#but then they just did the same thing with robin and it bombed so fucking hard 💀

[thepunkmuppet]

ever notice that robin wood and daniel holtz both try to take revenge on the demons who killed their family members despite the fact that said demons now have souls and are good guys?

holtz definitely started out an innocent, but is deemed a villain because he doesn’t just go for angel, he also kills people and allies with demons and steals a baby to raise him in a torture dimension. fair enough!

robin funnily enough does not do all of that.

and yet when spike beats him (to a literal bloody pulp, mind you) spike is seen as some kind of hero and we’re supposed to sympathise and side with him. you know, instead of the traumatised four year old boy whose mother he murdered.

and also willow literally skinned a man alive for killing her girlfriend, but she is absolutely not given that type of treatment. she is given nuance and depth and a redemption arc and is not beaten down and essentially told to shut the fuck up instead of dealing with her grief through channels other than revenge.

just wondering if you guys ever noticed that because I did and I just think me and joss whedon need to have a polite conversation

[confused-wanderer]

It would be hilarious if villains loved Nightwing and were terrified of Officer Dick Grayson.

Dick Grayson- who is used to open spaces and adrenaline- being stuck in a boring bleak office, surviving on shots of coffee and red bull with caffeine that would make Tim concerned.

The thugs soon realised that unlike most of the other cops - Dick was from Gotham.

No one fucks with Gothamites.

Villain *shooting at Dick with machine guns*

Dick *appearing from the shadows behind him*: Boo.

Villain: THIS IS A FIVE STOREY BUILDING HOW THE HELL DID YOU GET HERE

Or

Thief *throwing a counting down bomb at Dick*

Dick: *catching and tossing the bomb at a safe distance before turning round and shooting it so it explodes mid air while running after thief*

Thief: .. what the actual fuck

Dick: Gee look at all that time you had! Shame you threw it away :D

Thief:

Dick: I’m from Gotham

Thief *realising they fucked up* : Please don’t steal my bones

OR

Shooter: *sets elaborate booby traps throughout the houses in an active hostage situation*

Dick *using his training as robin and inhuman flexibility to surpass them with ease*: Ah been a while since I got to have a nice stretch thank you.

Shooter:

Dick:

Shooter:

Dick: .. Hi :)

Shooter: Are you Satan?

AND

In interrogation room

Murderer: I think I’ll take your eyes and add them to my collection

Dick *running on spite and caffeine that could give Superman a sugar rush* : Funny.. I was going to say the same thing to you

Murderer: .. what

Dick: I wouldn’t take your eyes though.. they look like the inspiration behind the whole Medusa’s “look at it and you turn to stone” thing-

Murderer: Hey! Take that back before I gut you

Dick *smile stretching wider without blinking* : oh? Or what? I know everything about you. Who says I can’t kill you and walk out with everyone being none the wiser? I know how to kill someone too..you aren’t special.

Murderer:

Murderer: I’m scared for my safety.

Because the thing is, Nightwing is who Dick really is. It’s who he can be free as, be himself as without red tapes and regulations. Where he can give as good as he gets, and he’s kind and empathetic. He gets to help the downtrodden and goes easy on most of them if they give up right away, not to mention the fact that he never causes permanent damage.

But officer Dick Grayson is a different story. He runs on sleepless nights and no self preservation. Seeing an officer with an uncanny skill set they’re scarily good at, not to mention the cheery attitude he always has scares the shit out of criminals. Cuz no way in hell is a smiling Gothamite not a deranged one. He chases crimes like a bloodhound, and isn’t afraid to make good on threats he makes to ensure they never hurt anyone again.

Bonus if the batfam doesn’t know about this.

Red hood: Shit I can’t believe we ended up in Bludhaven

Red Robin *tying up the corrupt politican* : Since this is a sensitive case, we need someone we can trust to make sure it is seen through.

Red hood: .. So we paying a visit to Officer Grayson?

Politician *screeching* : NO NO NO NO! PLEASE NOT HIM!! JUST KILL ME INSTEAD AND TAKE ALL MY MONEY I CANT DEAL WITH HIM!

Red hood: .. is he fucking serious?

Henchmen: Sir he is. And we agree. Please take our bones and kill us but don’t take us to Officer Grayson.

Red Robin: Wait what did he do?

Henchman 1: He asked boss if the hat was sentient.. and said that if it was would it make that hat the top and boss the bottom.

Henchman 2: Last time we met I tried to shoot him but suddenly my gun was blank and he raised his hand and let the ammo drop

Red Hood: Well even I could do that-

Henchman 2: They were my bullets. I had selected the colour personally.

Red robin *growing concerned*

Henchman 3: He sang a lullaby to a child when we were holding the station hostage, and replaced the people with my family members. He even sang their social security numbers!

Henchman 4: He’s the most dangerous of them all. I ain’t shitting ya when I say he’s as scary as the bat from Gotham.

*all nodding in agreement*

Red hood:

Red Robin:

Red hood: Nah that doesn’t sound like Dick

Red Robin: Agreed. Let’s go there Hood.

*villains’ sobbing intensifies*

[roseworth]

what direction do you think they should have gone in with jason? as in where should he be now in terms of people and what he's doing

i think winick had it exactly right green arrow #69-72 and batman & robin #23-25. he was a villain but he had a Method and a Purpose. and usually that purpose was just to fuck with batman. i loooove it when hes a villain and hes very clearly doing bad things, but hes not just indiscriminately killing people. hes doing it for a reason, hes still doing the same thing he was doing in utrh by controlling the drug trade, and even when hes doing the right thing hes being an asshole about it

i especially love the ga issues because jason doesnt even talk to batman but bruce KNOWS what hes doing and he knows its about him. i love the bruce & jason post-utrh dynamic where they've both pretty much said everything they have to say and neither of them is changing their position, so now jason is just starting fires to get attention. "ok bruce you dont want to talk to me? thats fine. ill just follow you to star city then psychologically torture a teenage girl then blow her up in front of you" icon! i forgive him! i think its so fun when red hood is a member of batman's rogues gallery and bruce feels bad every time he fights him but also he kinda cant stand him since he knows jason is only doing it to mess with him and its working. but also jason is a Greater Good person so he DOES end up working with the bats sometimes just because theyre also working on the good side

anyways the ideal bruce & jason dynamic to me is "the love was there and it made everything so much worse" because jason is doing everything for bruces attention because he loves him and wants him to care about him but hes not willing to budge on his own morals and neither is bruce. and bruce loves jason so he doesnt want to arrest him or put him in danger but also hes killing people and doing terrible things and bruce is batman so he feels obligated to. yk. stop him. and as much as they both love each other they do not like each other at all

in my mind jason doesnt really care about any of the other bats besides dick & babs just because he knew them before he died so hes willing to hang out with them but they Do Not want to see him. like in brothers in blood when jason goes hiiiii dick <3 lets hang out <3333 and dick is constantly suppressing the cain instinct. he never really talks to babs pre52 i think theyre interactions would be very similar in that jason goes hey babs ur so cool <33 and she says jason get the fuck away from me or im activating the bomb in your helmet <3

but also with steph even though he didnt know her pre-death,, i think he would like her. i can imagine him doing something very similar to what he did with mia, basically finding her and going "quit your vigilante career. join my emo band" but i think she would end up being a lot more receptive to it than mia was ! like im thinking batgirl 2009 era steph so she would not be on board with the idea of joining him since things were going well with team batgirl, but i also think that any interaction between the two of them in that era would go well and end with them getting along :)

as for everyone else. i dont think he would care about any of them. theyre just kinda collateral damage in his war with bruce. like he gets involved with them sometimes just because of their proximity to bruce, or like i said earlier that he works with them sometimes because he cares about the greater good so is willing to help them when necessary. also honorable mention to aoifa's headcanon that jason doesnt actually know tims name because he just does not care. thats canon to me

so yeah in conclusion: he should be a morally grey villain that does what he does either for the greater good, or to fuck with batman, or both. and he has complicated relationships with all of them bc he likes bruce dick and babs but also kinda hates all of them and they like but also hate him too. and the rest of them he doesn't really give a shit about

[anystalker707]

Giving him silent treatment

Pairing: Vinsmoke Sanji x [gender neutral] Reader Words: ~ 1 400 Summary: You end up giving Sanji a silence treatment after the latest events. Tags: Sanji is very boyfriend / But also very dramatic / Just a little lack of communication

Requested by anon

A/N: i feel. nervous about this. ooc, maybe?

• Sanji will notice it right away that you're a little different with him, not glancing at him whenever he is around nor making a comment about how his good dish tastes

• You even decide to go with Usopp, Luffy, Robin, Franky and Zoro when you stop at this new island instead of with Chopper, Nami and Sanji like the usual (Brook had stayed back to watch the ship

• You’re there watching Luffy get chased by a local animal while Franky and Usopp uselessly try to help him out—now you understand the reason they never get anything done—when you comment something about just helping them out at once

• At first, Zoro just hums in agreement as he was there along with Robin and you watching the three fools, but then he pauses and raises an eyebrow at you. "What are you doing here? Where is the shitty cook?"

• Your face twisted in a way Zoro decided not to ask any further

• You’re back at the ship and Sanji will ask where you were, met with no answer once again

• Maybe you're distracted? Busy with something else? So he will let you be for a while and later come by, more of testing the waters, asking you about what you were talking about with Robin or if stupid Marimo bothered you too much

• He will feel completely lost with you not answering and absolutely reduced to a shrimp size once you glare at him in a quiet acknowledgement of his presence because he needs to know you're aware of him and just not answering on purpose, otherwise he'd just be convinced you're distracted again

• Absolutely devastated. Will enter in collapse mode and go over every single little thing that he did because he can't handle (y/n)—his beloved (y/n)—stopping loving him under any circumstances, even more for something he may have done without conscience. He won't be able to live a single day without you giving him attention, he might as well die if you're never going to talk with him again—his mind does escalate that quickly

• Will be found obsession cooking for the next couple of hours because cooking helps him think and Luffy doesn't see any problem with it

• Later, he comes to you with your favorite dish and that lost puppy face when you're sitting at a table on Sunny's deck

• ...It’s hard to resist to it, but it's for the best, so you just send him a look before returning your attention to the sea and wait until he walks away so you can eat the dish he leaves on the table

• Okay, Sanji will give you a while longer, still trying to make up with you until the end of the day, but the fact he doesn't get any good night kiss nor good morning hug starts to drive him crazy

• Baby boy will fucking cry. He cries the same way he did when you were captured by Crocodile and then again by Enel, with this angst heavy in his chest with the sensation he will never again have you cuddling him to sleep or kiss your cheek when you sit on his lap or even receive an adoring look from you because he's just that insecure with finally getting a partner after many failed attempts

"(Y/n)?" You looked to the side to see Nami standing there; you were sitting at the same place as the previous day, messing with a book you fixed on the last island. She furrowed her eyebrows a little, scratching the back of her head. "Is everything alright?"

"...I would say so, kind of, why?"

"Well, you and Sanji seem a little... off, y'know." Nami pulled the other chair back to have a seat. "You weren't buying spices with him yesterday, he seemed pretty lost. Also, he is crying."

"He's what?" Your eyes widened at how she'd dropped the bomb with such casualty and no more explanation.

Nami nodded, crossing her arms over her chest. "Like, go talk with him! That's what I'm saying."

You cringed a little, sighing as you closed your book and leaned a little forward on the chair. Maybe giving him silent treatment wasn't the best way to deal with it in long-term; not only Nami had to approach the situation, but Sanji was fucking crying, also. Not that you weren't used to his dramatic behavior, but it was true it'd been a while since he last showed up and it usually wasn't a good sign if he was stuck in the galley like that.

"Take care." You slid your book to Nami with a sigh before you stood up and moved to go find Sanji.

The ingredients for whatever other dish Sanji was preparing received all the feelings he had supressed, being chopped quickly and with more force than needed while Sanji cried alone in the galley. You sighed at the sight, rolling your eyes half-heartedly before you closed the door behind yourself and approached him. Sanji looked over his shoulder and sniffled before he cried more.

"Hey, San, I—"

"I'm so sorry, my love, I don't know what I did, so maybe I'm not so worthy of your love anymore and..." He continued rambling without stopping chopping the vegetables.

You stood there for a moment, observing the mess he was in—you could ruin him just like that? Not like you wouldn't be desolated if you thought he happened to stop liking you, but knowing someone felt this way about you was quite different.

"Stop!" You grabbed him by the lapel of his blazer so he would finally stop what he was doing. "I never stopped loving you or anything, stop saying shit!"

Sanji blinked a couple of times and sniffled, looking at you. "Then what happened, mon amour? Every second without you feels like endless torture, I—"

"Sanji." You sighed, loosening your grip and playing a little with the fabric before you let your hands fall, fumbling with your thumbs at the lack of what to do under his confused gaze. "It's just that... You had..." Hell, it felt pathetic to say it out loud, to explain how your thoughts had twisted everything. "You promised me you would go with me to a clothing store as soon as we reached a new island, then you started making plans and didn't mention it. I thought you'd just not mention it to the others, but then asked Chopper and Nami to tag along as usual, and..." You paused to take a breath, swallowing dryly as your eyes followed along the buttons of his blazer. It would be shit if your voice started cracking and failing and got teary. "I got angry and frustrated, so I left because I didn't want to be rude to you because— because what if you didn't like me and everything I say doesn't matter? But then, what if you were just distracted and never noticed we had agreed on this little date thing? I didn't want to talk with you after that because what if I said the wrong thing? Did something I shouldn't just because I was angry and impulsive? I'm so sorry, I didn't want you to..." You sighed, shifting your weight, and motioned to him.

At first, Sanji didn’t know what to say, standing there with wide eyes. "No!" He mumbled, wrapping his arms around you to hug you close. "I didn't mean to make you feel like this! Didn't I tell you, my love?"

"Tell me what?"

Sanji blinked slowly as he looked at you then frowned, letting his gaze fall to the ground at the same moment his cheeks gained a red color—he didn’t really hug you anymore, more of just holding onto your sides with his hands balled into fists around your shirt. "I—I could swear I had told you to, um, wait until we got to a nicer island than the last one... There were many things to take care of, I could swear I had told you..." His eyes filled with tears again, and you hummed understandingly, wrapping your hands around his shoulders to hug him close and press a kiss to his head. "I—I didn’t want to m—make you feel that way—"

"Oh, no," you sighed as you cleaned his face, mentally cursing yourself. "No, c'mon, no need to sacrifice yourself at this, pretty boy, it happens!"

"But—"

The way you glared at him had Sanji falling quiet with a pout, making you grin before you pecked his lips in return.

.𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟.

[brucewaynehater101]

I'm seeing a lot of asks about this and I want to give my two cents: I'm cool with Bruce being a bad father, but only if DC admits that he is a bad father.

You can't have him doing downright abusive shit only to never address it. The only character that consistently criticizes Bruce parenting is painted as entitled and vindictive. I genuinely think the reason why we can't have a decent Red Hood arc is because if you want Jason to make sense you're gonna have to admit Bruce is a fucked up father or rewrite canon.

Same reason for Tim "never aging", not so much physically but emotionally. Because to have the character establish itself like Nightwing did you would need to address at some point all the bullshit he went through. Even with Dick. Like sometimes it looks like they want to recognize how being raised by Batman fucked him up by they end up settling for "oh it's the pressure". Like that's the most DC will say "Batman puts his kids under a lot of pressure buuuuuut it's justified because they're fighting evil :)".

Not just the kids, I think Batman himself would be so much more interesting if DC was willing to let him confront these things. As a redemption arc or as a fatal flaw that keeps his family at arms length. But they want to have their cake (have Batman be edgy and give the Robins Character Development™ through good old child abuse) and eat it (have Batman be Dad of the year). And that's what doesn't work.

Batfam fandom is great because you have people making content for Good Father Bruce, Bad Dad Bruce (he's trying and it's a bit funny/tragic), Awful Father Bruce (with no intention of changing. Every option is way more interesting than DC's directionless mess. Like, we don't even need them to make Bruce Good™ we just want them to pick a side and stick to it.

Thank you. My gods that sums it up perfectly.

Like, I've got no problem consuming Good Dad Bruce content... if it's not the comics. The animated stuff is usually fine, and fanwork is also great. There's a ton to like about it.

Hell, I'm even chill if Bruce makes mistakes and errors and fucks up with his kids. That's realistic, as long as they address that he did, in fact, do that shit. They need to talk about how his actions have hurt his kids and his relationships with them. He can try to do better, or he can stay distant with his kids because of it (low to no contact). It's truly not that difficult to chat about.

Now, media that addresses all of the horrid stuff he's done and considers realistic reactions/solutions to it? Fantastic. I love that so much. It's so cathartic watching him get his ass handed to him.

It's not necessary, though. I'm chill with good dad Bruce.

Despite that, outright ignoring what he does or brushing it under the rug? That's horrific. That reads like a sickening cycle of abuse, and I can't stand it. It's the exact same shit an abuser pulls by harming their victim (psychologically, mentally, physically, etc.), apologizing (ish), finding a way to pin the blame back on the victim, and then love bombing. Like, my gods. Bruce will beat the shit out of Jason and say it's Jason's fault for killing someone... "I wouldn't harm you/take a machine to permanetly fuck up your brain if you didn't do that. It's not my fault that I decided to hurt you. It's your fault that I did."

I just fucking can't.

I think Tim, with his little statement of "I don't expect you to apologize" after Bruce caused him to have a nervous breakdown post 16th birthday, that's a close approximation to admitting that Bruce is a piece of shit that does tendencies like an abuser. No matter what someone's intentions are, they should still apologize if they've cause unjustified/unintentional harm. Only assholes who don't regret their actions or people who feel their actions are justified won't apologize. There's times when apologizing isn't necessary or desired. That's fine. I won't apologize if Comic!Bruce and I are in a room, and I "accidentally" set him on fire.

Yet, Bruce is out here fucking up his kids. At the very LEAST, they deserve a fucking apology. Maybe a restraining order.

I ranted a bit. My bad. Anyways, have DC acknowledge the shitty actions Bruce does or don't have him do them. It's simple.

[passivenovember]

Disaster hits on the thirteenth day.

Really, if Billy cared to get technical, disaster hits five minutes before the fourteenth day. Verging on a long weekend. 

It’s all detail.

He’s shitfaced to celebrate the full stop of an insane work week, he’s exhausted but floating in that perfect little space of cross-fade where he’s just happy to be barefoot watching Animal Planet in his living room, and Steve’s shitfaced because Billy is, and they’re still freshly moved into their brand new apartment when Steve drops a bomb.

“Robin,” Steve hiccups, sprawled like a newborn deer on the couch with M&M dust stuck to his lip, “Robin’s gonna set me up,” He says.

Billy itches for a cigarette but he promised Steve he’d stop smoking them. They’re adults now, in this brand-new apartment, and adults have to think about things like gum disease and lung cancer. They’re not as young as they used to be so he chews on his thumbnail instead. His brain pokes at Steve’s words with a stick and wonders if they’ll wiggle their consonants at him, raising one foot to reveal webbed membra. 

“Hmm,” Billy says in the meantime. 

“I told her not to,” Steve says distantly. He flips his feet over his head, heels hitting so hard that their bong rattles on the coffee table. “I tried to get her to stop but. She wouldn’t listen.”

Billy rights the bong with an uninterested hand. “‘Course not.”

“She’s evil.”

“She’s a lesbian,” Billy tries, shrugging his shoulders at Steve, like, what’re you gonna do, right? W.L.W.

But Billy’s arm wrestled Buckley enough times. Seen her chop and carry firewood on one shoulder just as often as she cries over rom coms, so he’s not so fucking stupid that he’d really believe lesbianism is the root of all evil, but Steve giggles anyway.

And that’s worth it.

Billy smiles to himself, smug as a bug in a rug for getting Steve to laugh like that.

“She is a lesbian,” Steve says, scooting along the couch until his head plops like wet dough into Billy’s lap. “She’s dating Heather.”

“Heather,” Billy says, tasting her name on his tongue. Hairspray and lemon drop shots. College years.

“Heather Feather,” Steve says, laughing to himself, “It’s so weird.”

“How’s it weird?”

“Just, like. They orbited each other in high school. Like we did, y’know?”

Billy doesn’t know. But his heart stops and kickstarts all in the same second. Runs wild with the possibility that Steve means what Billy hopes he does.

Heather and Robin. Robin and Heather.

Steve and Billy could be like that, someday. 

Steve pokes at his chest. “You know what I mean, Bills?”

Billy says, “Yeah,” so smart that Steve nods and chews on his lower lip until it gets swollen like a summer strawberry. 

Billy’s heart thumps, jumping its own battery.

He loves this boy.

Fuck, has he loved this boy for years--

Billy fiddles with two silky strands of Steve’s hair. Tries to braid two pieces of hair together and fails miserably. Steve almost purrs, rolling his head against Billy’s thigh until his crown grazes Billy’s very interested dick.

And Billy’s used to sporting a half-chub around Steve. It’s not so bad, anymore. It was a lot harder to deal with before he learned about tucking his cockhead into the waistband of his jeans but now, on the couch in his lazy sweats, smoking pot in their brand new very adult apartment when Steve could’ve easily moved into a place of his own now that they’re out of college--

“Heather gets what she wants,” Steve says. In awe.

Billy thinks about turtles without a shell, shriveled and dying, to make his dick calm down.

“Yeah,” Billy mumbles, “She’s the princess.” 

“Thought I was the princess?” Steve wiggles on the couch until Billy can feel his warm, schnapps-y breath against his belly. His eyes are big and wet and if Billy didn’t know any better he’d think Steve was a second from bursting into tears and that.

