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ladykailitha · 28 days ago

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The Hellfire Exotic Club Part 9

Hey guys! Last week was a bit rough on all the chapters. So I'm hoping things pick up this week.

In his we have Nancy being nosy and Steve and Robin accidentally stumble on a part of the mystery.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Robin and Steve were coming out of their appointment at the district attorney’s office when they spotted an unusual couple seating in the cafe across the street.

“Say, Robin,” Steve said tilting his head forward, “what say we try out that cafe today?”

At first Robin was confused then she spotted the duo, too. “You know, when you’re right, you’re right. I wonder if they pain au chocolats.”

“Oohh,” Steve said, rubbing his hands together. He loved those chocolate croissants as much as she did. “I wonder if they serve hot chocolate, too!” He liked coffee, but the mark of a good cafe in his opinion was their hot chocolate. The richer and darker the better.

They walked into the cafe. It was brightly lit and everything was in warm browns and bright yellows. Steve loved it immediately.

Turned out that not only did they have Robin’s pain au chocolats, they also had cheesecake by the slice. So Robin got her latte with her pain au chocolat and Steve got his hot chocolate with a slice a white chocolate raspberry cheesecake.

Then Steve and Robin sat down at table near their interesting couple and Robin turned on the record function on her phone with a wink, and then pulled a book out her purse and Steve pulled out his phone to scroll through social media.

They didn’t have to wait long before the couple said something stupid.

“What do you mean you’re not doing it anymore?” Billy hissed. “The goal was to get the new guy out.”

“Yeah,” Stella growled back. “To get your job back, but if I continue and that nosy bitch gets wind of it, we’ll both be out of job. Hell the whole club will be out of fucking job!”

“Tell me about it again,” Billy said with a heavy sigh.

So Stella went over the whole thing with Nancy and Jason again. “She rocketed to the top of journalism world in two short years, Billy. If she starts sniffing around and finds out about the attacks on Steve, she’ll blow up the whole joint without batting a single eyelash!”

“I thought you said they were exes or some shit,” Billy huffed. “Why the fuck does she still care for the guy? Like he’s not even that great of a dancer. He’s new and shiny, once the novelty wears off, people will slack off and Eddie will be begging me to come back.”

“Who knows,” Stella said, waving her hand dismissively. “But does that mean we can stop, at least until she writes her little article?”

“Yeah, baby,” he purred. “You can stop until the nosy little reporter get her rocks off and nothing happens, same as usual.”

Steve and Robin rolled their eyes as sounds of making out reached their eyes. Robin turned off her recording after making sure to get video of the two them kissing and giggling with each other.

Shortly after Billy and Stella left, probably to avoid getting kicked out for public indecency.

“So what do you think, Robs?” Steve said with a grin, “You think we should come back here more often?”

“Hell, yeah!”

“What do you mean you’re not going to do anything about it?” Steve protested. “I have evidence right there!”

“Steve...” Eddie said softly. “I get it. I do. But I want to catch them in the act, too. And if they’re gone to ground, then we wait them out. It’s hard. I know. You want justice and I do too, for you. But we have to play this smart. I’ll make copies of the recording and keep it safe. But let’s focus on keeping the club open so everyone still has jobs, yeah?”

Steve deflated and sat down hard in the chair. He put his hands between his legs. “I know the club is more important but to have that just fall in me and Robin’s lap. It just seemed like a sign you know?”

Eddie got up and walked around his desk. He knelt in front Steve and took his hand. “It is. It is exactly what we needed. We know who it is now. We can monitor them closely. Catch them in the act. But we have to tread carefully. Especially with Jason Carver and Nancy Wheeler teaming up to shut us down.”

Steve let out a shuddering breath and nodded. Eddie gently raised his head head by putting his fingers under the and gently raised it.

“Well get them good,” he promised. “But first tell me everything about Nancy Wheeler. I take you two were partners?”

Steve scoffed. “I was the only danseur who would put up with her diva attitude.” He shrugged. “Mainly because I could out bitch her. She was a talented ballerina, completely wasted on Indiana, but she didn’t want to leave her younger siblings when things were getting rough between their parents. It was a whole fucking mess.”

“You said that an understudy performed a leap wrong and that you got hurt?” Eddie murmured, squeezing Steve’s hand. “That must have been heartbreaking.”

“She lurched to the side,” Steve said, “and I pulled a muscle. And frankly I wasn’t heartbroken, I was relieved. I didn’t have to live up to other people’s expectations anymore.” He shrugged. “Did a couple of odd jobs like the ice cream shop where I met Robin. I stripped for a couple of years and made a decent amount of money, but the boss was a sleaze and would pay you based how willing you were to sleep with him. And since he was straight, you can imagine how that went.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh. “Oh, I know. Almost everyone of those people out there dancing for me have similar horror stories.”

“When we got the job at the rec center,” Steve continued, “we figured that it would be where we’d finally settle at. There were instructors there that had been there for ten years or more. We could finally make enough money for Robin to go to school and get her degree.”

“And then it fell apart.” Eddie was angry on their behalf. They shouldn’t have had the life they led. They were good people. “I’m really hoping that you and Robin will stay for as long as you need to.”

Steve smiled up at him. “For as long as these legs work, you’ve got me.” His breath caught when he realized how close they had gotten. Their breath mingled together. All he had to do was lean just a little more...

Then there was a sudden knock on the door. Eddie didn’t spring away, which Steve was grateful for, but he gave his hand a squeeze and stood up.

“Come in!” Eddie called, moving to lean against the desk as if he had been there the whole time.

Chrissy came in with a struggling Nancy Wheeler in tow. She pushed the journalist toward the second chair and closed the door tightly behind her. Chrissy sneered. “Look at who I found sniffing around the garbage bins.”

“Did you give her to Benny?” Eddie asked with a grin. “I’m mean if she’s dumpster diving for food, I’m sure we could persuade our cook to make up her something so she doesn’t starve.”

Nancy gave a disgruntled gasp at the very thought of her dumpster diving. “I beg your pardon!”

“Kinky,” Chrissy said wagging her eyebrows suggestively. “Who would have thought the princess was into BDSM?”

“I would never sink to the depths of depravity,” Nancy snapped, crossing her arms in front of her chest, “that you lot seem to sink to here.”

Steve shook his head. “I just don’t get it, Nance. You weren’t this militant about sex before. You weren’t a hippie by any means, but Jesus H. Christ, this is extreme.”

“If you would just walk away from this place,” she huffed, “maybe I wouldn’t have to push so hard. I’ve been hearing around that you’ve done pole dancing of some form since you left us, pretty much. You could have done anything with your craft but you chose to demean yourself by taking off your clothes for strangers!”

“Have you seen him strip?” Chrissy asked her honestly. “Because he’s good. I never got to see him do ballet, but he is sooo good at this.”

Nancy glared at her. “Of course I have,” she huffed. “Jason brought me here one night to show me what the depths this place sunk to. Everything was gaudy and over the top. Gold everywhere.”

Chrissy and Eddie shared a glance and then burst out laughing. Steve licked his lips as he tried to suppress a smile. He didn’t think he succeeded.

Nancy was looking at all of them in confusion. “What’s so funny?”

“You think Steve is a backup dancer?” Eddie asked wiping away a tear and holding his ribs with one hand. “Honey, he’s a headliner.”

Nancy glance back and forth between Steve and Eddie. “What are you talking about?”

“Oh Saturdays and Sundays,” Chrissy explained, “Steve is either part of the trio of co-headliners that include Eddie and me or his the main solo act. He’s Envy. And a damn fine one, too.”

