#so yeah next comic is happening still

[goldensunset]

cheers to this guest lecturer for nearly giving me a heart attack making me think there was a paper due tomorrow that i hadn’t even heard about so i couldn’t focus the rest of the lecture and like rushed home and opened the site to find there was nothing at all

[candiezmanzion]

metal/neo metal sonic ramble

never not thinking about how robots in idw have text like this

but neo metal sonic has the same text as all the organic characters

he also expresses clear emotion just like an organic person would, if not with a bit more robotic logic behind it [save when hes in a blind rage]

HE EVEN EVILLY LAUGHS AT ONE POINT

neo metal is proof that metal is VERY MUCH CAPABLE OF EMOTIONS LIKE ANY ORGANIC [if it wasnt already obvious when he's just metal] i think its sooo crazy that IDW shows metal is the most 'human' out of all the eggman robots yet he's arguably treated the worst, not even being able to Speak in his standard form.

ik sonic is just being his usual dick self here but he kinda has a point in a way. metal almost definitely WANTS to be able to talk and express himself. but he's reduced to his lesser, albeit still very powerful, form.

oh and don't even get me started...

it's so sad to me how even though he's still very capable of emotion, eggman has literally programmed out any hint of rebelliousness. like sure, it's most likely that even if eggman HADN'T programmed out metal's rebellious streak, he'd still be evil, but this leaves not even a CHANCE for redemption on metal's part.

which makes it even more ironic that sonic says this...

sonic fails to comprehend that metal literally CANNOT become a better person. eggman literally repeats what neo already told sonic, metal is programmed to kill and to be loyal to eggman. he has NO choice. hes been under eggmans control forever and when he rebelled he was beaten and reprogrammed to never be able to rebel again. metal has basically zero autonomy outside of eggman's orders [which is in great contrast to neo, who seems to be working FOR eggman's wishes, but still very much absorbed in his own power and emotions].

i don't really know what this whole ramble is about. i think while the comics seem to push the message that metal is going to be evil Forever, i also think it would be devastatingly tragic if he didn't get a redemption in the comics. y'all cant set up a horrifying depiction of abuse like this and tell me 'oh yeah and he stayed in that state forever'. i think if another fight happened at one point or another maybe they could TRY to figure out how to program OUT his anti rebellion streak? lol? even WITH that he did hesitate when sonic offered for him to be a good person again.

he literally hesitated when SONIC. IS THE ONE WHO OFFERED HIM A TRUCE. like he's literally programmed to believe sonic is his copy and he needs to kill him I don't think i can understate how insane it is that metal, despite all his programming and lack of automomy preventing it, for a split second, considered sonics offer.

thats all for tonight. metal sonic deserves the whole world. please reblog or comment your thoughts id love to talk more abt how hes characterized in the idw comics, might talk abt reflections next. bye !

[bianquitasunderworld]

dave lizewski smut plsss i love nerdy dick 😭😭🙏

Parings: Dave Lizewski x Reader

Warnings: Smut

A/N: I love nerdy dick too twin, you so real for this omg😭‼️ (omg y’all i didn’t expect myself to make this kind of romantic sorry y’all i’ll write something crazy next time, this is long as hell ‼️)

How did this happen? How did Dave end up with the woman he thought was the hottest girl on earth, on top of him straddling his hips?

It all started when Dave decided to invite his girlfriend over to study. She definitely did not want to study—how could she, when all she could think about was how hot he looked while he rambled on about some silly, boring, and excessively long economic questions for class.

Truth be told, she didn’t care much about anything he was saying at the moment. Although that might sound rude, she didn’t care one bit. Her boyfriend sat at the edge of his bed, rambling, and he looked absolutely perfect. His glasses were set perfectly in place on his face, and the way the tip of his tongue stuck out as he delved deep into thought about his stupid economics homework—how could she possibly focus?

Dave was completely oblivious to her ogling. He wasn’t aware that she was practically salivating just from looking at him, he was oblivious to all the impure thoughts running through his girlfriends head, he was so focused on finishing his assignments he didn’t realize just how needy his girlfriend was.

Although Dave and you were in a very serious relationship you’ve never discussed sex it was uncharted territory for both of you. Dave was too shy and embarrassed because he was still a virgin it was a sensitive topic for him. Everyone is aware he isn’t the most popular guy at school.

You on the other hand were scared you’d send him running for the hills if you tried to suggest sex, It’s not like you both never did anything well…the furthest you’ve gotten with each other was making out and grinding against each other, and the ending result was always the same: Dave blushing, covering his lap with a pillow while he sat at his desk chair, and diverting into discussions about random comics and superhero references as if you didn’t just have your tongue in his mouth.

You kept eyeing Dave and biting your lip the thoughts running through your head were pure sin, you were convinced if Dave knew about them he would be a stuttering and blushing disaster. You didn’t think your staring was obvious until Dave suddenly redirected his attention from his five-minute monologue about consumerism, catching you in the act.

He looked back at you from his spot on the bed as he cleared his throat and spoke softly. “Are you okay? Is um something wrong?” God he was so sweet and caring he was oblivious to the fact that all you wanted to do was have him whimpering and groaning beneath you, your desires were consuming your mind. You always wondered what he would sound like when he was overwhelmed with pleasure. You’d caught a glimpse of it once, and since then, your thirst for more was like that of a desert traveler yearning for a drop of water.

“Yeah-Mhm everything’s fine sorry my mind was somewhere else for a second” you smiled at him trying to sound as if you weren’t seconds away from jumping on him. He smiled and adjusted his glasses before he nodded and turned his attention back to his paper.

You couldn’t stand it the last straw was when he bit his bottom lip in concentration you couldn’t stop yourself you swiped his paper off the table, the rustling sound breaking the spell between you. You set it down with a bit more force than intended, a bold move that marked your intentions.

Leaning in, you placed a hand on his cheek and pressed your lips to his, a surge of unspoken desires finally finding expression. His initial surprise melted away, replaced by a hunger that mirrored your own. In that stolen kiss, the air crackled with a mix of passion and anticipation, as if the world outside had faded, leaving just the two of you suspended in that breathtaking moment.

And there it was, the culmination of all those unspoken desires, manifesting in the reality of the moment. Dave found himself reclined against the headboard, a sensation of both exhilaration and disbelief coursing through him. You straddled him, your legs encasing his body, intimacy that had been a distant fantasy until now. His glasses perched on the bridge of his nose, which had turned a deep shade of crimson. The flush of his cheeks mirrored the intensity of the moment, a testament to the shared vulnerability and passion.

Your gaze trailed down, drinking in the sight of his bare chest pressed against you, the rhythmic rise and fall of his breath a captivating dance. The tousled strands of his hair cradled his head against the pillow like a crown, accentuating his allure.

His eyes held a mix of emotions as they lingered on your chest, a blend of curiosity and desire. The gravity of the moment weighed on the air, punctuated by his words, “Are you sure about this?” Your fingers, tender as a whisper, glided across his cheek, a gesture of reassurance and care. Leaning down, you captured his lips in a soft, lingering kiss, your intention clear—to grant him the choice to halt if his comfort wavered.

You sought to convey through touch what words might not fully express. His gaze held yours, a reservoir of affection and trust that spoke volumes. With a glance saturated in love, he nodded, affirming his readiness to explore uncharted realms with you.

He looked down between both your bodies, you were hovering over him, he bit his lip. Dave whined out a small, broken “please.” You closed your eyes savoring the way he spoken his plead was music to your ears.

You slowly sank down on to him, your mouth let out a small gasp at the feeling as he let out a deep groan, he felt the way you clamped down against him, the way he stretched you open had you groaning. You leaned down to kiss him gently, and gave yourselves time to adjust to the new sensation. Dave was girthy and long, he was bigger than anyone you’ve ever had, this felt different from all the times you’ve had sex this, this was love. You could feel the love radiating off of him as he kissed you and groaned into the passionate kiss.

Once you both adjusted, Dave gripped your hips and bucked his hips into you, his thrust were slow and deep, the noises of skin against each other and pleasurable moans filled the room. “Y-you’re so beautiful” Dave muttered and he looked into your eyes. “You’re so pretty davie” You couldn’t help but cry out as you reached down to play with yourself rubbing small gentle circles on your clit and slowly grinding down against him.

He whimpered and you felt his arms wrap around you, holding you in place. You could feel the tension in his body, the excitement building as he felt you against his body. You leaned down to kiss him gently, your lips meeting his in a gentle, tender embrace. You were addicted to the feeling of him inside you, the way he held you, the way he moaned your name. The pressure was building and you knew that you were about to cum you were trying to hold off trying to make this last for as long as you could. “Dave-I’m gonna cum--“ You cried out.

“I-f-fuck” Dave stuttered out as he felt you squeeze around him as you reached your climax, your body shaking with the intensity of the orgasm. Dave was groaning deep in his throat, his hips moving up and down as he came as well. You felt like you were one, a single unit, moving together in a synchronized dance of pleasure as he came deep in you.

Dave whimpered as you rode out your high against him, he felt himself growing overstimulated, he reached for your hips and kept a firm hold on you to keep you from moving, his body was shaking and sweat dripped from his forehead.

“I love you,” you murmured, your voice laced with affection.

“I love you too, baby,” Dave replied, a tender smile on his lips. With a gentle motion, he lifted himself and drew you in for a sweet, lingering kiss.

Releasing yourself from the embrace, you let out a soft sigh of contentment as you reclined against the bed, Dave at your side. He seemed to shift, a hint of nervousness tainting his usual bashful demeanor. “So, uh, how did I do? Was it okay?” His cheeks flushed a shade of crimson that rivaled a tomato’s hue.

