#might be his secret superpower

[farshootergotme]

Occasionally I picture Nightwing calling Red Hood "little wing" in front of others and people looking between this huge, 6'0 feet tall man with growing white hair, and then Nightwing, a shorter man who has flawless skin, probably around his 20's, and a fit but not too buff build and they just- don't know what's happening. Is it some kind of inside joke they aren't aware of? Why is Nightwing acting as if he's years older than Red-fucking jacked-Hood?

Nightwing: Little wing, you actually were decent in that fight! I'm impressed.

Hero, who was helping during this fight as well, listening in to the conversation: little...?

Red Hood: Wow, feeling very appreciated right now. Got any other backhanded compliments in there?

Hero: Wait, excuse me-

Nightwing: As a matter of fact-

Red Hood: Nope! I'm outta here. Screw you!

Nightwing: You know you love me!

Red Hood: In your dreams, dickhead!

Nightwing: Hey! We don't use that-

Red Hood: Not listening!

Nightwing: Jeez, kids these days...

Red Hood: I'm an adult and fuck you too!

Nightwing: What? Thought you weren't-

Red Hood: See you never, I'm out.

Hero: ...

Hero: what the actual fuck?

[just-some-little-lads]

His Favorite Place to Kiss

Hey, all! First official post I've made for LaDS! So I'm sorry if the personalities aren't quite as spot on (I'll learn more about Xavier, I promise)! Can you tell who my favorite is? Oops. Second person POV and a gender neutral MC!

Xavier

Your eyelids. As a cozy lover himself, he adores the way you look so peaceful when you sleep. So cuddly and…perfect in his eyes, even if you can’t always see it yourself. Oftentimes, he finds he stays awake longer than normal when you relax so languidly beside him. All he wants is to take the stress and troubles away from your life. That way, you can look like this always. But he knows he’s not capable of shielding you all the time… So, in moments like these, he keeps you safe in his own arms, letting you escape into the comfort of a dream. Then he’ll take a moment, pressing whispers of a kiss to your closed eyelids while you rest. It’s a little ritual he does, hoping it’ll chase any nightmares away.

-

Zayne

Your forehead. It had started with checking your temperature; the back of his hand against your head. An overprotective gesture he’d do often outside of the hospital. One which you didn’t always mind since it was better than him carrying a thermometer on him at all times. The closer you got, the more the gesture shifted to him pressing his forehead against yours instead. Then eventually developed into a kiss. It’s a reassurance for him in a way. He loves being able to do something so loving and protective at the same time. He’ll lean down and spend a quiet moment kissing your forehead before placing his chin on the top of your head, bringing you in close. A much needed habit now. Knowing your temperature is normal is a sigh of relief as well. One less thing to worry about. Because seeing you in good health is his only real wish…

-

Rafayel

Your hands. An artist’s fascination with hands might seem like a cliché, but with him, it’s true. He takes very good care of his hands, needing them to hold paintbrushes after all. He’s always said that he can tell a lot of a person just from their fingers, and it’s hard to tell if he’s exaggerating his capabilities or if it’s another secret superpower of his. A lot of times, he’ll tease you over the callouses you have from your weapons, saying that he’d just die if something so unsightly happened to his. But there are plenty of days when you come in with cuts or bruised knuckles, making him freeze. He’ll hold your hands tenderly in his and kiss your palms. He claims there’s some sort of “magic” to it, but how cheesy is that? It’s even more cheesy to think that it sort of works…

-

Sylus

Your neck. He’ll say this loud and proudly with a bit of a tease in his tone. He’ll say it’s something about the way he likes to “dominate his prey” or whatever condescending nonsense he always blathers on about. He likes to laugh about the story he tried telling you a while ago, and how you related him to a vampire. The joke has gone rather far if that’s the case. What he won’t tell anyone is how absolutely dumbfounded he is every time he gets to kiss your neck. He knows how vulnerable of a spot it is, and he's more than well aware of the terrible things that could happen if someone were to take advantage of this weakness. And yet…you trust him. Despite the…’rocky’ beginning and the distrust and the constantly being on edge around each other, somehow he’d done enough to earn your favor. Part of him wants to teach you to better have your guard up, but he can’t do such a thing. Every time he plants his kiss against the side of your neck and all you do is laugh or hum, he wants to melt, to scoop you up into his arms and never let you go. And he likes when you touch his neck too…because it reminds him that he’s learned to trust someone again.

[tare-anime]

More interesting thing from Eyes Only.

For the volume cover, Endo spesifically choose designer chair that represent the character sit on it, and also design the things scattered under the chair as "the secrets" the characters want to hide, or things scattered in front of the chair if the character has nothing to hide.

Now let's see the first 4 covers that show us the Forgers

We know that Anya and Bond must have nothing to hide, except their superpowers. Their heart and act are pure just like the sweetest beans they are.

Twilight is obviously has lot of secrets to hide (including his own feelings. Smh)

However, it is interesting to see that Yor didn't have anything to hide, except her job as assassin.

The drops of blood even is shown in front of her chair, might mean that sometimes she even didn't hide the blood (as we know she manytimes has come home injured) but her secret remains. She is a master of "hiding in plain sight", huh? 🤣🤣🤣

Now letsee the next 4 covers

Yuri, Nightfall, and Frankie apparently has lots of things they hide.

But Damian too??? A 6 y.o kid? Goodness gracious. Damian please don't stop having fun as kid while you're still the age of one!

It is interesting to see how contrast Damian is if we compare him with other Eden kids, that are Becky, Ewen and Emile

These kids can be kids, and proudly showing to the world that they are kids.

It seems Damian still has a lot to learn from his peers.

And last but not least, vol 12. Handler

Well, it looks like the Full Metal Lady also doesn't have things to hide. Except...... the memory of her family 🥲🥲🥲🥲🥲 ugh... my heart... 💔

[izvmimi]

cw: spoilers. after timeskip. selfship-coded. reader has a defined quirk. hurt/comfort.

As strong as the bond between any high school class can be (even yours, arguably more a small superpowered militia than a group of hopeful freshmen in far over their heads and strong enough to make it through the other end anyway), paths diverge as people follow their dreams, even if they will all forever call UA their home. 

It’s fitting that Izuku Midoriya, indisputably the most affected by the trauma of the meta war has kept UA as home base, and settling into his new career as teacher has remained both expected and fulfilling, even if poorly introspective onlookers would think otherwise. He is the heart of what it means to be a hero and that is to inspire the present and the future, and carry on the lessons of the past.

He is also your heart, you muse, as you find him sitting at your kitchen table, poring over graded essays, the red ink from his excessively lengthy corrections and comments practically jumping off the paper it’s scribbled on. You set down your work bag and attempt to sneak up behind him, but even if he’s focused and still, he’s always sharp, setting his pen down to turn around and greet you with a kiss.

“Hey, you’re later than usual, so I just let myself in, is that okay?” he asks. You nod, moving over to wash your hands in the sink quickly, then coming back around to pull a chair next to him. 

You’ve wanted to ask him to just move in together for months now, especially since now you spend more time at each other’s places than you do your own separate ones, but something about the proposition has felt wrong, rushed maybe. It’s been just a little over a year since you moved back to Japan after your fellowship overseas, and while you’ve remained in a varying level of contact the whole time since graduation, the flux of things has changed significantly instead of settling normally. For one, confessing an unrelenting affection that was kept mostly secret since high school had changed the trajectory of your lives, finding ways to incorporate seeing each other without fanfare between your busy post-grad education and his UA courses, then finally a year of long distance had made it difficult to ever feel like things had been truly steady.

“I wouldn’t have given you a code or key if not, silly,” you remind him. He smiles, and you glance over at the last assignment he’s corrected, and grimace. 

“You know if Aizawa had given me this many comments on an essay, I wouldn’t have shown up the next day, Izuku,” you remind him. He laughs, as you take the paper and read his feedback, mind spinning.

“I mean, no kid’s ever cried yet. I try to be nice.”

He is nice, you think, realizing that not a single word in the practical novel he’s scribbled in the margins of the brief constructed response can be misconstrued as disappointed or demanding. 

In fact, you would have cried tears of joy reading this. 

“How was the clinic?” he asks over the turn of another page.

“The most darling kid who didn’t have a Quirk manifest yet at age 5 showed up with worried parents with too much money on their hands.” You twist your mouth to the side. 

Izuku doesn’t look up as he says, “Oh, that’s too bad.”

There’s a pang of discomfort in your chest for a split second, but he doesn’t say anything else, scribbling a series of checkmarks and x’s, the quick scritch of his pen a little louder and resounding.

Izuku was meant to be Quirkless and is happy being Quirkless yet again, his mission fulfilled and the world better for it - even if sometimes only marginally so - but you know he yearns for the ability to be back on the field, with the same restlessness All Might once recounted feeling once he’d retired to teach as well. It’s evident in the way Izuku stays up a little too late reading/watching the news at every level, and how much of his free time he coordinates to a similarly intense training program at the crack of dawn, and the fact that even now he bristles at the implication of Quirklessness as a disability.

Everyone can be a hero. He was the greatest of them all - is, in fact, and not just your personal one, but his own personal world has shrunk. Documentaries, videos, people’s memories will not change that the fact that he’s far bigger than the quiet life he lives.

Now he’s relegated to cheering his friends on, day in and day out, and preparing a path for the youth to surpass him, something he is willing to do, but you know perhaps the timing is a bit too early for someone who shines as brightly as him. 

You rest your head on his shoulder. I love you, you could say out loud, I love you, and the world loves you, for you even more than what you did and what you represent, but it doesn’t help and Izuku cannot help sometimes interpreting your love as pity.

“What do you want for dinner?” you ask instead, keeping your voice as gentle as possible.

He turns to kiss your forehead. “I’m good with anything.”

You hate that no matter what you ask, big or small, he’ll always say this, and decide you’ll order his favorite food instead.

—

Years ago, when Mei contacted you out of the blue while you were ass deep in your medical school finals, asking you if you remembered the last time you’d used your Quirk on Izuku Midoriya, you had immediately assumed she had officially gone insane. It had been greater than five years since you’d last had a normal conversation with her at all, if even that could be considered normal, and you hadn’t had a need to use your Quirk on Izuku since the meta war.

“I know it’s a long shot but I need to know if you still remember-”

“I do,” you answered quickly, then immediately your face warmed at the admission. You can’t help that your Quirk gives you near perfect memory of people by their neuronal diagram, but something about it feels stalkerish when you still think of him affectionately, and not just as someone you’ve once healed. It also doesn’t help what the circumstances were when you’d healed him… but that would be a concern and memory for later.

“How can I help?”

Katsuki rolled his eyes visibly at you when you showed up to Hatsume’s lab the very next day but the animosity between you two has been a running schtick for years and you responded in jest. Using Hatsume’s program to redraw each neuronal connection from memory and adjusting for differences related to age was your greatest contribution to Izuku’s suit, small sums of money to contribute to the class pot whenever you could spare them the other.

There was always a little pang of jealousy that Katsuki could always offer up more money than you could, which once you’d confided to him by late night phone call days before All Might came back to Japan, he’d remind you,

“I’m just trying to beat your boyfriend in a fair fight, don’t make this about you.”

Katsuki’s rash way of speaking has always intuitively comforted you in just this way. It brings a smile to your face, and you offer him a word of thanks, anyway.

“He doesn’t know, does he? I know you like to run your mouth.” 

Katsuki can’t see you roll your eyes. “He’s none the wiser, don’t worry.”

“Good.” 