“But why would you hire an outsider to fulfill a major spot like that?” Nancy huffed. “And why Steve? He was only the lead danseur because I insisted on it.”

“Fuck you too, Nance,” Steve spat. “I earned my place same as you. And if the director didn’t have a crush on you, you wouldn’t have been the lead in anything, your attitude notwithstanding.”

“Gross!” Nancy hissed, jumping to her feet. “You take that back! Murray Bauman did not have a crush on me. That’s disgusting.”

Steve rolled his eyes and crossed his legs. “Whatever helps you sleep at night, sweetheart.”

“If you’re out to get us closed down,” Eddie said, steering the conversation back around to the important part, his club, “you’ve got nothing. You’ve got worse than nothing. You’ve got hurt feelings and stubbornness that rivals God.”

“What about Steve falling off the stage?” she asked haughtily, looking down her nose at them. “It’s not safe, clearly!”

Steve snorted. “Like you actually care. Accidents happen.”

“Plus,” Chrissy said, tossing her hair over her shoulder, “one accident in God knows how long. I don’t remember a dancer having one in all the years I’ve been here. There’s always going to be accidents with patrons or wait and cooking staff. That’s inevitable.”

“You’re forgetting when Amy broke her leg,” Eddie said seriously. “That was about three years ago, though.”

Nancy eyes lit up at the idea of a morsel she could sink her teeth into. “Oh, yeah? What happened to her?”

Eddie and Chrissy shared a glance.

“Right,” Chrissy said, pushing Nancy toward the door. “I think that’s about enough of you. If you aren’t out of the parking lot in five minutes I’m having Eddie call the cops and hand them the recording of you snooping through our trash which is private property. Shoo!”

Nancy saw herself out and everyone breathed a sigh of relief.

“Fuck.”

Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14

Tag List: CLOSED

1-@mira-jadeamethyst @rozzieroos @itsall-taken @redfreckledwolf @zerokrox-blog

2- @gregre369 @a-little-unsteddie @chaosgremlinmunson @messrs-weasley @cryptid-system

3- @maya-custodios-dionach @goodolefashionedloverboi @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog

4- @justforthedead89 @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji

5- @anne-bennett-cosplayer @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1 @littlewildflowerkitten @genderless-spoon

6- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

7- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

8- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

9- @dreamercec @sadisticaltarts @too-much-tma-stuff @dolphincliffs @chameleonhair

10- @themoonagainstmers @gloomysoup @novelnovella @micheledawn1975 @garden-of-gay

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #dance club au

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multiverseworm · 5 months ago

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You know what? My current obsession is Master Chef, so… Here is how I picture that would go with the Batfamily.

MasterChef: Batfamily Edition

For obvious reasons - Alfred is the chef judge.

The competition gets one person eliminated each week. They get tested in skills such as chopping, cooking, baking, plating, problem solving, and other miscellaneous events.

There’s 10 participants and each week one gets eliminated from the competition until the master chef remains.

Participants:

Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Steph, Cass, Barbara, Kate and Duke.

Week 1 - Soups

As we enter the competition, all of the participants are expectant of what their fellow competitors are able to achieve.

The most experienced ones in the kitchen wanted to demonstrate their skills right away and set precedent so everyone else would know who to be afraid of.

Kate, Duke, Barbara and Dick demonstrating great abilities with their different kinds of soups and appetizers. However, seems like the billionaire really can’t have it all, and that includes kitchen skills.

Eliminated: Bruce Wayne.

Week 2 - Sandwiches

Easy enough one would think. Well, Steph and Tim fell out hard in this challenge since they had never made anything that didn’t involve PB&J.

Damian made an excellent comeback from last week’s match and demonstrated an exceptional performance with his cucumber sandwiches (the other participants don’t seem to be happy with this result since it seems favoured enough).

Eliminated: Tim Drake.

Week 3 - All things Eggs

As the weeks start to go by, each challenge starts to get more and more complicated and the participants are feeling it.

Kate and Barbara are still holding strong their top spots in the competition bringing Benedict eggs or a Croque Madam, but this week Jason surprised everyone with a perfect French omelette one could fine at a decent Gotham restaurant.

This week, two contestants had a rough week when they burnt or included cracked egg shells into their food.

Eliminated: Cassandra Cain.

Week 4 - Italian

For this week’s challenge, the contenders were allowed more freedom to choose their dish with the condition it had to be Italian cuisine.

Duke and Damian prepared similar dishes by preparing tomato pesto and basil pesto for their pasta. This caused a timeout imposed by the judge when the youngest Wayne unsheathed his sword. This will retract points from next week’s challenge.

Steph and Jason both prepared pizza but the burnt edges on Steph’s are not a good sign.

As usual, Barbara, Kate and Dick remain on top each with a different type of dish.

Eliminated: Stephanie Brown.

Week 5 - All things Potatoes

So many variations, so many uses. Potatoes were brought by the participants in very creative ways now that we are in the middle of the competition.

Damian won this week’s challenge with an effortless and exquisite scalloped potatoes. Who knew he had this much talent to cook in him?

However, repetitive and boring dishes cost the top to our usual favourites. Only one dish that was presented in the form of French fries left out judge sighing and not in a good way.

Eliminated: Jason Todd.

Week 6 - Bake Off Part 1: Cookies

Baking is the most difficult part of being a chef. And the contestants found out the hard way.

Barbara delivered some ginger cookies she used to bake every Christmas at home, putting her at the top of this week’s challenge.

Kate and Dick barely handled their cookies not crumbling all over the place. But our two last competitors lost track of time: one got the cookies in too early and the other got them out too late. Raw or burnt?

Eliminated: Duke Thomas.

Week 7 - Bake Off Part 2: Dessert

In this week’s challenge, freedom to choose was once again granted. The only condition was to prepare a dessert that needed baking.

Dick’s strawberry cheesecake won over the judge’s palate since this recipe is something he seems to prepare quite often for his partner at home.

Damian had a good week with an Arab recipe for a Harissa, while Barbara’s brownies were out of this world. Kate however, seemed to made the mistake of using salt instead of sugar.

Eliminated: Kate Kane.

Week 8 - Bake Off Part 3: Pastries

Remaining top three in this competition and the first of the last two challenges is here. One of the most if not the biggest challenge for a baker: pastries.

This challenge was met with the best results of the contest so far. All three pastries were made almost to perfection.

Damian decided to go for something simple but effective, a cream puff. While Dick chose a chocolate croissant and Barbara Classic Éclairs.

A minor technicality should about all of this should decide the final two. And that is, the croissant was not bathed with egg wash and therefore lacked glaze.

Eliminated: Dick Grayson.

FINAL WEEK - Worthy of a Gala Dinner

As our two finalists enter the final round of the competition, our judge congratulates all the past participants for their ability to NOT burn his kitchen in the process.

This week’s challenge is meant to be the most exciting and stressful of them all. Our two finalists have to prepare an entree, main course and dessert worthy of a Gala for the Wayne Foundation.

All these weeks have been a preparation for this.

Damian and Barbara went their different directions to get this done. Barbara going for a classic approach and Damian having to adjust his dishes to his vegetarian style.

Here are the final dishes prepared by each participant:

Damian Barbara

Entree Tabbouleh Antipasto platter.

(Middle Eastern salad)

Main Meat-free Moussaka. Creamy salmon with

(Middle Eastern dish) roasted potatoes.

