#ao3 defense

[thief-of-eggs]

Oh wow! The commenter from earlier escalated! Folks- here is a perfect example of what NOT to comment on AO3 works :))

[fuctacles]

Eddie, begrudgingly: Dustin's older brother is kinda fine :/

I had a craving for best friend's older brother AU so I wrote some but it's not my forte I'm out of ideas so that might be it ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Edit: jokes on me I guess [Part II] [Part III]

Eddie was about to knock on his freshman friend’s door when there was a loud commotion on the other side and the door opened by itself. A guy, probably around his age, nearly ran into him in his haste to leave the house. He startled, taking Eddie in. And then taking a double take, the way Eddie was used to people doing at the sight of him.

“Who are you?” the guy asked, scrunching his nose and not meeting Eddie’s eyes.

He felt his hackles rise, venom building in his throat and ready to spit. He wasn’t expecting this on a Saturday on his friend’s doorstep, but he guessed this was the kind of town where you just couldn’t wear your battle vest in peace anywhere. His upper lip twitched ready to form a snarl, when suddenly the guy's features softened, a spark of recognition lighting up his eyes.

“Wait. Let me guess. Eddie?”

Eddie faltered, taken aback by the sudden shift in tone. He frowned.

“Yeah?”

The guy's face warmed up with a smile, and Eddie was not ready for that kind of emotional rollercoaster this early in the morning.

“Dustin’s stories do not do you justice,” he says for some reason, eyeing him again. Eddie wants to shrivel up and hide. What the fuck was happening. “He’s waiting for you in the kitchen,” he said, stepping to the side to invite him in. “I have to go to work, so you two be good, okay?” he says before waving a cheery goodbye and closing the door, disappearing just as abruptly as he showed up in front of Eddie. The inside of the house suddenly seemed dull.

Another ray of sunshine peeked from the kitchen, toothy grin and hazelnut curls.

“So you’ve met Steve!” Dustin grinned in place of a greeting.

Eddie gawked at him.

“That,” he pointed at the closed door. The sound of a car leaving the curb tickled his ears. “Was Steve?!”

“The adopted brother Steve? The Star Wars fan Steve? The badass older brother Steve?”

“Yes, all that,” Dustin nodded enthusiastically.

“I thought he was, like, 16!” Eddie flailed and it sounded like a petulant whine even to his ears. He winced.

Dustin frowned at him like he was being stupid. Eddie didn’t like that gaze, but unfortunately at this point, he was getting used to it. His younger friend leaned on the kitchen door frame watching Eddie toe off his shoes.

“He’s 19. What gave you that impression?”

Eddie frowned at his scuffed Reeboks. He nudged them with his toe to line up, looking for an answer.

“The adopted part, I think? He’s almost an adult, who adopts that old?”

He knew he had said the wrong thing as soon as he said it. He looked up at Dustin, whose face twisted uncomfortably.

“Shit, sorry man. I didn’t mean-”

Dusting clicked his tongue impatiently, interrupting him.

“It’s fine. This is an unconventional arrangement,” he said in that way when you heard something repeatedly. “I can tell you more, but after we make that character sheet, okay?”

Eddie nodded, eager to abandon his social faux pas. The Henderson’s were an unconventional unit, and that’s what he loved about them, at least from the stories Dustin shared. The guy was a little freak, just like Eddie, so it checked out his family was just as unconventional. So was Eddie’s after all.

The parallels made him warm up inside, the familiar need to protect his younger friends flaring up.

“Deal,” he nodded, following his friend inside the kitchen, where notebooks and DnD manuals already littered the table.

A couple of hours, two coffees and an unsolved argument about the intricacies of multiclassing later, they decided to take a break and Eddie could finally feast his eyes on the family photos on display. He stood in front of the newest one standing front and centre on the mantle. Steve was smiling shyly to the camera while Claudia Henderson had her arms around his shoulders and Dustin was grinning wide from his other side, hair ruffled by the older boy's hand.

“How long he has been living here?”

Dustin’s head popped out of the kitchen where he was rummaging for snacks.

“About a year. Remember the Starcourt fire?”

“Yeah?” Eddie frowned, taken aback by the seemingly unrelated question.

“Well, he’s been there and-” the boy frowned, fully stepping into the living room and crossing his arms. “Shit, Mom says I shouldn’t be babbling it around. That it’s Steve's story to tell.”

Eddie hummed, cocking his head.

“Your mom is very smart.”

Dustin unwrapped his arms, clenching his hands together.

“I guess I could tell you I mean who are you gonna tell? You just-”

Eddie raised both his hands, stopping him.

“Dude, he interrupted with all the disapproval his drug dealing nonconformist self could muster. “She’s right and that would be breaking your brother’s trust.”

“Uh. Yeah,” Dustin gulped, looking adequately ashamed at proposing the idea. “You’re right., he nodded.

This lasted about half a second because nobody could stop Henderson from being an egocentric know-it-all and since he was wrong he was now going to overcompensate for it. Of that, Eddie could be sure.

“We can go to his workplace and you could ask him!”

Eddie raised his hands again.

“Hold your horses Henderson, we’re not harassing your brother at work.” The boy was actually pouting, the little shit. “I am not that determined to hear it. I’ll just catch him another time I visit.”

That was the wrong thing to say because he wasn’t planning on being a recurring guest initially. Or maybe it was the right thing to say since Dustin positively beamed at the implication.

Maybe it was because the kid’s presence has been a good influence on him as well.

Also, while the story of Steve’s adoption didn’t seem that interesting before, the idea of a mall fire being somehow involved raised questions that were now itching the back of Eddie’s tongue. He had to ask them at some point.

*

“There’s this guy,” Eddie starts one day during lunch break. 

“Oh-ho,” Gareth murmurs with disdain, the crumbs from his sandwich falling from his lips.

“Not like that,” Eddie glowered at him, slapping against his arm. Even though it was kinda like that. “He’s picking up Henderson after Hellfire today and if we run into him, I want you guys to be civil.”

“We’re always civil,” Jeff frowns at Eddie’s backhanded accusations.

“Yeah, especially when you guys are mooning after Mrs. Wheeler.”

The comment raised a wave of loud protests from his friends.

“I am just saying-”

“You’re just saying that guy is hot and we shouldn’t ogle him?” Gareth, the worst friend he has, raised his eyebrow.

“No, I’m just-”

“You calling dibs, Munson?” John the Traitor, the Backstabber, joined in. Johned in, if you will.

‘No!” Eddie protested, maybe a little too loud. A couple of heads turned but when they saw the ruckus was coming from the freaks table, they quickly lost interest. “He’s the worst. A hunk of jock with stupid hair but!” He rose a finger. “He’s Henderson’s family. And what do we do with family members in Hellfire?”

