#and robin should never be sexualized ever

[ms-all-sunday]

personal experience time for prosperity, so i've mentioned that one piece is the reason I'm okay with the fact I'm bisexual now, which i thought it was self evident why that was but I'll explain because i feel like it gives perspective on why im so pro-sexualized/the narrative seeing this character as attractive (when appropriate obviously and i think op does a good job of doing that for the most part) for nami/robin (mainly talking about my experience with nami)

so previously ive had issues with never being attracted to female fictional characters, (I've been attracted to real human women very briefly throughout my life. i just dont hang out with a lot of people and the majority of them arent girls) and that was a problem even though i knew I was able to be attracted to girls I didn't feel like i was able to identify with that part of myself, (as a trans man, I've always felt very pushed into wlw spaces which I think isn't good and even though I have alters that identify as women we've never as a whole ever thought we were wlw) the problem was, when youre asked to be attracted to fictional women 99% of that is either objectification or look this character is hot! and then her actual character is nonexistent. which is a problem for me, because in my experience strong attraction comes from both how much i relate to someone and how much I admire them, so if I'm at large completely unable to relate to female characters, it puts me in a really fucking tough spot and i end up never being able to explore attraction like that in a fictional space. you see, you could point out to me that there's wlw characters and experiences that could've helped me? which, I'll point you to the fact I'm a man and secondly, I tried that. but I'm a man and unfortunately while I can appreciate gay girls in fiction i don't connect with them like that.

where this changed for me was a year ago when I watched one piece and then immediately was blasted by girls who were very obviously seen as attractive but were some of the best written female characters i had ever fucking seen since having that crush on that original character,

and there were men in the context of the fiction that were attracted to nami for the exact same reasons I was ??? (sanji/zoro in arlong park) and these men were being defined by having a crush on or being attracted to nami, and she was the one in control (another reason I couldnt connect with m/f couples: i wanted to be held by a girl and taken care of by a girl not the other way around)

and she struggled with mental health like i did so of course i could relate to her! and i was being encouraged by nami herself to see her as attractive so i didn't feel creepy like i did all of the other times (being a man and being attracted to women and inherently feeling creepy was a huge issue for me) and she was seen as a whole person, a whole entire beautiful person. the fact she was so complicated and detailed made her more attractive, and the fact i could connect and relate to her and have loving her mean that I love aspects of myself i couldnt expect?? I just loved her and i was attracted to her and I couldn't control it so it had me let go of my fear without me even realizing it was happening.

i literally havent felt creepy expressing my attraction to women since.

i simply needed to figure out how to be attracted to women- nami- because i was attracted to her so immediately and so intensely that being attracted to her meant i immediately became more articulate about it because i loved her so much it burst out of me.

the fact people saw nami as attractive was both good for me, someone who finds her attractive and struggled with expressing my attraction to women and was only attracted to fictional women who were entire people!, but also allowed me to feel loved myself as a person with mental health issues similar to hers.

basically, TLDR, i think viewing female fictional characters as attractive is fine as long as they're entire people who aren't reduced to their relationship to men, and is really fucking good actually both on the level that people get to see themselves as attractive and that it rightfully sends the message that women are more attractive when they are understood as whole people with lives and flaws (that can exist outside of traditional heterosexuality).

[cosmic-dust-poltergeist]

Pt3 of forever teen Danny adopting JJ Tim AND Red Hood Jason.

[Pt2: Here] [Pt 4: here]

Jason had absolutely no idea what he was looking at. Talia's information was apparently out of date when she sent him back here. There's a tiny vigilante version of Joker talking to the air on a rooftop in Crime Alley that wasn't in any of her reports. The whispers on the street call the kid Poltergeist, and he's apparently a chaotic good character and used to be Robin #3 before a run-in with the Joker turned him into the loony he sees before him. Jason is pissed Bruce let a second kid fall into that monster's hands.

And despite Jason searching, he hasn't found anything on the guy that supposedly saved the kid from Joker. Harley is still fucked up from seeing this Phantom guy kill her "Puddin'", but considering she helped fuck this kid up, Jason has no sympathy.

"Shit!" Jason ducks for cover when the kid suddenly snaps his head over to him. When Jason looks back, the kid isn't there anymore. "Double shit."

"Why have you been watching me?" Is asked from behind him. Jason will deny the yelp and jolt if anyone asks, but he totally did as he whips around, finding the kid perched on the building's roof access. There should be no way he got there that fast (is the kid a meta?). He has his head tilted like a curious puppy, the dark purple lipstick smeared over his lips and facial scars not hiding his little little frown. "Who are you, anyways, Mr. Tank?"

"I just wanted to check out the new player." Jason is glad his helmet disguises his voice, it masks some of his awkwardness.

The kid pouts, "I've been around 3 years if you count my year as Robin, that's not very new. If anything, you're the new player, Mr. Hood."

So the kid does know who he is? "Yeah, well, I've been outside of Gotham for those 3 years. You're new to me."

"Hmm, you couldn't have been Red Hood before you left." A second teenager's voice says from just to the left of Poltergeist, startling Jason. An unearthly looking 14(?) year old fades into view. The kid(?) is floating, answering the question of how Poltergeist got to where he is without Jason noticing. "Your ectoplasum is funky, my guy. How long have you been an Revenant?"

"A what?" The helmet can't mask how baffled he is.

"Yeah! Yeah! What's a Revenant, Dad!?" Poltergeist excitedly asks the other kid(?). The (not)kid's obviously not human, so Jason is obviously an idiot for assuming. Guy looks like a kid, but doesn't have the vibe of a kid. And he gets the vibe Poltergeist is call this guy "Dad" in a 100% "this is my father" way and not the weird "I call my sexual partner Daddy" thing that cropped up while Jason was without internet access.

"A Revenant is an undead that had a violent death and had a need to avenge themselves so desperate they rebound their soul to their body." The unknown explains, then seems to stare into Jason's soul. "Something is off about your ectoplasm, though. You should really get that looked at."

"Looked at by who?" Jason asks warily, "Who even are you?"

"Ah, I'm Phantom. Friendly neighborhood dead guy." Phantom fucking finger guns, what even is Jason's life? "And if you're asking that, I can only assume you've never been to the Infinite Realms."

"The where??"

"A dimension that runs parallel to this one. It's the dimension of the dead, undead, and neverbornes. It's very green." Phantom explains. "They'd have more knowledge on how to fix you the best, but I currently don't have easy access to it and don't know where you could. Good news! I'm pretty sure if I give you my own ectoplasm while slowly removing the fucked up bits of yours, it'd straight itself out. The unfortunately side effect is you'd be considered my kid in the eyes of the Realms and I'd want to know who the fuck you are before either of us commit to that."

"It'd fix the pit rage?" Jason asks in a daze. He's killed more people than he ever wanted because of the blackout rage he gets sent into.

""Pit rage"?" Phantom is staring into his soul again.

"I get so angry I blackout and can't truly tell you what I did during the, usually, hours I'm lost to it." Jason explains, "It's how I got on B's radar before I meant to."

Poltergeist is now creepily staring at him. Kid really is mimicking his dad.

"Yeah, no, that's not normal." Phantom scrunches his face in thought. "Rage is normal for a Revenant, it comes with the territory, but blackout rage isn't..."

Phantom looks over to Poltergeist, "How do you feel about a sibling?"

Poltergeist hasn't stopped his staring. It's freaking Jason out. Even more so when the kid starts cackling in delight. It sounds Joker-like. Which is fair given what Jason heard about how the kid became this way.

"I know who You Are Revenant ~!" Poltergeist sings. Making Jason freeze, because seriously??? The Bats haven't figured it out, but this kid in one meeting did???

"Oh?" Phantom asks fondly.

"He's the second Robin!" Poltergeist crows. "You definitely have my permission! How could I refuse the best Robin being my brother??"

"Wha-how-what the fuck, kid?" Jason sputters.

"You thought I wouldn't recognize you?" Poltergeist grins manically. "I stalked you and the B-man every chance I got before you died! I know you! Batsy was a fool to let you go!"

"You what now?" Jason doesn't know how many existential crisises he can handle in one conversation.

"I had a baby stalker phase!" Poltergeist admits happily before turning to Phantom, "Does being a vigilante mean I'm still a stalker?"

Phantom seems to genuinely think about it before answering, "I think you have to be to be a Gotham vigilante. Just try not to let it branch out to other areas in life. Normal people, and probably normal heroes and vigilantes, would probably get scared off."

"Jazz already told me." Poltergeist whines and flops over. Jason can now only see his feet. "Normal people are boring anyways."

Phantom just shakes his head fondly before looking back at Jason. "I'll let you think on it. We'll be around."

And with that, Phantom scoops up Poltergeist and turns them both invisible. Poltergeist's shriek of "Ta Ta!" and happy cackles echo in a way that means Phantom is flying them away.

Jason doesn't need to think on it, but he appreciates the thought.

He heads to his nearest safe house and starts researching up a storm on the supernatural to at least have a baseline on what he (and Phantom possibly) are. He takes a lot of the info with a grain of salt, though. He'll have lots to ask when he meets up with his potential new family. Who needs the Bats anyways? B told him he wasn't his father before he died, why should that change now that he died and came back? Nah, B will just be mad he's a crimelord. Phantom and Poltergeist don't seem to mind at all.

Yeah, he's joining their weirdass family. Maybe he should add a symbol or something green to his vigilante get up to declare it? He'll decide after he talks to them. Phantom might have a family crest or something.

[depresssant]

Shades Of Cool

NEGLECTFUL!PLATONIC!YAN!batfam x GN!reader - part l, part ll

synopsis : growing up with a shit mom and constant step-dads and mom's boyfriends, your view on life has grown pretty bleak. you just want to die, since it doesn't seem to get better than this. things can't get any worse, can they?

so reader is very flawed ppl. i’m trying to make this as gn as possible for pls bear with me. asks and requests r open. reblogs are also much appreciated. now that i’ve gotten my e-begging out of the way, enjoy this pathetic excuse of a story

warnings : child abuse, past sexual abuse, yandere, etc

you want to die.

you always do.

staring at the wanna be thug pointing a gun at you, you sigh and roll your eyes in exasperation. perhaps pissing him off will the best way to get him to curl a finger around the trigger. or judging by his temperament, you won't have to do much.

"you? i should give my money to you?"

"who the fuck do you think you are, bitch?" the thug screams at you angrily. his grip gets tighter and clammier. he's not experienced with this. he's probably ganged up with a bunch of thugs to pull shit like this. it wouldn't take much to disarm him. "give me the fucking money before i blow your head off!"

"to a junkie like you?" you are a junkie, too, so you're not too sure about making fun of him for that. "i don't give money to hobos."

that is wrong, too. but you want to piss him off.

"that's it, you stupid bitch!" the thug's stances becomes defensive. his hateful glare is pointed at you while he musters the courage to actually press the trigger. he doesn't look like he'll do it. you've seen countless like him roaming the streets, holding you at gunpoint. he probably won't do it. then again, this is gotham. you don't expect much. either he'll shoot you dead, forcibly take your stuff, flee the scene out of fear, or be dismantled by one of the city's vigilantes. perhaps he'd shoo—

"stop right there!"

damn it.

you think too soon.

a young robin is quick to have the wanna be thug tied up and beat down. you would've questioned why a kid who seemingly looked twelve can do such a thing, but you've learned to not question most things in your life. you merely sigh in disappoint and pick up your dropped backpack before beginning the journey to hell.

"excuse me? wait! where are you headed?"

gosh, his boy-ish voice grates your nerves. makes you clench your teeth. your gaze narrows, but you know better than to react. reaction gains a reaction—one that will never be in your favor. it'll lead to a fight—one that will never be in your favor. you'll end up broken, bleeding, and bruised. now that isn't something in your favor. now you're thinking of favor too much. forcing a smile, you turn around to face the pre-teen vigilante. "yes?"

"are you alright?" he asks with practiced concern. he doesn't actually care. it's probably just protocol.

"a-okay!" the words are hollow. they lack depth. like you. "thank you for your help. i don't know what would've happened to me if you weren't there."

you do know. you wish you wouldn't.

"you're welcome," robin replies with polished words like he's not exactly convinced. "would you like for me to walk you? the city hasn't been safe for some time now."

"when is it ever safe? but that's okay. i live just around the corner, so i think i'll be fine."

"are you sure—"

"completely."

please. why won't he just leave you alone? there goes your plan spoiled by him again. every time you've been in an attempted robbing, he's been there to destroy your chances of getting shot. of escaping. he always does this. this is a repeated cycle between the two of you. he's a flying bird until you shoot him down. your name clearly wants to escape from his lips, but robin nods his head in understanding.

"this seems to happen to you all the time. my wish is for you to be safe."

"this is gotham." the grip on the straps on your backpack tighten. "everyone's gotta go through this. anyways, i gotta go, you know. thanks for savin' me."

"of course."

you don't spare him a single glance. the sky is wrapped up in black clouds heavy with the burden of rain. icy cold wind sings a melancholy tune through the stiff air. the door to your apartment looks like the gates of hell. it's all futile. no matter how many sighs you sigh, how many wishes you wish, and how many curses you curse, you'll still land up in the same fate. without escape.

that is the summary of your life.

taking a few seconds to prepare yourself for the incoming session, you open the door to be met with radio silence. silence is never good. half the time, it means something is brewing for you, and they're taking their sweet time to scare you into thinking nothing will happen. sometimes. not all the time. the other time, it just means he need to rise from his pile of misery first.

the hand of your mother's boyfriend is instantly wrapped around your neck before you can even register why the hell the apartment looks like a tornado hit it. he squeezes so tightly you feel like blood is gushing out of your ears with how loudly they ring. white spots dot along your blurry sight as you struggle to breathe. you can hear a frantic voice telling him to let you go, but you're pushed up more against the wall. this is the norm. doesn't mean it hurts any less. he'll let you go, give you some time to regain your breath, and then rain down bullets upon you.

that's exactly what happens.

your hand goes straight to your neck as your raspy and shaky coughs wreck your chest. he squeezes hard enough for it to hurt but it not show. and then the kicks and punches come. with how much your chest and ribs are struck, you're a bit surprised at how you haven't broken a bone yet. your potential step-father screams at you, but you can barely hear it over the repetition of words in your head. he grabs your bloody face and shout something incoherent before letting you go to kick you.

leaving you in your own pile of misery.

it's normal. yes, it's completely normal. you're used to this. it'll get better. it always does. but you've got the crushing idea it never will.

gotham heights high school—the school you're forced to attend.

the class division is insane to look at, because it's there even from a short and near prospective. how the richest kids got put in a school with the poorest—you'll never know. the only thing you do know is that every one of these kids are pieces of shit. even the ones that pretend to be nice.

tim drake—or shall you say tim wayne—is no different.

even as he helps up the girl who just got roughly pushed to the floor, causing all her textbooks to scatter, you can only eye him with disdain. if he really cares, then he would've beat the shit out of those athletes. but he doesn't. they're all the same—privileged and all. sympathy shouldn't be given to them. not to drake or the wealthy yet somehow bullied girl.