“You were amazing.”

[rafecameronssl4t]

Like her mama || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: inspired by this TikTok sound

Warnings: none!! just fluff :)

Word count: 1,416

MASTERLIST (dad!rafe au masterlist)

divider by @h-aewo

As you turn from the sink, water dripping from the freshly washed fruit in your strainer, Topper’s voice interrupts your thoughts. "Need some help with that?" he asks, his tone friendly and familiar. You glance over your shoulder, offering him a warm smile.

"I'm all good, thanks, Top," you reply, your eyes twinkling with gratitude. He nods and takes a seat on the nearby stool, settling in comfortably. Your attention shifts to the pool outside, where Rafe, Mabel, and Kelce are enjoying the morning sun.

"Everything alright out there?" you ask, your curiosity genuine as you look to Topper for reassurance. He glances outside, a slight smile tugging at his lips. "Yeah, they’re all good. The water’s really nice," he says with a chuckle.

You turn back toward the pool just in time to see Rafe holding Mabel in his arms, her tiny pink bucket hat slightly askew, too big for her small head. You wave, a soft giggle escaping your lips when Rafe lifts Mabel’s hand to mimic your wave, though you’re certain she can’t actually see you.

Topper can’t help but chuckle along with you. "Can’t believe she’ll be seven months next week," he remarks, his tone tinged with amazement. You let out a small sigh as you begin slicing the oranges, arranging them neatly on a platter. "Don’t remind me," you reply with a soft laugh. "She’s growing up so fast."

The two of you continue chatting, the conversation flowing easily until Rafe strolls into the kitchen. His hair is damp, the blonde strands clinging to his forehead, and tiny droplets of water trail down his chest and stomach, glistening in the soft light.

"Hi, baby," he greets you, leaning in to press a tender kiss to your cheek. "Hi," you respond, your smile widening at his touch. Rafe’s eyes drift down to the platter you’re preparing. "That looks amazing," he comments, quickly snatching a strawberry and popping it into his mouth before you can protest. You shake your head playfully, amused by his antics.

"Is Mabel all right?" you ask, glancing at him as he leans casually against the counter. "Mmhmm," he hums in affirmation, then suggests with a grin, "You should come in the water after this." You chuckle softly. "I will, I will," you promise, as he leans in for another quick kiss before heading back outside.

Topper watches him go, shaking his head with a smirk. "Rafe’s a complete softie now, huh?" he comments, clearly amused by the transformation in his friend. You snort, unable to hold back your laughter. "Maybe for us. But he still loves arguing with his sisters," you say with a fond smile, recalling the endless bickering between Rafe and his siblings.

Topper’s expression brightens with sudden recollection. "Did I end up tell you what happened this morning at the shops?" he asks, piquing your curiosity. "No? What happened?" you ask, looking up at him, eager to hear the story.

~

Flashback….

“Is she awake?” Rafe asks as he pulls his G-Wagon into a parking spot in front of the store. The engine’s hum fades as he shifts into park, and Kelce leans over to peer into the baby carrier. Mabel, with her big doe eyes, stares back at him, her tiny mouth busy with her pacifier.

“Wide awake,” Kelce reports with a chuckle, meeting her gaze with a grin. The three of them exit the car; Rafe decides against the stroller, opting to scoop Mabel into his arms instead. After all, they were only planning a quick stop. Mabel clings to him, her small hands gripping his shirt as she takes in her surroundings.

As they approach the store, Topper slips his oversized sunglasses onto Mabel’s little face. The glasses are comically large, sliding down her tiny nose, and the sight of it makes both Topper and Kelce snicker. They quickly pull out their phones, snapping a photo of the moment.

Rafe, oblivious to their antics at first, glances over his shoulder when he hears their muffled laughter. “You guys are idiots,” he says, shaking his head, though he can’t suppress the smile that tugs at his lips when he sees Topper’s sunglasses barely hanging on Mabel’s face. As her uncles continue to laugh, Mabel lets out a delighted giggle, her tiny hands reaching up to grasp at the sunglasses.

As they step into the shop, all three boys lift their sunglasses from their noses and perch them on top of their heads. The cool air inside the store is a welcome contrast to the warmth outside. “What are we getting again?” Kelce asks, glancing around as they enter.

Rafe pulls out his phone, scrolling through the list you had sent him. “Y/n gave me a little list,” he replies, quickly scanning the items before reading them aloud. Kelce nods and heads off towards the fruit section, while Rafe, Topper, and Mabel make their way down another aisle to gather the remaining items.

As they pass by the toy section, Rafe can’t resist stopping, his eyes drawn to the colourful display. Mabel’s attention is instantly caught by the toys on the shelves, her small hands reaching out eagerly. “You want that one? What about this too—” Rafe starts, picking up a soft toy, but he’s interrupted by a voice from behind them.

“Hey,” the voice says, drawing their attention. Rafe turns to find a girl, probably around their age or a bit younger, standing a few steps away. Her smile is bright, but there’s something in her eyes that makes Topper instantly wary. He notices the way her gaze lingers on Rafe before shifting to Mabel.

“Oh my goodness, what a cute baby you have!” she exclaims, her voice overly sweet, dripping with an eagerness that Rafe recognises all too well. It’s the tone of someone trying just a bit too hard to make an impression.

Without missing a beat, Rafe shrugs nonchalantly. “Yeah, my wife and I make pretty cute babies, huh?” he responds, his tone cool and dismissive, the question hanging in the air as more rhetorical than anything. He turns his attention back to Mabel, who is now clutching the toy he had picked up, her little fingers wrapped tightly around it. He places it in the shopping cart without sparing the girl another glance.

Topper stifles a grin, barely containing his amusement as they walk away, leaving the girl standing there, her plan clearly foiled. As they continue down the aisle, Rafe mutters under his breath, “The audacity,” his voice laced with mild annoyance, though a small smile still plays on his lips.

Topper bursts into laughter. “You handled that very well, didn’t he, Mabel?” he says, leaning over to tickle Mabel’s tummy. She giggles in response, her tiny hands gripping Rafe’s shirt as she hides her face, her laughter a sweet, infectious sound that makes both men smile even wider.

Rafe glances down at his daughter, his expression softening as he leans in to press a series of tender kisses on the side of her forehead. “Yeah, we don’t need any of that nonsense, do we, baby girl?” he murmurs, his voice overflowing with affection. Mabel giggles softly, her tiny hand reaching up to touch his face, and Rafe smiles, the warmth in his eyes evident as they continue with their shopping.

~

End of flashback...

A smile tugs at your lips as Topper finishes his story, the amusement clear in your eyes. His recount of Rafe's quick wit and protective nature at the store had you both chuckling. The memory lingers, bringing a soft warmth to your heart as you place the final pieces of fruit on the platter.

Topper grabs the colourful tray, balancing it with ease as he heads outside to join the others by the pool. Outside, Mabel is floating happily in a small inflatable ring, her tiny hands splashing the water as Rafe gently moves her around. His smile is wide, the pure joy on his face unmistakable as he watches her delight.

Your hands reach up to start unbuttoning Rafe's oversized button-up shirt that you had used as cover up over your bikini. You step into the pool, feeling the cool water contrast with the warmth of the day, and tie your hair up into a bun.

Rafe glances up at you, a playful glint in his eyes as you wade towards them. "Look, Mabel, Mumma's here," he says with a grin, his voice soft and affectionate. Hearing his words, Mabel turns her head, her big eyes lighting up at the sight of you. A gummy smile spreads across her face, and you can’t help but giggle at her reaction.

You move closer, lifting her gently from the floatie and pressing a kiss to her cheek. "You having fun, Bels?" you coo softly, spinning her lightly in the water. She babbles in response, her excitement clear as her little legs kick with glee. Rafe watches with a smile tugging at his lips, his gaze shifting between you and Mabel.

"I just realised you two are matching," he comments, noting your pink bikini and Mabel’s pink bucket hat that’s just a little too big for her. A playful grin spreads across your face. "I planned it," you tease, giving him a wink. Rafe chuckles, moving closer to wrap an arm around your waist and pulling both you and Mabel into a warm embrace.

He presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before leaning down to tickle Mabel’s tummy. Her infectious giggles echo around the pool, her little hands splashing the water playfully. You and Rafe laugh along with her, the happiness of the moment filling the air.

As you hold Mabel close, feeling the warmth of her tiny body against you, you glance up at Rafe, a soft smile playing on your lips. "We made a pretty cute baby, huh?" you say, your voice filled with pride and affection, echoing the words he had casually tossed out at the shops earlier.

Rafe’s eyes light up with recognition, a smirk forming as he remembers the moment. "Yeah, we sure did. The cutest baby" he agrees, leaning in to kiss you tenderly.

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #8

A/N: Recently reread an older prompt thread of Danny reincarnating as Tim and remembering his previous life at nine... that inspired this...

Something was different about Tim. They all noticed as they watched the third Robin as he went through the cave like a whirlwind on fire. Collecting small gadgets and trinkets, his laptop and other things before hurrying off with some kind of excuse again. Dick arched an eyebrow and glanced at Bruce. The first Robin felt tempted to as Bruce for help to figure out if something had happened during their last mission.

While near death situation weren't uncommon in their line of work, they never before had affected the young teen the way they have right now. Dick had first thought, the kid had suffered some kind of head trauma considering how disoriented he had been when he first woke up. But this, was ridiculous, it wasn't like Tim was acting all to different from his usual self but.... Dick shock his head. Maybe he was just imaging it. The kid was still the same, tinkering with gadgets and drinking coffee or energy drink in amounts the kid was still way to young to consume the way he does. Maybe the boy hit puberty finally.

