#has not been proof read

[epiphainie]

i simply can't get over how tommy immediately opens up to buck about his feelings over the current 118. like saying "i wanted to be a part of that" is such an honest and personal admission to a person you barely know, especially to a person who is a part of that thing you wanted in. choosing the words "i was jealous" is a direct admission of being envious which is hardly considered the most admirable or desired feeling by anyone. it's also him admitting that he lacks that type of deep connection which is not something many people are very forthcoming about, let alone with people they met two weeks ago. and you can see in his body language that everything he says at that moment comes from this very real and honest place. it's not calculated, it's not just him trying to make buck feel better about his own feelings of jealousy. it's personal to tommy, honest, real, even a little uncomfortable as it takes a bit of effort but tommy says it anyway because he genuinely feels like he can be vulnerable with buck about this because buck has been vulnerable with him. it's like the truest moment of connection between two people.

[starry-bi-sky]

yall ever think Shen Yuan went through like, internet withdrawal after being transmigrated into Shen Qingqiu? Like, he's canonically a NEET shut-in who did nothing but spend his time online, you can't tell me that for the first week or first few weeks of being SQQ he wasn't twitchy.

Like, reaching instinctively to his pockets for a phone that wasn't there, having an obsessive itch in the back of his mind that he should check and see if X or Y novel or webcomic has updated -- only to realize he can't anymore and being irritated by it. Wanting to go and see if there's new posts about this or that, but again realizing that he can't.

When he's bored or uncomfortable or just feels like wanting to escape he tries to go for his phone to distract himself, but oops! Not there anymore, and now he has to find a new and different way to distract himself from his feelings. And going through system notifications, quests, etc only does so much.

And there's that Tetris Effect too. SQQ makes a mistake while writing and instinctively goes to backspace on it except hey-ho that's not a keyboard and now he just dipped his pinkie into a bottle of ink or on a still-drying letter.

With him scrambling to fix his reputation and learn how to be a peak lord, I think his abrupt cold-turkey from all things internet would just be another straw on the camel's back that he promptly Ignores until it goes away on its own after he acclimates to his new surroundings.

[tenderpreyy]

​I’m thinking again about Astarions sexuality and how I've seen some people (to be fair, just a few) talk about it. Mainly, people pointing out his flamboyant behavior, and that us as players are learning more about his past male lovers than female ones and basically all these things for some people pointing to him being gay or at least not interested in women in the same way he is in men. And him only being a romance option regardless of gender, because, well, all companions are and he is therefore just "playersexual", only showing interest in female player characters because he has to, because of the game mechanics.

I think what really rubs me the wrong way about this topic is that it echoes the kind of things bi/pan people (speaking as a bisexual woman myself) find themselves dealing with irl. Whether through some form of internalized biphobia or from the outside through other people's comments. Of course this is about a fictional character so it’s not like he has any feelings that could be hurt. But when i see people tallying up how often he mentions men vs. how often he mentions women it really reminds me of a way of thinking I sometimes fall into in regards to my own sexuality. This is definitely just an internalized response and not something I actually believe when I truly think about it for a second, but I know these patterns of thought very well. Of observing my own behavior. How often do I find which gender attractive? Am I attracted "enough" to women? Do I talk about men's attractiveness too often? Is it the other way around? Am I only saying this woman is attractive to prove something to myself? I literally have a girlfriend and my attitude towards mine or other's sexual orientation is generally a huge big "whatever, I don't care". And I still have a passing thought like that from time to time.

So seeing people talk about a fictional character in this way really sends home how many people (whether consciously or unconsciously) see attraction as some sort of equation, you can solve, where in the end you get a result of either gay or straight.

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

Randomly thinking about “tolerate it” (narrator voice: it was not random) and how under the cloak of fiction it is ostensibly inspired by works like “Rebecca” (which Taylor said she read during the 2020 lockdowns I believe?), with the line of “you’re so much older and wiser” indicating that the speaker is significantly younger and inexperienced compared to the person she’s speaking to and a pretty direct reference to the plot of the book.

But I saw something somewhere once that stuck with me about how it might not be referring to relative age between the characters but chronological age as in the passage of time in a relationship. And that made me think about how in a contemporary context, it might not necessarily be referencing an actual age gap between the two characters, but rather a sarcastic or cynical response to the man’s claims that he has matured (“you’re so much older and wiser [than you were before/than you were when we met/etc.]”), which then made me think about that line in relation to the woman. And that it could be taken like, “you act like you’ve matured so much in our time together and like you know everything, while I’m supposedly still stuck as the girl I was when we first met.”

Which then made me think of the “right where you left me” of it all and did you ever hear about the girl who got frozen time went on for everyone else she won’t know it and the bit in Miss Americana where she talks about how celebrities get frozen at the age at which they got famous, and how she’s had to play catch up in a lot of ways not just in her emotional growth but kind of in general. (Which also made me wonder if she’s ever been called out for immaturity/lack of curiosity/lack of education about things in her life…)

Which then made me think about the rest of the song, and @taylortruther’s posts yesterday about “seven” and “Daylight” and the way Taylor idealizes her youth yet contrasts it with an almost sinister reality in its wake, and the line, “I sit by the door like I’m just a kid,” because the discussion raised that her relationship let her recapture some of the childlike joy and wonder she’d lost. So this line is a double-edged sword: the speaker sits by the door with childlike hope that the person will come home and cherish her, but on the darker side, feels like the child dealing with the monsters she doesn’t have names for yet and the feelings of isolation she felt as she aged.

I’m not saying the song is necessarily autobiographical; like most of the songs on folkmore, it’s clearly a fictionalized story based on media she’d consumed and created, but we know a lot of the fictional songs were infused with her own feelings and experiences and… This idea swirling in my head picked up steam and now I kind of can’t stop thinking about it. Sorry but I’m a little obsessed now.

Like maybe it might start to shed light on why she identified so strongly with the novel in the first place…

[flutterflora]

Whenever I see people say things like "Pinkie Pie should've been a pegasus" or "Fluttershy fits earth pony more" I get a little frustrated because TO ME the mane six have always been a really good example of "societal expectations" VS "societal deviance" of the three pony species within equestria.

Earth ponies are almost always expected to be providers. Like the Apple family for example or the Cake family OR even the "flower trio". They provide necessities, often food or they often provide hard labour (note how "background" jobs like construction and taxi pulling are most often done by earth ponies too). Applejack is obviously a perfect example of this! She's the head of her family, she's extremely hard working, shes incredibly physically strong, she's known and relied on by most of Ponyvill. Applejack very much lives up to the expectations that pony society has of earth ponies.

Pinkie Pie on the other hand is not one bit concerned with hard work. Her whole thing is having fun and throwing parties. In a way she is also providing something very important and necessary, socialisation and relaxation, however these are generally not deemed as valuable as strenuous labour and food production. Pinkie Pie is always written off as "childish" or not taking things seriously enough. She isn't deemed as very reliable a lot of the time and has to work very hard to prove herself, more so than someone like Applejack.

Ponyvill was founded by earth pony farmers, and is densely populated by earth ponies. Earth ponies are expected to work hard and grow food and provide for everyone, their roles are incredibly necessary and their work is highly appreciated. However, without someone like Pinkie Pie who deviates from those expectations, Ponyvill would be a miserable place (as seen in the episode Magical Mystery Cure). She may not be a farmer or a construction worker but her divergence from earth pony "standards" is what keeps everything in balance.

The same can be said for Rainbow Dash and Fluttershy too. Rainbow Dash is an exceptional athlete, she flies like no other pony and she almost always has her wits about her. At the end of the day, Rainbow Dash is truly a performer at heart, she wants to be in the Wonderbolts and show off her skills to all of Equestria. Pegasi are expected to be fast, agile, eager, always cool, proud and quick witted just like the Wonderbolts, and just like Rainbow Dash. She is a peak performance pegasus.

Fluttershy is Rainbows exact opposite. She doesn't care for speed, adventure or displays of athleticism, she truly doesn't even care for flying. She is, in both a literal and metaphorical way, very "down to earth", however her role is still very important and her being a pegasus is still very integral to who she is. If it weren't for her experiences of being ostracised for being different she would never have the empathy and dedication to her animals the way she does (and on more practical note, being able to fly does aid her in her work a lot the time). Fluttershy slows down, she's quiet and she gentle which something that other pegasi (and earth ponies honestly) struggle with. It was alway right for Fluttershy to be a pegasus who could soar the skies, because if she never fell down to earth she would have never found her true calling. Without ponies like her, many important things, creatures and events would go unnoticed and unchecked.

Rarity and Twilight Sparkle is kind of a funny one because I think a lot of people may expect Twilight to be the prime example of unicorns, but that's not really true at all. Twilight, despite being our mane character, is actually the deviant one here.

This is illustrated for us almost immediately in the first episode, where she's invited to a party by three other unicorns but ditches it to go study instead. Magic is merely a tool for most unicorns, but for ponies like Twilight or Starlight, it is their whole existence, it's what they were quite literally born to do. Twilight does not value social status at all, she doesn't have time to and growing up so stuck in her studies I'm not even sure she aware that it's such a big deal to others, especially within Canterlot. It's also worth noting that to Twilight, Princess Celestia was always her teacher and Princess Cadence was her babysitter so their status as royals never really mattered to her and she's able to see them more are regular ponies for that reason also.

Most Unicorns are socialites, they value "social currency" and monetary gain more than they value magic. They don't care that the Princesses are very powerful magically, they care more about their political powers and their social status as royals. We see this clearly in the season 2 episode "Sweet and Elite" where Rarity gets swept up on the high society life of Canterlot, when she mentions being from Ponyvill to two random snobby unicorns they look down on her, yet once it's revealed that she's staying at the castle for her visit, things change, mostly notably: her status. Rarity is a prime example of a unicorn, she's stylish, she's ambitious, she's concerned with image, she's social, she has very fine tastes and she's a businesswoman.

