#had to google this but yes

[ao3screenshotss]

[bklily]

Inside Out but its all the multiple variations of Adrichat

Bonus:

What a weird guy, huh!

Part Two Here!!

[keferon]

Did you think I was done? Ahahahaha no, I have more.

Because chapter 70 of MOMU gave me the very dynamic between them that I missed so much, I just blacked out and started drawing uncontrollably lmao

Also. ALSO. I noticed a while ago that Prowl has the habit of..like…constantly frowning. So. I did a bit of research and made this graph.

In 70 chapters, Prowl frowns rougly 104 times. And the intensity of this gesture is very clearly correlated with the development of his relationship with Jazz, as you can see ahahahahah It might be wrong tho don’t take me seriously I’m not good with graphs

[tobibius]

when i said soon i meant. right now

based off this:

[violetscanfly]

Ah yes. Me. My partner. And their 500 silver five foot seven tall titan plushie.

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)

—

Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.

And Danny hated it.

He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.

After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.

He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.

Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.

Right. Scarecrow.

His escape.

The chase.

His mom.

“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.

“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”

Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!

“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”

“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”

“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”

“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”

Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.

Danny sat down.

“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”

Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.

“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”

“Oh,” Danny said.

He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.

Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.

Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.

It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.

Tucker.

Amity park.

Home.

Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.

He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.

Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.

“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”

Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.

He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.

At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.

Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.

Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.

It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.

Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.

He was not about to cry.

“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”

He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.

Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.

He read the report again.

And again.

And again.

Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”

Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.

“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”

“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”

“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”

Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.

“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”

“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”

But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”

“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”

“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”

Dr. Crane sighed.

“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”

“…Why?”

“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”

Danny paused.

“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”

“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”

Danny snorted.

“You care about laws now?”

“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”

Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.

“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”

“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”

Danny nodded. He could live with that.

“Alright, then let’s get to work.”

—

[martinsorbit]

Finders Keepers warm up sketches b4 I start designing some character stuff

I missed themm

The DCAs arms/hands keep breaking because of how much they move and do silly acrobatics, pairing that with some leftover water+fire damage, it is one of the things that Y/N has to repair often;

New compatible parts are hard to find + expensive (considering how old the DCAs model is), so Y/N normally has to go to old faztech electronic trash dumps to find something that might work, which is usually pieces of other similar-looking Attendants from some old FAZCO animatronic line. You really hope sun and moon don't know about this, or else things will get awkward

[monarchisms]

[chiropteracupola]

'The Polar bear at Blair Atholl,' 2024.

[estrellami-1]

Anything

Trigger warning: discussions of death. Not a main character, but it does happen. Lots of angst. Lots of hurt/comfort. I’ll post it in the tags as well.

Steve has a problem.

It’s not a big problem, not really, but his brain won’t let it go and is making it a bigger deal than it really is.

Eddie won’t ride in his car alone.

With the kids, sure; he’ll practically dive into the backseat, noogie Dustin, generally make a nuisance of himself.

But if it’s just the two of them? If Steve insists on driving, Eddie will take his van. There’s no problem if Steve wants to ride with Eddie. But the other way around? Eddie riding with Steve? That doesn’t happen. And Steve has no idea why.

“Talk to him, Dingus,” is Robin’s advice. He’d flip her off, but unfortunately he thinks she’s right: this is something they’re gonna have to talk through.

So Steve pulls on his big-boy pants and marches himself to the Munsons’ trailer, knocking on the door and waiting expectantly.

He doesn’t expect Wayne, but maybe he should’ve, because that’s who answers the door. “Hi, Steve. You’re here for Eddie, I bet, he’ll be in his room.” He moves aside to let Steve in, and Steve thanks him after a second before moving down the hall to Eddie’s room.

He hears him before he sees him; or, more accurately, he hears his guitar. He’s playing the acoustic tonight, instead of his usual sweetheart, so Steve knocks instead of walking in like he’d usually do.

The guitar stops, and Steve hears it being put down, hears a heavy sigh. “Wayne, I’m not really in the- oh.” He opens the door as he speaks and blinks at Steve. After a second, he smiles. “Hey, man, c’mon in.”

Steve blinks. “Uh. Are you okay?” 

Eddie purses his lips. “Define okay. I’m not currently being eaten by bats, y’know? But playing the acoustic always reminds me of my Ma.”

“Ah.” Steve shifts. “Sorry, man. Maybe I should come back later.”

Eddie shrugs. “You’re here now, aren’t you? I can’t be that terrible company.”

Steve snorts. “No, I just��� I had a question, but it can wait.”

Eddie tilts his head. “You do that a lot, y’know?” He turns, sits on his bed. Motions Steve into his room.

Steve sits next to him, more comfortable here than in his own room. “Do what?”

“Put yourself last.” He shrugs. “You can ask me. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.”

Steve scrunches his nose. “Okay, fine. Why won’t you ride in my car?”

Eddie frowns. “I do, though? Hell, I did what, two days ago? You, me and Dustin went to that comic store in Indy.”