—

Izuku sends you a daily good morning message, and you’ve rarely beaten him to the punch, but this morning, you offer him a phone call as you make your way to the center of the city to work. All Might is coming back today and will present his suit to him then, the fruit of all your joint labors, and you were practically unable to sleep due to the excitement. Part of you agonized over whether or not you should try to be with him in the moment, but this is a moment to be kept between them, mentor and mentee.

“How are you feeling this morning, Izuku?” you ask, hoping the pants of your speedwalk (late to work as usual), don’t concern him through the phone.

“Weirdly enough, excited. There’s a feeling I can’t quite place, a good one,” he starts, and your grin is ear to ear.

Hours later, you get an excited text and one of the happiest phone calls you’ve ever received, and your heart is full to bursting.

—

“It’s fine, you don’t have to fuss over me,” Izuku insists, and you pout. There’s one stubborn emerald curl that won’t right itself in your opinion, and he’ll be on set for an interview in just a few minutes - the first since returning to active hero work - but he holds your fingers in his hand and pulls them to his lips instead.

“It’s okay. Don’t be nervous on my behalf,” he reminds you as he kisses them. His eyes are kind and relaxing, and you let out a deep breath, biting your lower lip. “I’ve got this, I promise.”

“Fine.”

“I love you,” he reminds you. “Thank you for always being by my side.”

You nod, as his assistant whisks him away, and he steps back into the spotlight, where he’s always belonged.

[chosok-amo]

Sukuna that has a big fat crush on his lil bro Yuuji's upperclassmen friend that tutors him🤭💞

SHAPESHIFTED: RYOMEN SUKUNA

she was there, sitting beautifully and started filling the room, it was hard not to notice her glisten, when all the lights in the room— even the moon that peaks from the creek of the window darted like a spotlight on her, ‘your eyes might not be the color of the ocean but I get drown just by taking a secret glance, how do you do that? shapeshited and makes me fall in love with you?’

content warning: fluff, nothing else

sorry it takes me a lot of time to write this, I'm busy working on my thesis right now, and sorry I don't make exactly like your request but I hope you enjoy it 😊

THIS WAS FROM SUKUNA'S POV

UH OH, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

the moon is bright and the day is still young, i was just walking downstairs when i heard my brother's voice alongside a soft, feminine unfamiliar one. i kept my feet moving until i was able to see who the voice belonged to. she is sitting there with her small back facing me, body so tiny i'm afraid her friends had to lose her every time they were walking in the crowd. i keep on looking at her small frame until the brother of mine snaps me out of my own thought.

“sukuna.”

and just like that, she turned around, finally showing me how pretty someone could get with a honey voice like that. and suddenly, our eyes locked and if this is what people tell you about love at first sight i think they're having no idea what they were talking about. it doesn't make my head fuzzy and the world doesn't stop moving and the noise isn't running faded into the background like the movie show, but this? i feel hurt inside my chest like my heart alone wants to run and give it to her by itself.

she stands, showing me the biggest and the brightest someone could ever smile, it's beautiful, it's like a symbol of happiness, she looks happy, she looks like art even. and art was supposed to make you feel something, maybe that could explain why my heart is trembling. a quiet curiosity was planted into my chest, brain and I knew it was only a matter of time before she sunk beneath my bones, nurtured this deep-seated unfamiliarity into love so fierce, yet blithering, carefree and unconcerned, hopefully— that I would question if I had ever been in love before.

my hand becomes one with her, skin to skin as she takes my hand for her to hold— wishing it could stay longer after the void of nothingness hugging my hand back. she introduced herself to me but all I could hear was just the thunder underneath my flesh, underneath my ribs. yuji looking at me weirdly, doesn't get used to the way I reacted, i can feel his brown big eyes practically narrowing at me, but I choose not to pay him attention.

“she's going to tutor me, please don't do anything stupid or make too much noise,” he warned me. i flutter my eyes before catching a sight of him with his eyebrows up to his forehead. I rolled my eyes before waving my hand, and dismissed him off as if it meant nothing— well, It is, indeed. I'm a quiet person, unlike him, I'm not a menace to society. “yeah, yeah, whatever,” in boredom, i said to him and brought my feet to walk away from the living room to go to the kitchen.

i take a pack of cheese out of the fridge and slam it lightly on the counter. put pressure on the counter with my two palms before letting out a sigh. looking at the invisible living room, hoping my eyes suddenly had an x-ray superpower to take a glimpse of her again but to fail. “of course, what the fuck was I thinking?” a mumble under my breath could be heard. dramatically, I put my hand to my chest— hesitation felt in my blood. as I was feeling the thunder in my heart, I wail.

my knee abruptly turns into jelly, no longer having the ability to support my body as I slide down to the floor, back sticking to the wall of the counter. “what the fuck, what the fuck, what the fuck— what the fuck?!” I yell in whispered, finger pointing at my heart with narrowed eyes. “what the fuck is wrong with you?” I asked, hoping there was some machine error inside of me that's gonna be the cause of whatever was happening inside.

“you like her,” there's a whisper.

I laugh humourless, forcing myself. “yeah, bless her delusional heart,” I scoff while rolling my eyes. I do not like her, in fact, I despise her. her weirdly bright smile does not give me a whole damn zoo, her honeyed voice does not calm my nerves. she's not gonna be something I be thinking about for a whole week. she's just my brother's friend. just looking at her I can tell she's gonna be an annoying person and weird. “right, she must be a bitch,” I mumble, talking gibberish just so I can convince myself.

“she's beautiful, doesn't she?” that whisper again.

I went quiet for a moment, getting pulled by nostalgia back to a moment ago. my red eyes stared at nothingness dreamingly without I realized. the smile she gave kept replaying inside my head like a broken record, “yeah, she's the most beautiful girl I've ever seen.” the whisper could be heard, over and over again, hypnotising me to keep thinking about her.

“you like her, don't you?”

“do I?”

the whispered whispering in my ear as I felt a hot wind clouding my ear. and that time I realized that it wasn't my head tricking me, that wasn't some demon or angel like you see in movies whispering to someone. “oh you sure do,” again with the whispering. quickly I snap my neck to the side only to find yuji with his ugly ass face close to me. “what the fuck— Yuji!” he laughed as I jumped in surprise.

he stands straight as he puts both hands inside his pocket. “you look stupid, what are you doing sitting there?” he asks, smiling knowingly while his eyebrows arise. I cleared my throat before shrugging my shoulder, “just chilling,” I mumbled. he just kept looking at me for a while before rolling his eyes. “man, you're so weird when you're in love, so fucking weird,” he sight and walk away. i stand in second, “what the fuck do you mean?” I asked, feeling offended obviously. he just waved his hands nonchalantly without looking back.

“uh oh, am I falling in love?”

OH NO, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

“is that blood?”

she looked up at me blankly, no thought behind those eyes, looking dumbfounded as she battled her eyelashes like she was trying to process the information. “y/n, is that blood?” I asked again. “no?” she answered with another question. I rolled my eyes, “that's not a question you were supposed to answer with another question,” I told her, seeing her white skirt got stained with something red. she pulled her skirt, showing me a quite big scar on her knee, “i fell,” she whimpered as if she was about to cry. her big doe eyes looking at me with quiver lips. I bit my lower lip, trying to contain myself from laughing and cooing at how cute she looked right now.

“wait here.”

I patted her head before going to the kitchen and coming back with a box of first aid kits in hand. I sit myself next to her and pull her closer by her under the knee. “you're so clumsy,” I mumble— treating her wounds. I took a glimpse of her before looking down at her knee. a light chuckle left me without I realized. there she is, eyes shut tightly, one hand covers her mouth while the other one knead with eyebrows narrowed— oh god, she's so cute.

“don't laugh,” she wailed, hitting my shoulder lightly.

again, I laugh, “sorry y/n, you're just too cute— alright, I'm done.”

after, I brought my face to look at her only to find her face changed into bright red as if all of her blood was rushing to her head. “are you okay?” I asked, worried if her wounds might be the cause of her state. “—your face is red, are you feeling hurt?” I asked again. my backhand touched her forehead, “you're burning, should we go to the doctor? I think yuji—”

“you shouldn't say something like that so casually,” she finally opened her mouth but her voice came out nearly whispering. I feel my forehead frown when the confusion consumes me. “huh? what?” she stared at me for a while, and I never knew that ‘for a while’ could bring so many things to my veins. they're doing it again, the hurt in my chest, the adrenaline rushing through my blood. my heart beating so fast it's literally banging on my flesh, so loud I'm afraid she can hear it.

she smiles, “I'm fine.”

I cleared my throat as I looked away for a second before pointing at her skirt. “go change your skirt, it's dirty. yuji might take a while to come home and I refuse to let you ride your stupid bike again after the stunt you pulled,” I said. she's open her mouth, about to protest before I look at her with a stern look, making her change her mind in a split second without me even realising. so without saying anything I went to my room and came back with a black shorts. “thanks,” she mumbled softly as her hand reached the shorts before going to the bathroom. I wait for her to change and sit in the living room, switching the tv on.

for a few minutes, I sat there in silence until she was slowly sitting back at the end of the sofa. my mind went blank with the tv noise as a background sound while pleasing her with a glance one to two— she looked straight to the tv but I know she watched nothing. pretty little hands fiddling with the fabric of my shorts that she's wearing. and maybe that's not gonna stay mine any longer since she looked better in it than me. would it be weird if I wanted her to keep the short? especially when I'm not her boyfriend.

“did yuji know you're here?” I asked, not very fond of the silence that filled the room, also trying not to corrupt my mind with something I shouldn't think about. “yeah, but he hasn't replied yet, but we made a plan a week ago, so yeah..” I nodded. just like that we flew back again to where we were before— silences.

we stay like that for a good minute until I hear soft giggles, making me turn my head to look at where the sound comes from— her. her eyes were already looking at me, “why do you keep looking at me?” she asked. I was stunned, mouth shut as I realized I never looked away from her. “you staring, am I that beautiful for you to keep your eyes on me?” she jokingly said, another fit of soft giggles leave her pretty mouth, making me smile in return. I kept looking for a while then nodded, “yeah, you're that beautiful,” I breathe. and just like that her smile quickly faded into the void and faced the other way. I feel giddy seeing her shy state and this time, my turn to giggle.

“are you shy, y/n?” I asked.

she quickly hid her face with the palms of her hands, looking away. I move closer, “are you shy, y/n?” I asked again, teasingly as I poked her shoulder. a muffled voice of squealing could be heard. she moved her shoulder as I kept on poking her. I hold her wrist and pull it out of her face only for her to stiffen her hands and giggle. “oh come on, let me see that beautiful face of yours,” I laughed a little. she shook her head and again, tried to turn away. I kept on pulling her hands, and the moment I successfully pulled her hands away, it was already too late to realize that our face was an inch away.

her cheeks were crimson red, plump lips were slightly open as her hot breath touched my cheeks. and again, everything starts to blur, noise muffled to the background. I force my lips to put on a tight line for a moment as I look into her eyes to her lips, suddenly having the urge to kiss her. it's not like I don't have the urge to kiss her every time for nearly two months, but this time? I feel like I'm gonna die and regret the way I live for the rest of my life if I don't feel the softness of her lips in mine.

“can I kiss you?” so I asked, whispering.

“yes,” she whispered back.

I never realized a single word can mean so much to me. who knows an agreement from someone can make my heart beat so fast but this time I'm not afraid if she heard the beating, I want her to hear the beating, I want her to know that my heart already belonged to her way before I have the right to, as if it was hers in the first place. my eyes widened after the second I realized, oh no, I'm falling in love.

OH, I'M FALLING IN LOVE

“are you there?” a soft voice from the other side asks.