As the series progresses we she both Twilight and Rarity gain some fame. Twilight is mostly inconvenienced and troubled by this whereas Rarity, like most unicorns would, relishes in any sort of limelight. Unicorns are expected to be professional, they're most often more modern or "ahead of the curve" than other ponies and tend they to be the primary business owners of Equestria. However without ponies like Twilight, magic would become just an afterthought. Without powerful wizards like Starswirl, dedicated students like Subburt or magic obsessed freaks (affectionate) like Twilight Sparkle, pony society would crumble.

Applejack, Rainbow Dash and Rarity are prime examples of what is expected of earth ponies, pegasi and unicorns, respectively, in Equestrian society. However without ponies like Pinkie Pie, Fluttershy and Twilight Sparkle there would be no balance and no progression. In fact in the episode "Hearts Warming Eve" we literally get canon lore telling us that if it wasn't for three ponies who deviated from the rules and expectations of their respective tribes, that Equestria wouldn't even exist today.

I think the mane six are a great small scale example of how pony society functions and I really appreciate this aspect of the writing <3

[eustassslut]

If we're talking full Stockholm Syndrome what does the reader like about our Yandere boys? Heat and Killer obviously give gifts and treat the reader decently but do Kid and Wire care if they're liked and what do they do to win affection?

this is a very good question actually. i think what the reader likes about each boy would depend on the individual experiences shared between all of them.

with Heat, i think the reader would like how eager he is to please them. Heat is so desperate to have his affections received that he'll do anything for the reader, even if it means breaking some rules and giving them gifts he's not supposed to buy. falling into this twisted love with Heat guarantees the reader with more safety and stability than with the others, despite the fact he is definitely the most delusional. the reader would also like that Heat naturally runs hot and lets them hug him when they're cold, as well as that he waits for them to initiate physical contact and doesn't try to make it sexual unless the reader wants it to be.

Killer's main selling point for the reader would be how easy he is to talk to. despite his long list of insecurities and his hatred of talking about his own feelings or emotions, Killer is extremely observant and knows exactly what his crew is feeling or thinking. he doesn't like to gossip and tends to just keep anything he's told to himself unless he feels it's a threat to the crew. so whatever the reader tells him, stays between them because he likes feeling that they have such a special bond that the others will never understand or relate to.

Killer also knows when punishments are going too far and because he has the most authority on the ship since everyone listens to him, Killer can step in at any time to help the reader without them getting in trouble. the reader would like how dependable he is and would begin to fall for him because of how he treats them with such respect and care after each punishment, making sure they're fed and looked after properly.

with both Heat and Killer, the reader would like how similar it is to having actual boyfriends. both boys are clearly insane and have trapped the reader on their ship forever but during the quiet and peaceful moments it's easy to pretend like this is a proper relationship with communicate, gifts and physical affection.

Kid and Wire however, are significantly harder for the reader to find something to bond with them over it or to feel anything positive because of how cruel and abusive both boys naturally act.

on the surface Kid and Wire both like to pretend they don't care about having their feelings reciprocated and that the reader refuses to touch or look at them unless forced, but secretly it really upsets them. they are both incredibly touch starved and just want to be liked by the person they love. when the reader first 'joins' the crew, neither of them give a shit about receiving affection or building a relationship. but when the reader starts giving Heat and Killer affection as the Stockholm Syndrome begins to take place, Wire and Kid naturally start to get jealous of the others.

suddenly Kid wants to have quiet moments in his workshop with the reader where they just cuddle up together doing their own things and wants the reader to sit on his lap whilst he creates them pretty gifts from scratch. so he starts putting in the effort to find out what they like and figure out what their hobbies are. it doesn't matter whatever the reader's interest might be, Kid wants to know it and will happily sit listening to them talk about it for hours. however, he's not going to approach this properly and will basically just yell at the poor reader to tell him about themselves out of the blue. so unfortunately for Kid it's going to be a slow process until the reader fully starts to experience the effects of Stockholm Syndrome for him but when they do, the reader would like how Kid prioritises whatever they have to say and takes whatever they say (only about their hobbies/themselves) on board.

the reader would also become more drawn and attached to Kid if he ever showed his more vulnerable side, which is usually reserved for Killer, to them.

with Wire, however, it is a lot harder to find things to like about him. he's just too mean and horrible to the reader, there's nothing to really like about how he constantly bullies and ridicules them. but that doesn't mean it's not possible to experience Stockholm Syndrome for him! it would just take a lot longer to begin developing compared to the others because he's so confusing and difficult to get along with. it wouldn't happen until the reader starts to notice just how sweet and caring Wire can be towards his crew members in the relaxing moments. suddenly the reader begins to hyper-fixate on this soft side that Wire has to others and starts putting in some subconscious effort to please him.

it would take them a while, but within a year of living on the Victoria Punk, the reader begins to develop an understanding of Wire and becomes increasingly happier to play along with his cruel games for the rare moments where he's so gentle towards them. whilst this want to be liked by the other would probably be one sided for the reader, Wire would increasingly grow eager to trade a nicer version of himself to the reader in exchange for the things he feels he needs. if giving the reader privacy or the opportunity to cry in peace makes it so they take his cruel version of affection, then he's happy to make the trade. therefore, the only instance i can really see the reader beginning to fall for Wire is through how he openly treats others around him and that is what they would like the most about them.

overall, like you mentioned, Heat and Killer would be the ones to obsessively give gifts of things deemed valuable to the reader for any affection they can get due to being so incredibly touch starved and lonely which results in a very quick Stockholm Syndrome scenario. however i also think that Kid would also give them gifts that he made for affection, but this would only happen if he had begun to want to have his feelings reciprocated by the reader/when he decides he is also in dire need of affection and would only result in a Stockholm Syndrome scenario with the reader if he made the first move to be more gentle. Wire however is too mean to truly ever give proper gifts since he doesn't really care about being loved back by the reader but his versions are the most valuable when remembering how mean he is.

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[aresianrepose]

Before the semester kicks off and murders me, @disniq​ asked for my essay on Jason Todd and hysteria. So, without further ado, here is an actual essay (fucking dissertation) because I refuse brevity. It is extremely long. I’ve split it into sections so you can find the section header and read what you want. This does not encompass all the narrative trauma themes and lived experiences that this boy holds, just specifically hysteria. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric & Bruce Wayne, The Batman

I think it’s a common reading that Jason Todd is girl-coded and the patron saint of victims, at least within the circle that I’ve fallen into within this fandom. There are plenty of meta discussions on why those readings stand, so I’m not going to reiterate them. A pillar of him being girl-coded and someone trauma survivors have latched onto as one of our own has to do with being written in the context of hysterical femininity. And let me just say, I don’t think that writing was done in a way that he was intentionally coded as hysterical, but it is a function of our patriarchal society that this coding was used on him albeit without the explicit purpose of writing a hysteric story. 

For the purpose of this post: the word woman includes ciswomen, transwomen, and any person who is socially positioned as a woman regardless of gender identity. I include the positionality here because anyone can experience misogyny and sexism depending on the perception of the perpetrators either interpersonally or systemically. 

The History and Context of Hysteria

To understand the context, we have to look at the history and oppression of hysteria. Hysteria (in the modern context of psychology) emerged in the nineteenth century and is difficult to define by design and often applied to traumatized, unruly, and broken women. The main patriarchs who contributed to hysterical study were Jean-Martin Charcot and Sigmund Freud. I only mention this because it’s important to know their names moving forward for any of this to make sense. The beginning of this started with Charcot literally putting women whose lives had been marked by rape, abuse, exploitation, and poverty on display in his Tuesday lectures (which were open to the public) to show his findings on hysteria. This was actually seen as restoring dignity (fucking yikes) to the women because before Charcot these hysterical women were cast aside and not treated at all. In Charcot’s work, the women’s speech was seen as simply “vocalization” and their inner lives, their stories, their words, were silenced. After hearing a woman cry for her mother during one of the public sessions Charcot remarked, “Again, note these screams. You could say it’s a lot of noise over nothing” (Herman). 

This led to Freud, Charcot’s student, wanting to surpass his teacher by discovering the cause of hysteria. This was disastrous. Freud started with listening to the hysterics. In doing so, he learned and believed them about the abuse, rape, and exploitation of their pasts. He then published his work and gave a lecture on it. The work rivals even contemporary psychological work on trauma in it’s level of compassion, understanding, and treatment of survivors. However, he was then labeled a feminist (this was all happening during the first wave of feminism) and professionally ostracized. How in the world could these aristocratic French men be sexually abusing their wives, sisters, and daughters??? Insanity, truly. And... This always fucking gets me. He recanted his work and then told his patients they all imagined it because they wanted to be sexually abused by their husbands, brothers, and fathers. This set back the study of trauma by literally a century. One colleague called his work “a scientific fairy-tale” simply because he had the audacity to believe victims. Also, I want to point out that the famous hysteria case during this time was the case of Anna O and she was ultimately villainized by the entire psychological community for going into crisis after her care provider abruptly ended their therapeutic relationship after two years of DAILY sessions. 