“Okay, let me rephrase. Why won’t you ride passenger in my car, alone? Without any of the kids? And even two days ago you were in the backseat with Dustin.” He shrugs. “It’s not a big deal, I’m just curious.”

Eddie takes a breath. “No, it’s- yeah. You should know.” He clears his throat, grabs the acoustic again. Plays a riff of some sort, fingers dancing over the frets. “I think I feel like I have to save everyone. Or at least be in a position where I can save them, if the need arises.” He swallows, takes another breath. His fingers still. They tremble over the strings. “Did I ever tell you how my ma died?”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to inhale sharply. He shakes his head. “We can stop,” he says. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Eddie smiles ruefully. “I do, though.” He shakes his head. “I was… I was six. It was three days before my seventh birthday. We were driving home from the city. Ma was drivin’, an’ she let me sit in the front seat, since it was almost my birthday. Or- that’s what she said. I think it was so we couldn’t stop her. Couldn’t save her.” He swallows. His eyes are glassy. His accent is thick, the way it gets when he’s thinking about her, or when he’s emotional. His left hand grips the neck of the guitar tightly. Steve worries for his fingers. “We weren’t goin’ that fast, even, but forty’s enough when-” he shakes his head, looks away. Coughs out something that wanted to be a sob. Steve takes the guitar, takes Eddie’s hand. Puts the guitar down. Doesn’t let go of Eddie. “She unbuckled her belt. Dad didn’t see it. I did. Didn’t say anythin’. Maybe I should’ve, I dunno.” He squeezes Steve’s hand. “Then it all happened so fast… she smiled at me, an’ opened her door, an’ next thing I knew-” he wipes at tears on his cheeks. “D’you know what happens to a human head under the wheel of a car at forty miles an hour?”

Steve gasps, grips Eddie’s hand just as tightly. Pulls Eddie in when he begins to shake. “An’ I know why, now,” he whispers. “Dad weren’t good to her. I’unno what he done t’her. I know she did what she could. But I was there. I was right there.” He sniffles, trembles with the effort of keeping his sobs in. Somehow succeeds. “So that’s why. Figure if a kid were to try… I could stop ‘em. Figure if you were to try…”

“You could stop me.” Steve holds him tight. “I won’t,” he whispers. “I swear to you, I won’t.”

“I know,” Eddie whispers back. “But I gotta be able to try.”

“Christ, Eds,” Steve whispers. “I was gonna ask if you’re okay but that’s a stupid question.”

Eddie giggles, still teary-eyed. “Just a little bit.”

Steve pulls away to look him in the eye. “I’m staying tonight, okay? Nightmares are always worse after something like this.”

“Then you should go home,” Eddie argues. “Sleep while you can.”

“Nightmares are always easier with someone else.”

“Damn you, that’s true.” They both laugh a little.

Just then, Wayne comes in with two steaming mugs. “Listen to your boy, son,” he says to Eddie, handing over one of the mugs. He gives Steve the other with a wink. “Lavender tea with a shit ton of honey. Learned it from my ma.”

“Not my boy, Wayne,” Eddie grumbles, but thanks him for the tea anyways.

Steve thanks him too, and he winks again before leaving. Eddie rolls his eyes. “I’d apologize for him, but you’d just defend him.”

“Hey, I like Wayne.”

“I know. Sometimes I think you like him more than you like me.”

Steve chuckles. “Never. You’re my favorite.” He moves so they’re sitting shoulder to shoulder, drinking their tea, leaning against each other. It’s peaceful, and soon enough Eddie’s yawning and dropping his head onto Steve’s shoulder. “Imma pass out soon.”

“Then let’s get you up to brush your teeth before you do.”

Eddie groans like the toddler he secretly is. “I don’t wanna.”

“Yeah, and you don’t wanna go to the dentist to get teeth pulled, either, now do you?”

“Shuddup.”

“Wow. Real master of words here. Really feeling that Dungeon Master power.”

Eddie thumps his arm, but snickers, and really that’s what Steve was going for in the first place, so he just smiles and leads Eddie to the bathroom.

Soon enough they’re in bed, tucked in next to each other, not quite packed like sardines and it’s only because of the heat outside that Steve isn’t more upset not to have more of a reason to touch Eddie. “Night, Eds,” he murmurs, smiling when Eddie rolls over to face him and is temporarily blinded by his own hair. Steve helps move his hair, grabs at Eddie’s hand when he’s done. “Wake me up if the nightmare doesn’t, okay?”

“C’mon, Steve, I can deal with them-”

“I know you can,” Steve answers. “But I want to be up if you are. I want to help if I can. Please, Eddie?”

Eddie sighs after a second. “Damn you,” he says, “I can’t say no to you.” He’s smiling, despite his words, so Steve smiles back.

“Thank you.”

“G’night, Stevie.”

“Night, Eds.”

Steve wakes up to Eddie crying out in his sleep. Even with his eyes closed, he’s got tears streaming down his cheeks. Steve sits up, turns on the lamp, and puts a hand on Eddie’s shoulder. “Eddie?”