"but y'know what i heard?" your friend drags your attention back to him. zarian leans against a locker lazily, but excitement practically buzzes off of him. "the bruce wayne is coming to our track meet today!"

your other friend, jaylene, rolls her eyes as she applies her eyeliner using the mirror hanging up on the inside door of her locker. she speaks exactly what you're thinking. "only because his beloved son is gonna be there."

"well, still. think about the connections we can make! all the famous people that'll be there."

"keep dreaming. asshat. i put all my money on the attention being on rich the kid. i don't even know why he joined track. varsity, at that, too. there has to be some sort of bribery going on."

an incoming argument is clearly brewing up, so you take in a deep breath to say something, but a new voice beats you to it.

"excuse me?"

you and your two friends turn to face the guy standing in front of you. charismatic, intelligent,  and optimistic—he's an enigma that shines on everyone. tim drake. his black, messy yet somehow in place hair does no justice for his good looks. he's the complete package. rich, good looking, tall, and empathetic. the mere sight of him annoys you.

zarian is the first to speak up. he quirks a brow and offers tim a grin. "what's up, man?"

"you're leaning against my locker." tim rubs the back of his neck. he smiles awkwardly in the presence of the three of you, and it takes your friend a beat to understand what he's saying before moving away.

"oh yeah. my fault," he says as he moved to stand next to you.

the school's very own bruce wayne only shakes his head and tells him it's okay while opening his locker and grabbing a few things. people flock around, waiting for him to be done with whatever the hell he's doing, so they can be back to his side like leeches sucking on blood. he surely can't be this dumb, no? these people don't want to be his friend...

well, it's not as if it's your problem. you wish it is. you and your friends turn to make way to first period, but drake clearly has other plans. he sandwiches himself between you and zarian with a grin of his own plastered on an unblemished face. one carefree of any worry or pain. "so," tim begins. "first track meet of the year, huh? aren't you guys nervous?"

jaylene merely hums in amusement and shrugs. "it gets better. when you've spent four years in track—in front of all those judging people—it wears off. hopefully, you'll get used to it soon."

that is jab, though, rich the kid doesn't seem to catch on. he laughs casually, but even you can sense the anxiety like it was radioactive. ""i hope so. i've sprinted so much i feel like i'll get shin splits again."

you zone out while he has a conversation with your friends. as if drake has ever had experience with track. it took you all of freshman year to just prove that you can actually be a part of the track team, and here tim drake is, parading around about getting on varsity without a single grain of hard work. he's a naturally talented person. good at everything. that's what makes you hate him so much. people like him get everything handed to them just because they're good at it first hand and leave behind people that actually work for it. you want to tell him to buzz off—that he can't talk about how much he's practiced and how nervous he is, but you keep your mouth shut. that is, until he directly addresses you.

tim's eyes narrow at you with comedic suspicion. "you know, you look like someone i know. a lot. the resemblance is crazy."

"eight billion people out there. you never know." your tone is flat, stoic, lacking any bit of emotion.

"gosh, you even sound like him! that's really terrifying."

"well, whoever, it is, i hope i never meet him," you murmur.

your two friends leave for their classes soon, and you and drake find your seats at the back of high school economics. exhaustingly so, you sit together in one of the many desk pairs, and drake uses this opportunity to annoy you any chance he gets. you give off the vibe that you don't want to talk to him. he doesn't get the hint. you don't tell him, though. maybe that's the problems. his shit-eating grin ticks you off when you look in his direction. "what?"

"let's be friends!"

"no."

"what? come on! don't be so cold!" he whines like a petulant child being told no.

"no."

"too bad! you're my friend now."

"tim," you sigh. it's wrong to scream. it's bad to scream. screaming leads to fights. fights lead to you laying in a pool of your own blood. laying in blood leads to missing practice. missing practice leads to less skill. less skill leads to less of a chance of getting the hell out of here. just smile. forgive and forget. know your persona. know who you are. kind. happy. funny. "fine." so you smile with gritted teeth. you smile like you played a cruel joke on him. "we can be friends... i guess."

his face brightens at your fake words like he is just given the the world.

tim drake wiggles his eyebrows playfully and nudges you with his elbow. "you know, i've been trying to get you to say that since school started?"

"really now?"

"really. i'm glad we're going to be friends. oh! should we go out to eat with zarian and jaylene after the meet?"

... there's a chance your mom's boyfriend will get pissed off. he'll probably beat the shit out of you since the track meet would have happened, and you wouldn't need to have an unblemished body for meets. he'd scream, yell, and punch... like his life depended on it... fuck it.

"yeah," you reply shortly after with a firm nod of your head. "we can go to this diner near the theater. i'm sure you'll love the food."

this doesn't mean you hate him any less. he's still rich scum⏤how you're poor scum. he's stuck up, pretentious, and sickeningly sweet. exactly what you hate. you just hope you can have a good time after the track meet. the mischievous glint in his eyes told you otherwise.

"and this is my dad, bruce wayne."

what the hell are you doing?

the sun is setting along the horizon, the air is getting cooler again, and you want to sink into the floor. the plan was to head straight to the diner after this, but rich the kid somehow roped you into meeting his dad?

nausea pools in your stomach from both hunger and the feeling of thousands of eyes staring at you. cameras are flashing at gotham's billionaire as he smiles and firmly shakes your hand. confidence drips off of him disgustingly. his high-tailored suit radiates wealth and money. his stoic demeanor gives off an aura of mystery. you want to lay on a railroad track with an incoming train speeding along the way.

"it's nice to meet you. tim has ranted about his track teammates quite a lot."

there's an eleven year old standing next to him. his eyes are on you like that of an owl's but you neither glance at him or bother to acknowledge him. you just want to eat some food before meeting your doom at that apartment for not placing first like your mom's boyfriend wanted you to. like a goat getting stuffed before slaughter. it always leads down to that. no matter how many times you try to wish it was different. no matter how many times you imagine it to be different. no matter how many times you try to make it different.

"nice to meet you too." you shake his hand as well with a polite smile on your face. polite. calm. gentle. proper. "and yeah, he seems very eager to be on the team."

"of course, of course. well, it is getting late. why don't you come over for dinner some time?"

"maybe tonight?" tim suddenly adds in. at your hesitant expression, he groans in exasperation. "who do you think we are? blood-sucking bats? come on, we can go to the diner some other time!"

you have just met him... you've just accepted being his friend... you aren't the most social person. you've never had much friends, but even you can understand that dinner with the family doesn't happen until the friend and person have come close in a long period of time. jaylene and zarian have other matters to tend to, so it's going to be just you and tim at a diner. not⏤

ding!

your phone's notification's alarm chimes, and when you check who has sent you a message, you feel like getting on the ground to pray to whatever deity for letting you have a moment of peace.

mom: ⏤he's heavily drunk. don't come home.

a part of you is hit with a strong current full of guilt. this is your mother. you're supposed to be there for her through thick and thin. you're supposed to protect her and be her wall of defense against monsters like him. family look out for each other. you have to take care of her... but she doesn't take care of you. this makes you a terrible person. you know that. she'll probably get beaten to an inch of her life and hide her heavy bruises under makeup that was terribly done in a rush. and then, she'll throw whatever object is in sight at you in a fury of anger.

telling you she made too many sacrifices for you. telling you that you're ruined her life. telling you that she should've aborted you like your father had told her to. telling you exactly what you believe yourself. a curse that should've never been born... she'll be beaten within an inch of her life. but you have already lost yours.

after pretending to text her and sliding your phone into the pocket of your sweatpants, you nod with a sigh of joking resignation. "sure. i asked my mom, and she said it's okay."

"wonderful." mr. wayne nods and gestures to the limo you can see in the parking lot. a bit of overkill, perhaps.

honestly, you're still surprised that gotham's billionaire is inviting you to dinner. this man is the topic of magazines, and you're about to take a ride in his limo. how the hell have you ended up in a situation like this? fate is still fucking with you, isn't it?

you find yourself seated next to tim while mr. wayne and his youngest son, damian, sit on the seats to your right. they're talking about something, but once again, you find yourself half listening and zoning out, staring at nothing until mr. wayne's questions pulls you back to reality.

"so how has school been faring for you?" mr. wayne asks in a cool and collected tone.

you laugh lightly and smile as politely as ever. "pretty good. i hope to leave gotham after graduation to study somewhere else."

"who would want to stay in gotham?" tim rolled his eyes, rolling the first place medal between his fingers. "by the way, remember when i said you looked like someone i know? i was talking about my dad?"

your brows rise in both exasperation and annoyance at his claims. now he's just plain, out right trying to make fun of you in front of a billionaire. your shoulders tense, ready to refute his claims, but mr. wayne surprisingly chuckles and rubs his chin while taking a good look at your face. "well, i can see it, but there's eight billion people out there in the world. i'm bound to look like someone. though, i didn't expect for it to be someone as talented as [name] here."

you force a quiet laugh along at the sound of his tone. foreboding. you know tones like this. like he's hiding something that they all know except for you. it means you've made a mistake in even giving in to tim drake's constant begging. why the hell was he so eager to have you become his friend? why is he so eager to maintain a friendship with you? why the hell has mr. wayne invited you to dinner when he's rumored to be mysterious, secretive, and a literal brick wall that nobody can get past?

"you've achieved so much for a child your age." mr. wayne sets his gaze dead on you. "your father must be so proud."

and his eyes glimmer with that same shine you saw in tim's.

ewwww

this was not proofread so forgive me and uh, i will be turning this into a series

um also making a tag list if anyone wants to be a part of it

[dwobbitfromtheshire]

For the first time since they saved the world, since Steve carried Eddie out of hell, and their bat bites had healed, Eddie was finally hanging out with Steve without impending doom hanging over their heads. Robin was also there as she didn't want to miss Steve cooking, and Eddie didn't blame her.

"Holy fucking shit!" Eddie yelled, slamming down his fork. "Fucking marry me."

Steve blinked at him, blushing, and his mouth fell open. He quickly closed it and smiled.

"Okay!"

"Oh! I'll go get the book!" Robin exclaimed, clapping her hands as she ran off.

"Book?" Eddie asked. "What? What's going on?"

Robin soon came back with a large white binder with a lock on it. She slammed it on the table and pulled out a key from under her shirt, unlocking it.

"This is Steve’s wedding book. As his best man, I hold the key," Robin said.

"Wait, hold on, that wasn't a real - ," Eddie started to say.

"Ooh, some of these were definitely written before me. That's definitely Baby Steve’s handwriting. . . Ooh, I can just imagine little Stevie putting a white sheet over his perfect hair," Robin said. "So, Spring, Fall, Summer, or Winter?"

"I was thinking Fall-ish," Steve said. "Near the end of August, maybe in September. Not too cold, not too hot."

Robin closed her eyes and held a pen in the air. Where did the pen come from?

"August 30th! I feel it! Perfect day!" Robin exclaimed.

"Wait, just a goddamn minute! What are you doing?!" Eddie shrieked.

"Planning your wedding to Steve, duh," Robin said, rolling her eyes. "Now, Steve, are you sure about the groom?"

"Yeah," Steve said, grinning. "He's funny, very cute, and good with kids. Yeah, I'll take him."

"You like men?!" Eddie asked.

"Duh, babe, keep up. He's already told you this," Robin said.

"Fucking when?!" Eddie asked.

"In the hospital," Steve replied.

"When I was on painkillers?!" He asked.

"You still want Dustin to be the flower girl?" Robin asked Eddie.

"Oh, shit, that actually would be hilarious- no, nope, no way! This isn't happening!" Eddie yelled.

"Did you ask Steve to marry you?" Robin asked.

"Well, yes, but - "

"Did he say yes?"

"Again, yes, however - "

"Then you're engaged. Congratulations," Robin said.

"Ooh, we have enough money in the budget for weddings 2, 5, and 8!" Steve explained, looking over her shoulder.

"When I said that Steve should marry me, I wasn't -," Eddie said.

"Can you think of a reason why you shouldn't marry Steve?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I don't even know if I like men! I like women!" Eddie shrieked, running his hands over his face.

"You said something different in the hospital," Steve said.

"You mean, when I was on painkillers?!" He asked. "You're fucking with me. You guys are fucking with me."

"Babe, you seem stressed out by all this wedding planning," Steve said, taking his hand.

"I am VERY stressed out," Eddie said.

"Just let me and Robin handle it. I have been planning my wedding since I was like five, and trust me, I have never been a fan of big weddings, so it's going to be low-key and tasteful," Steve said, squeezing his hand.

"This is illegal," Eddie said weakly and in disbelief.

"Yeah, like none of us have ever done anything illegal," Steve rolled his eyes. "A marriage is more than just a piece of paper. Besides, I don't want the government at my wedding anyway."

"Fuck, yeah, me neither," Eddie said, shaking his head. "This is crazy!"

"Look, Eddie, I know this is sudden, and I know how scary it is to deal with all of this as well as speed running through a sexuality crisis. It's been a couple of months, but there were days where I sat by your bedside, hoping you would wake up, and when you did, I realized that I wanted to wake up next to you every morning," Steve said softly, rubbing his thumb. "I want to hear every single rant, even the ones where you're being as asshole. I love you, and if you really don't want to do this, then I'll back down."

Eddie looked into Steve’s hazel eyes, swallowing thickly as he imagined being married to him and waking up with him every day. He already knew that Steve could handle how chaotic he could be, how much he loved the kids despite his loud protests, and he remembered all the talks about their asshole fathers who basically abandoned them. Eddie remembered waking up in the hospital and seeing Steve’s relieved red rimmed eyes. He knew without a doubt that Steve was a partner that he could depend on.