Anyway. We can see how the power of these men over vulnerable women silenced, pathologized, villainized, infantilized, and used male ‘logic’ to completely destroy their credibility and lives under the guise of care and hysteria. Even when credible men lend their expertise and voices to the victims, their voices are silenced. This particular iteration of hysteria lasted over a century, and we are still dealing with the consequences of these actions and ideas within our social construction, medical and mental health care, interpersonal relationships, and more. Patriarchal pillars such as hysteria don’t die. We saw it move from hysteria to schizophrenia (which used to have the same symptoms of hysteria before the diagnosis changed in more contemporary psychology) after this which led to widespread lobotomies and electroshock therapy (my least favorite case of a lobotomy being done is on a woman who was diagnosed with LITERALLY ‘narcissist husband’) to depression in the 40s-50s with the over prescription of benzodiazepines to house wives to keep them in a zombie state (these prescriptions were sometimes double and triple what we take today with the intent of medical catatonia). In my opinion, as well as other counselors within the feminist therapy theoretical orientation, we are currently seeing it with the emergence of borderline-personality disorder. Think about how BPD is treated and demonized for a second. I professionally know therapists who refuse to work with BPD clients due to this villainization and just fucking gross perception of victims.

These are just the highlights, but it shows the history of hysteria. There have been centuries of women being marked as hysterical and the cures have ranged from lobotomy to bed rest (which sounds not so bad but read the Yellow Wallpaper and get back to me on that one). While the Yellow Wallpaper is fictional, the life behind it was not. After the traumatic birth of her child the author, Charlotte Perkins Gilman, was remanded to bed rest by the authority of her husband and doctor. Within the sphere of medical control, hysterical women are often treated as children while their doctors make decisions for their mental well-being without consulting them, or they hide the truth of their procedures for “the woman’s own good” and because “she’s hysterical and wouldn’t comprehend the logical need for this.” She then had a mental break due to the treatment. Again, we see hysterical women being silenced, infantilized, discredited from their own experiences, and under the narrative control of male logic and voices. 

Hysterical women have often historically been seen as beneath men, except for when they’re dangerous. Listening to victims is inherently threatening to the status quo because all trauma comes from a systemic framework. The framework that upholds patriarchal power. It’s easy to see why that would be seen as dangerous to powerful men. We saw this with the European witch genocide in which oppressed women were targeted and wiped out under the excuse of what was considered women’s work. (Before this time, witchcraft wasn’t tied to any religion and was mostly just seen as women’s work. It was targeted specifically to have an excuse to persecute widows, homeless, disabled, and vulnerable women who no longer had men to reign over them during a time of political unrest and scarce resources). This time period saw hysterical and traumatized women demonized as dangerous, evil, immoral, hypersexual, and supernaturally wily. A threat to the moral fabric of society. 

(Interesting history side note: this caused the view of women’s base traits we have today. It stemmed from the Victorian era that came after this time period in which women learned if they behaved a certain way, they would be spared the stake. For example, before the witch trials, women were actually seen as the ones with unsatiable sexual appetites, something we culturally prescribe to men now.) 

Notice how none of this has to do with the actual abuse that happens to the women, but instead the labeling and treatment of women when they are already showing the symptoms of abuse, trauma, control, exploitation, and rape. 

Jason Todd, The Hysteric

So, how does this relate to Jason Todd? To say that Jason has experienced trauma would be an understatement. Extreme poverty, loss of parent to death and addiction, loss of parent to the justice system, parental abuse, manipulation, witnessing violent crimes, witnessing the aftermath of sexual abuse and assault, arguably (not explicit in the text) his own sexual trauma, witnessing the dead bodies of victims, a violent death, and subsequently a violent resurrection. There’s also an argument to be made for being a child soldier and how that is romanticized up until he dies, but the text does not treat this as traumatizing.

Now, I’m not going to dive into the trauma he experienced. The purpose of this is only to look at how he’s framed as hysterical in the narrative, and as I stated, hysteria was a word slapped on women after they tried to talk about their trauma or exhibited symptoms (or were just unruly women). Jason does embody many facets of the victim experience and this is just one of them. 

Feelings vs “logic” - Firstly, it is really hard to talk calmly about things that you carry, your experiences, your trauma, and things that specifically harm you. It is easy to talk calmly about things that don’t. This is why there is an abuse tactic of gaslighting or silencing victims by framing their very real reactions to harm or their triggers as abuse, this is known as “reactive abuse.” This tactic is also employed in oppressive settings where the privileged group will often default to ‘winning’ a debate by being able to remain calm while the marginalized group whose life, personhood, etc is being harmed by the things being discussed and are unable to have a sterilized, emotionless debate. 

Both of these settings fit Jason nicely within the moral context of vigilante comics. He fought back, he didn’t lay down, and he will do what he deems as necessary to protect himself and others from his fate. This, however, is framed by Bruce and others as being just as bad as his murderer or even just as bad as Joe fucking Chill. To put this in perspective of a real world equivalent. Combine every billionaire on this planet into one person and instead of their shitty business practices murdering people, they did it with their own two hands. And due to their resources and political power, they would never, ever stop killing or be reasonably contained. More people would die with absolute 100% certainty. Would killing that one person make you equally bad as that person or violating the sanctity of life? That’s the moral question that Bruce puts onto Jason. While the moral question inherent to Jason is actually, is there a line worth crossing to provide reasonable safety (for yourself or the nameless community)? There is actually a difference between those two questions and the reactive abuse framing is certainly a choice. Also, it is funny to me that a man with the amount of power Bruce has (and frequently misuses) can lecture a murder victim on the misuse of power and morality. Are we supposed to be agree with his stoic, philosophical lecturing to a marginalized, abused, murder victim? (yes, we are). Bruce leverages (personal) philosophy against victim’s voice for their own safety, and take a wild guess which one is framed as logical and reasonable.

Jason’s morals come secondary to Bruce’s philosophy in a universe where there is still harm being done (but it’s an acceptable harm). Why is killing the line? Bruce is regularly destroying families and lives by feeding them into the prison industrial complex while supporting it with his whole chest. Or he’s disabling and seriously maiming people with the level of violence he uses. 

Crying - Throughout the entire story of Under the Red Hood, we never once see Bruce emote while interacting with Jason outside of tight grimaces. With the exception of the shock he shows at the Joker’s life being threatened, which... Okay, suuure. We never see him cry during any of their interactions, but we do see Jason cry. Specifically, we see him crying when he’s at his most emotionally vulnerable and physically dangerous to the toxic male power fantasy. This kind of vulnerability is rarely shown by male characters, and when it is, it’s usually done with a mist of a tear in their eyes or their face is hidden. There are a few narrative devices that allow men to cry, but they are the exception rather than the rule. Usually, it’s to play for laughs, infantilize, or emasculate. Here, we see Jason combine the violence of a bad victim, bucking the system of power, and fully crying. Just slide right into that hysterical coding like a glove. Jason often shows his feelings entirely. Time and time again, the readers have seen Jason have breakdowns, cry, and be overcome with grief. This is tied to his portrayal as hysterical and unstable in the narrative, but in actuality it shows his capacity for love and how vastly impactful his death was. 

This fits nicely with the next point that Jason fits into the hysterical box. Love is framed as one of his key faults. A son reaching for his father. 

Love - One of Jason’s defining features is the amount of love and compassion he holds. He’s willing to put up with any treatment, shoulder blame, and sacrifice himself for others to almost an unhealthy degree. However, this doesn’t extend to what he defines as his baseline safety. This one line of safety is the one thing that can’t be crossed, even with all of the love he feels for his father. He desperately wants to feel connection, have a family, and be loved in return with the same unwavering ferocity love that he gives. This is such a fucking key part of the victim experience, especially victims of childhood trauma. The desperation to just be chosen. He’s raw and honest with his reasonable expectation for love to provide safety for him and that is framed as hysterical, needy, unstable, naive, and fucking childish. Victims know what they need to have safety, and this framing as Bruce knowing what’s best for Jason and literally giving a cold shoulder to his needs is disgusting. 

Less than - Jason is portrayed as less powerful than Bruce even though they have similar expertise. There are so many instances of this that if you just open any media they both appear in, you can close your eyes, point, and land on an example. It makes me die laughing every time I remember that the Arkham games made Jason just one inch shorter than Bruce. Like, they can’t even be the same fucking height, that’s the level of insecure masculinity surrounding this relationship. Jason cannot and will never be able to be on par with Bruce because of his hysterical femininity and the power of Bruce being the self insert for the toxic male power fantasy. This power dynamic applies to the other batkids as well, but specifically in Jason’s case there is an element of hysteria. The reasons change because he’s so inconsistently written but usually he can’t surpass or even meet a stalemate with Bruce because he’s too emotional, he’s unstable, traumatized, and simply Bad. It’s even explicitly stated by Alfred in Under the Red Hood. 

Victim blaming - Jason deserved to die because he didn’t follow orders. Jason deserved to die for not following his training. Jason deserved to die because he was an angry Robin (oh no a child had an appropriate reaction to sexual violence). Jason deserved to die for being human.

Infantilization - Jason is repeatedly infantilized in contrast to Bruce. When given the ultimatum at the end of UtRH, Bruce speaks to Jason like a child, or a bad dog. Ordering him to do things like, “enough!” or “stop this now.” Bruce knows what’s best for Jason (and for everyone in the entire world), we should really just take his word for it and not the victim’s. Imagine staring at a 6 foot wall of a man and scolding him like a child. Beyond that, as mentioned above, his views of love and safety are framed as childish. Even though they are actually leaning more toward collectivism rather than the rampant individualism that Bruce so strongly defers to. (also, just a side note, collectivistic methods in healing from trauma is actually the only scientifically reliable way to heal. Every other method has absolutely abysmal results and higher rates of relapses.)