I let out a sigh, unintentionally making a cloud of smoke in the air while I hugged my body with one hand while the other one pressed the tiny technology in my ear. “physically yes, mentally is debatable,” I told her. shivering got nailed in my body, caused by the cold weather. I chew my lips, hoping it starts to warm soon. soft smile printed on my lips after I hear angelic giggles from the other side, “oh please, don't be party pooper, I'll be there with you in a second,” she said.

I waited a moment before my body got slammed into the tree by something tiny and soft. a hand pulled my neck before the warmness touched my lips. I let out a relief breath as I made a circle around the waist of her. my eyes closed, following the way her lips moved on mine. “that's not fair, y/n, you can't corrupt me with something like that,” I complained after the kisses broke. she smiles, “but you love it.” I rolled my eyes in annoyance before smiling back at her.

she opened her bag and pulled out something pink. my eyebrows instantly lifted as I caught her eyes sparkling. “what is it?” I ask, cautiously. she wrapped my neck with the ‘something pink’ that turns out to be a scarf. “It's cold, you should wear something to keep you warm,” she said, still smiling. “but it's pink,” again, I complained. this time, it was her turn to raise her eyebrows. “yeah, and?” she asked, looking confused as if I said something stupid with the oblivion. “i know it is pink,” she chuckled.

“i don't want to wear it, it's pink. I mean, did you even look at me? the tattoo on my face? the red in my eyes?”

she became more confused, “it doesn't match my vibe,” I told her, only for her to roll her eyes. “oh please, you look cute,” she sang happily, fixing the scarf around my neck. “but I don't want to look cute, please take this off,” I argued while trying to take the scarf off. she slap my hand in return, “but I made this for you,” she pouting, eyes almost looking like a dog. I was stunned, eyes wide open with her beautiful reflection in my iris. “you made this?” she nodded, still pouting. I let out a sigh, “fine.” out of thin air, the sparkle that was before lost in her eyes now bolting back, brightening it before I even realised.

under the cold weather, those eyes and all the sparkle made me feel warm. I could wear anything pink, from head to toe, I could do anything just so I could get to see those eyes simmering with the warmth of happiness. her and those eyes, I'm willing to kiss the ground she walked to, each step, if it means her eyes would be on me.

“kuna, come on, walk faster!”

she looked behind her— me, smiling with her hand that was covered with a thick glove waving at me. “be careful, it's slippery,” I told her. she stopped for a moment to hold my hand and softly dragged me to the fun fair. I watched her frame from behind, eyeing the way her body moved, gracefully like art in motion. her cheeks blended with crimson pomegranates as if all of the splendour of winter bent to her will. people say everything was a reflection of lights, and maybe that could explain her, she was the combination of all the prettiest light that exists.

she's beautiful and adorable and warm and everything in between. the first time you meet someone you're not gonna notice the waves of their hair, but the first I meet her I notice each wave, the way she stands, and speak, and smiles, her face becomes something I'll be thinking about next week, and five months ago I don't even know she exists but now i don't know if I'll still exist if she's not here.

she's more beautiful than any flower, she's like gold at the end of a rainbow, she's like a light of sunshine beneath the thunderstorm. just like the old poem said, If I had told the sea about her, what I felt about her, it would have left its shores, its shells, its fish, and followed me. its would have been filled with curiosity about the girl who's been shaking the sky and sea, the cause of my religiously praying when I don't even believe in god.

how does she shapeshifted like this? she becomes something I admire. the things that I usually overlook now become something that I desire. how did she do that? how did she make me fall in love with her?

oh, I'm falling in love.

[and-so-he-rambled]

Costume

(Gotham Rogue Vlad Masters)

Masterlist

“You’re going to fight Batman?” Daniel’s curious eyes peeked over the table, watching Vlad feed material into the sewing machine.

“Not exactly, I’m planning to avoid him as much as possible, but I’m sure we will cross paths.”

“Are you going to fight him with your superpowers?”

“No, remember how no one can find out we’re special? Not even Batman, he’d turn us in to the bad men.”

“Oh.” Daniel continued to watch him as he cut and arranged black material. He’d gone light on any body armour since he didn’t need it and needed the extra movement. He did have some for appearances and in case his powers still were on the fritz by the time he went out. He was getting better with time, but it wasn’t perfect.

“You should be a Badger.”

Vlad paused, looking at the child.

“Pardon?”

“A badger! Wait here!” The boy ran off, leaving Vlad staring after him.

He returned with his animal encyclopedia, plopping in on the table and pointing to a honey badger.

“You call me little badger and so Jazz showed me, I’m this one.” He pointed to the badger on the next page, a European badger. “But these ones are called Honey Badgers and they’re really cool and mean, and you should be one like Catwoman is a cat.”

Vlad thought that over. It did seem on brand for a Gotham rogue to have a theme, and while he was only planning on petty thievery it couldn’t hurt. He had gone more for the vampire look once his fangs had grown in but a badger was different enough that nobody would connect the two identities.

“I’m not calling myself Badgerman.” Daniel giggled at that, delighted. “Perhaps you’re on to something though.”

“Would you help me pick a design? I just can’t choose myself.”

Daniel’s eyes lit up in joy as he ran away to go find his drawing pad.

Jazz and Daniel worked together for the next few hours, his sister keeping him from making it too complicated. They ended up with a catsuit with a gray stripe down the back with lots of secret pockets and zippers. The mask he had to make a few alterations on, but it had a more American badger design with white down the center of the face and up the cheeks, leaving two stripes of black over his eyes. Jazz vetoed the full cape, with both Vlad and Danny complained about, but he managed to sell her on the shoulder cape.

“I can’t believe I’m going to become a two bit criminal for a giant bat.” Vlad murmered at he started in on his sixth hour of costume creation. He’d cheated with being able to change his ghost clothing at will after a few years of trial and error, this was hard. “I was supposed to be a scientist.”

Jazz was face down on the table, but she raised an arm to synthetically pat at him.

“Th’ goal is t’ avoid th’ bat.” She reminded him sleepily before falling back alseep. He took a break to bring her to bed.

The first goal when they got a payout was to get an apartment with their new identities. As much as he wanted them to stay ghosts it wasn’t feasible for the kids. They needed lives, to be children. Daniel was getting better control of his powers with daily training and eventually he might be able to go to school.

Vlad knew they couldn’t stay in Gotham forever, that once day the government would catch up to them and they’d have to disappear again, he was pretty Jazz knew it too. He needed to give them something before that happened. This time he’d spread the money into off shore accounts, they’d never be left with nothing again.

[seonghrtz]

𝘀𝗽𝗶𝗱𝗲𝗿!𝗴𝗲𝘁𝗼 ; inspired by this fanart.

spider!geto, who before being bitten by the radioactive spider was the most popular boy in high school and the most popular with the girls. 

spider!geto, who despite being popular, had a very small group of friends, including gojo, shoko and you from the third year, and nanami and haibara from the second.

spider!geto, who along with his best friend gojo satoru, was part of a small group of extremely wealthy students at the school.

spider!geto, who was always a dedicated boy and one of the best and brightest students, loved not only for his beauty but also for his intelligence.

spider!geto, who has always had a secret crush on you.

spider!geto, who was bitten on the hand by a spider that had been irradiated by a particle accelerator during a school trip to a laboratory.

spider!geto, who took almost three days to discover his new superpowers, at first denying his new superpowers and trying to find different explanations for what had happened and how.

spider!geto, who has told absolutely nobody about his new powers or what happened on the school trip.

spider!geto, who started out using his web for mundane things (like turning off his alarm clock or reaching for something across the room), but changed his mind when he saved two little girls from being attacked in the early hours of the morning during one of his rounds when he couldn't sleep. so he started using his power for good, helping people whenever he could.

spider!geto, who eventually appeared in the newspaper under the name 'spider-man' and eventually stuck with the codename, although he also wished to remain anonymous in his actions to protect the city.

spider!geto, who made his own costume by hand after a lot of research into fabrics and sewing. and knowing that you are interested in fashion and design, and that you used to draw croquettes and sew, he took the opportunity to get some tips from you and spend a little more time with you.

spider!geto, who first saved you from being mugged as you left a café where you worked at night. he even thickened his voice to avoid being recognised by you.

spider!geto, who one of the first things he thought of when he came back from a fight was that you might be able to help him with his bandages. so he went to your flat, which was luckily close by, and ended up climbing through the window into your room and scaring you. you were desperate at first with all the bruises he had and all the blood on his clothes.

spider!geto, who doesn't reveal his identity at first and lets you clean and bandage his wounds with his mask, which was intact unlike the rest of his uniform.

spider!geto, who felt his heart race every time you touched him. he couldn't help it and fell even more in love with you.

spider!geto, who started coming to your apartment when he was injured, even if it was just a small cut on his arm or a scratch on his leg.

spider!geto, who, during one of his visits to your apartment, ended up getting a new superhero costume made by you. the costume was red and black and of much higher quality than his old costume.

spider!geto, who ended up kissing you in an alley, in the rain, after saving you from a second mugging in the same café where you almost got mugged the first time.

spider!geto, who not only visited you when he was injured, but also after his night patrols.

spider!geto, who wants to keep his identity a secret from you, for fear that you'll move away from him or completely lose your friendship and everything you've built up, whether he's just geto suguru or spider-man.

spider!geto, who, despite his double life, remains one of the school's best students and always manages to hide it perfectly when he's injured.

spider!geto, who had no idea that you had known about spider-man's true identity for a long time (and just decided to keep it a secret).

© seonghrtz, 2023. all rights reserved, please do not copy / steal / translate / modify any of my works !

[lonelychicago]

I've been listening to the prophecy by taylor and i have thoughts, so bare with me on this one.

some people might look at this thing like a superpower, like something cool to trick people with or scare the shit out of them.

tommy thinks of it more as a curse than anything else. a punishment from above— maybe he's done awful, terrible things in some pasts lives and now he's paying the consequences.

truth is, he doesn't know. he can guess, can try to feel his way through the dark like a lost, blind man, but he's probably never gonna know why he is the way he is, why he can see the things he sees.

it started around the time he was nine, he thinks. when he went to hug her grandma, and suddenly he had this vision— like a short movie playing in his head, of how his grandma would die.

tommy hugged her and then there it was in his mind, he could hear her heartbeat and saw her laying in bed, so calm and at peace in her sleep, when her heart slowly stops.

tommy remembers crying out, screaming, pulling away from her in fear, much to the confusion of everyone in his family. his grandma was okay! she was right there! no one believed him when he told them what he saw, what he felt.

(nana june died that very night, in her sleep. just like tommy predicted.)

tommy realized pretty quickly that this was not something he could share with anyone else. not when he ran into his teacher at the grocery store three weeks later and saw how the woman would die in a tragic car crash in just a couple of weeks. not when he kissed a boy for the very first time when he was sixteen and saw he would die from a freak accident at a football game, of all places— a fatal hit to the head would be the end of a life cut too short.

his life became a swirl of death and fear and loneliness.

he pulled away from everyone. what was the point anyway? if he knew the end of their stories? why get atta hed, get close, when he knew the specific details of their deaths and would have to bare that weight on his shoukders all on his own?

