#but a possibility that is more likely: does she look like a Robin to you guys? I think I could see that...

[aventoru]

LOVED the Wedding HCs, can we do another for Mydei, Aventurine and Argenti? 😍

Thank you for the food 🙂‍↕️

WEDDING HCS

ft. mydei, aventurine, argenti, gepard / other ver.

tags : nontraditional weddings, chaos

a/n : pretty sure i said this in the other wedding hcs but i have little knowledge abt weddings so i tried to make it as ambiguous as possible, hope u enjoy!!

MYDEI

he wants it to be lowkey, but with the chrysos heirs, nothing can truly be private. so, although not many are invited, everyone still knows about it (phainon’s fault) and he’s receiving congratulations left and right on the streets

you two get married at castrum kremnos because it’s HIS CITY ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥 and he let’s you plan most of it, although i feel like he would prepare the rings

in the end, it’s a simple wedding, nothing too fancy but still has some degree of grandeur because, well, he’s a prince

his vows are surprisingly sweet for a man with such little words and it even makes you tear up a little

you both honor his mother on the wedding day because although she’s not physically here, he knows she’s watching from above 🥹

he remains grumpy for the first half of the wedding, refusing to join in on the fun but once he gets his hands on a little booze over a drinking competition…things absolutely spiral out of control

phainon and the triplets rope him into all sorts of shenanigans which are all captured in the photos

by the end of the night he becomes a clingy drunk (YESSS) begging for you to get him home (SO CUTE)

AVENTURINE

you two have a private wedding with no guests which isn’t really a surprise since the IPC and him are strictly business

he rents out and plans the most lavish wedding with all the money he has, just for it to be only you two. i imagine it would be in an open space; either a vast flower field or by the beach so you can see the stars at night

will not hesitate to buy you the most beautiful aventurine ring (see what i did there) and a crazy expensive wedding outfit

you go through the traditions by yourselves — saying your vows, exchanging rings, having your first dance, cutting the cake,…it’s gentle and sweet, like your love for each other

you spend the rest of the night by each others’ side admiring the view and the newly adorned rings on your fingers. it’s peaceful, just how you like it

he doesn’t say it out loud, but you know aventurine misses his family, wishing they were here on his wedding day, so the only thing you can do is hold onto him tighter

“i love you, Kakavasha,” you call him by his real name. you’re the only one allowed to do that.

“i love you too, (name).” for the first time in his life, aventurine feels like he’s the luckiest person alive

ARGENTI

everything is BEAUTIFUL. him, you, the venue, the rings, the invites, the marriage certificates, everything. as a knight of beauty, argenti is already plenty beautiful **but it’s amplified even more at your wedding

he’s very invested in the wedding planning, even more than you sometimes. you two settle for a red and white theme (it’s his signature, how can you not?), with both your outfits being white and decorated with red roses to match. yeah, there are red roses everywhere

the wedding is small, with only your close friends and acquaintances invited, including those he encountered on penacony

the day comes and the venue looks ethereal with every minute detail adjusted to perfection

the moment argenti begins his vows, there’s suddenly perfect lighting and a gentle breeze that makes him look like he’s in a movie (where does that come from???)

but despite everyone being in awe at his beauty, he still believes your beauty, both inside and out, outshines everything (AWWW)

once the rings are on your fingers, the calm, regal atmosphere instantly vanishes as robin starts DJ-ing and boothill starts breakdancing 😭

of course you and argenti join in on the fun, because argenti sees a beauty in that too

GEPARD

sooo golden retriever coded even when it comes to his own wedding

let’s you plan everything, just sits there and nods along and calls you pretty LMAO. he pays for everything with his money too omg

the wedding isn’t too big, but big enough for all his friends (and your friends) to come and celebrate. this is probably the first proper celebration since the stellaron was removed so it’s somewhat of a big deal

for the first time (in forever) gepard is out of his uniform and in a suit and he looks SO GOOD.

he immediately starts tearing up once he sees you walk down the aisle in your beautiful outfit. is in disbelief that’s going to get married to the love of his life

writes literally the sweetest vows ever and then cries the rest of the way. bronya, as the host, has to calm him down LOL

gives you a BIG hug and delicate kiss, he’s over the moon now that you’re finally married. after all the procedures, the rest of the wedding is pretty chaotic once the party gets started

lynx still repeatedly questions what you see in gepard (just kidding) but congratulates you anyway. serval performs all her best songs at your wedding and rocks it!!

the night ends with you both exhausted as gepard carries you back home, demanding cuddles and time spent with you alone;)

masterlist

[a-bad-case-of-the-stephs]

KAY my take on Steph’s most recent appearance in the preview for Wonder Woman #23:

Now, you might be thinking: “Tumblr user a-bad-case-of-the-stephs, what POSSIBLY could you have to complain about! You’re always saying ‘I miss Stephanie Brown’ and ‘Where is my daughter Stephanie Brown’ and such things. Now she’s here! You should be rejoicing!”

Well, for one, I am! Stephanie brown, on her own, not in a panel of miscellaneous bats, speaking lines of dialogue, in 2025!! I’m happy for her!! I’m overjoyed at Proof that Steph has a degree of remaining relevance!! However I would be even happier if she was a smidge more in character!

Now, you might be thinking: “but tumblr user a-bad-case-of-the-stephs, how can that be? Didn’t Steph act a very similar way in the Robin 80 Page Giant when she meets Black Canary for the first time? How about her similar attitude in Gotham Knights #22? you Love Gotham Knights #22! Don’t you remember Gotham Knights #22?”

I do! I promise I remember Gotham Knights #22! And the Robin 80 Page Giant! But I still think there’s a few key differences in play here! Let’s break it down.

When Steph meets Black Canary for the first time in the Robin 80 Page Giant, she’s immediately starstruck. But she’s also still distinctly Steph! Almost immediately after meeting her, Steph tries angling to be Black Canary’s partner and then, when rejected, to be her apprentice. Steph has a purpose, and her admiration doesn’t render her too shy to act like herself: she’s just as gregarious and outgoing and forthright as always.

And this continues on when Steph completely uninvited returns to Dinah’s the next day, and makes her case to learn from Black Canary again. And, when rejected again, she keeps pushing, and when Dinah brushes her off again, Steph is still at it, offering to do her errands. When Black Canary finally assents, Steph leaps to start, asking ‘What do we do first?’. Noticeably, Steph’s core characteristics (her stubbornness, her defiance, and her determination) are intact and in play. Her admiration of Black Canary makes her giddy and overeager, but she is never cowed and her actions are all rooted in who she is.

“But tumblr user a-bad-case-of-the-stephs!!” You might cry, “there’s a big difference here! Steph doesn’t already admire or even seem to know of Black Canary until they meet! Sure she’s awestruck by meeting a female hero she looks up to, but it’s not the same situation at all!”

And you’d be right to say so. Damn, if only we had an example of how Steph acted when meeting a hero she looked up to since childhood and who had massive significance to her.. Oh wait! The Batman!

It isn’t really useful to analyze Steph’s first meeting with Bruce in Detective #648, because from a doyalist POV, Steph’s childhood admiration of Batman hadn’t been established yet. But in the retelling of her backstory and where her childhood admiration of Batman is established in Secret Origins 80 Page Special, we also see a retelling of her first meeting with Batman, and lo and behold: turns out she is able to form a complete sentence!

“Ah, but tumblr user a-bad-case-of-the-stephs! You still have forgotten Gotham Knights #22!”

Fine, let’s talk about Gotham Knights #22 then. On first blush, the style of Steph’s dialogue seems mostly the same! She flounders with her words briefly, she rambles, and she is overeager. But let’s take a closer look at what’s different. In Gotham Knights #22, Steph is not overly apologetic. This makes sense, Steph is a character who deals with self doubt but who does not show it very openly. She is self assured and blunt and makes her decisions quickly. While she has, and does, apologize when she thinks she’s done something wrong, I wouldn’t say shes the type to apologize for a faux passé in a social situation, and I can’t see her doing so three separate times in between her handful of sentences like she does in the preview.

Additionally, although in GK #22 Steph trips over a word once or twice, she is never downright stuttering and she isn’t nearly as shy. This is another strong element of Steph’s character. She is not bashful, she is not nervous and sheepish. Even as she is obviously somewhat nervous in GK #22 she’s also distinctly herself. Steph doesn’t become any less bold.

“So sure, maybe Steph isn’t the most in character she could possibly ideally be in this - what - one page of a comic that’s not at all about her. Is that really such a big deal? If you agree she has at least acted nervously and ramble-y in the face of other heroes she’s looked up to, what’s the big fuss about?”

Well, first and foremost, I love Steph and again, am super happy to see her in something current! I wanted to break it down a little, and would probably be making a similar post talking about Steph’s history with meeting heroes she admires even if I agreed 100% with the execution here!

But also, well, because I’ve neglected to mention one little tiny detail. Context.

When she meets Black Canary, Steph is 15 years old. She’s a scrappy, fresh, a new-to-vigilanting high schooler who is desperate for some real training from someone who will take her seriously. Black Canary is the third superhero Steph had ever met at that point, the second to give her the time of day, and the very first to give her the time of day who was also an actual adult instead of a teenaged boy a year younger than her. That influences how she acts- a fucking lot.

Same goes for Gotham Knights #22: context plays a big role here. She’s been struggling to prove herself to a cold and aloof Batman since she met him, and now is her chance! She’s also still only 16, with, again, still limited experience with other heroes.

Today, Steph is no longer 15, and She’s met quite a few more heroes and she’s been a vigilante for quite a few more years. Besides that, she’s also met another childhood favorite superhero - and we all know how that went - and the disastrous result likely should’ve by all means instilled in her an inkling of a ‘don’t meet your idols’ notion. At the very least a degree more caution, or a degree less hero worship.

I’m not saying it’s impossible for Steph as an adult hero to look up to Wonder Woman, or be a little shell shocked in her presence, but I do think the execution works and fits better for the character she was at 15 than the hero in her own right she is (supposed to be) today, and for the reasons I’ve gone into above, I don’t think the characterization is quite right even for that 15 year old. So if it’s too meek, too shy, too untethered and aimless for 15 or 16 year old Steph characterization, I really don’t think it works well for an older, more experienced Steph.

And I think it matters especially because Steph’s age is still weirdly in flux, as unfortunately some comic authors (Batgirls.. cough cough) have thought of her and wrote her as a young teen instead of the adult she should by all means be.

Again, I don’t think the concept is totally flawed, and I don’t think my small nitpicks mean Steph is being written HORRIBLY out of character or anything, but I do think it could be better, and I wanted to provide my thoughts on why, given how rare a focus on Steph is nowadays!

[munsonify]

hey!! i was rewatching season 3 and steve is just so cute, im sorry but if he tried to flirt with me at scoops ahoy, i would say yes!! i was thinking about a fic where they knew of each other in high school but were never friends then she runs into him working at scoops ahoy and he starts flirting BUT SHE ACTUALLY IS LIKE FLIRTING BACK AND HES SO FLUSTERED. and like they go out and it’s lowkey cute and afterwards is just some good classic steve smut

MUCH LOVE 💕

hey!! i adore this idea!! i’ve always loved season 3 steve and idc what anyone else says. sending love and apologies for taking so long, i hope you enjoyed this!!! (this fic ended up way longer than i expected im so sorry i dragged some of this shit on).

shoots and scoops

pairing. steve harrington x fem!reader

summary. after steve boldly starts flirting with you - his old classmate - at scoops ahoy, you take the opportunity and run with it.

warning/s. 18+ smut mdni, harmless flirty banter, possible ooc steve, steve calling r honey, steve calling r an idiot (affectionate), kissing/making out, hickeys, body worship kind of? (f!&m!receiving), oral (f!receiving), fingering (f!receiving), handjob, piv sex (protected), hand holding during sex, alludes to aftercare

word count. 6560

———

“well ahoy beautiful!”

your first instinct was to laugh - a deep, chest heavy chuckle that startled you when you felt it coming. you choked it down quickly, a slight wheeze slipping out in replace. it sounded slightly of a scoff.

the man standing in front of you was the last person you’d think would be flirting with you. steve harrington, whose hair was finally being constrained in a lousy sailor hat, stood with a flirtatious smile that has never been thrown your way. you know he hated how flat it looked, even if you barely spoke to him during high school. the man who always had every strand of hair placed perfectly would be caught dead before messing with his routine.

that was until now, which you assumed was not his choice.

it was a split second decision for you to respond the way you did. what the hell, right?

“ahoy handsome. nice hat,” you teased with a giggle. your eyes were bright behind your lashes as you look up at the man. he knew then he was a goner. a lump formed in his throat and his cheeks tinted pink quickly as he reaches up and takes it off.

you hear steve mumble something about a ‘stupid uniform’ as he drops the hat to the ground. in a weak attempt to try and redeem himself, he starts to ramble, moving away from your last comment. you’d never seen him get this way.

admittedly, you loved it.

“what can i get you, sweetheart? u.s.s. butterscotch? a banana split? plain chocolate? my number?”

you giggled at his last offer. for a second you thought, and for a second or two longer you faking-ly thought some more. you needed to make sure you didn’t come off as desperate. or at least too desperately.

you were honestly loving this attention.

“depends. how much does the latter cost?” offering him a sweet grin.

“just a date with me.”

your grin grew, and you knew you couldn’t resist.

“give me a scoop of u.s.s. butterscotch too and we’ll call it a deal.”

———

the moment you left with his number in one hand and a bowl of ice cream in the other, steve whipped around to find robin. he found her with her whiteboard propped up, marker with the cap still on. he was quick to snatch it from her hand, putting down two tallies under ‘you rule’.

“two? steve it was one girl,” robin protested, trying to wipe away the second tally. steve was quicker, moving the board to sit next to his discarded hat.

“she flirted back and i bagged a date with her. that deserves two.” he spun around to face the front of the store again, smoothing his hair back with a smug smirk. “i’m so back.”

———

a soft knock at your front door made your heart skip a beat. it’d been two days since you’d ran into steve at scoops, the flimsy napkin he wrote his number on the back of still on your nightstand, folded neatly. his voice sounded more smooth and confident over the phone. you could tell he talked himself up before answering to cool his nerves.

you checked yourself out in the mirror in passing, before moving to the door, opening it after a long, deep breath.

there steve was, hair done in his usual way. he wore a nice, short sleeved shirt that showed off his freckles biceps nicely, and a pair of his nicest blue jeans. you nearly poked fun at him for finally covering up his thighs, but you stopped yourself at the sight of the flowers in his hands. you settled on something a little less narrow. you definitely didn’t want him to think you were staring at him or anything.

“hey there sailor,” you greeted with a small smile, your eyes bright as you stare up at him. you tried looking in his eyes to avoid his toned arms, though his eyes were just as disarming. they’re a warm honey that make you fold.