In his room Tim dropped everything he had collected from the Batcave into a pile, before quickly grabbing a notepad and scratching out bullet points as well as adding new points. The kid then proceeded to start pacing his room, counting something down with the help of his fingers as he muttered to himself.

"Okay Tim, think... I should have everything I need... I just need to remember the blueprint and then build it. It's not like I never build gadgets of my own. It something I have always done once I got into it... so it will be easy to make it and then..." His muttered continued before he plopped onto the ground, not before grabbing his little multi-tool box. His hand grabbing his notebook once again as he opened it and began scribbling down.

"If I use the parts of the stun gun.... and then the chip set from the bat mini computer.... then use the metal from one of the many batarangs..." Tim mumbled to himself, before coursing as he dropped his pen. His hand going intangible for a brief moment. His eye twitches for a second before he took a deep breath calming down, then picked up his pen again. He really needed to get started on building that Fenton bracelet.

"They just had to knock me hard enough into the head that I would remember my past life...." Tim mutters quietly, annoyed with the goons he had fought during their last mission. He took another deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment. Memories that belonged to Danny Fenton flitting across his mind. When Tim had woken up the first time he hand't remembered for a hot second that he was Tim Drake, son of Janet and Jack Drake, ward of Bruce Wayne and third Robin to Batman.

He literally thought he was Danny Fenton waking up in a strange dimension. After his initial panic calmed down Danny, or rather Tim had anaylized his situation and figured out, he was remembering his past life. It made the most sense. At first that was easy to deal with, until Tim one day fell through the floor. Thankfully neither Bruce, Alfred or Dick had noticed that incident. But to Tim, that meant he unlocked his abilities from his past life.

Which how was he going to explain that? 'Oh hey Bruce, I woke up and I don't have a meta gene but I remember my past life and now I have ghost abilities.' Yeah... that would go really well with the paranoid old man. Someone Tim was currently babysitting until that man recovered from his grief.

That brought Tim to his next dilemma. Because he remembered Danny Fenton read comics, while he mostly read comics centered around Martian Manhunter his past self thankfully had a friend that was into Batman and had discussed the comics with him. That was lucky for Tim. Because Tim wasn't stupid, he had seen other kids at school read these kind of books before. So he was aware that he was currently experiencing and living through the plot of one of these reincarnations book.

A part of him was partially sure that he could blame that on some of his ghostly friends from his past life.

Eitherway, thanks to his past life's friend. Tim had knowledge of the future, even if he didn't remember everything. Bad point, he had by now figured out in which timeline he was. Or at least Tim believed he had, which meant he was to late to prevent the fall of the second Robin, but if he calculated right either Damian was going to appear soon or he would be joining the Teen Titans which meant one step closer to going to get attacked by an enraged second Robin coming back. There were targets painted on his back. At least he wasn't at the point at time where he had another insane fruitloop obsessed with him.

Tim groaned. "I swear if this life were a novel it would be called, 'how to survive your siblings rage after awakening to your past life'."

There was a pause in the moment where Tim just let his mind wander. Before sitting straighter and getting to work onto the things he needed to suppress his ghost powers for the moment as well as making plans for the inevitable appearance of his future siblings. He just hoped he remembered the order of events correctly let alone that they were from the timeline he was in, otherwise he would be screwed.

"And that is, if I really only remembered my past life and did not taking over another kids life.... And Ancients... please don't let this be a Joker Jr. timeline...."

[superectojazzmage]

The final TF2 comic has got to be the epitome of making lemonade out of lemons. It's pretty much just saying "Yeah, things got messed up somewhere along the way and we didn't get to do everything we wanted to do with this, but y'know what? We still had a good time.". It's blatantly not everything that the writers and devs were building to or that fans were expecting, very clearly a truncated/modified version of their plans. But it does the absolute best that it can with what it has to tie off every loose-end and say every goodbye. And in the process it reframes the entire lore of TF2 as not just a comedy but also a reminder that the change of life is good and it's better to embrace that than to waste yourself by clinging to the bad things that happened in the past just because they're familiar. It's closure, for Valve and for their community, and a reminder that's plenty more life to live in the future, and that's what really matters. As perfect of an ending as could be achieved after so long and with so little space.

Can't wait to see what comes next from Valve, whether it's just their new game Deadlock, an ending for Half Life/Portal next, or something entirely else. If it's even half as good as this, it'll still show why Valve tends to blow so many other video game companies out of the water.

[coldfanbou]

Time Off Needed

Alrighty, everyone this week turned into a Somi week, so this one is on the shorter side. Anyway, let's hope Somi gets a break she'll need one for working on one of her days off.

Length 1.8k

Somi x Mreader

Somi took a deep breath, raised her hands above her head, and stretched herself out. “Time to go home,” she said to herself as she grabbed her things. She waved goodbye to the few coworkers left in the building and got into her car, driving home. As Somi drove home, she called you, waiting as she listened to the ring go off three times. 

“Hello?”

“Hey, are we still on for tomorrow? It’s the end of the month, after all.”

“Yeah, I’ll come by your place tomorrow morning; it’s going to be an all-day thing, right?”

“Yep, alright, that’s all I wanted to know. I’ll see you tomorrow, " she said before ending the call and continuing her drive along the highway. Her mind was elsewhere, filled with anticipation for the weekend and finally getting some time to relax. 

When she got home, Somi tossed her bag onto the couch and headed to her room. She threw herself onto her bed and let out a long sigh. She shut her eyes briefly, letting her body relax before slowly pushing herself out of bed, heading to the shower, throwing off her clothes, and stepping inside. 

The hot water rolled down Somi’s tired body, caressing it as she shook her head and enjoyed the warmth it provided. Somi shut her eyes and craned her neck, groaning, “That feels nice.” She took her time in the shower, feeling her body unwind and relax further. 

Once she was done, Somi wrapped a towel around her hair and changed into her sleepwear: a simple white tank top and panties. As she left the bathroom, a rush of cold air hit her, making her shiver. She rushed to her bedroom, wrapping herself in a blanket. A smile crossed Somi’s face as she felt the comfort of the blanket. Before sleeping in for the night, she checked her phone, going through her plans for the weekend before placing it on her nightstand and calling it a night. 

The next day, Somi got herself ready, got out of bed, and put on her best outfit. By the time you arrived, she was completely prepared. She led you into the other room. It was her recording room, designed with all the frills you could imagine around her bed. “Alright, put this on,” she said, handing you a large bear mask, one that would be used by a mascot in any other situation. “Oh, and take those pills.”

“Really? This one?” You ask, referring to the mask.

“Yeah, you got a problem with it?”

“Yeah, it moves too easily.”

“I changed it; there’s a rubber mouthpiece for you to bite down on. Besides, people like hearing me, so it’s better for me too.” Somi explains, moving to the computer and bending over as she adjusts some settings. You look her up and down, taking note of the outfit she chose to wear for today—something that looked far too prim and proper for what would be happening. You would’ve called it a uniform, but Somi would correct you. She glanced over her shoulder, “Hey, get ready,” she tells you, grabbing two hair ties from her desk and putting her hair into two pigtails. You huff, strip down to nothing, and put on the comically large bear head, finding the rubber mouthpiece she mentioned. “Alright, good,” you hear her say as she pushes you to the side. She opens her blouse, showing off the soft curves of her breasts, “Show’s starting,” Somi puts on a face mask and heads back to the computer, turning on the stream.  You take off the mask to use one of the pills and watch from the sidelines as she introduces herself, “Hi, everyone!” She shouts, waving to the camera. “It’s been a month since our last show, and you guys met the goal!” Somi feigns excitement, mimicking fireworks with her voice. “Okay, so because you guys met my goal, you guys get a very special show today. We’re going to go for a full 12 hours. Sit back, get your cock out for me, and enjoy watching me go crazy. I’ll look forward to getting to see all the pictures afterward.” She says. “Alright, there’s some material for you; now we’ll get started.” 

Somi turns toward you, extending her hand as she walks over to you and grasping your cock. She drags you into the frame and waves to the camera. “I found a nice teddy bear to use today.” She says before kneeling before you. She glances up at you, and you know, under the mask is a big smile. Somi moves her hand quickly over your cock, “I can’t wait to feel this thing inside me,” she giggles. You roll your eyes, biting down on the mouthpiece as Somi’s hand slows down, and she brings herself closer. 

Somi lifts her mask slightly, slipping your cock inside. You groan. Somi’s tongue moves up and down along your shaft, coating your cock in a layer of saliva as she bobs her head. Somi groans as she sucks your cock, her fingers slipping under her shorts and rubbing against her slit. “I’m so wet already,” she says, glancing at the camera and the chat speeding by. You place your grab onto Somi’s pigtails and thrust, pushing your cock into the back of her throat. Somi chokes on your cock, not expecting you to take charge. You give her a chance to adjust before beginning to thrust into her mouth. Your cock crashes against the back of Somi’s throat. Somi glances up, hunger in her eyes, as she places one of her hands on your thighs and lets you use her throat. Somi continues to play with herself, pushing her fingers into her wet cunt. She pushes them in and out of her slit, moaning against your cock as you drive your cock into her.

Saliva coats Somi’s mouth as you continue to thrust, your balls smack against her chin as she begins running out of breath. You don’t stop, though, you were enjoying fucking her throat too much, and you both knew her fans loved to see her become a mess. 