(he made the mistake once of falling in love when he was in college. with matthew— a guy who would die of old age, at ninety-five years old. at home, holding the hand of his husband... that was definitely noy tommy.

it was okay. he figured he could have some fun and enjoy whatever time he could. but it only earned him a broken heart and matthew calling him a freak when tommy explained why he couldn't say i love you to him, why he couldn't truly commit.

he has trusted matthew with his deepest secret, with this curse that tommy has no other choice but to live with it. and it ended up in tears and half the campus thinking he was a psycho.)

since then, tommy vowed to never make that mistake again. to keep his distance with people.

and he's been successful, for the most part. he has some friends, of course, but he doesn't let his relationships get too deep, keeping everyone at arm's length.

it's for the best, really.

and he's... not happy, but content. maybe. comfortable.

until evan buckley comes crashing into his life, figuratively and literally speaking.

the guy is— adorable.

tommy has no other word to describe him.

evan is energetic and enthusiastic, passionate about every single thing he says and does. he's reckless and loud and everything's tommy has soent a lifetime running away from.

when buck touches him for the first time, it sends electricity to every one of his nerves. it's intoxicating and amazing and warm, and tommy never wants it to end.

then, the curse kicks in. a little later than usual— as if mocking tommy, almost. teasing him with a tiny taste of what normal looks like and then reminding him he can never have it, not for real.

the first time buck touches him, it's at chimney's wedding— he's drunk and sweaty, cheeks pink and flushed and a boyish smile plastered on his face. he practically draps himself next to tommy's side, leans all his weight against him as he hums the lyrics of the song plahing in the background out of tune.

it's fun and heavenly for a couple of seconds, until tommy gets the vision.

buck in a month, maybe a month and a half. hanging from the firetruck ladder as the sky falls around him, lightning striking him right in the chest and making his heart stop.

[animaymay]

SxF 96 Analysis: Some Small Details About the Reveal

Ok, hear me out. I haven't even read the manga for Spy x Family (yet); I've only watched seasons 1 and 2 of the anime, but I've somehow stumbled upon spoilers for the last two chapters (ch. 95 and ch. 96), and other small bits here and there.

And since I am not totally caught up on the story, I hesitate to call this a proper analysis since I'm mostly going off of what I know from the anime at this point. But!

I've been following the chatter and excitement following chapter 96 and I just wanted to throw this quick analysis out there, since I haven't seen some of these details mentioned yet.

So, I'm going to focus on this particular moment, just for what it is. Down the line, after catching up and having all of the character and story details, I might revisit this scene again with additional insight.

Of course, I'm sure we've all seen this panel at this point.

At first glance, this panel is beautifully drawn. You can tell that it was drawn with a lot of care and attention to detail. Typically, such manga panels are used to emphasize the fact that this is an important moment for these characters and/or the story.

There are even bits of confetti(?) flying around them, reminiscent of cherry blossom petals; this is another known technique used in manga to indicate the emotional importance of a scene for the characters featured.

That all feels pretty obvious, I'm sure. But I also wanted to point out other small details given here, which could potentially add another layer to this scene for folks.

I've seen a lot of discussion around how Anya's admission here is a big deal (and it is). But I haven't seen anyone mention the small detail here that she whispers, "I can read people's minds."

I believe that is also why we see that speech bubble transparently -- to visually show us the softness of her voice in that moment (in addition to representing Anya's willingness to be transparent about herself).

However, let's consider the conversation up until this moment. Right before, Damian had jokingly asked her, "How did you know about my dog and the pond, anyway? What, did you read my mind or something?!"

Of course, he was not expecting Anya to say, "Yes". But it's not the fact that Anya said, "Yes" that makes this scene impactful. Anya could have easily said the exact same words, at normal volume, with a smirk on her face, and nobody would think twice about it. Damian would have immediately understood that she was teasing him. And anyone overhearing their conversation would have thought the exact same thing.

But that isn't what happened. Because Anya was serious in that moment. With a genuine expression on her face, she says, "Yes" and then she whispers her secret to him.

And that is what shocks Damian. That is what causes him to freeze.

In that moment, he's able to sense her sincerity and hear the truth in her words.

His gut reaction is to believe her, whether it's because it's Anya or because of how she said it. It isn't until he has a second to think and his brain kicks into gear that he starts to notice the disparity between what he knows to be true and what Anya is telling him. In a split second, he questions this, and then ultimately rejects the notion that she could be telling the truth.

Why?

The obvious answer would be that what she's told him does not line up with what he knows to be true of reality. The rational and logical part of his brain overrides his heart and his gut, ultimately recognizing this disparity and forcing him to reject Anya's claims.

However, they are at a young enough age that it wouldn't be uncommon to easily believe in "impossible" things like magic or superpowers. So, there's also a chance that it goes a bit deeper than this.

Perhaps this sudden display of sincerity and truth from Anya didn't line up with her typical behavior with him. He's not used to seeing that side of her, and as a result, his mind resorts to him thinking that she's lying to him. He thinks that she's just teasing him. Not only because that's what he expects from her, but also because the only other alternative would be for him to admit that they've just shared a true moment of openness and transparency between them.

Anya's whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." As a defense mechanism, Damian's brain decided that it was more likely that Anya was teasing him than it was that she was being vulnerable with him in that way.

Another detail from this moment stems from the fact that this reveal takes place while they are dancing together. Partner dancing is an activity that requires cooperation and teamwork. At first, we see Damian and Anya struggle with getting the hang of it, but eventually they start working together.

That, in itself, seems to be a fairly good representation of their relationship with each other. However, even more so, it follows the flow of their conversation in this moment. It isn't until they start cooperating that they start to open up to one another.

And the pinnacle of the conversation -- the reveal -- happens at the exact moment when Damian dips her. Not only does this make for a picturesque panel, but it is also a symbolic visual of what's happening.

Dipping your dance partner inherently requires a level of trust. The person being dipped has to literally put themselves in their partner's hands. Depending on the dip, they are giving up varying levels of control and safety over to their partner. They have to trust that their partner won't drop them, or bring them too close to the floor; they have to give up their balance and trust that their partner can hold the weight that they're giving up. And their partner takes on the responsibility and burden of that person's trust (as well as trusting that the person that they're dipping does not throw themselves around carelessly).

And here, in this scene, despite the bickering we see Anya and Damian do, we see that there is at least that small amount of trust between them. Anya trusts Damian to dip her, and Damian trusts Anya to be dipped.

But underneath the surface level, the fact that Anya whispers her secret to Damian while he's dipping her reinforces the idea that she trusts him with that knowledge. In that moment, she gave up some of her own control and safety, and placed it in Damian's hands. Only his. Her whisper implies, "this is only for you to know." And he's been given the responsibility and burden of deciding whether to hold it, or drop it.

[zinya]

OBEY ME INCORRECT QUOTES #2

Hey, is your day going well? I had a question before starting: which OM character do you like the least?

This time there is no mention of blood or injury so you can read in peace

Mc- "I love you."

Lucifer-"Please don't."

Solomon who wanted to surprise MC by cooking a new recipe and ended up burning whatever this thing he calls "dish"

Solomon-"Look, I can explain... "

MC- "At this point I don't think I want you to."

Diavolo: "That's suspicious..."

Lucifer who watched MC and his family "What is?"

Diavolo:"This is the first time youve smiled in fourteen years."

Mc and Asmo who bet on who will have the most likes on devilgram

Mc-"How did you defeat me...?"

Asmo-"Because I have something you don't..."

Mc-"Superpowers?"

Asmo- "Well, I was going to say friends.. but yeah, that too."

Diavolo-"I've decided to run off and become a pirate. "

Barbatos-"But your highness, you have a kingdom to run...

Diavolo-"Not anymore!"

Mc- "Violence isn't always the answer."

Satan-"True, but it is an answer."

Mammon-"You can tell me to do whatever you want-"

Mc- "Good, because need一"

Mammon-"But that doesn't mean that I'll listen."

Mc who enters Levi's room and sees him with his sewing machine

Mc-"What are you making?"

Levi-“Bad decisions.”

Lucifer- "I have a secret."

Mc-"Then keep it to yourself. Knowing you, it's probably something that would get me killed again."

Levi- "I'm going to need a week to recover from this..."

Mammon-"We've only been outside for three minutes."

Lucifer-"And this, is exactly what happens when you don't follow instructions."

Mc- "Last time I checked, life doesn't just hand you a book of instructions when you're born."

Mammon- "Even if life did, who would actually follow them?"

Mc-"You look extremely sad."

Asmo-"Thank you."

Mc-"Well, are you alright?"

Asmo-"Yes, I'm fine."

Mc-"You have tears streaming down your face...'

Asmo- "I'm auditioning for a movie, and I have

to be able to cry on command."

Lucifer- "What is that?"

Mammon"Nothing!"

Lucifer"Well, 'nothing' looks a lot like my wallet. How did you get that?"

Mc-"NO."

Mammon-"I didn't even say anything."

Mc- "You didn't have to. That smirk said it for you."

Here are the ideas coming from: ~ThirzahWriteg~ and @Bookingitonthedaily ( Instagram)

I don't know if you like this kind of format, in any case I have a lot of fun making them, and of course sorry for any spelling mistakes you might see in the posts.

On that note have a good day, believe in yourself and do everything you can yesterday doesn't matter anymore but today does.💙

[strangersteddierthings]

Bad News First, Eddie

Part One 🦇 Part Two🦇Part Three🦇FInal Part

Whew! I don’t think I’ve written this much in such a short amount of time ever in my life. The boys deserve a soft ending, I think. Enjoy!

-

It goes like this. While Eddie's been lost in his own mind, his body was living. Sort of.

Top secret government assisted living, kinda living. For a secret government hospital one would think the place would be fancier or something but it's just a regular looking hospital.

Eddie's in therapy, both for his body and mind.

He learns that the voice he heard when Eleven helped pull him from the depths of his mind was Mike Wheeler of all people, and he sounds different because he's nineteen and in college. Mike mocks him on graduating before Eddie. He regrets it when Eddie gets him into a headlock.

-

He gets to meet Eleven, outside of his mind. And he starts calling her El. Part of him can't stop thinking about Eleven as the entity he thought was going to lead him to the great beyond.

She is just a person. Sorta.

Dustin had told him there was a girl with superpowers and Eddie is glad she's real. Not that he thought Dustin would lie about this (actually, he might have thought Dustin was lying just to give him some weird version of a pep talk. Everything said before going through Watergate was suspect if he's honest).

-

When he's finally well enough to be able to leave, Doctor Owens tells him their plan.

They're gonna convince Wayne to fly to Tennessee. Eddie, El, and Mike Wheeler are gonna be flown there, too. There's a place for them to stay, to meet up with his uncle in private.

They'll stay there a month. Doctor Owens knows a doctor who can do Eddie's final evaluations before he can really go home.

That's the real kicker.

Hawkins fucking sucks. Small town, narrow views, non-conformity gets you called a Freak in the same way his Dad used to call him a fag. Like he said, fucking sucks.

But it's also the sanctuary he escaped to when he was eleven years old. It's the place where his uncle built a home for him.

So, back to Hawkins first. He can always go somewhere else later. Maybe a coastal city. See the ocean.

-

Eddie hasn't been afraid of a reaction from his uncle since that day in the hospital parking lot after he caught Eddie making out with another guy. He's got that same fear inside now, though, knowing that when El opens that door, he'll see the family he feels like he abandoned. It's not fair to himself to think that, his therapist would say, but he's allowed to have crazy thoughts right now. He's come back from being (not)dead and gets to see Wayne again for the first time. Knowing his feelings are justified doesn't make them fade, though, so he's not surprised his voice shakes when the door finally opens. “Hey Uncle Wayne.”

Wayne takes less than two seconds to reach Eddie, pulling him into a bone crushing hug. “I love you so much, you little bastard. Don’t you ever, ever do this to me again.”

It's all Eddie can do to remain upright and hug him back, clinging to his shirt like he's eleven years old again.