“Lure in.”

“Lull into a fake sense of security.”

“Cast charm person.”

“Exactly,” he smirked, pointing his finger at each of them in approval. “This case is no different.”

“It feels different,” Gareth murmured under his breath, earning himself another smack on the shoulder.

*

Eddie wrapped up the session and was giving out experience points to his players when a soft knock interrupted his counting. He frowned at the door.

“Speak ‘friend’ and enter!” he hollered to his sheep’s utter glee. He grinned at them.

Dead silence was all the response he got, so he assumed whatever normie was bugging them got discouraged. But then, Henderson was turning around in his seat, yelling at the door.

“It’s from Lord of the Rings! You know this one!”

There was a shuffle on the other side where apparently, Steve came already to pick up his brother.

“Oh! Um… Melon? Was that it?”

“You may enter!” Eddie commanded with a grin straining at his cheeks. Dustin was doing a good job educating his jock brother, apparently. 

The guy pushed the door open, taking in the table full of teenagers. He waved hesitantly.

“You guys finishing up?”

“I’m handing out points, we need just a few minutes,” Eddie waved his hand. “And it’s Mellon.”

Steve frowned.

“That’s what I said.”

“Sure you did,” Eddie cocked his head condescendingly, ignoring the eyes of Corroded Coffin members staring at him. “Now sit and wait,” he gratuitously offered, snapping his fingers and pointing at a nearby bench, like Henderson’s older brother was some kind of dog.

To his surprise, he nodded shortly and obeyed, sitting down and watching him expectantly. Eddie took it as his cue to proceed. He coughed to gather his sheep's attention and went back to his meticulous calculations.

*

“That didn’t look like Charm Person to me,” Gareth hissed as soon as the younger members of Hellfire had left.

“Huh? What are you talking about?” Eddie scrunched his eyebrows, throwing him a look while he stuffed his campaign notes into his bag.

“You told us to be nice, but you ordered him around like he was one of the kids,” Jeff pointed out, arms crossing.

“I did not”

“You totally did.”

Eddie’s eyes narrowed as he straightened up.

“What is this? Mutiny? Among my own kin? Ungrateful little herd I had nurtured on my own breast-”

He was interrupted by a cacophony of grossed out noises.

“Spare us the imagery, please.”

Eddie huffed indignantly, closing his bag.

“Then quit yapping. It was a singular lapse of judgement on my part,” he said with finality, throwing his bag over his shoulder. Without looking back, he walked off, hand raised in a goodbye, “Toodles, bitches.”

And he was gone.

Gareth sighed.

“Man, I love Eddie, but sometimes…” John cut himself off, shaking his head. 

“Yeah.”

*

Eddie’s been on the fence about it for some time now. But the time was ticking and he did say more than once that ‘86 was gonna be his year, so maybe it was time to pocket his ego and make some calls.

Some very, very humiliating calls.

Sighing deeply he imagined himself going to the woods and digging up a deep hole. There he imaginary buried his pride, made a fancy map to find it later, hopefully in time for his graduation, and finally dragged himself back home and in front of his phone. Next to it, he tacked on a list of numbers of all his newest sheepies in case of emergencies. Like Hellfire scheduling.

He sighed once more, slumping dramatically before dialling the first of the numbers. As he listened to the dial tone, he squared his shoulders, decided a more confident pose was in order. He was now a man of action, taking his fate in his own hands. His pride was buried deeply in the darkest corners of the forest and only a courageous-

“Har- Henderson residence, this is Steve speaking.”

Eddie’s mind went blank, completely thrown off. Who was he calling again? What for?

“Hello?”

“Is this how you pick up the phone? Did I get the wrong house? Is this the British Queen?”

“... Eddie? Is that you?”

Busted.

“What gave me away?”

“Ah, only the dramatic nonsensical ramblings.” Steve answered, amusement in his voice. 

“Thank you, I pride myself in those.” No pride! Pride is buried deep in the putrid soil of a forgotten battlefield! “But I’m here for the superior Henderson, please and thank you.” Ah yes, the Charm Person again. Somebody could think Eddie buried his Charisma along with the pride.

“Sorry, Claudia is at work right now.”

Eddie scrunched his nose, confused, the gleeful tilt to the voice in his ear irking him. Then he remembered the mom. A staple in most households.

“Har, har, Steven. The smart one.”

“Please never call him that to his face,” the man said with a resigned sigh.

“There wouldn’t be enough space in the room for both our egos if I did.”

Steve laughed then, softly and genuinely, before calling out for his younger brother.

After a loud rattle, Dustin’s lispy voice finally reached Eddie’s trailer.

“What's up?”  

The man braced himself for what he was about to request.

“I need your help with an assignment.”

*

The door opened before he could even knock. Again.

“I thought I told you not to inflate his ego.”

“No, you told me not to call him smart. It is merely a by-product of my desperate attempts at graduating,” Eddie shrugged matter-of-factly. “Besides, I don’t respond to the likes of you.” He punctuated his words by seizing the guy up before brushing past him inside the Henderson’s house.

“The likes of- Excuse me?!”

Eddie was skipping towards Dustin’s room.

“Hey big guy I’m here for my tutoring!” he announced himself, standing in the open door to his friend’s room, who quickly beckons him inside. Steve’s heavy steps follow and soon he’s the one standing in the door frame, arms crossed, while Eddie bounces on Dustin’s bed.

“What do you mean the likes of me?” he asks, almost pouting. 

“Mainstream,” offered Dustin, shuffling through stuff on his desk.

“Jocks,” added Eddie, still bouncing with glee, hair following up and down.

“Normies.”

“Pop listeners.”

“Mom friends.”

���Conformists.”

“Okay, I get it!” Steve threw his hands in the air, stopping the list that probably wouldn’t come to an end otherwise. “You’re the cool guys, have fun having your cool stuff,” he huffed angrily, grabbing the doorknob. Before he closed the door he threw one seething glance at Dustin. “Do not. Ask me for snacks,” he hissed before slamming the door shut.

Eddie flipped back on the bed, a wide grin splitting his face.

“Man, your brother is so easy to rile up,” he chuckled gleefully.

“Right?! He’s so bitchy,” Dusting turned around towards him, signature smile in place. Eddie hollered.

“He is!”

Alas, a slap of palms interrupted his delightful trashing around.

“I believe we have some physics to cover?”

Eddie groaned. Right. He didn’t come here to bother the older Henderson. Booo.

[Steddie masterpost] [Ao3] [ko-fi]

[varpusvaras]

The days continue like that.

Fox tries his best to continue focusing solely on Leia. He feeds her, plays with her, puts her down for a nap. Feeds her, bathes her, puts her to bed.