Dessert Lemon Carlota. Tiramisu with ice cream.

Damian’s dishes are a clear result of his heritage, the love he has for it, and discipline to learn new abilities and skills like he was always taught. His start in this competition was bumpy, but after assessing his mistakes he knew what he needed in order to succeed.

Barbara’s dishes are the result of years of helping out around the house when his father had to stay extra hours helping Gotham and learning how to do things on her own. She maintained her top profile throughout the competition, defining how a good and deserving competitor looks like.

Both of them clearly deserve the title.

So, for this time, and this time only, the winner of MasterChef: Batfamily Edition is…

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shieldofiron · 1 year ago

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Hello

But what about Steve who got kicked out by his parents when he came out as bi and somehow made it to California and ends up doing sex work and finds it is something he is good at and having a huge dick is good for something for a change. He also does some high end escort work too cos he knows all the etiquette stuff, thanks to his upbringing.

He's got his regulars, men and women, and a little apartment and there's this golden guy who looks like a freaking god who goes past every morning on a run, super early, when Steve has a coffee on his balcony. Steve starts thinking about him when he's jerking off or when he's with clients, he can't help himself.

And then one day he shows up at this fancy hotel to be some rich guy's escort for the night and it's the guy he's been seeing run past his balcony every morning.

Mr Hargrove, CEO of something.

Anyway, that's what I was thinking about just now while I was waiting for you to tell me the super sad bit of your idea.

The request is kind of weird.

Normally people request him in lingerie, something filmy and sexy that frames his body. When it's not that it's suits, from a casual sports coat all the way to a tuxedo, and he keeps it all in his closet.

"You know what it means?" Angela's gum snaps on the phone.

"Green basketball shorts?" Steve scratched his temple, "Not really. I think I have some from high school."

"Well, if they're tight," Angela said, "And he said sneakers. High white socks."

Steve rolled his eyes, "Okay. Weirdo. Did he say anything about sex acts?"

"Anal," Her gum pops.

"No shit, it's a guy," Steve rolls his eyes.

"He just asked what you looked like, honestly. Wanted a guy with brown eyes, brown hair, real pretty," Angela clicked her long nails against the counter, "Other than the outfit he wasn't too talkative. Sexy ass voice. He requested you specifically. Got all perked up when I said the name. Stephan the King only."

Steve shrugged, "Okay. Whatever."

Most of the time he wasn't too concerned with what his clients wanted. He was flexible in more ways that one, happy to bottom or top or escort them to the opera or just listen. Most of the time, the job was just listening, even during sex. Finding out what people liked and being that came naturally to him. He was good at bullshit, as Nancy would say. He was a great hooker.

He'd made his job bullshit. He got paid an ungodly amount by the hour to spread his legs or spread someone else's, and he was good at it. Hooked up with an agency that specialized in high quality work, and kept the total weirdos away from him.

His roommate Jason Carver had a good hand with the weirdos anyway. He was always getting the odd calls where he had to dress up in costumes and came home to their apartment at odd hours, covered in weird substances, his legs shaky until Steve made him take a shower. Last night it had been grape jelly.

And so here Steve was, not covered in jelly, sitting in a plush hotel room in Malibu with his Hawkins high shorts pushed down his thighs, trying to finger himself and thinking about his favorite spank bank material.

Steve didn't know the guy's name, but he called him the runner. Always running at 5 am, long blonde curls streaming behind him. He looked like the models on the covers of those Johanna Lindsay romance novels, the practically-bondage porn that he'd devoured in high school during sleepless nights.

He imagined the running slowing down when he got to Steve's balcony, his bronze skin gleaming and his blonde beard hiding a devilish smirk.

The smirk may be borrowed... maybe the shorts have him remembering some other sleepless nights in high school.

Steve is loose, last night he was working with a couple, and so he's pretty stretched out, which means he can concentrate on just relaxing, brushing his fingers ever so softly over his prostate as he imagines the runner smirking, his voice a hazy blend of movie stars and devilish California drawling.

He kicks up his feet on the bed, working himself shamelessly in time with his finger's motions. He rolls the tip of his pointer over the small nub of his prostate while he works a fourth finger inside.

The alarm on his watch goes off and he makes a winded noise, halfway between a whine and a groan. He was just getting to the good part of the fantasy, where the runner would position him, ass up, over his tiny Venice balcony and eat him out like he was trying to make Steve cum before the dawning of the apocalypse. He would rub his face all over that golden beard, ride him like a stallion. Steve rode his fingers through one more wave, heat crashing down his spine, before he pulled out, tugging up his shorts over his painful erection and rushing to the bathroom to wash his hands and check his hair.

He didn't have to do all this prep but it made his job more enjoyable. Most clients didn't want to go through a lot of foreplay, obviously. But he did like coming too, and it wasn't like he was taking ten clients a night. Might as well have fun.

He was all positioned on the bed when the guy came in. Ready for the masc fantasy, legs spread, his arms on his knees. His dick was lewdly outlined by the tiny shorts, but he guessed they weren't going to the opera so that should be okay.

"In here," He called out, holding his breath until the guy came around the corner.

That devilish smirk fell right to pieces.

"Harrington," The man gasped, the word more breath than it was noise.

"Billy??"

"What are you doing here? Is it Max? Is she okay?" Billy's face is vulnerable, pale under his golden beard.

Steve thinks of the last time they'd seen him, driving off into the dead of the night while Max had cried. She'd begged for Steve's help to move Billy out, and the last he'd seen of Billy Hargrove it was just him chuffing Max on the chin, telling her to be brave.

"She's okay, I..." Steve shook his head, "I'm just here to meet a client."

"Client..." Billy ran a hand over his eyes, and then dropped it over his mouth.

"Yeah, sorry, they must have given me the wrong key at the front I'm supposed to meet-"

"Killian Handcock?"

Steve froze.

"Yeah," Billy sighed, "That's me."

"Oh."

"Yeah. Look, sorry for all this. I'll pay, of course, for your time," Billy began to dig in the pocket of his suit jacket.

"No, whoa, it's okay," Steve waved his hands, "It's okay."

"Obviously, you wouldn't-"

"We can still-"

Billy blinked at him.

"I just mean. It's fine, right. We know why we're here," Steve glances down at his outfit, "You really didn't know it was me?"

"Fuck," Billy dragged a hand down his face, "This is so fucking humiliating."

"No, really," Steve chuckled, "What high school crush am I supposed to be?"

The words are out of his mouth before he's fully able to think them through. It's all obvious later but in the moment, he's thinking of all the guys in their school with brown eyes... brown hair... real pretty...

Billy moves towards him, his face flashing angrily, and then he rears back, nearly slamming into the giant tv that dominates the far wall.

Startle response, Steve remembered from when Billy came back. If he so much as put his hands towards someone he would flinch, remembering what the Mind Flayer made him do.

Steve wasn't being a very good hooker. He wasn't listening. Wasn't thinking.

"You know," Steve sat back on the bed slowly, no quick movements. "I used to read these romance novels in high school. Kind of cheesy, definitely NOT always with the best consent. But... sometimes they'd have these tough guys, kind of take charge guys. And I used to imagine you... taking charge of me."

Billy just blinks at him like a deer caught in the headlights.

Steve spread his legs, just casually.

"Is that what you used to imagine too?" Steve asked.

"Maybe," Billy says in a cracked voice.

"Tell me," Steve urged.

It takes Billy a moment, fumbling with his fancy wool jacket. He hasn't flashed the cash yet, but Richard Harrington's son recognizes an expensive suit when he sees it. Billy's got the money to pay.

