”

Bruce’s lips thin. “You don’t know that, Tim.”

“The same way that you know that he did?” Tim’s tone is scathing. By this point Jason has fallen silent, and the others have dropped the pretense of trying to pretend they aren’t listening. Tim and Bruce have always seemed to get along—with disagreements minor, or behind closed doors. That they’re fighting now, over this… Jason isn’t sure what to think. “You’re ignoring the evidence.”

“I’m... ignoring the evidence.” Bruce’s response is slow, disbelieving.

Tim nods. His fingers fly over the keys. “First, the method of execution is the same across deaths—but none of the victims are connected. Jason only uses the same method when he wants to make a point—but I don’t see what ‘point’ is being made here.

“Second, the disposal. Jason doesn’t hide bodies—usually—it’s true, but he also doesn’t pose them. In most of these, the scene was tampered with. The only exception is number six—looks the murderer was interrupted… which brings me to three.

“Third, Jason has never denied that he killed someone. If someone shows up to a scene, he doesn’t bother leaving unless he’s ready, or unless he has reasons he doesn’t want to be caught up in a long-form confrontation. And then, when you askif he killed someone, he’ll confirm that he did, and then tell you why.

“And that brings me to my most important point: Fourth, Jason kills for a reason. The background checks on these victims reveal criminal backgrounds, yes, but only one of them has done anything that would get them on Jason’s radar—but he hadn’t done it enough times to actually earn his wrath.

“The only way Jason would be involved and not say something is if someone else had done something and he was helping them cover it up, for whatever reasons. And even then I’m vaguely sure that, if covering it up didn’t work, he would just take responsibility, even if it didn’t make sense.” He pauses, staring hard at Bruce before turning to Jason. He asks pleasantly, “Did you do it?”

Jason’s, “No,” is faint; eyes round.

Tim nods once, and flashes him a reassuring smile. It’s the same smile he used to give as Robin—the same smile he picked up from Jason, who had learned it from his mother; using it on her repeatedly during her final days.

Tim turns back to Bruce. “Four pieces of evidence you missed.” He pauses, and then says, “Except I don’t think you did.” His voice sharpens.

Off to the side, Dick’s expression changes. He starts forward—but Alfred stays him. Dick looks at him. He’s not surprised, really—not the way he can feel Steph and Damian (and Jason) are. Alfred rarely ever got in the way of a Tim-and-Bruce fight, never tried mediating it the way he did Dick-and-Bruce fights or Jason-and-Bruce fights.

Tim continues, heedless of what’s going on in the background. “You ignored it. Jason being alive, working with us, showing up outside of casework—all of that’s too good to be true to you, isn’t it? You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, and the longer it doesn’t, the more paranoid you get. You can’t let him in, but now you’re just keeping your distance, you’re pushing him away. Except you can’t push too hard without looking and feeling like an asshole. You need a reason—and now you’ve got one, and that matters more to you than the actual evidence.” Tim crosses his arms. “Self-destruction has never been a good look on you, B.”

Bruce says nothing.

Tim nods. Pivots on his heel and snags Jason’s arm. “C’mon,” he says.

Jason starts—but finds himself turning and following anyway; almost disappointed when Tim lets him go. “Where?”

“The Nest. I’ve got some cases I’d like you to look over.”

“What about—“

“They can solve it.”

As they climb on their bikes they hear, faintly, Alfred’s voice—

“Master Bruce, I think you ought to retire for the night. Perhaps… take some time to think. I’m sure the others can handle things in your absence?”

Then Dick— “Oh, um. Yeah. Yeah, we’ve got this. Steph and I have been going over some alternate suspects, and Damian’s been running background on one we think is… really promising. And I don’t mind picking up your patrol with Robin for tonight.”

[daisyswift3]

KAYLORS I JUST DECIPHERED THE PR MESSAGES FROM PRESENT 🎁 ANON AND AM NOW VERY CERTAIN THEY’RE LEGIT TOO. So we started receiving these very interesting anon messages exactly 2 months before the release of TTPD (release was 4/19)

We were told to keep our eyes peeled for a present or gift we would be receiving and well we got it

There are P's and R's repeated in the messages. "The hint is in the words." P = PETER. R = ROBIN. Those songs are a gift to us kaylors. They're separated by just one song, the Bolter (which I'm 99% sure is related to the 8th 🎃 message bc Taylor almost drowns and a bolter is a coward which was the main point of the message); and Taylor mentions CPR in So Long, London which means they're all related. Bc Cassandra = Taylor, Peter = her second kid, Robin, = her first kid. They're related bc they're a family. I think it's possible those are the actual names of her two kids

"This is not the manuscript" i.e. the manuscript (closing track) is not the gift, it's the songs right before it! Robin is the 2nd to last song, Peter the 4th to last, and Cassandra the 5th to last. "It has been hidden well, look where the above may find you." They can be found in the track titles themselves. "Plausible deniability. Think of the one we continue to revisit"--K and T have plausible deniability since everyone thinks those are JK's kids. BUT "the volcano will soon rupture, whoever is to defame" which means that one day all the truth will come spilling out regardless of the defamation that will happen. "Restful, reticent, restraint. And PUBLISH!"--perhaps a tell-all memoir??