They continue to keep watch in turns. Ben stays up first, while Fox sleeps the best he can, and then he stays up until the suns start to rise.

Then they do it all over again.

Ben does most of the housework. Fox thinks that he takes pity on him, and lets him focus on taking care of Leia, instead of making him do any of the maintenance that the house needs every day. Fox tries not to feel too bad about it.

The days and nights go by.

Leia starts to get a little restless. Fox hasn't had the courage to let her outside, in case they are spotted. Or in case there are any of the gangs or other dangers lurking around. Or because the days are hot, and Leia's skin is light and sensitive, and Fox doesn't want to expose her to the suns too much.

He sees Ben watching them. It almost looks like he is getting a little restless, too.

That night, after Fox has gotten Leia to fall asleep, Ben speaks.

"I think we are out of immediate danger now", he says. "Of course, it might just be because they haven't managed to track us down yet, but perhaps we can afford to relax a little."

Fox is not sure if he wants to relax a little.

He is, quite frankly, a little afraid of what will happen if he does so.

He can see that there is something else tied to what Ben is saying, though.

"Are you getting tired of staying inside the house with us around the clock, Kenobi?" He asks.

Ben makes a little huff. Fox doesn't know if it's a laugh or a sigh.

"Not that I don't enjoy your company", he says. "But I do have a job. Or at least I had a few days ago. I might already be laid off for not turning up for my shifts. Things are a bit scarce here, and even though there are various jobs available, getting one that is at least somewhat on the side of legality is always a bothersome thing. And, since things are scarce, they cost credits. Even more so now, as there are three mouths to feed, instead of one."

He looks at Leia, and smiles slightly.

"Even if one of the mouths is smaller than the other two", he says. He sounds fond as he speaks, and there is a look in his eyes that Fox knows.

He wonders who exactly Ben is thinking about when he looks at her.

"I do have credits on me", he says. "A lot of them."

Ben turns to look back at him. He raises a brow.

"And they cannot be traced back to you?" He asks.

"No", Fox answers. "They were reserved exactly for a situation like this. Just like everything else we have with us."

He decides not to think too much about that right now. He's doesn't have the energy to start and really think about how everything they have with them is everything they currently have left.

Ben nods. He is quiet for a while, clearly thinking.

"I will still go out tomorrow, to see if I still have a job", he says. "We do need to get more supplies as well at some point. Might as well do it at the same time."

That is true. Fox has supplies with him, but they are not going to last forever, and they need to keep up a stock, in case they need to leave again.

So he nods.

"Good. I will leave more weapons for you. But do not stay and fight. If they come, flee. Do not worry about me or anyone else."

Fox nods again.

It's for the best. If he flees, they will probably not go after the boy.

"I don't think I could even fight against all of them", he admits. "It would be a losing battle from the start. Most likely Vader himself would come after her-"

He stops talking when he sees the expression on Ben's face.

He looks like he has seen a ghost.

He stands there, his face white and his eyes wide, and Fox isn't sure if he is even breathing anymore.

He looks more like a ghost himself.

"Ben?" Fox calls. He doesn't seem to hear him. "Ben? General Kenobi?"

Nothing.

"Obi-Wan?"

That gets him to move again. Ben breathes in sharply, and his eyes focus fully back on Fox.

"He..." His voice comes out as a strained whisper. "He's...alive? Anakin is alive?"

Fox nods.

Ben sits down on the floor. He stares at the wall, and when he doesn't get up after a while, Fox stands up, and carefully pulls him back to his feet. He walks him all the way to the bed and makes him sit down on it, next to Leia, who is thankfully still sleeping.

Ben doesn't say anything. He just keeps staring somewhere, somewhere beyond the walls of the house.

Fox takes the first watch for the night.

[timdrakescoffeecup]

(Updated Sometimes) Tim Drake Fanfic Masterlist

cw's will not be included, so make sure to check the tags. also might include some jason fics too

Bang, bang by Ididloveyou_once

Tim asks Jason to teach him how to use a gun. (One shot, funny)

The Long Way Home by itsnatalie

Tim and Jason get trapped in a labyrinth that shows their worst nightmares. (Multi, angst, hurt/comfort)

like falling water by naheka

Dick crashes at Jason's place, hopped up on fear gas. (One shot, funny)

Bet on it by Lysical

Damian needs Jason's help to hide something from Bruce. (One shot, funny)

Deliver Yourself by forestgreen

Jason adopts his younger self. (Multi, angst)

Banshee In A Well by liverobinreaction (bugbee)

Tim is five years old when he drowns in his parents' pool. He dies quietly, waiting for parents who love him, but will never be there, to realise that something is wrong. They never show up, and he sinks into oblivion.

When he wakes up and claws his way out of the water, the sun has set, and the lights of his house are on. He is cold and wet and his lungs burn.

But most of all, Tim is alone. (Multi, angst)

Home by sElkieNight60

Tim forgets who he is. (Multi, angst)

Late Night Langoustining by whaleofatime

Jason adopts a lobster. (One shot, funny)

two against the world by carolinaa

While following Batman and Robin, Tim finds a puppy. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Like a Hinge, Like a Wing by Ultrageekatlarge

Tim blackmails Batman into helping him arrest his murderous uncle. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

See Life As a Worthy Opponent by TriviasGhost

Tim goes to a universe where he never existed. (Multi, incomplete)

The Return by lurkinglurkerwholurks

What the comics neglected to cover after Bruce returns from being lost in time. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Obedience by Sohotthateveryonedied

Something is seriously wrong with Tim—Jason just knows it. Ever since the Mad Hatter incident, Tim has been acting completely different, and the worst part is that no one believes Jason when he tells them so.

But when the truth is eventually revealed, the whole family comes to realize that the situation is far worse than anyone could have ever predicted. (One shot, angst)

To an Athlete Dying Young by SonoSvegliato

A series detailing Tim’s ascension to Robinhood, with angsty Red Hood vigilantes in the background. (Multi, angst)

Matters of the Heart by DM (Nyerus), Nyerus

Kon need's Tim's help with an investigation in Metropolis. Feelings ensue. (Multi, Timkon)

It Wasn't Real (But We Were Happy) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

“Everyone’s fine. You don’t need me anymore. I told you, Bruce. I told you I’d stay until you didn’t need me anymore.”

“I’m sorry. I stayed too long. I should have... I shouldn’t have waited so long." (Multi, angst)

occam's razor by Beatrice eagle

An in-universe reddit thread about Jason's death. (One shot, funny)

To Try, To Err, To Try Again by theLiterator

Tim knits Damian a present. (One shot, wholesome?)

let's get mischievous by CreamofTomatoSoup

Tim's friend gets possessed by Dionysius. (One shot, angst)

Whoopsie by MichaBerry

Tim forgets to tell that he lost his spleen. Oops. (One shot, angst?)