-

Wayne gives him an overview of what he's missed after the Upside Down came into their world (he heard that part from El and Mike, against the better wishes of Doctor Owens). Learns that Wayne and Steve live in Steve's childhood home because his parents just gifted it to him, apparently. That Wayne is only part time at the plant now due to an accident he had, and how that sparked his current living conditions.

Learns that Steve and Wayne became close because, unbelievably, Steve Harrington goes to his grave in the cemetery and cleans off graffiti on the regular.

Eddie feels a little hot under the collar because his brain reminds him of a fact he’d heard once; that the author of Frankenstein lost her virginity on her mother’s grave and a little voice in the back of his head whispers that it'd be hot for him to do the same thing with Steve on his own grave.

He has to scamper to the bathroom to scold himself in the mirror because he cannot be having these kinds of thoughts about Steve while talking to his uncle!

-

Wayne asks him, the night before their flight, “what’s something you want to do, once everything is settled and life starts to feel normal again?”

“I wanna go on a vacation. Like, a real, bona fide, family vacation.”

“Where you wanna go?”

“Think I’d like to see the ocean.”

Wayne smiles softly. “Alright. When you feel ready for it, we’ll go.”

-

“Just give him a chance, Eddie,” Wayne says randomly, as they wait to board their flight to Indianapolis.

“Give him a chance? As if I’d waste it,” Eddie feels breathless at just the thought. It's certainly not helping that stupid crush he's been harboring for years, knowing how Steve’s been treating his uncle. It was one thing to watch Steve defend Jeff that one time in high school; it's an entirely different ball game knowing he's watched over his uncle with care and devotion for years. “He took care of you when I couldn’t. He cares. I don’t think there’s a chance I wouldn’t give him.”

“How long have you had a thing for Steve?”

Eddie's brain screeches to a halt because he was didn't think anything he'd just said would give him away. He can't even think of a reply good enough to throw his uncle off his trail. “That’s not- why would you think- when have I ever!?”

“You think I wouldn’t know this about you?” Wayne chuckles.

No. No, Eddie thinks, of course you could take one look at me and know. His uncle had been able to know everything about him so effortlessly. But Eddie doesn't have to answer, so he won't. “So, we’ll be living with Steve Harrington? Will he… be okay with me being there?”

“Yeah. Steve and I had each other when we needed it. Now I need you, so Steve won’t mind at all," Wayne sounds so sure, so convinced, that Eddie is too.

Eddie smiles, pulling a strand of his hair to hide his face behind as he imagines getting to eat at the same dinner table as Steve fucking Harrington. He doesn't even mind that Wayne gives him a look at says 'you are being so obvious right now' because he is. He knows he is. He's allowed to be. Wayne's not going to mock him for his crush.

-

On the drive from Indianapolis to Hawkins, Wayne tells him the lie he told Steve. Apparently, Steve thinks Eddie's dad is coming to stay for a while. The mere thought of that sets Eddie on edge, even though he knows Wyatt Munson's still in prison. Will be for a long time, with the list of shit they got him for.

They roll into Hawkins shortly after, and while Eddie may have not been in Hawkins the last five years, and he's willing to admit that things might have changed things up since they did have to rebuild a lot of the town, he's certain that Steve's house is on the other side of it. “This isn’t the way to the Harrington house."

“Steve won’t be there. He comes here when he’s overwhelmed," Wayne says. It's still pretty jarring to hear Wayne talk about Steve like this. Like he knows him. Which, he does, obviously, because they've gotten to know each other.

Still mind blowing to think about.

“The cemetery?” is what comes out of his mouth, though.

Wayne knows what's he's really meaning to ask, though, because he shrugs and says, “we both come talk to you. Steve always starts with the bad news, you know. I think you should start with good news. Just this once." The car is slowing down, and Wayne is pointing out the front windshield, to a figure crouched down near a lone headstone. "Ah. See, there he is.”

Steve. He's too far away for Eddie to be sure sure but if anyone is still wearing bright polo shirts tucked into light wash jeans this far after leaving high school, it'd be Steve Harrington. Eddie's not even sure the car is fully stopped when he all but falls out of it.

He doesn't run to greet Steve, because that's a bit dramatic, but he's not too proud to admit he might be power walking. He slows down when he gets closer, coming to a full stop just close enough to hear Steve talking to his grave. Talking to him.

"Bad news, Eds. I'm too much of a coward to meet your old man. Afraid of what he'll sound like. Because I want him to sound like you so fucking bad it hurts. So instead of being home, I'm hiding here."

"Well, I've some bad news for you, too, Stevie. I got my voice from my mom," Eddie says, and almost instantly cringes because Wayne literally just told him to start with good news and he didn't. Eddie doesn't have much time to soak in his embarrassment, though, because Steve whips around so fast that Eddie's dizzy from the movement.

Steve looks older but it's in the way people who have seen more than their fair share of Hell look older, and less about actual aging. His eyes are wide and stunned. Eddie watches as his jaw moves but no words come out. He looks like he's seen a ghost which... ok, that's fair.

"Umm," Eddie says, a little worried he's broken him when Steve doesn't even seem to be blinking as he stares at Eddie. "Good news, Steve. I, uh, I lived. Kinda. El kinda pulled me back to the surface of my mind, or whatever, and Owens did a good job at patchin' up the goods here," he gestures to his whole body with a sweeping motion of his hand and wishes that a gate to the Upside Down would open beneath his feet and suck him back to Hell because could he be any more embarrassing?

"A-are you," he watches as Steve swallows and takes a deep breath. He's still not sure Steve has blinked yet. "real?"

"Yeah," Eddie nods, taking a few steps closer, "yeah, I'm real. I'm here and alive and real."

Steve launches himself forward then, meeting him halfway. It's so goddamn surreal be witness to how tenderly Steve actually reaches out to him, though, such a contrast to the flurry of movement he'd been just a second ago. Eddie stays still as Steve lifts shaking hands to cup his face with, pushing against his cheeks as if to test whether or not Eddie is solid. Those hands slide down, along his neck, across his shoulders, down his arms where Steve seems to need to pause and collect himself again, hands wrapped loosely around his arms just below his elbows while Steve shuts his eyes and a low, broken sound pulls itself from his throat before his eyes open again, wet with tears, and he releases Eddie just long enough to throw his arms around his neck and pull him into a hug almost as crushing as the one he shared with his uncle.

It's overwhelming in this moment. To see how much he means to Steve and not fully understand how he came to mean anything to him at all.

Doesn't stop him from wrapping his own arms around Steve's waist, though.

-

It goes like this.

He gets his own room at Harrington's house. Wayne has his own room, too. How strange it is, to not have his uncle sleeping the day away on the couch because the trailer had one room and he'd given it to Eddie.

They adjust to living together so seamlessly. Like they were always meant to be family.

They have dinner together. Real homecooked meals. Which isn't a novelty for Wayne and Steve anymore, but Eddie's memory ends five years ago, when his dinners consisted of microwavable meals or left over snacks from lunch. Wayne cooks on the days when Steve works, and Eddie helps. Gets to be taught how to cook.

For a while, Eddie is afraid to leave the house. Even knowing that Jason Carver bit the dust the same day he was supposed to also doesn’t help. He only goes places with Wayne and Steve, and even then, the double takes people send his way are enough to make him want to shrink into himself.

However, no one says anything to him. He's vaguely aware that everyone here lived through some sort of miniature apocalypse and maybe that's the kind of thing that has to happen to make a small town in Indiana change.

-

He and Steve dance around each other. He can feel it. There is something here, between them, that neither fully acknowledges.

He tries to talk to Wayne about it, but he won't give him much to go on.

"I won't be the one to say anything about what Steve thinks of you. That's gotta come from Steve. I will say this. He's waiting for you to bring it up first."

"Why does it have to be me?"

"He's had five years to gather his thoughts and emotions," Wayne levels him with a Look, "you gotta have the time to figure yourself out, too."

Well, fuck.

-

Steve waits until it's almost summer break for the kids (they’re not really kids anymore, though, but Eddie’s adjusting to that still) to ask if he's ready to face them. "It'll be a lot to handle," Steve says as he sits next to Eddie on their couch (their couch. He can't believe that's a truth in his life right now). "Eleven and Mike haven't told anyone yet, but they want to. It wasn't just Wayne and I that grieved for you."

"I know," Eddie says, "I know. I'm good. I'm alive and here and I want them to know about it."

Steve nods slowly, not fully focused on Eddie. Eddie's come to know that means he's thinking, so Eddie waits for him to speak. "Would you prefer to meet with everyone... one at a time?"

"What's the other option?"

"Well, I always host a barbeque when they all come back. Could tell everyone all at once. Like ripping off a Band-Aid."

Eddie crooks a smile because he's a bit mischievous and his mind instantly plays a scene where he walks into a backyard full of all the people he's come to care for, and who care for him, and he's trying to best to be casual about it in this fantasy. "Yeah. Let's do the barbeque thing."

-

"Bad news, Stevie," Eddie whispers as he leans against the wall next his closed door, trying not to hyperventilate. "I don't know if I can do this."

Steve reaches out and takes one of Eddie's hands in his own, linking their fingers like it's a casual thing they do all the time when it's most certainly not. "Good news, Eds. You don't have to. We didn't tell anyone you're here. You can stay in your room until they're gone, and we'll figure out another way to tell them."

Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and thinks he might be crushing all the bones in Steve's hand with how hard he's clenching it. "What if they're mad at me?"

Steve understands the real question Eddie is asking, the one he doesn't know how to phrase. "You were dead, Eds, and no one out in that yard is going to be 'mad' about any time they'd spent grieving over you. There's gonna be a lot of tears, man, like a lot. Maybe even some shouting. None of it done in anger."

"How're you sure?"

Steve lifts his unoccupied hand and cups Eddie's check. Steve’s eyes are watery and his voice is a bit choked, but he says, "because I was there. I saw them through their grief. Everyone in the backyard either loves you already, or they will."

It's so fucking intimate, how close they are, how tenderly Steve touches him. Wayne had said he'd need to take the first step, so he blames Wayne when he blurts out, "what about everyone in this room? They love me, too?"

Steve's eyes go wide in surprise before his whole face lights up in a way Eddie has never seen before. It makes Steve look younger, less haunted, and then Steve whispers, "of course I love you," like there is no other answer Steve could have given.

Eddie grabs a handful as Steve's polo shirt and pulls him close enough to kiss.

Butterflies and fireworks erupt within Eddie. Kissing Steve is so much better than he's ever let himself imagine. They're still holding hands and Steve's still got his other hand resting so softly on his cheek and Steve's lips are kinda chapped but fuck does the briefest touch of their lips together make Eddie lose all his breath.

It's not deep, or all consuming. There's not even an exchange of tongue. Steve kisses him softly, gently, pulls back to pepper little kisses all over Eddie's face that has him blushing more than he's ever done in his life, and Steve places one, two, three more kisses to his lips before pulling back to look at Eddie like he's the answer to every prayer Steve's ever had. It makes his knees weak.

"I think," Eddie pauses to lick his lips, "I think I'll be brave enough to do it if you're holding my hand."

"Just try and pry yourself away, Munson," Steve teases. "Whenever you're ready."

-

Steve was right about the tears and shouting. He was also right that no one is mad at him.

Dustin hugs him so hard they fall over in the yard and Eddie finds himself part of a dog pile that starts with crying that turns into laughter that leads back into crying, everyone grabbing at him and him grabbing back.

It's emotional. It's overwhelming. It's the best fucking day of Eddie Munson's life.

-

Doctor Owens reaches out towards the end of summer to let him know they're issuing him a new social security card. Eddie asks if he's allowed to change him name. Owens says yes.