You held Somi against your crotch, watching as the young woman furiously fingered herself, her moans growing higher in pitch until you pulled out. You adjust Somi’s mask and rub your cock against her, she nuzzles it in response.

You grab Somi’s hand and pull her to her feet, making her face the camera. You reach up and pull off her blouse, showing her tits to the audience. You cup them, raising them slowly and dropping them, letting everyone see Somi’s tits bounce. “Take me already,” Somi moans, rubbing her ass against you. You keep one hand on Somi’s breast, pinching her nipple and making her whimper while you slowly pull down her shorts with the other.  

Moving to the bed, you bend Somi over it, making sure the camera has a good angle as you drive your hand into her ass. “Mmm!” You strike her again and again, her ass slowly turning red as you switch from cheek to cheek. You begin to slow down your smacks, letting the crowd take in the sight before moving Somi onto your lap. Rubbing your cock against her wet slit Somi looks at the camera, “He’s about to put it in everyone; make sure you watch carefully.” She says, her words slurring as you slip yourself inside her tight cunt. You move your hands to her thin waist, gripping it tightly as you move her up and down your shaft.  Somi’s moans flood the room as she takes your cock, feeling it stretch out her cunt. As you pick up the pace, her tits start bouncing, entertaining the audience as they watch the young woman beg for more. Each thrust crashes against her womb, making Somi’s body tingle as she rides you. 

Somi’s eyes go half-lidded as she continues to bounce on your cock; it was for show; her moans, though, were real. You shift one of your hands to her clit, gently flicking it and sending a shock through her system. “Oh shit,” She moaned, Somi leaned forward, hunched over as you teased her. She glanced up at the camera, ensuring everything was still going as you had your way with her. Somi could see tips flying in as everyone watched her getting fucked. She tried to figure out how much it was, but the pleasure coursing through her put her mind in a fog. Before she could try to clear her mind, you put your arm over her chest and pulled her back, holding her down as your thrust became quicker. Your muffled groans came quickly as you neared your climax. Somi could feel your cock begin to throb inside her, “He’s going to cum!” Somi yelled out, throwing her head back to show her face as you buried your length inside her. Not a second later, you were flooding Somi’s cunt with your cum. Her body tensed around your cock, milking it as she continued to moan. 

“Oh, fuck,” Somi laughed, “I feel so full everyone. Did you cum for me too?” She asks them before giggling. Somi pushes herself off you, letting your cum run down her leg, before turning around and bending over. “Can you see how he filled me up?” She asks before sneaking her mouth around your cock again, lapping up your semen as she spreads her folds and lets everyone glimpse at her swollen cunt. 

“I wonder how many more times you’ll cum,” Somi whispers as she wraps her lips around your cock and pulls back. Somi looks over her shoulder and looks at the camera, “Alright, everyone, you’re going to see what it’s like when I’m in charge of riding.” Somi pushes you onto your back and straddles you, rubbing your cock between her folds before impaling herself onto it. 

You and Somi continue the marathon of sex, stopping on occasion but fulfilling all twelve hours. Somi barely has enough energy to turn off the stream and return to bed. Her legs are shaky after the many orgasms and the soreness she feels. Through the twelve hours, you had cum inside Somi so many times you forgot the exact number; you hadn’t put it all in her cunt either, switching between all three holes she had. Cum was flowing between her legs as it leaked out of her gaping asshole and cunt. You take off the bear mask and look at Somi. “Are you going to be able to do anything tomorrow? You’re going to be super sore.” 

Somi didn’t respond; she was already sleeping. Her saliva and your cum mixed as it dripped onto the mattress. You chuckle and leave her there, covering her with her clothes before taking a shower and leaving the young woman for the night. 

[arolesbianism]

Sorry for failing to post more than once every 3 am anyways more stalien icons 👍

[spicy-apple-pie]

I WANNA HEAR ABOUT THE COMIC >:))))))

I did warn you…

Okay so idk if a lot of people know this, but Damian was originally given up for adoption right after he was born before his story was reconned.

So in this comic, Damian is 9 years old and in the foster system in Gotham, unknowing who his parents are. He’s never stays long in a home because he’s very aggressive. He’s smart though, so he orders a DNA testing kit to hopefully find a relative to take him. Imagine his shock when he finds out his father is Bruce Wayne.

So this 9 year old walks into WE by himself, toddles up to the secretary, and asks to see Bruce Wayne. The secretary is like “haha okay, let me help you find your parents.” And Damian is like “you can. My dad is Bruce Wayne.”

And then Tim shows up!! And he’s like, “who’s your dad?”

And Damian is suddenly really nervous and shyly passes Tim the DNA test results. Tim looks them over, and Damian thinks he’s going to get turned away. But then Tim smiles at him and asks him if he has time for a drink.

Damian basically explains his life story over a cup of hot chocolate to Tim. Tim listens and tells him that he’ll make sure Bruce sees it and gives him his number if he has any questions (Damian doesn’t have a phone). Damian gets up to throw out his cup but Tim is like “oh I can throw that out for you. Talk to you soon!”

Cut to the BatCave where Bruce is staring at the DNA test results. Showing him and Talia as the parents. Tim stands behind him. “I doubled and tripled checked.” He says. “Not to mention he’s the spitting image of you.” He mumbles under his breath, knowing that Bruce isn’t in the mood for jokes right now. Alfred places some Tylenol beside Bruce using his butler powers to sense his on coming headache.

“And you said he walked into the lobby by self?” Bruce asked.

“Yeah, he said he took the bus.”

“Oh dear,” Alfred comments, “that is certainly not safe for a boy his age in Gotham. I wonder if his social worker knows about that…”

So the next morning, Damian finds that he’s out of custody from his foster parents. And he’s like “but I didn’t do anything this time!” And his social workers like “no, they’re getting charged with child endangerment. We already have a place lined up for you.”

Lo and behold, his new foster home is Wayne Manor. And he meets Bruce for the first time and he’s really nervous. And Bruce has to turn away because he almost starts crying. And Damian asks Alfred if he did something wrong and Alfred’s like “no, he’s just very happy to see you.”

And that’s basically it. But I also have this idea of how he discovers his Dad is Batman.

He comes downstairs in the early morning for a snack before going back to sleep to find Red Hood raiding their fridge. He runs to Bruce and he’s freaking because fucking RED HOOD broke into their house.

And Bruce groans and is mildly annoyed about and Damian is like “???? Does this happen often????” Bruce brings him downstairs and Red Hood is still there, but making a grilled cheese with his helmet off.

“Jay, how many times do we need to tell you know masks in the house?”

“I dunno. How many fucking children are you going to adopt?” He gestures to Damian hiding behind Bruce.

“He doesn’t know yet, Jay. I was going to wait until he was more comfortable.”

Jason is a little sheepish because he did give the kid a bit of a fright, so he turns around to apologize and introduce himself. And instantly is like “holy shit, that’s a bio kid.”

“Language, Jay…”

“Don’t language me, where the fuck did he come from???”

“What is happening??!!” Damian finally yells.

And then Bruce shows him the BatCave.

I did warn you I’d talk your ear off. I came up with this circa. 2018 - 2019 but I feel like I finally have the skill to draw it. And I honestly fell in love with it again, so I might lol.

Edit: I did it

[mindless-existence1]

Sonic and reader becomes friends!

would shadow get jealous? Like his lover just became friends with his enemy lol

the shock on Sonic’s face learning g shadow has a lover lol

also I don’t know if it went through but I asked you to marry me

Authors note: Put a ring on it @luc1dw0rld

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Sonic’s room was its usual chaos: posters plastered on the walls, random gadgets scattered on every surface, and a distinct smell of chili dogs lingering in the air. You were sprawled on his bed, flipping through a comic book while he sat cross-legged on the floor, engrossed in his own.

“Okay, but tell me this,” Sonic said, pointing to a panel in his comic. “How does this dude survive getting thrown into a volcano? Like, plot armor is one thing, but come on.”

You snorted, not even looking up from your page. “He’s the main character, Sonic. Logic doesn’t apply to him.”

“Still dumb,” he muttered, flicking the page with unnecessary force. You glanced at your watch, and your eyes widened. “Oh, shit! I have to leave and get ready for my date.”

Sonic looked up from his comic, raising an eyebrow. “Still can’t believe you’re dating Shadow.” You rolled your eyes with a grin, heading for the door. “You’ve said that every time I’ve mentioned him. I don't see what's so unbelievable."

“I dunno,” Sonic said, shrugging. “He’s just so... serious. And, like, broody and grumpy and you're....not. It’s weird.” You smirked. “Opposites attract, Sonic.”

He rolled his eyes but grinned. “Whatever. Tell him I said hi. And tell him not to glare at me next time we’re in the same room.”

“Will do, see ya later,” you called over your shoulder as you grabbed your things and headed out the door.

-----

By the time you got back to your place, the evening sky was painted in hues of orange and pink. Unlocking the door, you stepped inside, expecting to find Shadow waiting as he usually did. Sure enough, there he was—sitting on your couch with his arms crossed and an unmistakable pout on his face.

“Hey,” you greeted warmly, setting your bag down. “You’re early.” Shadow’s crimson eyes flicked toward you briefly before he looked away. “Hmph.”

You raised an eyebrow, stepping closer. “What’s with the attitude? Something happen?”

“It’s nothing,” he replied curtly, though the slight furrow of his brow said otherwise. You sighed, sitting down next to him. “Shadow, no offense but you'rea terrible lair. So spill.”

He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze fixed on the coffee table. Finally, he muttered, “You were with Sonic earlier.” You blinked, caught off guard. “Yeah? We were just hanging out and reading comics. Why?”

