#THERE ARE SO MANY DUCK HEROES

[michimonie]

The painted Duck Heroes so far. If anyone has any requests or suggestions that aren't painted here or listed below, please let me know. I am by no means an expert on ducks (especially Disney Ducks, since I just got into this fandom like a year ago).

Current Duck Heroes on my list to be painted: Red Bat Red Bat (Ultraheroes) Masked Tophat Masked Tophat (Ultraheroes) Super Daisy (Ultraheroes) Superduck / Duck Avenger/ Paperinik (Ultraheroes) Cloverleaf (Ultraheroes) Whoever the guy is that Duck Avenger got his gear from (Fantomallard, I think?) Dolly Paprika Maybe Stegmutt (he used to be a duck)???

Edit: There's a Donald Red Bat??

[mango-sideburns]

My fav thing about TAZ is that any aspect out of context sounds fucking bonkers.

Like, in the balance finale there's a scene in which Garfield (who is very specifically never described visually bc most people imagine him as like. The Lasagna Cat. Who in this universe is the most powerful warlock in the realm and also has a hobby of cloning people, which is great for the one character that got forced into haunting a mannequin) is summoned by an alien spaceship that runs on the power of friendship so he could beat up some flashing balls. In D&D.

And that was just. Such a normal scene in the narrative. No one blinked an eye. I would like to bow down to Griffins clear unmatched talent for making me feel such big emotions over ridiculous shit like a goddamned umbrella or a regular ass pair of jeans or the idea of a taco recipe.

[that-rackin-frackin-varmint]

Looney Tunes: Back in Action: - Removed Content

this part kills me.

Kate "We'll replace Daffy with a hot girl"

Bugs "I wouldn't want to hurt a girl"

Kate "Ok but we'll make you guys enemies-to-lovers"

Bugs (completely skipping the insinuation of romancing the girl) "Usually I'm the girl in the relationship"

[wanderingmind867]

If it's not robots, I relate to aliens. Martian Manhunter and The Silver Surfer stick out as two perfect examples. They're not from Earth, but they're stuck here. They're lonely, troubled souls who just want to live with us peacefully. But can mankind accept strange aliens? Usually, that answer appears to be no. Why do you think The Silver Surfer is always alone in the upper atmosphere? It's because he can't leave for space, and he can't live with us. He's all alone. Why does J'onn J'onzz disguise himself as a human? Because trying to live as a Martian would lead to people judging him and calling him a freak. He usually even shapeshifts his Martian form to more resemble a basic earth humanoid, all so he can fit in. Because just like The Surfer, he knows mankind is cruel, and would never willingly accept him.

But besides aliens and robots, I just relate to the lonely, existential misfits. Doctor Strange (a man so lonely he only has a small handful of friends, and who almost never leaves his Sanctum), The Hulk (a being hounded just for being different), Howard the Duck (a talking duck who never even fit in on his original world, because he couldn't work by society's screwed up standards), the Doom Patrol (a whole team of lonely misfits and societal rejects), the Phantom Stranger (a man who seems cursed to wander earth alone for all time, even when he wants so desperately to just settle down), Namor (a temperamental king who seems incapable of fully belonging anywhere), Cyclops of the X-Men (lonely, studious, unable to fit in even amongst his peers, cyclops is the best x-man and i won't hear a word otherwise).

[valewritessss]

In honor of my period coming two fucking days early, here’s a menstruation based pjo question.

Who do we think has the worst cramps vs who do we think is one of those lucky ducks who have minimal bleeding and little to no cramps?

[deviousdiesel]

.

[wonderjanga]

Ho is u Dracula?

There is a running theory among many heroes that Marvel is a vampire. There are multiple reasons, but here are just some.

Marvel: *sitting on the ground and letting Mary do his makeup*

Flash: “Hey, Cap- whoa.” *stares like a solid 50 seconds because Mary’s makeup skills are really not that good*

Marvel: “Hey.” *sees his staring* “Is something wrong?”

Flash: “Dude, what is going on with your face?”

Marvel: “Mary is doing my make up.”

Flash: *thinks it’s cute they’re doing daddy-daughter stuff* “She clearly isn’t doing a good job at it- look!” *zooms away to grab a mirror and comes back*

Marvel: *doesn’t have a reflection* “Uh… Flash? I can’t see myself.”

Flash: “Wha? What do you mean?” *crouches down next to him and turns the mirror, so both of them can be seen in it*

Marvel: *still no reflection*

Flash: “That’s so freaky…” *literally has his hand on Marvel’s face and looking at the mirror and seeing his hand touch air*

Marvel is made of magic. He can appear to humans and living things as the Cap. They can even touch him and stuff, but he’s not visible to nonliving things which includes mirrors because they’re inanimate objects. Fun fact: zombies only see a hazy version of him because they’re undead.

or

Marvel: *minding his business, standing in the sun*

Robin!Tim: *hiding behind him because he wants a shield from the sun* “Captain?”

Marvel: “Yeah?”

Robin!Tim: “Why don’t you have a shadow?”

Marvel: “What do you mean?”

Robin!Tim: “I mean, you don’t have a shadow. I’m standing right behind you, and you’re blocking the sun for me, yet I’m not in your shadow. There’s actually no shadow in sight.”

Marvel: “Oh uh… I don’t know to be honest.”

Robin!Tim: “How do you just not know?”

Marvel: “I mean, I just don’t know. It’s one of life’s greatest mysteries.”

or

Marvel: *fighting a villain and tries to lean over to take a nice chunk out of their neck with his teeth*

Villain: “Oh my GOD?!?!?” *ducks away at the last second*

Batman: *watching this with a mini Batdrone* “Hmm…” *rubs chin*

or

Flash: *walks into one of the rec room rooms*

GL and Marvel: *greets him with Hal running after Marvel with some garlic while the Captain runs away*

Marvel: “Please!”

GL: “Never! We’re gonna get over this fear of garlic now!

Billy had a nightmare about garlic and… yeah. Hal decided to take things into his own hands when he saw the Captain flinch at a vegetable? A spice? What is garlic? Anyways, Barry joined in because why not?

[cherrysweets-world]

Eyes of the Gods I

masterlist - part II

Pairing: Caracalla x femaleReader, Geta x femaleReader

Summary: You catch the eyes of the twin Emperors despite doing everything possible to stay out of their way.

Warnings: mentions of blood

Word Count: 2k

The air was unusually cool and still. Perhaps you should have recognized then that things would soon be different, that the Gods themselves were waiting with baited breath. They intended to be entertained.

Palatine Hill was not always so quiet, not even in the evenings. Servants, such as yourself, were kept busy with cleaning and cooking and entertaining nobles. Tonight was different, though, and you gripped the water jug tightly as you padded along the empty halls.

Your duties typically kept you in the kitchen, preparing food and keeping it tidy. A recent bought of sickness has travelled around the servants' quarters and pushed you to take up duties you usually wouldn't. Duties that forced you to emerge from the places overlooked by many and into the eyes of dangerous people.

The jug was damp under your hands, condensation trickling from the outside and moistening your hands. You suspected it was also sweat. The halls of the imperial palace were not welcoming and you wanted nothing more than to duck back out of sight. The gentle cloak of night was just that - gentle. You yearned for something heavier, thicker, that would guarantee safe passage back to your quarters.

Unfortunately the sickness had seeped from the servants and into several of the nobles. Lady Lucilla herself had come down with it and you had been tasked with taking her medicine-infused water to her personal quarters. Into the lion's den, so to speak.

It was not Lady Lucilla that you were afraid of. There were others with rooms not so far from hers. You had heard things- orgys lasting well into the morning, participants emerging bruised and occasionally bloody. Stories of an unstable Emperor and a controlling one. Rome was not safe right now, perhaps the palace was more dangerous than the streets.

Andrea spotted you and waved you from the shadows. "I have been waiting!" she hissed. She had no patience for your shy nature. "Are you forgetting that my Lady is sick?"

"Of course not," you replied evenly, passing over the jug.