"Okay! I've decided that I'm just going to let this happen!" Eddie said, throwing up his hand. "But I can't be domesticated! I refuse!"

"Wouldn't have it any other way," Steve grinned.

"Also, during one of the dances, we're playing Metallica!" He yelled.

"Done!"

Steve leaned over the table and kissed Eddie, who didn't waste a second kissing him back. Yeah, he liked it, and he wasn't ever going to kiss anyone else. On some level, he had known that as soon as he had slammed Steve against the wall of that boathouse.

"Oh my God! I'm marrying Steve Harrington!"

TWO DAYS LATER. . .

Eddie was sprawled out on the couch in his brand new living room when Wayne came in, back from his fishing trip. Eddie frowned as he tried to remember what he was supposed to be doing.

"So, how'd the dinner with Steve go?" Wayne asked.

"Well, the food was so good that I asked Steve to marry me, and he said yes," Eddie said. "It's on August 30th, save the date."

"You're hilarious, son," Wayne said, rolling his eyes. "You should be a comedian."

Suddenly, Steve burst out of the kitchen, looking flustered.

"Okay, I decided to be the bigger person here. I'm going to invite my parents to the wedding," Steve said. "If they don't come, they don't come. Hopper's already agreed to walk me down the aisle. Oh, hey, Wayne. I hope you don't mind, I wanted to cook for my fiancé and my future father in law. How was the fishing trip?"

Wayne stared at him, blinking at Steve and then at Eddie. Wayne sighed, shaking his head.

"Not a goddamn bite. Waste of a trip," Wayne said.

"Damn," Steve said and looked at the kitchen. "I have to check on the food. Sorry. I want to hear more about it!"

"Smells good, son!" Wayne yelled and plopped down on the couch next to Eddie.

"You accepted that pretty quickly," Eddie said.

"You can't do better than Steve. He went to hell and back for you. He never left your side. . .he loves you, and I can't ask for a better partner for my boy. . .speaking of why aren't you in there helping your fella?" Wayne asked.

"He kicked me out," Eddie pouted.

"You almost took my head off with a skillet!" Steve exclaimed.

"I nearly took him out, and he still wants to be with me," Eddie sighed happily and tucked his head into Wayne's shoulder. "By the way, when you walk me down the aisle, you can't let me fall, you know how I am."

"I would never let you fall."

Eddie smiled. Despite everything that happened, that's still happening. . .Eddie was happy, and he was getting married to the most wonderful guy in the entire world. Suddenly, Eddie sat up.

"Oh, no," Eddie said.

"What?"

"We told Dustin and the kids, but I didn't think to tell Ronnie," Eddie gasped.

"You mean, your best friend since you were eight?" Wayne asked.

"Yeah, I am in deep - "

Suddenly, the front door slammed open, and Ronnie Ecker stood there in all her long-legged glory.

"You're getting married to Steve Harrington?!" She asked. "And I had to hear about it from a 12 year old?!"

"He's 14, actually," Eddie said casually. "How was the trip from New York?"

Eddie suddenly remembered the thing Robin had reminded him to do: don't forget to tell your platonic soulmate.

[rogueddie]

A gay bar is the last place Steve ever thought he'd be, yet here he sits.

He keeps looking over to Robin- not too much, just enough to keep an eye on her. Make sure she's still having fun. Although, he's sure he doesn't need to be worrying.

The girl who'd caught Robins eye is small, feminine. She looks like a sweetheart and she keeps getting Robin flustered. They're cute together, clearly into eachother, and Steve couldn't be happier.

Even sat alone, feeling completely out of place and a little uncomfortable, seeing Robin able to flirt with someone so openly is… he just feels relieved.

He should have thought to bring her here sooner.

"Hey there." The man smiles when Steve flinches. It's a soft smile, kind. "You wanna dance?"

"Oh, uh, I don't- I mean, uh-"

"Woah, don't panic. It's just a dance, right? You look uncomfortable is all and seeing you sat alone with your big fucking puppy dog eyes is just sad." He gently nudges Steves chin up when he tries to look down, feeling awkward. His finger lingers a little, brushing along his jaw. "You don't wanna have a fun night out? I won't be offended if you say no."

And, ok, Steve's a little tipsy. He's sure he'd never agree if he were sober- it wouldn't have felt fair. The guy is clearly attracted to him, not even trying to hide the way he's eyeing him.

But Steve's buzz is more annoying than pleasant and dancing does sound fun. So he agrees, accepts the hand offered and lets the guy pull him into the crowd.

The guy keeps his distance. Anytime the crowd jolts Steve toward him, he steps back the same amount, keeping a solid foot between them. But he's grinning, yelling jokes over the music, unabashedly dancing like an idiot.

It's great, it's fun. Steve can't stop grinning, stomach starting to ache with how much he's been laughing.

Eventually, a slower song comes on, stronger sexual undertones. The guy (Eddie, he'd leant in to tell Steve when asked, explaining that he knew Steve because they used to be in the same year as in Hawkins) shrugs, pulling an exaggerated face that screams 'what-can-you-do'. He's turning away.

But Steve grabs his wrist, Eddie looking back with raised eyebrows.

"This alright then, pretty boy?" He asks after stepping in close. His hands rest low on his hips.

Steve nods, flushing. He automatically puts his hands on his shoulders, letting Eddie lead him through a weirdly intimate sort of slow dance. And Steve is suprised to find himself… into it? He's not sure.

He feels less tipsy, so he can't blame the easy blushes or the way his stomach flips on the alcohol. There's no excuse for how he's started looking at Eddie either, paying a little too much attention to the way he moves, how his hands feel when they slowly start to wonder.

He gently brushes Eddies hair out the way without thinking, tucking it behind his ear so he can see the tattoo on his neck. Eddie tilts his head slightly, baring his neck a little more. When he glances up, Eddie is watching him, curiously.

"Hate to sound pressumptious," he drawls, taking a small step forward so their chests are pressed together, "but it feels like you're making moves on me, big boy."

"What if I am? What happens then?"

"Maybe I'd ask if you're sober enough to drive or if we need to call a cab." He leans back a little when Steve moves to kiss him. He hums, smirking. "Or maybe I'd ask for your number. I'm a classy lady, Harrington; what if I don't put out on the first date?"

"I've never said no to a challange."

Eddie barks out a laugh, loud enough to startle some of the people swaying beside them. "As if."

"What? You're like... pretty."

"Pretty," he repeats, rolling his eyes. "People know I'm a fag, Steve. Even being seen with me like we're 'just friends' would fucking ruin you."

"Your point?"

"You wouldn't dare."

"Wanna put money on that?"

Eddie eyes him for a second, his derision melting into curiosity. "You want to make a bet on whether you'll date me or not?"

"Why not? One of us wins money in a bet, we both score a date, and-"

"I thought you were straight."

"Yeah, me too. But I don't think straight guys think about you like I am, right now."

Eddie steps back, considering. It's a long, tense, moment before he finally sticks his hand out. Steve quickly shakes his hand, grinning.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[arandomao3user]

More freaky timbern?

Sigh... Do your parents not feed you? Guess I'll have to U_U

SEXUAL CONTENT AHEAD!!!

Bernard and Tim, making out in the corner of a sofa:

Dick, walking in: Hey T... REALLY!? IN THE FAMILY SITTING ROOM!?

Tim, panting as they break for air: Sorry, uno got intense.

Dick: This happened because of an uno game?

Bernard: We'll use any excuse, really.

—

Tim, slipping inside quietly:

Bernard, flicking on the lights: Are you injured?

Tim: No—

Bernard, instantly tackling him to the nearest flat surface to kiss him:

Tim: ?! Woah! Woah, you good? Are you okay?

Bernard: Yeah just really horny, your a#& looks great by the way.

Tim: Oh, okay—

Bernard: Sex?

Tim: Sex. Yeah. Continue.

—

Tam: You never looked at me like that when we dated.

Tim: You walked in on Bernard and I having sex in my office?

Tam: My point stands.

—

Tim, post getting his back blown out: . . . Is it psychological torture to eat a fish in front of a fish?

Bernard, just got done cleaning up: Fish are dumb.

—

Tim, cursing in French mid sex:

Bernard: Oh, that's hot.

—

Jason: Why are you in Crime Alley talkin' to the workin' ladies??

Bernard: I like to ask for tips.

Jason: . . . What?

Bernard: We exchange them, actually.

Jason: . . . YOU ASK THEM HOW TO PLEASURE MY LITTLE BROTHER!?

Bernard: They don't go around telling anyone. We talk politics, too, sometimes.

Jason: You're a weird little man.

Bernard: This little man f-#%$s your little brother!

Jason: i. . . y'know what? I'm with Dick now, STAY AWAY FROM MY BROTHER, FREAK!

Bernard: MAKE ME!

Jason, pulling out a gun:

Bernard, already running: Poor choice of words!

—

Bernard, sending a photo to the Young Justice group chat of him next to an unconscious, shirtless Tim with the caption "Guess what we just did!":

Kon, immediately replying: Twister.

Bart: Baking.

Cassie: Sex.

Bernard: Actually he got stabbed in the abdomen, he taught me how to do stitches! #CoupleGoals

—

Tim: Ugh, I think I have internal bruising...

Jason: Pfft, get your a#& kicked?

Tim: No, pounded.

Jason:

Tim:

Jason:

Tim:

Jason:

Tim: Karma for what happened at Titans Tower.

Jason:

—

Cass: I fear pregnancy, the loss of autonomy, control of my life? It scares me, the thought...

Tim: Damn, after Bern and I have unsafe sex I usually just pray to Cassie's aunts and uncles and list off the reasons I'd be a terrible parent.

—

Tim: We can either have sex or play Minecraft.

Bernard: . . . This is the hardest decision I've ever had to make.

Tim:

—

Tim, in his Red Robin uniform, straddling Bernard's lap and making out with him in an alleyway:

Bernard, pulling his hair:

Tim: Ugh... We should really stop.

Bernard: Mm, why, love dove? Don't need to if you feel good...

Tim: If we get caught Batman might actually kill you...

Bernard: I'd die a happy man~~

Barbara: Red Robin, you never turned your comm off.

Tim:

Barbara: I turned it off for you when Bernard started talking dirty to you, but you've traumatized Robin, and Batman is on his way.

Bernard: . . Tim?

Tim: F&#$!

—

[steddieas-shegoes]

sold out, one night only

for @corrodedcoffinfest popup event for Black Friday using 'one day night only'

rated m | 2980 words | cw: implied and referenced sexual content | tags: modern era, pop star steve, rock star eddie, semi-famous corroded coffin, exes to lovers, getting back together

🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤🎤

The poster is huge, takes up most of the board in the club announcing new events. It’s surprisingly simple for something so large.

‘One Night Only’ accompanied by a picture of Steve Harrington, recently out queer pop icon, and a date and time.

Tonight is the one night only.

Eddie stares at it, kind of wishes he didn’t feel like sobbing, and then books it out of the club.

If he’s gonna make it across town before Steve’s show is done, he’s gotta hope for the least amount of traffic he’s ever seen and a lot of luck. Maybe, if he’s really lucky, the show was delayed enough that he’s still on stage singing.

He manages to find an Uber only a block away, offers them a 50% tip if they can get him to the arena in less than five minutes, and leans his head back against the seat.

~~~~

Four years ago, when Steve followed Eddie and his band to Chicago, neither of them expected much to happen. Corroded Coffin was small town good, but they quickly found that they weren’t quite what record labels were looking for.

A small indie label from San Francisco was interested, though.

So they packed up and moved to California, and to celebrate the first recording session, they went to a karaoke bar and all took turns singing songs that you’d never expect them to.

Steve took a turn singing a Harry Styles song and it was game over.

The whole bar went silent until he was done, and then it was pandemonium as people rushed him as he got off the stage, telling him he should be famous, and that he had the voice of an angel, and that he should try to sign a record deal.

And Eddie knew he could sing; he’d heard him in the shower and the car plenty.

There was just something about seeing him on stage and knowing that Steve was meant for more that really cut into his heart and made him bleed out on that bar floor.

It was the beginning of the end for them that night.

Eddie pushed him away. Steve stopped fighting it.

Steve signed with a huge company out of New York and moved before Eddie even realized he ruined everything.

He hasn’t spoken to him since, not even the one time Dustin had to have surgery and requested everyone be back in Hawkins in case something went wrong. He was being dramatic about leg splints, but they did it anyway.

Eddie caught one glimpse of Steve walking out of the Henderson home the night that Dustin got to leave the hospital, but he didn’t stop him.

Corroded Coffin is big enough to do festival circuits, even playing on the main stage for some of them.

Steve Harrington is big enough to go to Grammy parties and duet with Sabrina Carpenter.

And Eddie is stupid enough to think he can get backstage to apologize to him for being dumb enough to let him walk away.

~~~~

When he arrives at the arena, he’s told he needs a ticket to enter. This is a fact he knew before getting here, but one he chose to ignore in hopes that he might be able to bribe someone with his romantic story.

Unfortunately, the middle aged man who reminds him a lot of Wayne couldn’t care less about his need to tell Steve he loves him.

“You and the 20,000 others in the audience, bud,” the man says. “No ticket, no entrance.”

“Okay, I know you probably hear this often, but I swear he knows me. He’d let me in,” Eddie explains, but the guy is somehow even less impressed. “Oh! Wait. I have proof.”

Eddie pulls out his phone and opens his photos. The album named ‘Stevie ♥️’ is still in his favorites, even though Robin made him promise he’d delete it after the last time she visited. He may have promised he would, but he never said when.

It’s hundreds of photos of them together, mostly selfies, personal pictures they took on dates or in bed or on their road trip or-

“I told you to delete those.”

Eddie spins around at Robin’s voice. She’s standing near the set of doors at the end of the long line of doors, two security guards flanking her.

“And I will. Eventually.” Eddie walks towards her, ignoring the man telling him he needs to leave.

“What are you doing here?” She asks even though she has to know.

She’s his friend even though she’s Steve’s platonic soulmate. She isn’t being mean on purpose. She’s just being protective of both of them.

“Robin…” he starts.