Not that Steve's thinking much about payment when Billy starts talking, in that movie star drawl.

"Wanted you to fuck me. Me to fuck you. Wanted to turn you inside out and shake you like pants at the laundromat," Billy whispered, "See what falls out."

Steve bit off a moan that wasn't practiced, wasn't planned. They haven't touched for years. Not since after Starcourt, careful touches around Billy's healing body, friendly, boyish nudges. Nothing like this.

"Wanted to touch you," Billy's face is so raw with longing, blue eyes sparking, it's almost hard to look at, "Touch you all up and down those long legs. Wrap you around me like a scarf. Keep me warm. Indiana's cold as shit and you always looked so warm."

Steve spread his legs further, "I run hot."

Billy reached back and undoes his hair, and it's only as it streams down his shoulders that Steve realizes, almost chuckling if it wasn't for the open, bare way Billy's looking at him. Like Steve is some kind of dream come true.

And the thing is that Steve's a happy hooker. He's not looking for any pretty woman ending.

But... you know sometimes he imagines. Imagines a guy with long blonde hair pulling him close after sex and calling him honey, baby, sweetness.

Billy takes a step forward and Steve smiles at him.

"I'm assuming you don't want me scared, or nervous," Steve runs a hand up his knee.

Billy shakes his head.

"Boyfriend experience," Steve offers, but it doesn't sound like a question, because he's not asking.

Billy's telling him, in the trembling hand that finally finds it's way to Steve's knee, the heavy swallow when Steve tips his head back, letting Billy into his space.

Steve knows. He's listening.

"This a... you have rules..." Billy's voice is gruff, low. Barely heard over the hum of the ac and the distant traffic from the street below.

"I kiss," Steve cocks his head to the side, "I do just about anything. For you."

He runs his hand over the back of Billy's, just tracing the road map of his veins. The long route that led them both here.

"Billy," Steve breathes.

It was just like he imagined Billy Hargrove would kiss. Hard and rough and desperate, like they were about to be ripped apart. Maybe they were, because Steve was clinging too, and it wasn't bullshit. He was shocked to find it was true, every word of it.

He fell open on the bed, half smothered by Billy's bulk, and he reveled in it, wrapping his legs around Billy and tugging him until his full weight pressed Steve to the bed.

Billy broke their kiss with a rough pant against Steve's lips, "Don't wanna crush you, Pretty Boy."

Steve urged, tugging Billy harder, "What a way to go."

Billy's laugh felt different close up, and his beard was softer than it looked, tickling Steve's face. His kiss was hot, and he sank into Steve like a hot knife through butter.

Steve was used to having to work himself up, he forgot what a revelation it was to just kiss. They rolled around together like they invented it, gasping at tugging nips and sucked tongues like they had never done this shit before.

Billy cradled his face like he was trying to memorize it, barely even dry humping him.

And Steve was losing it a little, because the boyfriend experience never felt like this. Never felt like years of knowledge and a "be brave, shitbird."

Never like this.

He undressed Billy like his life depended on it, running his hands up and down Billy's scars and feeling like he could cry, or laugh or something. Somehow, Billy was now the slow one, holding him carefully, like Steve might break. And Steve was the animal, the cyclone, kissing Billy hard, rubbing up on him like a cat in heat.

Because it was Billy, Billy Hargrove, and he was murmuring about honey and sweetheart, and he was begging Steve in soft words to just, "let me take care of you, that's all I want. Want to wrap those legs around my head and drown in 'ya, Harrington."

Steve shook his head, trembling when Billy rolled his hands around Steve's cock through the shorts, pulling Billy closer with his legs.

"I'm ready," Steve whispered, "Want you inside of me. Please, Billy, let's not wait."

"M'Pretty Boy," Billy whispered back, sounding tortured. His brows were drawn up as if in pain, and he cradled Steve's cheek in one hand.

"Billy," Steve pulled Billy back by that long gorgeous hair, "Just fuck me. Please, God, I really want you to fuck me, please."

Billy had a slightly troubled look, but he nodded, tugging at Steve's shorts with gentle hands, chuckling softly when Steve reaches down and yanks them off roughly, losing them in the rumpled bed instantly.

Steve just rolled his legs up, not wanting to part before he gets into position and-

"Condoms," Billy gasped, his eyes jolting to Steve's face.

"Yes... fuck... sorry, yes, I have some, they're on the nightstand."

It's like dousing them both with ice water. Billy pulls back, looking at Steve and then looking down.

They sit there a moment.

"I want you to know," Billy said in a cracked voice after a long pause, his back to Steve. "I'm not a creep. I haven't thought of you in... in a long time. I don't like... hire guys and make them pretend to be you or nothing like that. I just..."

Steve waits, just listening. After a while he reaches a hand out and putting it on Billy's shoulder, rubbing slightly.

"I'm not a creep. I'm not gonna follow you home and t-throw you in a trunk or something-"

"Stop," Steve said, rubbing Billy's back in slow circles. "I don't think that."

"I just mean.... I'll pay," Billy said it gruffly, "If you have another client tonight, you gotta rush, that's ok. But if you have the night, I'll pay."

Steve looks down, catching a glimpse of Billy's hands, tangled together in his lap, holding the condom that he grabbed from the bedside table. He's just as beautiful as he used to be, maybe more so. He's got a layer of fat over his muscles that makes him look softer, his hair is long and soft, and even the beard, it takes away all his rough edges.

"I don't have to rush," Steve said. "Why'd you have me dress up, Billy?"

"I just saw someone, the other day. Been seeing him. In Venice. This guy, he's always wearing these loose robes and he hangs out on his balcony in the morning," Billy bit his lip, "Sometimes with a blonde guy. Boyfriend or something. Anyway, he kinda looks like you. And my boyfriend dumped me like a year ago, because I'm still a total freakshow. Issues on issues on issues. So I thought, fuck it. Why don't I just... be the freakshow I am."

"You're not a freakshow."

Billy chuckles, "Trust me. I am. Pining after a high school... nothing. You didn't even like me."

"I-"

"Don't pretend," Billy looks at him, eyes glistening, "Don't you bullshit me, Harrington."

"I'm not," Steve says, heart in his throat. "I'm not bullshitting. Haven't been from the moment you walked in here."

Billy says nothing, just looking at him.

"I don't have to rush," Steve shook his head. "And if tomorrow, you just leave, and there's money on the stand... that's totally cool. But I'm rushing because... because..."

Billy just watches. Listens.

"Because I'm really glad to see you again, Billy. Really glad. And I wouldn't mind," Steve steels himself for rejection, sucking in a breath. "Seeing you after tonight."

Billy's brow furrows, and he looks down at his hands again.

"Like... maybe for real. And I can wear actual clothes. And no one has to pay anyone. And I'll know who you are. You'll know who I am. And I'll take you back to Venice to meet my roommate, who you already fucking know, I think."

Billy's blinking hard, and it takes Steve a moment to realize he's crying.

"Billy," He whispers, "Honey. Sweetheart."

Billy reaches out and cradles Steve's cheeks, pulling him into his lap and then into a kiss.

"I don't think you're a creep, Billy," Steve wraps his legs around Billy, and holds him safe and warm, "I know you. I know you."

Billy makes a wounded noise, like he doesn't know if that's a good or a bad thing. But then he starts running his hands down Steve's chest, tugging on his chest hair and rolling his nipples between his fingers, and Steve goes kind of cock dumb and wild again, rolling his hips, seeking to get closer. He wants Billy to press him to the bed, crush him with his weight.