“hey you,” his smile was just as pretty as his eyes. steve held the flowers in front of him, and you noticed how tight his grip was on the stems. was he as nervous as you were right now?

your heart skipped another beat at the way your fingers brushed against his when he passes you the flowers. in a desperate attempt to contain yourself, you welcomed him in and thanked him, rushing around to find a vase to set the beautiful flowers inside of. you weren’t worried about cutting the stems down or filling it with water just yet, only worried about your heart not falling out of your chest and straight into steve’s hands.

whether good or bad, you knew this was gonna be a long night.

———

it was a sweet night. steve treated you to dinner and a drive-in movie in which you spoke through most of. much to your surprise, you found it very easy to talk to the man. he was easy going in a way he never was in high school. his usual nonchalant attitude wasn’t as prominent anymore. you liked it.

“ya know,” steve whispered, leaning over towards you. his lips were right next to your face, only a few inches away from gracing your skin as he spoke. you were glad it was so dark, hopefully your blush wasn’t too prominent. “i betcha i could do that.”

by that, you were assuming steve meant karate. up on the screen was ralph macchio, side by side with mr miyagi in the second rendition of the karate kid. a small giggle rippled through your chest, eyes rolling playful as you turn a little to look at him. your faces were inches away, noses nearly brushing against each other. you could feel his warm breath against your skin. it smelt faintly of spearmint - he must’ve slipped himself a mint after dinner.

“you’re an idiot,” you teased, staring right into his eyes. “there’s no way in hell you could do that. you’re no macchio!”

“i am too! you haven’t seen my kickass fighting skills yet, you wouldn’t know,” steve exclaimed, still in a quiet tone. he’s speaking like he’s gotten into loads of fights before. “but i can promise you i could clear him, easy.”

steve was so certain in himself. you always knew him to be a little cocky, so this wasn’t much of a surprise to you. what was a surprise was how much you liked it. god were you screwed.

———

the drive back home was nice. you spoke to each other about how you enjoyed the movie, steve still convinced he could do karate. he even tried showing off, whacking his hand off the steering wheel like an idiot. that and the little wince he let out sent you into a fit of giggles you struggled to control. it wasn’t until the man shook his head, whispering a small ‘alright, alright’ that you managed to suppress them.

what really pushed you into silence was that same hand moving to rest against your thigh as steve drove. the sudden display of affection made you freeze. you weren’t repulsed or ungrateful for the sudden touch, only caught off guard. your teeth began to toy with your bottom lip in a weak attempt to contain yourself. you were so glad you were pulling into your driveway.

one of steve’s large hands pressed against the small of your back, gently guiding you to the front door of your house. he heard the way your breath caught in your throat and stayed there. the boy hadn’t even let go of you yet and you were already mourning the loss of his touch. in just a few minutes you knew he’d let go and be gone.

“i loved talking to you tonight,” steve spoke, his voice soft. he seemed fond, content.

“me too,” you told him, a small smile playing on your lips. it was almost shy. you watched as steves eyes flickered down to them, shiny with lipgloss you recently reapplied. the hand on your back moved to gently cup the side of your face. his thumb swiped slowly against your cheek, eyes gazing into yours.

“can i kiss you?” all you could do was nod. steve’s free hand found its way to your hip, gently pulling you towards him. his body slotted against yours perfectly, broad chest and strong arms practically enclosing you in. man did he smell good.

steve’s lips finally found his way towards yours, soft and inviting. they slotted between yours in a kiss that made your head swirl. if he didn’t have such a good grip on you you were sure you’d fall over from dizziness.

the kiss only lasted for a few too short seconds, your hands finding their way to his chest sometime during then. it took you a few moments to compose yourself enough to let your eyes flutter open. when you did, you caught glimpse of steve’s pretty eyes gazing at you, cheeks rosy pink and warm.

he let a soft sigh slip from his mouth. in a way, it felt painful for him to pull away from you. steve let his fingertips graze against your cheekbone, before dropping his hand to his side. the grip on your hip, however, stayed. his lips parted gently, mind swirling with thoughts he tried to get ahold of. he wanted to say something, but you really had a grip on his lungs. he wanted to stay, follow you to your bedroom. he wanted to feel your soft skin against his. he wanted to know what you tasted like. god, he had to stop. he didn’t want to mess things up by being to ahead of himself.

“would you wanna stay?” steve’s eyes went wide. everything from the tone of your voice to the way you stared up at him through your eyelashes screamed you wanted him too. needed him to. you about look as desperately as he felt. and, just like you before, all he could do was nod.

gripping the collar of his shirt, you gently pulled steve back down for another kiss. it was more heated this time, deep and needy, slow. a low hum reverberated in his chest, rattling against yours, eventually reaching your perfect lips. you blindly began to search behind you, a hand desperately trying to find the handle to your door.

steve helped, breaking the kiss for only a few moments, opening the door and pushing the two of you through it. the only thing he did was make sure it shut behind you two before his lips were back on yours, he let you slowly guide him in a stumble towards your room, arms holding each other steady as you make your way down the lengthy hallway.

on any other occasion, you’d be a little embarrassed by how cluttered your room was right now. your dirty laundry basket was overflowing, failed outfits from before the date in a small pile somewhere on the floor. the only thing you seemed to care about was getting steve out of these tight jeans of his.

once you secured your bedroom door shut, the man was careful with guiding you towards your slightly untidied bed. he let you lay down first, watching as you rest up on your elbows towards the top of your bed. steve was quick to climb up right after you, and even quicker with his hands, pawing at your waist as he leans down to connect your lips again.

a hand found its way to his hair, threading your fingers through it to tug his face closer to yours. it was a deep kiss, one that made you dizzy again. you were grateful for the soft landing behind your head in the case you do need to fall back.

steve’s lips parted after a while of your slow make out, tongue brushing against your lips in a plead. you let your lips part immediately, letting your tongue meet his, warm and desperate for more. finally, the man adjusted himself above you, gently moving to rest between your now parted thighs. when your lower halves connected you realized just how much trouble you’d be in.

his thick, heavy bulge pressed right against your covered heat when he settled in, letting his weight rest against you gently. even then, with the barriers between you two, you could tell steve was big. with the pressure still settled between your thighs, he adjusted himself slightly to rest against one of his forearms, pressing it right next to your side. his other hand started slowly exploring your body.

steve didn’t let his touch breach your clothes yet, despite the both of you desperately wanting him to. he was being respectfully, hand caressing up your waist, smoothing against your body until it settled beneath one of your tits, cupping slightly, yet not touching the supple skin. the boy could feel the way your bottom lip pouted out slightly into the kiss.

with that, steve pulled slowly away from the kiss, a small string of spit connected your lips briefly before it snaps. his eyes slowly opened, meeting yours in a droopy, heavy stare. somehow, he looked even more desperate than before. his hand drops down from its place beneath your chest, fingers beginning to toy with the hem of your shirt. he looked into your eyes in a desperate plead.

“can i?” steve whispered, not willing to move any further without your permission. you were quick to nod, almost too quick. if you weren’t so pent up you were sure you’d kick yourself for it.

you helped the man slide your shirt off your body, watching him discard of it on your floor amongst the other clothing of yours. steve still didnt seem to notice the mess, though, evidently preoccupied with something else. his eyes scanned your torso as respectfully as he could manage. he seemed to be memorizing your smooth skin - he admired the way your waist and hips curved (even through your shorts), the way your stomach pudges at, the way your tits sat perfectly inside of your bra.

that’s exactly where one of steves hands went next, behind your back to feel for the clasp of your bra. you gave him an encouraging nod, eyes trailing against his face, catching the freckles against his cheekbone. he was quick with pinching the clasp undone, something you were sure he’d practiced tons of times. while he was quick to unclasp your bra, he was slow to pull your straps down. steve let his fingers dance against the smooth skin of your arms, goosebumps waking at each dusted touch.

his eyes dropped down to your chest again the moment you bra was off. you saw the way his lips parted slightly, catching a glimpse of the way his adam’s apple bobbed as he lets in a quick, small breath. just before he could bring himself to start kissing on you, he felt your hand rest right against his chest again, gentle and needy. you gently tugged at the fabric of his tight shirt that was frankly hiding nothing, eyes pleading up at him for just a little look at him.

steve was quick to oblige, tugging off his shirt to expose his tanned upper body. dark, wiry hair spanned across his chest, eventually thinning down into a line that disappears into his too tight jeans. like a moth drawn to a light, your careful fingers found their way to his broad chest, nails scraping through the hair and against his skin delicately. you could feel the way steve’s stomach lurched and his abs tense slightly when your touch starts grazing down towards his stomach and happy trail. you were memorizing him the same way he was memorizing you, yet somehow, it felt different to him. the way you admired him with your gentle touch and your soft gaze tugged at his heart.

he was in desperate need of a distraction before he combusts. steve, as gentle as ever, slowly lowered himself against you again, large hands guiding you back down on the bed with him. unlike last time you leaned down, you let your back hit your soft mattress, head resting on one of your pillows with a pretty floral design on it. you let your hand rest on his lower tummy as steve’s face leans towards yours again, lips capturing yours in another breathtaking kiss.

you planted your other hand right on his shoulder, smoothing it against his skin in attempts to ground yourself in the moment, temporarily satiating your need for more. one of steve’s hands found its way to your waist, fingers tracing your skin, tickling you slightly. the other found its rightful place back beneath where your breast sits, cupping slightly. the smirk he gave into the kiss when he felt your breathing hitch against his thumb was diabolical.

steve broke the kiss just after that, lips trailing to your jawline in a slow, determined manner. he didn’t try and rush anything. he wanted to take his time with you, explore your body, truly feel you. steve let his lips kiss all the way to the pulse point on your neck before he truly latched his lips to you. you let your head rest back a little more, giving him all the room in the world to kiss where he pleases. it took you a second to realize his true intentions here, though the moment you felt his teeth begin to graze your skin, it clicked. you almost wished he would stop making you so dizzy.

once the man sucked a delicate, soon to be purple hickey to your neck, he let his lips trace your body even further down your neck. steve’s mouth trailed to the center of your chest before his head started to tilt up slightly to look at you, a quick check in to make sure you were still okay. he could feel how quick your heartbeat had picked up. the moment your eyes locked with his he knew to keep going. his slow kisses found their way to one of your breasts, the hand underneath reaching a little farther up to squeeze gently, lips grazing your soft, plush skin.

steve wrapped his lips wrap around your hardened nipple for only a few short moments, warm tongue grazing it, earning a pretty whine from your mouth. he received the same reaction when he gave your other breast the same attention.

the hands you had on steve’s body slipped away from him reluctantly as he travels down lower, intimate kisses pressed against your stomach and your sides. you weren’t quite sure where to put your hands yet, letting them hover above the two of you slightly until you were sure. just like your hands, steve eventually found his way to the hem of your jeans, his kisses pausing for a moment as he hovers over your clothed cunt. that’s when it hits you just how worked up he had you. all of those warm kiss and gentle touches have you aching for release, and more importantly, him.

steve’s pause had you worried, your eyebrow quirking up as you searched his face for some sort of hesitation or worry, any inkling of a ‘no, i don’t want to’. you saw none of the on his face.

“out of all the places you decided to stop,” you mumbled at breathlessly. “this is where you landed?”

steve let out one of his chuckles that make your tummy burn hotly, watching as he peaks up at you through his eyelashes. you began to lean up on your elbows again to get a better look at the boy. “just wanted to make sure you were okay, you idiot.”

you tried to contain your giggles, a few slipping out past your lips that were quirked up into a small smile. you gave him yet another nod, taking your lower lip between your teeth as you watched steve roll his eyes affectionately at you. his hands found their way to the buttons of your shorts, tugging your zipper down quickly afterwards. you lifted your hips up gently to help him shimmy them off of you, watching him tug them down and toss them with everything else of yours.

before you could let your hips settle back down, one of steve’s hands found its way to your lower back, holding you up for just a few short moments. he was quick to grab a pillow from beside your head, and even quicker to wedge it beneath your hips. you’re unbelievable was all you could think as you settled back down onto the bed.

heat spread up your neck and to your face the moment it hit you just how intimate he was being with you, broad shoulder placed between your spread thighs, face hovering over your lace panties. they were soaked through, you could feel it. even worse, you knew steve could see it, smell it even. and, as if steve could hear your thoughts, he brought a firm, soothing hand up to your hip. his thumb began to smooth against your bare skin, helping you settle down properly again.

every little touch he gave you was electric. a small zip flashed through the delicate skin of your thigh the moment steve’s other hand found its way there. though cold, though new, that touch soothed you too. he left small kisses on the skin of your stomach as he began to whisper to you.

“lay back, honey. let me take care of you.” fuck. you nodded to him in a haze, laying back into the bed comfortably. steve continued to leave small kisses against your exposed lower body, touch relaxing you even further into the bed until he finally made the move. his lips kissed right covered clit, making you jump ever so slightly. your slick made your panties transparent, leaving nothing to his imagination. soft kisses trailed down slow until his lips found your pulsing opening.

steve left a firm kiss right against it, letting it linger, before his tongue lolled out of his mouth. flat and eager, he let it slide from your leaking hole back onto your clit again, applying the tiniest bit of pressure against it before pulling away. an exasperated gasp left your mouth, a hand of yours moving to your forehead to rub slightly in irritation.

you always knew steve was a tease. he upheld that reputation a while with the ladies. you just didn’t think he was this much of a tease. he was working you up beyond belief. this was the complete opposite of how he’s been with you thus far - straightforward, easy going.

steve let his warm tongue connect with your clit once more, swirling around it slowly, before pulling away. this time, even with your desperate whine, he didn’t leave you hanging. his fingers hooked the sides of your panties, tugging at them enough to get your attention. you lifted your hips up long enough to let him tug them past your hips and down your thighs, before finally letting yourself rest down.

“so pretty honey,” steve whispered to you, hands finding their places back on your hip and thigh. you weren’t quite sure whether he was talking about you or your pussy - either way, it made your body heat up dramatically. without much of a thought, one of your hands found its way down to his, the one tracing your waist. he caught on to what you wanted quickly, grasping your hand in a gentle hold.

steve went through the same motions as before. after slowly spreading your folds apart with his unoccupied hand, his lips found your exposed clit in a warm kiss. he could feel the way it twitched against his flesh, and god did he love it. his lips trailed down to your opening again, watching as your arousal slowly drips out of you, leaking down to the puckered hole beneath it. a soft kiss placed against your opening was followed once again by his warm tongue, slowly sliding up through your folds again.

a breathy moan slipped out of both of your mouths at the feeling, only yours was followed by yet another as steve began to slowly lick at your clit. his tongue swirled and licked at the sensitive nerves with skill. you couldn’t help but bring your other hand down to his soft hair, threading through his locks gently to ground yourself, giving his hand a squeeze.

you could feel steve tense up, and you worried that maybe you’d done something you shouldn’t have. was he really that stuck up about his hair? you realized quickly how wrong you were when you saw the way his eyes fluttered shut for a few moments in pure bliss, lips wrapping right around your clit and sucking gently, almost as a thank you. you let out a choked moan the moment his lips latched and sucked, thighs tensing up slightly.

you were about to crumble hard, undoing all of the glorious work steve put in to work you up. he even doubled down, the hand not holding yours finding its way to your cunt, his middle finger collected up some of your arousal that was leaking from you. and, just as his tongue swirled around your clit once more, steve eased his thick finger inside of you slowly. a small gasp broke out from your mouth, feeling him pump his finger in and out of your tight hole. it wasn’t until several deep strokes that he pushed in a second finger, stretching you open, tugging a few desperate moans from your chest.

by accident, you’d tugged on the roots of steve’s hair. he didn’t seem to mind in the slightest, a guttural moan hitting against your clit, sending shockwaves up your body.