Latchkey by goldkirk

Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.

Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird nextdoor neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there. (Multi, hurt/comfort, this is a MUST READ for timfics)

Trouble Magnet by strikeyoucolors

"It's like you've been synchronized into passively hostile acts against Tim. Did he do something? Were you brainwashed? Because I now have a son who has been crushed, had his face broken, and been shot. All incidences of friendly fire. " (One shot, funny)

Echoes of You by SilverSkiesAtMidnight

Milk white skin beneath the mud, black hair hanging in muddy clumps around his ears. Blue eyes staring back at him, animal-bright and dilated in the brief moment before he flinches back from the light with a cry of pain that stabs through Jason to the soul. (One shot, angst)

A Simple Life by RenaRoo

Tim Drake is living a simple life in one of the worst parts of Gotham. He makes the best of it, though. He makes for himself the only life he's ever known...

He thinks. (One shot, angst)

The Wound Begins to Bleed by audreycritter

Now that Tim’s moved back to the manor, he just wants a few afternoons a week without Damian around.

Funny how getting that was the catalyst for him becoming a better big brother. (One shot, brotherly bonding)

Hey, Lawman! by dinolaur

Tim goes MIA during lunch. (One shot, funny)

Gotham Banksy by LananiA3O

After finding out that he remains unavenged, Jason returns to Gotham, but instead of deciding to kill Bruce, he decides to channel his rage into a more creative endeavor: spray-painting Gotham until the message is loud and clear to everyone: fuck Batman. (Multi, angst)

Breaking News: Local Teen Given Intervention For Normal Behaviour by yellowrooster

Tim ends up in an alternate dimension where he's considered a drug addict. (One shot, funny)

Bay Through Hell by GordandV

Tim is mermaid. (Multi, AU)

Hot Dog, French Fries by eggmacguffin

Damian tries to hide that he's been hit with a truth serum. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

What happens in Vegas by Ididloveyou_once

Tim and Kon get married in Vegas, while drunk. (Multi, timkon)

Quarter past midnight by Aaren

Instead of being found by Talia after crawling out of his grave, Jason becomes a nurse. (Multi, canon divergence)

(Un)Wanted by Mika-chan (mikarin)

Tim gets kidnapped. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Midafternoon Beetdown by whaleofatime

Jason cosplays as a organic farmer. (One shot, funny)

Liminal Space by Calamityjim

Bruce's habit of collecting strays isn't limited by dimension. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Can't Stay Down (a Documentary) by SonoSvegliato

Tim gets his tonsils removed. (Multi, funny)

Surveillance by smilebackwards

Tim is a civilian who contributes to crime fighting by taking surveillance photos and leaving them on the desktop of the Batcomputer. (Multi, found family)

Chemistry of a Car Crash by anthologia

Tim gets into a car crash. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

Bet It all On Red by centreoftheselights

Instead of becoming enemies, Robin and Red Hood form an alliance. (One shot series, canon divergence)

False Dichotomy by heartslogos

Red Hood calls Red Robin's bandoliers "super convenient idiot handles". (One shot)

don't take you guns to town by kreestar

batman comes home from a night patrolling to find a 10 year old jason todd waiting for him in his kitchen. across gotham, at the same time, red hood is stopped by a 25 year old bruce wayne. (One shot, angst)

Stubborn by audreycritter

When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother," you don't argue. You just do it. (Multi, sickfic)

I'm Just Fine by girlgeekjf

After rescuing a group of kidnapped children, Tim reflects on what he could’ve done better. (One shot, hurt/comfort)

A Christmas Miracle by Mithen

Damian and Dick go undercover to bust a child-kidnapping ring whose members dress up as Santa Claus. (One shot, funny)

Confidence Lost by C_R_Scott

Everything about Neal Caffrey’s past prior to his 18th birthday is a mystery, even to him. However, when someone unexpectedly recognizes him by a name that he has never used as an alias before, he learns that the biggest con of his life is literally his life. (or, tim is neal caffrey from white collar) (multi, crossover)

Exit Wounds by incogneat_oh

Did you hear this one? A vigilante walks into a warehouse and kills the joker. (One shot, angst)

If the Sky Comes Falling Down (For You) by lurkinglurkerwholurks

Five times Jason saved his siblings, and one time they saved him. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Normally People Pass Out After by WriterfromGotham

Tim donates blood. (One shot, angst and fluff)

In Living Memory by DangerBeckett

Jason remembers why he stays out of other people's business. (One shot, angst)

Set My Mind To Wandering by Tabithian

Tim goes on a vacation. (One shot series, angst)

A Little Bit of Sunshine, A Little Bit of Rain by ohwhatevrewhatevr

For once, Tim is happy with his life. (One shot, fluff?)

American Ninja Worrier by DangerBeckett

Tim hires a ninja intern. Jason becomes concerned. (One shot, funny)

The Wrong Boy is Breathing by heartslogos

Tim visits Jason's grave all the time. (One shot, angst)

Jason Todd: The Not-So-Outlaw by GoAwayOlivia

Jason Todd isn't what Batman made him, he isn't what the Joker made him, he isn't what the League of Assassins made him, and he isn't what the Lazarus Pit made him. He's his own person and he's taking himself back, one home renovation at a time. Also he might just make friends with the people who are supposed to be his brothers while he's at it. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

The Art of Conversation by glassgoblin

Robin needs to talk to a friend, but everyone is a little busy. (One shot, angst)

Road Rage Robin by heartslogos

"I’d be doing humanity a favor.” Tim grinds out, “And I would get away with it. I could totally get away with it. I’ve done worse.“ (One shot, funny)

How to be a male Batgirl by Blackjay27

There are many ways to help Batman and Robin, but no matter which universe he's in, Tim's method will always end with him in a costume on Gotham's rooftops. (Multi, canon divergence)

I Saw Grayson Kissing Santa Claus by pupeez4eva

It’s Christmas time, and Damian is on a mission - to stop this ‘Santa Claus’ fellow from molesting his older brother. (Multi, funny) (this fic is so funny it made me cackle out loud)

Favourite Strangers by SpiritsFlame

It's been six months since Bruce's actions led to the death of Superman. (One shot, crossover with the movies?)

show me yesterday, for i can't find today by indent

Then: The year is 2013. Jason Todd is alive, fourteen years old, and about to follow Sheila Haywood, his birth mother, into the hands of the Joker. All he wants is to save her life.

Now: The year is 2018. Jason Todd was dead. But now he's a nineteen year old vigilante about to take down the latest C-Lister rogue. Unfortunately for him, its a rogue that specialises in time-travel technology. And what starts as an easy takedown...ends as a time travelling phenomenon.