Andrea took it and peered into it. Satisfied, she nodded and slipped back into the room, pushing the heavy door shut behind her.

You sighed. It was too much to expect a thank you. Swiveling on your heel, you began the journey back to your quarters. Without the burden of the jug you quickened, the bottom of your dress creating a pleasant breeze around your ankles.

This area of the palace was far better decorated than where you typically roamed. Grand busts lined along the wall, elegant traces of gold defining grooves and patterns. Marble that gleamed enough that you could see your own harried reflection in it. Although you wished to stop and take it in, it was more of a reminder of exactly where you were and how you did not belong.

You were so occupied with your own thoughts that you almost missed it at first. Slowing as much as you dared, you tilted your head and listened. A tiny, almost discernable squeaking noise. It came from your left side, beneath the table.

Fists tightening, you took a slow step towards it. A stunningly beautiful cloth was draped artfully over it, so you could see nothing. The noise came again and your heart jumped. What if it was a child? You would be in trouble if you did not return them safely to wherever they belonged, servant or otherwise. And what if one of the Emperors or Macrinus stumbled upon them? It did not bear thinking about.

You cast one last hopeful look around. There was no hero offering themselves up to raise the cloth. It would have to be you. You got to your knees and held your hand in front of the tablecloth. There was a stark difference between the expensive, soft fabric of the cloth and your servants hands.

You couldn't stand to wait a single moment longer out in the open like this. Grabbing a fistful of the fabric, you raised it in a jerky motion.

Breath rushed out of you in a pathetic wheeze. The monkey - of course, the damned monkey - worse still, she was accompanied by her master.

Emperor Caracalla gazed up at you with watery, red rimmed eyes. His hair was disheveled, as though he had tried to sleep and had been yanked from it. He did not seem surprised to see you. Before you could utter an apology, he had secured a hand around your wrist and yanked you under the table alongside him.

Your forehead grazed painful against the underside of the table and you curled in on yourself to avoid it. Still, Emperor Caracalla said nothing. Your heart felt seconds away from clawing its way up your throat and you found yourself thinking of something your mother had said to you once long ago. Fear would only make it worse.

"Emperor Caracalla," you whispered, "is there someone I can get for yo-"

"No!" the word burst out of him, startling you with its ferocity. "No, there are only traitors and wicked liars, thieves who wish to steal my empire from under me."

His hand had left a bloody smear on your wrist. His own were splattered with it too, and you tried hard not to think of all the rumors. Tried hard not to think of where the blood had likely come from.

His thighs were warm beneath you. Only the thin fabric of your dress kept you from actually touching. How had you gone from hardly setting eyes upon the Emperors to this?

Panic began to creep further up your spine. You had only heard things about the moods that sometimes overtook Caracalla and even then they were littered with half-truths and exaggerations. You had never been able to make sense of them, and crouching before him now made it no easier.

"Perhaps," you relinquished, "but tonight is silent, my Emperor. There are no traitors, or liars or thieves tonight. I have walked these halls myself, I have seen no one. It is safe."

Caracalla eyed you with an alarming amount of awareness. You continued, "No-one except you, Dondus, and I."

The monkey chirped again and ran her fingers through her masters hair, as if that was what she had been trying to tell him. She reached her other hand out for you and you warily held out your fingers. Did monkeys have sharp teeth?

If they did, Dondus kept them at bay. She sniffled your fingers and then released them, seemingly satisfied. Whatever satisfied her seemed to also satisfy her master.

"What is your name?" he asked. You gave it, you had no choice. He murmured it to himself, let it roll around his mouth and settle in his throat.

"Perhaps you would like to return to your quarters now, my Emperor," you asked. "I'll escort you there myself. If we come across anyone then we shall be together and I am quite sure they shall not bother us."

Realistically you had no idea if anyone would bother you or not. You were more than ready to come out from beneath the table, though, and put safe distance between you and the unsteady Emperor.

His eyes seemed steadier now, and there was a faint blush on his cheeks. Perhaps this was a sign that he was returning to himself. Whether that was a good thing, you could not say.

"My chambers," he whispered, voice cracking. "Yes, you will accompany me to my chambers."

It took a moment to untangle yourself from under the table. You emerged first and held out a hand to steady Caracalla. Dondus leapt upon your offered hand and curled herself upon your shoulder. Her fur was softer than expected and you gave a surprise laugh, the sound echoing around the halls.

Caracalla's eyes were fixated on you, and so you allowed him and small smile before turning in the direction of his chambers. The attention was almost too much. The handful of occasions that you had been in the presence of the Emperors were entirely different from this. Surrounded by food, prostitutes, servants and fellow nobles, they had no time to pay attention to anyone specifically. And now…

Caracalla's arm brushed yours and you jerked away, hardly daring to look at him. Something like a laugh came from him and he did it again. This time you remained still and tried to give no reaction. It had the opposite effect. Caracalla shuffled closer until there was no room between your side and his. Dondus slipped back onto his shoulder and you tried to keep your eyes forward.

He said your name again to himself. You wished he would not. It felt as though every time he said it, he was cementing you further in his mind. You hoped that tonight would be nothing but a smear in his memory, hazed by the grip of his sickness.

When you caught sight of the doors to his chambers, it was a great effort not to heave a sigh of relief.

"We are here," you gave a shaky smile, "no traitors or any such thing. You are safe, Emperor Caracalla."

He regarded you with blurry eyes, but did not disagree. You pulled open the door and angled yourself to allow him in. He slipped by you, close, too close, and it was a fight not to let the door slam. You caught a brief look inside the luxury of his room and the several guards that regarded you with surprise and relief.

Caracalla had a habit of slipping his guards. His brother had made it a point to allow it, you had heard. As if to say that they were not afraid of any intruders in their home, such was their might. Surely if it had been someone else, the hallways would have been filled with Praetorians and it would not have been such a still night.

He opened his mouth as if to say something, eyes flickering over your figure. His eyes seemed less cloudy by the second and you did not want to stand in front of a fully aware Emperor Caracalla.

You thought again of the blood and the words rushed out, "I bid you goodnight, my Emperor. Sleep well."

You let go of the door before he could say anything. It was foolish, and for a moment you expected him to come rushing out, hands clawing at your face for your blatant disrespect. But the halls remained quiet, and you breathed out for the first time in what felt like an eternity.

The blood had dried on your wrist, flaky and dark. You inspected it with a grimace before tucking it at your side and walking back down the corridor. If it wasn't for the physical evidence, no part of that night would have felt real. Hopefully you would be able to banish it entirely from your mind by tomorrow, and do your best to stick to your familiar grounds in the palace.

As you walked, you saw a flash of red from the corner of your eye. You turned, expecting Caracalla to be standing outside his door and prepared yourself.

Emperor Geta watched you from the very spot you had just been in. Your already dry mouth felt drier. He tilted his head, watching you curiously, arms folded in front of him.

He looked young. Rich, red cloths rumpled from sleep, hair smoothed down and face bare. Beautiful, like his brother, but deadly. His eyes were dark and steady, opposite to his brother, but equally as unsettling.

An expression flickered in the corner of his mouth and it prompted you to dip your head and curtsey.

"Excuse me, Emperor Geta," you said, eyes fixed firmly on the floor. "Good night."

There was a weighted pause. For a moment you did not think he would say anything.

And then, "Goodnight."

You rushed around the corner and dove into the shadowy hallways, grateful to get yourself out of sight. It would be a long, long time before you took up any of your friend's tasks for them again. It was not worth it.