“i’m so glad i don’t have that stupid hat on anymore,” steve mumbled against you, lips a little too preoccupied with sucking deliciously on your clit.

“i kinda liked it,” you let out breathlessly, trying so hard not to fall apart too quickly. instead of verbally responding, steve simply curled his fingertips into a spongy spot in your body you didn’t even know someone could reach. your eyes rolled back into your head at the feeling, letting out a broken moan. it was all so much - you could feel the pressure building up in your stomach, and quickly.

steve’s fingers kept brushing against the perfect spot, his lips and his tongue somehow knowing exactly what you needed from him. your chest started to heave slightly as you rapidly approached your orgasm, grip on his hair tightening slightly, urging him to keep going. your moans sung out for him to hear, uncontrollable and needy. you tried to warn the boy, though your words came out in a slight mess right as everything hit you.

pleasure filled every inch of you as steve works you through your high. the wet squelching coming from your sopping cunt only encouraged him more. your whole body tensed up for what felt like forever, hand gripping his as you grind slightly onto him, desperate for the last bit of friction before he pulls away, whispering thank you’s to him. he gave your clit a final farewell - a soft kiss - as he slowly sliding his fingers from your cunt. you looked down in bliss just in time to see steve, king steve, wrap his pink lips around his fingers and moan at the taste of you.

hesitantly, you let go of his hand, gripping ahold of his shoulder instead as you gently tugged the man up the bed towards you. the poor guy was still stuck inside his jeans. somehow, he hadn’t torn the threads in the front, his hard, thick cock pressing against the coarse fabric in an attempts to release itself. once steve was properly hovered over you again, your hands went straight to his belt buckle, only you right before undoing it, looking right up at his dark, lust filled eyes. his eyes darted across your face worriedly, before letting it drop, shaking his in disbelief.

“funny,” he whispered, gently pressing himself against your hands further. you gave him a teasing smile right as you began fumbling with his belt. you wish you had the patience to admire just how nice the leather on it was.

steve let you fumble around with his zipper, only assisting you in kicking off his jeans, keeping it far away from the two of you. he was still situated between your thighs, this time his hips slotted perfectly between them, knocking them wide open. your hands found their way back to his soft tummy as he leans in closer, face inches away from yours, noses knocking against each others. your eyes were still focused downwards, though, letting your hands drift towards his steadily leaking tip. you traced it oh so gently through the fabric of his boxers, close enough to his face to hear him inhale sharply.

your fingers began to trace the length of his cock, feeling the curve he has to him. the loss of his fingers inside of you made you feel empty, and all you could think about was how perfect he’d feel inside of you. your hand gripped his length through the fabric and squeezed gently, watching as another splotch of pre cum appears in its wake. you were much less of a tease than steve, you realized, giving into him quickly as you slowly tug off his boxers, helping him discard them.

finally, you got a full, unfiltered and unblocked view of steve’s cock. truthfully, you’d never seen one quite as nice to look at. his tip was a bright red, still leaking pre cum, veins lining his length perfectly. he was heavy in your hands when you grasped him again, lips lifting into a pleased smile at the sound of his soft gasp. you gave him another gently squeeze, slowly twisting your hand up his length, and down just as slow, smearing what you’d collected at his tip down with it. your hand somehow seemed so small compared to his cock, and you loved it.

“need you inside of me, stevie,” you choked out, finally peeling your eyes away from his dick, looking straight into his eyes when he looked right back up at you. you batted your eyelashes at him, eyes begging for him as you continue to slowly stroke him. steve stares at you with an almost blank expression, almost like he wasn’t quite listening, little whines rippling through his throat as his eyebrows knit together.

you stop stroking him at his base, squeezing his thickness once again, touch not leaving him. “said i need you inside f’me, stevie, please?”

you watched as he finally processed what you said, eyes going wide, head nodding rapidly as he scrambles back to his jeans to fish out his wallet, tugging out a condom he so conveniently had stashed away in there. this is the first time tonight you’d seen steve so at loss for words, and you weren’t sure why.

he did, though. this was the first time since he’s been in the dating pool that he’s felt a real, honest connection with someone. sure, you guys had only been on this one date. he knew that. there was just something about you and you’re kindness, your humor, your passion for everything that had him swooning. intimacy was a lot different when you were with someone you could admire like that. not to mention how hot you are.

steve fumbled through slipping the condom on properly, and it didn’t help you were beneath him smiling patiently up at him like you were. the moment he successfully managed it on, he found his way back down to your level, faces finally close again. steve has an arm rested right beside your head, his hand gently brushing all your hair away from your face. he wanted to see you properly, look you in your eyes.

you gave him a reassuring nod, telling him that yes, you were ready - that you wanted him. with a hand cradling the top of your head and the other gripping the base of his throbbing cock, steve lined himself up with your entrance. he was gentle with the way he pressed himself into you, your arousal still plentiful, helping him ease his way inside of you better.

“fuck,” you let out, eyebrows and nose scrunched up at the way steve was stretching you out. he let you adjust to him inch by inch, knowing how difficult it is to fit him at first. you brought a hand up to his face, cupping his jaw to get him to look at you as he slid in the rest of the way, bottoming you out, eyes locking at the perfect time.

“there ya go honey,” steve whispered, lips pressing against your forehead as he encouraged you, his cockiness finally slipping through again. “i know, tight fit.”

you could tell why he put so much effort into working you up the way he did - getting you in the mood, kissing you all over, filling you up with his fingers. it made this ten times easier on the both of you. he liked doing all of it regardless, making you feel good that is. he liked being of service.

when steve pulled his lips away from your forehead, you were quick to bring his attention to your own lips, pulling the man down gently to connect them with yours. it was a deep, desperate, wet kiss, something you craved so badly right now. that’s when he started to rock his hips into yours, slowly rolling himself down against you. he let himself test the waters, see how easy it would be for you to adjust fully.

luckily for the both of you, after a few slow, deep strokes, you adjusted just fine. the arm not rested by your head found its way to your waist, fingers trailing your soft skin as he begins to find a rhythm to fall into. he picked up the pace a little, hips moving just a bit faster as you make out. you let your hand move to the back of steve’s head, fingers threading once again in his beautiful hair. it wasn’t until you rested your other hand against his chest, smoothing against it that you found out what really gets to him.

the feeling of your nails scrapping against his scalp, your hand firm against his chest, and your dripping cunt squeezing around him was fatal. his hips stutter and snap harder than he intended, a desperate moan falling from his lips and directly into yours. your body jolted slightly at the snap of his hips, a moan falling out of your mouth along with his.

“sorry, sorry you just- fuck you can’t just do that,” steve rambled out, breaking the kiss and slowing down his thrusts. you gave him the cheekiest smile, raising your eyebrows at him.

“why not, handsome?” you questioned, circling your hips at the perfect angle, his tip snagging at just the right spot inside of you, whimpering beneath him. “s-seems like you liked it.”

steve adjusted himself at the sounds of your whimpers, nudging himself around until he finds that spot again, slowly thrusting himself into you. your grip on his hair tightened again, bottom lip quivering slightly as you take in the pleasure.

“i do, i do,” he reassured, finally finding his rhythm again, moans slipping from your lips. “just not when i’m t-trying not to go too fast, or f-finish too fast- fuck, honey, feel so good f’me.”

your back arched just a little at the sound of him praising you, clenching down around him again, just like you did before that caused the praise he gave. steve’s eyes lit up at the realization. he had some dirt on you now, too, and man did it feel good to be even.

“wouldn’t m-mind if you went faster,” you spoke, eyes begging up at him, legs spreading wider. you were already sensitive from your last orgasm, but now that he knows you like being praised? and he’s looking at you like that? you were struggling to contain yourself. “wouldn’t mind if you went h-harder either.”

“yeah?” he questioned.

“yeah.”

steve gave you a long, gentle kiss on the lips, petting your hair down affectionately, before he sat up a little in his place. he uses his large hands to readjust your legs, helping you wrap them firmly around his waist, giving him more leverage to fuck into you properly.

with every thrust from then on, steve fucks you just a little faster, just a little harder, until he finds that sweet spot that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. you reach a hand out to desperately claw at him, finally find one of his hands to grab onto, holding hands with him just like before. this time, however, you tangled your fingers with his holding onto him tight. he’s gentle when he pins your hand down against the mattress, the complete opposite of how he was fucking into you right now.

you started to writhe underneath him, moans becoming more frequent, eye contact becoming harder to keep. you were close.

“look at me,” steve spoke out, chest heaving a little from exertion, choked noises of pleasure bleeding through. “honey, look at me. wanna see those pretty eyes when we cum.”

you let your eyes flutter open, forcing eye contact with him as you rapidly approach your orgasm, his praise feeding into your pleasure. he gives your hand a squeeze, a squeeze you’re quick to reciprocate. he looks just as close as you are - fucked out and needy. you kept your other hand planted in his hair, anchoring yourself down, keeping him close.

“gonna cum, stevie, gonna- ohgod,” you could barely get your words out by the time your second orgasm washes over you. your cunt convulses around steve’s large cock uncontrollably, gushing around him. you fought tooth and nail to not let your eyes close, and you were so glad that you didn’t. steve was quick to cum right after you, face scrunched up all cute, moans and whines almost on par with yours, white ropes of warm cum filling the condom. he had a hold on your hips and waist that would leave bruises as he took you two through your orgasm.

you two stayed there for a few minutes. no thrusts, no tiny hip movements, just taking in the feeling of your orgasms, heavy breathing filling the room. you two still maintained eye contact, even after it was all done. you were the first to break the silence.

“can you wear your scoops uniform next time?”

“oh shut up.”

the both of you burst into a fit of laughs, steve finally, slowly pulling out of your wrecked cunt. you were glad you had a trash can in the corner of your room - the only thing steve had to do was stumble over and discard his condom, grabbing ahold of his boxers and his shirt, offering up the shirt for you to wear. you happily obliged, tugging it on, before motioning to your panties after he slipped into his boxers. steve wanted to make a comment about how you ruined the pair, but spared you just tonight.

he was hoping there would be many other nights where he’d be granted to opportunity to do that.

[steddiehyperfixation]

silly little thing for my @steddiebingo prompt: nerds | 758 words | G/T |

"Hey, maybe he can help," Robin says, sweeping a hand towards Dustin who's just walked into Family Video for his regularly scheduled afterschool bug Steve and Robin time, interrupting their conversation.

"Oh come on." Steve shakes his head. "The kid doesn't want to hear about my trash heap of a love life."

"Oh, no, I absolutely want to hear about that." Dustin perks up at the opportunity to learn about Steve's trivial suffering.

"We're trying to figure out why Steve goes on a million dates but can't seem to find someone he actually likes," Robin fills Dustin in. "Tell him, Steve."

Steve groans, dragging his hands over his face before splaying them out sarcastically, as that's the only thing he can really do in protest right now. Dustin's looking at him expectantly, and Steve has no choice but to tell the kid all about Linda and Heidi and Brenda and Lucy and whoever else he's been out with recently, doing his best to answer any subsequent questions as PG as possible.

"Well of course you haven't found the one yet, you keep trying to date a bunch of normal, basic, girly girls. That's not your type," Dustin informs him once Steve's done talking.

Steve raises his eyebrows. "Oh, it isn't?"

"You can't really be that stupid, can you?"

"No, please, Henderson, enlighten me on what you think my type is."

"You're into nerds," he says like it's completely obvious.

Steve scoffs. "I am not into nerds. You know, just because I hang around you little weirdos all the time does not actually mean I want to hang around even more weirdos in all the other aspects of my life too."

"Seriously, Steve, think about it," Dustin argues. "Think of all the girls you've actually been really genuinely into in your life. They've all been nerds! Nancy-"

"- is not a nerd."

"She's a straight-A student and a journalism super geek. She's a nerd."

Steve rolls his eyes and sighs grudgingly. "Alright, fine, but-"

"And you were into Robin-"

Robin wrinkles her nose. "Ugh, don't remind me."

"-who you can't deny is definitely a nerd," Dustin continues.

"You know what, actually, he does have a point," Robin says.

Steve looks at her in betrayal. "Don't encourage him!"

"That girl you told me about that you liked in middle school who was super into Star Trek, and the other one who wanted to write a fantasy novel one day- oh and the elementary school crush who was always reading a new book every day..." Robin lists, ticking each one off on her fingers.

"I told you all that in confidence!"

"They were all nerds!"

"Exactly." Dustin grins, vindicated and insufferably smug. "Ergo, you, Steve Harrington, need to find yourself a nerd."

"I am not into nerds!" Steve protests hopelessly.

"What more proof do you need?" Dustin says. "You're into nerds."

"Totally into nerds," Robin concurs.

Steve huffs and throws up his hands. "Fine! I'll admit I'm into nerds if it will make you two shut up about it!"

Eddie happens to wander into the previously empty store at that exact moment, catching the tail end of the conversation as he approaches the counter. "What's all this about nerds?"

Steve freezes, glances Eddie over and stares at him strangely for a few long seconds. "Holy shit," he mutters.

His gaze cuts to Robin, whose eyes go wide when she meets his look. "Holy shit," she agrees.

"Oh my god."

"Oh my god."

"Dude."

"Dude!"

Eddie blinks at them. "Are you two having some sort of joint stroke or something?" He looks at Dustin as if the kid might have a better clue of what's going on. "Can you understand them?"

Dustin shrugs, equally mystified. "Don't look at me, man. They're weird."

The incomprehensible parroting conversation is still going on.

"Okay," Steve's saying, taking a deep breath in through his nose and exhaling determinedly.

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"Okay." Robin grins and shoves at his shoulder.

Steve finally turns back around and leans on the counter in front of Eddie with a classically charming smile. "So, Eddie, are you free on Saturday?"

Eddie smiles back despite his confusion. "Yeah-"

"Oh my god!" Dustin bursts out suddenly.

"Oh my god," Robin agrees with a knowing smirk.

Eddie glances at Dustin. "Oh no, not you too."

Steve exhales a long-suffering sigh and pushes himself off the counter, marching around to grab Eddie by the hand and drag him away from Dustin and Robin. "So. Saturday?"

"He's into nerds," Dustin whispers, wide-eyed.

Robin nods sagely. "He's into nerds."