"The predecessor was the crumb" in other words peace "I'd give you my wild, give you a child" (see this post) was just a faint hint but now she's getting really close to revealing everything which is what the volcano 🌋 represents! THE DANDELIONS IN THE ROBIN LYRIC VID. Robin is the single dandelion floret (secret) she was so worried abt sending into someone else’s yard in the 7th 🎃 message (see this post). She was afraid that sending this song out into the world could expose the truth she’s worked so hard to protect before she’s ready but she did it anyway. “Once you blow a dandelion, you never get it back. It isn’t yours anymore.” “But the story isn’t mine anymore.” 🎃 mentions how the recipient of the dandelion would also blow and spread the florets which might mean kaylors would catch on and spread the secret. The 8th message also mentions a dandelion that the enemy has and spreads but I’m not yet sure who this person is—also this person could be the “recipient” and not kaylors but I’m not sure. And I’m not sure if this means they’d like us to kinda keep this to ourselves and not use Robin as a gotcha since it’s meant to be more of a seed planted for future use (no pun intended). But it definitely seems like they aren’t ready to reveal everything just yet

"As the neighbor holds the lamp to witness her Goodbye" = "Now you're in my backyard turned into good neighbors" and "But the woman who sits by the window has turned out the light"

"Reach those lanterns a little bit higher for you shall receive a metaphor so dire"--a jack-o-lantern like pumpkin anon? These metaphorical messages will help us to understand K and T's entire complicated situation?

"When I cannot see words curling like rings of smoke round me"--"breath of fresh air through smoke rings." Haven't quite figured out what this part means yet but it reminds me of blowing smoke which means to deliberately confuse or deceive (lavender haze mv)

This is as far as I've gotten w decoding the messages. This all adds a lot of context to those 🎃 messages and makes them a little more clear. There’s definitely more clues in there we have yet to decipher so pls share your thoughts

[spirit-lanterns]

To think an emotionless face bunny reader. That WOULD never be me 😔 as much i have to admit, i’m those people who have their face full of emotions so these kind of gambling when our emotions get the best of us, I would’ve FOLDED instantly.

Of course i like a game of gambling (of sex) so internally, i accept it thinking i would be slick and won it but noo..

If we started we took kafka? A rough start. Cock warming her would be a squirming road. Like i can try to put up a poker face but my body says it all. You know what they say when body gives out the languages 😔lazily yet suddenly bucking her hips as her cock felt so good in our gummy wall instantly make our breath heavier. Like she would be smirking even if she start to mark our neck as we gripped the gambling table to ground ourselves

If not more rough journey, black swan. The most kinkiest woman is an understatement to say the least. She would eventually grab the vibratior and put it up against our clothed cunt as the bunny suit is very shiny and even smooth much to our unfortunate luck (or fortunate luck)

Someone finish this fic I can’t think more than black swan and kafka fucking my brain

I’d gladly finish this fic for you, anon 💕

Imagine Topaz trying to get you to make a noise or change expressions by bending you over her lap and spanking you. She does it in front of all the other women too, trying to get you to whimper or yelp with her hand striking against your ass, but you’re determined to hold out and keep your face calm. No matter how painful (and pleasurable) Topaz’s hand may feel on your rear.

After Topaz, Acheron would attempt to get you to moan, by fondling with your tits and roughly fingering your pussy with her long, calloused fingers. The pace she sets herself with you is rough and extremely overbearing, but even when Acheron is knuckles deep inside of you, you still keep a poker face on and refuse to let even a peep leave your lips during her round of the gamble…

Lastly, Robin would be the one to try and get you to break face, by sitting you up against the table and eating you out with her skilled tongue. The wings on her head are tickling your thighs, as she hopes to get you to whine when her tongue sinks far into your cunt to taste all that you could offer. Though it was a close bet, not even Robin could get you to break your poker face, and soon you find yourself winning against all five women in the roo—

Oh? Wait a minute! We forgot Himeko! Himeko the experienced and mature woman that she is, finally managing to crumble you to nothing as she makes you sit on her lap and take her experienced fingers up your cunt. As embarrassing as it was to admit, you somehow broke down at the feeling of Himeko’s simple fingering, as she was so skilled enough, that just the feeling of her filling you up from the inside was enough for you to let out the loudest whine any of the women had ever heard from you.

…Yeah, it’s safe to say Himeko won this gamble. She got the money it seems (and you) for the night, causing everyone to seethe with jealous stares 💕