He rolls over, away from Steve, and continues sobbing. “Eds? Are you awake?” No answer, so Steve puts his hand back on Eddie’s shoulder and shakes a little. “Eddie, wake up!”

He’s up with an aborted yell and a flail of limbs, sitting up and staring into the darkness of his room, trembling. He sniffs and turns to face Steve, finally realizing he’s there, and Steve opens his arms for a hug.

He collapses into Steve’s arms, face mashed into the side of Steve’s neck, arms snaking around Steve’s torso to give an ineffectual tug. Steve takes the hint and inches closer until they’re practically hip-to-hip. “Y’wanna talk about it?” He asks. Eddie sniffs and shakes his head. “Y’want me to talk? To distract you?” Eddie nods. “Okay. Uh… I may have bitten myself in the butt with this one, ‘cause I’m not a great storyteller, not like you are, but did you know we actually met in middle school?”

No answer. “We did. Hawkins Middle was putting on its annual talent show. Now, back then, I was nobody. No one knew me, my name, my parents… nothing. I had one friend named Tommy, who I’d grown up with. Of course, you know him, and you know what happened between us, but he was my only friend back then. I didn’t tell anyone, but I signed up for the talent show. I didn’t even know what I wanted to do, I just knew I wanted to do something. I’ve always had a pretty decent voice, so I figured I could just sing, if I couldn’t figure out anything else to do. Knew I’d at least beat out Tammy Thompson.” He shifts so Eddie’s hair is no longer a choking hazard and pets his hand over Eddie’s head, doing his best to tame the wild curls. “So it’s the night of the talent show, right? And it feels like the whole school is there. I’m sitting backstage, peeking through the curtains, and am about to have my very first panic attack. Someone bumps into me and knocks me over. They tell me to watch where I’m going, even though I wasn’t moving. So now I’m on the ground, thinking about the crowd, and the noise is getting to be too much, and someone grabs my hand and it all… stops. Just like that. It’s silent, other than, like, a ringing sound in my ears. And this boy, the one who grabbed my hand, kneels in front of me, puts my hand on his chest-” Steve demonstrates, moving so he can grab Eddie’s hand and put it on his chest, just over his heart. “-and tells me to breathe with him. In, out. In, out. He raised his hand when we breathed in, and lowered it when we breathed out. In, out. In, out. And when my breathing’s calmed down, he tells me to name five things I can see. And you know what I said first?”

Eddie furrows his brows. “My… my hair?”

“Yup,” Steve nods. “But you’d just had it shaved off, so d’you know what I really saw first?”

“What?”

Steve giggles. “Your ears.”

Eddie groans and ducks his head, pressing his forehead into Steve’s chest. “Hated my ears.”

“I’m gonna say something that’s gonna sound mean, but is actually a compliment,” Steve warns him. “Your ears reminded me of Dumbo. I always loved that movie, the reminder that we don’t have to change who we are in order to be loved. That sometimes the things we hate most about ourselves, the things people tease us about the most, are actually the things that help us most, in the end.” He guides Eddie to lay down. “And I’m not saying your ears are what saved you. But I am saying they reminded me that everything, maybe, isn’t entirely hopeless.” He smiles, tucks Eddie’s hair behind his ear. Says, “I like your ears.”

Said ear burns red. “You’d be one of the few.”

“That’s okay.”

“What’s your thing? Your… ears?”

Steve hums. “Did you know I cried a lot as a kid? I was very emotional, very easily moved. My dad always hated it, so I learned to cover it up. But I think it’s what got me here in the end. I could’ve told Dustin I didn’t have time to help him, but I didn’t. I got roped into this whole mess, but it’s how I got to know him and the kids. It’s how I got to know Robin and you.”

Eddie smiles. “I’m glad you cried as a kid.”

Steve laughs. “Yeah. Me too.” He shifts, a little closer, a little more down the bed so their eyes are level. “D’you wanna talk about it?”

“There’s nothing I want less.”

“D’you think you can sleep?”

Eddie takes a breath. Steve feels the exhale over his cheek. “Maybe.”

“M’kay. Lemme know if you can’t.”

“Okay. I won’t.”

“Eddie.”

He giggles. “I’m kidding. I’ll let you know. I just… won’t stop talking at you until you answer.”

Steve hums, lets his eyes slip shut. “I’ll always answer.”

“Yeah,” Eddie says, so soft. It makes something warm unfurl in Steve’s chest. “I know you will.”

Steve reaches out, squeezes Eddie’s hand in answer. Lets sleep drag him down the way it’s wanted to since he lay back down.

He doesn’t think about the fact that their hands are still clasped.

He’s the first one up in the morning, and he’s a little annoyed by it because they’d shifted during the night, so Steve is no longer facing Eddie.

His annoyance lasts for all of two seconds before he realizes there’s a warm weight behind him and over his hip, and he figures out it’s because Eddie is behind him, arm over Steve’s hip, fingers curled against the little bit of skin visible from Steve’s shirt riding up during the night.

Steve smiles, sighs, and lets his eyes sink shut again.

He doesn’t sleep, just kind of drifts, so he feels it when Eddie wakes up. He feels him tense in a stretch, feels his forehead press against Steve’s spine, feels his fingers curl farther into Steve’s stomach.