Shadow shifted uncomfortably, his arms tightening over his chest. “…You spend a lot of time with him.” Realization dawned on you, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Wait. Are you jealous?”

Shadow’s eyes snapped to yours, his expression a mix of indignation and embarrassment. “I am not jealous.”

“You totally are,” you teased, leaning closer. “You’re sulking because I was with Sonic. Admit it.”

“I don’t sulk,” he grumbled, but the faint blush dusting his cheeks betrayed him. You laughed softly, reaching out to rest a hand on his arm.

“Shadow, you have nothing to worry about. Sonic’s my best friend, yeah, but you’re the one I’m dating. You’re the one I want to be with because I love you.”

He glanced at you, his expression softening just slightly. You don't miss the way his shoulders loose their tension, what you don't know is how his heart rate spikes every time you say that “…It’s irrational,” he admitted quietly.

“Very,” you agreed, grinning. The tension in his posture easing as he leaned back against the couch. “I just don’t understand how someone like him can take up so much of your attention.”

“Well, he’s my friend,” you said simply, “but you’re the one I am lucky enough to be dating.” He didn’t respond immediately, but the small hum he gave you was enough to know he understood.

You leaned your head against his shoulder, a warm silence settling between you. After a moment, you added playfull, "It’s kind of cute seeing you like this.”

Shadow rolled his eyes but couldn’t stop the faint smirk from appearing on his face. “You’re insufferable.”

“And yet, here you are,” you teased, earning a quiet chuckle from him as the sun dipped below the horizon.

After a moment of comfortable silence you hear Shadow mumble something under his breath that makes your heart swell, "I love you to."

[glamourscat]

Literally love your Tim Drake works 🙏 so good to see him get some hype!!

Can I please request Tim Drake with Gn!reader teasing him about essentially being his sugar baby? Not using him obvi, but like as a broke college student myself, I know he would simply not be able to witness our conditions without stepping in. Idk if he's ever canonically gone to a dorm, but I think explaining the concept of having to wear a "shower shoe" to avoid communal shower fungus would be enough for him to just buy you an apartment for the next 4 years 😭 or looking in the fridge only to see the takeout box, bread, and ketchup combo cause groceries are toooo expensive 😭 The "damn bitch you live like this" meme personified

Sorry this became off-topic ramble-ly lol I just think it's funny how stressed he would be by his partner's early 20's ✨ broke era✨

a/n: when I tell I saw the request and immediately my fingers started writing😭 loved this! thank you so much, I hope it’s what you were looking for <3

cw: slightly suggestive towards the end

── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ── ♡ ── ⋅ ⋅ ⋅ ──

“For the love of—babe?” Tim’s voice rang through your college dorm room.

You looked up from the bed where you were working on some assignments, meeting his eyes as he crouched near the mini-fridge under your desk.

“Yeah, hun?” you said, eyebrows furrowing.

“What in the actual hell is this?” he exclaimed, holding up a few boxes of Chinese takeout and random half-open sauce packets—most definitely “borrowed” from fast food joints and restaurants alike. His face was a mix of shock and genuine concern for you.

“Ah, yeah. That was my dinner yesterday, my lunch the day before yesterday, and my breakfast… yep,” you said casually, shrugging as you went back to your work.

After all, it’s not like you’re the only one in this situation. Sure, you would have preferred to eat a proper meal, but broke students have to survive somehow, right?

“Babe… you are seriously surviving off of scraps? This can barely keep you fed, not to mention the—” he stopped as he looked over at your desk. “Now what in the hell is this?” His voice was slightly high-pitched as he stared at the shower shoes on your desk that you had forgotten to put away before he came by.

“Those? You’ve really never seen shower shoes?” you said with a hint of an amused smile. “Those are shower shoes, Tim. I use them in the communal showers since we don’t have individual ones. To avoid getting shower fungus or athlete’s foot, ya know? Stuff like that.” Your words were so calm, so… like you were used to it.

Tim stared at you with his eyes almost bulging out of his skull, genuinely trying to make his last remaining brain cells understand how this way of living was even possible on college grounds. But more importantly, how the hell were you supposed to live like this for the next four years?

“Where are you going?” you asked, confused, seeing him rush to put his jacket on.

“Put your jacket on. We are going to look at apartments right now. I think I caught something just by thinking of you living here for the next four years, malnourished and worst of all, using communal showers. What if something happened to you? Yeah, fuck that, c’mon” he said frantically, almost dragging you out of your dorm by the hand as you tried not to laugh.

“Don’t you think you’re overreacting—”

“No,” he cut you off. His expression was almost comical in how genuinely frantic he was. But, despite that, it was also cute seeing how much he cared for you.

“Tim, I know you’re concerned but, I mean—an apartment is a big thing. I—”

He stopped, turning you to face him in the empty hallway. His hands rested on your waist. “I have the money. You can’t live like this. Let me help my lover, okay? I will still do it, you know that. If not now I’ll gift you an apartment for Christmas since it’s around the corner.” His voice got lower. “Besides, we certainly can’t do anything in here, one moan from me—”

“TIM!” you said, flustered, a small embarrassed chuckle escaping your lips.

“What? It’s the truth. Everyone will be all up in our business…” he whined quietly as he got closer, his soft lips leaving a warm kiss on your neck.

“Besides—” he whispered in your ear, causing shivers to run down your spine, “I can’t sneak in with my Red Robin costume here. And you bet your ass I’m coming over after patrol so we can be together. Soooo, an apartment it is,” he hummed proudly, leaving another kiss, this time a soft peck on your lips. He pulled back with a soft smile that just made you want to squeeze his cheeks for how cute he looked.

“Still, I mean…” you sighed softly. “I feel like your sugar baby, hun,” you said half-jokingly.

“Yeah?” he said with a cheeky twinkle in his eye. “Then that just means I need to spoil my baby more. That’s the bare minimum I can do after all hmm?” He wrapped his arm around your waist, keeping you close as you two walked off giggling to yourselves like fools, yes, but fools in love.

© GLAMOURSCAT (all rights reserved. do not share, modify, translate and re-upload my work outside of tumblr)

[gastersreturn]

[GASTER'S RETURN CHAPTER 1] P.21/26

THE VERY BEGGINING

BEGGINING OF THE CHAPTER

PREVIOUS

NEXT

.

.

.

Just some thoughts :

AAAAA SORRY I'M A LITTLE LATE HERE

I had some issues with something next to the comic, and I still haven't figured out how to fix it~

It's okay, I'll try to do it quickly

So ! That's the end of the first scene of Chapter 1 ! Yeah I haven't said it before but I personally separate the Chapters in scenes, which is conversations or events like that (there is 10 in the first one, and one secret per scene)

I hope you like those new pages ! I have so much things to tell you about...pretty much everything that is happening here, because there is a LOT of informations, and all of them will be important for the rest of the Chapter. But I don't think I'll have enough place for that so instead I'll look at the comments and answer/react to whatever you guys say x)

See you soon ! And happy Holidays !

[elizzsush]

“Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” | DC - Batman WIP

Batfam X Isekaied Reader

— in which you, a DC fan gets isekaied into and gets saved by boy wonder. Only to get mad at him and B… it’s only after you calm down (still mad at them) you piece together what actually happened… but should you tell them?

AU: Soulmate (?), isekai Rating: Sfw

Note: You and Damien are the same age and shit. I don’t really remember how old he is but for the sake of fanfiction let’s age him up to 18 (or down I looked it up and it said he was 37? I have no idea where that info was from comic are confusing)

Warning: Y/N swears a lot and makes a like one sexual joke? _________________________________

One minute you were in the greatest, most magical place in the world: Six flags. And the next you were in the sewer. To say you were pissed and totally confused was an understatement. Those funnel cakes by the entrance were calling your name- you were gonna get one before you left! Now instead of that sweet cake smell it was replaced with the smell of shit and piss and whatever else lived in the sewer.

Sixflags was suppose to be relaxing- doctors orders. You just needed to relax and distract from-

You were in the sewers. You dreaded to think about what you may have stepped in while on your quest to find a manhole cover.

So yes, you looked like an idiot in a Superman cape carrying a Wayne enterprises mug wondering around the sewers. The mug was half off and made you feel like you existed in the world of DC instead of the regular merchandise… and the cape was because who doesn’t get a cape when they go to six flags? Or at least bring the cape they already bought with them. Looking back, you blamed the mug. Anyway, you were wandering around this horrible sewer with water greener then green. It seriously looked toxic… when you heard this horrible roar…

You glanced back from where you came- looking towards the sound, when you heard it again. So, like any sane person. You broke out into a sprint.

Bad ideas, because it heard you and was coming closer now.

You seriously doubted you would be able to outrun this thing for long. It was getting closer and rapidly. But, thankfully, luck was on your side- because you saw a manhole cover!

Climbing the ladder you pushed the thing open-

Only to almost get ran over by a fucking car! “Watch it!” You cursed at the speeding car, a certain finger proudly in the air as you climb out. Momentarily forgetting about the creature that was chasing you. Remember that you slammed the man hole cover shut in a hurry.

But, did you think you could compete with some monster when it comes to the battle of strength? Yeah, didn’t think so either. It blasted the manhole cover off of its neat little spot and you hurry back and away from the road. “What the- oh my god.” You breath in relief when the thing was too big to actually climb out of the sewers. “Killer croc… okay… I’m losing it… whatever it is…” you try and breath out to collect yourself but you were interrupted by the sound of a very angry lizard man… thing. Crocodile? “Okay fuck off!” You shouted angrily at the villain and rip your cap off. “Abusive aunts or some shit is hard but by god your annoying!” You huff and run away because that just made him more angry and you didn’t want to stick around for that.