Silenced and Safety Villainized - Jason is silenced in his own story, acceptable and honored when he was dead and met with vitriol in life. All of the love given to him as Robin turns to ash as soon as he collides with Bruce’s power and morals. I think any survivor can relate to the experience of being told that what happened to them was a long time ago and it’s time to move on. Or even that they’re leveraging their own safety to get what they want in a manipulative way. Regardless of whether or not there was any accountability or justice for the harm done to them. Alfred asks Bruce if he should remove Jason’s memorial in the cave like two seconds after learning of his resurrection because Jason’s methods of securing safety for himself and using his own voice to define his story. Bruce was able to tell Jason’s story when he died. He was able to memorialize, grieve, and ultimately define Jason’s story because Jason wasn’t there to speak for himself. When Jason does speak for himself, he is villainized and literally stripped of his past significance as Robin (or a good victim) by Alfred within seconds. This is reflected in real life with adoptee advocates speaking about how adoption is unethical/harmful/traumatizing and subsequently being framed as ungrateful, selfish, etc. They were little perfect victims without voices before they grew up and could speak for themselves.

Erased - Gestures at the entirety of how Jason is either talked about or completely erased during the 90s Tim Robin run. He wasn’t convenient to talk about, as victims rarely are. This also ties into how Steph’s death was erased and Babs was written like she “won” at trauma by simply... beating it??? 

Dangerous - Jason is framed as threatening the basic fabric of society (in a story with vigilantes this is hard to do, so they have him oppose the no-kill rule, and then doubled down on Bruce’s characterization of no-killing). Anything that bucks the status-quo is usually marked as villainous in mainstream vigilante/superhero comics, but this is a step beyond that into the interpersonal and political sphere. Hysterical women are often framed as dangerous, villains, snakes, and treacherous (the other side of this coin is weak, pathetic, and pitiable) because they are victimized and then have the audacity to do something to the system about it. Whether that be the system of their immediate families or the political sphere. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that Jason was paired with Talia in Lost Days to hammer this point home to the reader. It could’ve just as easily been anyone with access to the Pit that rescued him, but no, we had DC’s favorite brown, treacherous, venomous, female punching bag. 

Bruce Wayne, The Batman

Bruce fits well into the father, enforcer, and logical man slot in Jason’s hysterical story. There is a history of ownership throughout women’s history when it comes to their subjugation to men. Women actually couldn’t be put on trial before the witchcraft genocide because they weren’t seen as legally a person. Their male owner would be put on trial instead. Women would go from being owned by their fathers to their husbands after entering marriage, the most dangerous woman being one who isn’t owned (orphaned, widowed). Bruce does treat (and even thinks) about Jason like he’s something that he owns. He’s his protege, his son, and his responsibility. 

The narrative function of Bruce as a perpetrator in Jason’s story. 

“The perpetrator asks the bystander (reader) to do nothing. He appeals to the universal desire to see, hear, and speak no evil. The victim, on the contrary, asks the bystander (reader) to share the burden of pain. The victim demands action, engagement and remembering” (Herman). 

Bruce does remember what happened to Jason. He keeps a permanent memorial to his dead son. However, this doesn’t translate into any kind of tangible action. He doesn’t do anything to actually stop the murderer who took his son’s life and he continues to throw child soldiers at the problem of crime (how many children have died for the sake of his no-kill rule at this point?). When met with the reality of his inaction, he fits into the perpetrator’s role like a glove:

“In order to escape accountability for his crimes, the perpetrator does everything in his power to promote forgetting. Secrecy and silence are the first line of defense... If secrecy fails, the perpetrator attacks the credibility of his victim. If he cannot silence her absolutely, he tries to make sure that no one listens... From the most blatant denial to the most sophisticated and elegant rationalization... One can expect to hear the same predictable apologies: it never happened; the victim exaggerates; the victim brought it upon herself; and in any case it’s time to forget the past and move on. The more powerful the perpetrator, the greater his prerogative to name and define reality, the more completely his arguments prevail” (Herman). 

I think it is simply fact at this point that Bruce is the head patriarch in Gotham if not, arguably, in the entirety of DC. That level of power in the narrative cannot be ignored, especially when faced with the very real, screaming voice of a victim that Bruce uses all of that power to silence. Bruce, because of his status as patriarch, default protagonist, and self-insert for the toxic male power fantasy, has the ultimate power to name and define reality. Especially to the reader. Bruce doesn’t deny what happened to Jason, because that’s physically impossible to do. But what he does do is ensure that no one listens to Jason, discredits him, and rationalizes his own inaction, actions of violence towards Jason, and victim blames.

Here’s Bruce using the most base form of denial and victim blaming:

After this panel, Bruce also revokes Dick’s access to his childhood home simply for asking a question.

This theme extends to other members of the batfam because of Bruce’s narrative power over them. It’s why we can’t have Dick, Steph, Babs, or even Damian step in and relate to Jason’s trauma or vindicate him. Even when we, the readers, can see parallels and wonder why these conversations or bonds aren’t forming. Jason HAS to be a lone wolf because he is hysterical and a threat to the system of power. This also shows why most of his runs in group settings outside of the batfam fall apart or fall flat. If he was humanized by any other character or had his trauma validated in any actionable way, it would be recognizing the failure of the toxic male power fantasy. The readers are not supposed to see the flaw in this system that allows the bodies of children to pile up and sympathize with one of their voices. It would be a crack in the system of power that exists not only in the source material, but very much within our real world.

Side note: Jason is allowed to interact with others in a wholesome and validating way when he no longer threatens the systemic power of Bruce. When he is silenced by the writers and plays the “nice victim” (like Babs does), he is allowed connection. Only when his healing is done in a way that doesn’t demand action and is only his personal responsibility (gotta love the rampant individualism). If he is hysterical, demands action, and asks for someone to be held accountable for his death, he is shoved away into a lone wolf box. Examples: Gotham Knights (from my very basic understanding, I haven’t played the game, only seen play throughs) and WFA. Victims are acceptable if they do their healing in a neat little box and stay there, but hysterics are the ones who step outside of that box.

Red Hood, The Political Voice of Hysteria and Trauma

Red Hood is deeply political in terms of hysteria and trauma. Herman stated that victims and those that authentically care for them or listen to them intently (whether that be interpersonally, clinically, or professionally) are silenced, ostracized, and discredited. Survivors need a social context that supports the victim and that joins the victim and witness in a common alliance. On an interpersonal level this looks like family, friends, and loved ones. However, trauma is systemic and the social context mentioned above must also be given on a wider social scale. For this to be done, there had to be systemic change and political action. Jason had the interpersonal social support and witnesses to his trauma ripped from him by Bruce. So, we see him move onto a systemic level of addressing trauma in his own political way. He literally cannot escape Bruce and this constant trigger because of Bruce’s philosophy and just... fucking power to define reality... being re-enforced constantly in DC no matter where he tries to go. So, he tries to heal by taking the systemic issue of perpetrators who cannot be held accountable or have fallen through the cracks of accountability into his own hands in a very personal way. A one man political movement.

Whether his methods are moral or ethical doesn’t really matter in the overall framing him as hysteric. He simply has to be opposed by the male power fantasy in some significant way. This shows that the goals, needs, and work towards victim’s and the marginalized’s freedom is dangerous, doomed to fail, and ultimately unethical if the victim is framed in a villain light instead of the more pathetic/pitiable iteration of hysteria. 

You can see how this is not only problematic but also reflects the real world values instilled in arguments against human rights movements (which are intrinsically tied to victims rights). Defunding the police is dangerous, the MeToo movement is dangerous, abolition is dangerous, trans rights are dangerous, etc etc etc. Think of the victims voices tied to each of these movements and how they are integral to the real change offered by these political movements. You can’t have human rights violations without creating victims. And you can’t have political movements surrounding human rights without listening to victims.

We can also see how the individuals within these movements are ostracized, villianized, and often silenced (sometimes ultimately silenced with death) because they rally against the systems of power that victimized them. The framing of traumatized, vulnerable people as hysterical is integral to upholding the system of power that traumatizes and harms them.

A popular comic book movie adaptation that highlights the importance of Jason’s hysterical framing and how it impacts the political narrative/how he is written is V for Vendetta. To be fair, it received an insane amount of backlash by conservatives (not within leftist or liberal spaces) for V’s methods in over throwing fascism, but only because of the movie’s release date being so close to 9/11. V and Jason have many parallels, it’s only the lack of hysterical framing that makes V more palatable to the viewer. We are told, not shown through behavior, that V is traumatized by his past and he does not pick a fight with the protagonist that functions as a toxic male power fantasy. He is the protag, with his version of Bruce being men who are not framed in a sympathetic, heroic, or relatable light. 

Additionally, there is literally an unemoting mask standing between the viewer and V, whereas Jason takes off his helmet to allow the reader to see every aspect of his trauma and pain. V readily dehumanizes himself into an idea, rather than a person. Whereas Jason screams to be seen as a person in a very hysterical way. So, we can see how the framing of Jason as hysteric against the logical, heroic man greatly impacts how the audience reads him when contrasted by a very similar political story/character who uses similar (and arguably more violent) methods to meet his ends. (This just made me realize that I would die for a Jason adaptation written by the Wachowski sisters). 

Jason’s work as Red Hood is seeped in leftist, victim, and community centered politics. His portrayal as a hysterical antagonist (at best an anti-hero) is rooted in misogyny and upholding patriarchal, capitalist, and the prison industrial complex systems of power. He is the righteous embodiment of “the personal is political” for victims. Even his Robin run draws attention to and shows correct, angry reactions to the system of patriarchal power in sexual violence.

Patriarchal Writing and Enforcement

Jason is girl-coded and hysterical because he’s supposed to be emasculated, discredited, and disliked by the reader. He serves the narrative function of boosting the toxic male power fantasy of Bruce and in doing so, the writers use one of the oldest tropes in the book (one that we have all subconsciously been taught since birth) to get the reader on their side. Make him a hysterical woman. 

References: for anyone interested in furthering their understanding of any of the concepts mentioned above and to, you know, use sources for my own writing.