The two Jasons swap places. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Retrograde Motion by Lysical

All Jason wanted was a case that was simple, clean, and far away from the latest mess in Gotham. Magic wasn't the Outlaws' area of expertise, but they soon found themselves investigating a dark wizard with a penchant for organ harvesting.

When an accident on the case leaves Jason as a clueless seven year old with a memory that's spotty at best, what else can his team do but go to his family for help? (Multi, hurt/comfort?)

anglerfish by envysparkler

Robin was having a horrible night even before the Red Hood showed up. (One shot, angst)

Tso'ape Mumbichi by keeptogethernow

Tim is Talon. (Multi, AU)

Kodokuno Shoujo (A Lonely Girl) by C_R_Scott

A tale of two Robins wrapped up in an Asian-style horror story. Tim Drake goes to Japan for business, both for Wayne Enterprises and Batman Incorporated. However, when he returns to Gotham City, it's Damian Wayne who discovers he brought along more from his trip overseas than just his luggage and mission report. (Multi, horror)

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. (Multi, hurt/comfort)

Help by Loxare

Jason never went to Gotham after he emerged from the Lazarus Pit. Instead, he went to Bludhaven to begin his reign of terror. (Or Jason adopts all the children of Bludhaven.) (Multi, fluff)

Lean on me by Musingsofthesky

Tim just wants to hang out with Bruce. Too bad his cold has other plans. (One shot, sickfic)

The Ol' Switcheroo by AutumnHobbit

Damian takes a bullet for Tim. (One shot, angst)

Meant to be by protagonistically

Tim takes a bullet for Bruce. (One shot, angst)

Juneberries by MichaBerry

When Tim is taken, Damian has to come to terms with his own insecurities, and how he really feels towards his older 'brother'. When he does, it might be too late. (Multi, angst)

though the sun continues to stand by metropolisjournal (TKodami)

Tim in the movie universe. (Multi, angst)

The Time We've Got by DawnsEternalLight

While on an emergency Redbull run, Tim tries to talk to his adopted father. (One shot, fluff)

[anghraine]

Okay, breaking my principles hiatus again for another fanfic rant despite my profound frustration w/ Tumblr currently:

I have another post and conversation on DW about this, but while pretty much my entire dash has zero patience with the overtly contemptuous Hot Fanfic Takes, I do pretty often see takes on Fanfiction's Limitations As A Form that are phrased more gently and/or academically but which rely on the same assumptions and make the same mistakes.

IMO even the gentlest, and/or most earnest, and/or most eruditely theorized takes on fanfiction as a form still suffer from one basic problem: the formal argument does not work.

I have never once seen a take on fanfiction as a form that could provide a coherent formal definition of what fanfiction is and what it is not (formal as in "related to its form" not as in "proper" or "stuffy"). Every argument I have ever seen on the strengths/weaknesses of fanfiction as a form vs original fiction relies to some extent on this lack of clarity.

Hence the inevitable "what about Shakespeare/Ovid/Wide Sargasso Sea/modern takes on ancient religious narratives/retold fairy tales/adaptation/expanded universes/etc" responses. The assumptions and assertions about fanfiction as a form in these arguments pretty much always should apply to other things based on the defining formal qualities of fanfic in these arguments ("fanfiction is fundamentally X because it re-purposes pre-existing characters and stories rather than inventing new ones" "fanfiction is fundamentally Y because it's often serialized" etc).

Yet the framing of the argument virtually always makes it clear that the generalizations about fanfic are not being applied to Real Literature. Nor can this argument account for original fics produced within a fandom context such as AO3 that are basically indistinguishable from fanfic in every way apart from lacking a canon source.

At the end of the day, I do not think fanfic is "the way it is" because of any fundamental formal qualities—after all, it shares these qualities with vast swaths of other human literature and art over thousands of years that most people would never consider fanfic. My view is that an argument about fanfic based purely on form must also apply to "non-fanfic" works that share the formal qualities brought up in the argument (these arguments never actually apply their theories to anything other than fanfic, though).

Alternately, the formal argument could provide a definition of fanfic (a formal one, not one based on judgment of merit or morality) that excludes these other kinds of works and genres. In that case, the argument would actually apply only to fanfic (as defined). But I have never seen this happen, either.

So ultimately, I think the whole formal argument about fanfic is unsalvageably flawed in practice.

Realistically, fanfiction is not the way it is because of something fundamentally derived from writing characters/settings etc you didn't originate (or serialization as some new-fangled form, lmao). Fanfiction as a category is an intrinsically modern concept resulting largely from similarly modern concepts of intellectual property and auteurship (legally and culturally) that have been so extremely normalized in many English-language media spaces (at the least) that many people do not realize these concepts are context-dependent and not universal truths.

Fanfic does not look like it does (or exist as a discrete category at all) without specifically modern legal practices (and assumptions about law that may or may not be true, like with many authorial & corporate attempts to use the possibility of legal threats to dictate terms of engagement w/ media to fandom, the Marion Zimmer Bradley myth, etc).

Fanfic does not look like it does without the broader fandom cultures and trends around it. It does not look like it does without the massive popularity of various romance genres and some very popular SF/F. It does not look like it does without any number of other social and cultural forces that are also extremely modern in the grand scheme of things.

The formal argument is just so completely ahistorical and obliviously presentist in its assumptions about art and generally incoherent that, sure, it's nicer when people present it politely, but it's still wrong.

[floorpillow]

I'm gonna share some of my fav ace attorney fics with y'all please enjoy. It's mostly narumitsu but there's some klapollo there too

@girlanachrotism sent me all but one? Two? Of these btw. I just think I should say that

A brief for the defense by Ophelia_writes (18 chapters, ONGOING, one of the most well-written fics I've ever read. Takes place during the first trilogy with the last few chapters taking place during Bridge To The Turnabout. This fiction gave me whiplash genuinely I think it did something to me. Highly highly recommend even though it's still ongoing)

Pressure (pushing down on me) by ApprenticeofDoyle (7 chapters, COMPLETED. A few different cases, all original trilogy. This one's real good)

If I woke up (next to you) by ApprenticeofDoyle (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Same universe as Pressure ^. Takes place after the engarde case, love confessions between phoenix and miles. Implied sexual content but nothing explicit)

You ever been in love? By hechima (6 chapters, COMPLETED. Apollo justice trilogy. Slow burn, miles and phoenix are so in love)