-

"Bad news first, Eddie," Eddie says to himself as he kneels in front of his own headstone. "You've become so boring and normal, no one vandalizes your grave anymore. Good news, though. Means I can do it myself."

Before him is his headstone, a thick red line painted through his death date. Another more carefully applied line is struck through his middle name. Above it he's painted in block letters 'Wayne'.

"Eddie, come on! This road trip's gonna start without you," Steve calls from where he's leaning against the side of Wayne's pickup.

Eddie is satisfied with his work, so he abandons the paint and returns to the pickup. He slides across the bench seat, one leg pretzeled under himself to be out of the way of the gear shift. Steve follows in after, shutting the door and reaching for Eddie's hand automatically.

He's got Wayne to his left, Steve to his right, and the first family vacation he's ever taken in his life ahead of him.

Good news, Eddie Wayne Munson. Maybe everyday going forward can be the best fucking day of your life.

[vinelark]

ALL timkon recs I BEG

hello hi! here are some of my favs! it got long so putting some under the cut

💄 Lipstick on the glass by @cairoscene read for timkon being soft and goofy and disgustingly in love, set in vague future college-y years with amazing core four dynamics too. cair is one of the funniest people to ever exist and we are so blessed that they decided to write some timkon. (also read for my own greatest contribution to literature, the fictional “jerry the void nexus” meme)

🎢 been a number and a name by @wynterstars i had SO MUCH FUN reading this one, a 90s comics-divergent AU where robin and superboy become friends—and crushes—when superboy is pretty new on the scene. feat. lex luthor being terrible, tim staging a rescue operation that at one point involves platform shoes and a blonde wig, spice girls references, and fantastic action sequences. it’s also a series, with an installment focusing on kon & clark, and a currently updating longfic sequel with SO MANY timkon identity shenanigans (my beloved) and kon feelings (also my beloved).

📸 the surveillance series by @smilebackwards i feel like i rec this all the time but it’s because it’s THAT GOOD. a tim-centric AU where tim joins the family late, but is still involved in bat business without the bats realizing. there’s some fun timkon identity shenanigans at the top, and some of my all-time favorite tim characterization (ruthless! lonely! brilliant!) plus a great tim & bruce arc, too.

🦉 Detours by miyaji_08 this is part 2 of a series and i def recommend reading the whole thing! a reverse robins + joker jr au that has lots of trauma and lots of healing, and in part 2 there’s timkon identity shenanigans that’s simultaneously enemies to lovers + And They Were Roommates. tim sure does run a gauntlet of horrors in this series, but it has so much healing and also one of my fav reverse robins concepts i’ve read so far.

📱 unfurl by @burins tim and kon might be dating, and there’s no kryptonian sex ed handy. bruce, being bruce, makes it his business, which means talking to clark and Realizing some things about his own feelings. superbat are billed first here, but i think timkon steal the show—i laughed out loud like five different times reading this. hilarious and sweet on all sides. (and if you like this, check out their timkon road trip fic!)

🌾 A Saturday Evening by malcyon in which tim visits the kent farm for family dinner with kon, feat. very sweet established relationship timkon and fun superfamily dynamics, and it touches on tim’s past grief over kon’s death (and complicated feelings post-undeath).

🤼‍♂️ Sore Loser by @hearteyeshayley kon learns that tim always let him win while sparring, and has to process that. this was such a fun exploration of tim’s prowess as a fighter—one who regularly has to go up against superpowered friends and foes alike—and also tim as a person who is always doing mental calculations about the people around him (in an endearing way). kon, too, got his time to shine and grow, and the ending was so smart and sweet.

🔮 Ascension by Violet_Witch an AU longfic where tim is a witchling and kon is a fallen angel who has (oops) just lost his wings. tim sets out to help get kon’s wings back, and there’s a ticking clock because angel wings are dangerous in the wrong hands—and tim has a big, horrible secret that’s about to come due. the plot/worldbuilding of this was WILDLY cool, and there was a big ol misunderstanding in the middle that had me clawing my face off (in a good way).

🌌 straight on ’til morning by merils kon vs. the terrifying ordeal of growing up, feat. sweet friends-to-lovers timkon and really thoughtful exploration of some of kon’s canon past relationships and their abusive dynamics. i haven’t finished this one yet but it’s been rec’d multiple times and i’m excited to dive back in (and it's recently complete!)—and what i have read so far gave me an amazing sequence of kon and dick interacting and dick’s big brother mode activating in an instant, which is something i now desperately need more of.

📧 aaaand would it even be a reclist by me if i didn’t include send to all by @cairoscene the absolute moment i find myself feeling down i go reread this and boom. i am instantly laughing again. timkon are just one part of a bat grab-bag here but they are so so funny and cute and in-character. maybe one day i’ll compile the timkon-centric sequel that exists in my head but for now i’ll just go reread this for the zillionth time.

okay yeah!! i’m probably missing so many good fics here because i constantly have like a zillion tabs open that i plan to read someday. also i reserve the right to reblog later like OH I FORGOT— but in the meanwhile, happy timkon reading!

[wangxianficrecs]

Wei Wuxian, worst supervillain by antebunny

Wei Wuxian, worst supervillain

by antebunny (@antebunny)

G, 3k, Wangxian

Summary: Lan Wangji has never met a worse supervillain. He finds this rather remarkable considering that he has, during his tenure as Hanguang-jun, fought quite a large number of villains. Certainly some of them, like Wen Ruohan’s two successors, Wen Xu and Wen Chao, lacked style, as did Su She and Jin Zixun. But what they lacked in style, each and every one of them made up for in sheer villany. Even Wang Lingjiao didn’t hesitate to kick a puppy she saw on the street. The Yiling Patriarch, on the other hand. Well. Mojo's comments: Adorable. Excerpt: It’s on a stormy night that Lan Wangji finds the Yiling Patriarch leaning against the side of a building, deep in some alleyway, clutching his side with one hand. His breath comes out in erratic bursts, and his sopping wet hair runs down his face and his back like ink down a brush. His silver eyes are dull when he sees Lan Wangji land lightly on the paved ground, clear umbrella held above his head, moonlight filtering through the plastic. They barely register shock, or fear, or anything else. The Yiling Patriarch slowly pulls his hand away from his ribs, lets both of them hang by his side. Black liquid drips off his hands like ink onto paper. “Have you ever seen blood in the moonlight, Lan Wangji?” The Yiling Patriarch asks. “It appears…” He lifts his hands. Raindrops pelt his palms, rinsing away the dark liquid. “…Quite black.” Lan Wangji looks at him. The Yiling Patriarch tilts his head back, closes his eyes. He lets rain pelt his face as well, as if it could wash him away. “No one at the prison died,” he says. “There’s that, at least,” the Yiling Patriarch murmurs after a pause. 

pov lan wangji, modern setting, secret identities, superheroes/superpowers, fluff, attempt at humor, light angst, tooth-rotting fluff, crack treated seriously, superhero lan wangji, supervillain wei wuxian

~*~

(Please REBLOG as a signal boost for this hard-working author if you like – or think others might like – this story.)

[harunayuuka2060]

Kid MC: *is now seven years old* Are we going to Majolish again, Papa?

Simeon: *chuckles* Yes. We need to buy you new clothes.

Kid MC: *pouts* But we bought some clothes the other day.

Simeon: Did we? Papa can't seem to remember.

Kid MC: *pouts even more*

Simeon: *laughs* *carries them up*

Simeon: Papa will buy us matching outfits. That sounds great to you?

Kid MC: Hm! But you need to cover when you're trying on clothes, Papa!

Simeon: Why?

Kid MC: Women are drooling when they see you.

Simeon: I— Where did you learn to speak that way?

Kid MC: Uncle Asmo!

Simeon: Hm-hm. Looks like I have to lecture your uncle.

Kid MC: It's true though! They're visibly drooling!

Simeon: *slightly embarrassed* MC... *chuckles*

Lucifer: Has anyone seen Simeon?

Mammon: He went shopping with the lil' nugget.

Lucifer: Ah, I see.

Lucifer: ...

Lucifer: When he arrives, just tell him to go to my study. There's something I would like to discuss with him.

Belphie: Is it about the Celestial Realm asking him to come back?

Mammon: No joke? They haven't stopped?

Lucifer: Unfortunately, they're being persistent.

Simeon: What is this important matter you want to discuss?

Lucifer: The obvious one.

Simeon: Really? *frowning a little* I had already given them my answer.

Lucifer: Raphael will be paying us a visit.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: Just great.

Lucifer: Do you want to stay in the Demon Lord's Castle for a while?

Simeon: Yes. I think that would be better.

Kid MC: *entering the study* Papa!

Simeon: *smiles* Yes?

Kid MC: *runs to him* I received a letter from Uncle Luke!

Simeon: *a bit shocked* Really?

Kid MC: Hm! But it's a secret message and I can't read it! *giving the letter to him*

Simeon: Oh. *chuckles* Let's see— *his face turned serious*

Lucifer: ...

Kid MC: *jumping in excitement* What did it say, Papa?!

Simeon: *forced a smile* W-Well... It says that he might visit us in the near future.

Kid MC: Like a vacation?!

Simeon: Y-Yes...

Kid MC: Yay! I'm writing a reply to Uncle Luke! *runs out of the study*

Simeon: ...

Lucifer: *gets the letter from him*

Lucifer: *glares at it* Please tell me they're not being serious about this.

Simeon: ...

Luke's message:

I overheard the conversation between Michael and Raphael.

They want to turn MC into an angel.

Isn't that going to be a painful process for them, Simeon?

Kid MC: Why are we staying in the Demon Lord's Castle, Papa?

Simeon: The brothers had destroyed some parts of the house.

Kid MC: But they've always been destroying stuff.

Simeon: *chuckles* Yes.

Kid MC: Can't they just fix the house?

Simeon: The renovation will take some time.

Kid MC: Uncle Tantan could fix it in seconds.

Simeon: *chuckles*

Barbatos: *welcomes them at the entrance*

Barbatos: Good day. The young master is waiting.

Kid MC: Uncle Barbatos! *goes to hug him*

Barbatos: *smiles* *lifting them up* Why, hello? You've grown so much.

Kid MC: We just saw each other last month, Uncle.

Barbatos: Oh. Did we?

Simeon: I apologize for the sudden notice.

Barbatos: No need to apologize. We were expecting you.

Diavolo: It seems they're targeting your child.

Simeon: *has asked Barbatos to play with MC while he's discussing things with Diavolo*

Simeon: So it seems.

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo: You must be so afraid for the safety of your child.

Simeon: ...

Simeon: I'm sure everyone in Celestial Realm thinks they're doing me a favor. Except with Luke, of course. *smiles bitterly*

Diavolo: ...

Diavolo: We will protect you and your child. Just as what we have promised to you when you first arrived here.

Simeon: Thank you, Diavolo. I really appreciate it.

Kid MC: Uncle Barbatos? Do all demons have superpowers?

Barbatos: I think so. Yes.

Kid MC: How can I know what's mine?

Barbatos: It depends. Why are you asking about superpowers anyway?

Kid MC: I want to make Papa smile!

Barbatos: Hm? Isn't Simeon always smiling?

Kid MC: Yes! But Papa doesn't smile like his real smile! Sometimes he's faking it!

Barbatos: ...

Barbatos: Well, adults get tired sometimes. And of course, your father doesn't want to show it in front of you.

Kid MC: Really?

Barbatos: Yes. Really.

Kid MC: Hmm... But if I get my superpowers, I want Papa to be really really happy!

Barbatos: *chuckles* I'm sure he is already since the day you were born.