He feels Eddie wake up fully and realize the position he’s in. Feels him hum, then stiffen, slowly pulling away. Steve aches about it, but doesn’t move until he’s out of bed completely, taking the time then to roll over as if he’d just woken up. “M’rn’n,” he mumbles, not exaggerating the sleep-rough in his voice at all.

“Mornin’,” Eddie yawns. “How’d you sleep?”

Steve hums, stretches, sits up. “Think I should be asking you that.”

Eddie smiles. “I slept fine. Now how about you?”

“No more nightmares?”

“Not at all. Think you chased ‘em all away.”

“Good.”

“Steve.”

“What?”

“How did you sleep?”

“Oh. Fine. Great.”

Eddie hums, but takes his word for it, offers his hand to help Steve up, which he accepts.

“Can I ask you something that I’m pretty sure you’re not gonna want to answer?”

Eddie grins crookedly. “You can ask me anything, Stevie. If I don’t wanna answer, I won’t.” He sits back on the bed, next to Steve. “What is it?”

“What was your dad like?”

Eddie blows out a breath, looks away. “Jesus, first thing in the morning, too. Uh… y’know how you said your dad is a grade-A asshole?”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah. Last I heard, he’s in the state prison for the next… five? Ten? Years. I dunno, don’t really keep track. Was just little things at first, petty theft, then he got an ego and started stealing cars, met a guy who could clean ‘em, and he just…” he shakes his head. “Wayne says he got too big for his britches. I say he got what was coming to him. He tried to rob someone and it��� didn’t go well. He got caught, the owner tried to scare him off, swung first, but it doesn’t matter who swung first when he’s dead and my dad was trespassing, right? Tried to say it was self-defense, but…”

“But he was trespassing,” Steve nods.

“Exactly. He got twenty-five for that, and it’s been… twelve years? So I guess he’s got… thirteen left. Not five or ten. Guess it feels like he’s been gone that long.” He sighs. “I went to live with Wayne before that, though… I had a friend, he was my best friend, and my dad… really didn’t like how close we were. Spit out a couple’a slurs, said something about sending me to a camp.” Steve’s breath catches. “I called Wayne that night. Poor guy drove that night, was there by… one in the morning? Picked me up and I’ve never looked back.” He shrugs, picks at his comforter. “Turns out Dad was right about me, but Wayne’s never had an issue, so.” He shrugs. His fingers belie his nerves.

“I think, if I were to ever tell my dad,” Steve says quietly, “a camp would be the least of my issues.”

Eddie’s fingers still for a second before continuing, not fidgeting quite as quickly as before. “Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Then it’s a good thing you don’t have to tell him.”

“I think I do, though.”

“How so?”

“He’s got this… way. Of just proving himself right, every time. It’s why I haven’t left yet. He always finds a way to twist it around and show me I can’t make it on my own. Not on my Family Video salary.”

Eddie hums. “Maybe not on your own,” he admits. “But with a person or two? There’s Family Videos in other cities. Ask to transfer. Robin’s been making noise about heading to Indy, right?”

“I think she just wants out of Hawkins, and Indy is the only feasible place to her.”

“Very understandable. Where would you go, Steve? If you could go anywhere?”

Steve sighs. “That’s the problem, though. I can’t leave the kids.”

Eddie chuckles. “I should’ve known. Then why not find a place in between? Maybe on the edge of town?”

“We’re still both on a Family Video salary. I don’t think even combined we could afford anything.” Steve tilts his head. “You said a person or two. Who’s the other person?”

“Ah,” Eddie says. “Well, not to come between the platonic soulmates, but I’m sure Wayne would love to have his life back.”

Steve snorts. “Robin loves you almost as much as I do, Eds, of course you’re welcome.”

Eddie ignores that, for the sake of his own sanity. “Well,” he says instead. “Maybe it’s time to take a crack at those newspapers Wayne’s been hoarding.”

“Maybe it is,” Steve says, a strange sort of smile playing across his lips. “And I can ask people. You’d be surprised at the amount of gossip I hear at work.”

“Oh, I believe it, trust me. Or are you forgetting I use to hang around Sam Goody?”

“Oh, god,” Steve laughs, “I had forgotten that, yeah.” He sighs. “D’you think we would’ve been friends back then? If we’d known each other?”

“I don’t think so.” Eddie chews at his bottom lip. “Not because of you, but because of me. I was still stuck in that high school hierarchal shit, y’know? I would’ve seen you as an asshole jock even though you weren’t anymore.”

“I think I’m still working on it.”

“I think we’re all working on being who we want to be.” He stands and offers Steve a hand up with a grin. “And y’know what helps with that?”

Steve chuckles, places his hand in Eddie’s. “What’s that?”

“Pancakes,” he says decisively. “C’mon, let’s go bully Wayne into making us some.”

“And by bully, you mean ask once.”

Eddie hums. “Same difference.”

He waltzes into the living room, arms spread wide. “Sir Wayne! Our visiting prince has requested pancakes this fine morn.”