Barstow, A. Witchcraze

Bondi, L., Burman. E. Women and Mental Health: A Feminist Review

Freud, S. The Aietology of Hysteria

Gilman, C. P. The Yellow Wallpaper

Herman, J. Trauma and Recovery

Ussher, J. The Madness of Women.

Van der Kolk, B. The Body Keeps the Score

Wilkin, L., Hillock, S. Enhancing MSW Students’ Efficacy in Working with Trauma, Violence, and Oppression: An Integrated Feminist-Trauma Framework for Social Work Education

[anglerflsh]

my favourite passtime is making up incredibly unaccurate armour designs. That's a lie my passtime is researching but this comes at a close second

[slavhew]

Hello!

If you're not too busy, would you mind listing some of the things you think count as death flags for Mr. Spender?

There's the obvious fact that he's the "old" mentor to group of young protagonists, but what else do you think would count?

OHH BOY ok so I'd think I'm a crackpot for this but since we're talking about Zack "Foreshadowing" Morrison. I have some thoughts

No harm in leading with the (chronologically) first thing that jumped out at me:

This one IMMEDIATELY made me antsy whenever I came back to it after my initial read, and considering Zack has referred to it on twitter in the past as one of their favorite jokes it's definitely not been forgotten about.

Second, the sheer amounts of near-misses, jokey or not, of Spender narrowly avoiding specifically lightning

Again, not much, but it's weird that it happened thrice, latter two of which had real gravitas rather than an one-off joke.

And third, Spender himself. He's repeatedly shown himself to be kind of a self sacrificing idiot, as well as prideful to a fault. Granted, it's both him and Mina trying to take on all the responsibility of saving Mayview and its inhabitants from their fate.. But Spender is exactly that right measure of doesn't-value-himself-enough (chest footprint aftercare or lack thereof), having an obscene amount of power (enables his loner act + pride) and poor judgement that has the capacity to put him at great risk. And it has!

Spender has not only shown low enough self-esteem to view himself as the de-facto scapegoat for the safety of the town, but also prideful enough to make very bad calls that end up in people, often himself, hurt (COUGH FORGE INCIDENT COUGH)

This is all conjecture, but it's definitely enough to make me worried about him :') Even if all this doesn't mean he'll necessarily die he's definitely getting (even more) seriously injured at some point. I love the guy but he's so far doing a horrible job of convincing me he wants to live bad enough to circumvent at least that

[revryebread]

wild wild west

The door opens with a slam, and one of Bruce’s animatronics- Stuart- was in the door way, holding it’s leaking side. “Sheriff Wayne! There’s been- The Una Gang- they’re here, and they’re breaking people outta the jail!” It’s voice comes strained from behind it’s porcelain face, the gears in it’s voice box struggling to run on less fuel. 

It gets it’s message out, and it collapses onto the floor- a oily handprint smearing from the doorframe as it slumps into a pile of metal, the gears grinding to a halt. Bruce Wayne gets up and tries to level his emotions. He’d been prepared for this. He’d put away so many other problem citizens in his time, Trish Una and her crew would fall just like the rest. His hand is shaking when he grips the brim of his hat, and settles by the time it goes over his head. The title is something he hides behind. Bruce can be scared, but Sheriff Wayne has to be strong, else the people of this town would be helpless.

There’s a part of him who reminds him how he got this job, and who he was before he had the hat and gun, but he shakes it off. No time for second guessing now.

He moves to the doorway and kneels down to pick the badge off the deputy in the doorway, and pulls up his mask as he moves out into the sun. As soon as he steps into the heat of day, he can hear it- the sound of people yelling, the sounds of chaos and disorder. He narrows his eyes and begins to slowly walk towards the other end of the street where the prison is. He had taken over the old Saloon and repurposed it once the jails were full, and then next came the general store, and eventually an entire block of the town had been quarantined as a prison for people he’d found guilty.

A troublesome individual with a book was the first one who was running his way, quickly spotting Sheriff Wayne and trying to go for his book at his side. He was met with the business end of a gun, hitting him in the shoulder that was bending to reach for the book. He looked to him and tried to speak, but the words couldn’t cut through to the Sheriff, he had moved on to the next prisoner escaping, trying to scan for Una.

And there she was- standing at the stables with her crew. Two of them up astride the horses looking down. “What are you doing? People are going to get killed.” the voice he uses for the Sheriff is booming- deeper than his normal cadence. It’s an attempt to make himself more intimidating, and it usually works, but not for her.

She pushes away from her crew- the dark haired boy looks to the Sheriff and- it gives him a stop. He’s looking at him like he’s already a corpse, and he looks pitying about it. Like he’s never seen something more destined to happen. Trish pushes past people on her walk over, and the boy whispers with a voice that Bruce can almost hear- “You need to run.”

“How long?” Trish shouts over the crowd, and it parts for her, as if a ravine was cut from her to the Sheriff. “How long have you been in charge?”

The question is absurd to him- but he answers. “Four years. I’ve been here four years “ The weight of tose years sit on him- but he’s done the best he can in that time. There is so much evil in this world and he’s just one man. He says as much, but Trish narrows her eyes. She’s not listening anymore.

She asks him another question- a non-sequitor. “What sound does a train make?”

“What the hell are you talking about? Look- just help me get everyone under control here and you and your friends can walk free. Just stop wha-”

A gunshot cuts him off. His eyes dart down to the growing red on his chest, and then back over to Trish, who was holding her signature revolver, with a rose gold inlay to give it that pink sheen. She fires again, and again, and again- and when she empties that one she reaches to her other holster and pulls out a reddish gun that has had whatever inscriptions and markings shaved clean by a nail file. She unloads all 12 bullets into Bruce and flips the cylinder out, letting the empty casings drop to the ground.

He’s frozen in place, slowly falling backwards. He sees the boy with the bowlcut reach to the girl and the two of them share a nod, and leave on horse back in separate directions like they’re the only things moving at a normal speed. Trish turns her head and sees that they’ve left- beginning to run back through the crowd to her other crew member who’s still standing there. Her last crew member.

He hits the ground and sees the sky- letting his last breath out of his lungs. He sees a woman step over him and reach down to grab his hat off his body- the hat that used to be hers.

[strawberrybyers]

convinced that when mike and will both tell each other about how “it’s been a year, mike!” and “the truth is is the last year has been weird” isn’t in the context of talking only about the byers move to california. considering the byers haven’t lived in california for a year, then obviously they aren’t only talking about the move. you know what has been going on for a year though? mike and el dating.

mike and el started dating in season 2 at the snowball dance in december of 1984 and we catch up with their relationship in season 4 in march of 1986. this is when mike and will both bring up how the last year has been weird and they have felt disconnected from each other. i know we have theories on time being weird and everything, but i don’t think the use of the word “year” is to hint at a screwed up timeline, but to hint that el and mike’s relationship for the past year has been a problem between mike and will’s friendship and the relationship they have with themselves. they’re both feeling disconnected from each other and in season 3, their rain fight literally shows how el begins to get in between them.

it would make sense for will to feel like mike hasn’t been as connected to him as before because in season 3 he literally expresses that in their argument! will just wants to play d&d and have his friend pay attention to him, but mike is too focused on el. mike then mentions in season 4 when they’re talking that he was “too focused on el” and relates that as a contribution as to why things have been weird between him and will. i say that throughout the past year for mike he feels it’s been weird not only because within that space of time will moved, but because he realizes that he is in fact in love with will, or at least acknowledges that what he feels for will is not what he feels for el. this explains why he wouldn’t really call or write to will, but spent most of his time writing el because that was a way for him to convince himself that he is attracted to el. hence why when will questions mike on him not writing him, mike’s immediate defense is “we’re friends. we’re friends”. just like when will calls out mike on not being a good friend and only focusing on el, mike hits him with the “it’s not my fault you don’t like girls”. like bro, your responses have absolutely nothing to do with what will is trying to communicate to you!! anyways, the problem now is that el catches on to how he actually feels because he writes “from, mike” instead of “love, mike”. he then can’t even defend why he does it except for telling el she’s “ridiculous” and that “mouth breathers” are the problem. once again, mike is not addressing the issue at hand.

so yeah, mike and will express that their relationship has been disconnected and weird for a year, not because of only the move to california, but because mike being in love with will while dating el is not working for him and el, therefore, his actions then affect will and their friendship.

[expatesque]

Well ladies (gn), it might have been unexpected but funemployment isn't starting off too bad.

[ikaishere]

so, about the hyrule and legend modern!au meetup story...... its the stupidest thing I ever came up with, so proud of myself. have a short drabble!

"No, but Wild, he is a total creep though! Wait, hold on. I will call you back in a sec."

There he was again. The same customer that has been coming to this godforsaken gas station, that Hyrule worked at, to get hot dogs in the middle of the night, on random days, for the past four months.  At this point, he could count this person as one of the very few constants in his life. Every week he was sure the sun would still be shining, Karens would scream at his coworkers, and the hotdog customer would never fail to appear.

He didn't even know their name! All he knew about them was their appearance, the sauce they always chose, and a person named "Ravio" they would sometimes be on the phone with. Of all the weird things he would expect, he certainly did not expect the parasocial attachment to the hotdog customer (supposedly, that was their name now…). If he focused too much on it, he would probably understand he would actually get worried if a week would pass and the person would not show up. But now it was not the time to focus on it. Now he had a customer. “Hello, what can I help you with?” He mumbled his usual greetings, a little less cheerful than usual. It was past midnight, after all. Instead of a “Hi” or even a “Good night”, a pack of baby diapers was put on the counter. Who the heck buys baby diapers, at a gas station in the middle of nowhere, at midnight- Of course the fucking hotdog customer. Of course, it was them. “Uh- the usual to go with it?” Hyrule asked, a bit awkwardly. They looked a bit too young to be having a kid, but then who was he to judge it? It did not even have to be their kid. “The usual?” They asked as if it was the weirdest thing they’d ever asked. “What do you mean, the usual?” “The usual you buy here at least once a week since… 4 months?” Hyrule raised an eyebrow, resisting the urge to giggle silently. They looked so lost. “I mean- yeah. The usual. Thank you.” They smiled fondly, looking around at whatever the store had to offer. “Do you maybe have painkillers? Or like- a chocolate?”