Does nothing to help Billy’s situation.

“Hey,” Billy says, keeping Steve down, “You’re my princes. THE princess, right? The Queen.”

“The King,” Steve says, smug.

“That Brat,” Billy tells him. He tugs on Steve’s hair and the sound he makes goes right to Billy’s dick. 

And.

Suddenly they’re two seconds from Billy stabbing up through Steve’s skull, throbbing and wet--

“Sorry,” Steve says, smacking a hand over his mouth, “When I’m drunk I get--”

“--It’s alright--”

“--Shit, sorry,” Steve tries to sit up, cheeks red, but Billy holds him down with a gentle, firm hand. 

“It’s alright, Steve,” Billy says. He’s pitching a tent and if Steve sits up right now-- “We’ve been roommates since we were eighteen years old.”

“We’re only twenty-two--”

“Yeah, and I’ve had a front-row seat to four New Years Eves, three big breakups, that semester you were worried about telling your parents you were switching from business to early childhood ed--”

“--My God--”

“I’m just sayin’ your star quality wore off pretty quick.” And turned into a bone-aching, heart-stopping, knee-trembling Disney Prince Level of Heartthrob pheromone that Steve spews like a rogue sprinkler. 

Billy’s kind of obsessed with it. With Steve.

Billy sinks lower on the cushion, thighs spreading so Steve’s gotta shuffle away. “What’s Robin setting you up for? Summer camp instructor at the Y, or something?”

“That’d be so cool, actually.”

Billy smirks, “Working with kids?”

“Yeah, teaching them about the recorded history of macaroni art, catching fireflies, going to the pool--”

“You’re insane.”

Steve blinks, eyes big and hurt. “Why, because I love kids?”

“Well. Yeah?” Billy deadpans, tugging on Steve’s earlobe. “It’s okay to love kids a normal amount but when you spend nine months out of the year teaching the brats to read while they cover the walls in Sharpie so you lose your deposit--”

Steve giggles and Billy tries not to preen like a fucking exotic bird. 

“--Why the fuck would you sign up to spend your two and a half months of PTO with more kids?”

“I’m not spending my summer vacation as a YMCA camp counselor, Billy.”

“Nice,” Billy says, “Because if you were I was gonna say that dusting off that same tired art circle lesson plan for the next unassuming group of brats is probably the first sign of insanity--”

Steve smacks Billy’s stomach, settling in with his bare feet propped on the arm of the couch. “You’re the Wicked Bitch of the Midwest.” He determines. Like he likes it.

Loves it.

“How’d you know what my lesson plans look like?” Steve peers up at him, smile soft and eyes warm like the center of a chocolate cupcake fresh from the oven.

Billy grins back, running his fingers through Steve’s hair until all the softness in his eyes melts away, “If it’s not a classroom of 14 strangers what’s left for Robin to set you up with?”

“A date,” Steve says.

And.

Billy must turn to dust on the spot. His face probably cracks like the surface of a mirror, his fingers ground to the bone so he can feel the rattling timbre of Steve’s heartbeat as he waits to see what’s going to happen.

“Say something,” Steve insists. Like he knows what that news means to Billy, and. He’s hoping it isn’t true.

Billy breathes deeply through his nose, but it feels like his airways have closed like summer roads, little red signs cluing construction. 

Steve sits up, Billy’s fingers slipping from his hair. He smooths it back into place. It’s wild. It pops up again like a spring-loaded toy. Like a jack in the box. 

Billy says, “Who’s the lucky guy,” flat and fragile because his windpipe is being crushed under the weight of unshed emotion.

Steve doesn’t hear it. His face hardens. “I dunno who he is,” Steve says, “That’s the point of a setup--”

“--you didn’t say it was a blind date, how am I supposed to know--”

“--it doesn’t fucking matter, alright?” Steve swings his feet to the floor, elbows to knees so Billy can’t see his face, only the angry red vein that thumbs blood through his neck to his brain. “I thought. I thought I would tell you--”

“And what?” Billy demands.

Steve turns, eyes like a summer storm. Muddy and swamped. He’s breathing like he just ran a race. Lost the gold. “I thought i would tell you about the date, and. I thought you were gonna say something.” 

Billy sits, frozen and terrified, “Steve--”

Steve gets up. He grabs his keys from the bowl on the coffee table, tugs his shoes on by the front door, and slams out of the house.

--

Billy doesn’t know why he couldn’t say it.

Anything. 

So he drinks. He drinks and watches the door and tries to figure out what he’ll say when, someday, it opens and Steve is there cloaked in sunlight.

--

Really, it’s Robin’s fault so he calls Heather, clutching a bottle of whiskey by the neck to keep himself in his place against the wall by the telephone.

Robin answers. “Hello?” She says. And she’s high. Billy knows she’s high because they went to college together.

“Put Feather on,” He demands because if he has to listen to Robin’s voice he’ll stick his head in the oven and end it all.

“Are you drunk?”

“Are you a bitch?”

“God, you’re such an asshole--” Robin starts, but someone yanks the phone away. 

“Billy baby,” Heather says, and Billy tries to not immediately burst into tears at the sound of her voice, scratchy from smoking too much.

He fails. 

In the background, someone’s grumbling under their breath. Someone else is shushing them. 

Steve is at Heather and Robins because. Of course he is, and. Billy doesn’t want to intrude but they’re his lesbians too, alright? They’re all friends. Best friends. Billy has just as much a right to run to their safety as Steve does, and--

“Billy, what’s wrong?” Heather asks. For once in her life she sounds worried. Tired.

Billy wants to tell her everything. 

He’s in love.

Steve wants Billy to be in love with him, and Billy is in love with him but he couldn’t say it and now--

“Do you want me to come over?”

Billy thumps his forehead against the wall. “Feather May, ‘M drunk.”

Heather pulls away from the receiver to whisper something at Steve and Robin. Distantly, he imagines all tree of them crowding around the telephone, anxious to hear what he’s going to say like this is the 1940s and Billy’s the President of The World, making a speech that will really change things, and not.

This. Whatever he is right now.

Pathetic. Smarmy little sack of shit--

“You’re not a sack of shit, Bills,” Heather says, shushing him. “You’re just scared, that’s all--”

“Makes me a sack ah shit, Heath.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Someone’s mumbling again. It sounds like Steve. 

Steve, when he’s at the breakfast table reading the paper to himself quietly. Steve, his head tilted close to a museum plaque at that shitty little pioneer museum in the valley, reading to Billy because Billy was too stubborn to do it himself. Steve, whispering into the receiver in the middle of the night, every night, when he was studying abroad during their last semester of junior year--

“Is,” Billy tries, as the room trips over itself. “Is Steve there?” 

He is. Heather doesn’t have to tell him. Steve is everywhere, written in the sky and on diner tops and scrawled like graffiti over stop signs.

“Yeah,” Heather says. Solemn.

And Billy’s never heard his witch bitch sound solemn before so he starts sniffling again, worried that this means Steve’s never gonna come home because Billy’s afraid. 

“Can he hear me?”

“Yeah,” Heather says, and. 

Billy pushes away from the wall. Wants to stand on his own two feet for this. “I don’t want you to go on a blind date, Steve. Or a set up, or. Whatever. Because I want to watch T.V. with you. And we just signed our brand new lease, like, yesterday and we haven’t even unpacked yet and I thought I could make pancakes. We could fight over who gets the biggest room, or we could move into the biggest room together, like--”

“--Billy--”

“Not in twin beds. Not like those couples from the 1960s but like. Lovers. We could make it our home, and you could read the paper to me out loud on Sunday’s, and I could brush your hair because your hair is so soft, Steve. I want a pillow and a sweater and a blanket made of your hair, I want--”

“--Billy, stop--”

“I want to live inside you. Forever. In this house, inside of you, beside you, on top of you, I want. You. I love you.” Billy says, from the floor. 

He sat down.

Somewhere in the middle of that he sat down, and the floor is nice. Steve should be here with him.

"I can move out,” He says. Like. Problem solved, and. The line goes silent, everyone holding their breath, so Billy takes another swig from the bottle and clarifies, heart breaking, “I don’t want Steve to go away.”

No one says anything. 

Billy tries not to cry, again. 

Fails.

“I don’t want him to never come home,” Billy says, wrapping himself in the phone cord, somehow. “If he won’t come home because I’m here, I’ll go. I’ll go pack a bag right now, but. I’ll make sure it’s perfect for him. I’ll make sure it’s home. I’ll make some bread and put the coffee on and I’ll clean the kitchen before I disappear, I’ll--”

“I love you,” Steve says.

Steve.

Stevestevesteve--

There’s snot running down Billy’s nose. It’s disgusting. 

“I’m not leaving,” Steve says, sounding. Way more sober than Billy’s ever been in his entire life. Like he’s studied Billy, he’s mapped the path, he knows what he wants--

“I’m never leaving you,” Steve tells him, voice soft like feather down. “No matter what.”

Billy lifts his whiskey bottle to find that it’s empty. “Steve, I’m drunk.”

On the other end of the line, Steve hums. Billy knows he’s chewing on his thumb nail, deep in thought like he gets when it’s late and Billy’s a burning forest needing something cool to hang onto.

Billy leans against the wall. 

When he was a kid he used to imagine what he could’ve done differently. How many times he could’ve done differently, and.

It starts with his mom. 

He tried. She never listened, but Steve does. Billy wipes his eyes with the back of his hand and says, “Can you come home, now,”

And Steve says, “I’ve already got my shoes on.”

[beanghostprincess]

Hi!

I just read a very funny fic 'Much ado about nothing' by Fire_lily and Violet_20 on AO3 and I was wondering... how do you think Sanji (and by the other guys) would behave when the girls are on their periods?

Okay, yeah, it was really funny. I often think about this, honestly, ngl. And you know how much I tend to write because I'm a menace to society, so I'll try to keep it brief. Btw, assume all the guys here are cis men (which hurts, because I'd rather die than say Usopp, Luffy and Zoro have dicks. But okay. Let's say they do) and that Nami is the only one in her period (because I think Robin is trans and also she has been dealing with pain so much on her own that even if she had her period, the crew wouldn't even notice. Nami, Franky, Jinbe, and Brook would be the only ones knowing).

Chopper is the one explaining what a period is, by the way, because these idiots know the basics but not much and I think they could use some health classes? Like, seriously, it'd be nice.

Luffy: Doesn't understand what the fuck is a period (Makino explained it. His ass didn't listen). If Nami is bleeding, can't Chopper cure her? Oh, he can't? Is she sick? Is she going to die? No? She's fine, then? But she needs them to give her a break because even if she isn't sick, she's still not going through the best time. It's uncomfortable and she feels bad and sensitive. I think Luffy would have a lot of questions and he would ask shamelessly about them. And he would also try to be considerate and share his food with Nami and cause less trouble. I know he's chaotic but he's always really nice when a crewmate is in pain, and if Nami (his navigator. His Nami!!!) is feeling bad, he'll do whatever he can to help her. If she has cramps he'll probably stay beside her and sleep with her and cuddle. He's actually worried sick even if she tells him she's fine.

Zoro: He doesn't really give a fuck. Kuina explained what periods were to him and how unfair it was and he agreed. It is unfair. It is fucked up. They shouldn't go through that. He respects Nami a lot for being able to work and yell and live normally while she's bleeding and cramping (I mean, that's HIS normal state, but Nami isn't like him). So he just supports her from a distance and if she needs anything he'll just try to help and that's it. He's like?? He's normal about it. Just a thing the body does. Everyone thinks it's such a big deal, but it's not.

Usopp: He grew up with Kaya. I don't need to say anything else. He's always complaining about Nami being louder than usual or oversensitive and saying that she doesn't need to blame them for being in pain, but he only says it because they're best friends, lmao. "Girl, I know you're in pain but it's not my fault. Chill. Do you want a chocolate bar?" and he's pretty much the only one allowed to keep her company when she's stressed and too angry to deal with the others. Bestie privileges. He knows how to make her happy. The perks of having a childhood sweetheart and taking care of her when she was on her period (she was just emotional, though, not like Nami who is a ticking time bomb depending on the month). He always has pads, pills, and distractions ready for Nami. He's just there and normal about it and helping her out.

Sanji: Fucking dramatic. I can't stand him. I'm gonna throw bricks at him. I love him, but he's either the most respectful gentleman on earth or the weirdest guy ever about this. He's probably both at the same time. He's SO annoying, oh my god. He keeps wanting to do everything for Nami, and okay, the food, tea, and extra snacks are fine. But it's just too much. He's the one crying all the time like "WHY DID GOD CURSE OUR MELLORINES WITH SUCH PAIN?????????? OH NAMI-SWAN IF I COULD TAKE YOUR SUFFERING I WOULD!!!!!! YOU ARE SO BRAVE FOR THIS!!!!!" and Usopp is the one actually throwing stuff at him and kicking him out of the girl's room when he comes to bring some snacks and won't shut up. He's,, Overly helpful. He has good intentions, really, but Nami is just on her period. She can still move and do her own things, thank you very much. I think he learns to be more normal about it with time, though. And he's just this way with Nami, probably (I say this bc I'm writing a Sanuso fic with Trans Usopp on his period and I swear Sanji is normal about it).

Chopper: I mean. It's the doctor. He keeps an eye on Nami and takes care of her. He's gentle and always tries to bring her painkillers if it's too much. Reminds her to drink a lot of water and eat properly but never too much because she could get sick! He's the cutest, gentlest thing ever.

Franky: Another dramatic man. He's just like Sanji, except that instead of crying because Nami has to go through this, he keeps saying she's SUPEERRRRR COOL AND STRONG FOR DEALING WITH THIS. But it's only for a few seconds and then he's just acting like a dad. Which includes helping if needed but then asking the weirdest questions to see if Nami is alright.

Brook: He would be the sweetest thing ever. But also, we gotta admit that he's still a perv and would ask to see Nami's underwear anyway. But leaving that aside, yeah, he's sweet. He offers tea and gentle music while she works and tries to be a gentleman. He makes a few jokes here and there, Nami hits him, the usual stuff. But he's a sweet grandpa so he's just there being nice. But, y'know, Brook is always nice to be around. He just offers his help more and often asks Nami if she's feeling okay.

Jinbe: He doesn't quite understand what he's supposed to do, but he just doesn't get in Nami's way if she's mad, and if she's sensitive he'll try to make the crew shut up for a while. Gentle older man. He always tries to make peace around the place, but pretty much like Brook and he also tries not to overstep. He asks Zoro if he should be doing something, and Zoro just shrugs and says to let Nami do her own thing.

[ficjoelispunk]

Ch 13 - Go back to sleep

You can find all the chapters available here.

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A/N: Hey guys, here’s one more chapter. Unfortunately this one is not revised too, so like always, possibly at the time of the translation some grammatical error may have happened. I apologize in advance. I hope you like it. ❤️

Here is a teaser of the chapter.

There was a time when the people defended Pablo. And that Pablo used the people in his favor. They called him Robin Hood. Well... After he blew up children. The people decided to change their mind.

The bomb had shocked even its most loyal followers. People saw Pablo in a different way now.

Los Pepes placed ads in all the newspapers.

"Entrega a Pablo, o muere."

Blackie went to visit the hotel where Pablo's family was being kept safe by the federal police, at Pablo's request. Big mistake.

Do you know when you start to lose, and you have the feeling that you will lose forever? I bet Pablo was feeling that way now.

You received a fax from Bogotá. And it almost fell back. Unable to hide your excitement.

You ran to the table of his two beloved agents.

"Get ready, let's go to Bogotá"

Peña and Murphy looked at each other. And they didn't move a muscle.

"Move!"

"I take a risk, asking: why?" Murphy said mocking.

You close your eyes.

"They arrested Nelson Hernandez"

You turned around walking, thinking they were following you. But they remained seated.

"Jesus!" You were incredulous.

"What the fuck is Nelson Hernandez?" Murphy asked. Holding back not to laugh "do you know Nelson Hernandez?" He asked Peña.

Javier arched his lips. And he shook his head.

You walked to their desk. You leaned your arms to lean over them.

“What about…" you pretended to think by taking a break "Blackie?"

Javier's eyes stared, staring at his partner in front of you, Murphy straightened up in the chair.

"No way" he said.

You threw the fax paper on their desk.

"I'm waiting for your good will"

Now they walked almost like your shadow behind you.

It was good news for you. Bad news for Pablo. And it was just getting started.

Pablo also lost Miami to the Cali Cartel and they didn't even have to pull the trigger. After negotiating with the sicario responsible for the administration of Pablo's trafficking and fortune in Miami, after being introduced to everyone who needed it. They ended up with him. And with Pablo's money. They hit Escobar.

There were still buzzes about Pablo's possible surrender. But you worked ignoring what the politicians were doing in the backstage for possible re-elections.

***

You took the first flight to Bogotá.

You and Javier were like this, breathing the same oxygen. But pretending you weren't on the same planet. By the way, you were pretending. Because Javier might not talk to you. But he orbited over you.

What before you didn't see with him avoiding you. Now he made a point of being seen. To remind you. Remember that he was there. And if you wanted to, he would be even more.

The distance you were trying to impose was imaginary. Javier was on the same square meter as you. Torturing you. Looking at you as if you were the only thing he needed to see. It was painful, both for you and for him.

It was visible his regret at having agreed to continue with this partnership with Don Berna and Los Pepes. And as much as he tried to convince himself that he did it just to protect you, he knew he was lying to himself. After Carrillo's death, he would do anything if it left him close to capturing Escobar, involving your safety or not.

And you knew that. You knew that Javier's character was doubtful. Did you know he would use illegal means if he had the chance. How many times has he tried to deceive you in every possible way to be one step ahead of the bureaucracy.

How many times after you started this crazy way of getting involved he pretended not to see you. Totally ignoring your presence. Focused on work enough, being selfish enough to go over you if necessary. Playing with your feelings, being stupid with you to keep your distance from him, in the moments you needed the most.

Or, better... How many times during that time that you were away, you saw him with some other woman in the department. You saw an exchange of glances. You even saw someone leaving some room while fixing the lipstick in her mouth, and fixing the skirt, and a few moments later, Javier left the same room. The lid overflowed when one night, you returned to the department and saw with your own eyes Javier kissing the blonde girl from the policing department. Jesus... throwing your heart to the dogs was healthier than that.

That's how Javier worried, and said he cared about you. Getting involved with other women in front of you, as if you were hollow inside, without feelings like him. Or, working for those guys who had already kidnapped you.

It was frustrating. Fucking painful. Your chest hurt every time you had to witness scenes like this. Your brain was combusting. Your thought gave a knot. Javier was like that, he was always like that. He wouldn't change. He didn't care about anything or anyone. And he knew. He knew you were there, even though pretending not, you was waiting for him. So stupid.

Your intelligence and morals were fighting with your emotional. Your body was struggling with your brain. And you were always knocked out. The only thing that left you outside Javier Peña's limits was work, which kept your emotional and mental busy enough.

On the flight to Bogotá, Javier and Steve were sitting facing each other. And you sitting next to Steve, which meant that Javier was looking directly at you, as if his life depended on it.

You frantically moved the papers as if your life depended on it. Feeling Peña's eyes on you, struggling not to imagine what was going on in his head. Every time you walked away from him it seemed like you were more closer. And every time you tried to forget it, you remembered even more.

You was fucked.

Peña and Murphy entered the testimonial room, you stood behind the glass, watching.

"You can't do shit to me"

Javier smiled. One of the few times you've seen this genuine image. That's what he loved to do, cause terror in people, specifically criminals. Sometimes on you. But more in criminals.

"El Greiff me ofreció amnistía"

"Es verdad," Javier confirmed.

It was another kind of torture to hear Javier talk in Spanish. The accent. The tone of voice.

You slapped it on the forehead, to get back to focusing on what you should.

Javier continued.

"Pero para eso necesitas hablar"

Javier kept instigating Blackie, while you were looking for more information in the files and records so that you could give the agents some exchange currency. Something that pressured Blackie.

And you did it.

You knocked on the door. Javier left. He was the one who was interrogating Blackie because he spoke Spanish and Murphy not so well. But you hoped it was Murphy who had opened the door.

"I found out something"

Javier nodded. You didn't look at him. Just for the papers. Seeing only Javier's biceps almost blowing up his shirt, with his arms crossed in front of his body.

"The expertise has arrived. They found gunpowder in Blackie's hands and jacket. It was him. He who implanted the bombs"

You handed him the papers. Javier analyzed the information.

It was amazing how Javier admired you. Nothing was beaten by you. He and Murphy would never have thought of anything like that. They were much more objective. You were a detailer. He loved your details.

Like today, you were wearing a black dress that he could perfectly tear from your body right now, pressing you against the wall, while kissing your soft and warm mouth.

You stayed long enough in each other's presence.

"Do you want to tell him?" Javier asks.

You pull the air through your mouth, hesitantly.

"Nop" you whispered, turning your heels to the opposite side of Javier, towards your place in the living room, behind the glass.

"Thank you" he said long, watching you walk.

You waved your hand without looking at him.

Javier returned to the interrogation room.

"Blackie, Blackie, Blackie..." Javier sat in front of the sicario "found explosives debris in your hands, in your jacket, everywhere..."

There was a tangible silence in the room.

"They're going to blame you for the death of all those people. Of all those kids. Don't let them blame you, help us, we can help you too"

Blackie was distressed.

"Entregar a Pablo"

He shook his head, whining.