[technofantasia]

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's had 24/7 access to a secret superpower that lets him instantly and completely fix anything that goes wrong in his life. Anything that breaks, anyone that gets hurt, anything that happens and has a negative result can be immediately rewound and brushed off as if it never happened with nobody ever the wiser; after all, it's not like anyone he's met can even SEE his stand, let alone realize he's using it to do anything. Even if he does it while someone else is present, would they really believe that Josuke has some sort of healing superpower over the idea that they were just wrong about the thing having been broken in the first place? Probably not.

What kind of effect would that power have on a developing kid?

Imagine that he's playing a video game and he's getting really frustrated because he keeps dying in the same place over and over. If that happened to you, what would you do? Maybe gear up to chuck the controller into the TV? But, wait, you can't do that! If you did, it might be satisfying for a second, but then you'd have to deal with the fallout of a broken TV and an angry parent. Not worth it. Josuke, on the other hand? If HE totally destroyed the TV, he could have that momentary satisfaction of letting the frustration out, then just quickly fix the TV and get back to the grind. No harm, no foul, no bits of glass to sweep out of the carpet or mother tearing her hair out in upset. Of COURSE he'd do it. Why wouldn't he?

Imagine that he forgets his locker combination, because oops head too full of teenage miscellany. Would he go through the effort of fumbling around to find whichever pocket he shoved the slip of paper with his combination in to open it while he's already late to class? Or would he just tear the door off its hinges, retrieve his stuff, and shove it back on in two seconds flat? Imagine that he's messing around with some friends trying to climb a huge tree, when one of them falls getting two broken bones and a concussion. Would he call the friend an ambulance and decide climbing tall trees is too dangerous? Or would he just climb down, heal the friend back up, say something to the effect of "oh wow, good thing you ended up okay!", and continue doing what he was doing safe in the knowledge that his stand could save him or cushion the fall if HE ever slipped? (He may not be able to HEAL himself, but he can certainly protect himself from the same kinds of damage other people get.)

Those are all just hypotheticals, but we do see examples of him doing those kinds of things in the series. He beats up anyone who pisses him off only to instantly heal them afterwards. He tears off Hazamada's locker door to look inside without a second thought. In the wake of his grandpa's murder, he destroys and fixes a ton of furniture in his house. He mentions fixing a friend's broken leg. He DEFINITELY doesn't shy away from anything dangerous, and not just out of general shounen recklessness. When Aqua Necklace hides inside his mother's body, he forgoes any convoluted plan to save her and just punches her through the stomach without hesitation because he knows with 100% certainty, the certainty of lived experience, that she'd be completely fine afterwards, that she wouldn't even notice. He waited to try healing his grandpa when he saw him sprawled across the floor because he didn't have a doubt in his mind that, even if he took his time getting there, as soon as he did he'd be up again like nothing happened. (He was only wrong once.)

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he's learned that being reckless almost never leads to consequences. He's learned that its okay to make mistakes because pretty much any mistake he makes can be quickly and easily fixed with no lasting damage. He's learned that, as long as he's the one who takes responsibility for something, everything turns out okay for everyone.

We can see all that easily in his personality and the way he acts. He's unbelievably chill, cool-headed and reasonable even in situations where NOBODY would be; stakes are very different for somebody who can effortlessly reverse anything short of death, so of course he doesn't panic at those sorts of things. By contrast, things like "no money" or "waded into leech pool" (or, for a more serious example that comes up in the series, "friend/family is missing") are not as easily fixed and thus are a much bigger deal.

Despite how much it takes to make him full on panic, though, he is far from careful on a regular day. Sure, he may be chill, but all that means is that he'll calmly and deliberately do something insane instead of doing it in a panicked frenzy. We see dozens of examples of Josuke casually thinking his way out of situations by coming up with a crazy reckless solution on the spot that would be a last-ditch measure by anyone else, just because he's so used to thinking with his stand's ability in mind. (While you could maybe argue this applies to most Jojo protagonists, I still think Josuke manages to be one of the most reckless on-the-spot planners in the series while also being one of the most generally well-collected AND having a solidly in-place sense of self preservation, which is still an interesting combination in contrast with the other protagonists.)

It's worth noting, of course, that Josuke DOES have a bit of a (literal) hair-trigger temper, but rages on Josuke are short, concentrated, and in a strange sense, controlled. While he's certainly much less reasonable and more destructive than usual when in rage mode, said destruction never extends past the source of the anger; he feels mad, so he lets it out, handles the situation, and almost instantly falls back to baseline. Like chucking a controller at a TV and fixing it back up. A controlled explosion.

All of this is to say that, even when Josuke does reckless or destructive things, it's not because Josuke himself is a reckless or destructive person; far from it. Josuke's top priority is keeping the peace. Why else would he choose to be so meek towards bullies on the first day of school, even knowing he could wipe the floor with them? Why else would his first reaction to being told he was the result of an affair be to humbly apologize for the trouble his existence caused, instead of any kind of personal confusion or upset? The only reason he acts how he does is because he knows from experience that inserting himself into a situation, striking fast and hard however is appropriate, then fixing up the aftermath, is the most efficient way to solve problems for himself and everyone around him. He's not a pushover. He'll stand up for himself and what's important to him when he needs to. But ultimately he just wants the best for everyone, and since he's been gifted the ability to fix things, to heal, doesn't it make sense to use it?

In that way, Josuke acts as a perfect foil to Kira. Neither of them deny themselves whatever they want, neither of them are used to experiencing consequences for their actions, and both of them just want a peaceful life; the difference is, Kira destroys problems. Josuke fixes them.

An interesting side effect of this mindset is that Josuke ends up taking on responsibility for all sorts of things that are in no way his burdens to bear. We see a number of times throughout the series that he never backs away from a situation he could potentially do something about, to the point of even inserting himself into situations he really doesn't need to. Any time he CAN heal someone, he does; in the Harvest episode, in particular, Josuke heals a number of tiny injuries Okuyasu picked up without comment as soon as he could. It's so ingrained that, during their dice game, Rohan mutilates himself in order to keep Josuke from running away, since he knew Josuke would never leave him like that even though they hate each other. Of course Josuke would consider it his responsibility to heal the hand Rohan messed up himself such that he'd stay in a terrible situation he could easily walk away from just for the opportunity to heal him. It's a no-brainer.

And because Josuke takes on so much extra responsibility, because Josuke is considered by both all his friends and himself to be the multi-purpose get out of jail free card, he takes it that much harder whenever anything seriously goes wrong. There's almost a level of existential disbelief to it. Sure, anybody would be upset when something bad happens, like, say, a family member or friend dying because of your own negligence, but with Josuke... When his grandpa dies, and then paralleled later when Okuyasu gets blown up by Killer Queen, he sounds confused. Like he just experienced something impossible. People can't die around him. It's not even a question. He has a healing superpower! People can't die around someone with a healing superpower, especially not when they're literally a few steps away!! So, then, if it really did happen, what does that say about him? When he gets the call from Koichi during the fight against Sheer Heart Attack, he panics and rushes into action immediately. It's easy to imagine what could have been flashing through his mind.

Because of his stand, the stand he got after a formative experience when he was just a small kid, he always has the unique ability to help. To help himself, to help others. All he has to do is put in the effort, show as much kindness as he can as soon as it's needed, and he can keep everyone happy and healthy. At the end of the day, if he can do something, he will. Every time.

The thing about Josuke is that, since the age of four, he decided that he wanted to be like the person who saved him when he and his mom were stranded in the snow. He saw the way that guy went out of his way to help a total stranger, showing kindness to people who needed it more than he could ever know, taking off his coat in the cold despite his own injuries just because it was the right thing to do, and he thought: "I want to be like that". Through that decision, he received the power to do just that. Over the years, he used that power again and again; for himself, for others, for everyone he could. And eventually, that's exactly the kind of person he grew into.

[oonajaeadira]

Detected

Fandom: Merge Mansion / Tim Rockford

Pairing: Tim Rockford x f!reader

Reader: Adult female. No other physical descriptors; no use of y/n.

Rating: T. Fluff.

Warnings: Mention of serial killer that targets women.

Summary: Nobody sees you the way Tim does.

A/N: I dunno, I just had a hankering to write for Tim and looked down my list of tropes thinking I might be able to scratch the itch and accomplish a fic for my Year of Tropes at the same time. Something hit me in the right places for a little piece of sweetness, so here we go, with SECRET IDENTITY.

This is really fluffy. Like stupid fluffy. Moreso than my regular stuff. Just let me have my little trope. This one didn't go through a lot of draft revisions, it was just a fun little thot that needed out.

“Why don’t you take the afternoon off, Sunshine? Get some rest. You’ve been here ten days straight.”

Tim’s the only detective in the unit who talks to you directly, certainly the only one that doesn’t just call you ‘hon’ or ‘sweetheart’ or ‘girl.’ You’re pretty sure he’s probably the only one in the department that knows your name, but he rarely uses it. 

That isn’t unusual. You’ve always been the quiet one, the mouse, the wallflower. It’s your superpower, being able to go unnoticed. You’ve never been reprimanded, never bad-talked, never held up as a bad example.

But then, neither do you often find yourself praised or called in for opinion. Never once have you been asked to join anyone for happy hour or coffee.

So many times you’ve been standing in a meeting room and not once been addressed. So many times you’ve overheard something that perhaps you shouldn’t have just because you were below anyone’s notice.

It bothered you so much more when you were younger. Not the case anymore.

You’ve learned to love your quiet life, shuffling around the records room, carefully tagging and bagging, filling out the document cards, compiling files, taking meticulous photos of items for court cases and detective scrutiny. Nobody comes looking for you, so you get to take your time, a kind of professional meditation. At least once a week you notice a detail on a piece of evidence that you might make known to one of the team. Usually this gets you a thanks, but more often times a brush off that ends in the detective later gaining the credit for the discovery.

Tim is different. Observant. He actually listens when you bring him something of interest and asks for your opinion or your second eye. He still does that thing where he puts the pictures of people and evidence you provide up on the wall and connects it with string. He will stare at that board for hours, getting up every now and then to pace, then turning the chair around to straddle it backwards so he can lean over the back and look again, hoping to find the one connection that the string can’t touch.

And yet, even when he’s concentrating this hard, he’s fully aware of his surroundings.

So much so that he even notices you’ve slipped into the room to stand behind him--you, who goes mostly unnoticed when standing in full view of most people.

When you don’t answer him, he turns his chin back over his shoulder, his sharp profile coming into relief against the organized mess of the illuminated case wall. 

He’s so very handsome. And it’s a shame he doesn’t seem to know. Or care.

Snapping free of your musings, you finally answer. “Yeah, it’s been a busy week. I’ve still got the Murray case to document. There’s a lot of entries.”

Turning fully to look at you now, he takes his time formulating a new response. “That case is closed. There’s no hurry. You work too hard. It’s Saturday.”

You shrug and smile. “I like my job. And you're one to talk.” Nodding to the evidence wall, you step more fully into the room. “Any movement on this? Sure I can’t help you? Anything I can pull from archives?”

This is a tough one. There’s a lot of speculation as to the mangled bodies in the pictures. A new one found last night, a week old. The probability is high that there’s one club downtown that’s producing them all and a definite suspect, but the record’s clean. There’s no grounds for warrants.

He gives you one more thoughtful glance before turning back to his work. “Not unless you have anything that correlates this last one to Club 88 or to Mike Cross. But no. Thanks. Get out of here, live your life, be free. I’m gonna go grab an interview out at the pier but then I’ll be here all night.”

He’s hungry. You can see that look in his eyes, he’s close, he just needs that one connecting piece of evidence and he’ll empty the coffee pots in the breakroom tonight looking for one.