“That’s a… weird variety.” Hyrule giggled, finally.

“Hey! I wanted to be a good boyfriend. Painkillers will be useful, and I mean, chocolate would cheer me up if id menstruate. I think”

“Wait. Menstruate- are you buying baby diapers for a menstruating person?” There it was, the breaking point. He burst out laughing, behind the counter of a gas station store, in front of a random stranger - or well, not random. The hotdog customer.

“What? No! I-” the person looked over the counter, blushing almost immediately. “Fuck. Do you have sanitary pads as well, then? Stop laughing!”

“I’m sorry, I’m- oh my god, if my manager saw that, I’d be so fired-” Hyrule finally calmed down a little, getting all three things they asked for from the shelves, and scanning them when he was back at his place. “You just- you come in here, at goddess forbidden hours, only to buy a hotdog. And now you- Apologies. I’m done.”

“No- you are right. That’s fucking weird.” they laughed quietly as well “I just always came here after work, and there are days when I work over hours, so, yeah. And now my partner asked me to get him pads, and god damn, that looks like I'm a guy who has never seen sanitary products- it’s not like that, promise.”

“Hey! Not judging, I get it. Kind of you to think abut ways to make them comfortable. It’s the thought that matter.” his voice went soft, as he was still preparing the goddess-damned hotdog. For a while silence filled the room in between them, but all of the sudden, it seemed like courage struck both of them at the very same moment.

“What’s your name?” they both asked at the same time, laughing loudly as their eyes locked together.

That began a beautiful friendship, as they would later learn. Even if Legend would ever deny that he mistook baby diapers for sanitary pads, and even if Hyrule claimed it was several hours later than it actually happened.

[cannibalsrider]

royal au! yachi x fem! reader and Yachi is a daughter of noble birth who was made to be a lady in waiting to the princess and heir to the throne due to the king feeling as if his daughter needed to broaden her circle of friends because she had always been seen more in the eyes of the church more than she was in court. It became a routine for her and Yachi to go to the church together to light candles the only sounds being heard were the footsteps of the nuns working at their tasks in the same room as the altar for the gods their kingdom for centuries had been known to worship as if it was burnt into the people's souls passed through each house more shown then the word of their ancestor's. Lady Hitoka had grown close with the princess it was like the poets wrote of the two soulmates even if it wasn't meant to be as a man and wife would be as if they had been born to be like the tale Adam and Eve the universe deriving from their souls. the flickering lights of the lit candles sitting in front of them each sent as an offering to the Maiden, The warrior and the many gods alike remind the pair that the love they hope to share would never be accepted the gut-sinking feeling of shame and self-loathing would never leave the ladies and that they had been born to bear the guilt of how they chose to love that they would be the shame of their houses to forever disgrace the names they had been born to "my lady if I could speak plainly?" lady hitoka had asked her voice had seemed so uncertain when speaking to the princess "you know you are always welcome to my lady" yn had responded back her voice always seemed to carry such a kind tone when speaking to the daughter of her fathers closest advisor "if you had been born of lower standings what would you have wished to become?" the blonde asked her kind eyes barley wanting to meet yns the rings on her hands had a faint glimmer of the jewels in the fires gaze It in a way reminded yn of herself and lady hitoka a flame drawn to watch the jewels in front of her for the rest of time "I believe id wish to have been a dragon handler they always seem to interest me just with the ideas of dragons being closer to the gods than any man" she responded hands clasped together in front of her in lady hitokas opinion the princess had reminded her of the former queen alysanne was her name? it had always been so fuzzy to her the memories of the former king and queen all she truly wished to remember was the times she and the princess would run the long halls of the large keep that yn was to inherit at the time of her father's demise in lady hitokas heart she hoped to know she would always be by the side of the princess it was always them never any other court lady or lords finding the attention of the princess the two of them finding comfort within the arms of each other it was the testament of their relationship to be forever doomed into remembering the notion they would never be able to rid themselves of the touch of each other the feel of the others hands against their skin the memories that they had sinned and that they would never be pure in their souls again as they sat there the only light flickering being the glimmer of the orange crackling flames of the candles set in a circle on the alter "it wont be the same" yn blurted out after no thoughts came to her she was to be married in less then four weeks it was bound to reach the ears of her head lady in waiting some day soon but she wanted to be the one to say it not having her hear it from another "what wont be the same princess?" she responded her voice always was too kind for yn to bear in the worst moments its like her heart was shattering over and over again at each word "i am to be married" yn told her not even trying to make eye contact with lady hitoka

mood board kinda cus i want yall to understand the vibes because I finished this after being told to write Doomed Yuri

[platinumshawnn]

Not me refreshing your page the whole day for a new chapter of Bound by blood. I’m too excited aaaaa✨✨✨

It will probably be out this weekend bc I am an absolute joke and am really trying to edit this chapter as best I can, as my last post kind of shows!!! I am hoping for Sunday morning 🫶

Edit: I ALSO WANT TO ADD this chapter isn’t even done and is already at like 10k words so it will be a long one for you!!!

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

Part 6!! Steddie Vegas AU. This one is long and so so stupid. Apologies in advance.

Part 1 -- Part 2 -- Part 3 -- Part 4 -- Part 5

The drive to Rachel was perfect. Minimal traffic, clear blue skies, the wind flowing through his hair and Eddie's hand in his. Thrilling in the way Eddie played with his fingers tapping out the beat of the songs and absentmindedly twisting his wedding band as he crooned along with the gentle jazz, soul and blues of the fifties that drifted through the speakers; seemingly unaware he was even doing it until the girls joined in. 

Steve knew better than to get involved, he'd never been able to hold a tune, but good ol' Frank was infectious, and by the fourth verse all four of them were belting out My Way. He knew he must have sounded awful but his carmates didn't seem to mind, they were all beaming with unadulterated joy, the girls collapsing into the backseat giggling together at the silly car insurance advert that was on its twelfth circulation, their elation contagious. 

He couldn't help but wonder how he'd ever made it this far in life without having this kind of moment every day, couldn't stop himself from pondering how he'd ever manage to live without it because he couldn't remember ever having a more wonderful morning, and he couldn't imagine ever having one again without these beautiful people to brighten his every moment, but he couldn't stop thinking that he had to keep grounding himself; couldn't keep from reminding himself that they were on holiday that this would eventually end, and he'd have to remember how to smile without it being because Chris was making Robin's eyes light up or because Eddie's voice was floating through the air, close enough to reach his ears.

The drive felt like it took no time at all, between the tinkling of pianos and laughter and the endless beauty of landscapes, the sun was already high in the sky by the time they arrived. They hadn't been out of the car for long before he was thanking his lucky stars that he'd chosen to wear his white linen trousers and pale blue cotton shirt because it was at least doing something to stave off the blistering heat, but Robin had definitely regretted her decision to wear all black. He wasn't sure whether it just felt hotter than on The Strip or whether the temperature was actually higher, but it was definitely warmer than either he or Robin had expected it to be; he couldn't believe he'd packed jackets, he didn't think even the darkest clouds could stifle the heat of the sun scorching the desert.

She didn't last more than half an hour before she was begging Steve to "do something!" The only thing he could think to do in the middle of nowhere was to borrow Eddie's penknife to turn her dark jeans into shorts. Of course, she then bemoaned that they had been brand new and "did they not know about malaria?!" even as he spread sunscreen liberally over her pasty calves, wordlessly handing her the bug spray out of the backpack, returning her grateful smile with a reassuring one of his own.

Chrissy, as it turned out, knew a lot about malaria; her stepdad had actually had it along with a myriad of other tropical diseases from his stint in the military before he'd met Chrissy's mum and when he learned of Chrissy's desire to go into medicine he'd told her all about it. It'd swung her career path toward pathology, then to biomed, but her mother wouldn't hear of it, telling her that girls didn't belong in science. Chrissy had ended up waitressing at the country club while she was waiting to pick a career path, then like Eddie had gone into the Carver family business, selling silverware because godforbid the snooty bastards have a waitress and a mechanic in their family.

The detour conversation seemed to have its desired effect, Robin was officially distracted from her spiral down tropical disease lane and Eddie and Chrissy earned themselves some much-desired and much-deserved PDA for their hardship, not that it could actually qualify as PDA when there wasn't another soul to be seen for miles around, not a human soul anyway, although Steve was sure the local reptiles had bigger problems than four queers canoodling.

So despite the mishap with her brand-new jeans, Robin did end up having the time of her life like Steve had hoped, really getting into the Area 51 atmosphere and treating the three of them like she was their personal tour guide, taking them to rarer sights, rattling off facts and telling endless stories. In all the time they'd known each other, Steve had never seen her smile so much, especially the few times she refused to stop for breath, when Chrissy would stop her rambling with a kiss that Robin pulling away from with a dreamy far off look, completely forgetting what it was that she'd been telling them.

He was actually quite impressed with himself when he'd actually managed to capture the moment on camera, immortalising Robin's "sorry this person is unavailable, please leave a message" look on film. That, as well as a couple of hundred other photos, the many opportunities to capture their adventure permanently being a major highlight of the trip because as beautiful as Rachel was, it didn't hold a candle to his three companions; Robin overjoyed with her destination, Chrissy overjoyed with Robin and Eddie, well, Steve didn't want to presume, but he liked to hope he'd had an enjoyable experience, the beaming smile on his face suggested he did.