[ms-spkhd]

Part one

Admittedly, Eddie feels really fucking stupid about it in retrospect. Jeff tells him, in that soft and placating way he tells him anything, that he should stop worrying about his hindsight bias. Yeah, right. Hindsight bias doesn't apply for Steve Harrington dangling himself in front of Eddie's face like the metaphorical carrot on a stick.

It feels like a kick in the head, if anything. One that rattles his brain against his skull like the ricochet of a bullet. Or a maraca with a single, tiny bead in it, if he wants to be more technical about it.

But that's beside the point. What's important is that Steve Harrington is, like, into Eddie--which definitely throws all of his preconceived notions about boy wonder with serial monogamy problems of the heterosexual variety out of the fucking window and past the goalpost--and Eddie's been farting around for the past few months twiddling his fucking thumbs about it.

Well, it's not definitive.

The more that Eddie ruminates on it--and he spends several nights ruminating on it--Jeff's theory that Steve might be tipping the Kinsey scale sounds like...well. A theory.

It's the doubt that comes rearing its head that stops Eddie in his tracks from actually doing anything.

("Wow," Jeff grumbles as they hotbox in the back of Jeff's hand-me-down olive green Pinto a week after their stunning revelation, "trust Virgin Supreme to self-sabotage when someone is begging for you to climb on his lap and--"

"I told you that in confidence," Eddie spits as he digs through the glove compartment for a cassette to replace the oft-abused Kill 'Em All tape that's been blaring on repeat for the past two hours. "You're really mean when you're high, you know that, right?"

Jeff shrugs and takes a hit of the blunt they've been sharing. "I'm releasing my inhibitions. You can't silence me.")

Eddie trusts Steve. Of course he'd lay down his life for the man that dragged him out of hell without a single look behind like a preppy fucking Orpheus. But there's always the lingering thought that, despite everything they've gone through together, Eddie loving Steve would be the tipping point that ruins everything.

He finds himself balancing the line of keeping it in, too scared of the risk his heart will pose on their friendship, and fully committing to the pipe dream of Steve Harrington possibly wanting him back.

And, in Jeff's wise words, Biblically.

"Hey, Bird," Eddie asks Robin one night at the drive-in theater when Steve's out buying their snacks--medium popcorn loaded with cheddar powder and butter for Eddie, since he just popped a Lactaid ten minutes beforehand, and Milk Duds for Robin--"What would you do, hypothetically, if you think someone is really into you--"

"Here we go," Robin sighs, leaning back in the passenger seat. Eddie can't help but feel miffed at her dismissive attitude, but he knows for a fact that she's all ears.

"--And you, hypothetically, really like them back, but you don't know for sure if they actually, hypothetically, want you, or if it's just wishful thinking on your part?"

"Any you mean this totally hypothetically?" Robin says as she turns to face the rear seats where he's sitting and chewing at his cuticles.

"Yeah. This is a theoretical situation that I want your input in. Think of it like a...thought experiment."

Robin nods with narrowed eyes, like she sees through the bullshit with an all-seeing eye. "Right. Thought experiment. Is this hypothetical person a queer or not?"

"It never crossed your mind," Eddie confirms. "She looks like the posterchild of suburban heterosexuality, but she's gotten very invested in your very gay sex life out of the blue recently."

"So which one of you is the man invested or tell me about what eating out is like invested?"

"Tell me what eating out is like invested."

Robin hums in thought, tapping her index finger against her chin like the situation is really vexing her. "That sounds pretty gay, Eddie."

She is right, that does sound pretty gay. But it doesn't help him in his predicament at all, since Steve seemed to back off about the 'so do you play rock paper scissors to find out who gets it?' questions after Eddie frustratedly admitted that 'DnD club president and metalhead virgin at almost twenty' wasn't exactly a hot item in Indianapolis, much less Hawkins.

"Okay, new layer," Eddie says, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "What if, say, instead of asking you out--which you think is her next move--she starts trying to set you up with a bunch of girls you don't know."

There's muffled chatter from outside the Beemer's windows. Cars rev in the distance as they pull into the lot. Eddie watches Robin in contemplative silence as she thinks through her answer.

"That is difficult," she concedes, and Eddie is feeling more desperate than ever. "Can't imagine that ever happening to me."

Eddie mumbles, "Thank God it's a hypothetical."

"But if you think about it, it's either some misguided attempt to put me out there, or it's a Hail Mary to get me to realize I like her."

"Okay, well. Both options seem pretty hard to differentiate when you don't know what the fucking context behind the action is."

"For what it's worth," Robin says, her expression softening ever-so-slightly, "I think it's the Hail Mary. It's not my place to tell, but you should really give up the idea that it's wishful thinking and give it a shot."

Eddie's a millisecond away from asking, is it that obvious? before there's a sharp knock against his window. He yelps, head whipping around to find Steve with that sly grin slapped on his stupid, handsome face.

Eddie rolls down the window and tries to school his expression. He doesn't need to, really, because Steve shoves the popcorn into his hands and declares, "A medium sized popcorn with cheddar powder and lots of fucking butter for you, my friend. Bone of a teeth."

"Just fucking say it regularly," Robin groans as he yanks open the drivers seat door and tosses her a box of Milk Duds. "I know you can, you jackass!"

Steve laughs, full and hearty, as he turns to look at Eddie in the rear seats. He's like bottled-up sunshine contained into the shape of an American heartthrob. He's like Venus as a boy.

Eddie feels like he's staring down the barrel of a gun.

Another week of ruminating goes by, this time with Robin's words echoing in his head like a reverb pedal, and Eddie keeps that yellow pick near his heart the entire time. It's a real push and pull type situation, he realizes. His heart goes one way, his brain goes the other, which is fucking typical.

He doesn't talk to Jeff about it, because he knows he'll get the same answer, and he doesn't dare talk to Robin about it again. He feels she knows too much, and he has know idea how much she's accidentally telepathically transferred to Steve.

Eddie is about halfway through debating shaving his hair off as a way of regaining control when he finds Steve standing on his doorstep like a fucking Mormon.

"Eddie, man," Steve says with zero preamble, "my cousin's boyfriend has a roommate that I think you'd like."

"Nice weather we're having," Eddie responds blankly. Frankly, with the way things are going, he's getting sick of it.

But he can't help the way that Steve still looks beautiful as his eyebrows bunch together and pretty pink lips pinch into a thin line.

"Come on, man. I think this'll be a good start for you. I think he's into the same bands as you. I think Kathy said he was a Skid Row roadie, or something like that."

"I'm not that big of a Hair Metal guy," Eddie admits, and Steve deflates a bit.

"Well, if it helps, he kind of looks like me.' Jesus Christ. "Devastatingly handsome and all."

Eddie's damn near about to snap like a worn-out Stretch Armstrong being mauled by two pitbulls. He feels like he's about to blow a fucking gasket in front of the guy he's been holding very ill-advised affection towards since his sophomore year of high school. The very same guy who's been trying to set Eddie up with literally everyone with a functioning penis with exception of himself, the only guy Eddie has wanted. Ever.

There's no way Steve is that dense, right?

Eddie knows that the guy's smart, despite everyone telling him otherwise. Steve can definitely do mental math better than Eddie can dream of doing--since Frankie Gershwin passed down the sacred Hellfire DM calculator once Eddie took over Hellfire after he graduated--and he actually graduated on time, unlike yours truly.

But Eddie doesn't fucking get it.

"Steve," Eddie blurts, rather unceremoniously, "what are you doing?"

Steve blinks. His smile wanes dangerously low. "...I'm setting you up with a handsome dude."

"I don't understand why you're doing this though. Are you fucking with me, or something?"

"No, dude, I just..." Steve's expression shifts. His shoulders sag and he rakes a hand through his hair. He looks devastatingly earnest. "I just want to see you happy."

"If you want me to be happy," Eddie snaps, "then just ask me out yourself, since I've fucking been in love with you since April."

Steve freezes, hazelnut eyes like full moons on dinnerplates.

Eddie's hand flexes on the doorknob as he resists the white-hot urge to slam the door shut on Steve's shocked face. Maybe he should take a vacation down south to Mexico. Perhaps change his name and never come back. Hopefully there'll be sweet and earnest boys with olive skin and luscious hair waiting for him on the beaches of Cancun. Holy shit this is a fucking disaster.

"Oh," Steve says.

"Yeah, oh."

"You love me?" Steve asks, eyes sparkling like the rural sky. He draws closer to Eddie, raising a hand that begs to touch him.

"When have I not?" Eddie admits as leans into Steve's touch against his shoulder and laces their fingers together.

I guess I was, uh. I wasn't expecting it." Steve smiles softly and gazes at their intertwined hands.

"Do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Love me too?"

"Oh God." It's like Eddie's staring straight into the sun, with the ways Steve's smile grows more intense with each second. He wants to have it burned into his retinas. "Of course I do. It feels so stupid how much I'm obsessed with you."

"You know, you have a weird way of putting it, what with all the setting me up with guys I don't know," Eddie chirps. Steve chuffs and shakes his head like a guilty dog.

"I guess I wasn't expecting you to want me back. I wasn't sure you'd go for guys like me."

For jocks hangs heavy and silent in the air between them, as if Steve hasn't quite jumped over that hurtle of guilt over the person he was in high school. Sure, he was king of the letter crowd, but he's nothing like the douchebag from '83. Steve would never shove him into a locker or be a general chest-beating moron around Eddie, because he's not a moron. He's sweet and dorky and a little misguided, sometimes, but he has the heart of the size of a mack truck and a kindness to show it.

The thought of Steve talking Eddie's ear off about Sportsketball and the works sends an excited little shiver down his spine.

"I would," Eddie says, completely and utterly honestly. "God, I would for you."

He brings Steve's hand to his lips and smacks a wet kiss over the soft skin. "And the necklace..."

"That was my Hail Mary," Steve admits with a bashful shrug of his shoulders.

"I haven't taken it off since you've given it to me."

Steve releases his grip from Eddie's spindly hand and brushes his fingertips against Eddie's collarbone, tugging at the chain of the necklace until it untucks itself from underneath Eddie's shirt. Eddie watches the way that Steve lights up like a fucking electrical surge at the hint of sunshine yellow against his pale skin. It makes Eddie flush a bright red.

And when Steve's palm flattens against Eddie's chest and pushes him inside Eddie's new government loaned trailer, he lets himself be pushed against the wall and kissed.

And kissed, and kissed, and kissed.

Sufficed to say, when Eddie wakes up the next morning with Steve drooling against the back of his neck and his warm hand splayed against the skin of his naked chest, Eddie vows to always take Jeff's word for it.

____________

holy shit i was not expecting for part one to get that much fanfare. to be honest, i was totally intending for it to be a one and done to explore eddie and jeff's friendship, and believe me, my heart is so warmed by the reception it got. i recently have gotten myself out of a months long slump and have been swamped with college work, so i apologize for my writing being so few and far between. thank you all and i hope this is the resolution you were waiting so patiently for! :)

@grtwdsmwhr @eyehartart @bananahoneycomb @notasmoothman @colidamae

[wow-thisismylifeiguess]

Cryptid Bruce

Martha and Thomas Wayne struggled to have a child for years and Thomas meets a shady man who tells him that a child will come to them soon

Thomas just ‘??? okaaaaaay’s him but in a week, Martha bursts into his office looking frazzled

“We’re being haunted.”

“….”

“Don’t give me that look, Thomas Wayne. The Manor. It’s haunted. Alfred! Tell him we’re being haunted!”

And Alfred comes in, also looking frazzled but to a lesser degree.

The two explain that things are moving around the Manor without any kind of explanation, but Thomas doesn’t believe them. Until he notices things in his office also being moved. The weirdest event is when they start hearing a child’s giggles. No explanation. None.

Not until Thomas, sleep deprived after going over paperwork for one too many hours, pops into the kitchen and…there is a child. Sitting on the kitchen counter.

The child, a boy, turns. Grins. Waves.

“Hi, daddy.”

—

Bruce, they name him, can melt into shadows. He finds it hilarious. Martha thinks she’s going to go grey at her young age. She adores him. Thomas adores him. He’s their son now.

The Waynes have a mysterious child, but they keep their private lives very private, so maybe they just successfully hid a pregnancy? And then a child. For…three years. They think Bruce is three, at least.

Despite how odd of a child Bruce is, they love him dearly. He’s some kind of miracle. A…very weird, possibly magical(?) miracle.

—

Dick thinks his adoptive father is strange. Extremely strange. Bruce makes absolutely no noise when he moves. He doesn’t cast shadows but he seemingly is able to *blend into them*. His smile, whilst genuine, seems a little too sharp.

He thinks he’s a vampire.

Bruce laughs so hard, he doubles over.

“No, but I am the Batman, so I guess you’re not far off.”

“…is this a joke?”

“Nope.”

“A dream?”

Bruce pinches him and Dick yelps.

Bruce doesn’t explain to Dick what he is, because he doesn’t have a clue himself. He just…is.

—

But when Jason comes along, he has a million and one questions. Bruce blinks at him.

“How did you do that? You literally *melted* into the shadows!”

Bruce shrugs.

“No. *No*. Explain.”

“I…can’t.”

“You said no secrets, B!”

Bruce puts his hands up defensively. “It’s not a secret! I really don’t know! It just…kind of happens.”

Jason stares at him. Bruce stands there. He seems to flicker? The edges of his body go a bit transparent and Dick knows he only does that when he’s stressed.

“Leave him alone, Jay. He’s telling the truth. He’s just…like that. But he’s still Bruce.”

It takes Jason two months to accept it. By then, his questions are more from genuine intrigue and wonder. He hides under Batman’s cape and somehow it’s spacious? It can even fit Dick at the same time. No one (but Bruce) can even hear them when they’re under there.

And then one day, when he goes to take a nap under Bruce’s cape, someone else is there.

“….B?”

“…”

“You know what I’m going to ask.”

“…”

“*Bruce*.”

“No real names, Robin.”

“No one can hear me!”

“…I didn’t kidnap him.”

“What his name?”

“Timothy Drake.”

“FROM DRAKE INDUSTRIES?”

And Tim wakes up, rubbing his eyes. He looks exhausted and way too skinny, and all of a sudden, Jason understands why Dick has cooed at him the first night Bruce brought him home.

“Um…hi.”

“B, we’re keeping him.”

Jason doesn’t need to see Bruce’s face to know he’s smiling.

—

Damian just…appears. Bruce suddenly understands his parents’ reactions to his first appearance because nearly the same exact thing happens. Bruce wakes up from a nap. He doesn’t need to sleep very often, something Tim finds incredibly annoying, declaring it to be *unfair*. He wakes up, and curled against his chest is…a boy. Who looks a *lot* like him.

“Uh.”

The child wakes up, blinks at him w striking green eyes.

“Hello Father.”

What the fuck.

Dick slams his way into Bruce’s office, followed by Jason and Tim, who are bickering with each other.

“DAAAAAAAD, THEY WON’T SHU- oh. Steal another kid?”

“…he just appeared.”

“That’s the excuse you used for Jason.”