"De ninguna manera, no puedo entregar a Pablo" he was pressured, panting, afraid "No voy a entregar al patrón por nada"

Javier advanced in his direction, speaking like a growl.

"Then give us something else. Something big. Something worth it"

"Voy a entregar..." he hesitated "Voy a entregar La Quica"

That was it. La Quica was Pablo's right-hand man. If you were with him, you could have access to a lot of things.

The way back to Medellin was in the same style as the trip. Javier staring at you, as if he desperately needed you to give just one sign. Let you waver for a second.

You put your hands on your face. The fingers massaging the temples. Tired. It was exhausting walking on eggs. Exhausting. Especially when you wanted the eggs to break, and smear you.

Even more now, you were desperate for them to capture Pablo, and forget anything they could use against you and Javier Peña.

"Are you tired?" Javier murmured.

Murphy was in doubt if Javier was talking to him or to you.

You looked at him.

"Nop"

"So you're worried?"

You bite your lips.

"No. I'm fine, thank you."

A climate has set in. Murphy wanted to throw himself off the plane if it was possible, but instead, he decided to relax.

"You did an excellent job today"

You stared at him.

"You always do" he added.

Javier smiled.

"Thank you, Agent Murphy"

-

When you arrived in Medellin, you explained to the agents a new means of intercepting calls, which you were preparing together with Edward, which maybe they could finally implement today, since you were in possession of Blackie's phone. And you could use it to track La Quica along with the help of Centra Spike.

But instead of flying over Medellin, the van with the radio signal capture apparatus, would walk the streets of the region that Centra Spike tracked.

"So, we have to drive around Medellin, and hope it works out?" Colonel Martinez was a little skeptical.

"What do you suggest? It's our best chance. She's right, it's a good idea" Javier defended you.

"And do we have to hope La Quica uses the phone?"

"He's going to use it, because we're going to call him from Blackie's phone" Javier was more incisive.

"Ok. And who can show up when we find him?"

That was an excellent question.

Javier looked at you. And he shrugged the Colonel.

"Only us"

"Ok. Trujillo, prepare the emergency team. You need to be ready when we receive the signal"

"Yes, Mr. Colonel"

-

You caught Javier staring at Trujillo suspiciously. And then following him to the men's bathroom.

It's him. You heard, who the other informant was. Trujillo. Would he be able to kill you if he had the opportunity? You wouldn't know how to answer.

Javier went to make sure that this time, Trujillo did not pass any information to Los Pepes. That had to be just between them.

"You did a good job with Blackie"

"I need to know if you called anyone" Peña asked.

Trujillo shook his head.

"I just want to get this Escobar son of a bitch, it's the only thing I want, and end it once and for all"

Peña nodded.

"I know, but not with them"

-

In all the years of work, you were always so focused that there was no space for anything else. But when there was, well, it worked out.

But now, you could say that you had made a friend. Edward was a very polite and kind man, very intelligent, spoke Spanish, Italian, Portuguese, and was very respectful. You were always together, since the eavesdropping was your responsibility, and you spent much of the time in his room, to collect the information and send it to Bogotá.

On any given day, you talked friendly, he realized that you were overwhelmed, and took the liberty of inviting you for a drink. As friends. And it was really like friends, he was deeply interested in a policewoman. So, you accepted.

You were finishing organizing and checking all the strategies of the next operation involving La Quica. Passing on the information and checking the data, so that everything went as it should. Just your table with the light illuminating the entire sector, in silence, alone, as always.

You checked the requests and requirements at least 5 times. You organized the paperwork. And leaned over the table. Running your hand over your face while sighing heavily. Overloaded. Edward's invitation fell at a good time. He should already be in the marked place, you were just creating courage and building your sociability, to find him.

"Are you okay?"

You jumped on the chair. Javier leaning against the wall of the corridor.

"Jesus, you need to stop doing this..." your hands checked your heartbeat.

Javier smiled.

"Sorry"

You shook your head, and raised your hand to him, as a sign of peace.

You reached the lamp on your table, turning off the light, and looking at it.

"Do you need something? I was already going..."

"No" he leaned away from the wall to come towards of you, laying his eyes on your clothes "Actually I thought, I won't be able to sleep, so, if you're here yet, probably not either, I thought, if you wouldn't like to have a drink"

"I already have an appointment, so…" you cut it.

Javier frowned, paralyzed. Studying you.

"A date?" His voice has changed. And he ran his eyes through your body. Looking at you from top to bottom.

Well, it wasn't a "date" but he didn't need to know that. Right?

"Yes" you put your things together, putting them in the bag in front of you, in a desperate attempt not to have to look at Javier.

"With who?" Javier walked towards you "you don't know anyone from this department"

"Actually, I know everyone"

"Yeah, but..."

"What? Am I not pretty enough for someone to ask me out?"

"You are. God! You are… But you are very busy working all the time"

Your body has stiffened. You weren't very good at lying. Even more about this, for a federal agent, for Javier Peña. You just shook your head.

"Is it here from the base? Do I know him? It’s an officer?" Javier was already in front of your desk, he seemed nervous.

You took a deep breath.

"So many questions, but unfortunately none of the answers are your business" you put your bag on your shoulder.

Javier smiled maliciously.

"It's a lie"

You frowned.

"Why?" You looked at yourself "is there anything wrong with me?"

Javier breaks his smile. Looking at you seriously.

You were a beautiful woman. But it was his beautiful woman.

"That's not what I said"

You went around the table passing by him.

"Well, then, good night, I'm late"

He took a long step, holding your arm, the distance from you was minimal now. Javier's colony flooded your senses. You looked at him, ready to fight.

"I told you that you are not safe outside the base"

"He can protect me"

"So he's an officer? Look... these guys are not..."

"Javier, do you want to let me go?"

"You can't trust anyone"

"Yeah, like how I trusted you? I understood Javier, I learned the lesson, trust me"

Javier locked his jaw.

"Don't do this to me" Javier's eyes were in such an honest supplication, his breath panting, "please" he whispered. The eyes going down to your mouth.

"Do what?" You looked at where he was holding you, Javier was slowly releasing the grip.

He tilted his head. The dark eyes on you.

"He won't be as good for you as I am"

You pull the air simulating a shortness of breath.

"What is it?" Javier holds your arms worried.

“I can’t breathe, there’s no room in your ego”

Javier makes a face for you discredited.

"Right, I have to go, good night, Agent Peña"

And you left. Javier kept looking at you. The fists closed next to the body. He was being taken by a kind of feeling that he doesn't know how to describe. His blood could have the same temperature as a volcanic lava.

When Javier realized, he was following you. At first he just wanted to know where you were. In the second moment he just wanted to make sure you were safe. Now he just wants to know who are the guy.

You entered the pub, looking for your friend. It was full of people. Music. Noise of conversations, laughter. People dancing. There was a world, a life going on, outside the base of that battalion. How dull life was between four walls.

You saw Edward, sitting on the bar counter, he waved to you. You walked to him.

"Hey! I thought you wouldn't come," he hugged you, smiling.

You returned the hug.

"I would never refuse the opportunity to drink to get away from work, but get here and only speak about work"

He laughed.

"Okay, stay here, I'll go to the barman to get us a drink, I think it will be faster, are you okay alone?"

"Yes, of course, take your time" you smiled.

You don't know exactly how long you've been waiting, but you may think it hadn't been 5 minutes since Edward had gotten into the middle of people.

"Edward? Really?" Peña's voice on your back made you shiver.

You turned to him. His eyes were dark as if he were about to explode.

"What are you doing here? Did you follow me?"

"Are you very stupid, acting like that, leaving the battalion, putting yourself at risk, because of this guy? Edward?"

You frowned.

"Did you come here to have a crisis of jealousy?"

Was Javier at least listening to you? Probably not.

"How long have you been going out? What does he have? Have you ever had sex?"

Javier's words hit you like a punch. Your lips separated in shock.

"Javier" you said.

"Is he better than me? He knows you like to be fucked..."

You slapped Javier in the face.

"Shut up! Shut the fuck up. First of all, he respects me! Something you never did. Secondly, you have no right to come here and tell me absolutely nothing, when you fuck every single woman who looks at you inside that department, in front of me, I have to see you fuck each of the women who work in that place, and now do you think you have the right to come here and treat me like a bitch?"

Javier keeps looking at you stunned, taken by an anger you've never seen.

"You are a liar, you looked into my eyes and said that I meant something to you, I now understood the meaning, property..."

"Hey! Javier, what's up man, I didn't expect to meet you here" Edward is between the two of you now, serving you a shot of whiskey, you reach "thank you for keeping my girl safe" he winks at you.

You could swear that Javier would break Edward's happy face at any time.

You turn your whiskey glass at once.

"Wow, that's strong, you know that, right?" Edward speaks after seeing you turn the glass.

You smile forced. Feeling the burning of the drink in your throat, falling and spreading through your stomach.

"Yeah, too bad he's already leaving, it's not really Peña" you say.

"Really? Why don't you..."

Javier turns his back on you and just walks around in the middle of people.

Edward looks at you confused.

"Is he always temperamental like that? Strange guy..." you talk and turn to sit on the bench next to the counter.

You had some drinks. But not enough to get drunk. Anyway, it was a quiet thing. Fun. You were just friends. Good friends.

And when you were silent, looking at nothing, Edward asked about Javier, he wanted to emphasize how much Javier was involved in your searches when you were kidnapped, but you didn't talk.

So you went back to the base. Each one for their own accommodation.

You were light. And maybe a little drunk. But nothing serious. It was good to have left, and saw a world going on outside, all you did was hunt Pablo Escobar. It was good to know that there was still something else.

You were taking off your shoes when you heard someone knocking on your door. You ran, you thought it could be Edward, which was strange, but who knows.

You opened a shot in the door.

It was Javier.

You were going to close immediately. But he pushed the door, making you go back, while he entered your room.

"What are you doing?" You asked scared or horrified, whatever.

Javier walked through your room, opening the bathroom door, as if looking for something.

"Is he here? Where is he?"

"He who?"

"Edward!" He screamed.

You were paralyzed looking at him. Skeptic. You passed your hands through your face.

"You get out, Javier."

Javier seemed out of his mind. The breath gasping. He fixed his hair.

Your eyes began to water, your chest hurt, your breathing was panting too.

"Don't do this to me" Javier murmured, again, as if it were a last request, "please, I can't lose you"

"Lose me? Javier..." you shake your head in disbelief.

"You're leaving here, you're the easiest target in Medellin, for God's sake, you can't risk it that way, you're important to me"

"Jesus, you don't get tired. You're a lying machine. You make me sick Javier, you make me feel miserable..."

"How can you say that?"

"Where should I start? Well, let's finish with the latest, I'll save our time. Are you coming here, telling me you care about me?! How? How do you care about me? Because I don't see you caring about me. Your mouth says one thing and your attitudes say something completely different..."

"Please..."

"You tell me that, while you're fucking half the department. You don't care about me. You care about yourself. You're only here because you thought you could lose me. Because while I'm sitting behind my desk, you don't give a damn about me. Mainly, and when I can watch you leave rooms with lipstick marks on your face. You won't let me heal from you. You always hurt me, again and again... Yeah, so please Peña, get out of my way"

He walked quietly slowly to you, staring at you.

You put your hand on his chest to establish a distance. He held your fist.

"I'm sorry," he murmured.

You snorted a smile.

"I'm tired of this Javier, I'm losing my mind..."

You felt his heart beating hard in your hand.

"Please Javi..." you shook your head.

He let go of your fist, and leaned one of his hands on the back of your neck, bringing you to his chest, snuggling you in a gentle hug, his nose on the top of your head.

"This is the fucking hell... it's..." you sighed" "so hard" your voice was a sigh.

Your face stuck to the warmth of his chest. Your cold stomach, floating like butterflies. His hands caressing the back of your neck.

"I know cariño, I know..." his lips brushed the skin of your forehead, you felt his hot breath "it's torturous to see you and not having you, I just know how to want you" he kissed the top of your head "I don't know what you did to me"

"Stop lying to me," you murmured.

"I'm not lying, these other women... are nothing to me. It's for you that I'm here now, don't you realize?"

"You have a horrible way of saying things..."

You two were panting. Your eyes closed. The two drowned in the smell of each other. Javier was a sea and you were shipwrecked.

Javier kissed your temple, his fingers intertwined in your hair. The hand on your spine.

"Just, let me..." he pulled the air "let me love you"

You frowned all over your face. In pain. As if someone stuck a knife in your heart.

What was he talking about?

"Javi" you swallowed in dry "you're completely insane, that's not love, that's not going to work, we need to focus on something else, we can't solve everything with sex, when we're needy..."

He smiles softly.

"We don't need to fucked"

You walk away looking at him.

"You are a liar"

"That would be a waste, because we are really very good at it, but I can just keep you that way..." he pulled you for a hug again.

You shook your head, smiling.

"We are not good for each other"

"Just for tonight, I promise, I'll behave, you calm me down and I really need it," he hesitated, "I need you"

He tilted his head, studying your eyes.

You move away from it, enough so that your bodies are far from each other, to clear your mind. Crossing your arms around you.

"I'm tired Javi, I'm always available for you, I always end up giving in..."

"It's not a problem to do what you want, I'm the idiot of the story"

"I'm not like that, I don't know how to spend the night with someone and then pretend that nothing happened, we should never have started this in the first place..."

"We're just not together because you didn't want to"

"Yeah, because you fucked everything . You omitted information from me, started working for the guy who kidnapped me, got involved with me knowing that your shit would slip on me, you have sex with any woman who breathes next to you..." you put your hands on your face, tilting your head back "and then, what do you want me to think? That you like me?"

Javier had one hand on his waist and the other on his face, running his fingers over his eyes. He was silent. Without looking at you. You were right. He knew it. But the desire for you was something he couldn't avoid. Javier wanted you. He tried to stay away, but you know him, he does everything wrong.

"When this started I didn't think that..."

"Yeah, you don't think Javier, you only think about yourself, it's always been like that"

He advanced to you. Holding the side of your arms firmly. Leaning to stay at eye level.

"You're right, I know you are. I fuck everything up. But who would have imagined that I would feel this way about you? How would I imagine that you were not just a wish that I would have momentarily? This is new to me, okay? I've never felt like this before with anyone. Do you understand? I don't know what to do..." Javier was serious and in a tone below what he used to talk to you, bordering on nervousness, as if he were telling you a secret. "Do you want me to stop going out with these women? I'm stoping. But you'll have to break up with Edward."

You laughed.

"What?" Javier asked. Studying your eyes.

"Nothing"

"I'm serious, I don't know what to do when it's something related to you, you're different, I feel different next to you, but you didn't want me, and I understand, I really understand, but..."

Your heartbeat started to become irregular.

He continued.

"I'm exactly what everyone says, but with you I'm a different guy, you make me different, I want to be different to you. I won't let you just go out there to meet another guy when it was with me that you should be" his handshake was stronger now.

You needed time to process Javier's words. But he didn't give you a moment of breath. Your breathing was panting. Javier so close to you, looking like there was nothing else but you.

Javier snaked through your jaw reaching your ear. You leaned your head against his shoulder.

That was a disease.

"No one will touch you like me" he whispered, your body shivered with the hoarse and hot voice in your ear "No one will hold your body while you are in another dimension with me inside you" you breathed through your mouth, closing your eyes, Javier went down to your neck, his hands going down your back pulling you to his body, "Even an idiot like me knows that this is not on the first corner..."

Your arms going up rolled to his shoulder, your hands intertwined in his hair.

"Let me stay here tonight, we don't need to do anything if you don't want to" Javier moved your hair away from your shoulder "I just want to be with you"

"You are very persistent Agent Peña" you murmured on the skin of his cheek, your lips on his skin.

"Only with you"

So that was it. Once again you were giving in to Javier Peña. Difficult, isn't it?

If you were in hell, why not hug the owner of the establishment?!

Javier was watching your room while you took a shower, the photo with your father on the bedside table, your books on political science, sociology, and fiction.

Javier heard the bathroom door open and turned to see you, you were wearing a white sweater, the fabric falling slightly down your breasts, the nipples stiffened by the change in temperature, going down your waist and hip, stopping a little below the curve of your ass. How he wanted to be the satin of your sweater. Javier's cock twisted inside his jeans.

"You're beautiful" he said.

You dried your hair on the towel. You smiled. It was like the sky. You were so soft under his touch. The way you looked at him, how you moaned at him. How you approached him. He would easily border on obsession. He should have said no the first time. But how? You were something he always wanted. Unreachable. And the first time he had the opportunity, he could never say no to your sweet lips in front of him.

You walked to the bed, pulling the sheet.

"Come here" you whispered as you crawled on the bed.

"Are you doing this on purpose?" He asked, kneeling behind you "you know that if you want, just ask"

You smile and roll your eyes, as you sit on your heels, unbuttoning his shirt. Undoing the belt.

Every touch of your fingers on Javier's skin sends a hot shock to his body. The desire making him dizzy. He was already hard.

"This is going to be more difficult than I even imagined" he murmured, his eyes loving you. Your hair falling on your shoulders.

You seemed to have fun. Your hands sliding the fabric of his shirt through his arms. Then you pulled his hand so that he would lie on the pillows.

Javier ran his arm behind your neck, fixing your hair with his hands. You laid your head on his chest. The leg on his thigh. His hand stuck your knee on him. Your hands caressed his belly gently.

"I like it," he kissed your forehead.

Javier ran his fingers through your hair.

"Mhmm"

You stayed like this for a while, he caressed your leg over him, passing his fingers gently to where the fabric of your clothes covered your skin. You fell asleep like that.

Javier woke up at dawn with you turning your back on him, fitting your ass over his jeans.

Javier's hand went down your abdomen, his lips reaching your ear.

"Cariño?" He said softly "Cariño, are you awake?" He pulled your hair, kissing your shoulder.

"Mhmmm" you twisted in it. Awakening with his voice sending chills down your spine to your feet. Half asleep, half awake.

Your legs squeezed each other looking for a friction, still not knowing if he was dreaming or if he was awake.

Javier felt you press against him, your legs squeezing.

"Do you need help?"

Javier's hands go up your breast, running his fingers through your nipple. The palm of his hand covering your breast, he feels your heart beating, proof that he was not dreaming. You moan.

You throw your head back by touching his chest.

"Javi" your hoarse voice of sleep, needy.

Javi lowered his hand down your waist, lifting the hem of your sweater by your hip. He makes the contour of your ass, pulling you closer to him.

Your hand goes up his face, holding the back of his neck, while he kisses your shoulder.

Javi's hand traveled slowly through your body, absorbing the sensation of your skin, of your body in it, under the touch of his hands. Your skin is as soft as the skin of your sweater. The face sunk into your neck getting drunk with your smell.

You started moving your body in his, Javi was hard, moaned in your ear when you pressed yourself on him. Your had already woken you up like this before, but now it was different. He was calm, long, patient, wanting to take advantage of the moment.

Javier's fingers plunged into your panties, you folded your leg up, so that he had access to you, he smiled softly at your neck.

Javier hadn't even touched your right clit, and you were already shaking in his hand.

"You're sensitive" your pussy squeezing around nothing, needy, longing for him, Javier pressed his finger on your nerves moving in circles "keet your leg like this for me, that's all you need to do, babe"

With his treatment on your clit, you arched your back on his chest, causing you to be more pressed against his cock, while sliding his fingers on you. Going down to your entrance, circling, and returning to your clitoris. You chased his hand.

You moaned, your mouth opening, your breathing failing, your face frowning with pleasure.

It didn't take long for you to whine his name while your body trembled shocks of pleasure over Javi's hand.

"Feeling better, cariño?" He kisses your shoulder, running his lips through your naked shoulder.

You nodded.

Your hands were groping Javi's pants to take the jeans off his body. But he held your wrist. Staking your lips.

"No need babe, it's just for you" he pulls your hand, kissing your fingers "go back to sleep..."

"No, but..."

Javier winds you around his arms, pulling you closer to him, if that was possible.

"It’s okay babe, go back to sleep..." he runs his fingers through your hair.

You were too numb and sleepy to argue.

You fall asleep.

TAG: @harriedandharassed

[hippiegoth97]

Last Christmas: An Eddie Munson x Reader Holiday Story Pt. 2

Description: You and the gang play White Elephant, opening and stealing one another's gifts. You end up with a present you least expect, and share a dance with friends. When you and Eddie take a turn on the dance floor, things get a little too close for comfort. Can you and Eddie salvage your relationship, or are you too far gone?

Warnings: swearing, female reader, drug use, alcohol use, angst, heartbreak, crying, light smut mention, fluff

Last Christmas Pt. 2

A crowded room, friends with tired eyes...

Eddie's POV

You watch silently as Y/N walks towards the rear of Harrington's humble home with Robin and Argyle to have a little smoke session. Usually you'd join them, since you're quite the stoner yourself. But you can see you're far from welcome, she wants absolutely nothing to do with you. Her words earlier, no feelings at all, ring in your head over and over. "You good, Munson?" Steve asks once the trio slide the glass door shut behind them.

"Not really. But that doesn't really matter, does it?" You say bitterly, taking a swig of your eggnog. Usually you hate the stuff, but you've been steadily consuming it to keep yourself in one piece. Seeing Y/N again feels just as awful as the day she left and never came back.

"Don't say that, man. Of course it does." Jonathan pipes up, flashing you an apologetic look. You just shrug in response, unsure of what else to say. You really wish you weren't having this conversation at all. Clearly you have no chance of getting Y/N back, so what's the point of rehashing the same old shit?