Steve knew his luck wouldn't last, though, and it wasn't long before Robin insisted on taking his photo; they were standing on an obscure bit of road, signposted by a random boulder that was apparently distinguishable from all the other random boulders surrounding them. Robin demanded Steve was in the photo with said boulder, and as much as he was panicking, who was he to dampen her enthusiasm? Except he quickly realised he didn't really know what to do with himself because other than school portrait photos or the odd family-style holiday-card kind his mother organised, no one had ever really taken his picture before.

He'd felt incredibly lost as he'd stood awkwardly by the rock, but his sweet Eddie, his wonderful mind-reading Eddie, quickly came to his rescue. He and Chris had been dorking around cha cha chaing on the tarmac singing to Love Is Strange, which had been the last song they'd heard on the radio before Steve had cut the Cadillac's engine. Not even breaking character or their bit, Eddie telepathically checked with Robin that it was okay, boxstepping towards Steve as Chrissy called "Sylvia!" 

Eddie paused, looking coyly over his shoulder at his best friend, "Yes, Mickey?" he asked, resuming his slow movement toward Steve.

"How'd you call your loverboy?" Chris asked, waggling her eyebrows at Steve.

Eddie paused and pretended to think of an answer before shouting, "C'mere loverboy!" grinning smugly at Steve and beckoning him with a curled finger.

"And if he doesn't answer?" Chrissy asked.

Eddie put both his hands over his heart, fluttering his eyelashes, "Oh, loverboy!" he called flirtatiously.

Chrissy was grinning so widely and so indelibly, she had to bite her lip in order to ask, "And if he still doesn't answer?"

Eddie skipped the rest of the way to Steve, wrapping his arms around Steve's waist, looking up at him through his lashes, "I simply say. Baby!" Eddie sang, wiggling his hips to the guitar only Eddie could hear, trailing his way around Steve, sticking his chin over his shoulder, "Oh baby!" he crooned. Switching to his other shoulder and kissing his flushed cheek, "My sweet baby! You're the one," Eddie finished, snuggling into Steve's back like nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Like he was just waiting for Robin to take their photograph, like he hadn't just serenaded him and rocked Steve's world, like Steve wasn't grinning like a buffoon, like he wasn't blushing from head to toe, like Steve's heart wasn't racing faster than was probably wise out in the desert and all Steve could do was shake his head, sharing a look with a bewildered Robin that said, did that really just happen?

And Steve might've been in a state of shock, but he still couldn't help relaxing into Eddie's grasp, interlinking their fingers around his waist, because Eddie may be a ridiculous man who did weird enactments of songs that no one else could hear, but he was Steve's ridiculous man. 

Robin finally managed to come back to herself enough to bring the camera back up to her eyes, Eddie smiling infectiously in Robin's direction, yelling a drawn out "Cheeeeeese!" 

Steve heard more than saw Robin snap the picture because he was too busy just staring at the awe at the crazy, goofy man that was his husband, and he knew he must've had the gooiest eyes in the photo because Robin snapped out of her stupor enough to start faux gagging, demanding they take another she could actually stand to look at.

Of course, the next one Eddie kissed him on the cheek causing Robin to complain loudly, then he'd spun Steve around to stare lovingly into his eyes and the next one getting ruined was Steve's fault because Eddie couldn't just act like that and look at him with that look in his eyes without getting kissed senseless, Steve feeling slightly better about his reaction to Eddie's performance when Eddie looked rather dazed as Steve eventually pulled away. 

Chrissy, probably sensing Robin's frustration, stepped in at that point, before the camera got thrown at the newlyweds or Robin's head actually exploded, yelled a sharp "Eddie!" which seemed to bring him crashing back down to earth. He looked over at the girls then down at the rock and suggested, "Piggyback?" Steve shrugged and spun around, so Eddie could climb onto his back, but Eddie just called him a silly goose in the gentlest tone, hoisting Steve into his arms, holding Steve bridal style, and Steve had never in his life been so thankful to be a Disney Princess.

He spent the whole day in a general state of bafflement, Steve had never been with someone so openly affectionate before, not just in a physical sense, meaning that Steve and the girls were often covered in flurries of hugs and kisses whenever the mood seemed to strike him. But Eddie was emotionally affectionate as well, and not just with him and the girls but with perfect strangers, too. There were times throughout the day when Steve just couldn't tear his eyes away, his heart soaring, his cheeks aching with the effort of smiling for so long because Eddie was just like a walking ray of sunshine, exuding a joy that made everyone around him feel warm and elated.

Steve knew they must've taken hundreds of pictures, each of them taking their turn behind and in front of the lens, photographs taken with landscapes and bits of debris and a lizard Eddie had named Chico who Steve had to admit was a pretty cool dude; he didn't try to eat anyone's toes and when he flicked his tongue out to lick the tattoo on the back of Eddie's ear (that Steve could only assume Chico thought was a fly) Eddie pulled the cutest face Steve had ever seen. It was the same face little kids pull when a puppy licks them for the first time, and honestly, he could only hope the picture came out clear, because if not he would be buying Eddie a lizard when they got home, so they could replicate the experience.

They all took plenty of candids too, especially given Robin's hatred of posed photos, despite her forcing the other three into a mix of terrible stock photo poses, there were photos of laughter when someone said something funny, and the adorable face Chrissy pulled whenever she was listening to Robin talk, pictures of Eddie attempting a cartwheel when Chrissy inadvertently started a competition, Robin sticking her tongue out in concentration as she attempted to follow the white line in the road perfectly, the look of adoration on her face when she inevitably fell and Chrissy knelt by her side to check she was okay, photos covered in sunscreen when Steve had accidentally got a blob on Robin's cheek while he'd been rubbing it into Eddie's neck, inadvertently causing a sun lotion war.

They took best friend photos and coupley shots, Eddie even managed to get a couple of professionally posed photographs of Robin and Chrissy with both of them actually grinning or laughing down the lens. And the more Eddie made them laugh and smile, the more he used his natural ability to capture it forever without making Robin pull her grimace photo face, the more endeared Steve became. Chrissy of course took one look at Steve watching Eddie and insisted on taking their picture, and honestly, wrapped around his husband or having Eddie wrapped around him made being in front of the camera a lot less painful than it'd once been.

In the end, they ran out of films for the camera, Area 51 ran out of attractions and Robin ran out of stories to tell, and suddenly they were all just kinda hungry, Chrissy emphasising the point when her stomach rumbled loudly. And as luck would have it, the closest place was a diner that happened to be run by believers. 

Fascination was always a good look on Robin, and amazingly the owners, Betty and her husband John, had a few stories she hadn't heard before. Just the fact that she was actually sitting still told Steve she was listening intently, long before she started asking more questions than either Betty or John had time to answer.

Chrissy seemed to just be basking in the glow of a captivated Robin, only snatching her eyes away when they were joined by other people, other believers who'd heard their conversation and wanted to join in. Steve marvelled at his three companions' ability to hold three separate conversations from the same table. He knew he personally had nothing to contribute, but that was fine with him, that just meant he could sit and listen and watch their brilliance in awe. 

Eddie was grinning wildly as he chatted with an older man who looked a little like a thin Santa named Phil, and Steve couldn't tear his eyes away, he didn't think he'd seen Eddie stop smiling once all day, not that Steve was complaining of course, he was ecstatic he was having a good time and was delighted to learn that the uncle who raised him was a believer as well and that Eddie was excited to take all their new stories home to him as Phil regaled Eddie with his own personal experience with Martians.

They'd stayed late, mainly because Chrissy had this uncanny ability to make friends with anyone and everyone. Steve could've sworn they must've got to know everyone in a fifty mile radius by the time the summer sun fell below the blinds, lighting the diner in golden hues. They'd heard and shared so many stories, that these people who'd been strangers just a few short hours before suddenly felt like friends, so much so, it felt hard to leave them. 

The foursome had to be literally ushered out the door by Betty, insisting that they take the picnic she'd made for them and go down to the summit to enjoy the sunset. Steve smiled as he waved goodbye as he drove them out of the parking lot even though it brought with it an intense feeling of sadness; a few hours in the grand scheme of things was no time at all but the diner patrons had made them feel like part of the family and the fact that he knew deep down that he'd probably never see any of them ever again just dug a hole in his heart.

The drive down to Coyote Summit was as short as Betty had promised, but she had been absolutely right, it was definitely worth it. The climb to the top wasn't difficult, even laden with enough food to feed a small army and the view from the top, honestly, it was nothing short of spectacular. Just a vast nothingness for as far as the eye could see all around them, it felt like being the only people in the universe, just them and the slowly setting sun. 

Between the four of them they got organised pretty quickly, the girls had pulled the beach towel out of the backpack and laid it out on the rough surface for them to sit on, Eddie lounged against the formation, leaving room for Steve to settle into the v of his legs, the bags of food between him and Robin within easy reach for all of them. Resting his head on Eddie's shoulder, Steve sighed contentedly, it'd been a long but glorious day, and he hadn't felt peace like this in a long time, especially when Eddie wrapped his arms around his middle, pressing a distracted kiss into his temple. 

Chrissy was happily curled under Robin's arm, the two of them chatting animatedly with Eddie, retelling the stories from the diner that the other two had missed, but Steve had already heard them and between the vibration of Eddie voice and laugh, and the serenity of their surroundings, Steve's body was being lulled into a deep sense of relaxation he hadn't felt since his last spa day.

A tranquil silence settled over the four of them, as the sky lit up in stunning pastel colours, leaving them to merely observe the beauty of nature. He'd taken Nancy up Weathertop once upon a time because he thought she'd find the sunset romantic, and she had, it was one of the few times a date with her hadn't ended in a raging argument, and it was nice, but it could never compare to a Nervada desert evening. Weathertop had been like puppy love, but the Summit was something indescribable, something like joy, like peace, like love.