“No. Literally. I fell asleep. No kid. Woke up. Kid.”

“My name is Damian.”

“That’s no fair. You came pre-named?”

Damian is as odd as Bruce. Actually, he’s weirder. And stabby. Bruce finds him *delightful*. He adores him.

—

Dick is Nightwing, Jason is Red Hood (no death, he just thought it was a cool name), Tim is Red Robin, and Damian’s Robin.

Bruce is Batman. Despite being in his late 30s, he still looks like he’s in his mid 20s.

—

Batman stands in front of a bank robber who’s going on about their evil bank robbing plans. Nightwing pops his head out from beneath Batman’s cape.

“Can you get to the point?”

Red Hood pops out next.

“I’m getting bored.”

Red Robin follows.

“This is sad.”

Damian.

“Scum.”

Batman sighs.

“Why are all of you here?”

“Missed you.”

They all chime in.

The robber.

“How…how the *fuck-?*”

“Language. There are kids around.”

“B, I’m 23.”

“Says the boy taking a nap in my cape. And I was talking about Red Robin and Robin.”

“…’s comfy.”

“I’m eighteen???”

“F- Batman! I am not a child!”

There’s some shuffling sounds, no doubt Red Hood moving over to ruffle Robin’s hair.

“Whatever you say, Tiny Demon.”

And then Red Hood shrieks.

“No stabbing your brothers, Robin.”

“He called me small!”

“…you are.”

“This is insulting, F- Batman. I will grow to be as big as you. No. *Bigger*.”

The robber watches in confusion, mild amusement, and horror.

Batman sighs.

“We’ll talk about this later. Now, you were saying? Blowing up the bank, terrorizing the people.” Batman yawns. “Anything else?”

“Just take me to Arkham. I think I’m insane.”

[redflagshipwriter]

SNITCHES THE CAT SEQUEL pt1 and masterpost

Part Two/Part Three/ Part Four/ Part Five/ Part Six/ Part Seven/ Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven

Part One

“This you?”

Danny pushed the newspaper down without looking at it, revealing Sam’s shitty grin. “That lost cat is not me, no.” He rolled his eyes. They had been showing him lost pet ads ever since he got back from Gotham. “Isn’t that joke getting old, guys?” He kicked his way further into a slouch in the booth as Tucker came back with refilled drinks.

Tucker laughed, and then there was a silence. “Danny? Are you sure this isn’t you, man?” He sounded uncertain.

He felt his jaw twitch and he had to tell his friend off. “Is it that funny that there’s a sad kid out there? Honestly, guys-” Danny opened his eyes fully to roll them and then saw the lost pet ad being brandished in his face. He blinked at it. His brain did a full reboot and he reached out to take the paper. 

It looked like him, sleeping on the cushion in the batcave. Had they gotten that photo from the security footage? “It’s me.” His voice came out way too high.

Danny pulled the paper over in disbelief and realized that it was a two page ad. “Oh wow,” he said faintly. There he was, leaping across the kitchen. And there, that must have been taken by Damian when he fell asleep on the bed. There was a cat toy partially in the frame.

Sam’s snorting laughter cut off. “Uh.” She kicked him lightly under the table. “Is.. Is that little kid going to be okay?” She asked in a small voice. She sounded like she felt bad for poking fun. 

Danny felt guilty. He stared at the evidence that Robin was missing his cat terribly and felt like the biggest jackass possible. “Should I go back?” he wondered. He squirmed, pulling a foot up onto the bench to perch on. “I mean… How long does a cat live? A few years?”

“Try about twenty,” Tucker said flatly. “I feel bad too, man, but you can’t defer admission that long.”

“Though Snitches was clearly not a little kitten, so you could really just give it a couple years,” Sam mused. Both boys stared at her. She blinked. “Not that I’m suggesting you do that!” She waved her hands at them. “The longer you stay with him, the harder he’s going to take it when his pet ‘dies’,” she said with finger quotes. “You did the right thing by leaving as soon as you could.”

“Maybe we could answer it, do a photoshoot, tell him that Danny was your cat or something and he’s come home,” Tucker mused. “He’d be sad that he couldn’t have the cat, but surely it would be better than worrying the cat died, right?”

“What are you losers talking about?” Star said, giving their booth a wide berth. “You’re not hurting cats now, are you, weirdos?” She eyed them like they were gross. “It would figure.”

“Fuck off,” Sam said pleasantly. All three of them gave Star a rude gesture in unison, just like they had practiced. “That shit’s uncalled for.”

Star sniffled and turned away on her heel, cheer skirt flouncing behind her. A few moments later she clearly reached her table because the sounds of popular kid conversation got a lot louder.

“She should be a reporter,” Sam said darkly. “I would love for her to get sued for slander.” She snapped open her clutch and began applying even more black eyeliner, as if that would differentiate her from the other girls in the restaurant.

Tucker groaned and pulled his hat down over his eyes in despair. “That’s gonna be a bad rumor,” he complained. 

Danny couldn’t find it in him to care as much as he usually would. He was still stuck on the fact that Damian had put an ad in the Illinois Times. “Do you think he realized that Snitches got on a highway bus to Illinois?” he hissed, now aware that other people might be listening in. “How would he know that?”

Sam frowned. Tucker lifted his head and pulled out his phone to search. “That’s a good question,” he said to himself. He hit buttons rapidly. “Uh, same ad is in…” He trailed off. “Hold up, hold up, lemme search this backwards…” Whatever he saw had him raise his eyebrows high, look at Danny in disbelief, and then shake his head slightly. “You must be a really good cat. I'm kind of jealous.”

“What?” Danny hissed. “Just tell me.”

“Hey, hey, paws off.” Tucker moved his device further away. “Uh, this poor kid- well.” He paused. “Poor is the wrong word. He’s put ads in newspapers all the way up to Ontario and down to… Well, in Mexico at least.”

Danny and Sam stared at him in disbelief. “You’re fucking with us,” Sam said after a long moment.

Tucker silently shook his head. “There’s a nationwide Greg’s list ad,” he said grimly. “20 dollars an hour to print and staple missing cat photos to telephone poles. And a private detective’s agency on the case, asking for witnesses to come forward.”

Danny put his head in his hands. “I have to go back,” he said, haunted by the responsibility. “I can’t let him be this sad.”

“Danny, no.” Tucker said. Sam nodded her agreement. 

“…Yeah, that’s crazy,” he said unconvincingly. He gave a fake laugh. “He’ll get over it.” Danny stared into his drink, watching bubbles. Robin was not going to get over it. That kid loved hard.

“I could use 20 dollars an hour,” Tucker said in a thoughtful tone.

“No,” Sam said flatly.

Tucker shrugged, smiling slightly. “I wonder how much I’d get for bringing you back.” He shrugged theatrically. “You could send me to college, man! Don’t you want me to go to college?”

“No…” Danny said weakly. “I… Is that fraud?” Still. Money would be nice.

“Guys, no.” Sam knocked them both in the head with the pile of napkins. “You can’t do that to this little kid. He’s clearly not well.”

“Exactly,” Tucker argued passionately. “Imagine how happy he would be to get his cat back! We could reunite him with his pet!”

It was tempting. He felt, like, so bad about how sad Robin was. The little guy had been so proud of his pet. Danny could spare a few years to make a little kid happy, right? It was kind of greedy otherwise.

Danny stared at the bubbles in his drink again, really thinking it over. “I think I would have to fight crime with him,” he said dully. “That’s a minus.”

“Danny?” Sam rapped the table with her fingers. He looked up to see her pointed eyebrow raise. “What are you talking about?”

He hunched his shoulders up. “Nothing, nothing,” he lied hastily. He forgot they didn’t know. He couldn’t dox someone’s crime fighting identity, though, it would be really unfair. 

“You could buy me a house,” Tucker wheedled. Sam hit him.

[arachnidseyesmoved]

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

CALLS AND CONNECTIONS

Damian Wayne x Constantine! Reader

A/N: Previous. Next. Fem reader. Just a short little half chapter because I wanted them to talk a little more before the next chapter 👀. wc: 910

Your blaring ringtone wakes you up. The rather uncommon sound is loud and abrupt. Groaning, you pick your head up from where it's stuffed into your pillow and squint your blurry eyes at the contact name.

“Damian😾”

Before your sleep addled mind can even begin to comprehend how strange that is, you swipe to answer and mumble a confused,

“Damian?”

His voice comes from the other end, deadpan and static.

“Yes, Constantine. It’s me.”

You can see the eye roll so clearly when he says that.

“What's wrong?”

The most likely reason you can come up with for why The Son of Batman could possibly be calling you is that there might be an end of the world scenario happening.

“Nothing’s wrong— Did you just wake up?”

You sniff, look around the tussled sheets of the white hotel bed and simply answer,

“Yeah?”

“Where are you?”

“London.”

“It’s currently 12pm in London.”

“…Yeah?”

He scoffs and mumbles some Arabic words that sound vaguely like insults.

“Well, clearly you’re not busy but If you want me to hang up I will.”

He hears sheets shuffling and a huff come from his earpiece as you clamber into a more comfortable position.

“Wait, so why are you calling?”

He hates the scratchy tiredness of your voice, he hates that he now knows what you sound like after just waking up. He hates how stupidly intimate it feels.

He sighs to himself as he lands on another roof.

“I just wanted to… talk.”

You stare at the ceiling, convinced you’re not actually understanding what he means.

“Talk?”

He clicks his tongue harshly,

“Yes, Constantine. I believe it's called ‘catching up’.”

Huh. A moment of disbelief comes and goes, you speak into the phone.

“Ok, well… How’s it going?”

You can't help but chuckle when you ask that. This entire situation is rather chuckle-worthy.

“I'm currently on patrol. It's been rather quiet.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Unlikely, It might just mean that crime’s gotten smarter or I've gotten sloppy.”

“Right, because that's likely.”

There's a pause over the line. It's clear neither of you are used to phone calls that aren't about end of the world scenarios. After listening to the sound of his breaths as he leaps from rooftop to rooftop, you finally build up enough courage in you.

“I asked Zatanna if I could join her tour….as another act.”

He almost slips on the ledge he just jumped to. The night he patched you up was only a week ago, he was very much not expecting you to take his advice to heart.

“What did she say?”

“Well, she definitely wasn't expecting it, and I can tell she's a little… nervous but she said I could do something small to start, like an intermission between the real acts.”

He hums, stopping to pet a stray cat he passes.

“Is she making you pull rabbits out of hats and calling that an act?”

“Yes, actually. Remember when I explained demonic animal persuasion to you?”

He hums in confirmation. Of course he does, he remembers everything, especially really cool demon animal magic.

“Yeah so, obviously demons who can look like animals are much better as an act than actual animals, Since people just can’t go without animal acts, apparently.”

You both share sounds of disgust.

Another moment of silence passes, no sounds except your sheet shuffling and Robin’s breaths as he patrols the rooftops over Gotham. He breaks the silence this time.

“How long is the tour?”

“Uh, well we start in Europe and-”

“Hold on.”

He interrupts and you hear grunts, thumps, shouts and clangs from your phone speaker. You patiently wait for him to be done rounding up whatever goons he's just found, gazing at the curtain covered windows of your hotel room. You grumble at the lack of sunlight coming through the white fabric. London weather, no wonder you slept past noon.

“Continue.”

“Right so… I asked Zatanna if we'll be going to Gotham—”

He pauses while confiscating the last unconscious man's gun. Why would you ask that?

“—and she said yes, in a few months time. I mean, I guess it doesn't really matter cus you could go to any city in the world if you wanted to but y’know.”

“Are you asking me to come see you perform?”

“….Yes.”

He grips his katana tighter, suppressing a smile even though no one would see it.

“I’ll be there.”

“…Cool.”

Damian briefly thanks his blessings that you're too sleepy to come up with another stupid joke about fishnets or something.

Feeling like you’re hogging the conversation a little, you ask him about what cases he’s working on currently, how his doctor program is going, if he has any juicy batfamily drama to share.

He seems happy to do most of the talking, to your surprise. It actually might be the most you’ve ever heard him talk. You find yourself drifting off to the sound of his voice telling you about Duke’s latest romantic blunder.

He tries not to notice how your little uh-huh’s and mhm’s get quieter and less frequent. He clicks his tongue when he hears your soft sleeping breaths, even though he isn't sure if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. Did he put you to sleep because he was boring or calming? Why the hell does he even care?

He clicks his tongue again but at himself this time.

He especially hates how long he stays on the line listening to your breaths.

─⋅⋆⁺𖤐

[casscainmainly]

Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

[deadsetobsessions]

Danny’s Wayne adoption bait. The guy that owns the bodega knows it. Everyone and their mothers knows it. Danny, on the other hand, had no clue. To be fair, he had just crash landed in this dimension a week ago and his back was still sore from the weird design the car had.

(It’s only three weeks of homelessness later does Danny realize that he crash landed on the Batmobile. Whoops. Oh well. He’ll blame it on Clockwork if the vigilante asks after repair costs.)

(Bruce, on the other hand, is scouring the streets for this kid the car cams caught- oddly static filled footage- because his mind jumped to the worst case scenarios: a suicidal meta or a meta being threatened or a meta in a trafficking scheme or even worse all three at once and Bruce just can’t because there is a child in danger, he doesn’t have time to sleep.)

Danny rubbed at his back, eyes going watery at the memory. Sure, his wounds have healed over by now but the- heh- phantom pain is no joke. He shuddered, huddling closer to his threadbare hoodie. His only saving grace from getting jumped while walking the streets of Gotham at night is his invisibility and intangibility. Also, he’s floating, so “walking” doesn’t apply to him.

He’s gotta check on the kid he saved yesterday from a mugging, so Danny hurried along to the depilated apartment complex the kid was squatting in. Turning visible and tangible as he turns the corner, Danny glanced around for Amy.

“Danny!”

“Hey, kiddo. Doing alright?”

“Yeah! Come meet my gang!”

Danny felt his eyebrows rise to form Jazz’s exasperated look. Ouch. Waving the pain of losing Jazz away, Danny smiled at the excited girl.

“A gang? I wasn’t aware I was being brought to your almighty group.”

“Yeah! Uh, you actually helped a bunch of us so…”

Danny thought back to all those times he punted crooks away from robbing kids and shrugged. Yeah, what Amy said was likely.

“Kay, kiddo.”

She scowled, and Danny didn’t have the heart to tell her it looked more like a pout.

“You’re just a teenager.”

“Well, you’re a just a kid.”

Danny cackled as she chased him down the street, trying to kick his shins.

Life is good, even if he’s homeless and hungry.

——

“Jason.”

“Old man.” Jason mocks back, pausing his tasks. He waits as Bruce struggles to put his thoughts and feelings into words.

“There’s… a meta.”

“In Gotham?” Jason tilts back, hands halfway to his guns as a silent offer. Bruce shakes his head.

“A child. In Crime Alley.”

“In my turf?” Jason’s disquieting demeanor quickly swapped to a protective one.