Wayne squints at him. “I’m your king, dipshit,” he says, lip quirked up in a smile as he winks at Steve. “Make your own damn pancakes.”

“Wayne!” Eddie cries. “Betrayal! Betrayal of the highest order!”

“You’ll live,” Wayne deadpans. Steve giggles.

Eddie narrows his eyes at Wayne. “Fine,” he says. “We will make our own. But there shall be no extra for you, sir!”

Following him to the kitchen, Steve says, “We’ll make extra.”

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Wayne returns, “but I’d ‘preciate it.”

In the kitchen, Eddie sighs with his head halfway in a cabinet. “Okay, so we don’t have mix.”

“That’s okay,” Steve says. “I can make them from scratch.”

“Or,” Eddie says, turning to Steve with a grin. “We can go out.”

“We could,” Steve allows. “But then Wayne wouldn’t get any.”

Eddie hops backwards onto the counter and leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees. “Y’know how I said we wouldn’t have been friends if we’d met earlier?”

“Yeah.”

“It really would’ve been entirely my fault.” He sighs. “You’re just… so nice. And it would’ve been unbelievable, for me, because the Munson Doctrine dictates that all jocks are assholes and stay jockish assholes. I think what happened… had to happen, if we were gonna be friends.”

Steve worries his lip. “Then… is it bad if I say I’m glad it happened? If only for that reason?”

“Only if I’m also glad it happened, for that reason,” Eddie responds quietly. “Y’know the only other person I’ve told about my ma is Jeff?”

“I’m…” he pauses, scrunching his nose. “I wanna say I’m honored, but that sounds weird.”

Eddie chuckles. “I know what you mean, Stevie.”

Steve nods, and they stay there for a minute, looking at each other, until Steve looks away with a sigh. “Alright,” he says, pancakes?”

Eddie gusts out a sigh. “Please.”

Steve chuckles and shoves the flour towards Eddie. “Here. Two cups.”

Eddie frowns. “Only?”

“For now. We can always make more later if we need to.”

Eddie shrugs, but nods at Steve, as if deferring to his expertise. “D’you have eggs?”

“Uh.” Eddie checks the fridge, then the cabinet. “No, but we’ve got Spam?”

Steve snorts. “That works. Wanna cut up a can and fry it?”

“Works for me.”

And so they work, side by side, until breakfast is ready and they’re all three eating side by side.

After, Wayne stretches in his seat, glances at the clock, and mutters something underneath his breath as he gets up. “Thanks for breakfast, boys. Steve, you gonna be here for dinner?”

“Uh,” Steve says, glancing at Eddie. “Unless Ed kicks me out.”

“Never,” Eddie swears. 

“I’ll pick up burgers on my way back,” Wayne decides. “That work for you two?”

“Definitely,” Eddie nods.

“Sure. Thank you, Wayne.”

“Son,” Wayne starts, then shakes his head. 

Steve gets the message: he belongs here. His cheeks burn. “Thanks, Wayne,” he murmurs.

Wayne ruffles his hair as he passes.

“So,” Eddie asks, once it’s just the two of them. “Any plans for the day?”

Steve makes a face. “I gotta work at two, but I’m free till then.”

Eddie snorts. “Lemme guess, you’re working alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Well not today!” Eddie says brightly. “Why don’t I come with?”

Steve blinks. “Because… why would you?”

“Cause you’re my friend, Stevie. I wanna hang out with you but I can’t do that if you’re at work and I’m here.”

Steve snickers. “I guess we can talk about moving in together. Tuesdays are always the slowest day of the week.”

“Yeah! Wayne’s got the papers around here somewhere.” He trails off, looking around, then bounds over to the TV with a triumphant, “Ha!” He reaches into the crate the TV’s sitting on and pulls out a stack of newspapers. “Okay, we don’t want anything from last year… beginning of this year might be too old…” he hesitates, looking at Steve. “Maybe since Spring Break? A lot of people moved out.”

Steve hums, moves closer. “Good point. There’s bound to be something on the edge of town.” He sighs as he sits next to Eddie. “The only problem is Robin doesn’t have a car, or even her license. And if I’m working here, and she’s trying to work in Indy, how’s she gonna get there?”

“Well,” Eddie begins, “who says you have to stay at Family Video? Why not stretch your wings out? Try something else? Indy’s a big city with lots of opportunity. How about this.” He shifts so he’s facing Steve. “If you could do anything in the world, work anywhere, what would you do? Where would you work?”

Steve fidgets with his pant leg as he thinks. “A bakery,” he decides softly.

Eddie stills for a moment. “I feel like I should’ve seen that coming. You’d be a great baker, Steve. Or if you want to just sell the baked goods, you’d be great at that, too. Hawkins is small enough we don’t have need for a bakery. Not when you can get everything you need at Melvald’s. But Indy’s big. I pass by two bakeries every time I head into the city.” He puts a hand on Steve’s knee. “Stay at Family Video for now. But when we move, you can apply to those places. Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve nods. He can feel his cheeks heating up, feel the excitement coursing through his body. “You really think I could?”