You did run away while waving two fingers at him, each from the middle of two of your hands but that was neither here nor there. You just needed to walk away and clear your head-

And…

You bumped into someone on your little escape. A chest of a fucking cosplayer. “My day couldn’t be going worse- oh my god, Fuck you Comic Con nerds!” You swore at the boy in black, red and green. “Six flags was suppose to be fucking relaxing!” You swore at him and turned away to go the opposite way only to bare witness to the snarls of a certain croc

“get back here!” He made the fucking ground shake.

“Fuck you and your shitty Damien cosplay, I am out of here.” You turn and ran from him only he to met with the silhouette of a bat… man, it was fucking Batman. “Oh I wonder who it is? Bruce Wayne, no fucking duh, Go fight the idiot on acid and leave me out of it.” You hissed because you were cornered. You tend to lash out when your cornered. He approached you quieter now. “…Oh um, I’ll take the crocodile, thanks.” You spoke as you backed up only for him to make the ground shake harder-

“Fine! Boy wonder then god damn. At least he’s hot!”

“How do You know our names?” Boy wonder piped up. He was suddenly standing beside you.

“Are You dense or really into role play?” You hissed at them. “I don’t know what kind of budget your little prank crew is working with but screw off!” Just then the crocadile managed to ruin the ground around him and break free- resulting in Batman and Robin to fight him and you-

The sane one to run away, “I’m so suing six flags for this- didn’t sign up for their fucking role-play shit.”

—————————————

Okay, so after adjusting. You were no longer in six flags- nor some rich nerds cosplay special effects whatever. Hell you didn’t even somehow end up on a movie set shooting for the next Batman. “Gotham more like god dammit, right?” You joked to yourself, and the old women next to you. She just looked at you weirded out and oddly disappointed before shaking her head. “Okay, Fuck me then.”

So, yeah, you were feeling a lot of emotions. Hey, you can adjust to this! Because no way in hell was getting back to your world worth being involved in whatever episode or comic plot this whole thing was. Yeah no, fuck that. You made a checklist.

1. Get out of Gotham (metropolis was lovely, Superman was cool-)

2. Get enough money to fuck off to some corner of the world no one knew about.

And finally 3. Live peacefully knowing you’ll never get that funnel cake.

The only problem? You didn’t have any money, food, shelter, phone, money again, or anything besides the clothes on your back. And you were craving funnel cake. Yes, you were poor in Gotham. That was basically a death sentence.

At least you had a mug. A stupid, useless mug. Hey, at least you can beg for change with it! “I should rob people.” You mutter to yourself because, that seemed like a good easy way to get money- the old women next to you however eyed you warily and moved her purse. “Not you, we’re cool Margaret.” You sent her a wave and a wink and got up. This plan would work.

It was this or sell the Justice leagues names to villains. Which- hey that could make cash and make you dead!

—————————————

Despite what people will tell you, stealing is fun.

Who would have guessed- your a natural pick pocket! If pick pocketing was running past women and tugging their bags away. “My bag! My purse!” Okay, maybe you had a bit of a sick sense of humor but you were desperate! And you made 132 dollars and 25 cents. Had it been two days? Yes, had you been pepper sprayed twice? Yes again, but you avoided it!

The only regret you had? Why hadn’t it been marvel? Marvel just seemed easier to live in. Yes the world did end but it bounced back! You sighed and threw a penny in the air. You were honestly tired. Two days was a long time to go without a bed. You couldn’t get a job either, you tired and needed so much to prove you were a serial killer or a thief- which included a birth certificate you didn’t have and so much more. Background checks would be the death of you. Even at that small cafe you met Margret? Yeah it was Margret. “Well we’ll well, if it isn’t Gotham’s newest petty criminal.”

You dropped your penny. Leaving you with 24 cents.

It was Jason fucking Todd.

“If I die, at least make it by those thighs.” You said solemnly, accepting your death. “I mean seriously, you squat or something?” You did a wolf whistle and now you were being detained. Okay, you tried.

You never claimed to be better then a man. And if you did you lied.

“I got her B.”

.

.

.

.

“Banananannaan Batman! Da Na!” You sang as Batman’s Batmobile pulled into the bat cave. The same one you had been dragged too. “He’s the crime fighting vigilantes who works alone! Besides Robin, Nightwing, Gordon, the Justice League, batgirl, Red Robin, red hood, Oracle, Barbra, um… I know theirs more help me out jay bird?” You sang as he excited the car. “He refuses to kill the joker who’s a mass murder ands death would save thousands! It’s Batman! The hero man! Danananana!”

“How do You know?” Batman asked as he walked towards you.

“The Song? Oh I improvised. Hard to find rhymes for Batman, hero man is pretty good though, huh?” He fucking punched you! “Fuck! What the hell dude? Wait are you the angry Batman who’s quieter or the nice Batman- god it’s so hard to know which one I ended up with.”

“This is serious.” Dick Said as he grabbed Batman hand and pulled him away from you.

“Heard of coping? penis?” You rolled your eyes, “this is kinda how I do it.”

“You sold our information, or Superman’s information too a villain. Tell us why and how you knew it and we’ll let you go.” He continued, “our friend is in serious danger now because of you.” He gritted his teeth looking upset.

You just rolled your eyes and licked your now bloody teeth. “Would have sold your guys information for a lot more then I got on me. Living large with eight dogs- maybe cats? Don’t know how I feel about animals actually. Which do you prefer dogs or cats?”

“We need to know how many villains you sold us out too.” Dick said calmly, his face getting closer to your own. “Now.”

You smile and lean closer to him. “You free after this?” He backed away with a frustrated look and Batman put his hand on Dick shoulder. “Oh B is tapping in now- great!”

“Your the only person who knows who we are.” Another voice said you looked behind you and saw Damien.

“That you don’t trust. Maybe check your inner circles before punching a poor thief! God… you’d think the world greatest detective would fact check- oh wait isn’t the greatest a chimp or something? I’ve always loved monkeys- oh maybe I’d get a monkey for my pent house.”

“You have no family, no friends, no birth certificate- before last week you didn’t exist. There are no records of you being born or traveling to Gotham. Who exactly are you?” Batman leaned close to you.

You stayed silent, thinking of your options. "I was with a traveling circus..." You began, "Then one day someone rigged the equipment for my parent's routine and then batman adopted me, and that was how I began robin..." You spoke solemnly, you noticed how a certain blue suited bird man tensed up. "Aw, don't tell me we have the same backstory!" You accused the Nighwing, "well one of us is going to have to change it and I hate to tell you, but I make it work."

"She knows more about us than our names... or at least more about Nighwing." You heard a robin mutter, the red one.

"Okay being red was his thing” you look at red hood, “and you took it, so you have no place to talk about me and penis's copycat situation- Even though I totally did it first and he should change it." You nudged your head towards Red Hood, "Kinda like how you took his role as Robin, but you know what Ima stay away from that can of worms haha." You laughed awkwardly as Jason stood up from behind you and walked towards you menacingly.

"This is a Major Turn Off for me you know? The costumes just don’t do it- maybe if you strip-“ and your mouth was tapped shut.

_____________________________________NOTE: Y/N is supposed to be Deadpool coded because I was watching Deadpool and laughing my ass off earlier.

[colorlessjay]

Oh my Jack, I’m obsessed with your BTTF AU.

I know it might not quite fit into your AU but I’ve been giggling to myself about the potential hilarious misunderstandings. My fav being s6 Dean attempts to put together all the little clues Cas has dropped about his husband but like comically wrong (plugged-all-the-numbers-into-the-right-formula-and-somehow-got-the-wrong-answer wrong)

Dean in the guest bedroom with sticky notes and red string: ok so he wears flannels and he has an Impala that looks suspiciously like baby and cas mentioned he had hair longer than mine and that he was a hunter and Sam and I knew him and they were friends for a while before anything romantic happened, and I’m clearly not hanging out with cas as much …

Dean (having a panic attack): son of a bitch I know who cas is married to!

Dean (mopey and despondent and slightly horrified the next day and definitely not with puffy eyes): Cas, I, I have to know, your husband, it’s not *gulp*

Cas (visibly worried he’s given too much away and s6 dean is still so repressed that the bi realization is throwing him into despair)

Dean whispering (trying not to vomit): Sam?

Cas (too stunned to hold back his reaction): *hysterical laughter* oh, no, dean! I’m not married to sam.

Dean (nearly passing out from relief): thank god!

Cas (under his breath): this is why my dean asked me to love him anyways when his past self asked an incredibly stupid question

Honestly I fucking love that so much, I think I have a way to shoe horn that into the AU

kinda like this:

It's been two days

It's been two days stuck in the future, and Dean feels frustration bubbling up in him as his brain tries to puzzle piece everything together

It doesn't help that Cas won't tell him shit

Best friend my ass!

Okay, maybe he's being a bit of an asshole saying that. Cas- This Cas has been nothing but a great host. He always has food in the fridge, he has extra clothes he lets Dean borrow, he doesn't get all up in Dean's personal space like his Castiel does

But at the same time, Cas keeps giving him these looks, like he knows something Dean doesn't

which sure, yeah, he knows a whole hell of a lotta things. It's the future. But Cas us smug about it. At least it feels like he's smug about it. It doesn't help that Cas is out of his holy tax accountant get up and dresses like a regular John. Least his taste in band shirts has improved thanks to his husband

Husband

yeah, that still causes a record scratch in Dean's brain every time he thinks about it

And he's got no problems with it! Love is love and all that. Who Cas wants to take home and put a ring on is his own business. It's not like Cas is a guy, he's an angel. A beam of holy light or whatever. So technically, he's not gay (Not that Dean would have a problem with that!). But it does make his husband some kind of monsterfucker

which is also totally fine. Cas is a catch. Good for both of them

So why doesn't Cas say who his husband is?