She holds up a hand. “If I take you backstage, will this be a one night only thing or a start to forever thing? Because honestly, I don’t think he can take seeing you if it’s only for you to leave right after. He’s barely-” She cuts herself off, eyes widening.

“He’s what?” Eddie pushes, needing to know what she was gonna say.

She sighs. He knew he’d get her to give in easily.

“He’s barely holding it together as it is,” she admits. “I had to bribe him to get on stage tonight.”

“Bribe him? For this show?”

“And the last dozen or so. He’s tired. He-” She sighs again, heavier. “He misses you.”

“If he misses me, then he should call. Or text. Send a carrier pigeon.” Eddie doesn’t mean for the words to bite, but he can’t help the way he feels and he knows he’s safe with Robin. She won’t take it personally or let him stew in it for too long. “It’s not like he doesn’t have access to me if he really wants it.”

“Eddie. You made it very clear you didn’t want to hear from him ever again.”

“I made it very clear that I loved him too much to hold him back. He was the one who pushed it to this,” Eddie tries.

He doesn’t succeed. Robin is shaking her head, laughing with disbelief.

“You two are made for each other. I’ll bring you backstage, but if I see a single tear shed in anything other than happiness, I’m calling Jeff and telling on you.”

Eddie can’t help but laugh. Calling Jeff isn’t quite the threat it used to be, not since Jeff got himself a very serious girlfriend who keeps him busy. Even if it was, Robin knows Jeff’s just gonna nod along, give Eddie a sad look, and move on.

He follows Robin through the door she came through, waving at the guard who was giving him a hard time– “he’s just doing his job, Eddie” – and feels his throat catch on his next breath when he can hear the beat of the music.

Steve’s pop rock sound isn’t necessarily Eddie’s favorite type of music, but he did stay up until midnight for the release of his debut album. It’s Steve. What’s he gonna do? Not listen to it?

His voice is just this side of raspy, like there’s a scratch of his throat when he hits the lower register his voice will allow. He almost sounds like when Eddie would-

“Alright. He’s got two songs left and an encore. Encore is usually just one song, but this is a special night so he may do a bonus from his new album. Don’t touch anything,” Robin sends him into the green room, waving off the security person who is standing at the door. “Don’t make me regret letting you in here. And don’t hurt yourself.”

“Jesus, Robbie, I’m not a child. I’m not gonna hurt myself-”

“I didn’t mean physically.” She gives him a sad look. “I care about you, too.”

Eddie’s shoulders fall as he breathes out. He didn’t realize how tense he’d been. Robin hugs him and moves to the door.

“I’ll make sure you guys have some privacy for a bit, but we do have a tight schedule. Security’s only here while the crew packs up,” she explains. Eddie nods. He knows the drill. He may not be an international pop star, but he deals with the ins and outs of venues often enough.

Robin leaves and the only sound is the bass thumping of Steve’s last song. Eddie looks around at how bare the room is. Usually, Corroded Coffin has to share a green room with a few other bands unless they pull off headlining the main stage. Those rooms are usually cluttered, crews and musicians constantly coming and going, leaving trash and guitar picks behind. The only thing in this room that would hint at Steve using it is a bag of half-eaten white cheddar popcorn on the table next to an empty water bottle and a mug of what looks like green tea.

Steve’s a big enough star to make absurd requests for backstage, but it’s clear he doesn’t. Eddie isn’t surprised. Steve’s never really been one to ask for things that would benefit him.

He hears the screaming, knows Steve’s just left the stage. He’s probably standing nearby, hiding behind curtains or stacks of speakers, maybe even in plain sight.

“Wait!” Robin’s voice is right outside the door.

The door opens.

Steve’s there, breathless, sweaty, hot as hell.

“Steve, you still have a song,” another woman in khakis and a polo shirt is rushing up to him, waving a clipboard in his face.

“Eddie.” Steve’s voice is rough when he speaks. Eddie can tell it’s more from emotion than the nearly two hour set list he just performed.

“Steve.” Eddie is waiting for Steve to move, for anyone to move. He can’t.

“Steve, you need to go back onstage.”

Eddie has his arms full of Steve before anyone can respond to the woman just trying to do her job. She looks like she’s a tech manager, but usually they wear all black, and Eddie doesn’t know all there is to know about an international superstar performing a concert even though he does know all there is to know about Steve.

He knows that he prefers earl gray tea with real sugar, not the green tea with honey that’s sitting on the coffee table. He knows that his favorite treats are the mini Kit Kats– “not the regular ones, they taste different, I swear!”-- not popcorn that gets stuck in his teeth for hours. He knows that he likes making places feel like home no matter how temporary he’s there, and there’s not a single item in this room that makes it feel lived in.

The woman seems to give up on getting Steve back on stage, and he’s pretty sure he has Robin to thank for it.

He has Steve in his arms for the first time in way too long. He isn’t wasting a second of it thinking about anyone else.

Steve’s sweat is soaking through Eddie’s shirt already, but he doesn’t really care. He used to love having Steve’s sweat on him; It meant he was doing something right.

He knows a reunion isn’t this easy, and any second now, Steve’s gonna pull away and yell at him, and they’ll fight and Eddie will let it happen because he deserves it and-

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Steve sobs against his neck, breath tickling his skin as his lips brush against him in an almost-kiss.

Suddenly, Eddie knows that Steve planned this. This whole sold out, one night only show was only so Eddie would come see him.

Eddie should be pissed.

Steve could have just fucking called him. Texted him. Sent a carrier pigeon!

But he’s got Steve in his arms and it’s always been pretty hard to be pissed at him when he’s pressed perfectly against his chest.

Robin is clearing the room and cursing Steve for making her clean up his messes, but Eddie can hear the fondness in her voice. She wouldn’t bother giving them time alone together if she didn’t want them to have it.

“Robin said I shouldn’t do it. She said you wouldn’t show.” Tears are falling from Steve’s eyes on Eddie's shirt. “I swore you would. She thought I was crazy.”

“You are crazy,” Eddie laughs, squeezing his arms to pull him in tighter. “Planning something this big in the hopes that I’d come to a pop concert is fucking insane, Stevie.”

“But you did.” Steve leans back and looks at him, watery smile enough to make Eddie feel like he could melt into the floor. “I knew you would.”

Eddie wants to kiss him, wants to ignore everything that went wrong and everything they need to talk about, wants to take Steve apart in this room and make it feel like home because Steve didn’t do that on his own. He doesn’t think he’s made any place feel like home in a long time.

“You put a lot of faith in a guy who let you go,” Eddie whispers.

“You showed up for a guy who left,” Steve says back.

“You only left because I pushed you away,” Eddie argues.

“You only pushed me away because you thought it was best for me,” Steve raises a brow, challenging him to keep going.

Eddie knows Steve has a response for everything, though. He’ll keep putting blame on himself the same way Eddie keeps putting it on himself, and they’ll go round and round and waste precious time that they could be doing other things. Instead of pushing, Eddie sighs and lets his shoulders drop.

“I’m sorry,” he says instead of arguing.

“I’m sorry, too,” Steve relaxes in his arms.

“We still have to talk, Stevie,” Eddie reminds him as he leans in, feels Steve’s breath against his lips.

“We will,” Steve barely gets out before their lips crash together, bruising and needy.

There’s a lot that Eddie missed about Steve. He’s spent countless hours harping over everything he messed up to himself, to Robin, to Wayne, to the band. Steve was forever going to be the one that got away.

“Can we…” Steve gasps against his mouth, hands grasping at every inch of Eddie that they can.

“What do you need?” Eddie wraps his fingers around Steve’s wrists to still him, to make him focus on what he wants.

“Just need you.”

It’s a cop out and they both know it, but Eddie’s fine with it tonight. If he has to be the one to take charge and assume what Steve wants, then he will. For tonight, he can give Steve what he wants to, and Steve will take it.

It’s a little anticlimactic when they come barely five minutes later. They don’t even get a chance to properly remove any clothing before they’re making a mess between them, moaning as if they can’t be heard.

As they come down, and Eddie manages to find a rag that may or may not have been used for other things already, Eddie sees Steve wipe his eyes.

He stops what he’s doing and drops the rag on the floor, pulling Steve close again.

“What’s wrong?” He asks because he can’t let Steve leave him again. Not this time.

“I just don’t want this to be one night only,” Steve cries.

“It won’t be, sweetheart,” Eddie assures him, brushing the fresh tears away as they fall. “We’re gonna figure out how to make it work. The band doesn’t have anything for the next few weeks, so we’ve got time, okay?”

“But I have to leave tomorrow. I have a GQ interview in London,” Steve pouts.

Eddie tries not to be distracted by his bitten-red lips, but they’re just so…biteable.

“I could go to London,” Eddie offers, only slightly joking.

Steve’s eyes light up. “You can?”

“I mean, I can definitely blow some of my savings to follow you around for a bit,” Eddie shrugs.

“As if I’d let you pay.” Steve’s beaming at him. “You really wanna come with me? Even though people will start spreading rumors and it’ll ruin your metal band image?”

“Baby, I’ll stand on that stage right now and scream to everyone who will listen that I’m yours.”

There’s still time to do that, too. Even though it can’t have been more than 20 minutes since Steve left the stage, he has no doubt that there are plenty of stragglers in the arena hoping for Steve to still come out and perform his encore.

“Some fans are kind of-”

“Crazy?” Steve nods. “That’s because you’re perfect. But they can’t have you, right? Not like I can.”

“No. Nobody gets to have me like you do.”

If Robin wasn’t banging on the door to warn them they only had five minutes, Eddie would be trying for another round. Maybe this time, he’d get his mouth on Steve instead of just his hand.

“I guess we should get to the car before fans figure out I’m still here,” Steve suggests. “And before Robin kills us both.”

“Imagine that news story,” Eddie laughs. “Best friend and manager of pop icon Steve Harrington charged with double homicide after seeing more dicks than she’s ever seen in her life.”

“Bold of you to assume she hasn’t seen mine,” Steve laughs as he pulls away. When he sees Eddie’s shocked face, he pats his cheek. “I sleep naked, babe. You knew that.”

Eddie’s face goes back to normal quickly. “Still? I thought that was just so I would-”

“I’m coming in!” Robin shouts as she opens the door. Steve turns away to finish buttoning his pants, but Eddie’s soft dick is right out in the open.

“Seriously?” Robin groans.

Eddie finishes making himself presentable and smirks. “You’ve seen what he’s got. You can’t blame me.”

“I can and I will. Car’s already surrounded, so. Hope you’re good with a hard launch.”

Eddie looks at Steve to check in. Steve gives him a nod.

“Blast off, I guess.”

[msfantasy-comics]

The Cruel to be Kind

Tim Drake x Reader

Summary: A story in which Tim is cruel to you in order to be kind

A/n: Y/n is depicted as the popular girl. Admittedly, after the rooftop scene I kinda got fatigued from writing …

Warning: sexually suggestive.

Your friendship with Gotham’s beloved hero, Robin, was mysterious, to say the least.

The first time you met Boy Wonder, his eyes darted around nervously while you stood in stunned silence on your apartment rooftop. Gotham’s golden boy, stuttering and stumbling over rushed apologies for disturbing your night.

A soft smile tugs at your lips as you recall the memory—when Robin was shy and sweet, so unlike the confident vigilante he is now.

“Well, well, what’s got you all smirking?” Robin’s voice calls out as he swings down from the ledge, loud and cocky as always.

You sigh, already surrendering to his teasing. “I was thinking about when we first met. You were so shy back then.”

You watch, amused, as his ego visibly inflates.

“You just can’t stop thinking about me, can you?” he grins smugly. “Admit it—you want me, don’t you?”

He wiggles his brows, and you can’t help but laugh. The spark of courage bubbles up. “So what if I do?”

For the first time ever, Robin falls completely silent. His eyes lock onto yours, wide and unsure. You feel a twinge of regret—maybe you went too far? But before you can take it back, a booming laugh bursts out of him, like you just told the best joke he’s ever heard.

“Don’t tease me like that, Y/n,” he chuckles, then softens, his tone turning almost reverent. “My poor little heart couldn’t take any false hope… not when it’s already yours.”

“I’m not teasing.”

He stills again, brows furrowing as if trying to figure out whether you’re serious. Your words hang heavy in the air, crossing the line that had long kept your banter safely flirtatious. Neither of you had dared to go beyond it—until now.

“I’m tired of pretending this is all a game,” you continue, heart pounding. “I like you, Robin. Romantically.”

You search his face, desperate to know if he’ll laugh again—if he’ll wave it off as another joke. His mouth opens, then closes. His eyes flicker across your face, searching for signs of insincerity. But there are none.

You exhale sharply. “Why do you always act like you want to be with me, but the second I say how I feel, you pull away?”

He doesn’t respond. Just stares out at the city, shoulders heavy.

“Because I can’t be with you,” he says quietly.

“Why the hell not?” Your voice is sharper than you intended, but you don’t care. He’s never heard you like this.

“Because I’m a vigilante,” he murmurs, eyes still on the skyline. “I’m dangerous. I can’t risk your life.”

He takes a slow breath. “I’ve seen what happens when heroes fall in love with civilians. Once the mask comes off, the mystery disappears. You’ll see I’m just a guy. Nothing special.”

The silence stretches again—painfully long—until you finally find your voice.

“Is that really what you think of me? That I’m so shallow I’d stop caring about you once I see who you are underneath the mask?”

You step back, a bitter taste in your mouth.

“If you never intended to be with me, why visit every night? Why make me feel like this meant something?” Your voice cracks, anger and heartbreak rising. “You acted like it was real. Like we were real. But now that I’ve said something, you get cold feet? I feel so stupid. You should just go.”

You turn away, face burning with embarrassment, blinking back the sting in your eyes.

“I’m sorry, Y/n,” he says softly. “Sometimes… you have to be cruel to be kind. It’s better this way.”

And just like that—he’s gone.

You were utterly mystified by the whole situation. Your heart weighed heavily with a mix of confusion and disappointment, and as much as you tried, you couldn’t reason why Robin had made the decision he did.

If he’d truly decided that he couldn’t be with you, then he should never have toyed with your heart in the first place—should never have coaxed it open just to walk away once it was laid bare. You couldn’t fault his reasoning, not entirely, but the way he misrepresented his intentions grated on you deeply. If he didn’t want anything beyond surface-level flirting, he shouldn’t have shown up at your balcony every night at exactly 7 PM with all that smoldering intensity. He shouldn’t have made you feel like he needed you, like he wanted you.