“Trafficking, I think. Male, black hair…”

“Shit. Get Dickwing back here, he’s good with traumatized kids. I’ll go look for him.” Jason’s already moving, mind filtering through the kids he knows might have information to offer.

Bruce nods, shoulders relaxing. Jason smacks down the lump in his throat at the subtle sing of trust. “I’ll get Oracle and Red Robin on it.”

Jason morphs from Jay to Red Hood in one smooth step, helmet firmly placed on his head. He grunts in agreement, slinging his legs over his motorcycle. He roars off, mind half filled with tearing apart whatever traffickers dared to shit near his territory and the other half filled with worry for this possible kid.

——

Danny, as the Bats become aware of his existence, hands Amy and her kiddie gang a bag of fancy beef jerky.

“Try these with peanut butter, it’s kind of good.”

Amy stares at him, the judgement of an eight year old more piercing than anything he’s ever experienced.

“You’re fucking weird-”

“Language!” He squawks.

“-but sure, whatever you say, boss.”

“Boss?!”

The kids ignores his alarmed face.

[timmydraker]

Everyone in the Bat Clan has been noticing something over the years, specially about Tim.

Every so often he will go to do something with his hands or even his entire body, such as swaying or shaking his hands, but always stops himself.

There’s almost this look of annoyance on his face that just barely hides discomfort, but he brushes it off quickly.

Bruce noticed and, thinking about Robin more than anything, offered some kind of fidgeting device to help him stay on task, only for Tim to snap at him for the first time. It was his usual snark or commenting on Bruce’s well being, but a real moment of lashing out.

He decided then not to bother Tim about his clear want to move around it play with something even if it’s just his hands, mainly because he was doing his job well.

Yet, as he starts to really try and be a good parent to his kids and realises that Tim is one of the places he messed up most by basically using him to cope with grief, he decides to ask the rest of the family what they think.

Dick says it could be ADHD and he needs movements, with Barbara backing it up with a few websites in agreement.

Damian says he should mediate and Cass so what agrees but says it probably won’t help someone like Tim that much.

Duke and Steph make up a somewhat chaotic plan of coercing him into telling them what he needs, out of love and somewhat aggressive care.

It’s Jason who just scoffs and says, “It’s stimming, you idiots. He has like, super messed up standards cause of his parents, right? They probably didn’t allow it but he’s got that like, autastic thing.”

Only Jason Todd could say something so smart followed by completely idiocy.

But he is right, very much so. It might also explain why sometimes he seemingly couldn’t handle touch but when he panicked he need to be squeezed as tightly as possible.

Naturally, with a family of emotionally repressed vigilantes, they decide to subtly let him know it’s okay.

Dick is the worst with it, speaking far too loudly about how Autism is okay and how he wants to learn to support autistic kids, while Bruce thinks nodding along to this helps.

Damian just stares at Tim for five minutes before bailing and running away.

When a month passes and Tim seem more like he’s even more ashamed than anything my, Cass smashes her hand on the table at dinner and drags him out of the room to talk to him.

Tim is forced to sit and listen to his sister, who may or may not be his favourite sibling, talk about how he’s not damaged or wrong for needing to stim and move his body. She calls him out on how he is being a hypocrite, for accepting people like Bart and Barbara and and her for their disabilities whether ADHD or something physical but not himself.

Tim wouldn’t have been moved by this if it was anyone else, but never in all the time he’s known her has he heard Cass say so many words in one go nor can see her cry so much. She’s loud when she cries, making up for her silence, but it’s only something any of them have seen twice and that was Bruce and Steph.

He doesn’t just magically accept that he’s neurodivergent, nor does he ever want a title as to what is different about him, but the difference is still noticeable.

A week later him and Dick are watching an episode of their show and something Tim adores, a comic series, is referenced. Instead of what he usually does, that being sitting there as still as he can, he bats his hands around a for a few seconds before pausing and waiting for Dicks reaction.

When Dick beams at him brighter than a sun he continues, smacking the couch and even Dicks arm in his excitement.

A few days later he makes a high pitched noice just to get to an itch in his throat and doesn’t realise that Jason is there, yet when the other responds with the same noice, given a bit deeper, Tim smile. Bruce walks in on them making strange noises at each other in a sort of echo.

It’s months later when it’s his birthday and his family has come together to buy him a new, stupidly expensive camera only to reveal they also added a red light room in the manner for him to print them that they really see how much safer he feels.

He flaps his hands aggressively and jumps in place, rumbling out words that don’t all much and thanking them over and over.

He squeals happily but only has a moment where he looks shamed before Bruce holds out a flat palm for him to smack excitedly.

Later, when he gets overwhelmed and crashes a little, Duke lies on top of him to give him pressure only for Steph to sit on him.

[brucedefender4eva]

As much as I love when fanfics give a character who has been traumatized in their media (but their writers don’t ever show them affected by the horrors) having realistic reactions to what happened to them (anxiety attacks, PTSD, trust issues, etc)

Their family helps them through their problems and the issues that they’ve gained from it. Showing them that it’s okay to be vulnerable and they’ll always be there for them

I also equally love the opposite. Instead of a character being affected by the horrors, they’re just… completely fine

Everyone else around them is freaking out and expecting a meltdown of some kind, completely ready to support them in any way possible, but it never comes

It’s just another fucking day. No panic attacks, no flash backs, nada. Family thinks that they’re hiding it from them when in reality the person affected is confused on why everyone is hovering around them

The batfam is waiting for the other shoes to drop with Bruce constantly. You’d think that after this man became a short term paraplegic from Bane breaking his back that Bruce would be wary about facing the man again

Maybe even refuse to do so?

They get an alert on the Batcomputer and Bane is causing havoc in the city. He’s pumped up on Venom and destroying everything in his way.

They’re glancing at each other like “Oh shit. What the fuck do we do? Do we wanna put Bruce through all that again?”

And Bruce is just… suiting up. Doesn’t fucking phase him in the slightest. He’s fought Bane a million times before and he’ll do it a million times again. He just really wants to punch someone with all his might, knowing they won’t die from it

His kids are exchanging nervous glances as Bruce maps out a plan and as they’re leaving Alfred hands them small med kits to keep with them

“Master Bruce, please be careful.” Alfred says through his coms as he’s jumping from building to building, his voice unusually tinged with worry. Alfred only ever comes on coms and tells him to be careful when the villain that he’s facing is of considerable risk to himself or his children

Bruce is fucking confused. Why would he need to be more careful than he already is? He’s Batman

“It’s just Bane, agent A.”

“B… he broke your back…” Oracle chimes in quietly

“Right, he did do that didn’t he? I forgot that happened.”

“?” The boys look at each other in confusion. Did their Dad really just say that

“You forgot?” Cass asked, her voice incredulous

“Not that big of a deal.” Bruce shrugged, glancing over in confusion as all of his kids stopped, instead turning to face him

“Dad… are you serious?” Tim asked, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline

“As I’ve stated, not a big deal.” Bruce doesn’t know why they seem to be making a huge deal out of this. It’s been years. It’s not like anyone brought it up

“Bruce, you don’t have to be strong in front of us.” Dick whispered softly, placing a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. Even with the mask Bruce could tell his eldest was looking at him with those deep soulful eyes he has whenever he’s trying to comfort someone.

“I’m not??” Bruce said, looking around to see his kids doubtful faces. “Seriously I’m not. It happened and I got over it.”

“You don’t just get over being paralyzed Bruce.” Barbra’s said soothingly, using the same voice she does when she tries to calm down terrified children.

“Seriously old man, we’ve all been through some shit. If you wanna sit this one out, we understand.” Jason said, in a rare moment of kindness toward Bruce.

Unfortunately, it was completely unneeded and just made Bruce even more annoyed.

“Oh I get it. This is a rouse. You all want to get out from patrol tonight.” Bruce said, figuring out what all the concern was about (he didn’t figure out shit). “If it wasn’t a school night I would’ve just brought Robin.” Bruce mumbled under his breath.

As Bruce grappled away to another building, still intent on hunting down Bane and taking him back to Arkham, all his kids could do was stare after him in disbelief.

“He seriously doesn’t care…” Steph chuckled softly, shaking her head in astonishment. “Bruce is so fucking weird.”

[loveinhawkins]

ao3

Robin’s double-triple-quadruple checking that Steve is okay—well, okay as he can be, gritting his teeth as Nancy wraps hastily made bandages around him—when she sees Eddie turn away out the corner of her eye.

She follows the movement unconsciously, but then she really looks, and at first she thinks it’s just this god-awful place draining the colour out of everything, but wow, he looks bad.

“Hey,” she says as brightly as she can, “you just checking out the scenery over here or…?”

Eddie shakes his head, and that immediately seems like a bad idea because his face gets even paler, which Robin didn’t even think was, like, possible.

“Just needed to—” he says faintly.

And that’s all he gets out before he weaves where he’s standing, and Robin reaches for him instinctively, grabs a hold of his hand; his palm is cold with sweat, and she suddenly finds herself thinking that the rumour going around a couple years ago, that Eddie passed out in the middle of a dissection in Biology, must have some truth in it.

“Okay, we’re okay!” she says quickly, and holds on as tight as she can. “We’re just gonna stand here and breathe.”

She says it a few more times, “We’re just gonna breathe,” and she’s got no idea if it’s the right thing to do or not, whether it’s just deeply annoying or making everything worse.

Eddie closes his eyes, and she worries about that initially, but the grip of his hand gets stronger, and he doesn’t sway again, and when he opens his eyes and looks at her, they’re clear and focused.

He squeezes her hand twice. “Thanks.”

He doesn’t let go, and he looks embarrassed about it, so Robin says that her sense of balance is so incredibly shit, and this is very helpful of him, thank you.

It works at least a little bit; he almost laughs. Then he swallows, and she can feel his urge to look back over despite himself. He stops the motion just in time.

“Is he—” His fingers twitch uneasily. “Is he okay?”

“Yes,” she says immediately.

She really hopes it doesn’t sound like she’s pacifying him. It’s just, she knows by now what to watch out for, she doesn’t even really need to be looking; an awareness of Steve in her periphery is enough.

She rushes to try and clarify, “Like, I know it seems like I was panicking with the rabies thing, I mean, I kinda was super panicking, but I got it all out my system, like I’m a worrier first and foremost, that’s my secret default emotion, you’re welcome, so when I say there’s nothing to worry about, obviously there are plenty of things to worry about, look where we are, but I promise nothing major currently in the Steve department, and I can tell you, like, instantly when that changes, it’s a sixth sense.”

Eddie blinks, looking slightly stunned. Shit, she forgets sometimes that it’s only really Steve who’s used to these monologues.

A big breath. “And I know it seems like I’m panicking because I’m rambling which—okay, that’s sometimes true, but in most cases—this one included, I swear!—me talking way too much just means I’m comfortable with whoever’s listening.” Eddie’s eyes widen. “So, um. Congratulations? Sorry? Take your pick. Does that, um, make sense?”

There’s a pause before Eddie replies—he’s probably still processing just how many words were thrown at him.

“I don’t think you talk too much,” he says in a taken aback kind of way. Then, “And yeah, sure, that makes sense. Just, uh, questioning your judgement.” A slight self-effacing smile. “I’m not typically the kinda guy folks are comfortable around.”

“Is it really so shocking?” Robin says, meaning it as a tease but—

“Yes,” Eddie says, and while he matches her tone, the word teeters between a joke and something vulnerable.

They both turn at a sudden grunt of exertion—Steve’s standing up, supporting himself with one hand leaning on the rock he’d fallen against. Nancy watches his movements with an anxious intensity; Robin follows her eyeline and notes with relief that the bleeding’s stopped.

“We can go to my house,” Nancy says like she’s trying to convince herself it’s a good idea. “There’ll—there must be some bandages or something just. Just in case.”

Steve lets go of the rock and stands up to his full height. It’s a deliberate show of reassurance, Robin thinks, as much for himself as it is for Nancy.

“Sure,” Steve says. “And guns too, right?”

Nancy’s startled into a laugh. For a second, the weight of concern leaves her face. “And guns,” she repeats.

Eddie catches Robin’s eye with an air of bewilderment. “Guns?” he mouths.

Robin nods.

Eddie looks, if possible, even more lost. Then his eyes slide away from Robin’s, and his expression changes; he starts to frown. At first Robin can’t tell what he’s noticed except that there can’t be any more blood, thank God, because he doesn’t look away. Then she sees it too as Steve takes a step forward with a nonchalant, “What are we waiting for? Let’s go,” like the determined normality of his voice can somehow hide the fact that he’s shivering.

Nancy bites her lip, looking like she’s come to the same unwelcome conclusion as Robin: that no matter what they say, it’ll just result in Steve arguing against it.

There’s a rustle off to the side. Robin glances over only in time to see a blur of denim; Steve catches it against his chest. Eddie’s vest.

“For your modesty, dude,” Eddie quips like it’s no big deal, but Robin can instantly sense the care he’s taken in how he’s said it, that he’s guessed intuitively about the kind of person Steve is: the kind who, when Robin once forgot her umbrella, shared his and made sure she was fully covered, despite him getting soaked in the process.

It’s like she can physically see the path that Eddie’s flippancy has opened up. This way Steve accepting the vest is just continuing the joke; he doesn’t need to admit that he actually needs it.

And it works. Steve expertly sidesteps around the vulnerability and shrugs on the vest, echoing Eddie’s levity right back at him.

“Oh, my modesty, sure. Well, in that case, don’t wanna offend you, dude.”

“You know me, propriety is my middle name.”

Steve laughs. He fiddles a little with one of the buttons on the vest then says lightly, as if an afterthought, “Didn’t know you cared.”

It still walks the line of a joke, but Robin can hear his sincerity, and from the look of surprise on Eddie’s face, so can he. And it’s not like Steve being genuine is a surprise to her, but—

The ground gives way beneath her feet; her stomach lurches as she loses her balance, and it’s only when she accidentally catches Eddie’s shoulder that she realises she’s not going to fall through an endless chasm, that the world is just shaking violently—still not a comforting prospect, but she’ll gladly take it over the alternative.

She barely has time to feel the relative relief before another shudder sends her straight to the ground; she’s too caught off guard to even protect her face with her hands. But her landing isn’t nearly as painful as it should be—as everything finally grows still, she finds the reason why: Eddie, who from the awkward twisted position of his legs looks like he was caught equally off guard, and yet he’s still managed to fling an arm around Robin, bracing to keep her from the worst of the impact.

“Did anyone touch the vines?” Nancy asks breathlessly.

Robin and Eddie shake their heads.

“Any, uh, particular reason why?” Eddie says in the tone of someone who’d really rather not find out.

“It’s a hive mind,” Steve and Nancy say simultaneously, in a very hive mind like way.

Robin hums the theme to The Twilight Zone; everyone laughs, some pressure finally released.

“So killer demon bats weren’t enough, we’ve gotta deal with booby traps too,” Eddie says.

Steve snorts. He glances childishly to Robin as if looking for approval; she rolls her eyes with an irrepressible smile. Seriously?