"Even so, do you guys really wanna hear about my extinct love life for the millionth time? It's Christmas, there's supposed to be music and presents and all that holly jolly crap. Maybe I should go, I don't wanna bring you guys down all night." You start getting up to leave, but everyone quickly protests. You sigh, plopping back down into your chair. You know for a fact they'd sooner tie you down than let you walk out that door. There's more of them than there are of you, and Steve is ridiculously strong. "Fine! I'll stay! But can we drop it? Please? I'm hangin' on by a thread as it is." You sniffle, exhaling sharply as tears prick your tired eyes.

"Eddie, we really think you need to have a talk with Y/N." Dustin says, looking away from the claymation elves singing about making toys to speak to you seriously.

You just shake your head, the thought of that alone makes you want to off yourself. "Nah, man. She wants nothin' to do with me. And I don't blame her." Your voice trembles slightly. Goddammit, here come the waterworks.

"I wouldn't be too sure about that, dude. Robin told me Y/N still sleeps in your old t-shirt. She used to sniff it for the scent of you when she thought Robin wasn't looking. She cried for hours when it didn't smell like you anymore. And she hums your guys' song all the time without realizing it, "Beast of Burden", right?" Your eyes widen at Steve telling you this. The possibility that Y/N doesn't completely hate you blows your mind. Since the day she walked out the door, she's never contacted you again. She had Robin pick up any of her stuff still at your place, exchanging it for the things you left with her. The only thing missing was that beat-up Mötley Crüe t-shirt, you figured you'd lost it while you were drunk or something.

"Either way, I don't think she's in the mood to talk. I don't wanna hurt her again." You really don't get why everyone seems to have planned this ambush tonight. No doubt Robin and Argyle are working their mojo on Y/N to convince her to speak with you. You'd love it if she did, but you can see it now. She's letting them have an earful, telling them to mind their own fucking business. She's so damn stubborn, it's one of the million things you love about her. Loved, you mentally correct yourself.

"But you're both sitting here like goddamn ticking time bombs. Any minute, you're bound to explode. Unless you resolve this. We're not saying you'd necessarily get back together, but it would be good for both of you to work towards being able to tolerate sitting in the same room." Nancy takes her turn now, and you just roll your eyes.

"You guys really can't let this go, can you? Why do you care so much about mine and Y/N's relationship anyways?" You finish the rest of your drink, setting the empty glass on the floor. You cross your arms in frustration, waiting for this stupid talk to be over.

"No, we can't let it go. Because you and Y/N are our friends, and we love you. And we've had to sit and watch you both be in pain for months. And none of us can make that hurt go away, only you guys can do that." Mike says, hoping you understand how hard it's been for everyone to watch you and Y/N suffer.

You sigh, dragging your palms down your face. Partially in aggravation, and partially to wipe your tears away. "Fuck! Fine! But I'm not gonna force it. If she won't talk, I'm gonna let her be. Fair enough?"

The group nods in agreement, murmuring various 'yes's and 'okay's as they finally drop the subject. "I'm gonna go get the others from outside. I'd say now's as good a time as ever to start the game." Max says, standing up from her cozying up to Lucas. She walks to the door, sliding it open before shouting into the cold. "Hey, potheads! Hurry up, it's time for presents!"

Y/N POV

"Alright, who wants to pick the first gift?" Jonathan asks, taking on the task of supervising this little game. Nobody volunteers, when Robin speaks up.

"How about we have Y/N go first?" She smiles at you, trying to get you in the spirit of things. You roll your eyes, she's incorrigible sometimes.

"Uh, sure. Step on up, Y/N." Jonathan says awkwardly. You take a deep breath, standing up slowly as the weed has finally decided to kick in. You walk over to the tree, looking over the plentiful pile of presents wrapped in shiny paper. You pick up a smaller one, leaving the larger gifts for the others. You return to your seat to open it, tearing the paper to reveal a jar of soaking salts.

"Ooh! These'll make bathtime very relaxing!" You say cheerily, showing everyone what you got. You actually really like this present, long hot baths are one of your favorite ways to relieve stress. Everyone murmurs in agreement, and Robin goes next. She gets a matching hat and glove set, which looks very cozy. Next is Argyle, who opens up a box of fancy chocolates.

"Sweet! I've got major munchies, man!" Argyle says, opening the box and taking one of the sweets out of its wrapper before popping it into his mouth.

"Well, safe to say that gift is out of play now." Jonathan shakes his head, his poor friend clearly doesn't understand the rules. Nobody seems to mind though, it's just chocolate. Next to pick a present is Nancy, who decides to steal your bath salts. You stand up to open another present, which turns out to be a Magic 8 Ball. You're less enthused about this item, but you figure one of the kiddos will take it off your hands at some point.

"Okay, my turn!" Steve says while rubbing his hands together. He picks up a gift bag, pulling a pack of warm socks from under the tissue paper. "Wow, just what I wanted." He says sarcastically, wondering if his parents secretly put a gift of their own in the bunch before leaving town.

"I will happily take those off your hands, Stevie." Eddie says, holding out his hands for Steve to toss him the socks. He catches them with ease, placing them in his lap. Your eyes meet again, and he instinctively gives you a small smile. You return it out of reflex, before realizing who you're looking at. You quickly frown instead, turning away to see what Steve reveals this time. It's a D&D starter set.

"Dammit." Steve mutters, cursing his inability to pick one of the better presents. Next up is Will, taking a chance with a larger box. He tears the paper away, revealing a portable radio.

"Nice!" Will says, very pleased with this find. Jonathan and the rest of the kids take their turns, most opting to open a brand new gift as opposed to stealing someone else's. The next six gifts are a Stephen King novel, the Star Wars trilogy on VHS, a Santa Claus mug with hot cocoa mix, a sketchbook, a knitted blanket, and a Walkman. Max steals the D&D set from Steve, deciding to give the game a try since the boys love it so much. Steve gets to pick for a third time, and he ends up with a thick, cozy scarf.

"Now this I can live with." Steve says, smirking as he’s got something he actually wants. Erica is last, taking your 8 Ball for herself. She claims she'll use it to make any and all further decisions for the foreseeable future. This leaves you empty handed once again, and there's only one gift left beneath the tree. Jonathan hands it to you, and everyone watches in anticipation to see what's inside.

You tear open the paper, pulling the lid off the flimsy box beneath. And inside, is a Santa hat. With devil horns glued onto it. Just like Eddie's. Leave it to you to end up with the gift that your ex-boyfriend brought. The room goes completely silent, and you don't know what to say. Your eyes dart across the room to him again, and he tries his hardest to silently apologize. You can feel the others watching you two, waiting to see what happens next. You look away, inspecting the hat for a moment. You rub your fingers over the fuzzy material, smiling slightly at the hand-stitched letters that spell 'SATAN' on the white brim. "You can trade with me if you want, Y/N." Robin offers, extending her gift to you.

"No, it's fine! It's a cute hat, cheeky." You giggle genuinely, it really plays into the sense of humor you and Eddie used to share. You wanna be a good sport, and not hurt his feelings. You pick up the hat, settling it on top of your head with a big smile on your face. It's very warm, but comfortable. You imagine you look a little silly, but you don't mind it one bit.

"Alright then, looks like the game is over. Anyone need a refill?" Jonathan asks, and every adult's hand goes up into the air. You may have graciously accepted your present, but the tension in the room has only gotten worse. You and Eddie keep looking at each other curiously, but avert your gaze when either of you get caught staring. "Yeah, sounds about right." Jonathan sighs, gathering everyone's glasses to head into the kitchen.

"You really don't mind it?" Eddie asks as the others move on to other activities. The kiddos open Max's D&D box, showing her how to build a character and how the game works. Nancy gets up to put on some music, picking out a Rolling Stones album from Steve's extensive collection. Some Girls, to be exact.

"Not at all, Eds. You know I love shit like this." You reply, realizing you just used his nickname. Maybe you don't need that refill after all. His eyes widen when he realizes what you said, hoping this means you'll talk to him...and maybe take him back. "Don't get any ideas, Munson. I'll get back together with you when hell freezes over." You quip, not meaning it in a hurtful way whatsoever.

"Well, we are in Hawkins in the middle of winter. I'd say that's pretty close." He retorts, making you laugh. It's been so long since he's done that, and you can't help missing it. Jonathan returns with the drinks, and you decide to throw caution to the wind and keep drinking. You're feeling warm and fuzzy inside, despite the perfect storm brewing between you and Eddie. You put it aside for the time being, focusing on enjoying the night with your friends. All your friends.

For the first time in what feels like forever, the group as a whole is able to fall back into the familiar groove you used to share. There's no more worried glances, awkward silences, or talks about your past relationship. Everyone's joking, laughing, and having a great fuckin' time. You have a dance with a few members of your little band of misfits. Steve, Robin, even Dustin. You can't stop smiling, downing a steady stream of eggnog the whole way to keep yourself merry and bright.

You're having a rather uncoordinated turn with Argyle, when the record begins to play a tune you haven't heard in an eternity. "Beast of Burden", the song you and Eddie once claimed as yours. You stop moving, noticing him walking over to you. He's taking his shot, hoping this is enough. "Mind if I cut in?" You look at him, finding his impossibly large brown eyes gazing at you expectantly. He gives you a kind smile, holding out his ringed hand.

"Fuck it! I'm pretty wasted. And everyone else has had a turn. Why not?" You reply with a hiccuping giggle. You take his hand, letting him pull you into his space. He clasps your fingers together, his other hand going to the small of your back. You put yours on his shoulder, sharing an awkward look as Mick Jagger begins to sing.

I'll never be your beast of burden. My back is broad, but it's a-hurtin'. All I want is for you to make love to me. The opening lines remind you of the first time you heard this song with Eddie. It was late one night, in the fall if you recall it correctly. You'd gone on a long drive all over town, not caring about the final destination as there wasn't really one in mind. The radio played real low, and you smoked cigarette after cigarette while staring out the window at the full moon while Eddie drove. Conversation was light, the two of you in comfortable bliss. And then the opening riff spilled forth from the worn stereo speakers in his van, prompting him to turn the volume up. "Shit, this is one of my favorites." You remember him saying, smiling at you to see if you also recognized it. You hadn't heard it before, but you listened closely to the words.

I'll never be your beast of burden. I've walked for miles, my feet are hurtin'. All I want is for you to make love to me. Eddie sang along with Mick, in perfect key at that. It was far from the first time you'd heard his deep, sultry tone. He is in a metal band, after all. But nevertheless, he enchanted you time and time again. And this particular evening from the recesses of your memory was no different. You watched his lips open and close in various shapes to form the lyrics, his face dimly lit by every passing street lamp. This dashboard performance in particular felt different from the others. He was tenderly asking you for something. To love him forever, to have him as yours the same as he wanted to keep you for his own.

You gladly granted the request, your heart soaring across the universe at the thought of never letting Eddie go. When the song was reaching its end, you had ended up at the edge of Lover's Lake. The maddening man in the sky reflected upon the still, black waters. Stars twinkled overhead, it was the most beautiful night. Eddie killed the ignition, inviting you to the back of the van like he'd done so many times before. You followed him like a moth to a flame, letting him lay you down on the mismatched blankets splayed about the floor. You made the sweetest love you'd ever had, sealing your promise that you thought would never be broken.

The two of you sway to the music, slowly rotating in a cautious waltz. You do your best to loosen up, bringing yourself a bit closer. Eddie's had a considerable amount to drink too, playfully crooning the lyrics of the song to you. Just like the old days. "Am I hard enough? Am I rough enough? Am I rich enough? I'm not too blind to see." Your smile grows wider at him singing for you, you used to love it when he did this. His voice is gorgeous, and he made you feel like the most special person in the world when he'd serenade you with your favorite songs.

The others pretend not to stare as they make their own pairings to dance. You ignore their approving glances and nods. It's like everyone else disappears, leaving only you and Eddie in the room anymore. Your movements are more fluid now, facilitated by the weed and alcohol. You let Eddie lean down to softly sing the repeating 'pretty, pretty girl' part of the song in your ear. His chest is flush against yours, and it's almost as if you've never been apart. You want so badly to just smash the walls down, and let him back in. Nostalgia and longing wash over you, tempting you to take what you've been wanting since the day you walked away.

He pulls back a moment, meeting your hazy eyes. You can see loud and clear that he still loves you, and he can tell you're mirroring the sentiment back at him. You can feel his heart pounding in his chest, the pace staying in sync with yours. Your mouths are dangerously close together, and your breath fans in each other's faces. The sickly sweet scent of rum and sugar cookies wafts between you. He tries to make a move to kiss you, and you almost lean into it. But when you really look at him, you can't help remembering how you two ended in the first place.

You drop his hand and push him away, a single tear falling from your eye. "I-I can't." You choke out the words, frantically looking at everyone staring at you.

"Y/N-" Eddie takes a step forward, reaching for your arm.

"Don't!" You back up again while shaking your head, turning away to leave the room. You push past Nancy and Jonathan, and you begin to sob uncontrollably. You make a break for the stairs, your heels thumping as you bound up each step.

"Go after her, you idiot!" Steve yells to Eddie, and you try to find a place to hide. It's too much, you can't just pretend he didn't break your heart into a million pieces. You can't act like everything's okay now, because it isn't. You hear another set of shoes coming up from the ground floor, just as you run into Steve's parents' room. You slam the door and click the lock, leaning against the wood while your chest heaves.

"Y/N?" You hear Eddie's voice from the other side. Why can't he just leave you alone?

"Go away, Eddie. I can't do this." You say through your tears, pulling the Santa hat from your head. You don't want to wear it anymore. You toss it across the room, refusing to look at it again. You slide down to the floor, your knees tented in front of you. Your head falls in your hands, tears and saliva soaking through your dress.

"Y/N, please? I just wanna talk." You can hear the pain in his voice, and you fucking hate it. You hear him shuffling to sit on the other side of the door, his own stifled cries spilling out. His hand brushes the finished wood, wishing he could feel you through it. "Baby, please. I-" He begs.

"Don't call me that! You lost the right to use that name a long time ago." You shout, turning around to face the solid barrier between you.

"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. Just...I don't wanna be like this anymore." His voice trembles, he's just as shaken to the core as you are.

"I don't either, Eddie. But what else is there? You ended us, when I thought you'd never do that."

"I know. And I'm a fucking idiot." Eddie replies through clenched teeth, he's so frustrated with himself for making such a dumb decision.

"Well, at least you admit it." You can't help cracking this small joke, making both of you laugh on either side of the door. Even though you can't see each other, you know exactly how the other's face and body language looks with every passing word.

"Steve said you still sleep in my shirt. Is that true?" He asks, unable to rein in his curiosity. You gasp at the question, Robin must've said something to him.

"Yes." You say softly, not wanting to admit it. "But only because it's comfortable." You try to make up an excuse, but you already know he doesn't believe you. "Robin said you were really messed up after I left. Is that true too?" You figure you might as well get some confirmation of your own while you're trapped in here.

"Shit, yeah. I don't think I had a sober moment for at least two weeks after you left. It was awful. But I couldn't stand to keep being reminded of you at every turn." Eddie recalls how those drunken, drug-addled days played out. He woke up late, head pounding from the night before. He'd crack open another beer, and smoke a blunt or two before breakfast. All he could manage to eat during that time was Honeycomb cereal and Poptarts. Not to say those stayed in his stomach long, far from it.

By lunchtime he'd be face-first in the porcelain throne, rejecting every last bit of sugary snacks and booze. And the cycle would continue. More alcohol, toss some cocaine in the mix, another joint, or a few. Reefer Rick even threatened to cut off his supply if he didn't stop consuming all the product. He had to work twice as hard to recoup the cost of the illicit substances. And all that did was further remind him of how he lost you.

"Jesus, Eddie. I'm sorry." You can't help feeling bad when you hear the words from his own lips. A secondhand story doesn't have nearly the same impact.

"Not your fault. I did this, remember?" This is absolutely killing you, you can't stand the sullen tone in his voice. It makes you want to unlock the door, to allow him back where he clearly belongs. But that's not enough. You can't put the past behind you and give it a second try so easily. Especially when he could just as easily break your heart again, deeming himself unworthy of you. Just like last time.

"Why did you? We had a good thing, didn't we?" You really want to understand why he made that decision all those months ago. He technically gave you a reason, but was that really enough to end a relationship?

"Of course we did, Y/N. It was the best thing I've ever had in my entire life." Eddie says, complete and total regret working its way through his body. It cuts like a knife, deep and jagged. More tears spring from his eyes, tapping wetly as they land on the hardwood floor below him. His heart aches for you more than he ever thought possible. You're so close, and yet you're a million miles away. If he wanted to act selfishly, he'd smash this damn door to pieces and scoop you into his arms. But he won't, because it's not what you want. And that's the only thing that has ever mattered to him.

"Then why?" You hoarsely croak out the words. You're fighting to swallow a wedge in your throat, it's grating and bitter. Like a lump of coal scraping your esophagus. You press your hand against the door, laying your head beside it. You want to be closer to him in this silly, small way.

"Well, it's like I said before. I didn't feel like I was enough for you. You were starting college soon, and I know you're gonna be something great." Eddie smiles slightly at that thought. You have big dreams of saving the world, changing it for the better. He'd listen to you talk for hours about cleaning up the oceans or regulating big corporations that over-pollute. Seeing your eyes light up when you cared about something made him even more helplessly in love with you. "Whereas, I'm gonna be stuck flipping burgers or fixing cars my whole life. Would you really wanna spend your days with someone like that?"

"I told you before, I didn't care about that. I just wanted to be with you. What you did for a job or how much money you had was always a non-factor for me. People do those things their whole lives, and there's nothing wrong with that." You reassure him, speaking sincerely. Just because others may look down upon those who work in 'unskilled' jobs, that doesn't make them worthless.

"But how could I provide for you when I make shit pay like that? You deserve someone who can take care of you, Y/N." You really have no idea why Eddie insists on this idea that he has to be the big spender in the relationship. It's oddly old-fashioned for someone like him.

"Eddie, did I ever say I wanted you to be the 'provider' in our relationship? You know better than anyone I don't subscribe to medieval ideals like that." You don't mean to come off so harsh, but it's a bit annoying that he seems to ignore this rather fundamental thing about you. "Plus, you provided plenty. You were kind, sweet, and loving. You comforted me in my weakest moments, and we made so many meaningful memories together."

"I know, you're right. The more I say it out loud, the stupider it sounds." He chuckles dryly, shaking his head. But there's something else, something he's kept close to the chest this whole time. You can sense the hesitation in his voice, the little hitch in his breath when he forces his tongue to hold back.

"What is it, Eddie? Please, tell me." You ask quietly, wanting to know what he's been hiding.

"I was afraid you'd outgrow me. You'd slowly earn your degree, make new friends. Then you'd no doubt go wherever the planet needs you, and where would that leave me? You'd see how big and beautiful the world is, and being with me would pale in comparison. And then you'd leave, finding a foxy marine biologist instead or something. Then you'd win some kinda Nobel Prize or some shit, and I'd still be here in Hawkins. With nothing to show for it." He realizes how silly he sounds now, how he's spent so long fantasizing about you leaving him behind.

"Thought about that a lot, did you?" You ask, unable to hide the smirk in your voice. You understand his fears, you'd probably have them too if the roles were reversed.

"Every goddamn day, Y/N." He chuckles again, but he sounds far from happy about it. Your face falls, there must be a way for him to see that his anxieties held no water.

"You do realize I would've taken you with me, right? If your hypotheticals ever came to be, I mean." You speak matter-of-factly.

"Really?" Eddie still doesn't understand, does he? Just as he claims to love you to the ends of the earth and back, you feel just as strongly. If not moreso.

"Yes, you big idiot!" You exclaim, grabbing his attention. "I would've had you by my side every step of the way. We would've moved in together while I went to school. Then after graduation you'd come with me to wherever I was interning at, until I’d eventually lead the charge in some world-saving research. And then you'd be right there in the audience while I accept my 'Nobel Prize or some shit', dressed in a cute tux and everything. And then we'd go home to our house, and our pets or plants or whatever." Eddie's eyes widen at your words, he never imagined that you would actually want to spend the rest of your life with him. Him, the metalhead, freak, loser, asshole that deals drugs.

"Thought about that a lot, did you?" He parrots your previous statement at you, drawing light laughs from both of your mouths.

"Every goddamn day, Eds." Another copied comment, and another slip of his nickname. You're headed for trouble if you don't knock it off.

"Fuck, I wish more than anything I could take it back, Y/N." Eddie says, desperately wanting this conversation to end in reconciliation. He wants you, no, needs you in his life. You're like the sun in the sky, the air in his lungs, the ground beneath his feet, the blood in his veins. You are everything to him.

"So do I." You reply simply, the tears have been steadily pouring from your eyes this whole time. As is the case with Eddie, you suspect.

"Would it be so terrible to try again? I miss you so much, it's killing me." There it is. That oh, so dangerous question. You've been simultaneously dreading it and wishing for it all night. How easy it would be to accept him back into your heart, to reignite the burning flame of love you used to share.

"I miss you too, more than you know. But I don't want to get hurt again. I can't go through the hell you put me in a second time." You sniffle, unable to stop yourself from remembering the endless sob-fest you had at Robin's for the first few days after your breakup.

"I promise, I will never let you go again. I'll never be so fucking stupid." He pleads, yanking at your heartstrings.

"But how do I know for sure, Eddie? I was under the impression that the first time would never come, and it did. Who's to say you won't break us to pieces again when things get tough?" As much as you'd love to be together again, you have valid reservations about the prospect.