_________________________________

Author's Note - I have not written fanfiction in years but I had to emerge from my cave for these two. I'm pretty rusty so please excuse any mistakes! Like & reblog if you enjoyed :)

[kroosluvr]

vending machine coffee

hi guys i did not move for 7 hrs until i finished this HELP MEEEEE (From the lineart+colors stage btw.... it basically took 7 hrs for rendering LKDSKJADKSAHD)

this is technically long winter au (royal trio r trapped together for longer than like 10 minutes) and this is.. i guess.. like a week in? to maruki's actualization. so theyre all very antsy and anxious (and sumire and goro havent reaaaalllyyy had many heart-to-hearts yet)

ANYWAY do u think abt the horror of being slam dunked into an ""ideal reality"" and not knowing what's real and what's fake and Most horrifically. getting used to the fake part

i like to think in long winter au they band together super close bc theyre tbh frightened of this reality, don't know wtf could happen if maruki could do This then he could do Anything right. so they walk all together like ducks in a line LMAOOO

akira feels disheartened at akechi's joke in page 1 - like yeah shit ur right. what's real and what's not. sumire distracts them by buying coffee

akira covers akechi's mouth bc he thinks hes gonna say some dumb shit (he wasn't)

(also for the record sumire hands the first coffee to goro and then the 2nd to akira then akira picks the last one up for her)

THE WAY AKIRA SMILES AT SUMIRE IM GONNA JUUUUUUUUUMP (i forgot to draw his bag strap there. fml. whatever)

woah the posters on the wall thats crazayyy is that the detective prince, the phantom thieves, and kasumi yoshizawa (tm)???? woahhhhh smile

akira grimaces at akechi's ""advice"" bc he Knows how real it is. He knows how haunted goro is by 1) his mother's death. 2) his murders. 3) the death of his Child self and his dreams of being a "hero of justice." sumire obviously doesn't know all this baggage so she just takes it at face-value like "yeah ur right senpai now that i think abt it!" but it really weighs heavily on akira and goro realizes that in the last page. so hes like. shit. well. ermmm. awkward lets get outta here

i like the colors on the last page eheh

ok time for me to eat something im feel like im dying.

[thevoidstaredback]

Barry knew something was wrong when he woke up that morning, but he couldn't place what. There was nothing wrong in the house, nor with his family. His team were as normal as they could be, and none of his rogues had gotten out, nor was anyone causing any trouble in Central City. Then, just as he'd gotten off work at the police station, an emergency meeting for the Justice League was called. Ugh, David's gonna be pissed that he has to call out again!

The Watchtower, when he got there, was a mess. Heroes were obviously panicking, and there must be magic users on board because there were things flying every which way. The meeting room, however, was somehow worse.

"What the hell is going on?" The Flash demanded after ducking behind a chair.

"Constantine and Deadman are on a warpath!" Aquaman helpfully supplied from where he was hidden behind his own chair.

"I gathered that much," Flash shouted over the noise of a chair being shattered against the wall behind him.

Aquaman scowled at him. "The hell do you want me to say? I don't know what's got them so upset!

The door opened again, announcing Batman's presence. He cleared his throat and the room instantly fell silent. Things kept flying around, but they were much more lax than they had been. Cautiously, the gathered heroes emerged from their makeshift hiding places to sit in their chairs.

"What's this about, Constantine?" the Dark Knight asked once everyone was seated.

Instead of the Brit, the ghost beside him was the one to answer. "You idiots-" he growled, "-have really fucked up this time!" he shouted.

Flash idly noticed that only the heroes operating in America were present. Huh. He had a dream just like this last night!

Or was it the night before?

"Slow down," Wonder Woman said. The Flash quietly joined her for her next line, "What's going on?"

The Flash continued to speak with Constantine, his voice quiet and simultaneous with the magic user's, "The US Government are more aware than any of us-" Flash's voice got louder as he spoke with the occultist. Aquaman side-eyed him. "-are comfortable with. The fact that they hid it 'til now is baffling."

"Flash?" Aquaman muttered to him, "Are you okay?"

Flash shook his head and continued speaking in tandem with Deadman, his eyes going wide. "It's been brought to my attention that your government has been targeting my people." The ghost was now looking at Flash, too.

Flash finished for him, "They've taken a child."

Ulike his dream, the room was silent. Everyone's eyes were on The Flash.

"Flash?" Superman asked, "What's going on?"

"Time Loop."

Several tense seconds that Flash knew they couldn't afford to waste passed. Batman said, "Time loop?"

Flash nodded. "Time Loop."

"What do you know?" Wonder Woman asked.

"The government took a child. We need to get to Amity Park, Illinois and get a handle on the-" he looked to Deadman, "-ghosts?" When Deadman nodded, he continued, "Ghosts and see if we can get any information out of them."

Zatanna entered the room then, just as Barry remembered she would, turning the projector on and joining Constantine and Deadman at the front of the room. She didn't start speaking, though. Instead, it was Constantine.

"Phantom's a small time hero in Amity Park. For a while, he was the only thing standing between an interdimensional war." He looked The Flash in the eye, "How many loops is this?"

If Zatanna was surprised about the whole time loop revelation, she hid it well.

Flash shook his head. "Two, I think."

Batman took over the conversation from there, Robin at his side, probably communicating with his own team. "Flash and Superman, you need to check everywhere for Phantom; keep your comms on and open. Zatanna, Constantine, and Deadman, I want all the information you have yesterday. Everyone else, set up a perimeter ten miles out from Amity Park-"

Deadman froze, just as Barry knew he would, and disappeared. Zatanna's and Constantine's phones both started ringing. Then, the alarm started to blare.

"Robin," Batman continued through the noise of the heroes jumping into action, "What do you have for me?"

"Amity Park, Illinois," the young vigilante stated, reading the information off of his wrist computer's holo-screen and relaying it as quickly and coherently as he could, "It boasts to be the most haunted place in America. It's a hot spot for ghost hunters, though other supernatural 'experts' frequent there. Other than that, there's a firewall completely blocking off information coming out of the town. I don't think it's a stretch to say that there's limited, or at least filtered, information going into the town."

"Hm." Batman tapped his comm, "Cyborg, get me all the information about this town as you can."

"Got it."

"Robin,"

"On it, B."

"Hn."

***

Barbra was having a pretty normal day. She'd had a pretty good day at school, finished all her homework, and had even gotten to spend some time with her dad! Then, just as she was ready to go out as Batgirl, Batman called her.

Normally, Batman calling her isn't a cause for alarm. However, she knew for a fact that he was with the Justice League today. It was why she was getting ready to go out so early!

Ghosts, as it turns out, are elusive. Whether it's purposeful or not, it doesn't matter. What does matter is why the hell Batman, who hates dealing with anything supernatural, needs her to find information on ghosts of all beings!

She really wants to know what goes on in that man's head.

Actually, no, she really doesn't.

"Hey, Dickie," she greeted.

"Hey, Barbie," there was a smile in his voice, "What's up?"

Right the the chase. "B's acting weird."

A goran. "What'd he do this time?"

The hostility when talking about Bruce was not lost to her. "He's got me looking into ghosts. Any idea why?"

"Ghosts? He's with the JL today. Wally said there was an emergency meeting called about an hour ago."

"That's what I thought! But he just called and has me looking into ghosts. You think there's a correlation there?"

A sigh. "Most likely. Why doesn't he just ask the JLD? You've got more important things to be doing than doing research for him."

"Aw," she cooed exaggeratedly, "You do care!" She could practically hear his eyes rolling on the other end of the line. "Anyay, while I've got you here, are you gonna be coming to Gotham any time soon? I haven't seen you in a while."

Dick was quiet for a moment, the small chime of an incoming call making him groan in frustration. "Probably a lot sooner than I would like."

"Oh?"

"Bruce's calling. I'll let ya know what he says."

"Got it. Good luck, D."

"I'll need it." he scoffed, hanging up.

What a mess.

Part 6 Part 8

[fipindustries]

I think one thing that is so interesting about the penguin show is how it inadvertedly reinforces a theme that we see in the batman movie. Which is that batman is a fucking weirdo.

The movie makes clear time and again how people think batman is a freak and the camera constantly frames him as a creepy guy that is just out of place. Why is this adult walking around dressed like a bat all over crime scenes?