Things are as they are by hechima (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Same universe as You ever been in love?. Miles sets Apollo and klavier up with a cabin for a few days. Love confessions)

darling i'd wait for you (even if you didn't ask me to) by sondersunrise (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles brings phoenix to a wedding as his plus one. Love confessions)

kick up the dust as we dance in the sun by whackamacka (11 chapters, COMPLETED. alright trust me on this one guys - 1930s dustbowl au narumitsu. Phoenix is an orphan farmboy who works ad a farmhand for the von karma estate. This one is so fucking good please try it I'm begging you)

come find me south of heaven by whackamacka (2 chapters, ONGOING. Sequel Fic to Kick Up The Dust. Phoenix as a defense attorney in Chicago)

i always want you when i'm finally fine by whiskeydmay (6 chapters, COMPLETED. This one's a hanahaki fic I am so weak for hanahaki. Five chapters from Phoenix pov and then one from miles pov.)

love most definitely requited by The_Eclectic_Bookworm (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Another hanahaki piece. Phoenix adopts trucy, and miles contracts Hanahaki. Franziska and Kay insist he confesses to Phoenix, so he does. Love confessions, fluff)

In The Dead Of Night by Harrowdeon (1 chapter, COMPLETED. Miles invites phoenix and trucy to Europe for a bit. Trucy wakes up from a nightmare and miles comforts her)

i'm getting so tired of coughing out my lungs by heiiskltchen (3 chapters, COMPLETED. Phoenix wright and his relationship with food after dahlia. This one is so heartbreaking tbh I fully agree with this concept)

[jedi-enthusiast]

In light of the new Ahsoka show pissing me off, I have decided that---at some point after I finish up mitptt and get going again on bcc---I'm going to write a spite fic.

----------

In said spite fic, Ahsoka---at the age and time she is in the Ahsoka show---goes back in time to the Prequel Era, where her younger self discovers her.

Now, it's obvious that older Ahsoka- (who we'll call O!Ahsoka) -is younger Ahsoka- (who we'll call Y!Ahsoka) -at a different age, so O!Ahsoka can't really lie her way out of being discovered. After that becomes obvious to her, O!Ahsoka figures- "Oh the Force must've sent me back in time so I could save myself and Anakin from the stupid dogmatic Jedi!" -and decides to do just that.

Then, after O!Ahsoka basically treats the other Jedi- (barring herself and Anakin, and maybe Plo) -like shit, shits all over the Order and their practices, and just generally acts like an ass about everything and shows a surprising amount of ignorance---Y!Ahsoka is like- "What the fuck is wrong with you? Have you forgotten that these people are our family? Have you forgotten how the Force works? Have you forgotten why we practice certain things? What the hell?"

So O!Ahsoka tells her everything---all of her opinions on why the Jedi and especially the Council are bad/hypocritical/whatever/etc, everything that happened in The Wrong Jedi arc, how Obi-Wan was apparently "playing politics" and "betrayed her" or whatever, everything Anakin did and what that lead to, how Anakin's actions are apparently the Jedi's fault, etc---in hopes that hearing all of that will turn Y!Ahsoka against the Jedi and make her help her "save Anakin from them."

Cue Y!Ahsoka going off.

Y!Ahsoka absolutely rips O!Ahsoka and her arguments to shreds---defending her fellow Jedi and their beliefs, both through logical emotional arguments, and just expressing her shock that O!Ahsoka could so easily forget all that they were taught and be so fucking callous about the death of their family.

Y!Ahsoka then uses the information that O!Ahsoka has given her to help her fellow Jedi stop Anakin from fucking everything up and killing them all---as well as take out Palpatine and win the war.

All the while also having an identity crisis because- "how could she turn into such an asshole???" -but everyone, particularly Obi-Wan, helps her through that.

Meanwhile O!Ahsoka has to deal with the fact that she actually is wrong and an asshole, and also work out her own issues in a healthy way instead of just ignoring them, absolving Anakin of any agency, and blaming the Jedi.

----------

This fic will also be full of a healthy dose of Rex finding out what Anakin makes him and his brothers do---how easily he was ready to cast them aside---and, after dealing with all of the bullshit that Anakin has been pulling throughout the war, he decides that he's just fucking done with him.

He just walks away from him, decides that he's not putting up with any of this anymore.

In a similar vein, I'm thinking about Padme also learning about this stuff and---paired with Anakin's now super erratic and crazy behavior, plus they've just recently "made up" from the Clovis stuff---she does some serious thinking and finally sees Anakin for what he is, and makes the decision to leave him because she hates the person she's become by being with him.

[fabdante]

The Party Animal and the Goth

Duncan tried to tell her before they showed up that this would be different. She should give it a try. It’d been years since the last party she went to with him (she’d been dating Trent at the time to, something Duncan further blamed for her bad time). Maybe she’d like it now. And Duncan wouldn’t leave her alone, he swore. No awkward hanging out by herself and the dog should they have one. And if Trent was there, Duncan would punch him just for her. Blah blah. All sorts of promises. Well. She wasn’t into it. Like she said she wouldn’t be. Duncan fucked off somewhere else. Like she thought he would. And she saw her ex Trent floating around and she was doing everything in her power to avoid any awkward small talk that would ensue the second he saw her again. Like she feared.  Of course the party was going to be that predictable. She should have put money on it. And there wasn't even a dog. Around midnight she’d gotten sick of the whole thing. But Duncan was off doing something (hopefully not someone) and Geoff found her. They talked. She mentioned maybe looking for DJ and leaving. But Geoff lit up like she’d just told him he won a prize and her night got a little weird. Instead of just saying bye or helping her find DJ or literally anything else, Geoff was instantly offering to talk her back to her dorm. So that got her where she was now, walking with Geoff away from his party.  What the fuck.

Summery: A classic 'Geoff walks Gwen home' story set in the year of 2013/2014, in which Gwen has decided to leave a party early and Geoff has decided he'll walk her home. (College AU, no camp.)

Words: 4,274

Rating: Teen (swearing)

Read Here!

[getfuckedblr]

My completed bind of HEX by maidenmothercrone! This one gave me a little bit of an ass kicking bc I just had to gild every chapter heading, which ended up being like 200 chapters in all. But I’m so glad I stuck it out!!! This is one of m favorite timeline mash up’s ever and the way the author handles all of the plot lines is legit beautiful

[musicalmoritz]

There is not a single straight bone in Mitsuba’s body like I genuinely believe that man could never like a woman. Sousuke I know what you are

[daminwayne]

It’s 2023 and I’m still upset about all the Tony Stark hate post CACW

[knickynoo]

"How did I know your name? How did I know your address? How do I know the names and addresses of every man, woman, and child in the whole world? How do I know that your secret desire is to be loved? To be hugged. To be held. To be cared for."