There’s a split second of disbelief before Eddie just grins in delight. “Real mature, Harrington.”

Steve shrugs. “Sorry, man,” he says, not sounding sorry at all. “Just providing what Dustin would’ve done.”

They sober slightly at the reminder that their group’s been split.

“You think they’ve figured out that we’re…?” Eddie wiggles his fingers vaguely. He’s slower at getting to his feet than everyone else had been—he’s still hunched over slightly, rubbing at his knee.

“They will,” Nancy says with conviction.

“Don’t underestimate them,” Steve says mildly.

“Oh, I’m not, believe me. They’re kinda terrifying.”

“Terrifying?” Nancy echoes, laughing again, right as Steve says, “Exactly.”

As if in response to their laughter, there’s a distant growl punctuated with ominous clicking. Steve and Nancy both go rigid, and Robin thinks of the night after Starcourt, when Steve stayed over at her place because neither of them wanted to be alone; and he told her how everything started for him, his voice tripping over the words like he was reliving it all over again: running back to Jonathan Byers’ house, hearing the snarl of a monster.

“Yeah, I’m all for going to the Wheeler sanctum,” Eddie says weakly.

But he doesn’t move initially, so Steve and Nancy end up leading the way. Steve repeatedly sweeps the beam of his flashlight back and forth, making sure that the path is lit up for everyone, and Robin wonders whether he’s so focused on that that he hasn’t yet noticed—

“You’re hurt,” she tells Eddie softly. She’s up and looped her arm through his without thinking—which is kind of a big deal considering she nearly threw up with nerves when dancing with a boy at her middle school Snow Ball—and she realises that, for once, she forgot to be nervous about it.

“It’s not that bad,” Eddie says dismissively, but she can feel him leaning on her so it must be at least a little bit bad. “Hey, we kinda even each other out like this, huh? Your balance is pretty good, actually.” He pauses, then, “I’m okay, promise, just didn’t wanna…” He shrugs, nods towards Steve. “Gotta prioritise, y’know?”

Robin doesn’t push back on it for now, just slows her pace so Eddie isn’t jostled. “Thank you,” she says instead, lowering her voice. She nods toward Steve too. “For the…”

“Style improvement? Yeah, you’re welcome.”

This time Robin only lets him get away with belittling it for so long; it’s important, she thinks, that he knows.

“I mean it. He wouldn’t have taken it if you hadn’t—he’s…” She sighs. The greatest Tammy Thompson impersonator. Stupidly funny. Serious, when he has to be. Caring. Selfless. My best friend. “Stubborn.”

Eddie laughs under his breath. “Oh, and you’re not? What the hell was that back there?” He drops into a gently mocking impression of her voice, “I made that shit up.”

“I was just being honest!”

“Way to give me a heart attack.” She feels him squeeze the crook of her elbow. “Don’t do it again.”

And there’s that balancing act again, joking but not. Robin hears it for what it is. Don’t leave me alone. She squeezes back.

“I won’t.”

She expects Eddie to change the subject quickly. Instead he laughs—smaller, sadder. “Shit, sorry. You must think I’m—”

“No,” she says firmly. “I don’t.”

Eddie looks down like he’s just watching his step, nothing more. But his hold around Robin’s arm tightens again. He clears his throat.

“Thanks, Buckley.”

“Hey, Robin, Eddie,” Steve calls; Robin feels Eddie jump. “There’s vines up ahead, like…” He turns around and indicates where with the flashlight. Then he catches Robin’s eye, knits his eyebrows slightly. You okay?

She smiles in reassurance before subtly tilting her head towards Eddie, wrinkles her nose. 

Steve’s forehead relaxes. The tiniest nod. Yeah, I know. Got my eye on it.

Because of course he’d noticed the hurt knee despite Eddie’s attempt to hide it; Robin recalls now one of Steve’s rants about his time at school, how he’d often clock injuries during basketball games before the borderline neglectful coach.

And then she realises that Steve’s been walking backwards throughout their silent conversation, alternating between lighting the way for Nancy, and for her and Eddie.

She rolls her eyes, briefly draws a circle in the air with her finger. Now you’re just showing off.

Steve grins, waggles his eyebrows ridiculously. Oh, yeah? What’re you gonna do about it?

But he obligingly turns around, as Nancy gives him a sidelong, questioning look. He answers, too far away to hear, points behind him with his free hand like he’s explaining something. Then his hand goes to the vest, rubbing his thumb absentmindedly over the denim near the collar; Robin smiles.

“So, uh, how likely is it that I’m gonna get that back?” Eddie asks. He sounds amused, like he’s just noticed the same thing as Robin.

“Like, out of ten?” She pretends to think about it. “Two point five.”

Eddie snorts. “Wow, thanks.”

It’s a compliment, Eddie, she thinks, recalling the select few sweaters that Steve fiddles with in winter. He only does that with clothes he really loves.

“You’re not the first. He steals my sunglasses all the time.”

Eddie bursts out laughing. “Figures. He’d look good in anything, it’s so unfair.”

And it doesn’t sound serious; it’s said off the cuff, like it doesn’t have to mean anything. But Robin’s growing more certain that she can hear what’s hiding underneath—that, however hesitantly, she’s being tested.

“Yeah, but we’re not supposed to actually tell him that, he’ll never shut up about it.” As Eddie laughs, she elbows him gently, reaches across to tug at one of the zippers on his sleeve. “So are you providing a permanent service with your clothes? Cause I call dibs on your jacket.”

Eddie laughs again; the mix of disbelief and joy in the sound is familiar—Robin’s heard it come from herself not all that long ago. It takes a while to sink in, that friendship can be found so easily—an uncomplicated, earnest type of love once thought lost to kindergarten; it doesn’t have to hurt.

(“I didn’t need the truth serum to say it,” Robin had confessed during a terminally slow day at Family Video. “I think, deep down, I trusted you.”

“Oh,” Steve said softly and watched the rest of the movie they’d thrown on dewy-eyed.)

There’s a spring in Eddie’s step now despite the limp. He calls out like he’s on a summer hiking trail, “Are we there yet?”

Nancy chuckles. “No. Are you five?”

“Wheeler, I’m shocked that you’d repeat the baseless lies of the school faculty.”

Steve turns, his grin caught by the flashlight—and he looks younger suddenly, Robin thinks, like he’s in class, sneaking a look at someone in the seat behind.

“Wow, dude, I’m so sorry. Are you bored? I forgot to book the entertainment.”

“Did you, Steve?” Eddie asks, all innocence. “I thought you were the entertainment.”

And as they go back and forth, it’s as if the darkness of the woods can’t reach them anymore—as Steve starts a game of I spy, and Eddie encourages Nancy to come up with equally outlandish guesses, the two of them barely keeping their giggles under control, violets, vixen, velociraptor?

“Vines, you losers!” Steve says, still grinning, walking tall like he’s totally forgotten about his injury; and Eddie turns to Robin like that had been his aim all along, “Your turn, Buckley.”

Oh, you’ll fit right in, Robin says to herself before jumping into the game—as they all, at least for a little while, leave fear behind.

[kittyfrisk9]

IdeaDpxDc—There are better ways to meet someone.

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Dead On Main. Soul mates.

---

"Exactly... what does this ring do?" The shining ring was still attached to his finger. This wouldn't worry him if it weren't for the fact that, with each passing minute, the ring emitted more light, and that can't be good.

The cult leader refused to speak. He wouldn't even look at him, seeming particularly attentive to the material the floor was made of. Very funny that now he was scared of him when, an hour ago, he was giving a very cliché speech about how humanity was doomed because it would summon the evil of evils.

It wasn't very smart of him to perform his summoning precisely in Gotham City, home of the Dark Knight.

Red Hood was getting impatient. He placed the hand without the ring on his weapon; if words didn't work, a real threat to his life would. And this didn't really break Bruce's 'no killing' rule because the gun was only loaded with rubber bullets. However, just as he was about to advance and shoot the guy, he saw Batman grab the leader's tunic collar and lift him up.

The man, of course, screamed in fear. "Speak, what does that ring do?" No jokes. Batman's voice was deeper than usual, showing that he was upset, no, rather angry.

Or worried, but Jason could never consider that possibility. For the moment, he was only surprised, although it didn't show through his helmet.

"I-I don't know," the leader replied. Poor guy, he seemed about to cry. Batman, not content, tightened his grip even more; he wasn't willing to tolerate a lie this time.

Red Robin raised an eyebrow. "You managed to gather a bunch of magical artifacts for your summoning and you don't know what they do?"

The man looked away. "No..." The rest of the cult members also looked away. Very brave and stupid of them to all agree to lie to the bats. Jason himself wanted to mock them, but the ring kept shining. He couldn't mock when the ring kept shining and he didn't know what it meant.

From the communications, Robin could be heard. "Tt, this wouldn't be happening if Hood hadn't put on the ring." Jason suppressed a growl.

"Kid, I didn't put on the ring. This thing stuck to me the moment I touched it." It was true. In the middle of the operation to stop the ritual, Jason had pulled the ring, which at that moment was a kind of necklace by the chain that ran through it, from a member who was wearing it. The ring in his hand began to glow and suddenly teleported to his ring finger, then stopped shining. It was when everything calmed down that the ring began to release a different, but constant light.

Approximately ten minutes have passed since then, he thought as he looked at the ring, ignoring all the magical stuff; it was actually a very simple ring. Suddenly, the ring began to blink.

Oh, no. That couldn't be good.

Batman, fed up with the leader's silence and his followers, threw the man meters ahead. "Oracle, call Zatanna now, we need more information about the ring," he ordered as he approached the man who was in pain from the fall. The guy, terrified by the violent aura of the Dark Knight, tried to retreat.

Finally, Nightwing stepped between the man and the brutal beating he would receive if he didn't speak.

"It's okay, B, calm down." With his hand on his father's shoulder, Dick tried to ease the atmosphere. "I understand your concern. We are all worried about what the ring might do to Hood. But we can't let fear and anger control us. Hood is important to all of us. He is our brother, your son. We can't lose our cool now. Let's call Wonder Woman. If no one wants to talk, she can help us with the lasso of truth."

Total silence. Jason didn't know what to say; he didn't think his family would react like this over a blinking ring. That is... he doesn't know. Suddenly, the ring's light began to blink faster.

Batman, after Nightwing's words and seeing the change in the ring, understood that he couldn't waste time with someone who wouldn't talk. "You're right, thank you Nightwing." Looking at the others, he said: "We need to act quickly, we don't know the effects the ring might have on Hood. We need to take him to the cave for a thorough analysis, no discussions." The last part he said looking at Jason. "Until then, don't try to take it off or use it."

Jason scoffed, as if he would.

"Oracle, you heard, call Diana. Red Robin and I will take care of the rest of the cult. Nightwing, take Red Hood to the cave." Batman began giving orders as he reached the leader and began dragging him towards the rest of his cult. The leader, in a failed attempt, tried to resist. "Agent A, please prepare a stretcher. Understood?"

Everyone nodded.

On the other hand, the touching speech and the strange family moment of the bats seemed to soften the heart of a girl from the cult, who in a whisper said: "The ring, nothing will happen to him." Although she spoke quietly, everyone present heard her.

The leader, panicking that the information would be revealed, exclaimed: "Catrina, shut up!" However, he was struck by Batman, who was already fed up with the guy.

"What do you have to say about the ring?" he asked.

The woman hesitated to speak. "We thought of using the ring to subdue the king of the dead and make him listen to our orders..." She paused, not knowing how to continue. "There is a real legend about the ring. A long time ago, a witch wanted to know who her soulmate was, so she created the ring. This allows one to be guided to their soulmate through the red thread. I think everyone already knows what the red thread is." Nervous, she looked around. Only Nightwing nodded, and that was enough for her to continue telling. "Well, the witch's red thread connected with a prince. Unfortunately for everyone, the prince was not happy that his soulmate was a witch. So he had her killed." The girl looked at her hands; that part of the story was sad. "The witch was angry, but still wanted her soulmate to accept her, so she rewrote the ring's original purpose. It was no longer something that united you with your soulmate, but now it was something that allowed you to subdue your soulmate... uh, this." She pointed to a book that was lying in a corner. "With another spell, in fact, it can be used to subdue anyone, even a king of the dead."

With the whole story already told, Red Robin asked: "So, what is the ring doing to Red Hood?"

"It's tracking his soulmate. I... didn't get to put the other spell on it. I could only activate the ring's primary function. Your brother will be fine."

That definitely changes things. Jason swore he could hear his heart beating. A soulmate, wow. He admits he's read many romance novels and maybe once dreamed of it, but for it to actually happen, wow.

Suddenly, the ring stopped blinking. Five seconds later, everyone saw a red thread shoot out from the ring's gem. It quickly moved in one direction, went through the wall, and kept going. The process was like a fishing rod when it catches a fish.

"Does this mean it already found its soulmate?" Red Robin asked. Astonished by the red thread, he tried to touch it but his hand went through it; apparently, the thread was intangible to anyone else.

"Yes," the cultist also seemed astonished.

Jason felt a look on him, turned, it was his brother. Oh no, not that look, he knew that smile; Dick would tease him so much in the coming days. For his part, Batman sighed in relief. Well, it wasn't such an extreme danger, but it was still dangerous. "Agent A, cancel the stretcher." He never imagined this would mean a soulmate case. "Oracle, don't cancel the call to Zatanna or Wonder Woman, we need to verify the information. We'll stay here until the police arrive."

How nice it would be if everything ended like that, right? With Dick joking with Jason, Tim analyzing the thread, Barbara laughing at the turn of events, Bruce relieved and Damian surprised. However, one must remember the story.

The witch changed the ring's original purpose. Unexpectedly, the thread began to retract, as if it had caught something. It did so so quickly that Jason grabbed his hand in pain. It was then that everyone had a bad feeling. The wall the thread had previously passed through suddenly exploded, the noise and dust alerting everyone, especially when once the chaos disappeared, something horrific could be seen.

An arm. A fucking arm. Apparently freshly torn from its owner. Oh, no. What did it do to his soulmate?

...

Somewhere else in the world, somewhere in the United States, Danny gasped in pain. What the hell? What was that? Ancients! Where is his arm?

---

Note: Sorry, I don't know English, so please use a translator. I apologize if you don't get the idea.

Edited on 06/21/2024 - Note two: Thanks to redflagshipwriter, who continued this idea below. And to Sakuravalelp who made me laugh with the complement.

[s-4pphics]

we’re not at Wendy’s anymore, toto…

SYNOPSIS: dropping fries or drawls?