So then the penguin show comes in and we get 8 hours of gritty, realistic, grimy, down to earth criminal violence. Is all so grounded and dirty. The stakes are so realistic, the human drama so immediate and visceral. It feels like batman cannot be part of this world. If the batman were to show up at any point in this story it would feel as out of place as the batman showing up in the wire.

But it also emphasizes how much of an out of context threat the batman is for criminals, how much of a nuclear bomb he is on the criminal proceedings of the city because the fact remains that he could show up at any minute. That is just how he operates, while sofia and salvatore and oz are all running around trying to put their ducks in a row batman could have at any moment burst out from the fucking ceiling, beat the shit out of everyone and ruin everyones month.

Oswald and sofia have to plan so much to try and outsmart each other, they are constantly having to maneuver and pull whatever threads of influence they have. They desperatly improvise and play these elaborate games of chess around each other and their families and the city to get a single inch.

They pay so much attention to what muscle they have, and their money and their conections and their reputation. At any given moment how many people you have around you and their guns and your money are vital to keep track of. The batman doesnt care about any of that. No matter how many goons you hire or how feared you are on the streets, the batman can just come and brute force his way through all of it and leave them upside down tied to a light pole.

With all this in mind going through this show felt like a kind of tragedy, not because of the moral putrefaction of the main character, because ultimatly when you watch a show about the penguin you expect that. It felt like a tragedy because i knew that no matter how hard oz tries, and no matter how clever his plans get, and no matter if he wins in the end and he defeats his enemies and triumphes in conquering the city... the batman is waiting for him at the end of this all. It will all prove to be completly futile, because the fate of the penguin is to get his shit pushed in by the batman.

And i say tragedy, because that is what it felt like as i watched the show. But when i reached the end... well lets just say by the time i reached the end i was begging for the batman to come in, my one biggest consolation from watching this human wasteland of a show is that oswald cobb wont get to enjoy this for long because batman will come as the righteous hero as well as the only force in this city capable of stopping him, and will have him taste the mean end of a batarang.

Truly this show did for the penguin what heath ledger did for the joker

[michimonie]

Hold on, Brigitta MacBridge has a superhero persona? Does EVERY Disney Duck have a hero alter ego??

Also, Brigittik the Romantic Avenger sounds accurate for what I've seen of her...

[dasturdlydangerousduck]

NOW THATS SOMETHING YOU DONT SEE EVERYDAY!!!

ATTENTION NEGADUCK FANS

The big ham - er, big man is getting his own comic series!

And as for the plot we have thus far - "he’s ready to begin a reign of crime and terror the likes of which St. Canard has never seen — except… dang it, all of the other villains are ripping off his ideas! What’s a criminal mastermind to do when the city’s thick with other criminals, stealing his shine? Why, take his villainy on the road, of course!"

[dontfightmecauseillcry]

A King Protects~ A DP crossover prompt

Wrote originally for an MHA crossover but can be used for other stuff - I apologize I wrote it at 3am, I did edit it in the morning (after waking up)

Over done but I love it. A cult broadcasting the summoning of their god who is a god amongst gods! This is a momentous occasion that the world should witness ofc so they broadcast it. In comes Danny in his Depression Sleep Wear™️ that he hasn’t changed out of in 3 days. “Duck off, I’m dead so let me sleep.” The cult starts with their monologues mean while Danny groans and starts to clean himself off. Summons a toothbrush and toothpaste. Summons a glass of water, rises and spits. The cult starts to trail off when he goes on with his routine. He uses spray deodorant and dry hair shampoo and finally summons and bowl and wash cloth to clean his face. For the last step the cult is completely quiet. When Danny’s done he snaps his fingers and suddenly he’s in his king regalia and looks the part of “The King of the Infinite” instead of a bed rotting teenage boy. 

He looks around and sees that they thankfully didn’t use sacrifices and, from the lack of death in the air, they used their own blood to draw the circle, so hopefully talking will help them calm down and they won’t escalate in the future. He lifts an eyebrow and the cult falls to his feet and starts with their speech again, going on and asking for immortality to forever serve him. Danny: “Ahhh, so that’s what this is about. Look, true and honest immortality is impossible. Even I’m not immortal! I can live to see the birth and death of a universe without skipping through the timeline, more than once, and still not be truly immortal. What your asking for is impossible and a curse you will eventually want me to lift, so not actual immortality if I can lift it. A friend of mine would say, ‘all is as it should be’, so if you don’t naturally become immortal, in your sense of the word, that path is not meant for you. Immortality in MY sense is very different and you're lucky I don’t don’t do malicious compliance for these things.” 

Heros bust into the scene, Danny defends the cultists. He starts saying that no sacrifices were involved and that unless some of the blood wasn’t acquired consensually or one of them had an active arrest warrant they shouldn’t be arrested. “Would you arrest little girls at a sleepover using a Ouiji board?” Heroes say that at the very least they broke into a warehouse and hacked into a broadcasting station

The cultists are arrested for taking over broadcasting channels and squatting at an abandoned warehouse. Danny makes sure the sentencing is fair and is acting like a lawyer for his summoners. This is a Danny who got the anti-ecto acts repealed, made sure it didn’t happen world wide, then went on to study law and politics in preparation to be king. Because the Heroes say what the cultists are being arrested for he finally realized he’s being broadcasted, asked where the camera is and turns to it.

Danny: “People of this world, ‘I am very small, and I have no money (law school was expensive) so you can imagine the stress I’m under’. You probably won’t understand the reference so understand this. Please don’t summon me, and if you have to, do it because you are in true danger. I’m a protector spirit. And Ancients please don’t use live OR DEAD sacrifices in my name.” And with that Danny opens up a portal and leaves but not before telling the officers and pros that he’ll check in on the cult members to see if they receive fair sentences or he’ll match their energy in the afterlife.

And that is how a new religion is created. The broadcast goes viral and alters are made for him. Many heroes [and hero students] pray to him even though Danny can’t receive prayers. King Phantom's summons spreads and just like he asked, he’s only summoned in emergencies. 

~Now on to MHA stuff~

Hosu City being on fire is an emergency. Danny takes care of Stain and the Nomu. This pisses off the HPSC. They look bad and start labeling Phantom as a vigilante. The people (and most Heros) call bs and it just makes them [HPSC] look worse. 

Eventually it comes to the HPSC summoning him to try and arrest him. Danny looks them in the face. Gets a pillow and blanket and starts to sleep in the middle of the air. The HPSC try everything to try and wake him up or move him into a jail cell but they can’t touch him, his blanket or his pillow. Eventually they just build a cage around him. Danny wakes up 24 hours later. Yawns and phases out of the “cage” and heads to the closest gym to take a proper shower this time, invisibly of course. To piss off the HPSC, he drops the invisibility in the middle of a street cameras view and decides to wander around and do some exploring. Que him ending up in a residential area with what looks like expensive houses. This is how he runs into Eri’s rescue mission. He overhears the situation and decides to help out, he doesn’t interfere until he blocks Mirio about to get hit with the quirk erasing bullet. Danny asks how Overhaul could do this to his own daughter. “Wait- did you adopt her?! There’s no blood relation between the two of you! That’s fucked up man. Give me the name of the agency, Ima sue. Your name was Eri right? You’ve been blessed with some form of time manipulation if I’m sensing it correctly. I can practically taste it off of you, I know someone who can help to control it!”

Danny helps save Eri and he helps with her recovery since her quirk doesn’t work on him thanks to the time medallion practically fused to his core. 

Danny asks if the government actually wants to arrest him and if it was just a prank cause he will pull out the diplomatic immunity card considering he IS a king. Eventually, the HPSC gives up, gives him a hero license, and lets him take Eri for lessons with CW, but she’s still in Eraserhead's custody since he’s not old enough. “Have I mentioned I am a father-mother of two?” “Excuse me? I thought you said that you were chronological 17!?” “I am! What does that have to do with anything?” His kids, of course, include a girl who looks like a slightly younger him with just a little too much manic in her eyes and a demon-looking man who is twice the boy's size and built like a tank. Aizawa sees them appear at the lanky boy's side as if the very mention of them was enough to summon them. “I’m not paid enough for what I do.”