Weeks passed. You hadn’t seen him since. And while you were somewhat glad—relieved even—there was no denying the pang of disappointment that still tugged at your chest.

You were at a gala, scrolling absentmindedly through your phone, trying not to admit you were checking for any recent sightings of the Boy Wonder, when the loud music jarred you out of focus. You bumped into someone.

“Oh—sorry, Tim,” you muttered, awkwardly glancing up and hoping you hadn’t mistaken him for the wrong Wayne.

“Uh—yeah—no problem,” Tim replied quickly, eyes darting away awkwardly. You figured he didn’t remember your name.

“It’s Y/n,” you offered helpfully.

“Yeah—I know. I mean, everyone knows your name…”

You shifted uncomfortably. Tim seemed to realise how that sounded.

“Not in a weird way,” he added quickly. “It’s just… you’re kind of famous.”

“I wouldn’t say that.”

Tim snorted. “Please. You’re Gotham’s most popular socialite. You have literal fan clubs.”

You groaned, face heating up with secondhand embarrassment.

The whole interaction made you pause. Tim’s awkwardness—it was eerily familiar. It reminded you of someone else, someone who used to stumble over his words when he first showed up on your rooftop every night.

His gaze shifted to your phone.

“You a Robin fan?” he asked, and your heart pinched at the name.

“Ah, yeah, I guess… I don’t know.” You chuckled awkwardly. “I used to see him running around the rooftops all the time. Lately, I haven’t. I just got a little nervous, y’know? Like… something happened.”

God, why were you oversharing?

Tim smiled kindly at your flustered honesty. “Well, I can assure you he’s fine. I actually see him pretty often—Bruce is, uh, one of Batman’s biggest benefactors. Anyway, come on, let’s drink.”

The rest of the night became a blur.

Gin, champagne, laughter.

You and Tim wandered from the party and found yourselves walking the gardens, where playful banter turned into something more.

Maybe it was the alcohol or the comfort of his familiar energy, but you grabbed his collar and pressed your lips to his.

Tim kissed you back without hesitation.

Suddenly, you were straddling his lap on a garden bench, frantically clutching at each other, lips pressed, hands wandering, both of you desperate for something more.

Maybe not love—but certainly escape.

That was all until he released a throaty chuckle.

It was unmistakably his.

It couldn’t have been, could it?

It might be the alcohol misleading you but it had to be him, right?

But despite the train of thought that delivered you to that destination, you remain firmly planted in Tim’s lap, not daring to let him leave again.

“Take me on a date.” You demanded despite Tim’s frantic kissed planting along any of your exposed skin.

“Love nothing more.” He agreed.

You woke up with that giddy feeling buzzing in your stomach.

Later that day, you were supposed to meet Tim for a date. You got dressed, did your makeup, and waited at the little Italian place he’d picked… but he didn’t show up.

The news played silently on the diner’s mounted TV: Robin seen fighting the Riddler atop Wayne Tower.

He messaged you later with profuse apologies and asked to make it up to you.

You said yes.

This time, he invited you to a movie. You waited outside the theater, bouquet of his apology flowers in hand… and scrolled to see a news alert: Robin seen pursuing the Joker through downtown Gotham.

Another apology. Another reschedule.

Third time’s the charm, right?

You found yourself at an extravagant picnic set up on the hilltop overlooking Gotham. It was romantic, quiet… and empty. Thirty minutes passed.

You started eating alone.

Another notification lit up your phone: Robin in combat with Poison Ivy at Gotham Botanical Gardens.

You’d just popped a grape in your mouth when you heard footsteps pounding toward you. Tim skidded into view, slightly breathless, slightly sweaty.

“I’m so sorry I’m late. I had another meeting.”

You didn’t even look up. “That’s okay, Robin—I know you’d be here on time if you could.”

He froze. “Huh? What? No—I… Wait. What?”

You glanced at him, expression deadpan.

“Please, Tim. That tiny mask and skin-tight suit weren’t fooling anyone. Not your voice, not your hair… definitely not your cologne.”

Tim blinked. “Oh… right.”

You raised a brow. “Some ‘normal guy,’ huh?”

He groaned. “Shush, you.” He retorts, pulling you in for a kiss which you gladly returned.

[butchhamlet]

do you have any good shakespeare retelling book recs?

what a beautiful time to ask this, says guy who has left this ask collecting cobwebs in his inbox for months! because guess who has two thumbs and just finished queen goneril by erin shields! WHAT a fucking play, holy SHIT, this is some of the best characterization of the lear sisters that i've ever read and the exploration of womanhood as filtered through class + race + shitty families + political maneuvering is so so so good. also the things shields does with the og playtext... chef's fucking KISS

anyway, recency bias aside, i've been meaning to make a post about my favorite shakespeare retellings for a while, and i think i never actually did it because i wanted to make a lear retelling ranking list and then i never read some of the ones on my TBR. so whatever. the learlist will happen someday. here are my favorites in general. (here is my goodreads shelf for the retellings i've read, good and bad, and here is the shelf for the ones i have yet to read.)

in no particular order:

a thousand acres by jane smiley: outsold. epitome of what makes an effective retelling--a book that clearly has something to say about and to the original text, but that also isn't afraid to diverge, to exclude here and zoom in there. ungraciously, this is "lear on a farm" and it starts a little slow, but holy fucking shit, i can't do justice in a paragraph to the way this book unraveled me. one of the best books of all time mayhaps. also, introduced the edmund character by describing his ass. 10/10

the last true poets of the sea by julia drake: i don't read that much YA anymore but jesus fucking christ. books tailored for me specifically. twelfth night retelling about siblings + mental illness + being bisexual + love triangles that actually make sense (emotions are confusing!) instead of being contrived + beautiful description + excellent dialogue + THE MENTAL ILLNESS. books that made me start crying in zoom class in 2020

rosencrantz and guildenstern are dead by tom stoppard: kind of a cop-out answer because we all know this one. but that does not detract from how good it is. this is one of those plays, at least for me, that makes me think, "ohhhhhh, THIS is what theater can do. this is using its medium to the absolute utmost." it is so clever and it makes me want to cry. i think about "i don't know. it's the same sky" more often than i can say

american moor by keith hamilton cobb: not exactly a retelling, but a one-man play about a Black man auditioning for the lead role in Othello, tangling as he does with his relationship with shakespeare's work and cultural dominance. suuuuuch a good fucking play even beyond the analysis of othello (which is excellent); the language is so fucking incredible. everyone who likes shakespeare should read this.

teenage dick by mike lew: modern teenage richard iii; this one's more reimagining than retelling, because it diverges pretty sharply from the plot of richard iii, but god, it's so fucking fun. and upsetting! really upsetting also.

foul is fair by hannah capin: i will be so real. i read this in high school and some of the YA books i've revisited since did not hold up for me. so idk if i can tell you this is "good" with my full chest. but the pitch is "lady macbeth gets sexually assaulted at a party and decides to fucking kill the boys who did it" and i stayed up until like 1am to finish it because it was such a vicious gleaming wild ride

the stars undying by emery robin: does this count? hard to say, because it's just as much a retelling of roman history than shakespeare's antony and cleopatra (honestly, more, since it focuses on the era where caesar and cleopatra were lovers, which is before shakespeare's play). but i'm counting it anyway because it's bisexual space opera cleopatra and it's the best book i've read so far in 2024 and it's making me crazy and i'm writing a thesis on it < genuinely

peerless by jihae park: macbeth, but college applications, featuring asian macbeths (they're twin sisters >:3) who think their classmate has taken their place in their dream school because of affirmative action/DEI. this play is absolutely VICIOUS. it's macbeth x heathers. think it mirrors macbeth in faltering a little in its final stretch, but it still fucks hard

the wednesday wars by gary d. schmidt: okay, not a retelling; this is about a preteen boy in the 60s. but it's one of the best most genuine and heartwarming books i've ever read and it manages to be hilarious while also foregoing cheap slapstick punching-low humor for a hell of a lot of warmth and passion. and the main character interacts with shakespeare a lot as a running theme so i can justify putting it on this list. #evangelizing

of course, i would be remiss not to mention that @suits-of-woe / @mjulianwrites has written the best take on Two Gentlemen of Verona to ever exist, and i mean that quite seriously. unfortunately it hasn't been published yet so we'll all just have to prayer-circle about it. i would also be remiss not to take the opportunity to. uh. coughs. do a bit of casual self-promo. if you 1. have ocd 2. have gender or 3. think about malvolio a lot. boy do i have the novella for you

will definitely add to this when i read more retellings; feel free to drop recs in the tags/replies/reblogs/my askbox!

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @stobinmonth and @corrodedcoffinfest.

We've Been Over This

Stobin Month Prompt: Prom & CCF Spring Break Prompt: "I've got two words for you. Spring. Break." | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: M | POV: Steve | Pairing: Platonic Stobin, Pre-Steddie, Robin Pining for Vickie | CW: Mention of Temporary Character Death, Brief Vamp Biting/Feeding, Mild Sexual Content, Language | Tags: Post S4, Hawkins Sticking Its Head In The Sand, Vampire Eddie, Dinguses x 3

"Vickie's taking her boyfriend to Enzo's for the alternative prom thing," Robin says. "I can't believe we're even having prom."

"What? Why?" Steve asks.

"I've got two words for you: Spring. Break," then she rolls her eyes, "The town's still falling into itself, or haven't they noticed?"

"Yeah, but they don't know what really happened. They want to get dressed up and fuck in motel rooms. You know. High school."

"That's not everybody's high school experience, believe me," Robin says, then thunks her forehead to the table, mumbling, "I can't believe I actually want to go."

Steve's ears perk up at that, "You, Robin Buckley, want to go to the prom?"

"Shut up," she says, "Like, I'm not. Obviously. But I could, like, see her in a pretty dress."

"And you'd be wearing a dress? Borrowed from Nancy?"

"Absolutely not, you saw what she made me wear last time."

Steve smiles, "You should go. Eat. Look at Vickie."

"I'm not going to the prom alone, dingus. I'm a loser, but I'm not that big of one."

"I'll take you," Steve says, easily. Like, he can do that. He's not scared of prom. 

"We're not going to prom. We have other things to worry about," she says. "Dustin is adamant Eddie's a vampire."

"Eddie's not a vampire. Eddie's dead."

"Tell Dustin that."

"Henderson's trying to cope, leave him alone."

"Well, Gareth thinks so, too," Robin says. 

"Who's Gareth?" Steve asks. 

Robin rolls her eyes, "Curly hair, bit of a yapper."

"That's Henderson."

"That's also Gareth," Robin says. "He's in Eddie's band. Corroded Coffin. The drummer."

"Oh. Him," Steve says dryly. He doesn't care for that kid. Every time he's approached Steve, he's been all arrogant, and Steve wants nothing to do with it.

Eddie died, and Steve feels like that's his fault. He doesn't need some kid he doesn't know disappointed in him.

He feels that enough with Henderson, thanks.

"I'll take you to prom. Get a dress. Or slacks. Whatever," he declares, and as far as he's concerned, that's that.

Prom over, Steve's taking off his rented tux while Robin changes in the bathroom, when he catches movement outside his window. He whips towards it, expecting nothing. He's used to jumping at his own shadow. 

Instead, there are feet. Floating feet, near the top of his window. Black boots, untied laces.

He's imagining things. Boots don't float. 

Still, he reaches for his nailbat. He was hoping he wouldn't need this so soon, or ever, again.

He looks upwards, seeing the ripped jeans, the bullet belt. He taps on the glass.

Eddie floats down.

"Uh, hi, I thought I was hidden," he says, bobbing there.

"Like a baby playing peek-a-boo? I could see your feet."

"Shut up. I'm just saying hi."

"You're floating," Steve says, as if that's not obvious, following his every move. It seems rhythmic.

"Yeah, I can do that now," Eddie says, muffled through the glass.

Steve pulls up the window, even if it's a bad idea. Eddie doesn't move.

"You'll have to invite me in," Eddie says, "if you aren't scared."

"I'm not scared," Steve says. He's terrified, but it also seems like Eddie. He's never claimed to make good decisions.

"Henderson said you were a vampire."

"Yeah, Gareth told me," Eddie says. "Not sure how he figured it out. I've been laying low."

"Yeah, hovering outside my window is really laying low. Get in here, asshole."

And just like that, Eddie grabs a hold of the frame, and pulls himself inside. 

"Are you gonna kill me?" Steve asks.

"Wasn't planning on it," Eddie answers, flopping on Steve's bed, crossing his feet at the ankles. He's filthy. "Why so fancy?"

Steve pulls the necktie loose, "Robin's prom."

"You're dating Buckley? What happened to Wheeler?"

"I'm not dating either of them," Steve answers. He's not explaining their fake date to a fake prom.

He starts unbuttoning his shirt.

Eddie makes a noise, a guttural growl, and Steve slowly turns around, "I thought you said you weren't gonna kill me."

"I'm not," Eddie answers, but his eyes are blown wide, and have slipped from deep brown to yellow, his face changing.

"Eddie," Steve stresses, "your face says otherwise."

Eddie holds up his hands, and swallows, "I can hear your blood pumping. Can see your big, sexy neck veins pulsing."

Steve laughs, tossing back his head, and that makes Eddie groan louder.

"Harrington, you're killing me. This's like a second puberty. And I'm starving, while you're just laying out a buffet."

Oh.

Steve stops laughing.

"Do you…do you want to bite me?"

Eddie covers his eyes with his hands.

"I can still see you. We've been over this."

"I'm not gonna bite you," Eddie says, and now he has a lisp because of the fangs. It's not scary, it's funny, and Steve isn't sure why. He's something that crawled out of the depths of hell, just like a demodog, changed, mutated, but…it's Eddie.

He's pretty sure it's still Eddie.

"That's not what I asked. I asked if you wanted to bite me."

"Are you offering?" 

"Maybe."

Steve sits next to him, baring his throat, "Don't kill me." 

Eddie sinks his fangs in at the same time Robin opens the door, and screams bloody murder. 

Steve yanks away. He'd forgotten she was here. Now his neck's bleeding, and Eddie's scrambling.

"Sorry!" he lisps.