It's just a happy blur, punctuated by moments of crystal clear sweetness. Billy presses his cock inside of Steve after a long, leisurely, lovely trip between Steve's legs. It turns out his tongue really is magic like the girls used to write on the bathroom walls. Steve's heart is beating like a jackhammer and he's sweating like he did so long ago in high school, his hair flopping in his face as Billy drives into him hard.

"You used to look so fuckin' cute in these little shorts," Billy growled, "Put them on again. Wanna push them to the side, get you all fucked out and gorgeous. Want you to cum in them, pressed all up against the waistband."

And maybe Jason's rubbing off on Steve because he does, slides the somewhat wrecked shorts over his sweaty ass and flops back on the bed. He practically presents his ass on a Hawkins green platter, moaning all slutty.

"Used to dream about them every night," Billy rubs him through the shorts, "Used to think about you in the hospital. When you would wear that fucking family video vest and come drive Max. You got me through physical therapy."

Steve looked over his shoulder, still working his ass back on Billy's cock, "I still have the vest."

"Fuck... fuck..." Billy actually covers his face with his hands, "Is this real? This is real right, not fake bullshit?"

Steve's literally got a cock in his ass, and it's normally not how he does stuff, but he looks back, because seriously?

"Billy. I said I wanna see you? I like you? Now can you please keep fucking me, I'm so close."

Billy finally smiles that smile, that devilish grin, "At your service, Sweetheart."

And then he rocks his hips up and back in a way that presses right against that sweet spot that makes Steve see stars. He cums so hard it does soak into the shorts like Billy said, and Billy rubs it in messily, groaning and pressing his head to Steve's back.

Steve goes boneless on the bed, not even moving when Billy pulls his softening cock out and gets up.

There's a moment when Steve's heart skips a beat that he thinks Billy's gonna slap down an envelope of cash and ask him to leave. And that would be fine. Could be totally fine.

But instead he tugs the covers back and helps Steve under, wrapping his arms around Steve and holding him close to his heart.

"You meant that, about seeing me again?" Billy says softly.

"Yeah, weren't you listening?" Steve plays with the silver medallion that hangs across Billy's collarbone.

"Yeah, I was listening," Billy kisses Steve's temple softly, and Steve's heart flutters like a cartoon duck. "How about we start with breakfast tomorrow. I got a good amount, let's give someone the tip of their life. And I think you need waffles. Pancakes. Whatever the hell you want."

Normally, Steve would call bullshit. But Billy's got a Cartier tank ticking where he tucks a sweaty lock behind Steve's ear. And he knows Billy. He trusts him.

Steve tugs on the necklace until Billy gets the hint and draws him into another filthy kiss.

Steve's normally a pretty good hooker. He's not looking for a Pretty Woman ending.

But it turns out he's a bit of a sucker for the boyfriend experience.

---

This got WAY long. I'll proably put it up on ao3. @intothedysphoria and @dragonflylady77 be proud of me plz.

#asks #harringrove #my writing #shieldofiron #SW Steve Harrington #Billy Hargrove #Billy x Steve #Steve x Billy #bratty steve harrington #bear billy hargrove #otter steve harrington

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poppitron360 · 5 months ago

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In honour of today being 55 years since the first stone thrown at the Stonewall Uprising, here is some Valgrace fanfiction (definitely that and not the fact that I just happen to have finished it yesterday).

I am so, incredibly grateful to all those people who rioted from June 28th-July 3rd in Greenwich Village, New York, just so that I could one day have the right to post angsty little fics about these two fictional teenagers on my tiny Tumblr blog (That is what they were fighting for, right?). We have come so far, haven’t we? And I think it’s important, next time we read a silly little Valgrace fic or reblog some Solangelo fanart, we owe it all to a Black Trans Woman who threw the first stone (Seriously, guys, read into the Stonewall Riots, they are fascinating).

So the message here is… Don’t be mean, just read Valgrace?

Anyway-

Summary: AU where Valgrace is canon meaning that Leo came straight back to chb after BoO. Set at New Year’s, following the aftermath of the battle with Gaea and Leo’s “Death”. Leo struggles with flashbacks, having just exploded and therefore probably being traumatised. Jason comforts him, and they realise- even though they’re still scarred from the war- just how lucky they are to have each other, and to, for once, not have the weight of the world resting on their shoulders.

CW: Angst I guess

Word Count: 2,084

VALGRACE

Jason was swaddled in his scarf and winter coat. Leo had settled for just a jacket and gloves, after much grumbling.

“I don’t get cold like you do!” He’d complained, “I’m toasty warm!!”

He’d agreed to put on the jacket for the necessity of pockets (because his magic infinitely-pocketed tool belt apparently wasn’t enough). Jason, on the other hand, was freezing. He needed a sweater, a coat, a hat, a scarf AND his hot-water-bottle of a boyfriend to keep from turning blue. He’d spent most of his childhood at Camp Jupiter in California, where even wintertime was balmy. Here on Long Island, the air bit like an alley cat.

They walked down to the beach, the cold night air stinging Jason’s cheeks. Jason put an arm around Leo’s shoulders and rested his chin on the top of his curly-haired head, which made it awkward as they walked.

“…What’re you doing?” Leo asked.

“Mmm…” Was Jason’s response, “You’re warm…”

Maybe it was the whole “raised by wolves” thing, Jason had always had the urge to curl up on a comfortable lap and snore.

Leo didn’t push him off.

They stepped gingerly down to the docks, hug-walking as they went. A crowd of people had already gathered along the shoreline, looking out towards the ocean. A large clock had been set up to face them, the time reading 11:52.

“Eight minutes to go…” Jason said, taking his chin off of his human chin-rest and looking at Leo, “It’s been a hell of a year, hasn’t it?”

Leo nodded, “Yeah. I died.”

“We fought giants and monsters.”

“And I made a super awesome plate of enchiladas, my best yet!”

“Those were some really good enchiladas.”

Leo looked down, and Jason could see a little hint of sadness in his eyes. Then he looked back up at Jason.

“I’m glad I have you, Jason.”

Jason put an arm around him and pulled him closer as they looked out towards the clock and the sky and the sea, “I’m glad I have you, too, firefly.”

They stayed there, enjoying each other’s company, waiting for the New Year to drop, and for once, they were just regular boyfriends.

Then the countdown started.

“10… 9… 8…”

Jason looked into Leo’s deep brown eyes and smiled. Everything was perfect.

“7… 6… 5… 4…”

Leo smiled back, yelling the numbers alongside everyone else.

“3… 2… 1…”

They kissed.

“Happy New Year!!!!!”

And then, the first firework exploded, and everything went wrong.

Bang!

Leo’s face flashed with panic, his eyes darting around wildly like for a moment he’d forgotten where he was.

Bang! Bang!

Fireworks lit the sky, but Jason wasn’t looking. He was watching Leo’s face as the colours flashed across it, reds and greens and purples. The bright twinkle that reflected in his eyes was supposed to be that happy spark of wonder at the fireworks, but Leo’s eyes were filled with utter terror and dread. He pulled away from Jason, and took a few steps back, momentarily stunned by the explosions.

“Leo, what’s wrong?”

BANG!!

Leo yelped and wrapped his arms around his head, covering his ears. He stumbled back, colliding with some other campers in the crowd. They briefly stopped their whooping and cheering to shoot him a disgruntled look, then turned back to the sky.