[crownofgildedlilies]

snowmen

pairing: s. todoroki x reader summary: Shouto can’t quite understand the point of making snowmen, but he’s still having fun.  wc: 1.3k event masterlist

Dating was hard. 

There was so much to understand about a person, both before and after you committed to them. Fitting a new person into your schedule, balancing old routines while creating new ones. Meshing personalities to create a dynamic that not only worked but thrived. 

Relationships were work. 

But dating Shouto Todoroki meant not only dealing with the typical growing pains of a new relationship, but understanding that he was raised differently than most others. 

At the start of your relationship, when Shouto first began opening up to you about his childhood with Endeavor, it was hard. You could barely reconstruct the idea you had about the long time number two hero with the abusive asshole Shouto told you about. You were so angry on his behalf, and for so long. 

But that anger wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t going to change anything. 

Not to say you no longer despised Endeavor—no, you still refused to even look at him on rare events when you crossed paths when Shouto took you to visit his family. But you turned your hatred for Endeavor into affection for Shouto, and took it upon yourself to make sure he never felt as alone as he did in his childhood. 

And maybe you had another goal of making sure he made up for lost memories, too. 

“Sho, you’re going to be too cold,” You fussed, frowning at your boyfriend as he lingered by the door while you finished dressing for the snow outside. The dorms were surprisingly quiet for a Saturday, but you could only assume that everyone was off preparing for the rapidly encroaching holidays. 

“I believe I’ll be fine,” Shouto quelled your worry with a smile, a little teasing because of course he’d be fine—he could regulate his body temperature with his flames, if needed. Still, you chewed on the inside of your cheek, contemplating any consequences of letting him just use his quirk if he got uncomfortably cold. 

But you didn’t want him to get to the point that he was uncomfortable, at all. 

“C’mere,” You ordered, grabbing his scarf from the surprisingly organized coat closet. Shouto followed your command, stepping closer and ducking his head slightly to allow you to wrap the scarf around his neck carefully. You worked dutifully to make sure he was warm, even going so far as buttoning up his jacket for him. 

Though, that part was hard with fumbling fingers under his always intense stare. It didn’t matter how many months you had been together, he always found a way to make you flustered. 

“Are we all set, now?” He asked, taking his turn to appraise you and make sure that you were dressed appropriately warm. You shook your head quickly, but before he could ask what was missing, you darted forward to kiss him quickly. 

“Now we’re good,” You hummed victoriously, smiling at your sweet boyfriend who always humored your dramatics. Turning towards the door, you slipped your gloved hand in his and led him outside. 

A fresh layer of heavy snow had fallen overnight, and you had been practically jumping with giddiness as you woke up Shouto to beg him to join outside. He had agreed easily, for the low price of your love and affection, which you would have given him regardless. 

“What exactly are we doing out here?” Shouto questioned as you marched the two of you into the snow bank that made up the front yard of Class 1A’s dorm building. 

“Have you ever made a snowman?” You knew better than to assume that he had, especially since his very life until he came to UA was incredibly sheltered. You watched as he shook his head gently, and you couldn’t help but press another kiss to his slowly chilling lips. 

“I’ve seen them before. Fuyumi and Natsuo would make them in the courtyard, but I was forbidden from joining them.” He explained calmly, like it wasn’t a heart wrenching confession. Frowning, you set a gloved hand on his cheek, thumb brushing against the lower edge of his scar. As always, he leaned into your touch. 

“Well, I’m going to fix that.” You assured him, face warming despite the cold as he delicately held your wrist with one hand to press a kiss to the heel of your palm despite the glove keeping him from your skin. The longer you were together, the more comfortable he was in showing affection instead of just returning it. 

“I’m not sure I know where to start.” He confessed, and you smiled teasingly at him before tugging him into a crouch beside you. 

“First, you have to make a snowball. Then we roll it around so it collects more snow until we have the base of the snowman.” You explained, digging your hands into the fresh snow to pack together a decent starting point. Instantly, nostalgia tore through you with all the times you had made a snowman as a child. 

A fresh wave of anger towards Endeavor washed over you as you realized that Shouto didn’t have happy memories like you did. 

“Wouldn’t it just be easier if I used my quirk?” Shouto’s voice dragged you back from the edge of your anger, and the genuine curiosity in his voice made you giggle. For a moment, he looked between you and the snow like he was trying to find the best way of attacking the problem.

“You’re not thinking of the fun.” You assured him, jutting out your hand with the ball of snow meant to be the base. Carefully, Shouto took it from you, and examined it like it was a complex piece of technology. 

“We would still have a snowman.” He reasoned, but you rolled your eyes playfully at his stoicism. 

“It’d be an iceman.” You teased, pressing a kiss to his cheek to soothe the burn of your rejection of his idea. Sometimes, it was hard to tell when he was joking or being serious, but you had a feeling that he was genuinely trying to find the fastest way to accomplish your goal. “It’s better making it the hard way. Besides, don’t you like spending time with me?”

“Of course I do. Why would you think otherwise?” You should have known that he wouldn’t have gotten your teasing. You felt a little guilty, especially as you spotted the frown he wore at your supposed suggestion.

“I’m just joking, Sho,” You assured him, gently squeezing his arm for extra measure. “Start rolling the base, will you? I’ll make the middle part.” 

It went smoothly from there, constructing the snowman and decorating it with random articles of clothing from the both of you. The scarf you had tied diligently around Shouto’s neck before you went outside, the gloves that kept your fingers warm, a hat you had been gifted. The face was made out of stones dug out from near the porch of the dorms and a carrot borrowed from Sato’s rabbit, and though it was a little wobbly, you adored it. 

“I think it looks cute,” You grinned, rubbing your hands together and blowing on them to warm them up as you and Shouto admired your masterpiece. He stood behind you, and without you needing to ask, he wrapped his arms around you and trapped your hands between his. 

“The face looks weird,” Shouto admitted, and you snorted a laugh at his brutal honesty. Nodding, you pressed a kiss against your conjoined hands in silent agreement. You felt his chin tuck over your shoulder and rest there, and you could do nothing but enjoy his close proximity. “I’m glad we did this. Thank you, love.” 

“You’re welcome.” 

He didn’t need to say the words. You would have made a million snowmen with him if he had asked. 

Dating was hard, controlling your anger towards Endeavor was harder. 

But you did it all and more for Shouto.

[estrellami-1]

Growing Young

The BIGGEST of happy birthdays to my spouse @gloomysoup !!! You are an absolute DELIGHT to know and I’m so sorry this is late 😭 I’m in love with you and we are going to run away and be very happy together. ❤️

Eddie wants it put on the record that he didn’t run this time. Well, he did, but it was only to lead the bats away from Dustin, and he cycled more than ran, anyways.

Not that the semantics matter when Dustin’s kneeling beside him and sounds are getting echoey.

Dustin yells for Steve, and Eddie wants to tell him it’s no use, Steve can’t hear, he’s too far away, except here he comes like an action hero, sliding in like it’s third fucking base. Damn Wayne and his sports shows, Eddie’s not supposed to know any of that.

“Hey,” Steve says, clear as a bell in Eddie’s addled brain. “Thought I told you not to be a hero.” He looks off, tells someone to get Dustin out, now, before returning his attention back to Eddie. “You’re gonna make it, y’hear me?”

“Dunno,” Eddie says, gasps for breath. Coughs up blood, if the new wet feeling in his mouth is any indication. “‘M not- not cold, anymore, y’know that’s worse, ‘s okay ‘f I don’t-”

“Shut up,” Steve hisses. “Actually, no, keep talking, stay awake. This is gonna hurt like a bitch but I’ve gotta get you outta here. If you’re gonna throw up, please don’t throw up on me.”

Eddie’s brain is lagging full seconds behind, so by the time Steve’s words process, he’s already being lifted.

He doesn’t throw up, but it’s a close thing. “You’re gonna be okay,” Steve tells him again.