"Eddie IS a vampire!" Robin yells, and reaches for something, anything, coming up with Steve's lamp. It's still plugged in, but Steve is more worried about his bleeding neck. "You enthralled him!"

"I didn't mean to!" Eddie says, hands up.

"My neck," Steve says, and Robin and Eddie both move at once. Robin's yanked back by the cord, so Eddie gets there first. Peeling back Steve's hand. 

Tongue pressing to the wounds, fangs sliding back in, and Steve tilts his head back, dick going hard in his slacks.

Oh.

That's new.

He closes his eyes, ignoring Robin's unasked for two cents:

"Oh, that's just gross."

Steve definitely disagrees.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries, check out @corrodedcoffinfest to read takes on Spring Break prompts, or to offer up your own!

For more Stobin, pop on over to @stobinmonth to follow along with the fun!

Notes: The floating outside the window is definitely inspired by the 1992 Buffy the Vampire Slayer movie. I loved it as a kid. Campy fun. "Oooh, aahhhh. Owww. Oooh." I feel like Eddie the Vamp would also be that kind of drama llama, for sure, lol.

[glutominnn]

Y'all ever thought about how Sydney change from being this innocent sweet church boy who don't even know what sex is, to an insatiable sex-crazed maniac who also constantly reminds you that you did this (whatever this is, depends on you) and pretty much gaslights that you have it coming to you.

The first time i played the game and corrupted him, I was flabbergasted by his sudden change in behaviors, although the player, us, is fully aware of our choices, the PC however, might not (again, depends).

The reasons why I find myself liking Sydney corrupted version isn't even about his constant craving for carnal pleasure and his openness about sexuality, but more like, I adore how even called "Corrupted", Sydney is very much still have conscience and a sense of rightessness in him, even showing worries for Whitney or Robin if they haven't show up at school. Pure!Sydney also have this, but the difference is, if Pure!Sydney is just gonna give you a pat on the back and tell you to hang on, Corrupted!Sydney will physically want to seek out the person who harmed you.

It's just make the whole Prayer room scene even more traumatic for PC, who would have thought Sydney, who is even no longer an innocent boy still normally very calm and level-headed, would physically beat you into submission if you don't let him have his way.

It's just... kinda felt like betrayal ya know? How he always tells you that you made him who he is, like he have every rights to do this, to have this like you OWNED him, a price to pay for the things you did (doesn't matter intentionally or not) to him. After all, he loved you, yes, but also I feel like living in a town like that have twisted his mindset and how he perceive if someone should take responsibility for his own sexual awakening, consented or not. It's just, really another level of fucked up when you think about it, but also expected since it's been clear you can never really have a completely normal and healthy relationship with any of the LIs in this game lmao

[little-annie]

NSFW STEDDIE & STOBIN TEXT CHAIN

Steve normal text. Robin’s Bold. Eddie's Italicized Bold

---

___Bird Brain___

Rob

Bobby

Bobin

What? Im literally right next to you

And were at work Dingus get off of your phone.

No.

I'm. Uh.

?

You know the shop across the street???

?

The mecanic

Mecanic

Fuck

Mechanic

Okay.

They have a new guy

Okay.

And?

Gay.

Literally, what?

I think I'm gay.

Steve

Cuz like he's just so pretty

Steven

And that Haut

Stephanie

Hair

Hey whore

Wut

Bathroom talk. Now.

Were working.

You and I both know no one rents movies on a Tuesday at 10am

Bathroom.

Now.

To the porcelain thrown

You know sometimes I forget youre an idiot 20 something

then you go and say shit like that

…

Bitch.

Whore.

---

How do I tell if a mans gay or whatever its is that I am,

,

Fuck

?

Bi schedule

Bi sexual

Ducking auto correct

Babe. I hate to break it to you but your auto correct is as dyslexic as you are. You basically train it

I-

Huh.

Well ghen.

Anywho.

Gay.

Whats he wear? Any piercings? Tattoos? Whats his hair like?

Oh! This is important. DOES. HE. HAVE. A. HANKY. IN. A. BACK. POCKET???

black overalls and a black shirt. Lots. I think. His ears literally look shiny from across the street. Lots of tattoos too.

And yes??? What's that have to do with anything? My papa had a hanky and I'm pretty she he wasn't gay

He probably was. Being Bisexual is genetic.

Actually?

No Dingus.

But like the man was in the navy? Right?

Ya

Gay.

Stfu

ANYWAY

HANKY.

YES.

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

FUCK YEAH.

WHATS IT LOOK LIKE AND WHAT POCKET?

???

it's black

Oh hes kinky

What side pocket

It switches.

I bet it does

Gay.

That is a gay man Steven.

Go get your dick sucked or your booty bumped or whatever it is the kids are doing these days.

Eating ass

EXCUSE

yeah. It's a thing.

:0

Robin you literally munch so much carpet. whats the difference if its the rug at the back door.

Never.

Ever.

Say.

That.

Again.

Bubble bath privileges revoked.

You whore.

---

The bath is sad with no bubbles Bob.

Make your own.

…

Okay. Ew. Stop. Stink ass. I can hear you. And the neighbors probably can too.

Are you sorry?

Not really.

Well pretend to be.

Kay.

IM SO SORRY

…

:’(

better

Your bubble bath is under the sink

:D

---

Eddie

Wut.

Thats your new lovers name.

WUT

ROBIN.

WHAT DID YOU DO.

---

*1 new message* Hi -the weirdo with long hair who works across the street (Eddie)

---

I hate you

BTW babe you have a date on Tuesday

ROBIN IT IS TUESDAY

oh ya.

Well you have a date today gay boy

…

I need to leave

The fuck you do

Yeah. I fucking do.

I need to shower

And shave

And

I dont know

What do you do before a gay date

Prep?

For what?

Oh honey

---

Should this hurt?

8⁰

Don't tell me

Are u?

Yes.

Shut up.

…

Does it hurt

Like.

Kinda?

Lube. Oh my god. LUBE. Steve I swear to Dolly, if youre prepping your fucking asshole right now, IN THE FUCKING WORK BATHROOM

I

WILL

END

YOU

:*

Youre a whore. Oh my god.

STEVEN I CAN HEAR YOU.

STOP.

This is nice.

Why havent I done this before.

Where's the protest

Prostate

Rob?

Brain me. Educate me please.

…

Nvm

Oh fuck

Found it

Definitely found it

ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME

like good for you babe. I love you and support you but OH MY GOD YOU WHORE GET YOUR FINGERS OUT OF YOUR ASS WERE AT WORK.

…

You really think Id do that

Obviously

Im fucking with you

Im just googling shit and well taking a shit.

Fuck you

Love you

---

*2 New messages.* um. So. Im Eddie. Your coworker. Robin? Gave me your number and said we're going out tonight???

---

Dingus have you answered your husband yet

FUCK. NO. WHAT DO I SAY.

well you could send him a picture of your ass

Or your tits

Or your weeeen

Or all of the above

Like a package deal

Hehe. Package.

Robin.

Ugh. Wut.

Be serious.

Fiiiiine. Introduce yourself. Tell him youre excited for tonight. Make a plan for your date. (Other than the reservation I booked you at Enzos) and then tell him you thi know hes pretty and you want to have his babys.

He is pretty.

And like. Id definitely let him try to get me pregnant

ANSWER HIM.

FINE.

---

___Future Husband___

um. Hi. First of all I'm so sorry for my friend. She likes to get her nose into my business. Second.

…

Ithinkyourereallyprettyandimexcitedfortonight.

At the risk of being too forward. I like literally saw you my first day at the shop and have wanted to talk to you since. Cuz. Yeah. Pretty doesnt even begin to explain what you are. Like. Bro. Have my babies.

FUCK

I CANT BELIEVE I SAID THAT

disregard the baby thing

I dont know about getting pregnant. But Im up for practice.

Like.

If you are???

8⁰

… like

Now?

My breaks in 20

Fuck

Really?

Meet me at the van across the street

:*

---

___Bird Brain___

STEVE

STEVEN

YOU WHORE

ARE YOU GETTING YOUR BACKDOOR RUG MUNCHED ???

OMG

YOU ARE

THE VAN ACROSS THE STREET IS SHAKING

AND ID BET YOUR LEFT NUT THAT YOURE IN IT

…

GET IT I GUESS BABE

DONT GET PREGNANT

OR DO

YOU DO YOU BOO

…

youre on your own for the rest of the day Birdie

And where the fuck do you think youre going

Eddies

…

Boo you whore

But like. Get it babe.

But I also hate you.

I dont want to work in this shithole alone

Steven

Answer me

Hi Robin

This is Eddie

On Steves phone

Steve's a little… preoccupied

OH MY GOD

WHAT HAVE I DONE

YOU TWO ARE GOING TO BE DISGUSTING

BUT BRO. ILL END YOU IF YOU BREAK HIS HEART

STRAIGHT UP DIG YOU A GRAVE IN THE DITCH AND BURN OFF YOUR FINGERPRINTS AND BREAK YOUR TEETH SO NO ONE CAN IDENTIFY YOUR BODY.

COLD CASE BRO

what would you do about my tattoos

Fuck you

Sorry. Positions taken.

Id burn your whole body. No skin = no tattoos

I like the way you think

But in all seriousness

Mmmm imma gonna marry this boy

Hopefully before the end of the week

Fuck yeah

I call best man

[wheneverfeasible]

The Beast With Two Backs

wc: 2.7k || rating: M || cw: infidelity/cheating, implied alcohol abuse, minor sexual content || ships: Steve/OMC, Steve/Eddie, Robin/Vickie (minor/side) || tags: Modern AU, College AU, no Upside Down, angst with a happy ending || ao3

Steve remembered, as a child, his mother warning him of the beast with two backs. She’d been drunk on the expensive champagne she had bought for her and his father’s ten year anniversary dinner. He was supposed to be going over to Tommy’s for the night after his father got home from work, except he had called off, saying he had some important paperwork he had to do.

Even Steve could hear the shrill laughter on the other side of the phone that his father barely tried to shush.

His mom had gotten a little too drunk to drive him to the Hagans’ now, and too drunk to call them and tell them that, so Steve did instead. He promised Tommy he’d see him tomorrow, but that his mom wasn’t feeling good. Tommy had been annoyed, but it was whatever. He needed to take care of his mom first. He promised he’d see him tomorrow though.

His mother was halfway through the bottle when she bemoaned the beast, warning Steve never to fall prey to it, to never become the beast that ruined a poor girl’s life. To never trap someone in a life they didn’t want because he wouldn’t ’wrap it up’.

It wasn’t until he was a little bit older and discovered how long a pregnancy took that he began wondering about the fact that his tenTh birthday was only five months after what should have been his parents’ ten year anniversary dinner.

When he became sexually active in high school, he always made certain to use rubbers, or found his partner’s pleasure in other ways. Later, after his falling out with Tommy and his new friendship with Robin, things got even better when he realized he could like boys too. There was no risk of pregnancy with most boys. Entering college opened a whole new ballpark for him.

It was where he met his boyfriend. He and Robin were working their part time job, where he’d met her, and his future boyfriend had strode in, caught sight of him in those ridiculous blue shorts, and the rest was history he supposed. The guy was ripped jeans and band tees and everything his parents would hate. Steve possibly fell in love at first sight.

It had been fantastic, at first. His boyfriend would serenade him, would take him out to bars and dance with him in public, and would promise to always love Steve.

And then Steve’s boyfriend made a new friend who he spoke to all the time through text messages he wouldn’t let Steve see. Suddenly, his boyfriend wasn’t around as often. Suddenly, his boyfriend started missing dates, calling to tell him he had coursework he had to do. There was never laughter at the other, but Steve’s insides squirmed.

His boyfriend told him he was being delusional. Paranoid. That there wasn’t anything to worry about. Steve had met the friend who touched his boyfriend in the way that his boyfriend always shook off when Steve did it. Steve’s boyfriend never called Steve his boyfriend when his friend was around.

He stopped repeating Steve’s “I love you”s at the end of their phone calls and texts.

Steve wanted to surprise his boyfriend, so he stopped by his room to drag him to dinner and maybe a movie. It wasn’t an anniversary or anything, but he wanted to reaffirm their relationship.

Instead, he saw the beast his mother had once warned him about, composed of his boyfriend and the friend he’d repeatedly been told not to worry about.

Eddie’s eyes were the first one to meet him from his position on top of Dennis, his dark eyes widening at the sudden appearance of an audience when Steve had entered his boyfriend’s unlocked dorm room. Eddie froze for a brief moment before he flushed bright red at being caught riding dick and scrambled off.

Dennis propped himself up on his bed and glared across at Steve. “Jesus fucking Christ, Steven, don’t you ever knock?” his boyfriend hissed at him.

Steve stared without blinking, his chest feeling caved in. Dennis wasn’t even apologetic. Eddie was looking back and forth between them with lowered brows, confusion radiating from him, prompting him to start looking for his clothing. He had a hard time telling them apart from Dennis’s always scattered on the floor.

“Baby, c’mon, don’t go,” Dennis crooned, but it wasn’t towards Steve. No, he was propped up on his elbow on the bed, dick still wet and hard, holding out a hand towards Eddie.

Baby.

Dennis used to call Steve that too.

Eddie glanced nervously at Steve. “It looks like your friend needs to talk to you,” he hesitated, and that snapped Steve at least partly out of his silent staring.

“Boyfriend,” he corrected.

“What!” Eddie squawked while Dennis let fly an expletive.

“I’m his boyfriend. Or…I was, until just right now.”

Dennis swore again. “Steve, babe, don’t do this,” he said, causing Eddie to fling his head around to gape at Dennis. “Look, we can work this out,” he wheedled, sitting up finally to hold his wiggling fingers out towards Steve. “You could join us,” he added with a purr that used to send Steve’s toes curling.

Now it only curdled his stomach.

“He was your boyfriend this whole time?” Eddie hissed, and he looked so disgusted with Dennis that Steve couldn’t even find it in himself to hate the guy. Hell, even if he had known about Steve, he couldn’t really hate the guy. After all, it was Steve’s boyfriend doing the cheating, not Eddie.

Dennis just scoffed, rolling his eyes, obviously trying to salvage the situation. “He’s a baby gay. It was never going to be serious. Not like you and me, baby,” he coaxed, reaching out to grab Eddie by the hip.