Jason stepped forward, but Leo was looking around, confused, like his mind had gone somewhere else. His breath was short and panicked. His eyes were watery, staring in fear at the sky.

Bang!! Bang-bang!!!

Leo unwrapped his arms from his head, and used them to push through the bodies of staring people, stumbling and scarpering away from the noise.

Jason chased after him, “Leo, wait! Where are you-“

Leo had disappeared into the crowd.

Jason spent the next few minutes searching for him on the beach, no luck. He ignored the bangs behind him. The crowd ooh-ed and aah-ed at the explosions of light. Jason pushed through them, calling Leo’s name. He was getting worried. Leo knew how to disappear if he wanted to. If he was running scared, Jason wasn’t sure if he could find him before he got himself hurt. Why did he have to end up dating the flight risk? No, that was unfair. Leo’s runaway childhood was through no fault of his own. But if he was frightened, Jason had to find him quickly.

He searched the Hephaestus Cabin. Nothing. The forges. Nothing. The only other place Jason figured Leo would hide was Bunker 9. And sure enough, as soon as he’d entered, the large industrial lighting rig slammed on, and he could see Leo curled up against the wall, shivering. And Leo didn’t get cold.

“Leo?” He asked, “You okay?”

Leo shook his head, his hands still clutched around his ears. His voice was chocked with tears.

“Expl-explosions-” He managed, “Loud… very loud…”

Leo’s whole body was shaking. Jason crouched down next to him.

“When you… when you died? In that blast? The fireworks brought you back to that moment?”

He remembered the confused look in Leo’s eyes as he watched the colourful explosions light the sky- like he was somewhere else, hearing a different bang.

“I… I…” Leo wiped his eyes with the heel of his hand, and took a deep breath. He seemed to regain his composure, enough to look Jason in the eyes. “It was so painful, Jason… I was… and I didn’t understand why everyone was clapping.”

Ever since Leo had come back, he’d kept that same bubbly persona going. Jason hadn’t even realised how much actually dying had scarred him, but of course, it must have done. Leo never let on that he was haunted by that, but Jason could see it now clear as ever. Every firework would bring him back to that morning, when Leo had vaporised Gaea with the force of his own power.

Jason nodded. “I understand. The flashbacks… they’re hard. Particularly when everyone else seems to be unaffected. Your whole life flashes before your eyes and they’re cheering. It’s scary… But you’re safe now. Nothing’s gonna hurt you here.”

Jason wrapped his big strong arms around Leo’s shoulders and pulled him into a hug. Leo buried his face in Jason’s lap and began to sob. Jason stroked his hair.

“Shh… it’s okay… you’re safe now… you’re safe…”

Outside the thick walls of Bunker 9, muffled bangs continued. Leo whimpered at every single one.

“It’s okay, Leo… they can’t hurt you… you’re safe with me…”

“I’m sorry…” Leo sobbed.

“Shh. Shh. Sorry for what, Baby?”

Leo rolled over in Jason’s lap so that he was looking up into his eyes, “For ruining New Year’s with my stupid PTSD. You should be out there enjoying yourself instead of worrying about me, crying like a baby who’s afraid of a little fireworks.”

“No. No. Stop thinking like that. Stop it, right now. As your commanding officer, I forbid it.”

“You’re not my commanding officer!” Leo complained, indignantly, “Those are only to Roman soldiers. At Camp Half-Blood, we’re both head counsellors. We’re of equal station.”

“Fine,” Jason rolled his eyes, “As your boyfriend then. You’re banned from calling yourself stupid. You’re not stupid, Leo. You’re hurting. You’re scared. It’s okay, you have a right to feel those things. It’s totally normal, considering what you’ve been through.”

Leo was silent for a long time. Then he said, “Actually, I have the title of Supreme Commander, so I outrank you.”

Jason chuckled, “How about Prince then? My dad is King of the universe.”

“Holy Hephaestus, you’re right… I’m dating a freaking Prince.”

They laughed and settled into comfortable silence for a few moments. Then Leo’s expression turned sad.

“I know that I- I joke about it a lot, but I was… dead. I was actually dead, Jason.”

“I know… I know…”

“Like, I actually died. And… I can’t help but wonder… how she felt…”

“You mean your mom?” Jason asked.

Leo nodded, “How much pain I was in… I put her through that…”

“No… Baby, no…”

“Yeah, yeah, I know it was Gaea who caused it, but it was my flames that burned her. Or maybe it was smoke inhalation or something, I dunno, but it came from me. The pain she felt was a direct result of something that came from inside me. And I felt it, too. When I killed Gaea. It was horrible. I finally understood how she would’ve felt. Except it would’ve been worse for her, wouldn’t it? Trapped in that workshop, helpless, alone, as the flames rose up.”

Leo paused. Jason just studied him, silently. At the lack of new input, Leo continued, “What was she thinking? Did she see the fire and know that I’d done that? I mean, she didn’t know that Gaea was there. In those final moments, dying by her son’s hand, did she think I’d let her down? Because I couldn’t control it? Did she realise with a sinking feeling that all her worst fears were confirmed, that I really was too dangerous? Was she disappointed in herself for not raising me right? For not teaching me to be more careful? It’s just… once you’ve faced your own death, experienced the thoughts going through your head in those final moments, you start to wonder what other people thought during theirs. I dunno…”

Jason thought about that, “No, no, I get it. I understand.”

It had taken a while for Leo to get to a point where he could talk to Jason so openly like that. Where he could share the thoughts that haunted him, articulate his feelings in a way that Jason could understand. Even if he didn’t understand sometimes, he still listened. But most of the time, he could empathise with Leo- probably more than Leo realised. Jason himself hadn’t been dead, but he’d come close. And what Leo had said about thinking in those final moments… that resonated with him. He thought about his own mom. Did she think about him at all in that car crash? Did she regret abandoning him, not reaching out? Or did she not care?

“I get it,” Jason said again, “I mean, I actually lost you. It might’ve been only for a day or so, but for a few moments you weren’t on this planet at the same time as me. I don’t really want to think about it, the fact that I could’ve…”

He stroked Leo’s hair, as Leo started to cry.

“I’m sorry, Jason…” He mumbled.

“No… No, what’re you sorry for?”

“I don’t know,” Leo admitted, “Putting you through that, I guess.”

“Oh, Baby… No… I mean, it hurt, but you came back. All is good.”

“And I’m sorry to my mom.”

“She’ll forgive you. She knows you didn’t mean it.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I can take an educated guess,” Jason told him, “I’m Prince of the freaking Cosmos, remember? You have to listen to me.”

Jason rubbed Leo’s shoulder as Leo lay in his lap, “Look, Leo, you’re valuable. You’re needed. You deserve love, and forgiveness, and patience, and everything else. You’re brilliant, and awesome, and cool.”

“I know,” Leo said.

“Then why don’t you believe me when I tell you that? This was not your fault. You don’t need to keep kicking yourself about it. You did good. You saved the world. You avenged her death. You are loved. You are cared for. You are forgiven.”

Leo burst into tears.

“Shhh… it’s okay…” Jason soothed, “You can rest, now.”