He doesn't say anything else for a minute, carefully considering what you've said. He feels so fucking awful for hurting you, and he wants to prove himself worthy of a second chance. "What if we move in together?" He blurts out, as it's the first step in your little fantasy about the future.

You scoff, he can't be serious. "Eddie, you don't have to jump the gun like that."

"I'm serious. I wanna be with you, commit to a life with you. What better way to do that than to get a place together? We could look after New Year's if you want. I think there's a place by-" His tone is frantic now, eager to sell you on the idea.

"Eddie, slow down!" You shout, interrupting his babbling. He shuts his trap, his teeth clacking at the force. "Look, it's really sweet of you to offer. But I think we would need time to get reacquainted first, to see if this would even work again." He perks up at your words, hoping this means you're saying yes to him.

"I'm sorry, you're right. But, does that mean we can give this another shot?" He asks expectantly, crossing his fingers and praying to whatever God is up there that you'll take him back.

You sigh, shaking your head as you giggle at the thought. "I can't believe I'm actually saying this. But yes, we can try again, Eds." You say as you stand up, clicking the lock to open the door. Eddie falls forward into the room, almost smacking his head on the floor. You shriek in surprise, and he bounces back up in no time. He scrambles to his feet, his eyes meeting yours for the first time in what feels like hours. He laughs awkwardly, blushing hard as he rubs the back of his neck. You giggle in reply, rolling your eyes at his clumsiness.

You move closer to him, wrapping your arms around his neck while his go around your waist. You're standing in the threshold of the room, looking up to see some mistletoe hanging right above your heads. "Well, would ya look at that? Seems like the Harringtons have the right idea." Eddie says, returning his gaze to yours. The air between you is different now. It's no longer somber and heartbroken, but filled with unbridled joy and a dash of booze-fueled lust.

"That they do." You reply, just barely above a whisper. You can't stop staring at each other's lips, the familiar scent of Christmas treats dizzying your heads in your proximity. Eddie's just about to bring his lips to yours, when-

To be continued...

[therealbeachfox]

Hi, I have another ask about stuff in TCAK series!

I'm so fascinated by all the bits and pieces that you drop about Con's past and Gotham in general. We of course have all the reddit stories in part one, like all the times people thought Con was dead, but there's a whole bunch of things that are referenced but not fully explained. Off the top of my head: however Con ended up with Caleb (something about ending up trapped in a demon worshippers basement?); posing as a kidnapping victim; a bunch of things listed at the very beginning of TCAK Meets the Second Robin. How do you come up with all of those and how do you keep it all straight? And, selfishly I want to know, are we going to get backstories or will they remain mysteries?

Also this section from TCAK Meets Matches Malone which was so evocative that I am dying to know how you came up with it.

This wasn’t an uncommon experience for Gothamites.             It was rarely openly acknowledged, never actually discussed, but everyone had the experience. The way that the world would seem to unmoor itself and slip an inch or two to the side as you stood there, looking down an alleyway that you knew had never been there before, the shadows in it deeper and darker than they should be. Or listened to the intermingled thrumming warbles of pigeons and calling of crows and hearing the shapes of words behind the noise. Or looking at graffiti and seeing the hints of riddles that hadn’t been asked yet beneath the chaos. Strange shapes that’d lurk on rooftops that weren’t Bats. Voices from sewer grates, faded and green-stained copper plaques on the sides of buildings that’d never been there before and would never be there again. Looking through a gap between buildings and for an instant seeing a skyline you’d never seen before. Gotham was filled with the unexplained. It was built from mysteries.

Thank you!!

Alright, let's take this in sections!

Part I: Untold Stories

I really need to figure out a way to rewrite the opening to TCAK Meets Robin because enough people've been confused that I was obviously unclear.

Basically, everything mentioned (Chained in some demon-worshiper's basement, standing on top of Wayne Tower, getting held at lasergun-point, the ice-covered skyscraper, the reality-rending) are all future events (laid out in more or less chronological order) that will be happening down the line. All points in the future where Conrad's going to be going "How the FUCK did this become my life? ...Oh right, when I found out that Boss was Robin."

When I was half-way through Reddit Posts, I decided that yes, I was absolutely going to try and make a huge thing of this, and sat down to at least try and sketch out a plot-arc to follow. Which is where all the future events came from. And so far, I've managed to stick to it pretty well. The plot-beats have just managed to expand on me despite my best efforts. :)

Plot beat 2: Some-asshole w/ magical artifact attacks Red Hood's shit. Conrad beats down. Matches should be there, why not (Con thinks Matches = Batman?) *good place to have Con "die" onscreen

Basically, anything that shows up as a passing reference or Noodle Incident is something I have a fuller version of in my head, the details just aren't important at the time. A number of things will probably only stay references just because showing them onscreen would really harsh the vibe (the details of Bianca's Joker-Gas bombing and the aftermath, the shelter fire Conrad survived at 17) but I keep them in mind in case there ever does come a good point to include them and to guide how I portray Conrad.

Don't know if how Conrad and Caleb officially met will ever get a place to slide in, but in summery: In the wake of the shelter fire, Conrad was back to living on the streets, not doing the best with his situational awareness, and gets kidnapped by the same assholes who'd grabbed Caleb and buddies from their abandoned building squat. They figured Conrad and Caleb looked enough alike that they could be rented out as "brothers", so they got put together. Once Conrad pulled himself back together (figuring this was just a week or two at most since he'd watched a bunch of his friends burn to death, so he's not at his best), he goes all Conrad at the situation which ends with whatever building they were being kept in aflame, a bunch blood everywhere, a bunch of kids back on the street, and a fully adopted little cousin to take care of.

The "Posing as a kidnap victim" was actually a whole side-digression I'd written out, but it was almost a mini-story of its own only without a point or real resolution, just 'and here's another way my parents fucking sucked but also taught me how to be utterly terrifying', so I wound up cutting it out and just left the side reference and the dream of that persona taking over his life and kicking him out. It might come up again later, or I might sit down with it and work it into an actual Side Story, but not currently.

Part II: Creepy Gotham:

I -love- urban horror/suburban creepy shit. I blame 1990s tabletop RPGs, but I keep the vibes fed with a steady diet of "Creepy /AskReddit Compilations". That specific section you quoted, however? I'll admit, I was pretty much channeling the vibe and writing style of "Unknown Armies", an utterly -fantastic- tabletop RPG that is just one of my favorite things and I find hard to describe without descending into an hour-long ramble.

Basically, a modern world with a secret occult underground of very disturbed people. Everything happens for a reason, but fuck if you're likely to ever know what that reason is. The stuff I wrote back in the day for online forums in the Unknown Armies style merged with the Gotham spooky atmosphere, the occult horror element of DCU that's gotten more prevalent since Constantine and friends became central elements, and particular future plot-points I wanted to seed hints of so you get the urge to throttle me when you re-read that section a year from now.

[antibioware]

would you do that thing where you review/rate the op movies, if that's ok? :3c

ok NOW that I'm mostly done with the One Piece movies, it's finally time to start writing this monster of a review post. I'm gonna say sorry in advance for how long this post is gonna get.

1) One Piece: The Movie -> 6/10

This movie is fine, not much to say about it. It's old enough that Sanji is not even in the crew, and it feels more like a longer than usual filler episode of the East Blue saga than anything else, but I found it very charming, it had some good gags and it smacked me upside the head with 90s anime nostalgia.

2) Clockwork Island Adventure -> 6,5/10

Just like the first movie, it's fine, nothing extraordinary and it had some kinda weird plot choices, but most of the gags and crew interactions are solid enough to make the whole experience enjoyable. Would love to see Luffy throw bombs at his friends more often in the future.

3) Chopper's Kingdom on the Island of Strange Animals -> 6/10

I know a lot of people hated this movie so I came into it expecting the worst, and instead it was a cute enough movie. Again, nothing special but all early movies suffer the curse of the One Piece world being still largely unknowable and having to make something up that makes sense within the context of this early stages. Chopper's characterization is Eh, but I think the movie was trying to see his very first interactions with the crew while still knowing little about him, and I can excuse it. I like most crew interactions and gags. This movie also features Sanji fighting a swordsman VS Zoro fighting a guy who uses kicks and I really loved it - what can I say, I'm biased, so sue me.

4) Dead End Adventure -> 9/10

THIS ONE. This is one of best One Piece movies. You want a classic yet enticing seafaring adventure? You want all the good and fun aspects of the pre-timeskip crew? Do you want an interesting side character who kinda reminds you of All emo One Piece guys? Did you, just like me, miss when Nami and Robin used to be shit to children? THIS IS THE ONE. I don't wanna say much more to not ruin it for people who have yet to watch it, but I really missed when the crew had to find a way to work around fighting Logia type Devil Fruit users, and seeing it again sealed my absolute love for this movie.

5) The Cursed Holy Sword -> 3/10

So this is another movie that I know a lot of the fanbase hates, but since the Chopper movie turned out to be okay, I wanted to give it the benefit of the doubt again. Instead, this movie just plainly sucks, and it's not because of the general plot, because of bad crew interactions, but because Zoro specifically is written like shit in here, and since the movie revolves around him, the movie is shit as well. My best way to resume this movie was "Zoro wouldn't fucking say that". Not only he drops the crew out of nowhere to follow a friend's shady request without questioning it, not only he fights Sanji and immediately wins despite their entire deal being that they're on the exact same level (also the fact that he breaks Sanji's arm got on my nerves massively), the thing that got on my nerves the most was honestly that the childhood friend was a new character and not like, some echo of Kuina, which emotionally would have made the movie have so much more sense for me.

This movie is written by a Zoro fan who doesn't get why Zoro is the great character that he is. Also the elements of mysticism in this movie are just damn weird for One Piece, but as I said for the Chopper movie, I can excuse it as it's still relatively early into the story and I can see why they thought magic would work as a plot element. It didn't.

(Still better than Stampede tho)

6) Baron Omatsuri and the Secret Island -> 10/10

This one is an insane and unsettling experience from start to finish. If you've seen it, you know what I'm talking about, if you haven't, go watch it now. I promise it's gonna be a wild fucking ride and that you're never gonna forget it for the rest of your life.

7) One Piece The Movie: The Giant Mechanical Soldier of Karakuri Castle -> 7,5/10

Was this movie objectively bad? Yeah. Was this movie also objectively good? Yeah.

I'm gonna try to elaborate: this one is purely a comedy, with sparse elements from the previous movies taken and used for parody. The tits on the girls have the worst animation you've ever seen, but it works in favour of the comedy because, voluntarily or not, it seems to parody the One Piece anime itself. I swear the animation budget on this one was like 100 yen and the concept of hope. Despite all this, it works and it's funny as fuck. Zoro gets set on fire on this one. Also, apparently Chopper's VA was on maternity leave for this one and you can barely notice it.

8) Episode of Arabasta: The Desert Princess and the Pirates /

9) Episode of Chopper Plus: Bloom in Winter, Miracle Sakura -> ??/10

They are arc recap movies, an Alabasta arc recap and an AU version of the entire Drum arc set post-Water 7 respectively, and as such, I don't intend to watch them, so I'm skipping them ✌️ if I eventually decide to give them a try, I'll come back and add them to the post.

10) One Piece Film: Strong World -> 8,5/10

A huge favourite of mine since I was a kid. This movie came out around the same time as when I read One Piece the first time and I remember loving it then and I'm happy to say I still love it as an adult. The outfits are amazing, the villains are amazing and the plot was damn good. Yes, this movie has Nami as the damsel in distress (and some really bad and gratuituous ass-tits shots of her, but nothing worse than say, the anime itself), but I really liked how it's handled and the spotlight on her character is well handled for the most. It's a "crew as family" movie first and foremost, and you can really tell Oda himself took part writing this one.

12) One Piece Film: Z -> ??/10

So I'm gonna be honest here, I haven't watched this one either and I don't intend to because Nami gets aged down to a child as a major plot point and I don't trust whoever wrote it to handle it normally. If anyone gives me a good motivation to watch it I will, but until then, I refuse to.

13) One Piece Film: Gold -> 8/10

When my girlfriend and I started watching the movies again, we were really skeptical about all post-timeskip movies, and I'm glad to say Gold proved us wrong. I love this damn movie: it's a really good experience for long time fans, but it can also be shared with friends who barely know/never got into the show. The villain is so damn compelling, and the original character (Nami's blatant ex-girlfriend) is fun and interesting.

What else can I say? It's a Las Vegas heist movie. It's flashy, it's fun, all the outfits are fucking amazing, and most importantly, Zoro is the damsel in distress in this one. I can't suggest it enough to people.

(Also Sabo makes a cameo in here by using a Firefist, and both of us for a solid second thought Ace was gonna descend from the heavens to fight instead of the most logical answer, because we're both idiots.)

14) One Piece: Stampede -> 1,5/10

Fuck this movie and fuck whoever liked it. This is nothing but fanservice garbage and I hope whoever wrote it is in jail. It exists as proof that good animation and good voice acting and a solid cast cannot make a good movie by themselves. The main villain is the most boring, uninteresting piece of trash in the universe. This movie was made just to animate cool fights for fanservice, and it didn't do even that well. I cannot believe they wasted Luffy's Gear 4: Snakeman like that, I cannot forgive wasting my favourite Luffy fight form for a moment and THEN decide to solve the movie final fight with a fucking genkidama. Fuck this movie. Didn't even have the guts to have a proper Hancock fight scene.

The only reason is gets a little more than a 1 as a rating is because having so many damn characters in the movie appear at random accidentally turned it into a fucking comedy. Towards the end I was half-ready for either Gol D. Roger's corpse or Goku to show up. Maybe even Naruto or the Jump Force. Kurapika was in this one to me.

15) One Piece Film: Red -> 7,5/10

We conclude with a good one, and a musical on top of it all. I really liked this movie, I think Uta was a well written new character and I can't deny I cried a bit towards the end of it. This movie has still a lot of fanservice, but in my opinion it's much more tasteful and tolerable, and I would be lying if the hype of every character cameo didn't get to me, especially with Brulèe and Katakuri, I have such a soft spot for the Charlotte offsprings.

Ado is a really good singer and a lot of the songs are really nice to listen to, I can't deny I currently have more than half the songs in this movie among my spotify favourites. The occasional usage of CGI is Eh, but aside from it this movie has damn good animations as well.

What this movie lacks, and it's really less of a Red specific problem and more of a general post-timeskip One Piece issue, is crew interactions. While a lot of early One Piece movies are kinda trash, it's the crew interactions that have always captured me about the story, and I'm willing to forgive even the worst plotline if it means I get to see those fucked up kids have fun and be all together. It got to a point that the amount of characters in the story takes time away from the main crew, and considering this was the first movie with Jinbei as a crewmate, it was a damn shame that this fact almost wasn't used. Still, I liked Red! I just hope the next movie that will inevitably come out is a crew-focused one, on the same wavelength as Gold. I'm kinda sick of constantly seeing Law.

[danny-chase]

@twotailednekomata​ ‘s tags

Okay so my sources in order are:

> Dick’s been a respected and esteemed leader of the Teen Titans in both Teen Titans 1966 and The New Teen Titans 1980 and The New Teen Titan 1984 series, in general his teammates like him/follow him out of respect for his strategizing skills and whatnot

> Jason dies in the A Death in the Family comic book arc (Batman 1940 #426-#429), Dick’s reaction is covered in The New Titans (1984) #55 (same series as The New Teen Titans 1984, they dropped the teen because too many of the members were like 20 by now)

> Dick fires Danny Chase at the end of The New Titans (1984) #55

> Dick visits Bruce after Jason dies, Bruce blames Dick for Jason’s death, Dick blames Bruce for Jason’s death while defending himself, and Bruce punches him all in - The New Titans (1984) #55 still

> Dick mentoring Tim is a continuous thing, Tim shows up for training in The New Titans (1984) #65 for training. Like he literally just drops in askjfjsad Dick’s apartment is a wreck and he’s not prepared at all, Tim literally just showed up. Dick mentoring Tim pretty much continues for the next like 20 years of their relationship

> Danny Chase dies in Titans Hunt, which is a pretty bad arc overall. Danny dies in The New Titans (1984) #84 over Dick’s protests

> As previously mentioned Titans Hunt sucked, Joey Wilson dies in The New Titans (1984) #83. Raven and her mother Arella die in #84

> The failed DickKory wedding is The New Titans (1984) #100. Please don’t read this arc it’s genuinely just so bad. I didn’t want to get into it for the meme-formatted post, but it does include Dick getting raped in the lead up, and a corrupted version of Raven sexually assaults Kory at the wedding

> Ah the Batman: Knightfall saga. it’s genuinely such a boring read

> The Batman: Prodigal saga my beloved. Dick takes the mantle of Batman while Bruce fucks off to who knows where, and Tim is his robin for a while! Very fun interactions and the Dick angst is on point

> I’d say Batman: Prodigal is where this turn starts to happen in Dick and Tim’s relationship + Dick and Tim’s teamups in Tim’s solo

> Dick moves to Bludhaven in Nightwing 1996, compares it to hell in the first issue

> Dick ends up liking Bludhaven as the series goes on

> Joker’s: Last Laugh #5 ends with Tim ‘dying’

> Joker’s: Last Laugh #6 Dick finds out and kills the Joker after Joker taunts him about killing Tim and Jason

> Joker’s: Last Laugh #6 Dick finds out like 3 seconds after he murdered the Joker Tim’s alive

> Joker’s: Last Laugh #6 technically i don’t know if Bruce did the CPR, it’s not shown on panel who did it, there’s a bit of fandom misconception that goes around every now and then that Bruce made Helena do it, but we don’t actually see/know who it was

> Nightwing (1996) #63 covers the fallout of Joker’s: Last Laugh #6

> His life smooths out a bit in the Nightwing (1996) solo comic and goes back to business as normal

> Donna Troy dies saving Dick’s life in Titans/Young Justice: Graduation Day #3

> Dick gets shot in the shoulder in Nightwing (1996) #80, he gets fired from his job as a police office in #82 (raucous cheering ensues)

> Haley’s Circus is burned down in Nightwing (1996) #88, with “more than 20 feared dead and over 100 seriously injured”

> Dick’s apartment complex is bombed in Nightwing (1996) #89, I took the number 22 from a panel in #91 which shows the mass gravestone, which features people like Yoska Graesinka, who was the first one to speak Romani with Dick in a very long time, Hank Hogan, Dick’s old boss from when he bartended, Michael Hogan, a kid Dick found on the streets and got Hank to foster and adopt, and John Law a retired vigilante. Also i was wrong, one of them was Dick’s fake alias so the number’s actually 21. Notably Clancy was gone at the time of the explosion and survived

> Over the issues it’s revealed Blockbuster found out Dick’s identity and everyone he’s killed has been a targeted campaign against him

> Nightwing (1996) #93 has a reporter being shot in the head for talking to Dick

> Nightwing (1996) #93 has Dick stepping aside to let Tarantula shoot Blockbuster, this comic book also comes with a rape warning which I again, didn’t want to talk about in a meme post but i feel the need to warn about when bringing up the exact source

> Ah Batman: War Games. A terrible time

> Dick gets shot in the leg partway through War Games, in Nightwing (1996) #98, he finds out about Steph dying in Nightwing (1996) #99

> Nightwing (1996) #100 ends with Dick dumping his Nightwing costume in front of Jason’s memorial case

> Nightwing (1996) #107 picks up with Dick joining the mob

> He actually has like. a decent time in the mob somehow? i mean comparably to what the last arc was like the mob arc is better for him ig

> Dick appears in the earlier issues of Under the Red Hood, mostly for Bruce to go “man i like working with Dick” in his head and not actually say that out loud

> Multiple issues cover this, but Slade Wilson chooses for the whatever of evil group to nuke Bludhaven, in his own comic it happens in #116-#117, it’s also covered in Infinite Crisis, and the end of Under the Red Hood has Bruce’s initial reaction

> Nightwing (1996) #116 ends with Dick passing out after running into the city knowing he’d die, and just being like “i’m just going to save as many people as i can before I die” implying he’s passively suicidal

> Nightwing (1996) #116 also ends with Bruce showing up, and #117 starts with Dick waking up in the cave

> As previously stated in #117 we find out he’s still alive

> At the end of Nightwing (1996) #117, Dick proposes to Barbara, it’s very rushed, likely because Devin was pretty much told to pack it up, we’re killing Dick off

> Infinite Crisis #7 has Dick jumping in front of a laser beam to save Bruce. He actually supposed to die, but fans rebelled so hard they decided not to kill him off

> Nightwing (1996) Annual #2, terrible comic, references Dick being in a coma for 3 weeks post the laser beam. It also retcons Dick to sleep with Babs when he came by to invite her to the DickKory wedding :////// it’s also like the worst source of Dick/Kory vs Dick/Babs commentary and dear god i hate it and pretend it’s not canon 

> Nightwing (1996) Annual #2 ends with Barbara rejecting the proposal so Dick can ask again when he’s not in a mental health breakdown

> The run continues. he’s still alive

I feel like people understand that Dick changed while Jason was gone, but where it goes wrong half the time is people assume that Dick "growing up" meant that Dick was irresponsible around the time he and Jason interacted/was mean and unable to conceal his jealousy well, which he then evolved from due to Jason's death and was able to build a loving big brother relationship with Tim and Damian and fix his relationship with Bruce.