Eddie’s hand solidly met Dennis’s cheek, making Steve jump. “Find someone else to buy your weed from,” Eddie growled, and then he was shoving on clothes that may or may not belong to him and crashing through the door, sending Steve an agonized, apologizing look.

Steve finally blinked at Dennis, who was clutching his cheek and swearing a mile a minute, finally understanding his mother and wishing he had expensive champagne right now too. “Goodbye, Dennis. We’re through.”

Steve closed the door on his ex-boyfriend, ignoring his calls for Steve to wait and come back.

Robin helped him through the breakup, blocking Dennis’s number from both their phones and helping Steve file the paperwork to switch dorm rooms. Neither of them wanted him to be where Dennis could easily find it after the first night when Dennis had pounded on the door to be let in.

He crashed in her dorm, eating their weight in the ice cream they more or less stole from work, and watched the Bridget Jones’s Diary trilogy while getting drunk off of shitty wine coolers. Robin had told him it was a rite of passage for having your heart broken. He only let himself cry after she fell asleep, however, muffling the sounds so he wouldn’t disturb her.

He was given his new dorm assignment, told he was in luck because another guy was looking for a new situation as well, and he moved in that next weekend. He should have known that life wouldn’t make things easy for him, however. Because his new roommate? The guy currently unboxing his items as he settled into the new dorm with him?

It was Eddie.

It was…awkward. Eddie had been beside himself, apologizing over and over again and saying he’d talk to the office while putting his things back into his boxes. He wouldn’t look Steve in the eye.

Steve thought it would be easier if he hated Eddie, but he was just as much a victim in this as he was. It turned out that he and Dennis had been dating for a few months after matching on Grindr, starting out as a hookup and a weed deal, but Dennis wasn’t wanting to put any labels to anything yet. He had assured Eddie that he was single though, that Steve was just a friend who had an unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t know that Steve and Dennis had been boyfriends for over a year now.

Eddie had also blocked Dennis’s number.

It would be easier to hate Eddie, probably easier not to see him again either, but he told Eddie it was fine and that it wasn’t like Eddie had anywhere else to go at the moment, so they uncomfortably settled in together for the time being.

And Eddie wasn’t terrible. A little messy, sure, and he played his music too loudly, would work himself into rants about conformity and toxic masculinity and anything else that caught his attention, but…it wasn’t necessarily unpleasant.

Strange as it was, he and Eddie developed a sort of friendship. Robin had been hesitant about it, but all too soon she had been dragged into it as well, something she never had with Steve and Dennis, who never really liked her. Eventually, they all forgot that Eddie was going to look for a new place to stay, and soon they had become a trio as if they’d been friends all along.

Eddie called them “The Three Muskequeers” with a roaring laugh while Robin pelted him with popcorn during one of their weekly movie nights.

Steve secretly loved that laugh.

The more time that Steve and Eddie (and Robin) spent time together, the more Steve was starting to realize that he might secretly love more than just Eddie’s laugh. Though, by the way Robin stared at him sometimes with worry, maybe it wasn’t all that secret.

Steve wasn’t delusional. Eddie still met guys on Grindr, making them take up the sock system for the doorknob, and that was fine. Eddie didn’t seriously date anymore, only doing hookups. Steve knew he wasn’t Eddie’s type anyways. Knew that Eddie wouldn’t ever look at him and see anything other than the pathetic, jilted lover. It was fine.

At least, it was fine, until they went to the club one night and got drunk. Until Robin left with wide eyes following a beautiful girl who had a dorky grin looking like she came straight from a John Hughes film, her many braceleted hand holding tightly to Robin’s. Until it was just him and Eddie and booze and pounding music and the fact that Steve hadn’t been touched by a man since Dennis.

Until Steve found himself with his back pressed against the door of a bathroom stall, Eddie on his knees with his mouth around him as he stared up with his gorgeous brown eyes.

Steve, stumbling with his hand in Eddie’s into their dorm room, knew what this was. Things might be awkward in the morning, but he knew they could laugh it off. It was just a night of passion, of letting off steam. Eddie didn’t need to know about his unfortunate crush on him.

Eddie didn’t need to know that Steve was more in love with him than he had ever been in love with Dennis. Or anyone else for that matter.

In the morning, he feigned sleep as he felt Eddie carefully extricate himself from Steve’s bed. He listened to Eddie carefully dress, carefully leave their dorm room, and told himself that he was fine. When Eddie eventually came back, he’d pretend like it never happened. He’d pretend he didn’t know how Eddie tasted on his tongue, or the sound Eddie made when he sank into him, or the way Eddie felt like home.

He sat up in bed, head in his hands, trying to convince himself everything would be okay. He sat like that for a while.

And then the door jiggled open and he jerked his head up to see Eddie walking back in with his hands full of a familiar bright pink box and a drink carrier, a greasy white bag clenched between his teeth, and his eyes lighting up when he saw Steve.

“Stevie!” he exclaimed, or tried to with his mouth full. He kicked the door shut with his foot and moved to set the box and drink carrier down on the shared desk, spitting out the white bag from his teeth and setting that on top to spin around to face Steve again.

Eddie grinned, cupping Steve’s face in his hands and bringing him in for a surprising kiss. “I was hoping you were still asleep. I got breakfast! Donuts and breakfast sandwiches and coffee from that place you really like,” he said, still grinning, when he finally pulled away. He wiggled his brows. “I got Buckley’s favorite too for whenever she stumbles her way home,” he teased.

Steve stared up at Eddie with wide eyes, unable to process. “What?”

Eddie’s grin grew smaller, slowly sliding from his face, the light in his eyes dampening. “Oh, uh…shit,” he muttered to himself. He grabbed his hair to pull over his face, but instead of looking happily embarrassed like he normally did when he made that move, he looked withdrawn, awkward. Sad.

“You don’t…” Eddie gulped. “You didn’t mean anything by it,” he said as though slowly realizing something that was, Steve knew, absolutely not true. “Fuck. Shit. Sorry, man,” Eddie said, turning away as he wrapped his arms tightly around himself, hands clasping his shoulders. “I didn’t mean…uh…yeah. It’s fine. We’re still bros. It doesn’t have to mean anything. We can just forget it. Um. I’m gonna go…take a shower,” he finished in a mumble, moving swiftly to grab his shower caddy.

Steve felt his heart stutter in his chest. Hope blossomed warm in his chest, his belly, and before he knew it he was out of bed and grabbing Eddie by his arm before he could escape.

Eddie cringed away, ducking his head to hide his face in the curtain of his hair, and the smell of Steve’s favorite donut shop filled their small dorm. But even the best glazed donut would pale in comparison to the sweetness of Eddie’s lips when Steve pulled the other man back around, cupped his jaw, and showed Eddie just how much he didn’t want to forget last night.

Their breakfast sandwiches were cold by the time they got to them, their coffee too, but Steve didn’t care as he laid in bed with Eddie and licked the remnants of sugar and jelly from Eddie’s lips.

Later, when Robin stumbled in with a few new hickies and the pretty girl’s number in her phone, she didn’t even acknowledge that the two of them were still tangled up in Steve’s bed together—though thankfully showered and dressed—as she collapsed on to Eddie’s. It was only when she’d polished off one old fashioned and was reaching for another that she paused, took stock of the way they were wrapped on each other’s arms and holding hands, and let out an unholy shriek.

Her smile was radiant, however, her eyes bright, and though she told them point blank she wanted zero details, she also told them that she was happy for them. She teased them mercilessly, of course, at least until Steve teased right back when she was going to introduce the girl last night to them so they could become the Four Muskequeers.

Robin shrieked again, throwing a pillow at them, and Steve realized for the first time in a long time, he was utterly and truly happy.

Him and Eddie still had a lot to talk about, still had their insecurities to work through, but later Eddie had Steve watch as he scrubbed his Grindr account and then deleted his account, giving Steve the passcode to his phone as well. Steve of course did the same, and they tried to be as transparent as possible about who they were talking to without feeling attacked.

Eddie also loudly proclaimed how much he loved his boyfriend every chance he got, and now the sock on the door system was only used to keep Robin and Vickie from bursting into their dorm. Though, unfortunately for Robin, they sometimes forgot.

Years later, after they stood in front of their family and friends to declare themselves, when Steve stood from the table after the cake had been sliced and bellies were fed, Steve lifted his glass with a sly smile and in his speech thanked someone named Dennis, who unfortunately couldn’t make it though they had sent him an invitation, for introducing him to the love of his life.

Robin, Vickie, and Eddie all snorted with laughter, and when Eddie pulled him down for a grinning kiss, his lips tasted as sweet as ever.

~ ~ ~

Hostage hotties: @derythcorvinus @katyawriteswhump

[soleminisanction]

Saw your post in his tag and I completely agree with your Tim loves being Robin post! The “He needs to grow up” thing pisses me off so much. I kind of blame Damian for its existence, but that might be unfair. Isn’t there a comic where Dick lectures Tim about going back to being Robin or being in Bruce’s shadow again? I think I remember reading something like that, but I may be misremembering.

It's not a lecture exactly, but there was a fairly recent comic (here meaning, like I think it was from 2021, 2022? It maaaay have been an issue of Tim Drake: Robin but I genuinely don't remember) where he brought the subject up in the context of like, "It shouldn't be your job to take care of Bruce."

Blame is kinda the wrong word because it implies that Damian the character is "at fault" for the shift, but I do think it's fair to say that Damian/Damian's presence in the narrative is the source of where this sentiment comes from.

Partially because there's a not-insignificant number of Damian stans who seem incapable of separating his in-character resentment of and conflict with Tim from the larger scope of their stories and thus view Tim using the Robin name as a threat/insult to their fav, so they make up and glom onto any arbitrary reason they can come up with for why he should have to change and Damian should get to stay, like two people arguing over who should have to change after showing up to a dinner party in the same outfit.

But mostly it's because of the greater damage that the last ~15 years of pushing Damian as Robin has done to the Robin legacy and its role in the narrative. Which isn't really about Damian himself -- Damian is a perfectly fine character as he is, he tells interesting stories and he clearly offers narrative avenues that people are interested in exploring. The problem is that none of those avenues have damn thing to do with ROBIN.

The story of Damian being/having been Dick's Robin during the Batman Rebirth era is important to his personal story and the story of how he relates to both Dick and Bruce. But outside of that very specific era, which lasted a grand total of -- on the very generous outside -- two and half years, every single one of Damian's stories would be exactly the same if he'd been using literally any other superhero codename.

Because they're not really Robin stories, or Batman & Robin stories. They're either Son of the Bat stories, where Damian deals with the angst of being Batman's son; Batman & Son stories, where Bruce and Damian work on their familial relationship very specifically in the context of a father and his son; or Son of the Demon stories, where Damian unpacks the trauma/conflict/occasional pride of being Ra's al-Ghul's grandson.

The lone exception to this is Juni Ba's The Boy Wonder from last year, which is imho the best Damian story that's ever been written in no small part because it's a love letter to the Robin legacy as told through Damian's eyes while he learns to understand and appreciate that legacy. (It's also about other things but that's because it's a very very good story.)

On the flipside, probably Damian's most popular role, the one that people keep trying to shove both him and his costar back into, is kind of proof-positive of my entire point, because being one-half of The Supersons is a role that was NEVER meant to be filled by a Robin. It's a role that was created for, originated, and always intended to be filled, by a character literally named Batman Junior.

And yet. Because they've insisted, for the last ~15 years, on telling those stories while Damian is wearing a Robin costume, using the Robin name, and advertising under names like Robin: Son of the Bat, it's led to skewing the meta-narrative around what the role and legacy of Robin is supposed to mean.

Instead of being its own, complex and distinctly queer relationship ("queer" not in the sense that it is romantic or sexual, but in that it does not fit neatly into one of society's designated boxes for defining social relationships), the way it was for over 60 goddamn years, Robin has now been half-forced into a singular, distinctly heteronormative and patriarchal definition of "a father teaching his son." And sons are, by societal mandate, meant to someday either leave or overtake their fathers. And since only The Golden Firstborn Dick or the One True Blood Heir Damian is """allowed""" by these heteronormative definitions to someday inherit the cowl, everyone else has to be forced out. "To grow up" as people keep putting it.

The shift in perspective is a direct result of Damian being Robin. It's not the only factor -- Jason's post-UtRH movie popularity factors in too, since fandom tends to zero in on certain elements of his Robin years like the adoption and "Robin gives me magic" and reduce a lot of his less-flattering traits to ~sexy angst and daddy issues~ -- but the way Damian gets used in the narrative is the primary factor from where I'm sitting.

Like I said at the top: it's not Damian, the character's, "fault" or anything. It's just a really frustrating result of people trying to force a more ambiguous relationship into a heteronormative mold that it was never meant to fit, and then getting retroactively mad at characters who were never designed to fit in that mold for breaking it.

[scarlet-bitch]

Glitch. (Part One)

“I think there’s been a glitch, five seconds later I’m fastening myself to you with a stitch, and I’m not even sorry.”

18+ sexual themes

Robin thought it would be a great idea to set Steve up with her new co-worker. But once the date was arranged, she started to second-guess her decision and wondered if you might have been a better match for Eddie. As a true gentleman, Steve took her concerns seriously and decided to leave the choice up to you.

——-

Thirty minutes ago you would’ve said you were indifferent to metal music. You surely didn’t hate it, but you never found yourself particularly wanting to listen to it. However, you are rather fond of pretty men and the lead in the metal band playing at the dive bar where you’re on a blind date, is possibly the prettiest man you’ve ever seen.

This is quite a testament, especially since your date, Steve, is very handsome. With his charming conversation, you genuinely enjoyed every moment of your dinner together. But now that you’re at The Hideout, you find it hard to concentrate on him or the conversation.

“Mhmm” you nod in agreement to what you think was a comment about the Jack and Coke he’s drinking. You know you should fight harder to pay attention but you’re simply too mesmerized by the sight in front of you to think straight.

Steve doesn’t seem to think much of it at first, figuring it’s far too loud to continue any meaningful conversation. But as the guitar solo begins, he clocks the real reason you’re struggling to keep up.

As you’re sat clutching your drink, your eyes are glued to the stage. Mouth slightly agape, thighs squeezed tight, breath hitched in your throat as your eyes lock in on the way the prettiest man’s fingers skillfully work his guitar.