WORD COUNT: 2.0K

WARNINGS: THIS IS CRACK AND VERY UNSERIOUS! FT. AGGRESSIVE FLIRTING, oc is a big titty pansexual and the wendy’s robin hood, ellie is a butch-dyking, fry-dropping misandrist who frowns a lot, mentions of mary jay, MDNI: TIT AND SPIT PLAY, MILD DIRTY TALK

A/N: i literally have no plan for this it’s just for shits n gigs. obsessed with their dynamic lowkey first part LOL

TAGLIST: @areyna @dyk3ang3l @grotesquevi @lucidfairies @aphrodyk3 @edenspoem @ssshhh-imreading @sappho-favourite-pupil @spoilmyfun @alpha-whoore @xxmoonyxx12 @wheni013 @elliesluckycharm @kuv1ras @euph0riafilms @rockwizard43 @inf3rn4lia @lillybunns @berlin1994 @weirdero @ferxanda @dulcerbbns @z456 @cheyshaunted @justarandomflowerchildofthenight @jayy2inlove @breathinlove @piercedome @aagutzke @sawaagyapong

This is not how Ellie thought she’d be spending her 15: outside at 11:47PM with her best friend calling her loose.

“This whole time, I thought, ‘wow, maybe Ellie has changed! Maybe she isn’t easy anymore’, but look at you! It took one hotbox and a hot box to—“

She massages her temples, “Riley—“

“I can’t lie and say y'all wouldn’t be hot together—Imma need that tape by the way, but Jesus Christ, get a grip—“

Why’d Ellie think confiding in her best friend about her new friend would be a good idea? Why’d she think befriending you in the first place was a good idea?

You’ve infiltrated her midnight sessions like a demonic witch. 3 days of pure torture: her waking up an hour before work steaming under her blankets, drenched in sweat and brain cursed with the image of you still with a full throat, only now… it follows her to work. Fuckass Wendy’s.

No one’s caught on—except for Riley, fuck her intuition—to the too long gazes shared between you, the playful shoulder bumps when you walk by her station, and the biggest one of all…

As Riley put it, “they’re not leaving a snail trail on the tile anymore. I think you tamed ‘em a little. Good for you, friend.”

But Ellie’s not trying to tame you. You can do, talk to, fuck, who and whatever you please. She doubts she’s made that much of an impact on you in such a short amount of time, but she does notice that you’re a bit more… chill? Chilled out? Still a menace, but slightly more selective with who you enchant.

That fucking shirt is still too tight, though.

And now, she wants to dunk whoever’s accepted your muted salaciousness into her 400 degree oil tank.

Ellie’s not a jealous person… She wasn’t, but there’s a deep sense of rage that overtakes her whenever men men men compliment you. It’s murderous, borderline sadistic what she envisions in her head while she throws their cheese slices on their limp. Dick. Fries. She despises their existence, wants nothing more than for them to die, or at the very least, shut the fuck up—

“I invited them over tonight.”

“… WHAT THE FUCK—“

… Yeah. Ellie felt so guilty about rain-checking you last week, but her cat got sick. Her baby wouldn’t stop vomiting.

A head pokes out from behind the back door, “Uh, y’all break ended 7 minutes ago.”

… Clock watcher. Maybe Ellie doesn’t hate all men. Jesse’s a guardian angel sent to protect her against the incoming force that is her best friend.

“BITCH, IT’S TUESDAY, WE’RE DEAD!” Riley shouts in his direction, “THE FUCK DO YOU MEAN THEY’RE COMING OVER—“

“Who’s coming over? Coming here? Health inspectors?—“

“I needa pee.” Ellie’s already booking it towards the restroom, an excited Riley trucking close behind while Jesse panics about The Pope possibly eating at Wendy’s in the middle of fucking Wyoming.

“WHO’S COMING TONIGHT? HELLOOO—“

“YOU—YOU’RE FAKE AS HELL! YOU WAITED THIS LONG TO TELL ME ABOUT Y’ALL—“

“Shut up, I’m peeing, byeee, love ya, bye I needa pee, bye—“

The door shuts and locks, but she hears them yelling. A couple bangs on the door.

Just when she thought she found sanctuary…

“Hey.”

You stand by the mirror adjusting your tits in your tight ass shirt. All buttons are undone today, just her fucking luck.

“… You didn’t lock the door.”

“I wasn’t pissing.” You hold Pennifer up in your hand like a trophy, and Ellie snickers.

“Started without me?”

“Was fienin’,” With no hesitation, you offer it over, “Wanna pregame?”

She doesn’t mean to snatch it, but she’s a bit jittery. She puffs from, exhales in the opposite direction from you.

“I like when you do that.” Your tongue sounds larger in your mouth. Ellie has to puff again to keep from laughing.

“Do what. Get high on the job?” She whirs around smoke, but you ignore her.

“Tough night?” You nod towards the door that’s still being punched in by Riley.

“Somethin’ like that, yeah.”

“I HATE YOU, BITCH! NEXT TIME YOU WANNA SNEAK, LEMME KNOW—“

“Damn… what happened?”

“I just… I told her you were coming over tonight.” She hands Pennifer back.

Ellie’s surprised when you laugh. She half expected you to be irritated for snitching you both out to someone at work, was so prepared to ride for how trustworthy Riley is, that she wouldn’t get you both fired for workplace flirting and potential bathroom fondling.

But you don’t seem to care, just asks a simple question,

“Should I be concerned?”

She knows what you’re implying. Her head immediately shakes in denial. “I told you. Just a friend. She’s just nosy.”

“Alrighty,” you purr, and Ellie’s heart skyrockets when you take 2 steps closer. The bathroom suddenly feels like a funnel tube. Tight, closed-off, trapping, but she doesn’t leave. The door’s right there; she can’t bring herself to open it.

The pounding suddenly comes to a pause before irritated footsteps vacate the outside.

Ellie can’t stop the ache that blooms in her core or the watering of her mouth when both your hands rise to rest on your chest, the pudge poking through the gaps between your fingers. Either you're that soft, or you’re not wearing a bra.

“Buttons or no buttons?” Asked with fluttery lashes.

Ellie swallows. “One button.” For my fucking sanity, she wants to add, but you got enough ego to cover a goddamn army.

“Help me? Full hands ‘n allat.” That bottom lip juts out slightly and your lashes flutter, and it takes everything for Ellie to not press your face against this filthy ass door. Never in her life did she think she’d reach this level of depravity, but it’s been days. Days. She’s fucking starving for you.

Unfortunately, she has smidge of dignity, and wants you to keep yours.

So she buttons the last one, knuckles brushing against that small sliver of skin, taking in the way your pupils shake with every maneuver of her fingers. Your gaze alone could light a match. Start a forest fire. Burn this whole building to the fucking ground if you wanted.

“Thanks!” You say in your usual bushy-tailed tone, gently shoving Ellie aside to unlock and open the door. “Hi, favorite coworkers!”

The screaming stops, and Ellie’s head knocks back on the wall.

The last thing she wants to do is see her friends' faces. Riley’s hollering is enough.

“… WHAT IN THE FUCK IS GOING ON—“

Ellie’s sigh leaves her breathless.

—

“Welcome to my humble abode.”

Ellie shuts the door behind her, untangles her earplugs from around her neck to drop them, along with her keys, on the dining room table before shrugging her jacket off.

You were pretty quiet on the ride over. Made her a little nervous… A lot nervous.

“Why, thank you.” Ellie can’t hide her smile at your courtesy.

She watches your wandering eyes, moving all over her decorated walls, sloppy paint jobs, shredded up couch from kitten claws. She hopes you don’t notice the coffee stain that she could never remove.

“‘S very you.”

“I would hope so,” her feet carry her to the kitchen, “want a drink? I haaave…” She inspects her fridge. Empty, minus the to-go box, 3 beers, and 2 jugs of berry Minute Maid.

… Awkward. You’re a peckish pothead. Couldn’t even bother to get you a meal on the way home. Dumbass.

“Damn, bitch, no water?” You laugh, and Ellie huffs.

“You’re lucky I drank all my O-negative this morning. You’d be pissing yourself.”

“Sike, I’d buss it wide open for a vampire.”

She flushes before shutting the fridge and guiding you to the couch with a hand on your back.

“We matching? Or are you robbing me again?” You nudge her playfully before rummaging through your purse, and Ellie follows, pulling two jays out of her backpack.

Soon enough, your hands are stocked with Pennifer, a ziplock baggie of your own pre-rolls, and a… fucking butane lighter that your hand can barely close around.

“Goddamn—“

You cackle. “Shut up! Couldn’t find my pink one.”

“So you brought a fucking campfire?”

“If you’re gonna judge, you can spark yourself. Don’t mind m—“

Ellie snatches your lighter with an eye roll that borderline launches them to her brain, flickering the lighter on. It feels like a fucking fireplace. You’re ridiculous.

But you’re quiet. Ellie sparks the end with as much skill as you did last week.

Speaking of.

“Sorry I had to cancel a few days ago—”

“No need to be.”

“My cat got sick and it freaked me out. So. Yeah.”

“Aww, nooo,” you whine sympathetically. Even in your times of softness, that pout makes her lightheaded.

“Where's the baby? Is it okay?”

“He’s fine now. With my… dad.” She passes the jay to you. Watches you puff like a hawk, tinted chapstick smearing the edge. “I pick him up tomorrow.”

“That’s good. What’s the baby’s name?”

“Stewart.” She says stoically.

“… Is he orange?”

“Yes.”

“I can tell. He fucked this couch up.”

Ellie smiles. “You should see my room.”

“Is that an invite?”

Her heart stutters in her chest, but her gaze doesn’t falter from yours. She simply takes the joint from your grip, speaks around her puff.

“It’s whatever you want it to be.”

“Well.”

“Well what.” She pins.

“I want your mouth on my tits.”

“… And I want your tits in my mouth.” She speaks through a dry throat and a thrumming core, your tone set deep in her bones.

You nod your head once before unbuttoning the button she buttoned for you earlier, leaving your greasy cloth on the floor.

“Well… Lean.” Your hands gesture backwards.

And Ellie does, back pressed against her couch cushions, joint hanging from her fingers, almost as low as her eyes. Her suspicions were correct: you’re that soft and braless. You throw a leg over her lap, tits jiggling in her face.

She nearly yanks you down onto her lap when your lips curl around the joint, the orange end cresting like the sun in the morning.

“Suck on ‘em.” Smoke wafts in her face and she curses low and broken.

Your nipple beckons her lips and your hand flies to yank at her hair, pleased whines leaving your lips and vibrating down to her toes. She can barely gather the strength to rub on you like she wants; she’s too enraptured by your softness.

And your filth. That fucking mouth...

“You’re eating ‘em up like a fucking slut.” You whisper in astonishment before pressing a kiss atop her head. Ellie moans around you in response, tongue swirling messily around your areola before suctioning your nipple, drinking in your satisfied squeaks.

One of your nipples is more sensitive than the other. It's cute how loud you get when her teeth rub on them. Just an inch. Enough to get you jumping on her lap like a bunny.

They’re so heavy on her tongue, so soft in her mouth. She’s sure her jeans are staining with her slick… and yours. She can practically smell you.

“Ellie, ‘m—oh fuck, I might cum—“

Her muscles act on their own accord, her joint-less hand coming down to whack your ass, mouth popping off to spit sloppy on both your tits, rubbing her mess in with her tongue.

“You’re so hot, you’re so hot, m’cumming, ohhh fuck—“

Your arm closes tight on the back of her neck, shoving her face tight against your breasts and she accepts that she’ll happily die here: under you, trapped by your scent and your skin and your yipped thanks for the nut.

You have to shove Ellie off your tits after your comedown, thighs clamping shut on her lap when her teeth nick your more sensitive nip, her mouth matching your chest in wetness.

“Fuck.” She exhales, head plummeting on the back of the couch. Tokes one last time. Blows it in your face between giving you one.

“I thought you were a fucking prude when I met you. My fault.” You exhaust through heaves and clouds. She shakes her head uncaringly, massages your tit just to watch you twitch.

“You want another one?” She asks plainly despite the throbbing between her thighs.

“… You serious?”

“Yeah.”

“Sure… After you show me what’s in your nightstand.”

Ellie chuckles. She’s always loved a bargain.

[scoops-aboy86]

Here’s an out of the ordinary career option for Steve: teppanyaki chef. You know, the guys at Japanese hibachi restaurants that do the whole show of cooking your food right there at a big grill on the table and tossing food into people’s mouths and flipping their cooking implements like it’s no big. 

Inspired largely by the fact that I had teppanyaki earlier this week and the chef, in addition to flipping eggs into his hat and then onto his spatula to break them, was making shrimp fried rice and spelled “I” with the shrimp, “❤️” with the rice, and “U” either the veg and egg. 

Just picture Steve, in the goofy tall hat that does even fewer favors for his hair than the Scoops hat, doing that with the same goofy grin on his face as during the lightsaber handshake bit.

Maybe rockstar Eddie comes in with the band and an entourage one night. He notices Steve making silly faces back and forth with Robin (one of the bartenders or a seating host or something) across the room, and thinks it’s cute. He joins in making silly faces at Steve, who is *delighted* and 100% starts doing it back because usually the customers are too wrapped up in their own lives to notice. 

Robin is a little annoyed that her work buddy has been co-opted for the night, but once she gets a better look at Eddie she just rolls her eyes and laughs under her breath because he is definitely Steve’s type. Then her eyes move a fraction to the left and she notices Corroded Coffin’s manager, Chrissy Cunningham, and immediately goes 😍 for the rest of their stay.

Steve is supposed to spread his attention equally around the table, and he sort of does, but Eddie definitely gets more food tossed in his mouth than anyone else. Maybe he brought a date (possibly a groupie, possibly just someone willing to put out for a celebrity, he’d just sort of shrugged like “okay, sure” when they attached themself to him) for the evening that he’s totally ignoring, because as far as he’s concerned no one else is as interesting as the pretty chef. The date gets visibly more grumpy, which the rest of the band definitely notices, but they all just sort of roll their eyes and sigh because Steve is definitely Eddie’s type, sorry friend, don’t know what to tell ya. Eventually the date gets up saying they’re going to the bathroom, but they take their coat. It takes Eddie, like, half an hour to notice. 

And Steve keeps doing those little flippy things, like with his ice cream scoop and the nail bat, all. The. Time. It’s not even a gimicky restaurant thing, he’s just Like That. He says he can do it with anything and Gareth immediately produces drumsticks (I have never met a drummer who did not have drumsticks on them at all times, often even when another pair has been confiscated), and Steve takes about three seconds to figure out how to twirl them like a pro. Eddie is already removing a ring to propose. Chrissy makes some sort of comment about being in the color guard for marching band (in addition to cheerleading) and speculating whether Steve could spin a saber or rifle and he’s so confident he could do it that Eddie is like, “When is your next break, that could be our honeymoon baby” because he is going to eat this man alive. 

Suffice it to say, Steve ends the night with his dick sucked and within a week he’s gotten Chrissy’s number for Robin, who he’s been talking up incessantly. A month later, he puts Gareth in touch with Will about some sort of artistic commission that Gareth wants, which eventually leads to Will finally ending his pining over Mike streak. 

Steve has to formally apologize to Jeff and Doug for not having any more single friends to introduce them to, but he promises to keep an eye out. In the meantime, have they ever tried Purple Palm Tree Delight? Because he knows a guy…