“Steve.” Eddie sighs. “I think you are so much better than you see. I think you can do anything.”

“I dunno about anything.” Steve ducks his head as he blushes. “But, uh. Thank you.”

Eddie smiles. “For?”

Steve looks up at him. His breath catches, for a second, at the look in Eddie’s eyes. He looks away with a shrug even as his cheeks heat up. “Believing in me, I guess.”

“Anything,” Eddie promises again.

Steve looks at him again. Really looks, even as his cheeks heat uncomfortably warm. “…Anything?”

Without looking away, Eddie grabs his hand. Rubs his thumb over Steve’s knuckles. Whispers it again.

Steve leans in and kisses him.

Eddie kisses back.

[seijorhi]

haikyuu ice hockey just ignited something in me (probably bc ice hockey is the only sport i actually understand)

but it offers so much room for yandere v yandere drama. like, you're actually allowed to FIGHT in hockey (well, not allowed, but it's generally considered to be part of the sport.)

idk, it amuses me to think of a yandere player(cough oikawa cough) who's so insanely devoted to his sport, almost ruin his career by cracking the jaw of a player from another team who his darling started fucking/dating.

like she very unexpectedly dumped him right before the season started (when he didn't have the time or focus to spare to get her back) bc he was being weird and posessive, and it just gets harder and harder to watch the gossip tabloids and sports magazines spread rumors about his ex girlfriend finding new love. of course he was gonna crack.

(bonus points if he knows this other player (maybe they were on the same team growing up) and the other player is half getting with yn to piss the yandere off)

sorry for the ramble! i love your work!

ooh see i can definitely roll with ice hockey captain oikawa's girlfriend getting so sick of his jealous, possessive bullshit that she dumps him.

there's no denying he's irritated as fuck that you chose to wait until the new season starts, but he's not going into panic mode or anything. it's fine.

you can go a few dates, have your fun. oikawa's pretty sure those assholes won't be sticking around long after he brings some of his teammates along to have a nice, friendly chat with them–

(they don't have to know that he won't actually follow through on those threats to beat their faces in. probably)

–just give him a few weeks to settle into the season.

—

this wasn't technically a part of the plan.

there wasn't even a plan, until the guy you'd spend a good two drinks flirting with suddenly realised why you looked familiar, and all but high-tailed it out of there like the devil himself was at his heels.

it hasn't helped matters that your annoyingly persistent ex keeps sending you flowers – at work, at home, day after day, just so everyone in your life knows that broken up or not, oikawa still considers you his.

bullshit. it's such bullshit.

you suppose you can't blame some random guy for not wanting to get on the bad side of an ice hockey champ.

it's then, somewhere around the bottom of your third drink of the night, that the solution to your problems occurs to you.

sure, a normal, average guy might be intimidated by your ex, but you know plenty of players who'd jump at the chance. not necessarily to fuck you (you're not looking for an honest to god relationship here), but to fuck with oikawa? an opportnity to put a crack into that asshole's attitude? oh yeah.

there's a few players oikawa hates more than the shirtless blond currently draped over your shoulder, snapping what is very clearly a post-fuck selfie of the two of you to upload to his millions of followers. admittedly, kageyama probably would've worked better, if the thought of using him like that – even with his knowledge and explicit agreement – didn't leave you feeling strangely dirty, and ushijima... just no. god, you're not sure you'd even be able to get the words out, much less hold your nerve to wait for an answer.

but miya atsumu? the cocksure, arrogant as fuck (hot as hell), loudmouth winger who's got a special talent for pissing off his opponents? he'll do nicely.

—

he's gonna kill him.

oikawa's gonna fucking kill him. he'll take the penalty, take the loss, the suspension, whatever.

the moment that puck hits the ice, miya atsumu's fair game, and oikawa's going to beat his stupid, smug fucking face in.

[starfish-spencer]

I know it's spooky season but I started this a while ago and I finally finished it!

Why didn't Psych ever have a beach day episode?

my favorite silly goofy polycule

You can click on the pictures to see them better!

[deadandphilgames]

anyways, who needs to tour in a straight line

[anbaisai]

Happy birthday to @crystallizsch and the lovely Yuusha! May you have another wonderful year full of happiness and currynoodles💜

[amane375]

I got caught by the twt-google streetview meme.

I had to do it for the royal trio.