“You can rest, now…”

Long had Jason waited to hear those words. And now, looking down at Leo, eyes closed, head rested on Jason’s knee, his breathing getting increasingly steadier- he realised how much Leo had needed them, too. And he found, with absolute certainty, that it was true for them both. There were no explosions. There was no Gaea. They were safe, here, at Camp. They had each other. It would take time for the nightmares to end, for the scars to fade. It would mean Leo would not be able to enjoy fireworks for a long time, maybe never. But they were safe. They could rest here, until daybreak. They might even skip breakfast and sleep in all morning. No urgent quests needed to be undertaken. No oracles prophesied their deaths. Leo had Jason to dry his tears. Jason had Leo to keep him warm. They were beaten and damaged, but they were alive. And they could rest, knowing that they had each other. For that, Jason was eternally grateful.

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pendragonsclotpole · 10 months ago

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succession but bruce wayne is 45 and tired of having to attend pointless board meetings when he’d much rather be plotting how to get rid of all the stupid money he has (he’s tried everything, invested all of his funds into gotham, secretly funded the justice league and hid it from his tax returns in hopes that the irs would bust him. spoiler: they don’t, they consider his anonymous donations to be charity AND WRITE HIM TAX BREAKS. he’s even given everyone at WE a living wage, offered free daycare, amazing healthcare, in hopes of making running WE so expensive it drives down profits, but all it does it ramp of productivity and stock prices. he’s in too deep. let one of his children handle it pls).

candidate #1: dick grayson-wayne, bruce wayne’s eldest boy, former cop, circus acrobat, college dropout and style icon (TM). he immediately takes himself out of the running when a pap keeps calling him “richard” and he shouts back “dick.” that’s his name, but no one cares. also his pics from his mullet era resurface. the world is never the same again and the board summarily agrees he’s too divisive.

candidate #2: jason todd-wayne. initially the main contender when alleged footage of him breaking into a very important wayne warehouse leaks. he’s shouting “reclaim the means of production.” wayne enterprise stock falls but the internet is in favor. he’s unfortunately taken out of the running as all legal records indicate—he’s dead? but there’s cute footage of a 13 year old jason todd ardently defending the historical accuracy and superb writing of jane austen’s pride and prejudice. he loudly proclaims he’ll marry mr. darcy at the end. his candidacy remains very popular and the internet starts publishing memes about converting to satanism and practicing necromancy to revive jason todd-wayne.

candidate #3: tim drake. a popular front runner for the old guard of gotham as tim’s also the heir of the drake fortune. unfortunately, he runs away screaming every time someone comes up to him asking about the possibility of taking over WE full time. a major scandal breaks out when he’s caught buying something in a shady alleyway, and people are convinced he’s another partying rich boy. until the full footage leaks and it’s revealed he was buying coffee beans from a barista in the alleyway behind a newly opened coffee shop. multiple coffee shops then make posts online that yes, bruce wayne has called each of them and offered them copious sums of money to NOT serve tim drake or anyone representing tim drake caffeinated drinks after 5pm and before 5pm. many of the videos feature framed photographs of fake wanted posters featuring a very tired looking tim. tim, on a caffeine withdrawal posts a tiktok ranting about the injustice of tyrannical parents think this energy:

and the hashtag save tim wayne trends.

candidate #4: damian wayne. except as a twelve year old he’s not really in the running, except he’s the only wayne by blood so some members of the board are gunning for him. one of them kidnaps him, huge mistake, and footage leaks of him chasing his kidnappers with a katana? appears. he’s officially out of the running but it also fuels calls for bruce to be liberated so he can actually parent his children. joke’s on them, damian’s damianess is 99% thanks to richard grayson.

candidate #5: cassandra cain-wayne. she takes herself out of the running but she’s a dark horse because everyone loves her youtube channel Cass Cayne and her business decisions for brand deals are top tier. bruce makes background appearances and the internet learns cass is def the favorite.

candidate #6: stephanie brown. she’s not a wayne? people think? are 99% sure? but like she’s always there? she dated tim drake? maybe? she calls bruce dad!

#batman #bruce wayne #dc #batman comics #batman characters #richard grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #stephanie brown #cassandra cain #batman headcanon #batman fic #fanfic prompt

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frothing-at-the-mouth · 1 year ago

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Might draw something with the results or write a fic, or both, We’ll see

The results will determine;

1.Who the public thinks did it

2.Who actually did it

3. Who was involved (deliberately or accidentally) but wouldn’t necessarily catch the blame

4. Who came up with the cover story that convinced the public about who did it

5. Wild Card

The top 5 people will be put in those different spots depending on how high their % is

I just find these polls fun. - v-

#batfam #bat family #interactive story #let the polls decide #bat fam #bruce wayne #jason todd #dick grayson #cassandra cain #Tim Drake #Stephanie brown #Barbara Gordon #Damian Wayne #duke thomas

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msfcatlover · 11 months ago

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Death Mask Steph

Oh boy. This is the big one. I've agonized over this, and getting the design right has been... ugh. Nevermind. Here we go.

Death Mask needs to draw on Red Hood and Steph designs. (I would draw from Black Mask designs, but frankly Roman's designs are all kinda boring? He's a skull-head in a suit, and basically always has been; it's simple & effective, but there's not a lot to iterate on there.) Steph's suits tend to be armored one-pieces, but layering is so crucial to most Red Hood designs, that balancing the two has been... tricky.

(I've already shared the Stephanie Brown Costume History page. Unfortunately, the n52 designs page seems to be just descriptions with no pictures, and the page for her n52 appearances doesn't give you many good angles. So here's Steph's "Future's End" & "Future State" designs, as the stand-out missing designs, in my opinion.)

The absolute vital part of any Red Hood inspired design is, of course, the helmet. It's also been the biggest pain. Jason's had some good helmet designs and a lot of bad ones over the years, and (as I've previously stated) finding a full reference page for them is basically impossible. So here's what I'm going with.

Steph starts with a sleek, sculpted black metal base. Say something like this model of Jason's Injustice helmet. The primary difference would be that Steph's helmet opens up at the front rather than the back; the faceplate would be hinged at the top of the head, and it would swing up & forwards to reveal her face.

(Using the Injustice helmet as a base because it more than most looks like it really should open from the front. I'd also say the sides would also be able to open wider, so that it can still fit snug without being a pain to get in & out of. Not that anyone would ever bother to draw that detail, but I think it would look neat opening up in 3 directions all at once.)

Next, most of the face plate is covered by a sculpted skull. This is how she invokes the whole "Death Mask" idea, as well as purposefully stealing Roman's gimmick. Below the teeth are a couple understated tubs & valves, evoking a gasmask---something like this.

(Kinda a Red X look, I'm realizing now that I'm digging through my reference folders all at once... Anyway, this piece seems to be by Laura Sheridan, but her website seems to be down, you can only buy her art seemingly 2nd hand, and I can't find this picture listed anywhere but pinterest.)

The edges, mechanical bits, and any detail work added should be done in copper.

Within the eye sockets are two recessed glowing lenses, like Jason often has, though Steph's glow a dark magenta, casting light that borders on red.

(Obviously, these lenses change size & shape to show emotion through the mask, like you do. They're not designed to---in fact, logically all the bat-masks are designed like this in order to help hide the wearer's emotions---but that's comic logic for you.)

Below the helmet, Steph's suit is mainly made up of reinforced black leather motorcycle pants, a black undersuit, and an armored vest like this.

(But black. Obviously.)

However, she accessorizes. Steph has added a decorative metal ribcage to her armor, as well was plates mimicking a spine. The ribs should be copper-colored, while the spine can be either metallic or black.

(Depending on who's drawing them, the ribs could range from purely decorative to practically another layer of armor. And following the links from pinterest, both of those artists have apparently taken their rib-art down, which is once again very disappointing.)