Michael J. Fox as Eddie Simms in Night Court, s1ep2 "Santa Goes Downtown"

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

you know the brain rot is bad when you almost refer to one of your friends as bakugou, and you catch yourself at the last second, only to try a second time and almost call them katsuki and beat yourself over the head mentally because that's the same fucking person and it's violently the wrong answer

[notverycolonthreeofyou]

Sometimes while writing I have to stop myself and stare at the screen because what do you mean I’m 23 and I’m writing fucking South Park fan-fiction

Anyways here’s my creek fanfic it’s a coffee shop au where Tweek hates his name and lies about what it is LMAO

[nickloonie]

updated version

[shitouttabuck]

Buddie unintentional cuddles can power me through a whole week, so the prompt 3. Person A waking up to Person B curled up and sleeping on top of them really spoke to me <3

hiya thank u frida and @colonoscopys for sendin this one in (and an anon too!!!) very much distracted me from my wisdom tooth woes. i need to add a disclaimer that this is NOT kink it’s just sleepy drunkenness please trust me lol (rated t even!!!! not horny!!!!!!! just unbelievably stupid!!!!)

bed-sharing prompts: person A waking up to person B curled up and sleeping on top of them

put on a slow dumb show for you | 2.2k | read under cut or on ao3

Buck wakes with the same unshiftable heaviness on his chest that he gets mid-panic attack. Except—his body is incredibly confused, because while the physical pressure is bearing down, making breathing a struggle, every other cell in his body is telling him the opposite: no reason to panic, he’s warm and swaddled and safer than he’s ever been.

His brain scrambles to organise this juxtaposition of sensations. The room is dark, and not unfamiliar, even if he’s spent the night in here less than a handful of times. Eddie’s digital alarm clock is blinking at him, and Eddie’s recently mounted décor of three framed photographs on the far wall is facing him, and Eddie’s entire fucking body is draped over Buck’s and crushing the breath out of him.

Oh. Okay. The second half of his cells were right, then—he’s safe. His heart can stop racing now. And it does, a bit.

But his brain keeps reaching for puzzle pieces, laying them out for assessment before him. His mouth tastes like he licked the bottom of a public trash can, and there’s a sharp twinge behind his temple, and he feels more than a little nauseous.

That’ll be the last five tequila shots Ravi pressed into his hands pre-karaoke. Eddie’d just stumbled off stage, arm-in-arm with Karen, fresh off a You’re Still The One duet that had Karen sniffling half-way through and making grabby-hands at an amused but equally-smitten Hen. Buck had only enough time to whoop as Eddie curtsied dramatically before they were calling his name.

Buck’s good at a lot of things, but singing is not one of them. He’d whined and stammered and straight-up crawled under the table before Ravi, sweet, evil Ravi, had ducked down to join him with a tray of shots. After that is—a bit of a blur, to be honest. There was some Carly Rae Jepsen, maybe? He remembers sliding back into their booth next to Eddie and watching the rest of their friends be disgustingly romantic.

That, coupled with the best friend he’s a little unbearably in love with singing the most hopeful love song ever written, is just a recipe for Buck’s heart to get a little messy. And maybe it made him bolder with his affection than usual? Clingier, anyway. He must’ve been pretty needy for Eddie to let him crash in his bed. But Eddie’s always making sure Buck has what he needs, so that isn’t anything new. And Eddie must’ve been pretty wasted too, if this total lack of personal space is any indication.

Buck doesn’t think Eddie’ll mind waking up like this—a perk of having a physically affectionate straight best friend is that he’s mostly oblivious to a classic no homo situation. He breathes deep, weight on top of him grounding instead of suffocating, lets himself tentatively wrap an arm around Eddie to hold him steady as his chest rises with the depth of his inhale, and closes his eyes again.

Except Eddie snuffles and shifts and then jams his knee directly into Buck’s bladder. After the drinks he put away tonight? Buck’s dangerously full bladder.

“Fuck,” he squeaks, desperately trying to shift Eddie to the side. “Oh—fuck.” He clenches—everything, really, because he’s too old to wet the bed and too fond of the life he has to wet Eddie’s bed, as the aftermath of that really only involves fleeing the country.

In the end, fear of that outweighs any qualms he has about waking a peacefully slumbering Eddie, and he all but shoves him off, gasping a breath of relief when Eddie’s weight shifts from his bladder to his thighs.

“Whu—what?” Eddie slurs, scrambling up with a pinched expression. “Buck? What’s wrong?” He sits up clumsily, straddling Buck’s thighs.

“Nothing,” Buck says, voice strained. “Sorry, I’m sorry, just—really need to piss. And…” He gestures uselessly between them, face contorted in apology.

“Oh,” Eddie frowns. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool,” Buck echoes, feeling hysterical. “Um, I’m gonna…” He tries to tug his legs free from under Eddie and Eddie clambers off obligingly.

Buck swings himself out of bed and hurries down the hall to the bathroom, cursing himself for everything from waking Eddie to ruining what could’ve been the cuddle session of his dreams to going and fucking falling in love with his best friend in the first place.

He lets the door swing shut behind him and absentmindedly lifts the toilet seat, shoving a hand into his boxers and then just about leaping a foot in the air when the door squeaks open again and Eddie shuffles over to stand behind him, resting his chin on Buck’s shoulder.

“Um,” Buck says, feeling dizzy for reasons that are only partly alcohol related. “Uh.”

“D’you need a hand?” Eddie asks sleepily.

Buck laughs nervously, frozen facing the wall with his hand down his boxers. “Uh. What?”

Eddie yawns, muffling the back-half of it into Buck’s shoulder and crowding closer, plastering himself along Buck’s back. Does Buck have alcohol poisoning? Is this the tequila version of an absinthe hallucination?

“D’you need me to hold it?” Eddie clarifies, nuzzling Buck’s shoulder gently.

Buck chokes on his own spit, body buckling as he pulls his hand out his underwear to thump his own chest. No, he skipped straight past the alcohol poisoning, he’s dead, not even a coma could dream this up.

Eddie steps back, frowning in concern when Buck finally spins to face him, eyes wide. His whole body is taut, stark contrast to the sleepy slump of Eddie’s shoulders.

“Do I—what?” he manages.

“Sorry, I wasn’t, like, trying to baby you,” Eddie says, looking unsure. “But after earlier—”

“Earlier,” Buck echoes. Eddie’s gaze has dropped to south of Buck’s navel, where his boxers have rucked up enough to leave a considerable amount of his happy trail on display. He yanks the waistband up quickly, and Eddie’s head snaps up too, cheeks dusted pink. Then his face, his perfect, beautiful face, falls.

“Wait, Buck—do you not remember? After karaoke?” he asks, taking a step back. “Oh, I—I didn’t think you were that drunk.”

“I wasn’t,” Buck insists, racking his brain, and oh.