Meanwhile canon is like:

>Be me, Dick Grayson, esteemed and respected leader of the Teen Titans

> Your younger brother dies

> Fire the youngest member of the Titans because it happened because you had a crisis of responsibility about child vigilantism

> Get punched by your not-official dad

> Help mentor new younger brother because you can't stop him and Bruce from the path they're on, and like hell is another kid going to die

> Kid dies. Not that one. The ex-member of the Titans died disobeying your orders and saving the world in a heroic sacrifice you didn't want him to make, this is exactly what you tried to avoid

> So did two of your friends and one of their moms

> Failed marriage, and a whole lot of relationship stuff you don't want to talk about

> Dad didn't ask you to surpass him in the roll he trained you for since you were 8, gives it to a guy who goes of the rails and starts trying to kill ppl

> Dad asks you to take the roll because he literally has 0 other options and wants to take a vacation

> Bond with younger brother II more, will kill everyone in this room and yourself if anything happens to him

> Move to a new awful city that's often compared to hell

> Having nothing to lose makes it kind of nice here

> Younger brother II gets killed by the same guy who killed younger brother I

> Kill the guy

> Younger brother II wasn't actually dead

> Dad used CPR, so neither is the guy who killed them

> Angst over not being a good enough person not to kill your brother's murderer

> Things start to become okay again

> Best friend dies

> Get shot in the shoulder and fired from your job

> Childhood home gets burned down, 20+ people die

> Apartment building blows up, 22 of your friends and acquaintances die

> Find out it's because someone was specifically targeting you

> Person dies for talking to you

> Choose to step aside and let the guy targetting you die

> Run home because dad needs help

> Get shot in the leg, while passed out another kid hero dies

> Quit being a hero

> Join the mob

> Things start to get better

> Help dad out with some case about this guy named the Red Hood

> City gets nuked because you live there

> Get radiation burns and pass out while saving people, content that you died doing something good

> Dad saved you

> You're still alive :/

> Propose to your ex-girlfriend (not the one from the last marriage)

> Crisis event happens, take a laser beam meant for your father

> Coma for 3 weeks

> She says no (for good reasons)

> You're still alive :/

~and around here is where Dick finds out Jason's alive~

Anyways Dick was not more well adjusted by the time Jason came back from the dead, his life was a constant series of L's, and he got worse 😎

[upsidedownwithsteve]

Steve Harrington x fem!reader [9k] prompts: "I almost lost you" "I fucking hate you" "I’m never leaving, promise" and "I’ve never felt this way before and I’m terrified to be honest.” A little upside down angst, some soft sex, best friends to lovers.

“God, I fucking hate you,” Steve panted, his voice pained and his words harsh but there wasn’t any heat behind it, his hands soft on you as he pulled you into the rough surface of the rock face. 

“Hey now, that’s not v’nice” you mumbled, voice fuzzy and you hissed in pain when Steve tried to gather you into his side, lifting at your sleeve, exposing the bite marks on your shoulder. 

You really didn’t understand Steve’s confusion at the sight of you appearing from the gate, waterlogged and chest heaving, ready to run for him, fight for him. You knew he’d do the same for you, for any of you. It’s why the idiot was the one to declare he was jumping over the side of the boat in the first place. 

He’d left you on the narrow bench, rocking on the surface of Lovers Lake in darkness as Robin counted the seconds he’d been submerged, sounding like a ticking time bomb as you stared into the water, willing him to surface. 

When he eventually did, you didn’t anticipate him to be ripped from your grip so quickly, so easily. You’d heard him call out your name, voice shocked, just as he swallowed water and disappeared. 

The only person that seemed so shocked you’d immediately followed him, was Steve himself. Your jacket and any logic you’d had, had been left on the floor of the boat, your only thought being the safety of your best friend. 

“Shut up,” there still wasn't any bite to his words, his eyes flashing with worry and anger, and you could feel it roll off of him in waves, his hands shaking on you. 

Robin and Nancy exchanged a look, unsure if they should be helping or not, but god they were just as scared, eyes frantic, knowing all too well what else could come out from the vines and red mist of the upside down. So they stayed at the edges of you both, shoulder to shoulder and watching the tree line for monsters and nightmares. 

Steve sucked in his bottom lip, trying to stay calm despite the situation you were all in. He felt helpless, frantic at the sight of your blood and the way your eyes were turning a little unfocused. 

Dust and grey matter floated around you all, Eddie and the girls bathed in a dull, crimson light as they stared at you both, everyone with their own injuries. Cuts littered everyone’s skin, their clothes ripped, eyes wide, chests heaving. 

“You never listen to me, you never goddamn listen to me, I told you to stay in the boat!” Steve was rambling now, voice climbing a little higher in volume as the landscape around you roared and hissed with life. 

He stared at you, wide eyed. “Why d’you gotta be so fuckin’ stubborn, huh, sweetheart?”

“It’s been four years Harrington, that shit is on you if you think if I’m gonna start listening now.” 

Your eyes were closed, hiding from the pain or your best friend’s accusatory glare, you weren’t sure, but when you heard a small snort of laughter, you knew it was Robin. You opened one eye, peeking out from your lashes and you watched the girl shake her head when you winked at her. 

Steve was decidedly less amused. He was muttering to himself, completely ignoring your smart ass cracks but he winced and frowned every time you let a whimper of pain slip out. He felt sick, stomach rolling at the sight of your injuries, hating that you were hurt, mortified that it was because of him. 

You could feel his hands on you, pressure and something stung, something seared at your skin and you tried not to think about it, tried not to think about how it was almost Steve. You felt a little sick, the image of the boy in the ground with that thing wrapped around his neck, like something out of a horror movie, your own personal nightmare. 

It didn’t matter that you were hurt. You were fine. And Steve was safe. You’d slammed the bat with a broken oar, the wood rotting and damp in your hands and it left splinters and dirt in your palms. But you’d swung it almost mindlessly, panic in your chest that burned worse than the cuts and bites, because Steve had been choking. 

He whispered your name and it sounded like a prayer, like a cry for help and you immediately sobered when you pulled your gaze away from Robin and looked back at the boy. 

The smile slipped from your face and you realised you’d been slipping down further against skull rock, eyes lazy and unseeing as you let sleep pull at you. It all felt like a bad dream, a nightmare that nipped and sliced at your skin, razor sharp teeth gnawing at your bones until they burned. 

Steve was on the ground next to you, kneeling in the rocks and dirt as he crowded into you, hands pressing material onto your upper arm that you quickly realised Nancy had ripped from her shirt. 

His movements were clumsy and he was trying so hard to be gentle, to not hurt you anymore than you already were but his chest was heaving, his brown eyes were glassy. 

Nancy hovered, placing a hand on his shoulder before whispering, “Hey, why don’t you let me help her?“

But he was shaking his head furiously, eyes set on you, on the blood that was running down your arm, soaking into your shirt and turning the cotton a dark red. He was stubborn and determined, completely unaware of the tears that were making his vision blurry because his attention was solely set on you - the fact that he could feel you warm and moving under his palms was the only thing keeping him together. 

“Steve-” you began gently, voice breaking and wavering at the sight of him. 

Dirt and blood streaked the sides of his face and neck, an angry, red welt there that you knew you would stay for a while; a horrific reminder of what you had to watch. He blinked at your voice, hands pausing, chest wrecked and finally, a tear tracked its way down his cheek, cutting through the grime and landing on his lip. 

“I told you to stay on the boat,” he said again, but this time his voice was shot, cracking, splitting, shaking and he shuddered a little when he stole a gasp of air, his forearm swiping angrily across his lips, smearing tears and blood. 

You tried to move, groaning when you shifted closer to him, just an inch - it was all you could manage - but you caught his chin in your hand, eyes wide, fingers splayed across his cheek and jaw as you rubbed circles into his skin with your thumb. 

“I’m fine,” you whispered, trying with everything in you to soothe the boy, to bring back the same sarky attitude he had with you before. “I’m okay, I’m here and I know you hate me, I was just trying to-”

“I don’t hate you,” he scoffed and Steve was shaking his head, loosening your grasp on him and rocked back on his knees, staring at you with such guilt that it ruined you. 

 “I almost lost you,” Steve’s voice had risen again, his words biting and left hanging in the air and behind the anger, the frustration you could hear what was written in his eyes, what was making his chest heave. 

Fear. 

Behind you both, Nancy, Robin and Eddie shuffled, moving a few feet away to offer you what little privacy they could afford despite the overwhelming threat of god knows what. 

The Upside Down was still breathing with you all, it had its own heartbeat, a pulse underneath your feet that served as a constant reminder that you were being watched, tracked. 

Like something was waiting. 

But suddenly, there wasn’t anything more terrifying than watching Steve break apart in front of you, face damp with dirt, blood and tears, a pretty mess that you wanted to curl into, to ask ‘please take me home, it hurts.’

You sniffed instead, swallowed a gulp of air that tasted stale and like metal and you nodded, understanding. It took you a second but you moved to your knees, pulling yourself up gingerly with your hands gripping your best friend's sides. He was swearing, alarmed and annoyed that you were exerting yourself more than you should but you could feel the way his chest heaved underneath your touch, the way the air between you both crackled and roared with panic. 

Anxiety was rolling off of the boy in waves and you wanted to do what you couldn’t do before, you wanted to grab his hand and pull him back up. Out of the water, out of the dark and into the boat. 

Safe. 

Your hands found his face again, thumbs smoothing away the tears that streaked his cheeks and lip as you swayed into him, chests bumping and he caught you, hands wide across your ribs, his palms gingerly avoiding your wounds. 

“Steve,” you whispered, trying to sound stern, trying to cut through his panic but your voice was cracking too, his emotions seeping into your own chest, squeezing at your heart, “Steve, babe, hey.”

He blinked, focusing on you, eyes roaming desperately over your features and he let out a gasp of breath that sounded like a sigh of relief and as he leant into you, forehead brushing your own, he was mumbling, voice soft and a little broken. 

“I almost lost you,” he repeated, “you should’ve stayed on the boat, I thought I fucking lost you.”

“Shh, I know, it’s okay, I know,” you soothed him, eyes frantic as you scanned his face, watching how his strong features crumpled, like he was losing the strength that was holding him together. 

“I’m here, I’m okay,” you reminded him and you moved slowly and carefully into him, hands dragging from his cheeks and into the hair at the nape of his neck as you wound your arms around him. 

It took a second or two, maybe less, before Steve let himself return the touch, strong arms wrapping around your waist and you closed your eyes at the feel of it, not at all surprised to feel your own tears slipping down your cheeks, salt on your lips. 

The pain you felt from your bites and cuts disappeared at his embrace, just for a minute. It was enough to warm you, the cold damp from the lake still sticking to your clothes and skin, but the feel of Steve safe and solid against you made you feel like everything was okay. 

Somewhere in the distance, a creature roared and the boy’s hold on you tightened. 

“You think I’m that easy to get rid of, huh?” You tried to lighten your voice, soften your tone, and you pressed the words into the soft skin of the boy's neck, your lips moving against the curve of it in an almost kiss. “Someone’s gotta stick around and watch your dumb ass, you’d never get anything done without me.”

You felt Steve let out a huff of breath, hot air falling onto your cheek as he pressed himself into you and it sounded like a laugh, like relief and sunshine and safety. 

If you closed your eyes and played make believe, you could imagine you were in Steve’s bedroom, drunk after a stupid party and holding your best friend as you fell asleep, wishing and pretending it was something more. 

“I’m okay,” you told him again, voice a little firmer and he nodded against you, his breathing stuttering as you soothed a hand over his wild hair, trailing your palm across the back of his neck. “We’re okay, I’m not leaving. Not leaving you, promise.”

The feel of his lips pressed to your temple, white hot and burning your skin, told you that he believed you. 

—————

Going back to Steve’s house was the easiest option, for all of you. The home lay empty, free of worried parents, panicked questions, calls to the police that wouldn’t make any difference. 

You sat in the back of the car, pressed between Robin and Steve, ‘cause after the kids dropped you a lifeline from Eddie's trailer, you’d watched in surprise as Steve threw his car keys to the other boy, his hand tightly intertwined with your own and no one questioned it. 

He wasn’t letting go of you and nobody was going to make him. 

Dustin, Max and Lucas were in the trunk, quiet and wide eyes searching their older friends for some signs of reassurance. Nancy was up front with Eddie, talking softly about how everyone needed a hot shower and a good sleep, answering the questions that Dustin was asking, the younger boy’s voice worried and choked. 

You leaned into Steve, your cheek on his shoulder, his head resting on yours and every now and then, he’d run his thumb over the top of your hand, reassuring you and himself, that you were both still there. 

Eddie slowed and stopped at each house, dropping off the younger of the bunch and you all watched until they disappeared into the safety of their homes, one by one, waving before the doors closed. 

You weren’t sure who decided the five of you were staying at Steve’s, it could’ve been Nancy, maybe even Robin. But Steve hummed his agreement and Robin directed the other boy to the house, impressive as it was empty. The windows were dark, the driveway clear and when you all stepped out onto the front porch, you could smell the chlorine from the backyard pool, a false sense of summer and happy memories. 

It was easy to let Steve guide you to one of the bathrooms, Nancy and Eddie peeling off on the ground floor to find a shower and food, the kitchen lit up as the smaller girl busied herself at the oven, pressing buttons until it hummed to life and she searched the freezer drawers for pizzas and chicken nuggets, potato waffles and frozen fries, a late night dinner than Dustin would have envied. 

You could smell pepperoni and the coffee machine that Steve’s mom bought but never used groaned and clicked to life, but Steve still had his hand in yours, the other on the small of your back as he led you to the en-suite off of his bedroom, as if keeping you as close as possible to the things he held dear would keep you the safest. 

It was a little hazy as he pushed open the shower door, murmuring softly about water temperatures and left to right as he tapped the dials. You could only really nod, your grip on him still tight and you briefly wondered if you were able to let him go, if he was gonna be able to walk away from you. 

But then he was turning on the water for you, spray hitting against the tray and it immediately engulfed you both in warm steam, sticking to your skin and easing some of the tension you held in your bones. 

“I’ll be right back okay?” Steve told you, voice low and gentle as if he was worried he’d scare you. “I’m just gonna get you some clean clothes.” 

You nodded again and despite what he’d just told you, you were surprised when his hand slid from your own. You felt uneasy, alone, surrounded by the mist of the hot water but Steve kept the door open and you watched him as he busied himself at his drawers, pulling out shorts and shirts, discarding them on the floor until he found one he deemed comfortable enough for you. 

Slipping back into the small bathroom, he placed the clothes on the sink top and ducked his head a little to look at you, gazes meeting. You felt far away and somewhere in the back of your head, you wondered if this is what shock felt like. The humour and sarcasm that fuelled your experience in the Upside Down had long left, sinking away with the adrenaline that kept most of the pain at bay. 

But now your arm was aching and your mind was slower, foggier; and moving felt like running through water. Catching Steve’s gaze was the only thing that seemed to ground you then, one hand catching your chin and he lifted your face to look at him, eyes searching. 

“You okay?” He whispered it, as if he was terrified to hear the answer. 

You were ready to nod again, for a third time but he caught you, fingers smoothing your hair back from your eyes and he looked at you almost pleadingly when he asked, “please, sweetheart, lemme hear you? I need to know if you’re alright, yeah?”

Your throat felt dry but you licked your lips and swallowed, hand reaching up to where he held you, fingers wrapping around his wrist as if he was the only thing that was giving you the strength to still stand. You were so tired. 

“I’m okay,” you mumbled, voice cracking a little. “Exhausted.”

Steve nodded, a humourless smile on his lips and he pressed his forehead to yours, leaning down into you as you both sought out that little slice of home within a house that didn’t feel like it belonged to either of you. 

“What ‘bout you?” Your words were pushed into his top lip, barely grazing but he felt you, warm and soft in front of him. 

“Used to it,” he grimaced, chuckling when you rolled your eyes. He turned serious when he cupped the back of your neck, somehow bringing you impossibly closer. “Just please, please don’t do that again. Not for me.”

If you’d had the energy, you would’ve argued with him all night. You would’ve shoved at the boy, angry tears in your eyes, frustration biting at your skin before pulling him back into you and telling him how loved he was, how much you needed him. How you’d jump out of any boat, how you’d follow him to the ends of the earth if he needed your help. 

But the shower was still running and the room was filled with heat and steam, making your clothes stick to your skin, the dirt and blood still caking both your bodies slick and itchy. 

You didn’t know how to tell your best friend you loved him. How you were so in love with him that it hurt, it ached. It was a push and pull on your heart that you’d felt since you were fourteen, young and too dumb to understand that the boy next door was everything you ever needed. 

So instead, you moved away from him, leaning tiredly against the wall and letting the corners of your lips lift into a smile that held just the right amounts of fight and attitude. 

Your eyes were shining and you wondered if the boy looked hard enough, that he’d find all the love that you knew was held in your gaze. 

“We’ve been making bad decisions together since 1972, Harrington. I’m not gonna stop now,” you grinned and he huffed, an almost laugh you were sure. “If you’re gonna make it a habit of throwing yourself into lakes, you better sure as hell expect me to follow.”

And that was that. 

He nodded, pointing to the towels and backing towards the door. Your heart leapt, realising he was leaving you. 

“Towels are there, just shout if you need me, yeah?” Steve caught your gaze, watching the tension in your body that had returned, the lock of your shoulders, the square of your jaw. “I’m gonna be right outside sweetheart, I’m not leaving, promise.”

If his words seemed familiar, neither of you mentioned it and the door clicked softly as it shut, leaving you alone. 

Shedding your damp, dirty clothes made you feel a little better, the material pooling at your bare feet as you stepped out of them and into the shower. The hot spray stung at your cuts, bore down on your bones and made you ache in a new way, like you were being broken down and put back together again. 

You leaned your forehead against the cool tiles, watching as the dirt and blood from your skin swirled down the drain and when you finally turned the shower off, you could hear soft voices from Steve’s room, dulled by the closed door but drawers were opening and shutting, a sure sign that the rest of your friends were freshly washed and stealing clean clothes from the boy too. 

When you opened the door, Steve’s shirt was hanging to your knees, hiding the soft cotton shorts he’d given you and the boy was sitting on the edge of his bed, face still streaked with grime and blood, the cut on his brow and lip still angry. 

“You should’ve cleaned yourself up,” you told him, frowning as you stepped into the pool of soft light that came from his bedside lamp. It lit the room up in a warm glow, a welcome change from red skies and shadows. “You must be freezing.”

“I told you I wasn’t leaving,” he shrugged, eyes searching your upper arm for your injuries, for any signs of pain or discomfort. He nodded to your shoulder, “How’s the arm?”

You shrugged back, pushing one foot into the plush carpet as you tried to avoid his heavy gaze. It made you feel too warm, like you didn’t know what to do with yourself and before you could brush him off, before you could lie and say you were fine, Steve reached out to grasp your hand, pulling you towards him. 

He steadied you in the bracket of his spread legs, his knees on either side of your thighs and he still sat tall before you, his hands making quick work of softly pulling his sleeve up until it uncovered your upper bicep. 

He tutted, eyes soft and his thumbs made gentle work of turning your arm this way and that as he inspected the wound. It was smaller now that it was clean, the filth and dried blood that had coated it making it seem worse and angrier than it was. 

It still stung, a nip and prick on your skin when the cool air hit it but Steve pressed a quick kiss to the unmarred space below, a hot push of his lips that lit your body up, skin burning, eyes wide. 

“There,” he mumbled, voice thick and if you didn’t know any better, you could’ve sworn the highs of his cheeks were turning pink. “All better.”  

And shit, maybe it was. 

You ate with the others as Steve showered, the distant sound of the running water the only thing that soothed you enough and allowed you to swallow down a slice or two of pizza, a chicken nugget that you smothered in ketchup. When Steve finally joined you all, hair clean and damp, on end from where he’d run a towel through it, he frowned at your near empty plate and slid another slice on it when you weren’t looking.  

The five of you ate in silence, crowded around the breakfast bar, barely having the strength to pull out the stools as you all picked at the food Nancy made. You were all shoulder to shoulder, dressed in Steve’s clothes, sweatpants that hung off slim hips, shirts with too short sleeves and sweaters that hung off collar bones. Everyone smelled like apple shampoo, clean like body wash and laundry detergent, but the cuts were still on everyone’s skin, red and fresh, unable to be hidden. 

And when the plates were empty, Steve batted you away from gathering them all up, planning to take them to the sink. You’d wondered if you could scrub away the blood that was still embedded under your fingernails, and fuck, you wondered who’s it was. 

But Steve caught your hand, still gentle as he led you down the hall. Robin followed you both, passing Eddie as he threw himself onto a sofa, blanket in hand and shoving cushions under his head. Nancy disappeared, searching for the phone so she could call Jonathan, her eyes heavy with sleep. 

It was easy to let Steve cajole you into the guest room and you stood tired and heavy on your own feet as the boy busied himself with pulling back the heavy duvet, launching the ridiculous amount of throw pillows to the floor. 

Robin jumped in first, a noise of content purring at the back of her throat as she slipped between the sheets, head pushed into the plush pillow and her eyes fluttering closed. 

You turned to Steve, panic settling into your chest once more at the thought of him leaving, of him walking back down the hall and up the stairs to his own room, a walk that practically took him to the other side of the house. 

You wanted to ask him if you could stay with him, if he could take you by the hand again and lead you to his bed but you didn’t feel brave anymore, and he wasn’t asking you that question either. 

You stared at him, eyes searching and beneath the strands of hair that fell across his eyes, you could see that he looked as troubled about it as you felt. 

But he nodded to Robin, already half asleep and breathing softly. “You look after each other, yeah?” He tapped at your hand with his own, squeezing it briefly, a flash of warmth and comfort before he stepped back into the open door frame. “Come get me if you need anything, okay?”