Steph wears a chunky utility belt which sits crooked on her hips. I personally think it should be black (maybe brown?) with either copper, ivory, or dark magenta snaps/clasps holding the pouches shut (pick one for all pouches, not a mixture). She has a gun holstered on each hip, one on each thigh, a set of throwing knives (3-5) on the front of the belt, and wears her sickle-swords strapped criss-cross on her back.

The swords themselves are made from a copper-alloy, retaining their coppery color, and easily double her reach (are about as long as one arm.) They have a hilt not dissimilar to an Egyptian khopesh, but a completely different blade; Steph's swords have a much more exaggerated curve, and crucially, they're sharpened on the inside of the crescent, where a khopesh is sharpened on the outside. They legitimately look like a crescent moon sickle, stretched out to sword size.

(Khopesh hilt, and genuinely the best crescent sickle sword I can find for what I'm picturing. Steph's would be in much better shape, obviously.)

Steph keeps it understated-but-still-stated with knee-high, buckle-up, black leather motorcycle boots.

(These are mid-calf, but it's the closest I can find that aren't completely over the top. Also, any artist who figured out how to make the laces work without losing the straps would win my unending love for the symbolism of Steph clearly still mimicking her big brother but trying so hard to hide it.)

Steph’s sleeves are armored in black metal plates, ending in sharpened black gauntlets. I don't care much about the specific structure, I just really want that clawed look.

(Shorter would be more practical for finesse work, while longer claws could be worked into her fighting style. I am going back & forth on whether this should be both arms or just one of them, because I’m a sucker for asymmetric designs, but I think it might be a bit too much with all the other details.)

Finally, over top of it all, Steph wears an uneven ivory-colored hooded shawl made of layers of thin, wispy fabric. It hangs down her back to her waist, but bunches up in the front over her collarbones. It's purposefully designed to look tangled & messy, hiding her body shape with all its bulk & fly-aways, and is flimsy enough that grabbing hold of basically any part of it will just leave you with a fist full of torn fabric.

This is the hardest to find examples for, but... okay, so it's shaped roughly like this:

(If anyone can find the non-pinterest source for this one, I'd hugely appreciate it; all I'm getting is a dead twitter link.)

It's layered like these:

And it's made from material like this:

(This definitely gets swapped out for either a white scarf or a brown trench coat pretty regularly, just because those are easier to wrap your head around/draw. I think both could work & be cool, but Steph is trying to give off “undead vibes” with this original costume, and this gives her a more ghostly look which… okay, is heavily inspired by this Jason design.)

Also, Steph's hair is still long, but she ties it up in either a french or dutch braid before going out most of the time. Dutch is for going out in public or to the gym, where she'll lift it off her neck in a ponytail, french then gets coiled into a bun inside of her helmet.

(I am undecided on whether or not she also has an undercut.)

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dopscratch · 1 year ago

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introducing: the Scoutbros

i'm feeling creative, so i'm gonna introduce you all to my headcanons for scout's family, including the basically-ocs that i've designated as his brothers! you're welcome to use them anywhere if you happen to actually like them, with a couple rules

credit me please this is the one scrap of originality i have

if you make any tweaks, headcanons or changes, please do not parade them as fact!

SHOW ME, LINK IT TO ME, GIVE ME WHATEVER CONTENT YOU MAY MAKE WITH THEM I LOVE THE SCOUTBROS

obviously these rules only apply to the oc-ones and not the canon characters (except rule 3, give me your tf2 content...)

all images are from that one scene in my Runs in the Family animatic you know the one- and represent fairly young versions of all of them! i think i designed scout to be like 10 there.

anyway, without further ado, my headcanons/ocs:

Starting with Scout's mother, I've headcanoned she really likes J names. Her name is Jolene and Spy's name, whatever it is, probably starts with a J too. Most of her kids come from different fathers, hence their varied appearances. Also her last name is Fitzgerald for the memes. That's pretty much all I have here

Scout himself also remains pretty much unchanged. His childhood nickname was Germ because Jeremy and also he's a little pathogen the kid is obnoxious :)

Josh is 1 year older than Scout and is the resident daredevil. He’s a thrill seeker and holds the record for the most broken bones in the family, both at once and total. Scout may have broken this record during his time as a merc, but since he’s not really supposed to talk about it (and it’d be nearly impossible to keep track of on the battlefield with Medic healing) Josh remains on top. He has darker/deeper brown eyes and hair.

Jay is 2 years older than Scout and a hyper tech nerd who finds it difficult to focus on most things for more than one minute. He loves pranks, often pulling them on his brothers and anyone unlucky enough to be close by. He’s 100% a memelord (Saxton invented the internet early it could happen!!). He’s a blue-eyed redhead.

Jason is 5 years older than Scout. He’s twins with Jake (coming next!). He’s also a criminal. To be fair, he’s not really more of a criminal than his other brothers, he just continued being a bit of a menace into adulthood and is terrible at covering his tracks, resulting in him landing in jail more often than not. If someone in the family is going to get caught for a crime, it’ll most likely be him. He also occasionally takes the fall for his other brothers, be it voluntarily or not. He’s absolutely awful at planning but can often think on his feet well enough in a crisis. He has paler brown eyes and black hair.

Jake is Jason’s twin (so also 5 years older than Scout). He’s a nicer guy, polite, but an adept fighter. He tends to keep a cool head and can get out of a lot of bad situations, the opposite of his twin (he is the younger twin which he used to be a little self-conscious about). He’s also Bidwell. He legally changed his name because the scoutfam is a little notorious what with the many many troublemakers that come from it. I think this is the perfect origin story for him because there’s no way Saxton Hale would hire an assistant without assessing their combat ability.

Jessie is Jack’s (coming next!) right-hand man, 7 years older than Scout. Scoutmom Jolene forgot the masculine way to spell it was ‘Jesse’ so now this tall, buff, intimidating man has to live with a name that many would point and laugh and call a girl’s name (not that ‘Jesse’ would be any better in the spoken word). Though it was a bit of an embarrassment in early childhood, mostly going by his initials, he’s moved past it, growing confident and comfortable with his name. He’s generally stoic and hard to rattle, though he has a more chaotic side and likes helping out with Jay’s pranks. Though he’s slower to anger, he holds a long, lifetime grudge. He has darker brown eyes and black hair.

Jack is 9 years older than Scout and the ruthless leader type. He specializes in organized crime, but in a kind of wholesome way. He’s very protective of anything he’s deemed his territory and will keep his little circle safe. Family comes before anything for him (absent fathers don’t count in his books). He targets overeager gangs, corrupt officials, big businesses challenging smaller local ones, and other threats to his community in various less-than-legal ways. He has blue eyes and black hair.

James is the oldest son, 12 years older than Scout. He filled in as a sort of father figure to the family as it grew and was the leader of the scoutbros’ chaotic outings until adulthood, when he eventually decided to pursue a stable, normal job. Still, he sticks around and occasionally accompanies the group for old time’s sake. He’s generally the most responsible, followed by Jake and Jessie. He has brown eyes and a light brownish hair, a similar shade to Scout’s.

and that’s all of em! hope you enjoyed this wild ride through my brain. i think the tag is free so #scoutbros will from now on be referring to my particular band of silly dudes unless anyone has any objections!

also, feel free to ask me any questions!

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 headcanons #team fortress 2 headcanons #scout tf2 #scoutbros #scoutfamily #scoutfam #scoutmom #tf2 bidwell #scoutma #rancid ramble #lore landfill #trashmann treasure #tf2 ocs #character containment

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