He wakes up from the weirdest dream of his fucking life to his alarm and realizes three things in quick succession.

One: that’s not his alarm. It’s a heart monitor.

Two: he’s in a hospital.

Three: it was not, in fact, a dream.

As he finishes categorizing these things, Steve walks in, doing a double-take when he realizes Eddie’s awake. “Oh, holy shit,” he whispers, freezing for a second before darting back out.

He’s back a minute later with Wayne in tow.

Eddie would like it stricken from the record that he cried like a baby upon seeing Wayne. The record can keep the fact that Wayne cried upon seeing him, though.

“Uncle Wayne,” he whispers. He can’t move his arms enough to wipe his face, so he’s just laying there with tears running down his cheeks, undoubtedly making a terrible face. But Wayne’s an ugly crier, too, so they’re just sitting there, crying, making ugly faces at each other.

They eventually calm down and realize at the same time that Steve’s standing awkwardly by the door. “Sorry,” he says, like any of this is somehow his fault. “I didn’t want to interrupt.”

Wayne pulls himself together, gestures at a seat across from him. “You ain’t interruptin’, son. You saved my boy’s life. Far as I’m concerned, you got any right you want t’be here right now.”

Steve ducks his head. “I didn’t really- I mean, he was just… passed out, the doctors did the saving.”

“Sure,” Eddie says quietly, “but you got me outta there.” He glances over at the seat, a smile flickering on his face. “C’mon.”

“If you’re sure.” Steve matches his volume, takes the chair. Moves a book onto his lap.

Eddie notices, glances at it. “What’s that?”

Steve colors. “Oh, uh…” he holds it up for Eddie to see. The Lord of the Rings. “Dustin and I have been taking turns reading, just in case you could hear while you were under.”

Eddie pouts. “No, but I wish I could’ve.”

Wayne bursts out laughing. “Well damn, Ed, he ain’t killed your puppy. Fact, I’d bed he’d read t’you right now iffen y’asked him.” He stands, grabs Eddie’s hand and squeezes. It’s the one part of him that doesn’t hurt, but it still makes tears threaten to fall. “I’ve gotta get to work. Y’gonna be alright, son?”

Eddie smiles, does his best to squeeze Wayne’s fingers back. “I’ll be fine, Pops.”

Wayne leaves, and Steve opens the book, pausing halfway through trying to find his page. “D’you want me to start at the beginning?”

Eddie smiles at him. “‘S alright. I’ve read it so many times, you can start from wherever. I won’t be lost.”

Steve nods, flips through a few more pages. Fingers a corner, works his lip between his teeth. “I, uh… Dustin does voices. I’m… not good at that. And I’m probably gonna say half the names wrong.”

“‘S alright,” Eddie promises him. “‘Sides, it’s a made-up book with a made-up language. Maybe you’re saying it right and everyone else is saying it wrong.”

Steve snorts. “I doubt the author is saying it wrong,” he retorts, but settles back in his chair and begins to read.

A couple pages later, Steve stumbles over a few words in a row and shuts the book, grimacing as he pinches the bridge of his nose. “Sorry, man,” he murmurs. “I’d read more if I could, but I need to be able to drive home.”

Eddie frowns. “Reading’s hard for you?”

Steve rolls his eyes. It’s more of a self-deprecating thing than anything else. “I’ve had… four? Five? Concussions. I wasn’t the best reader before that. It’s definitely gotten worse. Too much and it’ll trigger a migraine.”

Eddie’s frown deepens. “Is there- something you could take? A prescription? Or- or some kind of help?”

Steve colors. “There’s something,” he admits. “I just… don’t like wearing them.”

Eddie’s frown turns curious. “Wearing them?”

Steve nods. Won’t look at Eddie. “Glasses. I just… don’t like the way they look on me.”

“Have you-” he’s interrupted by a cough, and Steve rushes to hand him water. “Thanks,” he rasps out after a couple sips, then clears his throat. “Can you get different frames?”

Steve rolls his eyes. “I did. These are the ones I hated the least.”

“Could I see them?” Eddie requests. “If you- if you’re here tomorrow. Would you bring them?”

Steve looks at him for a long second. “Sure,” he finally says. “I’ll be here tomorrow. And I’ll bring them.”

Eddie smiles at him. Steve smiles back, and leaves.

He arrives the next day while Dustin’s there. He leans in the doorway, crossing his arms and smiling at the scene. “Hey, dipshit,” he calls.

“Hey, Steve,” Dustin says back. “Anyways, so Mike was really stuck, right? So he decided-”

“Hey, dipshit,” Steve says again, jerking his head back. “Your ma’s out front.”

“Oh!” Dustin jumps up, gathering his things. “Okay, Eddie, don’t let me forget!” He calls over his shoulder, pointing at Eddie, almost running into the door before Steve nudges him out of the way.

He’s chuckling when he sinks into the chair Dustin had just vacated. “That kid.”

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he.”

“He really is.” He shifts uncomfortably for a second, pulls the book onto his lap, and sighs. “Just… I know I look stupid, okay? Just please don’t laugh.”

“Never,” Eddie swears immediately.

Steve pulls the glasses out of his pocket and puts them on, blinking at Eddie through the lenses as his eyes adjust. “Well?”

“They look good,” Eddie tells him immediately.

“Don’t-” Steve takes a breath, looks away. “We… we’ve been flirting. Right?”

Eddie’s heart rabbits in his chest. “I can stop.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, just… just tell me the truth.”

“The truth?” Eddie murmurs. “Sweetheart, the truth is if you’d been my teacher, wearing those glasses, I would’ve graduated the first time with fucking honors.”

Steve’s cheeks are pink. “You mean it?”

“Every word,” Eddie swears. “Why don’t you think so? Did someone say something? Was it one of the kids? Because I will kick them out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign-”

“No- Eddie,” Steve laughs. “No, it wasn’t the kids. It wasn’t anyone. I just… don’t think I look good.”

“Well you do,” Eddie returns, mildly affronted. “Don’t look good,” he grumbles, halfway under his breath. “Honestly.” It gets a laugh out of Steve, which is what he was going for. “Can I ask you for something that’s probably way out of line?”

Steve blinks. “You… can ask me, sure. Doesn’t mean I have to listen.”

“Guess so,” Eddie chuckles. It turns into a cough, which makes Steve get up, but Eddie waves him down. “Can I ask you to wear your glasses whenever you need to? And tell me if anyone says something, because again, I will kick the kids out of Hellfire until the end of the campaign. Just say the word, and they’re out.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m doing it because I want to. Because you’re worth it.”

“Okay,” Steve agrees quietly.

“Good,” Eddie agrees nonsensically.

With that, Steve opens the book and begins to read. He gets through quite a few more pages than the day before, but does eventually stop, rubbing his brows. “Sorry,” he says, “Guess I still can’t read much even with the glasses on.”

“That’s okay,” Eddie murmurs. “Do you like reading? Or are you reading for my sake?”

Steve rubs the back of his neck. “Mostly for your sake,” he admits. “I don’t like reading as much as you do, or as much as Dustin does. But I want to know what you like. I want to understand what you like. And I feel like reading is the best way to do that.”

“Makes sense,” Eddie replies, “but you know you don’t have to, right? I’d like you even if you never picked up another book again.”

Steve grins, a small, shy thing. “You like me?” He teases.

“I do,” Eddie murmurs. “I thought – I thought we-”

“No,” Steve interrupts, “we are. We do. Or I do, I don’t know–”

“I do, too,” Eddie promises. “Just… Maybe when I’m out of the hospital?”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees, “of course. Do you have any news on when you get out?”

“Not yet, but hopefully I’ll know soon. I just don’t know what I’m going to do when I get out… I can’t even lift my arms to feed myself. And if I get out soon, before I’ve healed enough…”

“I get it,” Steve swears. “We’ll figure it out.”

“Okay,” Eddie agrees softly. “Okay.”