You wanted to tell him to wait, to stop, to come back. You wanted to tell Steve that you needed him. But you were sure that if you parted your lips to speak, you’d only release the tears that were making your throat tight, your eyes sting. 

You felt too small, too fragile and you were desperate to say something, anything. Steve was looking at you as if he was hoping for the same, like he could burst with all the unsaid things that buzzed and fizzed in the air between you. 

But he wasn’t feeling all that brave either. Not right now. 

So you smiled, watery and nodded, moving backwards until your knees hit the edge of the bed and Robin grumbled, reminding you both of her presence. 

“Night Harrington,” you whispered, throat tight, eyes glassy. 

You watched his neck bob and move as he swallowed, eyes holding just as much emotion as your own. He nodded too, willingly himself to back away from the door. 

“Night, sweetheart.”

———————

You tossed and turned for what seemed an age, Robin plastered up against your side and providing you with warmth and the soft sounds of snuffled breathing, her head pressed between her pillow and your shoulder. You wondered how she could sleep after the events that took place merely hours before, how the scrape across her cheek wasn’t stinging against the cotton. 

There wasn’t a clock in the room to tell you the time but the sky outside was still dark, then night unmoving and still despite all the things you knew that roamed under the earth, in the depths of lakes and between shadows. 

You were buzzing, an electric current that flowed through your body, keeping you awake and on edge. You wondered if it was residual adrenaline, maybe the looming threat of nightmares that promised to take you when you eventually closed your eyes. 

Maybe it was just Steve, only a few rooms away. 

The thought spurred you into action and with as much care as you could, you pulled away from Robin, smiling slightly when she mumbled her protests, still very much asleep. You pulled the duvet back over her as you slipped from the bed, toes pushed into the soft carpet and it softened your steps and as you headed for the door, leaving the room.

You could hear Eddie snoring from the couch, head tipped back and hair dripping messily over the arm, his lips parted, brow creased. You wondered how he’d coped with everything that had happened, how he’d managed to sleep so deeply so soon. He didn’t stir when you walked past, feet finding the stairs even in the dark, so very used to the house's layout after years of sneaking in and sneaking out. 

You stood outside Steve’s room for what seemed like too long, the minutes stretching in, the night barely moving around you. You had raised your hand to knock several times, chickening out everytime, just before your knuckles met the wood. You felt like your heart was in your throat, too hot and too much. 

You lifted your arm for the sixth time, chest hammering, stomach fluttering and before you could press your knuckles to the door, it opened, leaving you knocking on air before your gaze met Steve’s. 

You stilled, lips parted. 

The boy was shirtless, sleep mussed despite his eyes being bright and wide. He looked like he’d slept as much as you, hair misbehaving from where he’d dragged it across his pillows, seeking a comfortable spot that he could never find. His sweatpants hung low on his hips and there were some dinosaur themed plasters stuck haphazardly across his ribs, hiding cuts you never got a chance to care for. 

No one spoke. 

But you lowered your arm, wondering what you should say, wondering what he was still doing awake. Steve was looking at you like you were a dream, surprised and dazed, and he parted his lips to speak, stopping short when he realised he didn’t know what to say either.  

Briefly, you considered asking him if he was okay, but you knew the answer, could read it in the way he looked at you, the way he held himself. You thought about telling him you didn’t mean to wake him, that you were sorry and were going back to bed, but there was something in his gaze that had you rooted to the spot, chest warm, breath coming in harsh pants. 

The idea of telling him, your best friend, that you were in love with him, flickered through your mind and the mere thought of it made your tummy roll and dip. You shuffled from foot to foot, wondering if there was another way, if Steve could make it easy for you and read your mind instead. 

He whispered your name, a soft noise that sounded like a prayer, a question, a promise all at once. It had your eyes flying to his, gazes locked and something passed between you both, a silent answer, an understanding, a ‘oh, thank god.’

You moved at the same time, you think. A push and pull of two bodies, meeting in the middle, as natural as the tide. He found your hand between you both, grasping in the dark and he tugged you to him as you surged forward, a clash in his door frame, a heavy sigh, a blissed out swear. 

Your lips found his easily, his own searching for yours as one of his hands tucked itself across your jaw, fingers splayed messy across your cheekbone, his thumb pulling impatiently at your bottom lip, asking for you to give him more. 

You obliged immediately, the kiss deep and slow and languid. It filled your body with heat, it made your toes curl, it made you push yourself further into the boy until your grip on each other left crescent shaped moons on the other's skin, nails raking through hair, fingers pulling at clothes. 

You sighed into him, relief and wonder and Steve swallowed your sounds, groaning at your noises, at the way you were pulling him down to you, desperate for more, for everything, for all of it. 

For him. 

You barely registered moving, his hands cupping each side of your jaw as you stumbled together, chests meeting, feet clumsy as you moved into his room, Steve’s hand only leaving you to push the door shut before pressing you against it. 

You weren’t sure if it was the underlying threat of danger, of losing each other all night or simply the decade of growing up together, tension building, bodies blooming, curious stares that turned into lingering gazes over new milestones and hot Indiana summers. 

You weren’t sure why it felt the way it did, Steve’s lips on yours, his tongue licking into your mouth, his hands heavy and wandering, pulling up the hem of the shirt that he gave you palms seeking out smooth, bare skin. You had never had a chance to thread your fingers through his hair so roughly, tugging with confidence, as if you already knew he liked it. 

He did. 

You weren’t sure why it felt so familiar, so natural, like it was some cosmic event that was just waiting to happen, a comet waiting to fall, a star waiting to burst. 

His kiss felt like magic, like kismet, like home. 

Steve Harrington was mint chocolate chip ice cream, the smell of sunscreen and old arcades, cherry slurpees and Coca Cola, sleepovers on bedroom floors, bike rides without training wheels, first trips to the beach, old cassettes passed between classes, notes in your locker, smiley faces inked into the palm of your hand during lunch. 

He was a first crush, last love, favourite kiss, first good morning, last goodnight, twirling your fingers around the phone cord, late night chats, and sneaking through your window.  

He was picking you up. Breath heavy and chest heaving as you wrapped your legs around him, both oblivious to the aches and pains the press of your bodies brought you both. It all felt too good, too fucking good to let go of. You pressed closer, his hands under your ass, fingers digging into your flesh and your back was against the door, pushing your moans and sighs into each other's lips. 

It was too easy to fall into him, a lifetime of trust there as he smoothed a hand over your bare thigh, snuck his fingers under the hem of your shirt and swore at the discovery of more bare skin underneath, tracing the dips and curves of your body. 

The kiss slowed and stuttered, stopping as Steve pulled back just a fraction, just enough for his nose to graze against yours and he found your gaze, both of your eyes hooded and heavy, watching each other through your lashes. You were panting, chests pressed together and heaving, puffs of hot air brushing across the others lips. 

You thumbed at his cheek, an affection press of your fingers against his face and he turned, pushing a kiss into your palm that you wished you could peel away and keep forever. 

His eyes were still on you, searching for an answer, a question, maybe even regret. He didn’t find any of the latter and when he whispered your name, voice wrecked, you nodded, giving him everything he wanted to ask. 

You moved when Steve did, carrying you easily from your perch against the door and across his dark room, the only light coming from the split in the curtains, the open window letting in the summer air, still heavy in the night and the glow from the moon. 

He kicked a shoe out of the way, lips finding yours again as his knees hit the bed, bringing you both down until he pressed you into the mattress, sheets tangled and smelling of him. Steve moved over you, knee between your legs, hitched up into the apex of your thighs and you gasped at the friction, the solid weight of it pressed against you. 

His arms caged you in, his hands braced on either side of your head as he kept too much of his weight off of you, scared to go too fast too soon. But you let out a soft sound, a whine, a plea; and you reached for him, hand at the back of his neck as you dragged him back down to you, kiss messy and desperate. 

You felt like you were going to float away, like you’d open your eyes and you’d still be sitting in the barren landscape of another world, Steve in a chokehold and monsters clawing you apart. 

But Steve sighed, soft and pleading, your fingers diving into the hair at the nape of his neck and as you silently told him, more, harder, more, please. 

He took the hint, hands roaming, kisses turning heated, with more pressure and bite and the tears of build up burst for you both, an outpouring of crushes and tension, jealousy and what ifs, experiencing lust and falling in love. 

His hands found your sides, fingertips walking up the steps of your ribs before smoothing across your bare skin, nothing under his shirt. He grazed a thumb over your nipple, both of you groaning at the feel of it, a new shock of pleasure for you to share together. 

The boy pulled back, forehead against yours and eyes squeezed shut as if he was in pain, as if it was all too much. He spoke against your mouth, words rushing across the part in your lips and each syllable felt like another kiss. 

“Sweetheart, you gotta tell me if you wanna stop,” he was whispering, voice low and rushed, “I don’t wanna fuck this up, don’t wanna go too fast…”

You shook your head, back arching to press yourself along the length of him, hard against your bare thigh, Steve’s shorts rucked up to the highest point of your leg. 

“No, no,” you were panting, voice a high and a little desperate and you would’ve been embarrassed if he wasn’t looking at you like you were the entire fucking world. “Steve, please, please don’t stop.”

His lips came back down on yours at that, greedy and pushy, urging you to open for him and you did, easily, keening into him, legs spreading so he could fall into the cradle of your thighs. His hand still stroked over your skin, underneath the shirt, thumb circling over your breast, running down your side, lifting at the hem of your shorts. 

You felt dizzy. 

“Take it off,” you mumbled, your request mixed in with kisses, lips, teeth and tongue, but the boy got the hint, swearing as he pressed his mouth into your neck and leaned back enough to pull your top off of you. 

His lips parted at the sight, another sigh leaving him, eyes hooded and dark as he took you in. You gave him no time for recovery, wiggling prettily against his sheets and his body as you shuffled out of the shorts, dragging the material down your leg and kicking them away. 

Steve rocked back onto his knees, jaw slack, hair mussed from your hands and lips rosy from yours. He whispered your name, took his hand and dragged it from your knee to your thigh, gripping at the curves there, staring at how you put yourself on show for him. 

“Can I touch you?“ he asked, voice reverent, breaking halfway through his question, like he could barely keep himself together. 

You nodded, teeth biting into your bottom lip, body tensed in anticipation. 

“Words, sweetheart,” Steve reminded you, “c’mon.”

You gasped at the sensation of his fingers curling into your inner thigh, lifting your leg over his so he could prop you up and spread you out, eyes hungry and disbelieving. 

He felt like he was going insane. 

“Jesus, yes, Steve,” you groaned, a little impatient, your hands pulling at his, pushing them across the small curve of your tummy, down to where you were desperate. 

He fell apart when his fingers swept through you, cursing at how wet you were, telling you how soft you felt. He thumbed at your clit, quickly leaning down and pressing his lips back to yours when you keened loudly, your appreciation ringing out across the house. 

Steve kissed away the noise, soothed you down from your frantic reaction and he dipped a finger into you, groaning against you as he slipped one inside, a second joining quickly. 

You were overwhelmed, hands grabbing at his hair as he pressed open mouthed kisses to your jawline, smoothing his lips over your neck, sucking a bruise there, biting at the skin before running his tongue over the marks he made. 

You were pushing at the waistband of his sweatpants, grinding down against his hand, his fingers moving a little faster as they brought you to the edge, far too quickly. 

“Easy, easy,” he soothed, voice hushed, eyes lit up at how you responded to him, “I got you babe, c’mon.”

But you shook your head, hands desperate as they dove beneath the cotton of his trousers, finding him hard and heavy for you, Steve swearing profusely as you pumped him once, twice, in your hand. 

“Not yet,” you told him, voice shaking, eyes glassy, “want you.”

You heard his breath stutter, his fingers slipping from you, only to glide over your clit again, pressure building at each stroke. You whimpered, grip tightening around him and thumb swiping at his head. 

He looked like he was unravelling. 

“You gotta stop, I’m not gonna last long,” Steve murmured, voice gone, rough and hoarse. He licked his lips, looking down at you as he ran his hands up your body, gripping you at the waist and pulling you into him. “Not with you, not when you look like that.”

But you were desperate, needing to feel him, over you, on you, in you. Maybe it was the way you were looking at him, bottom lip jutted, eyes glassy, skin still marked up from your cuts and his teeth. Maybe it was when you pulled him down into you, lips at his ear telling him, “I’m already close too.”

He gave into you. You made it easy. 

His sweatpants hit his bedroom floor, a soft thud against the drawers of his dresser, neither of you looking to see where they landed. His lips were on you again, body flush, skin warm and Steve was mouthing at your jaw, your neck as you tilted your head back, giving him everything he wanted. 

You brought your knees up to his sides, caging him and he crowded into you, one forearm on the pillow by your head, holding himself over you as the other smoothed over your cheek, into your hair and you communicated through soft gazes and parted lips, a tilt of your head, a hand on his chest, as he pushed into you.

It took everything you had not to moan too loud, biting down on the muscles of Steve’s shoulder instead, the boy sighing, muscles taught, staying still. He gave you both a minute, his hand dropping to your waist, the curve of your ass before lighting up your skin, trailing fire down your thigh and hooking his fingers underneath your knee. He hitched your leg to his side, thigh pulled high as he opened you for him, the slick slid of both of you making it easier to move. 

Steve set a slow pace, agonising as it was amazing, both of you blissed out and lips parted, the summer air painting a sheen over your skin, stray hairs stuck to flushed cheeks, eyes heavy and hooded.  He moved over you like he’d done it before, head bent, lips brushing almost lazy against your own, as if kissing you was already second nature, as if he should’ve been doing this all along. 

You bit back a sound, a tight huff that made Steve snap his hips, making both of you stutter and swear. You could tell the boy was growing impatient, tightly wound and ready to snap but he was holding back, holding on, waiting for you. 

Pushing yourself up, you grabbed at him, hands slick on his skin as you gripped his shoulders and he got the hint, lips curling into a smile that made your heart thump and he grabbed at your ass, rocking back onto his knees until you were seated on top of him.

He took the chance to push your hair back from your face, kiss you slow and deep, hands squeezing at your ass, sliding over the small of your back as he held you to him and you couldn’t help it anymore, couldn’t wait, couldn’t stop. Not when he felt so deep, so good.

You rolled your hips, gasping when the movement caught him off guard, made him bite down on your bottom lip. He hissed, eyes wide as he looked down between your bodies, watching your hips move over him, rocking, grinding and taking him in over and over again.

“Jesus christ,” he whispered and he sounded fervent, voice swallowed by the whimpers and moans that fell from your mouth. “Fuck, you’re too pretty, too much,” he puncuated each word with a press of his lips, pushing kisses to your cheeks, you jaw, your neck and shoulders. “You close?” Steve asked, mouth agape as you started to move quicker, hips stuttering with impatience and greed and you almost sobbed when he clutched at your tighter, one arm around your waist as he helped you move, leaning you back as he thrust into you, his other hand dropping between you, thumb rubbing tight circles over you. 

You hummed, nodding frantically, hands grasping at his broad shoulders, his neck, crying out as you tightened around him and Steve swore, head tilted back and eyes clenched shut at the sensation. He gathered you to him, arms wrapped around you and he let you both fall back into the mess of sheets and pillows, hand out to catch you both as he moved another once, twice, three times, into you, hips stuttering, all rhythm lost. 

He fell when you did, eyes shut, stars blinking behind lids, the world warm and hazy. You clutched at each other, hand petting and soothing over damp skin and smoothing back hair, mouths panting out hot air into the crook of the other’s neck. You pressed kisses to his jaw, stubble rasping over your cheeks in a way that you decided you loved, skin flushed and sticky.

It took a second or two, before Steve realised you were both shaking, limbs liquid, voices gone. Carefully, as not to hurt you, he pulled back, slipping out from between your legs and you exhaled at the loss, hands reaching out to him in the dark and he found your fingers, twisting them between your own as he fell onto the bed beside you, chest still heaving. 

You wondered when it would feel awkward, if at all. If the inevitable moment of regret would hit, a common feeling after having sex with your best friend, you were sure. But it never came, the moment stayed warm, familiar, safe. Steve turned to you, slipping the sheets over both of you, pressing a kiss to your palm and pulling you into the heat of his chest. 

You fit just under his chin, the perfect height to place your lips on his collar bone, dropping kisses along the line of it, legs tangled.

“I feel like this is normally the part when one of us says we’ll need to talk about this, y’know?” Steve murmured, his lips pressed to the crown of your head. His thumb soothed over your ribs, dancing across your skin in a way that made you feel heavy, melting into him. “But I get the feeling that you might feel the same way I do.”

The boy’s voice cracked a little at that, and he cleared his throat, ducking his head into you as if he was scared to see your reaction, as if you were ever going to tell him he’d got the wrong idea. 

You hummed, a soft noise of agreement and you pulled back a little in his arms, just enough where you could nudge at his nose with your own, silently asking him to meet your gaze. You found his eyes, brown and warm like honey, but looking so conflicted, so unsure.

You brushed your nose against his again, once, twice, soft, slow. 

“Would it help if I said it first?” You asked quietly. 

Steve didn’t reply but you felt him hold his breath, his chest still and tight against yours, both of you still bare, warmed by the other, slick from sex. You continued despite his silence, knowing the boy well enough by now that despite the bravado and confidence he had throughout high school, he was fucking terrifed of what could possibly be rejection.

You saw him swallow hard, adam’s apple bobbing and if you didn’t know the boy any better you might have laughed. ‘Cause you were naked and in his arms, your bare chest pressed against his, his leg wedged between your naked thighs and you’d jumped off a boat for him earlier, swam to another dimension to save his life.

But it was Steve, the boy whose family left him alone, the boy who looked after everyone before himself. So you shifted from his arms, catching the way his eyes widened in panic, as if you were going to get dressed and hightail it out of his bedroom window. 

You soothed him, hand stroking over his cheek and you smiled when he realised your intentions, crawling over his body and settling yourself onto his lap again. Your thighs spread themselves over his, leaning down and into him as he propped himself against the messy pile of pillows at his headboard. 

His palms smoothed over your thighs, a solid and warm weight that gave you more comfort than he knew, making you feel a little braver as you crowded into him, hands pushing back his wild hair, nose bumping against his.

You cradled his face, hands on the strong line of his jaw, tilting his head for him as you brought your lips back to his, a soft press of your lips that turned into a demanding kiss,  a little force and heat behind it as you wished and prayed for him to feel the way you did for him. You left him breathless, a mess underneath you, hands gripping your legs, lips parted, eyes wide.

You smiled.

“Hey, Harrington?” You whispered, lips brushing over his in an almost kiss that he tried to chase. He hummed at you, answering without words. “I’ve never felt this way before and I’m terrified, to be honest.”

It felt a lot like saying I love you, and Steve must’ve understood cause he gaped at you, brown eyes shining in the dark and he brought his arms around you, pulling you down and into him in a hug that engulfed you.

He spoke into your hair, eyes closed and the dark of the night making him feel brave. “Fuck, yeah, same.” He cleared his throat, voice thick, “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

“I don’t wanna lose you,” you started, voice quiet and small and the boy was quick to bring your face to his, eyes serious when he interrupted.

“You won’t,” he choked out, “shit, sweetheart, you could never.”

“Yeah?” You sniffed, eyes glassy and god, you were overwhelmed. By the night, by Steve, by his lips, his bed, his body against yours. “Promise?”

“Promise.”

———————

No one said anything the next morning. 

Not Robin when she woke up in the guest room alone, your pillow cold. Not Nancy when she passed you both leaving Steve’s room as she left the bathroom, his shirt swallowing your frame, your shorts on his bedroom floor. 

She had smiled at you both, knowing, looking at your sleep mussed hair, soft smiles and marked up neck, Steve’s hand on the small of your back as he led you downstairs. Eddie followed your joined hands from where he was still sprawled across the couch, chest bare, rings glinting in the morning light. He grinned, laughing quietly when he caught Robin’s eye behind you both, shrugging when she shushed him. 

It felt like a new day, a fresh start, a second chance. 

The idea of defeating whatever this monster was, working out what it was that he wanted with you all, keeping the kids safe, helping your friends. It all felt a little less impossible than the day before. Your arm still stung, a dull ache that reminded you of the fights that had already been lost, but Steve was pressed against your back as you cracked some eggs into a pan, a breakfast for all of you, his arms around your waist and his chin resting on top of your head.

He pressed a kiss there and you decided that he made it feel a whole lot easier than it should. 

-----

Ko-Fi ♡

[hellodeez]

hello! Could I request teenage male reader who's new in the bat family? (or basically batman and his adopted kids, if your not familiar with the term)

Possibly who's more on the mechanical side of helping bruce? Making gadgets n stuff?

A/N: this is kinda bad but I think I'm improving 🤔 Thanks for the request!

Also girlies pls DNI! This is a post for masculine identifying ppl!

Warnings: swearing, being anxious, reader has trouble expressing his emotions a bit, terribly written fic

Batfamily x Male reader

*sigh*

Being a part of the batfamily is something you'd never expect to be a part of but here you are now. It's exciting but nerve wracking at the same time. There's so many family members...Even in such a big place it still feels suffocating from how much people there are.

Being new is weird to say the least. A majority of the family looking at you as if they're studying you like an experiment. "Hey, uh, can you stop that...Damian?" You can barely remember all their names. "Hm" is all they say with a stare that can make anyone drop dead right then and there.

Much like what happened with Jason and how he stole the Bat-Mobiles tires, you managed to break into the car and try and smuggle some of it's tech. Unfortunately for you, Batman just had to be there right before you were about to leave.

         -------flashback--------

"Hell yeah...What does bats have in here?" you say searching through most of his things. You managed to fit some smoke bombs and some spare batarangs in your arms.