Is he scared Dean would judge him? Well fuck him for that! Dean's not a homophobe! And Cas is his best friend! He'd be supportive of him and his monsterfucker husband! Rainbow streamers with Cthulhu and all!

Unless Cas is more worried about Dean's reaction to who he's married to...

which is dumb. From what little Cas told him about Mr. Mystery (Cas refuses to tell him his last name), he wears a shit ton of plaid flannels, he cooks a lot with Cas, likes to read (a guess he got from the 'shared library' Cas showed him), is pretty handy around the house, has long stupid hair and loves his dog Miracle...

Holy shit

Dean was on his feet before he even knew what he was doing. He practically kicks down the guest room door and runs around the house looking for that damn Angel/half angel/not angel

He finds Cas in the backyard with Miracle, playing fetch on the wide stretch of land he owns

Cas looks all too comfortable in his loose, light washed jeans and Metallica shirt, his hair wind swept, probably from running around with Miracle while Dean took a nap.

Cas spots Dean approaching and waves at him with a smile, only to drop both as he sees Dean's determined march

Dean can't blame him. He has no idea what he looks like right not but he knows what he feels

like he's gonna explode

"Dean-" Cas starts but never gets to finish as Dean grabs the future version of his best friend by his shoulders and holds him still, grounding himself as he speaks

"Did you marry Sam?"

The question hung in the nice summer air for around two, three beats. Miracle even pausing where she sat with a stick in her mouth, her little head tilted to the side

Cas' usual stoic face breaks into surprise and Dean holds his breath

Only for Cas, Angel of the Lord, to burst out into an explosive laughter that rocks Dean's entire being

Suddenly Dean has no idea how to react, because Cas is... he's got the biggest, gummiest, most hysterical laugh he's ever seen. It completely transforms his face that Dean is questioning if he's still taking nap, and this was all just some weird dream where he thinks Cas is almost...

cute

Get it together, Winchester!

By the time Dean shakes away his shock, Cas is already on the ground, on his back, clutching his sides as he laughs into the sky like Dean just told the joke of the century

"Hey!" Dean snaps, his face feeling warm for reasons he doesn't have time to think about. "Answer the damn question!"

"No! Hahaha!" Cas says in between laughs, Miracle coming to his side to paw and bark at her owner

"Why the fuck not???"

"No I mean-" Cas takes a deep breath and wheezes, coughing into his fist as he tries to get himself together

Dean grumbles impatiently, popping a squat just to poke at Cas' arm to get him to answer

Eventually Cas' laughter does die down and Dean finds himself staring at just the biggest, smuggest grin he's ever seen on Cas

"I mean no, I did not marry Sam. And I believe he his reaction to you saying that would be much funnier than you asking me" Cas, for the love of God, giggles.

And it shouldn't be cute. Cas is an old man and he's giggling and Dean shouldn't feel... whatever the fuck it is he's feeling right now that's not frustration

But oddly enough he's not frustrated at all

he's relived

Is it because Sam's not gay or because Cas didn't go barking up his brother?

Why does that matter? It shouldn't. Stop thinking about it

"Dean" Cas starts, his laughing having died off and his smile softer as he stares up at Dean "Why do you ask?"

There's... there's a tone to Cas' question that Dean doesn't like. So, he does the one thing he's good at

He pushes himself up and shakes back into himself

"Well you weren't telling me jack, so I thought I'd throw in wild guesses and hope I predict something" A cool lie slip out but even he can tell Cas doesn't buy it

Damn it. Those eyes always seemed to see through him

Cas doesn't call him on his bullshit, but he knows. Dean knows he knows and it bothers him further

"Yes well. Perhaps if you keep guessing, the truth will come out eventually"

"yeah... eventually"

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

Anyways. Drabble done. Doot doot

[pretentious-blonde]

stay for dinner?

pairing: steve harrington x reader

summary: a stupid conversation, past insecurities, and a boy who thinks he isn’t enough—until you show him he always was

warnings: steve self-sabotaging, crying

a/n: part 4, can be read as a standalone too. PLS give me ideas for these two if you liked them!! they currently have my heart <3 (may or may not write nsfw, if i get an idea for that, so be on the lookout!)

series masterlist

Steve set a freshly rewound tape on the countertop. The sign on the wall stating: Be kind: Rewind, clearly had not been making an impact on the general public. And if that wasn’t enough, he was desperately trying not to roll his eyes as a certain curly-haired boy to his left, perched on the desk as if it was a lounge chair. 

Dustin had been pleading with him for the past ten minutes—some elaborate scheme involving a comic book store in the next town over. Steve had already told him “no” at least four times, but the word didn’t seem to register in the boy's vocabulary. He became aware he was fighting a losing battle as the kid refused to budge. 

“Please?” Dustin implored again, swinging his legs idly as he watched Steve rewind the day’s returns.

“For the last time,” Steve muttered, eyeing a slightly worn Back to the Future case with mild dismay, “I already told you no.” 

He was trying to figure out how he could make his declaration any clearer. 

Dustin huffed, crossing his arms. “I can’t drive yet, remember?”

“Yeah, well, that’s not my problem,” Steve shot back, sliding the VHS into its designated slot behind the counter. 

“I’m telling you, it’s only like a fifteen-minute drive. Tops.” Dustin glanced at the clock pointedly. “Plus, your shift ends soon. What else are you gonna do?”

“I don’t know—go pick up my girlfriend?” Steve flashed him a wry smile, letting the term roll off his tongue with pride. 

Girlfriend.

It still felt new, but it also felt good. He thought it would take longer for him to assimilate to his new title as boyfriend, but he fell into the role as easily as breathing. Something that felt completely natural.

No longer was he the designated driver for his friends after work, he did the stuff that boyfriends do. And that included spending most evenings with you.

There were a few times you insisted he needed to spend time with his own friends, but he still wished you were there. Hopefully, you would be comfortable enough to tag along with them in the future. God knows he was more than willing to show you off. 

“Oh yeah?” Dustin sat up, his posture straightening. “So it’s official now?”

A tiny grin tugged at Steve’s mouth. “Yeah.” He closed a drawer of tapes and rested his hands on the counter, staring at Dustin with a slightly smug expression. “It’s official.”

“Good for you, man. Seriously. That’s nice.” He said, seemingly out of obligation rather than pure interest. Then, snapping back to the real topic at hand. “But I’m not leaving until you agree to take me to the comic book store.”

“That’s like—” Steve glanced at the clock above the television sets for rent, “an hour from now.”

“Yep,” Dustin said, unabashed. “I’m persistent.”

“Look,” Steve sighed, massaging the tension in his temples. “She’s coming here once my shift is over. I can’t just bail on her to drive you around.”

Dustin’s face lit up. “Then bring her along! Maybe she’ll like it!”

“Yeah, no. That’s not happening.” A short laugh escaped Steve before he could stop it. “I’m not dragging her to a comic book shop just so you can blow your allowance on some special-edition nonsense.”

“Hey, it’s not nonsense!” Dustin protested. “They have the rare issues I can’t find anywhere else. And who knows, maybe your girlfriend’s into comics!”

“Why do I even argue with you?” Steve groaned to himself, returning to the stack of tapes in front of him—anything to have an excuse not to keep looking at Dustin’s pleading face. “You just keep going and going. It’s exhausting.”

“That’s because I know you’ll give in eventually,” Dustin quipped, flashing that self-assured grin that made Steve want to either adopt him or toss him out a window—possibly both.

“Yeah, well, not this time,” Steve insisted, though the conviction in his voice wavered slightly.

Dustin was right about one thing: Steve did have a tendency to cave when it came to the kids, especially the ones he’d practically helped raise. But, as he filed away the last of the returns, a pang of guilt rippled through him. 

He didn’t want to let you down. Truly, he didn’t. You were swinging by just to see him. It was a Sunday after all, so he was finishing early, and he wanted to spend as long as he could with you. 

Unfortunately, he did feel a little regretful about letting his friend down. Perhaps he was spending a bit too much time with you—which wasn’t a crime—but he was struggling to recall the last time he spent alone time with Dustin. 

The kid must have caught the trace of hesitation in Steve’s expression. Finally, a crack in his armour. 

“Look,” he said, in a rare moment of sincerity, “just ask her, okay? If she says no, I’ll drop it.”

Steve mulled that over, pressing his lips into a thin line. “Fine,” he relented, not hiding his exasperation. “I’ll let you pitch your case when she gets here.”

Dustin pumped a fist triumphantly. “Yes! You won’t regret this.”

“I regret a lot of things, Henderson,” Steve muttered under his breath. “Now let me finish up so I can actually clock out at a decent time.”

“Deal,” Dustin agreed, but he made no move to vacate the desk. Instead, he just kept swinging his legs, watching with interest as Steve tried to busy himself with the returns.

The kid was relentless—he had to give him that.

He was half-leaning against the counter when you walked in, the lazy Sunday light spilling through the windows, making him look almost golden.

You instantly spotted him, features slightly fatigued but nonetheless tender. The boy who inserted himself into your daunting new life, making you feel less alone. The boy who made you feel safe whenever your eyes met—warm, reassuring, sometimes bashful if you caught him at the right moment. 