“I don’t think I can read anymore today,” Steve says, “but I can stay for a bit if you want company.”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, far too quickly, except it makes Steve blush and smile, and Eddie would make himself the fool a hundred times over to make Steve smile.

They decide to watch TV. At some point their hands end up intertwined, and Eddie wants to stay awake, he really does, but he’s still pretty broken, and he finds himself waking up when Steve pulls away. “Sorry,” Steve whispers, “I didn’t wanna wake you.”

Eddie wakes himself up more, makes some kind of groaning noise that he’s pretty sure he’s heard Wayne make before. “‘S okay,” he mumbles, twitching his fingers to pull Steve closer. “Wan’ed’a be ‘wake.”

“It’s okay,” Steve swears. “You need the rest.”

Eddie hums, lets his eyes slip shut. Lets Steve pull his fingers from Eddie’s limp grasp. “Wan’ you t’wear the glasses,” he murmurs. He hears Steve pause as he gathers his things.

“I will,” Steve whispers. “Promise. I’ve got them on right now.”

“Good,” Eddie mumbles, and falls asleep before Steve’s even out of the room.

The doctor comes in a few days later to talk to Eddie while Steve’s there, once again reading to him. “My apologies,” the doctor says. “I’ve got some information for Mr. Munson, if you wouldn’t mind stepping out for a moment.”

“He can stay,” Eddie says before Steve can move. Steve blinks at him, and Eddie nods, inclining his chin down to the chair Steve’s practically levitating in. Steve shifts his weight, sits back down.

“Very well,” the doctor says. “I’ve got good news for you, Mr. Munson, as long as you’ve got someone to look after you, you’ll be free to go as soon as your guardian arrives.” He shuffles a few papers around. “We’ve got some painkillers for you, as well as a round of antibiotics.” He offers the papers to Eddie. Steve takes them, puts them on the chair beside him. “Your wraps will need to be changed once a day and stay dry for another two weeks, so sponge baths only. After that, your wraps can come off while you shower, then be put back on as soon as your skin is dry. If you have any questions once you’ve been released, there’s a number on the paper you can call at any time. If you pop a stitch, come back in. If you have any adverse reactions to the medication, come back in. If you pass out or throw up repeatedly, come back in. If your wounds look inflamed or infected, come back in. Understand?”

Eddie nods, biting his lip. “My guardian- my uncle. He works. I-”

“He’ll have someone to look after him,” Steve interrupts, looking up at the doctor.

The doctor looks between them, then nods. “Very well then. A nurse will come in and make sure you’re okay to be released. As soon as your uncle is here, you’re free to go.” He smiles. “As much as you’ve been a model patient, I hope to never see you again.”

Eddie snorts. “You too, Doc.” He looks over at Steve as the doctor leaves, raises a brow. “I got someone to look after me?”

Steve colors, looks down. “The, uh. The trailer was…”

Eddie winces. “Yeah.”

“Yeah.” A sigh. “And the government’s dragging their feet about getting you guys another place. I offered up my place to Wayne. He’s been staying there since… well, since we got back topside. There’s more than enough room for the three of us.”

Eddie grins. “And this has nothing to do with you liking me, right?”

“I mean,” Steve shrugs, “I wouldn’t say nothing.”

They spend a long minute looking at each other before Steve looks back down at the open book in his lap.

Wayne arrives not too much later, just after the nurse finishes her duties. He grins at his nephew, finally freed from all the wires and tubes. “Y’ready to go?”

“Please,” Eddie agrees, looking at Steve. “I know my legs are generally fine, but just in case-”

Steve moves around the bed to stand next to him. “I’ve got you,” he murmurs, and Eddie believes him.

They get Eddie out of the hospital, into Wayne’s truck, and back to Steve’s house. “Welcome home,” Wayne deadpans, but Eddie can hear the slightest note of pride in Wayne’s gruff voice. He likes living here.

Eddie thinks he will, too.

“Your bedroom’s upstairs,” Steve murmurs. “The only bedroom down here is my parents’.”

“I’ll take the upstairs bedroom,” Eddie agrees, looking up at the aforementioned stairs. “Might need some help, though.”

“I can help,” Steve agrees. “Let’s see how much you can do by yourself first, though.”

The bannister is just about elbow height, so Eddie’s able to grab it and use it for support. He gets a third of the way up before he’s gritting his teeth, then halfway up before he shakes his head. “I can’t.”

“You did great,” Steve tells him, then picks him up bridal-style.

Eddie squawks, causing Wayne to laugh at him. He raises his hand just enough to flip Wayne off, then focuses on not making a fool of himself while Steve carries him upstairs.

“First room’s mine,” Steve tells him, nodding towards his door as he carefully sets Eddie down. “Wayne’s is two doors down, and yours will be here, between us.” He points towards a room, and Eddie walks towards it.

Walking on flat ground is a lot easier than walking up stairs, but he’s still pretty injured, so he’s glad for the chance to sit down on his bed when he gets into his room.

“Now,” Steve says, “way I see it, you’ve got three options.”

“Oh? And what would those be?”

“Sleep, eat, or bathe.” He gives Eddie a tiny grin. “I know you’ll need help with the last one. If you’d rather your uncle do it, I understand, but I’m willing.”

Eddie glances over at the en-suite, bites his lip, and shakes his head. “I think… if you’re willing. I think I’d prefer you.”

“I wouldn’t offer if I wasn’t completely serious.” He holds his hands out, offering Eddie help getting up. He takes it and leverages himself up, and together they walk into the bathroom.

“Sponge bath,” Steve murmurs, recalling the doctor’s words. “There should be a washcloth in here somewhere.” He gestures for Eddie to sit on the toilet for the time being, rooting around in the cabinets until he comes up with a wash cloth, shouting a triumphant, “Aha!” And waving it around like a flag.

“Man,” Eddie says, “I can’t believe anyone ever thought you were cool.”

“Fuck you, I am cool.”

“You’re a complete nerd, Stevie.”

Steve flips him off, tests the water temperature, nods. “Need help undressing?”

Eddie grimaces. “Probably.”

“That’s alright. Anything you can or want to do yourself?”

Eddie focuses on his jeans first. They unbutton and unzip just fine, and Eddie can get them most of the way over his hips, but he eventually gives up with a sigh. “‘M sorry,” he murmurs.

“I volunteered,” Steve reminds him, helping him out of his pants.

He quickly undresses Eddie the rest of the way and alternates between two cloths, one wet and soapy and one dry, so he doesn’t get the bandages wet. He zones out halfway through, glancing over at the sink multiple times.

The last time he does, Eddie gently taps him on the forehead. “I’d say penny for your thoughts, but I don’t think I have a penny.”

Steve chuckles, grins up at Eddie. “Then it’s a good think I’ll give them to you for free.” His smile turns smaller, more genuine. “I was wondering if there was a way to get a chair in here so we could wash your hair.”

“Oh,” Eddie murmurs, because it had been far too long since he’d last washed his hair. “That would be really nice.”

“Then I’ll find a way to do it,” Steve swears. “But I think the chair will work. Once you’re dressed again, I’ll go get it.”

He finishes bathing Eddie, helps him into clean clothes, and guides him back to the toilet. “Wait here,” he tells him, and runs out of the room in search of a chair.

He finds one that’s roughly the right height and brings it back, draping a towel over the edge of the sink for cushion, gesturing Eddie over and holding his hair up as he gets situated.

He starts washing, and it’s different in the sink, with a faucet that doesn’t move and is so close to the basin, but he makes do; cups warm-almost-hot water in his hands, lets it dribble over Eddie’s scalp.

He massages the shampoo in and Eddie hums. He rakes his fingers through the ends of Eddie’s hair, lathered with conditioner, and Eddie makes a breathless little sound.

Steve’s breath catches in his throat and he stills. “Good or bad sound?”

Another hum. “Good. Sorry. Jus’… relaxed.”

“‘S alright,” Steve murmurs back. “Just making sure.”

“‘S good,” Eddie promises, voice barely a whisper now.