“You’re hungry, Detective Rockford. At least let me call in some takeout for you before I go? Lau’s number 22 with chicken, right?”

He simply nods. “Thanks, Sunshine.”

“You got it, Detective.”

—-

Your pager goes off two hours later.

Special case. Could use your help. Pier 13.

You’ve been waiting for the call.

Upon arriving home from the department, you’d closed your blinds and turned off the lights, pulled on the dark pants and long fitted coat, tucked your hair up under the black hood and pulled it low. Gloves. Boots. Plain and unassuming in this fall weather.

You’re able to walk out the back door of your apartment building and take a path through the alley as the sun is setting without anyone giving you a second glance.

The only piece of your disguise you truly need is the vocal changer mask, but that stays tucked in your coat pocket until you arrive at the pier.

Once you can smell the water, you take a moment to hide your face, your voice, and your identity under the dark, nondescript mask–a blank slate of void where a face should be–before stepping out of the alleys and making your way to pier 13 where Tim Rockford stands looking out over the harbor at the lights starting to come on over the bridge.

“What can I do for you, Detective?” The voice that grates out of your mask is low, warped, almost sultry.

Tim, for all his awareness, misses your entrance. This is the strength of your powers. Snapping out of his reverie, he spins to find you only feet away, your long coat fluttering in the breeze.

And an awed smile spreads across his face.

Tim is the only one on the force that smiles when you show up as the Shadow. The rest of the cops tend to startle, recoil, not understanding how you simply seem to appear out of the air, unfold from the shadows, melt into the darkness itself.

“Thanks for coming, Shadow,” he says, his trenchcoat joining in the fluttering conversation of overwear. Pulling a few pictures out of his pocket, he holds them out and you take them.

A new mangled body. A hurried photo of a man with light skin and dark hair and blue eyes. A blown-up scan of license plate. You recognize them from his evidence board but say nothing, letting him make the request.

He explains the supposed serial killings, the patterns, the suspect, the license plate that isn’t his but was caught on surveillance near a couple of the dumping grounds.

“I’m pretty sure it’s him,” he concludes, poking at the photo of Mike Cross, “but I’m lacking something damming.”

“You mean you're 100% sure it's him. You're a thorough man; wouldn't just jump to conclusions. And you want me to go hunting.”

“I’d rather you just go take a listen. I don’t really want you to put yourself in danger.”

It’s a good thing he can’t see you smile. Trust Tim Rockford to be the one detective that worries about the safety of the city’s resident secret, pacifist vigilante. 

“I’m touched by your concern, Detective. But I haven’t been caught yet. Even if danger catches a glimpse of me, I’m very good at hiding.”

“I know. But it’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.” He smiles a little sadly. “I wish you wouldn’t hide from me. But I know why you do.”

It should be surprising–it’s not like him to cross this line–but instead, his statement warms you. Tim has always been grateful for the Shadow’s help, respectful, believed in your ability. But he’s also come to treat the Shadow as a friend. There’s something that tugs at your heart, knowing this dedicated, handsome, intelligent man truly trusts you but also respects and admires your limitations.

If only he knew how much you wish you could tell him, show him, let him know how much you admire him too.

He only blinks when you seem to melt into thin air, becoming one with the lengthening shadows.

_____

Club 88. The back alley. A black car belonging to Mike Cross. Nobody here to notice you but the rats as you duck around the back and inspect the bumper, find a magnetized plate cover hidden underneath that matches the photo in your pocket.

There’s the connection. Now for something that threads the needle.

_____

Maskless and hatless, you simply take up a serving tray and follow Mike Cross and a young pretty thing through the swinging “employees only” door and down a back corridor of the dark, thumping night club. Making yourself busy with empty bottles on the tray, you watch him pay a man and step into a private room with the girl. The man goes to find something else to do, nearly knocking your shoulder as he passes, as if you’re simply a tower of inventory boxes or a rogue tray of dirty dishes…or just some random hostess he doesn’t have time for.

Easy.

You’re able to enter the dimmed room under the guise of bringing in bottle service. The couple doesn’t even notice you while they make out on the couch in the VIP lounge. You simply dip your hand into the pocket of the jacket he’s left on a chair and lift his wallet. 

Might as well take the gun that’s there too. Just in case.

Time to get moving while he’s distracted.

_____

Using the address on the ID in his wallet, you make your way across town.

It’s easy enough to slip past the doorman. Unfortunately though, Mike’s apartment building has security cameras on every floor. This calls for a little distraction. Easy enough. All you need is the pad of paper and pen you carry in your pocket.

Knock on door 312. Explain you’re responding to a noise complaint in apartment 313. There is no apartment 313? That’s odd. Maybe it was apartment 311? 

When the occupants of 311 and 312 speculate over the possibilities–which apartment was the loud one? Who called in the complaint? They bet it was 211 down there, what a bitch….

It’s just enough time for you to use your jiggler key to work open the lock for Mike’s apartment and slip inside. Not only have they seemed to forgotten about you, but if anyone ever plays back the security tapes, their eyes will just slide right over you and concentrate on the gossiping neighbors in the hall.

Mike’s apartment is clean and sparse. By the looks of the set up of the living room, he likes to sit in the center of the couch, put his feet up on the coffee table while he drinks his beer (water ring stains on the veneer top) and watches tv. Not much on the walls. Books on the bookshelf, but no knicknacks.

You don’t know what you’re looking for yet, but you’ll know it when you find it.

There are a few places you start. The drawers in the kitchen. The freezer. The bedside table. Shelves in the closet. Medicine cabinet. Somewhere you'd stash something unassuming but precious but that you don't want anyone else to come across and ask questions.

But it’s as you pass back out through the bedroom, and lightly push the door open a bit wider that you hear a clinking and tapping on the other side.

There, hanging off a hook on the back of the bedroom door, is a silver chain.

With five women’s rings on it.

Yahtzee.

You snap a few photos with your phone before moving through the apartment again, looking for anything else, just in case your first instincts were wrong.

But your instincts are very rarely wrong.

Criminals love trophies. Little keepsakes of their thrills. Look for a collection of something that seems out of place and you’ve probably found your clue.

You’re just about to call it good and head out when you hear a key turning in the lock.

No need to panic, you’ve got this.

As Mike enters and kicks off his shoes before making his way to the bathroom, all you have to do is stand silently beside the far side of the bookshelf.

He doesn’t even turn on the light. Even easier.

Once the bathroom door closes, you’re able to silently slip out.

“It’s only a matter of time before somebody really sees you.”

Doubtful, Tim. But I wish I could tell you how sweet your concern is.

____

True to form, Tim’s is one of the only lights burning at the office when you slide through the department well after midnight.

It’s not often that you show up here as the Shadow, but you make sure it’s only at night when most of the lights are out. Even if you’re seen engaging with one of them, the detectives all know to look the other way and not to ask questions when someone on the force has requested your services. 

They see nothing, and say less.

When you get to the back offices, you have to stop for a moment in the shadows and take in the scene.

Tim’s here in the dim room, standing at a desk full of evidence bags. The one with the knife in it lays on a lightbox, the glow of which reaches up to caress his face, dragging at his cheeks and the bags under his eyes, his brow and bottom lip succumbing to the pull of contemplation.

You have to wonder if the detective has any joys outside of his work, if he reads or paints, if he’s into woodworking or collecting memorabilia. You often find yourself wishing you had the means to learn more about him and find yourself watching him from across the office as if you could read it in the stretch of his aching neck, in the hunch of his gun-holstered shoulders. 

But you’ve grown used to your quiet life. You wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if someone else actually paid you enough attention to let you into their life–

“What have you got for me?” he asks, and you flinch. He hadn’t even turned around.

“Plenty," you rasp through the voice modulator. "How did you know I was here?”

“I always notice you,” he says. “And I could ask you the same thing.”

“Where else would you be?”

“I have a home.”

“Do you ever go there?”

He laughs and finally turns. “Yeah, not lately.”

Emerging from the darkness, you hand him a few photos you ran off from your phone at home, knowing he'd appreciate the analog. There's the plate cover. The ID. The chain of rings. You also hand over the gun you pinched. “Just in case you need to run a match on any casings.”

It’s here that Tim’s look grows sour. “You took this off him?” Then he tilts his head, scanning the photos. “This one…taken inside his house?”

“Yes. Most likely a collection of his trophies–”

“You went into his house??”

His intensity stops you. Something’s….wrong. “It was necessary. I wasn’t seen.”

“I told you, nothing dangerous. What if he’d come home?”

“He did.” This gains an unprecedented look of alarm from the otherwise calm and calculated man. “I told you, Detective, I wasn’t seen. I never am. That’s what I do.”

“That’s not the point, Sunshine. He murders women and dumps their bodies. This is different from the drug smugglers and counterfeit runners you usually surveil…”

He stops, registering what he just said only a couple of seconds after you do, a calm sigh of regret washing over him before being replaced by the bloom of concern.

You could choose to ignore it.

But it's useless. Tim would never let an assumption take hold as truth unless he had absolute proof. He’s the best. The best of the best and doesn’t even know it. So long you’ve wished to tell him, to make him see what you see in him, but it would mean opening yourself, becoming visible, being seen.

This wasn’t supposed to happen. This is your superpower, this anonymity, this blurring at the edges, this void of connection…

And you should back away when he approaches.

But you don't want to. 

Nor do you dodge as he slowly reaches up to remove your mask. Your hood. Fits his palm to your jaw and runs the length of a cheekbone with his thumb. “It doesn’t work on everyone, Sunshine. Not if they really want to see you.”

As his warm, weary brown eyes find yours, two thick, generous tears spill down your cheeks, two surprising hot spikes of your heart right there on your face. It’s like being thrust underwater without the chance to take a breath, the panic of suddenly being the center of someone’s attention, and you gasp for air only to release a sob, slapping both hands to your face in embarrassment.

Tim doesn’t pry your hands away, he merely runs a knuckle over one as if to say, hey, you’re still hiding.

And you realize that you are.

When you finally don’t have to be.

When you lower your guard, he’s waiting there patiently to welcome you back.

“You okay?” he asks, handing you a napkin for your tears.

Nodding, you take it and use it quietly before swallowing, trying to steady a voice out in the open. “What now?”

He looks pointedly over at his desk and gestures for you to head over there. “I thought maybe we’d start with dinner. I figured you'd come by.”

There are two Chinese takeout boxes on the blotter, both bearing a code in black ink. 

22C. His standard.

Lucky13. Your favorite. With the sauces on the side, just like you like it.

Speechless, you look at him in awe. You do see me.

And he tucks his hands in his pockets, softening back at you with a look that can only be described as Yeah.

_____

In the following days you’re able to hunt down photos of the killer’s victims that clearly display their hands and the rings that you found in his apartment.

Undercover targets are planted in the club to entice Mike Cross, and sure enough, he takes one to the back room, pays for privacy, extra for a later cleanup, but gets caught with his fingers around her throat as a whole squad breaks down the door to take him into custody.

There’s no doubt he will never see the outside of a prison again.

Club 88 is shut down and a long investigation into its ownership and practices begin. The Shadow is called in by the investigating team for your fly-on-the-wall services and at first you’re afraid that perhaps, now that you’ve been seen, that the shine of your powers has dimmed or–to be more precise–a newfound confidence makes you even brighter than before.

On the contrary, you’ve never felt more powerful or more in control of your abilities. 

Perhaps because the one person who can detect your sunshine also pours pride into your shadow.

Or maybe it’s the regular diet of Lucky Number 13 and a new morning view these days. Who’s to say?

____

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