I MESSED UP AMALIAS HAND PLS IGNORE--

[gothghostiie]

All your thoughts about Graves are amazing!! What if dear reader is his happy little shy housewife that decides to be bold and wear lingerie for his welcome home surprise- except he brought home a couple of close shadows with him to celebrate... so now you're being punished in front of them because Graves HAS to show his men his wife is his alone~ 🩵

thank you honey!! you have no idea how much it means to me 🫶🏻

cw: domesticity kink, exposure, light degrading, praise, creampie, teasing nipple play, talk about edging;sharing, spanking (ass and pussy), fem!reader, this turned out longer than I thought - not proofread

neither of you expected what the other one did - Phil didn't expect his usually so prim and proper, shy little wife to suddenly rock up in nothing but lingerie; you didn't expect him to bring some shadows home after a mission. usually he liked being alone with you, but usually you also wouldn't be waiting in that gorgeous, blue negligee, considering you only just bought it. you sat there in his armchair, legs crossed with the matching nylon socks being held up by lacy garters, heart racing when you heard the door unlock - face dropping when you heard the chuckles of multiple men. you panicked internally, frozen in your seat until it was too late to cover up, until he stepped in with his shadows behind him.

his face dropped briefly, eyeing you over and seeing you look at him like a deer in headlights - he couldn't help but grin. arms crossed over his chest, all of them still in uniform. "Well, what do we have here? if that isn't my sweet, little angel.." he hummed, carrying a note of sarcasm in his voice. you stuttered, stumbling over your own words for a good ten seconds before he shook his head and stopped you with a simple wave of his hand while walking over to you. slowly, Phillip bent down, hands on the armrests of his favourite chair, caging you under his gaze. "you wanted to surprise me like this? what happened to my innocent little darling who blushed when I even mentioned anything remotely kinky?" that same blush crossed your face again, making him laugh. "missed me so much while I was gone you had to throw yourself at me the second I came back? like a little slut?" he hummed, just loud enough for the others to hear. you blushed more, pressing your thighs together as he spoke, especially during the last word. he had never called you that, anything but darling, sweetheart and the like for that matter. but now he called you a slut in the most loving tone and christ, you'd be lying if you said it didn't make you wet.

"I- I'm.." you tried to speak but no sentence would form. he chuckled lowly, the shadows were now in the room but still kept their distance in case graves wanted them to leave. naturally he noticed it, noticed your eyes darting to them ever so often. He gave them a brief look before suddenly grinning, pointy canines on display as he turned back to you.

"should punish you for being so naughty darling.. I'm sure you won't mind the boys watching, do you? since you seem to love being on display like that.." he hummed, looking into your eyes, looking for any sign of hesitance. he saw the brief fear that got overrun by excitement, not to mention the way you rubbed your thighs together. "I'll take that as a yes." he said, suddenly grabbing your wrist with his gloved hand, pulling you out of the seat with ease. his other hand offered the shadows to take a seat in the living room, none of them hesitated even one bit to sit down. you glanced over at your husband, who dropped into his seat with a low groan, keeping you standing between his legs. "how about you get us all some drinks first, hm?" he asked, but it wasn't a question. you quickly nodded, cheeks still burning as the men told you what drink they'd like, you vanished into the kitchen. that wasn't something out of the ordinary, you usually liked making yourself useful for him and his friends.. just not almost naked with your nipples peeking through the thin fabric. with shaky hands you carried the tray back to them, handing everyone their drink - last but not least Phillip, who took the glass and patted his knee. "Sit."

without hesitation you sat down, making him smile in satisfaction. "you're such a dirty little thing aren't you? I can feel the heat from your pussy through the gear." he teased, his free hand snaking between your thighs, gloved fingertips grazing the damp fabric. you blushed, gripping the hem of your negligee tightly while refusing to look at him, or anything but the floor for that matter. "look at you, so shy suddenly." his fingers slowly pushed down on your clit, making you tense up. he chuckled at your reaction. "stand up. show the boys what I get to touch whenever I want." a shiver ran down your spine, yet you obeyed him like a dog. you stood up, even doing a little spin, the men eyeing you like hungry wolves. Phil meanwhile nodded, his semi pressing against his pants slightly. "over my lap." he commanded, you obeyed again. this wasn't a first, the two of you had tried some stuff and spanking is something that definitely stuck. slowly, almost teasingly he removed his gloves, putting them aside on the coffee table. "I'd say it's a shame to have to punish you but I'd be lying doll. I love it when you beg for mercy." with that the first smack landed, making you gasp for air. a few more followed rapidly, making your ass jiggle, your pussy growing more and more wet with each slap.

the men watched the whole thing go down, slowly growing hard and palming themselves through their gear - Phillip had laid down the ground rules while you got drinks, but you didn't need to know that. especially not when he landed the final, harsh strike, making you cry out. "stand up and show them how red your ass is. show them what happened when you're a naughty slut." he hissed, you obeyed with butterflies in your belly. you stood up, backside turned to the shadows as your fave burned in embarrassment, glancing at Phil briefly. he caught the look and gave you a reassuring smile. "so pretty, isn't she?" he hummed lovingly, pulling you in his lap again. this time your back was laid against his chest, his calloused hands sliding up and between your thighs while his lips peppered kisses over your shoulder. he was just about to speak up when he reached your panties, but instead raised an eyebrow. "oh? did someone enjoy her punishment?" he taunted, not even giving you time to think before forcibly spreading your legs, damp panties on display.

you cried out, shaking your head and hiding your face behind your hands. "i'-i'm sorry Phil, I didn't mean to, i-" he cut you off.