“I’m glad,” Steve whispers back, and finishes washing his hair in silence.

Eddie’s tired after, eyes slipping shut even as he sits up in the chair and Steve dries his hair, so Steve takes mercy on him when his hair is half dry and leads him to bed. “Take a nap,” he whispers. “I’ll clean up and be out of your hair. I’ll be in my room with the door open if you need anything.”

Eddie hums, eyes slipping shut again as he grabs at Steve’s hand. “Stay?”

“Okay,” he agrees. “Just let me throw the towels in the hamper.”

Eddie hums, hand dropping back down to the bed and eyes slitting open as he watches Steve walk to the bathroom.

He’s back less than a minute later, smiling at Eddie as he tries to stay awake. “Go to sleep,” he laughs, sliding in between the sheets next to Eddie. “I’m here. I’m not leaving. Now sleep.”

Eddie lets his eyes close as he moves his hand under the sheets, searching for Steve’s. When he finds it, he grabs and squeezes it, just once, and falls asleep.

Steve doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but there’s not much keeping him awake. He awakens later to Eddie trying to leverage himself out of bed.

He sits up with a snort, blinking at Eddie. “What’re you doing?”

Eddie tosses an apologetic look over his shoulder. “Sorry, I wasn’t trying to wake you. I just needed to use the bathroom.”

Steve hums, stands, walks over to Eddie and helps him up. “I don’t mind you waking me. I’d actually prefer you did, instead of popping your stitches.” He grins, pokes at a bit of Eddie’s side that he knows is unharmed.

Eddie grins back, wide and happy. “I’ve gotta learn. ‘S not like this arrangement is gonna continue. You’ve got your bed and I’ve got mine.”

“It could,” Steve considers. “What if you’re trying to get up in the middle of the night and can’t? What if you have a nightmare and thrash around and pop a stitch?”

“What if you barely sleep because you’re not used to another person in bed with you?”

“What if,” Steve whispers, “that nap was the most restful sleep I’ve gotten in a while?”

“Really?”

Steve looks down, realizes he’s still holding Eddie’s hands. He lets go, takes a step back. Doesn’t look up; he knows his face is burning. “Really.” He flicks his chin over to the bathroom. “Go ahead. I’ll help you downstairs after, it’s almost dinner time.”

Eddie doesn’t move for a minute. Steve chances a glance up at him, and his breath catches at the naked affection staring back at him.

It’s only after Steve looks up at him that Eddie moves, stumbling over to the bathroom and quickly finishing up. Steve stands still, staring at where the sheets are messed up. Two spots. He’s not used to that in his bed. Even when he’d have girls over, none of them wanted to stay the night. Even Nancy left.

But here he is, in a room in his house that isn’t actually his, with a guy, and they’ve been flirting with each other, and-

He thinks he needs to call Robin.

He thinks, as Eddie emerges from the bathroom and smiles at him, he knows exactly what he’s feeling, and doesn’t need to call Robin after all.

They make their way downstairs and Steve settles on a simple pasta dinner. Eddie somehow wiggles his way up onto the counter, and sits beside the stovetop, kicking his leg out and occasionally hitting Steve’s thigh. Steve always glances at him when he does, and it becomes a game, and soon enough they’re both giggling as Steve dumps the pasta into the boiling water.

The water splashes, and Eddie hisses, jerking his arm away and rubbing at it. Steve looks up, worried. “Did it get you?”

Eddie waves him off, nudging his thigh with his foot again. “‘M alright. Not even a mark, ‘s just hot.”

“Still,” Steve says, and steps closer. “Can I see?”

Eddie stares at him for a minute. Offers him his arm.

He’s right. There’s no mark apart from an old scar, years old and years healed. Steve’s hand comes up, and his thumb strokes the scar, then down a little, towards his elbow. “Well?” Eddie asks teasingly. “What’s the prognosis, doc?”

Steve stares at him flatly, playing into it. “You’ll live,” he says, completely deadpan, grinning when Eddie giggles. He bumps Eddie’s knee with his hip, moves away to collect plates and silverware. “Make yourself useful and stir the pasta, would you?”

Eddie sticks his tongue out but picks up the spoon and does as he’s asked.

And so it goes. They’re mostly left unattended, as Wayne is usually at work, but sometimes he’ll sit on the couch with Steve and they’ll watch football or baseball, much to the chagrin of Eddie, who takes every opportunity possible to bemoan the existence of sports for stealing Steve’s attention away from him.

Steve doesn’t tell him that even when his eyes are on the TV, his mind is on Eddie. He’s well aware he falls too fast, too hard.

He helps Eddie up and down the stairs. He gives him sponge baths and washes his hair. Eventually his wounds begin to heal, and he’s able to get up and down the stairs on his own, if not a lot slower than usual.

He starts taking quick showers on his own. Steve still washes his hair in the sink, and now he helps Eddie change his bandages after he showers.

One day, Eddie hesitates on the edge of the bathroom threshold. “I don’t…” he looks away, bites his lip. Puts his arms up, tousles the top of his hair to prove his point. “I can do it on my own now.”

“Oh,” Steve says, feeling strangely heartbroken. “Right, yeah, that’s great. I’ll just, uh-” he takes a step back, angles his thumb behind him.

Eddie jerks forward, wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrist. “But you could help? If you wanted?”

Steve tugs Eddie over to the bed, sits on the edge. Doesn’t say anything until Eddie sits, too. He plays with the frame of his glasses as he says, “You’ve been flirting with me.” Eddie lets go of his wrist. Steve tries not to miss it. “It’s… it’s okay. You don’t have to stop. I just need you to be honest with me.”

“Anything,” Eddie whispers, and Steve drops his voice to match.

“Do you mean it? Or are you just flirting because you can?”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs, bringing a hand up to cup Steve’s jaw, and oh, Steve thinks.

Oh.

“Really?” He whispers, and Eddie nods.

“Really.”

“I can’t,” Steve murmurs. “I can’t do this if you just like me. If this is… is gonna be a fling, or whatever.”

“Baby,” Eddie murmurs again. “I’ve long since healed enough to sleep alone. I don’t want to. I want to wake up to your face every day. I want to bring you your glasses when you forget them, I want to stir your pasta sauces and annoy you in the kitchen until you threaten to throw me out, even if we both know you never will. I want to be the one you come home to every day, the one you turn to when you need support. I want you to feel safe with me the way I do with you.” His thumb strokes Steve’s cheek, wiping away a tear. “Because I do. I feel safe with you. You make me feel safe. You- baby.” He strokes Steve’s cheek again, studies his eyes. “Baby. Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Steve gasps, and Eddie does.

He leans in slowly, enough time for Steve to close his eyes and part his lips the barest amount, not out of any desire to tease, but just because he’s feeling so much he can’t contain it all, and it has to come out in gasps and breaths and small, shaky moans, when Eddie licks into his mouth, pulls his tongue into a tango, back and forth and in and out until Steve’s positively dizzy with it.

He pulls back just to tilt his head the other way and dive in with just as much fervor, sucking Steve’s bottom lip into his mouth, nipping at it until it’s swollen and tender and Steve feels like he could float away.

Steve breaks the kiss first, dizzy and panting and overwhelmed, leaning forward and pulling Eddie into a hug. “I’m so glad,” he murmurs. “I didn’t think…”

“Of course I would,” Eddie mutters back, holding Steve tight. “Of course I would, baby. Didn’t have a chance, really, was just gone on you from the moment I saw you.”

Steve pulls back, tugs Eddie down until they’re both laying down, halfway on the bed, noses nearly brushing. “And you want me to… to help?”

Eddie grins big enough his eyes are slits. “I’m gonna be honest here, sweetheart, I definitely imagined help would come after.”

Steve giggles back, leans in to steal a peck of a kiss. “I can do that,” he agrees, standing up and pulling Eddie to the bathroom.

They’re both laughing like little kids as they go, and a part of Steve wonders if that’s what falling in love is: growing young again.