Steve sighed contentedly and laced his fingers with Eddie's, pulling his arms tighter around himself, Eddie quickly taking the hint and dragging Steve closer. So close, he could feel Eddie's heartbeat against his back, the steady rhythm matching his own. So close, Eddie could tuck his chin over Steve's shoulder, the bits of Eddie's hair that had strayed from their tie tickling his face and neck. So close, all he could hear and smell and taste and touch was Eddie, all intermingled with something so ordinary yet extraordinary as the setting sun. 

He knew that it was a moment he'd never be able to forget, that from then on every time he saw the sun he'd think of sitting under the desert sky with his husband.

Husband! Steve thought gleefully, distractedly kissing Eddie's cheek.

It got dark faster than Steve had expected it to, but it was a night of a new moon, so the soft pastels turned quickly to a deep indigo and then an inky black interspersed by the blanket of stars, tiny diamonds twinkling for as far as the eye could see. The majesty of the universe sat before their very eyes, making him feel simultaneously like a giant in the silence of an empty desert and like he was no bigger than a speck of dust. 

It wasn't like it didn't get dark enough in Hawkins to see the stars, he just couldn't honestly say he'd ever bothered to take the time to look, not like this. And seeing it, really seeing it, for the first time, safe in Eddie's arms, felt as close to heaven as he thought he'd ever get.

Steve wasn't sure how long they stayed there staring at the sky. They had talked for a while, Eddie pointing out constellations, murmuring mythical legends into Steve's ear. Robin eventually dragging the two boys into their quiet discussion of what the world would be like in five years time; a philosophical discussion that turned into hushed admissions of hopes and dreams for their own futures, of childhood career aspirations, of growing up with the two-point-four ideal and the realisation that that wasn't their destiny, of first kisses and heartbreaks and gay awakenings.

It was only when something howled too close for any of their liking that they gathered their things and headed home. Steve as thrilled as he was the first time to be back behind the wheel of the Cadillac with Eddie, wrapped in Steve’s hoodie, his hand grasped in his own. They were barely ten minutes into their journey, when Steve glanced in the rearview mirror to see Chrissy fast asleep on Robin's shoulder, only the depths of the darkened landscape keeping Robin alert, her hopes of seeing something stronger than her desire to nap, her denim jacket draped over them both.

He couldn't help smiling to himself, he knew his best friend was in love, there was no other explanation for her behaviour because as much as she enjoyed affectionate she also liked her own personal space, normally Robin would’ve laid her girlfriend gently against the window of the car or the arm of the couch if they fell asleep on her, but she was perfectly content with Chris curled into her side, drooling on her new Metallica t-shirt that she'd got from the concert the night before. 

The radio was on but at a much lower volume than the drive there, the songs had changed from the fifties to the sixties, sad country songs finding their way into the soulful mix reminding him of quality time with Hop. Eddie had started off the journey singing quietly, almost to himself, which slowly transitioned to humming along, Eddie eventually going silent altogether, Steve glanced over to see why he'd stopped, wondering if he'd nodded off upright, but he was just staring out the window, silent and almost pensive, holding Steve's hand so tightly that Eddie's rings were digging into his skin, effectively cutting off the circulation to his last two fingers. 

What A Wonderful World drifted through the speakers, Steve squeezed Eddie's hand gently and began to mutter the lyrics under his breath along with the music, glad that Louis didn't make him sound too much like a squawking parrot; stealing another quick glance at his husband, pleased to see him smiling and mouthing the lyrics back at him. It didn't last though, the song changed and Steve could feel Eddie staring at the side of his face, almost like there was something on it or like he was trying to imprint it in his memory. He thought about joking that a photo would last longer but thought better of it when he glanced over and saw the look of devastation on Eddie's face, he looked like he was about to cry.

"Y'okay?" Steve murmured, squeezing Eddie's hand twice in quick succession which seemed to snap Eddie out of it because when Steve chanced another glance at him, he was grinning at Steve, but it just didn't quite meet his eyes, and it might've fooled someone else, but Steve knew something was amiss.

"Never better," Eddie muttered, lifting Steve's hand to kiss his knuckles just over his wedding ring. Steve knew it was a lie, but he didn't want to call Eddie out or start an argument after the amazing day they'd had, he just had to hope Eddie would talk to him when he was ready. All Steve could do was cling on, pulling their hands to his lips and kissing the back of his hand, and hope everything would be okay.

The drive back from a destination always seemed shorter for reasons Steve never understood, but it didn't seem to take long before they swapped the light of the stars for the lights of The Strip; the evening just barely starting in Sin City even though it had long since gone dark. Eddie asked if they could eat before heading back to the hotel; they’d enjoyed their picnic, but that had been a few hours ago and when Steve saw a shining golden M lighting up the sky, he had a sudden craving for burgers. 

Upon his carmates agreement, he pulled into the car park, already mourning the loss of driving his beloved Cadillac but enjoying the chance to finally stretch his legs, except the restaurant was loud and hectic, filled with merry revellers and being surrounded by the banality of hen dos and 21st birthday parties just felt wrong. In the fluorescent lights Steve could see how dead on her feet Robin looked, her eyes were red whether from straining or crying, he wasn't sure, but he knew the last thing she needed was idiotic chaos. Eddie didn't look much better, and Chrissy looked like she wanted to tear herself in two to take care of them both.

Crowding the other three back towards the door, Steve said, "Go back to the car, I'll get dinner." Feeling the appreciation of his companions in their grateful smiles, "What does everyone want?" Steve asked, trying his hardest to remember their muttered orders before they disappeared back outside. Steve ordered their dinner then nipped into the bathroom, washing his hands and splashing cold water on his face. He was exhausted and worried about Eddie and Robin but knew getting stressed wouldn't help any of them. Sighing heavily, he waded through the mania, collecting their food and heading back to the car, getting to enjoy the night air, being in the other's company and Elvis' soulful voice floating through the radio. Almost feels like we're back in the sixties.

Steve sat twisted in his seat, tangling his legs with Eddie's in the footwell, his arm thrown over the back of the seat, so he could keep an eye on Robin. Not that she was paying any of them any attention, she was just staring at the food in her lap, deep in thought. Steve knew better than to interrupt her, but Chrissy's concern was written across her features as she tried to stealthily catch his attention. He raised his eyebrows questioningly and when she flicked her eyes at Robin he could tell she was asking if her being so quiet was normal, which was fair, other than sleep, Robin rarely stopped speaking. Steve didn't think he'd ever known her to be quiet for two solid hours before, but they’d shared a lot back at the summit and over the years he'd found that heavier conversations tended to take it out of her. He couldn't know for sure what exactly was going on in Robin’s head, but he knew she'd let him know as soon as she had it figured out.

He smiled as reassuringly as he could at Chrissy, trying to let her know that it'd be fine, that Robin was probably just processing, and she'd be back with them when she was ready. And the spooky thing was Chrissy seemed to understand him, sighing in relief, she sagged back into her seat, letting all the tension out of her body as she glanced around, soaking in the atmosphere. Up until a few days ago the only person Steve had ever been able to wordlessly communicate with was Robin, he always assumed it was because they were soulmates, two halves of a whole, sharing one brain most of the time, but both Chrissy and Eddie had managed to understand Steve and at times he'd been able to understand them too, and it made him wonder if maybe they weren't halves at all but quarters. 

Eddie had noticed their silent conversation and smiled gratefully at Steve, taking his hand to kiss each of his knuckles, then the back of his hand, then up his arm, getting grease and salt all over his skin. Robin finally looking up and giggling at Eddie's antics, some of the sparkle coming back into her eyes, Steve pulling Eddie closer, so he could kiss him on the forehead, smiling appreciatively at the love of his life.

He'd never had a partner who cared as much as Eddie did, who made life fun, who was willing to be silly just to make someone smile, and honestly, Steve couldn't quite believe he was real sometimes. Just the amount of tiny things Eddie had been doing in the short time they'd been together that made Eddie so perfect, he just blew Steve's mind and by this point, he was under no illusions, he was already head over heels in love.

He was on the verge of freaking out about the consequences of that particular realisation when Robin broke his train of thought, "Evie!" she singsonged.

Parking his emotional crisis until later, he gave his best friend his undivided attention, "Yes, Bobs?" he asked.

Robin looked so serious, he assumed she was about to tell a joke. It was just what she did, like she had to think hard about something awful in order to get through the whole joke without bursting into hysterics. "I want a tattoo!" she declared, throwing Steve completely.

He wasn't sure where she was going, if she was joking or not, it was disconcerting. He blinked owlishly and with a nervous giggle said, "Okay?"

Of course, Robin didn't appreciate that, she scowled at Steve, "I mean now," she insisted.

Steve was surprised, it wasn't something she'd ever mentioned, and over the years they'd talked about near enough everything there was to talk about. The last thing he wanted her to do was to make a spontaneous decision on something so permanent, "Oh! Don't you have to research that kinda thing?" he asked, trying to make sure he sounded curious and not judgemental.

Robin wasn't fazed though, she just snorted, "Like you should research wedding venues?" she snarked.

Chrissy and Eddie burst into hysterics and all Steve could do was blush, fair point, "Touché!" he chuckled.

Eddie smiled gently at him, putting his hand on Steve's knee and reassuringly rubbing his thumb back and forth, "What're you after, Songbird?" he asked her.

Robin shrugged, "I dunno, lights? Stars? I want it here," she explained, showing Eddie the inside of her middle finger, "So something small, y'know?"

-----------------------------

Eddie nodded intrigued, looked excitedly at Chrissy and exclaimed, "Don't worry, I know just the place!"

Part 7

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