You turned your face ready to leave but, you were hit with someone's chest. "Fuck" was all you could say as you felt cold sweat form on your forehead. "How did you get in here?" The one and only Batman asked. "Pfft your security is ass I thought you and your minions were smarter than this." You said trying your best to be intimidating, obviously failing.

That led to the man and his many children interrogating you. "Well what do we do with him? We got what we wanted but we can't just let him leave." Spoiler said. "How 'bout adopt me? I could help you guys y'know" you said somewhat joking and somewhat hoping the man would actually adopt you. "I'll think about it" was all he said.

You worked a lot with the Batman after that almost never with the rest of that batfamily as you were more comfortable with Batman since you met him first. Not being a people person made it difficult to work with the rest of them so you stuck with Batman. After a while, you gained Batman's full trust and eventually he decided to actually take you in as a part of the family.

        -------end of flashback-------

It wasn't that long ago that you got adopted but you'd think everyone would stop making jokes like "looks like Bruce found another stray" or "wonder how long till he becomes the next Robin". You had no interest in becoming a vigilante and would prefer to be the guy in the chair and making gadgets for them. That's why you would stick by Barbara when Bruce wasn't there.

It happened to be Tim's birthday and you didn't know what to get him so as a "surprise" you got him a better utility belt. "Here." You said. "Ah, God! Please don't come up to me like that Y/n. Oh? What's this?" He said. "it's your birthday. Open it." You felt so nervous you didn't know how to communicate whenever you where with the rest of the family. So far you where only friends with Bruce Barbara and Alfred.

You could see Tim open it and reveal the utility belt. "Woah what're all these buttons for.?" Tim was about to press a button that sprays smoke that makes anyone who inhales it uncomious before you smacked his hand away. "Don't press that!" "Um, ow?! What was that for?" You explained to him how the new belt worked and by every world you could his expression sadden more and more. "I'm starting to think you're smarter than me". "Maybe 'causs I am" you sneered and you could Tim smile a bit, probably because he'd never actually seen you smile since you got there.

After that, you stuck around Tim more. You usually hang around Alfred Barbara Bruce and Tim. You and Tim like to discuss topics that revolve around books and ideas for his suit to look better than everyone else's. You usually like to chill with Barbra and take turns being oracle sometimes. Alfred likes to have tea with you when you both have time. You and Bruce usually play chess or discuss ways on how to improve his tech. Sometimes, he'll even try to tell a dad joke because he's heard that dad's make jokes like that so he tell them to you because he wants you to feel like he's your dad.

Being new isn't gonna be easy, especially with Damian, they can be terrifying sometimes. But so far you're having fun, and you're happy being able to call them your family and to call the manor your home.

[girlindelusionn]

oh my god HELLO i just logged back into tumblr and i screamed when i saw the two chapters you posted 😭 THEY ARE SERIOUSLY everything i could’ve dreamt of and more holy shit u are now my fave person in the world. also yes dw i did mean lover by taylor PLS. u have seriously made me the happiest person on the planet and i will be reading all 10k+ words. ily never stop writing

HI LOVE IM SO GLAD YOU'RE LIKING THIS 😭 you're officially my fave person in the world too, ily and thank u for such sweet words!!

here's chapter three <3

i want them all, robin x you (part 3!)

"We could let our friends crash in the living room

This is our place, we make the call"

part 2! part 4!

You leave the living room to go find more ice and smile like an idiot when you see her cleaning a couple of cups on the sink. Seeing her exist so naturally in your own house still made you unreasonably happy. 

She was always beautiful, but tonight it was almost too much. Happiness did that for her. And, against all odds, she had been wrong all those times before. People, or a few of them, weren't that bad. Having friends was not a time bomb, a catastrofe waiting to happen, an eternal countdown. It was pretty cool. And it made her happy. So happy. 

This year had been absolutely insane. It was exhausting to even think about it. But along the chaos, hatred and tragedy you two had grown closer to people you'd never in the world would’ve thought. I mean, fucking Steve Harrington was in your house right now! And you were okay with it! You were more than okay. You –and don't you ever tell him– kinda liked him..? Sophomore you is probably calling you a traitor in every language possible, how could you like that idiot?

Honestly, it had been just as surprising as it sounds. It’s not like you planned it.

But Robin and you desperately needed jobs during the summer –cause again, the running away thing– and the mall had recently opened so that was the most obvious choice. Besides, it meant spending all that time together without thinking excuses for your parents, and for two hormonal teenagers who had started dating just a couple months before, it was the best news in the world. Until you found out who was the third person that was gonna be working there. No joke, you almost quit on the spot. Not Steve! Literally anyone but Steve. And you knew Robin felt the same, even though she assured you pretty much every day that Tammy Thompson was not someone she thought about anymore.

But he was pretty chill now that he was out of Hawkins High. Which only proved your theory, school was a monster. He was great with kids, (he had a lot of kid friends, that was kinda weird) he knew how to handle customers (unless it was pretty girls) and he would always cover your shift if you needed to. He was also falling for your girlfriend, which wasn’t great but it was a bit amusing. Overall, he was a good guy. 

But you liking Steve was only the beginning of the crazy things that happened during the summer. First there was the code, then the fucking elevator, then the russians (how could you forget the russians?) and then the magic kid and the giant monster.  

So it was safe to say, summer had been wild. 

Autumn had flown by after all that mess, and senior year had been good so far. Nobody tells you how exciting school can be when you have someone to secretly make out with in the bathroom. Your relationship was as good as it's ever been, keeping secrets was basically second nature for both of you. As sad as that might sound. 

Good thing is, your mom and dad had decided to take a vacation for the holidays. Three. Entire. Weeks. Of an empty house and a possibility for you two of, inside these four walls, having a normal life. She had packed a bag and told her parents you were going to yet another break up and were in the urgent need of a “girls week”. Sometimes, like two percent of the time, being gay ruled. 

You had spent these weeks cooking, reading, singing and wearing down every vinyl on your collection. Doing all those things you normally wouldn't. And it has been the best time of your life. Every time it got clearer and clearer that Robin was who you wanted to spend your life with. Even if that was something you would never confess to her right now. Even if legally that couldn’t even happen. 

“You’re staring” she says. You just snort and hug her from behind. Struggling to get to her shoulder. 

“Who gave you the right to be this tall, huh? Who do you think you are?” she laughs at your tease, pretending she can't hear what you're saying from so far above. With that she earns a light punch to her side.

“Ow!”

“You deserved it” you say with a smile that gets quickly attacked by her kiss. Surprised, you look at her with your eyebrows up. “What was that?”

“Oh, it's just something called kissing…” she jokes “I can give lessons anytime soon if you want. Ow!” another punch to the side.

“I mean– we have guests in the house”

“So what? They’re over there and it wouldn’t be so bad either if they found out, right?” your face shows confusion but you keep your smile. “Why are you looking at me that way? If you don’t want them to find out, I won’t tell them or do anything in front of them. At least not on purpose, but you know how hard it is for me to actually shut up! I mean the other day Steve heard me say goodbye to you over the phone and I had to tell him my grandma calls me babygirl and–- “

You kiss her again just to shut her up. A very recurrent situation in your relationship. 

“I don’t care, Rob. But I thought you did…” you hug her a little tighter and you feel her relax in your arms.

“I mean, it’s not like I want the entire school to know about it… But maybe just Steve?”

“You wanna tell Steve?” you ask once again just to make sure she’s really okay with it.

“Yeah”

“Alright, then we’ll tell him.” you smile and she follows right after “We wait until Nancy and Jonathan are gone?” she nods and you let her continue with the dishes. The music sounds muffled from here, but you can hear laughter above it. 

“So, just for the sake of the tradition…” you ask, sitting above the counter, next to her. “Where are you thinking of running away this year?” 

She smiles to herself and thinks for a minute before answering, gaze never leaving the cups. 

“Honestly… nowhere.”

You gasp, jokingly. “Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” 

She laughs a bit, but she’s serious when she says:

“What have you done to me? You made Hawkins a livable place!”

That thought, the fact that she didn’t care about where she was physically as long as she had you, made you melt with love. She was the sweetest person and you loved her so much it hurt. So, naturally, before leaving the kitchen with the ice in hand you have to steal one more kiss from her. You had planned a simple, quick kiss, but your girlfriend decided to grab your face and deepened it. You had cero (0) complaints, of course, but when you hear Jonathan’s steps in the hallway you barely have time to pull away.

“Guys? Steve just landed on the sacred stair and he might have to go back all the way to the start!” he explains as he enters the kitchen. You both hope he wont realize the faint traices of sexual tension left on the air. Or how you two are a liiitle closer than usual “Hurry up!”

You grab the ice and follow him out of the kitchen, not before shooting Robin a grin. 

The other two were still in the living room playing some kind of game Dustin had invented. It made absolutely no sense, but Steve had promised to learn the rules and play with him. Robin had landed in some kind of pit so she had lost fifteen turns. Jonathan was a little ahead of you, but he had terrible luck with the dice. You were doing pretty good, but had drawn a curse card at the beginning of the game, which made it impossible for you to advance more than five steps at a time. And Nancy and Steve were currently fighting for the win. Nancy, who had landed on the “silence cave” and could not talk for the next two turns, was four steps behind him, but now Steve had landed on the “Sacred Stair”.

“So now if you get anything but a three you're doomed?” you ask, incredulously, as soon as you sit back on the table. 

Nancy nods, Jonathan checks the handwritten manual for the fifth time, and you can’t help but laugh at Steve’s worried face.

“C’mon, Steve. You can do this.” he cheers himself up. You hear Robin scream “WAIT FOR ME” from the kitchen. A couple seconds later she's back at her spot next to you.

“Give me a three, a three, a three…” he throws the little dice a little too hard, it rolls and rolls and falls under the table. “NOBODY MOVE” All of you four find it hilarious how seriously he was taking this game.

“ITS A FIVE” informs your girlfriend with a smile on her face. 

“NO WAY”

“YOU LOST!” joyfully screams Nancy, who was also taking this more seriously than she should.

“WHERE IS IT?”

“Now you have to go back to the book of secrets, babe” laughs her boyfriend. 

“ITS A FUCKING FIVE. OH, C'MON!” he laments “After all the time that I spent trying to get the fives for the Philosopher Monster!”

And for a second everyone is happy –except for Steve, obviously– and for the first time in your life you are certain you have found your people. 

The rest of the night practically flies by and when you all notice it’s ten thirty. Jonathan and Nancy had promised to be home by eleven, to celebrate with their families, so they say goodbye and thank you for the invitation. Nancy doesn’t lose the opportunity to make fun of Steve one more time before leaving. 

“Let’s do this again sometime!” says Jonathan, kind as always.

“Yes! Can’t wait to beat you again, Steve!”

“Oh, shut up”

After a little more bickering the couple is gone and Steve stands by the door awkwardly. You know the problem, he didn’t have any family to spend the night with and he was also too embarrassed to tell you both, which was ridiculous.

“Well… I should get going too…”

“Steve, dingus, you can stay over '' clarifies Robin. His face lights up a bit, but he’s still a bit unsure. 

“You’re sure?” he asks you, the owner of the house.

“Of course, Harrington.” You smile and he gives you a hug that catches you off guard. He even takes advantage of the height difference too and lifts you a little off the ground. You laugh and hit him on the back of the head, jokingly. “Put me down, idiot!” he does so and thanks you once more “Now, when you had the genius idea of knocking the board off the table–“

“Nancy’s fault!”  

“… you also knocked the little carrots, I want them out of my floor by the time I’m done with dishes. Robin you’re in swapping duty, or the spilled soda it's gonna end up sticking to the floor”

“Yes, ma’am!” They both say. Posing as soldiers, with hands on their foreheads. You roll your eyes, and make your way to the kitchen.

After a while of tedious cleaning, —those damn carrots had flown everywhere— you take downstairs the couple of mattresses you kept for visitors and make a big bed in the middle of the living room. Steve’s early Christmas gift for Robin and you, a Queen record, was playing softly in the background and the clock on the wall marked fifteen minutes till midnight.

Steve’s in the bathroom but Robin and you are already in bed. She’s nervous, you can tell. She’s slightly trembling and fidgeting with her hands. It isn’t really the first time you both do this, but it’s as terrifying as the last time:

You two walk the distance between your math class and Mr Hauser’s classroom as you damn this fucking school for being so closed minded. All you wanna do right now is hold her shaking hand.

“We don't have to do this, you know?”

“But I want to.” She reminds you. You’re unsure “I really do. I'm just a bit nervous.”

“Are you sure this is gonna be fine? Maybe we could start with someone safer?” you offer when you face the door. Robin shakes her head no.

“Trust me, there’s no one safer than Mr Hauser.” you’re still not a hundred percent convinced, but she looks sure of her words and you would trust her with your life, so you knock on the door.

You both enter after you hear his “come in!”. He looks surprised to see you. 

“Robin! Y/N! How nice to see you both” he greets. 

“Hi” says Robin, who’s getting more and more nervous every second that passes. 

“Hi, Mr Hauser.”

You occupy the first two seats as you chat about your winter break. Well, you and Mr Hauser, Robin is weirdly quiet because of the nerves. You try to help by holding her hand under the table.

“All the way to California?” the teacher is telling you about the winter break he spent visiting his family “That must have been nice"

“Yes! Great weather. And I even managed to find a copy of–” 

“SO WE'RE DATING” says Robin out of the blue. You look at her astonished. “Y/N and I, we’re kinda– not kinda, we’re dating.” she explains. Her face is the same shade of red as her converse.

“Oh…” he says with a confused smile. You hold your breath, you know how much Mr Hauser means to her and not having his support would be devastating for Robin. “That’s great! I’m happy for you both"

You continue with the conversation, Robin actually participating this time. You even get to tell him all about your traveling plans. You also find out Mr Hauser was already aware of Operation Croissant, apparently Robin told him all about it, and he confesses he pretty much knew there was something going on between you two. 

You’re having a really good time, but after a while you need to go. Today you had a geography test and you needed every second possible to study so you say goodbye to her and the teacher and make your way to the library. As soon as you leave Robin turns back to see Mr Hauser, who’s looking at her with a grin, waiting for her to talk. 

“I know that you feel like I'm rushing into this, and it's probably a bad idea to make all these plans when we’re so young and delusional but—” she starts to ramble.

“Robin…"

“No, no, I know what you’re gonna say. ‘That’s just me being really in love for the first time’ but honestly it feels like i'm never gonna love anybody but her. Which I know sounds ridiculous cause we’re only seventeen and we have all our lives ahead of us an–”

“I was going to say that you look genuinely happy for the first time, Robin.” he explains with a small smile. 

“Oh…” she breathes “I am. I really am.” 

“Then there’s nothing more to say.”

So the whole telling Mr Hauser had gone well, and chances were telling Steve would go just as good. But it still felt awfully scary. 

“STEVE, CAN YOU HURRY UP, DUDE?” Robin yells at him. She just wants to let it out.

“IM IN THE BATHROOM” he complains.

“AND WHAT’S TAKING YOU SO LON—?”

“WE DON’T WANT DETAILS. I REPEAT, WE DO NOT WANT DETAILS” you look at her with an ‘are you insane?’ look. Robin shrugs and you sight. “Rob, it’s gonna be okay, dummy. It’s just Steve.”

She looks at you and you know she’s really trying to believe you, but it's just not that simple. 

“I know, I know. It 's just… too much, sometimes.” She shows her trembling hands and this time you do kiss her, taking advantage of the fact Steve’s still in the bathroom. Starting to realize this might be the last time hiding kisses. At least from him.

That sounded wonderful. So wonderful you kiss her even fondly. She accepts it, running her hand through your hair. 

 “WHAT?”

Oh, fuck. 

You drift apart from your girlfriend, who is still too shocked to even speak. She has the same guilty smile as you do. Like two kids caught red handed.

“…WHEN? W— WHAT?” 

You might have broken Steve.

“YOU TWO ARE…” he starts to guess. 

“Dating, yeah.” You explain. But that doesn’t erase his frown and confused gaze.

“For how long?” He says after a few seconds of silence.

You turn to Robin with a knowing look. “…a while”

“FOR HOW LONG Y/LN?” He’s not mad, just surprised. How could he have missed this completely?

“Nine months.” you reply.

“WHAT? SO YOU WERE ALREADY DATING WHEN I MET YOU?”

“Technically–” finally speaks Robin “ …yes. But only for a few weeks.”

“Wait, and all that time I…”

“Wanted to bang my girlfriend?” You complete his sentence “Yes, that was funny. But I don’t blame you, though, look at her.”

“Oh, shut up” complains Robin, rolling her eyes at you. You respond by sticking your tongue out. She tries to hide her smile, but, as always, fails miserably. 

You’re about to make fun of her yet again, but remember Steve’s still sitting in front of you. He’s wearing one of your giant t-shirts, those he's been trying to steal for the longest time, you make a mental note to make sure he actually gives it back before leaving tomorrow morning. He’s still processing, you think, but just to make sure Robin asks:

“Are you… Are you okay with it?” there’s worry in her voice and that makes him snap out of his thoughts. 

“Of course!” he assures and you feel her breathe again. It physically hurts to see her that anxious. She didn’t deserve a single bad thing. Ever. “I mean it’s a lot. And I feel like an idiot for not noticing–”

“Oh, that’s old news, Steve.” Robin chuckles, he doesn't find it as funny. 

“Well I was gonna talk about how you two are actually a match made in heaven and how I'm so happy for you guys, but whatever...” 

“Dear God, you’re such a drama queen.” 

“Come over here, you dingus.”

You three hug and when you drift apart Robin’s smile could light up the room. You have never seen her smiling so big. It takes you every bit of self control to not kiss her right there on the spot.

Then you remember. You can! You can kiss her right here right now! In front of someone!

So you do.

“Gross!” Jokes Steve. Earning not one but two punches, one in each shoulder. 

[normaltothemax]

He’s almost lulled into a false sense of security, by the time they get to the car. Almost. But Bruce is tense—his shoulders, his jaw; Jason has to look for it, but it’s definitely there—so he kind of sees the “talk” coming. That doesn’t stop him from stiffening when Bruce opens his mouth. From preemptively puffing up, like a cat that feels threatened trying to make itself look bigger.

The words are alright, at first. Bruce even calls his actions admirable. Still, Jason can sniff out a “but” a mile away. One is coming, and it’s gonna be a big one, he can tell.

And there it is. Violence isn’t always the answer. Jason scoffs at that—Bruce literally goes out every night to beat up bad guys. He’s training Jason to do the same thing! How fucking hypocritical can he get?

That’s when he drops a goddamn bomb and Jason’s jaw drops.

“What?!” His voice cracks, eyes going wide with disbelief as he sputters for a moment, outraged. “You’re grounding me from training? That’s such bullshit!” He doesn’t care if Bruce is going to give him shit for swearing, doesn’t even care about Alfred hearing it, because it’s the truth. “That’s not fair! I didn’t even use any of my Robin moves in that fight, Bruce! I didn’t do anything wrong!”

His arms cross tightly over his chest as he leans back in his seat, clearly agitated, feet tapping impatiently. “All I did was stand up for someone. That guy was an asshole, B, but it was just a regular fight! It was self-defense.” Well, not quite. “Regular defense,” he corrects. “I didn’t even—” He stumbles for a moment, face flushing in a mix of frustration, embarrassment, and anger. “I just punched him like I would’ve before. I didn’t even use any of my moves, not one! There wasn’t any special training or anything, it was just a regular fight.”

With a long, frustrated huff, he slouches in his seat, arms still crossed. He glares straight ahead, not wanting to look at someone else he wants to punch in their stupid face, now. “All I did was stand up to a bully. I was doing what you taught me to do and now I’m getting punished for it? That’s not fair.”

Bruce still doesn’t appear pleased with said repercussions or the aftermath, so he merely leaves with a gentle hand on Jason’s shoulder as he steered him away from the Headmaster and towards the door. 

“ Of course, in the interest of integrity, I’d have my lawyers check the school’s bylaws. “ He added, before he opened the door. “ Just to be safe, of course. “ 

And he flashes the older man a polite smile that drops as soon as the doors close and its silence between himself and his ward until they get to the car where Alfred had been waiting. He sits beside Jason then, still ruminating with a plan, even if a simple call from his lawyer should help him devise something proper. 

Perhaps he’ll just leave it to the experts. 

And it’s only then again that he addressed the boy properly, trying his best to release the tension in his jaw and shoulders ; sometimes a hard feat for a man that has prepared his whole life for war.

His gaze soft, trying, at least. 

“ We need to talk about your actions, Jason. “ He started gently. Neither a scolding nor a reprimand. But perhaps, still, something close. “ I think what you did was admirable. And I don’t think it’s ever wrong to fight cruelty and injustice when you see it. “ He continued, hoping the boy was still listening. “ Because too often ─ the world doesn’t change unless you do something about it. “ 

A heavy intake of breath. A gaze over his boy and  a hand lightly ruffling his hair before he pulled it back to rest over his knee. Looking out the window. Recalling a similar fight between a few boys and himself. Their names no longer carved in the walls of his memory but the blood on the asphalt is. 

“ However, it doesn’t mean, Violence is always the answer. “ He brought his eyes gravely back to the boys. “ Your fists are now weapons. I need to know you know how to treat it as such. ” A moment of pause as he then pointed to his temple with a sternness in his words. “ Especially, when you’re so much more clever than that. “

He pulls his hand back again, calm and steady. Letting the words hang in between them for a few more moments. 

“ No training for a week. “