He’s intoxicating.

“He’s a friend of mine if you want to meet him.”

Fuck.

Your face snaps back to your date. The embarrassment creeping up on your cheeks, as a shy smile toys at your lips.

“I, uh” you pause. In the hour you’ve known him, you have already gathered that Steve is a man who can read women. You couldn’t fool him if you wanted to.

He let’s out a small chuckle. “Listen, it’s totally fine. It’s safe to say Robin tried. I’ll introduce you.”

You found yourself straining your voice in an effort to be heard over the music. Your words tumbling out, trying to clarify that despite eye-fucking someone else -albeit his friend- it was in no way a reflection that you weren’t enjoying his company.

Steve grinned. "Seriously, don't worry about it. Eddie has that effect on people."

——

When the band wrapped up their set the bar transitioned to playing music over the speakers. Hall & Oates' “Maneater” was the first song to play, and you couldn't help but stifle a laugh. The lyrics seemingly resonating in your own reality. “She’s sitting with you, but her eyes are on the door.” Or in this case, his best friend.

——

Eddie made his way over to the bar where Steve and you were sitting. Hair tousled, drops of sweat beading down his skin, and a wide toothy grin spread across his face. Steve nudged you subtly as he approached, a knowing smirk on his lips.

"Harrington! Good to see you, man!” Eddie greeted with a grin, slapping Steve on the shoulder before turning his attention to you. "And who might this stunning creature be?"

Steve introduced you. As you extended your arm, you greeted Eddie with a smile, "Nice to meet you."

He shook your hand, his touch lingering for a moment. "Likewise. Tell me, did you enjoy the show? I couldn't help but notice you looked rather... captivated.”

Steve interjected with a teasing tone. “Oh, I assure you, she was.”

"Well then, if I’ve been stealing your date's attention, the least I can do is buy you both a drink.”

Steve stayed at the bar with Eddie while the drinks were being prepared, so you found a booth tucked away in a quiet corner.

When they returned with your drinks, Steve slipped into the seat next to you while Eddie settled across on the bench. The conversation between the three of you, flowing effortlessly as you got to know Eddie as more than just a pretty face.

——

The night went on, the bar bustling around you, but in your little corner with Steve and Eddie, time seemed to slow down.

Eddie’s presence was just as captivating off stage. He seemed to possess a gravitational pull, drawing you in with stolen glances and cheeky comments that left you both intrigued and flustered. Steve was effortlessly charming, matching Eddie’s wit. His smile and the way he spoke had a quality that had escaped you earlier. As you watched them banter, you couldn't decide who was more attractive. Quickly realizing the title for prettiest man you’ve laid eyes on was a draw.

You were caught in the middle of their dynamic, unable to tear your gaze away from the interplay of their personalities. The two of them bounce off each other like the perfect balance of mystique and charm. In all the banter, you can’t help but detect subtle tension- like a glitch, a mix of friendship that’s tinged with a hint of something more. Desire.

——

Steve leaned back against the booth, grinning as Eddie's last comment hung in the air.

"So, confession," Steve started, his tone light. "Robin wasn’t sure who would be a better match for you, so we decided to take matters into our own hands.”

You chuckled softly, feeling warm from the alcohol and the company of both men. "So, this was all a plan to see which of you I’d fall for?” you teased, raising an eyebrow at Steve.

“Something like that.”

Eddie joined in with a laugh, “Steve usually doesn't let me crash his dates, but can you blame us? We thought Robin might be onto something when we saw you couldn’t keep your eyes off me.”

“Normally, I'd be embarrassed about that, but now look at both of you, competing for my attention.”

Steve laughed. “Do you always have this effect on people? Or is it just me and Eddie?”

You glanced between them, their eyes filled with curiosity and longing. "I think," you said slowly, "tonight might be different."

You may have been mesmerized by Eddie’s hands, but you now couldn’t stop looking at Steve’s mouth. It was so pretty, and every word that fell from his lips cascaded like velvet. He would talk me through it.

"You know," you said with a playful grin, sipping your drink, "I'm starting to think you two might be onto something."

Steve raised an eyebrow. "Oh? What's that?"

“Maybe I'm just greedy," you replied with a mock sigh, "but why choose one when I can have both?”

Eddie chuckled, leaning closer. "Careful," he murmured, his voice low, "you might give us ideas."

Steve's eyes met yours, warmth in his gaze making your cheeks flush. "Who says we haven't already had them?" he whispered, sending a shiver down your spine.

They exchanged a look that spoke volumes- a silent agreement that something unexpected was happening between them, sparked by you.

Eddie’s playful grin softened. “Alright then, you heard the man, we’re not opposed to sharing.”

You looked at them, searching for any hint of jest or hesitation, but found none. Their eyes held yours with an intensity that made your heart race.

A mischievous smile played on your lips as you leaned forward slightly. "Is that an invitation?”

Steve chuckled softly. "More like an offer.”

Eddie leaned back in his seat, a smirk playing on his lips. "The question is, are you up for it?" he added, his voice low and husky.

Taking a sip of your drink to gather your thoughts, you met their eyes with a hint of playfulness. "I’m game for almost anything,” you replied, your voice steady despite the butterflies in your stomach. "But what exactly do you have in mind?"

Steve's eyes twinkled with amusement. "How about we start by going somewhere more private?" he suggested, his voice thick with promise.

Eddie nodded in agreement, his expression becoming more serious but still laced with excitement. "We could go to my place," he proposed. "It's about a 15-minute walk, or if we’d rather, my van’s just right outside. It's pretty spacious."

You lock eyes with Steve. He leans nearer, his voice soft and filled with longing, "What do you say?"

“The van it is.”

——

Outside, the cool night air greeted you, a stark contrast to the warmth and intimacy brewing between the three of you.

Eddie opened the side door to his van, revealing a cozy space with cushions lining the floor. The three of you settled in, Eddie to your left, Steve to your right. The soft glow of the interior lights highlighted the contours of your faces, reflecting the shared desire that pulsed between each of you.

Eddie’s eyes were fixed on you with a playful glint. "Well, here we are," he remarked. “You ready to see what other talents these hands possess” he whispers, grazing his hand gently up your left leg.

Your breath hitches. Taken off guard by his boldness, you’re at a loss for words. Merely shaking your head yes, causing him to chuckle.

Steve, leans in, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, “You know, l've been wondering what your lips taste like since the moment I saw you.”

You turn your head, meeting him face to face. As you lean in, your lips brush against his in a feather light kiss. His response is a soft intake of breath, before deepening the kiss. His hands sliding gently along your waist, pulling you closer. Eddie’s presence next to you, his fingers inching up your thigh.

As Steve moves from your lips to your neck, Eddie’s lips quickly find yours. A soft sigh escaping him. Eddie’s kiss is different than Steve’s, a melding of lips and tongues, indicative of the hunger and longing that had been building throughout the night. He moves from your lips to your jaw, nipping gently at your neck. One hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping the soft flesh of your inner thigh, only centimeters from where you want him most.

Steve’s trailing kisses softly on the other side, sucking gently when he finds the spot that makes you moan.

“Ahh, fuck.” You gasp, overwhelmed with the feeling of being ravished by both men.

“That’s it, baby girl. Tell us how it feels.” Steve hums.

“So fucking good.”

Both men begin trailing their kisses back up to your mouth, stopping as they almost collide together. They exchange a glance, a smirk on both their lips, wordless communication passing between them before they move in sync. Steve's lips found yours first, soft and eager, while Eddie's followed suit, more demanding. It was a collision of warmth and desire, three sets of lips intermingling, setting your senses on fire. When you parted, you were left breathless.

"I think we're going to have a lot of fun together.” Steve rasps

Eddie’s lips pull into a smirk. “Only one way to find out.”

——

Part Two

[gothamite-rambler]

Jim: All right, so I’d start in Bowery, searching from there is a good start. If you see a pimp named Lucifer you can beat him up. You look ridiculous as usual and did you ever have sex with my daughter?

Batman (delayed shock): …What?

Robin!Tim (flipping through the case file folder): He said we should start at Bowery, look for a satanic named pimp, insulted your suit, then asked if you violated his daughter.

Robin yawned, disinterested in the conversation. Batman, glancing from his sidekick to Jim, quickly saw the man wasn’t joking around. He looked around the roof checking for cameras, but Jim wasn't joking with him.

Batman: I might've blacked out for a second, repeat what you said, Gordon.

Jim: Gladly, Bruce, did you violate my daughter?

Batman: Right... You said that like it was a normal thing and not out of nowhere and an insulting accusation.

Robin!Tim (reading the case file): That wasn't yes or no to his question. Offended or not, you should probably give him the actual answer... Why did they take one of this guy's eyes?

Robin!Tim: That feels symbolic and makes sense. Batgirl was a teenager when you guys worked together?

Jim: That’s why I like him; he’s good at repeating and remembering information. So, did you ever violate my daughter? I won't be mad… I will only shoot you in the balls.

Batman: Y- Yes.

Jim: It's not that I don't trust him; it's just that my daughter already dated his goofy son. If this grown man touched my daughter in any way, no court would convict me.

Robin!Tim (joking): Ooo, sure hope you didn't go the R. Kelly route.

Batman (stoic, but annoyed): Robin, you know I didn't.

Robin!Tim: Obviously, but Jim isn't as trusting with you.

Robin!Tim (mid-yawn): Respect. B, can we get tea after we leave? I'm thirsty.

Batman: I will think about it, and I'm standing right here. Can I have a second to process this?

Jim: Sure, because you're not leaving until I get an answer.

Batman (unsure how to react): I… I respect the fact you will cause bodily harm to someone who harms your daughter, but… this is a lot. Circling back, you’re asking me if I ever had sexual relations with Batgirl?

Robin!Tim (sarcastically): Using the actual lie Bill Clinton said isn't the smartest defense. If it helps, I can hear Oracle cackling in my comm device.

Batman (stammering, defensive): I didn’t… I wouldn’t… We never had sex because we were never romantic together; I'm not that type of man. How dare you think for a moment I'm a man who would defile Batgirl! She's closer to my son's age than mine… not that I would if she were closer to my age!

Jim: Hm, you do seem to be telling the truth. Would you be willing to take a lie detector test?

Batman (flatly): Those are bullshit, and you know it. I'm your… fr-friend. Still not used to it.

Robin!Tim: I mean, outside of this, you do present yourself as a bit of a playboy. I don't blame the commissioner for being worried.

Batman (turning Tim around): Robin, step aside and read the damn folder.

Tim shrugged and wandered off, humming a jazz tune, clearly enjoying his time researching a kidnapping case. Batman groaned, covering his eyes in frustration.

Batman (pressing his comm, scolding tone): I don’t know what you’ve been told, but I swear to you, I’ve never done anything with her. We are friends. What did you tell him, Batgirl? Why would you tell him that?

Barbara: Relax, I’ve been denying all of that. He said he was going to ask, though. Just be glad I talked him out of bringing a gun.

Batman: Unless his holster has a fake gun that he's showing me, he definitely brought his gun!

Barbara (surprised at first, then cackling): Oh… hahahahahaha!

Batman (flatly): She's reveling in this… I'm just going to keep talking to you. Go ahead, ask your questions; I'm going to be truthful.

Jim (crossing his arms): Ever kissed her?

Batman (grossed out): No.

Jim: Had a hug that lasted too long?

Barbara (on comms, shivering): Gross.

Batman: I don’t even hug actual girlfriends for too long, but no, we've hugged five times, and it was quick and platonic.

Jim: Ever had sex with her on a roof?

Batman: That was with Catwoman, and she swore to keep that secret.

Jim: I… didn’t need to know that.

Batman: Now you do. I haven’t had sex with Batgirl or viewed her as some kind of sexual prospect. She was in high school when we met, and she will always be the high school girl who is my friend now. Why is it so difficult for people to accept that a man and a woman can be friends?

Jim and Barbara (in unison, her voice coming through the comm device): Because we know you, Bruce.

Batman: Okay, I'm putting a moratorium on calling me that name. When I am Batman, call me Batman. That is an easy thing to do. Next, I’m into many weird kinks. Yes, I have had relationships that some would label strange—

Robin!Tim (from far away): He's talking about Talia, Selina, Jillian Maxwell, Phantasm—

Batman (shouting, turning to his sidekick): READ THE CASE FILE!

Tim sighed, going back to reading the file about a double homicide outside a bar. Jim tilted his head, chuckling at his friend's reaction and beginning to feel reassured he hadn't slept with his daughter.

Batman: As I was saying, I'm not... What singer Robin mention?

Jim: R. Kelly, but there's also Jimmy Saville, Rolf Harris, the principal from Ferris Buellar.

Batman: I can't look at the movie the same way, but Gordon- Jim, I would never hurt you like that or her.

Jim: I don't know... I'm not going to hesitate shooting you if you're lying and I will let you live from it.

Batman: Ignoring Oracle's teasing to say - Look, you've made it clear you still judge me for being a man in an impressively made hero suit while being a great detective who can do your job better than you.

Batman: While I admire you'd do that, there's no need... also don't do that to anyone. You're one of the few good cops I tolerate. Don't go down a dark path.

Barbara (on comms, teasing): Aww, Jimmy and Brucie are best friends!

Jim: I never said that last part, but I'm assuming you think I doubt my own detective skills.

Jim (nonchalant): I can be overprotective of Batgirl, and in this situation, a man who's only a few years younger than me doing that with my daughter would set me off. But you're one of the few guy friends I have, and I wanted to get your word on this. I will believe you for now, but if it turns out you did the deed with her, you will be shot in the dick and live!

Batman: Exactly. I am not everyone's favorite person, but I'd never do something so reprehensible. When I look at Batgirl, she's a friend, family, my niece. If I did that to her, I could never see myself the same way. Jim, you are my friend, and I would never betray you like that, I promise.

Robin!Tim (walking past the two): That's so sweet.

Batman: Okay… oddly enough, I respect that. Thank you for asking first instead of shooting me.

Jim: Lucky you.

Batman (closing his eyes, holding his head down): I have weird friendships, but thanks, Jim.

Jim: No prob, buddy.

This is when Bruce had a fifteen year old Tim Drake as his Robin and a what if because for me I've never liked this ship. Fictional characters or not this one is gross to me and at least Dick and Babs made some sense.