The tequila-soaked memory swims up, Buck desperate for the toilet and stubborn about being able to get there himself, despite tripping over his stupid Bambi legs not two steps from their table. Eddie laughing and slinging an arm around him, half-carrying him to the men’s room. Buck standing in front of the urinal, frowning and arms flopping helplessly at his sides.

“Eddie,” he’d whined. “My hands aren’t working.”

Eddie’d laughed again, fond and warm, and asked if he wanted to sit in a stall.

“No,” Buck had pouted. “My zip…” He’d turned to Eddie, lopsided grin and beseeching eyes, and Eddie’d shaken his head and come to stand behind him. He’d undone Buck’s zipper and asked, “Alright?” and Buck had pouted some more.

“Can you help?” he’d asked, mortifyingly pathetic. Eddie’d raised an eyebrow and snorted, and then Buck had said, “Eddieee. These are my nice jeans. My hands don’t work. Your hands are perfect.”

Eddie’d muttered, “Might as well happen like this,” and slipped a hand into Buck’s jeans and—ah. Held his dick while he peed.

“Oh,” Buck says now, voice small. “Fuck, Eds, I’m sorry.”

Eddie narrows his eyes, somewhat blearily. “Why? I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want to.”

“Yeah, but I know—I don’t think we’re on the same page. I don’t—” Buck closes his eyes and presses the heels of his palms into them. “I don’t think it meant the same thing for us.”

“Oh,” Eddie’s face is suddenly unreadable. He crosses his arms over his chest and takes another step back. Buck wants to cry. He basically tricked his best friend into touching him—doesn’t matter if Eddie did it platonically, because drunk or not, genuinely needing help to piss or not, Buck’s pretty sure his own intentions were not all that innocent.

“I’m so sorry, Eds,” he says. “I was drunk as hell—that’s not an excuse, but it won’t happen again. I—I’ll be better at keeping it to myself. The last thing I ever want is to make you feel uncomfortable around me.”

Something passes over Eddie’s face. “Wait,” he says slowly, “you asked me to hold your dick as friends?” There’s an uncertain lilt to the question, like he truly doesn’t know what the answer is anymore.

“Uh,” Buck says. He could use the confusion to wrestle the cat back into the bag and then ship said bag one-way to Nicaragua, but Eddie’s looking a little lost, arms crossed in his black vest and boxers and mismatched socks. Buck can’t be the cause of that. “No. I’m sorry. I wasn’t—I swear I wasn’t trying to trick you. I was just really drunk.”

“Okay,” Eddie says, stepping forward again and reaching out to tug Buck in by the hem of his t-shirt. “What’s the problem then?” He slides a warm hand under Buck’s shirt, smoothing it across his skin.

Buck inhales sharply, blood rushing to his brain and cheeks and cock so quickly he reaches for the porcelain toilet tank behind him to steady himself. “W-wait. Were you holding my dick as friends?”

Eddie blinks at him, disbelief slowly overtaking the slack sleepiness of his facial muscles. “You thought—is that generally something your friends do for you?”

“No, but…” Buck falters. “Why—why did you, then? Why else would you…”

“I was holding your dick because I want to kiss it,” Eddie snaps, and then claps a hand over his mouth, eyes wide and horrified. “I want to kiss you,” he amends. “You, not your—I mean, sure, that too, but. Can you say something.”

The many million times Buck has daydreamed and fantasised and wished for this, he’s never anticipated fuzzy patches in his memory of it. But these things are clear: waking up with Eddie plastered to him like he wants to touch Buck at every possible point, Eddie following him in here unprompted and pressing up against him with unchecked affection, because even in his sleepy state Eddie just wants to make sure Buck has what he needs, even if what he needs is help holding his dick in a context that’s soft and sleepy and miles from sexual.

“You came in here to hold my dick,” he says, grin spreading.

Eddie’s cheeks are so rosy, rosier than they’d been with the flush of alcohol, even. “I came in here because I didn’t want your uncoordinated drunk ass pissing all over my bathroom.”

“Aw, Eds, you romantic,” Buck says, stepping closer. Eddie sighs exasperatedly, tilting his face up expectantly anyway. But, oh—

“Did we kiss already?” Buck asks, heart dropping. “Do I not remember?”

Eddie brings up one large palm to rub Buck’s sternum gently. “Nah. Didn’t seem like the right time. I kinda—I wanted to do that not-drunk.”

“Oh,” Buck says, sagging with relief. “Good.” Eddie gives him a sleepy, wonky smile, and Buck says, “I’m not drunk now.”

Eddie huffs a laugh, stepping back and patting Buck’s chest. “Nope, just hungover and harbouring the most toxic tequila-flavoured morning breath anyone’s ever had.”

“Don’t forget desperate to pee,” Buck grins. “You gonna help a guy out?” He flaps his arms limply, batting his lashes at Eddie.

Eddie grumbles unintelligibly, lips twitching with amusement as he bodily rearranges Buck to face the toilet again. Buck melts back into the cradle of his arms, safe and sleepy and sated enough that his dick doesn’t do any more than he needs it to right now, even with Eddie’s warm hand wrapped around it.

They stumble back to bed, Buck belatedly remembering he’s not washed his hands but deciding not to care if Eddie doesn’t, and when Buck flops down, Eddie’s right back on top of him.

Buck wheezes as the breath’s punched out of his lungs, and it becomes a laugh, and this time he wraps both arms firmly around Eddie to hold him tight. Eddie exhales into the crook of his neck, breath hot and a little gross, and then lifts his head to press a close-mouthed kiss to the corner of Buck’s lips.

“This one doesn’t count,” he murmurs against Buck’s cheek. “I just can’t believe you thought I wanted to hold your dick as friends, so. It’s an almost-kiss. An IOU. Tomorrow I’m gonna kiss you till one of us passes out. Not as friends.”

“As enemies,” Buck whispers solemnly and then grunts when Eddie digs an elbow into his ribs. “As anything you want, s’long as I can keep the kissing and the dick-holding and—this.” He tightens his arms around Eddie, feeling his chest reverberate against Buck’s as he laughs.

“Deal,” he agrees, nestling closer, messy hair getting in Buck’s mouth as he shifts. “But just so you know what I want—and I don’t mean to skip ahead—though I guess we’re doing the regular dating bases all out of order anyway—” He sighs, deep and satisfied as he gets comfortable, and says, “I’m ready to have and to dick-hold you every day of the week, you know?”

Buck didn’t know, but now he does, and in eleven months’ time when he and Eddie are saying these words in front of their friends and family, sans penis, not one single person can blame him for lurching forward and kissing the adoring smirk off Eddie’s face miles before poor ordained Bobby gives him the go-ahead. Doing true love in order is overrated, anyway.