"now this won't do. looks like I'll have to punish that pretty pussy too." he hummed, before you could register it he began spanking your pussy too. every slap drew a loud whine or moan from you, legs twitching, pussy only drooling more. the first 10 slaps or so landed on your panties, the wet smack getting worse and worse, making him chuckle. "you're such a dirty little pervert angel.." he whispered, pulling the underwear aside to expose your sticky cunt, fingers rubbing between your folds. "I'm punishing you in front of my men and all you do is get wet and moan, not even showing remorse. I'm starting to think you wanted all of this, wanted to be showed off.." a smack landed on your bare pussy, making you cry out. "can't believe something so innocent and shy could be this dirty.." his voice was merely more than a low growl, boner pressing against your back as he landed another 10 smacks on your bare cunt, your slick dripping down onto his pants. by the last one tears of pleasure dwelled up in your eyes.

"Ph-phil.. please.." you whispered breathlessly. "can't take more.." your chest was rising and falling rapidly, hole clenching around nothing. your husbands hands slowly wandered up your torso until they reached your tits, groping them.

"oh? you can't take any more?" he asked almost sarcastically. "you want me to stop then?" he asked, yet you shook your head, trying to speak as his warm fingers slipped under the fabric to toy with your hard nipples.

"n-no.. I.. I want you.." you choked out in a shaky voice, nails digging into his thighs as you pressed your back against his chest. he laughed briefly, pinching your nipples lightly.

"say what you want. let them hear it." he whispered into your ear, nibbling right underneath it. you cried out, blushing in embarrassment as you looked over to the others, all of them with their cocks in their hands by now. you stammered, a soft sob escaping your throat as his grip on your nipples slowly tightened.

"i.. I want you to fuck my pussy.." you said shakily, almost crying from embarrassment - yet you wouldn't ever want to stop.

"fuck that naughty little pussy of yours?" he scoffed. "reward you after you enjoyed your punishment? seems a little strange, no?" he taunted, making you whine out. Phil chuckled, suddenly pinching your nipples tightly, speaking over you crying out. "beg for it." you hesitated only a moment before desperate pleas fell from your lips, begging him to take you. your voice was shaking, you were stuttering and fumbling with your words, him pulling yout nipples didn't help. only when they slipped out of his grip and your cried out loudly, arching your back he smiled, arms now wrapping around your waist. "good girl, there you go.. how can anyone say no when you beg so pretty?" he hummed, soothing you while one of his hands went to fumble with his belt. he peppered kisses over the side of your neck, nipping and sucking on it while you squirmed in his lap, moaning under his grip. only when he freed his cock and you felt the length against your back he stopped.

his hands snaked under your knees, with ease lifting you up and hovering you over his cock, tip just about grazing your still bare cunt, panties still pulled to the side. you peered down, breath hitching as he moved his hips back and forth, teasing you. "you ready baby?" he asked softly, no malice in his voice for once, just genuinely wanting to check in on you. you took a soft breath and gave him a nod, hands holding onto his forearms. he gave back and affirmative nod, kissing the back of your neck once before pretty much dropping you on his cock, the whole length forced inside your sopping pussy. you cried out loudly, arching your back as he growled, the feeling of your tight walls driving him insane.

"fuck, I missed your tight little cunt..." he muttered, hands gripping your lower thighs tightly to lift you again until he was about halfway outside of you, holding you there. he took a deep breath before slowly rocking his hips up into you, letting you get used to it. the feeling was intense, whether it was that he hadn't fucked you due to being away on a mission; or the eyes of the shadows burning into your cunt being split open by his cock. the thrusts were gentle but that didn't last long, he was growing desperate himself. no matter how hard he had tried to hold back, within minutes he was slamming his hips up into you, groaning and grunting while you were crying softly, drool running down your chin from the overwhelming pleasure. his fingertips dug into your thighs, feeling you become fully loose around him, the gushing sounds making his cock twitch. it didn't take long for you to squirm, getting closer to cumming with each passing minute. of course Phil noticed, he had seen it time and time before.

"you gonna cum?" he asked harshly, out of breath but refusing to slow his thrusts. "do you even fucking deserve that, slut? this was supposed to be a punishment.." his words made you shiver and clench, whining loudly. "should be so thankfulI'm m even fucking you right now.. should've just let the boys have their way with you.." his words made the knot in your stomach tighten by far, another sob escaping you. "shouldn't be letting you cum at all, should i?"

by now all your dignity and most of your shyness were gone, so almost naturally desperate pleas started falling from your lips. "please, Phil.. I gotta cum, can't take it anymore.. I'll be good I promise.. do anything you want.." the words made a chill run down his spine. even if he wanted to he couldn't hold back now.

"fuck.." he muttered, hand reaching towards your pussy to give it a good smack, you cried out. "cum for me doll.." he huffed through gritted teeth, fingers now rubbing your clit. within just seconds your eyes rolled back, all your reservation gone as you came over his cock, head falling back, whole body quivering as you drooled. incoherent thank yous spilled from your lips as he fucked you through your high, chasing his own - which luckily for him didn't take too long, especially with your sweet cries. he dropped you down on his cock again, the whole length disappearing inside you as he bit your shoulder hard, drawing a final cry from you before he came deep inside you.