Your gaze drifted to the curly-haired kid perched on the front desk, chattering away while Steve fiddled with cases. You hadn’t met him yet, but had an inkling as to who it might be from you and Steve’s many conversations. 

The second Steve caught sight of you, the slight crease in his brow eased, and a genuine smile lit up his face. He straightened, set the tapes aside, and practically melted as you approached, arms opening to fit you just right.

“Hey, sweetheart,” he murmured, pulling you into a warm hug. His vest brushed against your cheek. You tilted your head just enough to feel the soft press of his lips against your temple. 

Even though the two of you were official, your cheeks still reddened at his action. It often seemed he didn’t mind that you had company, or maybe he just didn’t care. Or perhaps he didn’t realise how brazen he could be.

Either way, you weren’t going to stop his displays of affection. You enjoyed knowing he was proud to call you his.

“Hi,” you said quietly, relishing the way he lingered in that hug, not quite wanting to let go just yet.

“This is Dustin,” he turned, gesturing to the boy with the curly hair. “I told you about him, remember?”

“Right!” You offered the boy a friendly smile, glad your assumption was correct. “So great to finally meet you. Steve mentions you all the time.”

Dustin stared for a moment, then blinked like he was recalibrating. 

“Um… hey,” he said, his tone surprisingly timid. “Yeah, you too.”

That made Steve grin even wider. 

Dustin, rendered speechless? He never thought he would see the day. He looked at his awestruck expression and glanced over at you smugly. 

Yeah, he did that. He isn’t quite sure how, but he did that.

“You ready to go?” you asked, glancing up at him over your shoulder. At your question, Steve let out a slow breath, raking a hand through his hair nervously. 

“Apparently, someone wants me to be their personal chauffeur,” he said, with a pointed look at Dustin. “Says I need to drive him to a comic book store.”

“A comic book store? But there’s one like four streets over, right?”

Steve spread his hands in exasperation. “Exactly what I said!”

Dustin threw his hands up. “That one sucks! Their selection is terrible and they get new shipments like once a month!”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped. He sounds like a tiny professor with the fervour in his voice. Steve shot you a look of abject guilt, like he was already imagining leaving you hanging.

“Would I be the world’s biggest jerk if I did this?” he asked, the uncertainty evident in his tone. He hated to be the one to make decisions like this, picking sides and disappointing someone in the process. 

“No, honestly, it’s fine.” Gently, you shook your head. “It’s still early, right?” You gestured to the clock on the wall—three o’clock, give or take a few minutes. “I’ve been all over the place today, honestly an hour or so just to get everything in order would be amazing.”

“I mean…” Dustin started, looking between you and Steve, not sure if you're just being nice or actually had something to do. “You’re welcome to come with?”

But you waved him off with an apologetic smile. “Thanks, but seriously, I’ve got a lot to catch up on at home. You two enjoy, please, don’t let me stop you.”

Dustin beamed at you, grateful for the positive turn of events. Steve, on the other hand, still looked torn, torn between not wanting to inconvenience you and also not wanting to bail on his friend. 

“Alright,” he relented, exhaling in relief when he realised you were genuinely okay with this. “I’ll… yeah, I’ll drop him off, and we’ll probably poke around for a bit if they really have something he’s looking for.”

“No worries.” You leaned forward, reaching for his hand, not missing the smitten glaze in his eyes as you squeezed it. “Swing by mine after, okay? I should be done by then.”

Steve’s posture relaxed, gratitude colouring his eyes. “Okay,” he murmured, “deal.” 

He leaned in, cupping your jaw and pressing a gentle kiss to your lips this time—a sweet, unhurried gesture that made your cheeks flush—again.

There was a shuffle behind him, and you could sense Dustin being extremely polite (or maybe just temporarily stunned) enough not to comment. Steve pulled back smiling, as you made your way to the exit.

“See you, Steve,” you said, backing toward the door. You cast a quick wave at Dustin. “Later, Dustin.”

“Uh, bye,” Dustin managed, raising a hand in farewell.

And with that, you slipped outside, leaving Steve to shoulder his shift into driver mode—though, judging by the fond look on his face, he wasn’t half as annoyed about it anymore. 

He just got to rub it in Dustin's face, that yes, he had a sweet girlfriend. And yes, she really was that nice. All the time. Probably when she shouldn't be.

As far as he was concerned, if you needed it, he could haul Henderson around for an afternoon to give you some free time. 

“You,” Dustin said, pointing at Steve once you were gone, “are one lucky dude.”

Steve snorted, but it came out more like an affectionate laugh.

“Yeah,” he murmured, casting a glance at the door you’d just left through. “Yeah, I am.”

Steve drummed his fingers on the steering wheel as he cruised down the main road, Dustin rambling away in the passenger seat. The kid’s feet bounced on the floor mat, all brimming energy. Steve had to admit—it was nice to see him so pumped. But that didn’t stop him from cringing slightly at every new question that spilled out of his mouth. 

Right now he was the subject of a very intense interrogation, and while he had mentioned he was seeing someone new, clearly that was not enough information for the teenager sitting next to him. 

“So,” Dustin said, leaning forward, “this girl—your girlfriend—what does she do?”

“She’s writing for the paper in town.” He said, feeling a surge of pride in his chest as he got to gush about your achievements. “Gonna be a big-shot journalist someday. That’s what she wants, anyway.”

Dustin let out a short laugh, amused in a way that made Steve raise an eyebrow. “Why’re you laughing?”

“I’m not, I’m just—” Dustin shook his head, lips quirked in a grin. “You and your… type.”

Steve gave him a side-eye glance. “My type?”

“Oh, c’mon,” Dustin scoffed, half-exasperated, half-teasing. “Smart writer girls. You know—the go-getter, brainy ones.”

Steve’s initial instinct was to shrug it off, but something nagged at him.

He felt a twinge of déjà vu that he didn’t love. 

“Yeah, okay, I can sorta see what you mean.” He spoke cooly, but the heat rising in his chest was anything but. 

“Admit it,” Dustin pressed on. “You like girls that are just a little… out of your league.”

Steve bristled, tightening his grip on the wheel. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, think about it." Dustin shrugged, apparently not noticing the defensiveness in Steve’s tone. "The girls you’ve dated. They’re super smart, super driven. It’s cool how you have managed to pull this off twice.”

Steve forced a laugh, though it felt hollow on his tongue. 

Pull this off? That the hell was that supposed to mean?

“Right, yeah, thanks for the vote of confidence, Henderson.” He cleared his throat, rolling his shoulders in an attempt to shake off the uneasy feeling creeping into his stomach. “Well, if they like me, then I must be doing something right.”

“For sure. No denying you’ve come a long way.” Dustin nodded, tapping the dashboard with one finger. “Remember how you used to act at Scoops? Man, you were just—”

Steve groaned, cutting him off as he steered into a small parking lot beside a rundown building with a neon sign advertising Comics & Collectibles. Not wanting to relive failed moments from his youth any longer than he had to. 

“Alright, we’re here.” He put the car into park, his posture now rigid. “You’ve got thirty minutes, max. Then we’re outta here.”

“Thirty minutes?” Dustin repeated, eyes bulging. “But—”

“Non-negotiable,” Steve said flatly, giving him a pointed look, suddenly in a sour mood. “I’ve got places to be.”

“Fine.” Dustin grumbled under his breath but ultimately acquiesced, grabbing his backpack and popping open the door. “Thirty. Starting… now.”

He hopped out, the door slamming shut behind him. Steve exhaled, jaw still tense. He watched the kid dart across the lot and pull open the shop’s glass door with excitement.

Alone at last, Steve let his head fall back against the headrest. 

Are you really that much out of his league? The question looped around in his mind like a broken record.

He could laugh it off—he had enough practise doing that—but he started remembering how he felt so inadequate around Nancy. 

You made him feel needed, cared for, that much was certainly true. But how long would you need him, really? 

The notion stirred up old insecurities he’d thought he’d buried. 

The rational side of his mind told him he had nothing to worry about. If you liked him—chose him—that was enough, right?

Sighing, he pulled out his watch and glanced at the time. Twenty-nine minutes until he could drop Dustin off and head straight to your place. He suddenly wished the clock would run faster. 

Because if there was one thing he couldn’t wait to do, it was lose himself in you. If only for the evening.

Your familiar doorstep was supposed to feel welcoming, as it had so many times before, but Steve’s mind was a bundle of half-formed worries as he stood in the familiar space. 

He hated to admit when things got to him, but Dustin’s teasing—albeit lighthearted—had, indeed, gotten to him. The doubts clouding his mind like a soft static he couldn’t push away. 

The one statement he kept circling back to was the whole "out of his league" idea. I mean, yeah, from the outside looking in, it could be the case. But he had something to offer, right?

If nothing else was true, he at least had a decent enough face, and his personality had come a long way from high school. Hopefully, other people could see that too. 

He forced his mind into silence as he took a deep breath, knocking twice in quick succession. 

When you opened the door, dressed in soft, comfortable clothes that looked unfairly adorable on you, he felt something in his chest unclench. Even on a lazy Sunday—one where you had every right to be tired from your own job—you still radiated a classic warmth, one that he was selfishly drinking up, grateful to be the one basking in it. 

“Hey,” you said, smiling so easily that a bit of the tension in his shoulders melted.

“Hey, angel” he echoed, stepping inside when you ushered him through the threshold. The air hit him first—warm and fragrant, hinting at something savoury on the stove. “Wow, it smells amazing in here.”

Little did he know, you had already taken care of most of your errands that morning. Knowing you’d be spending the afternoon with Steve, you’d gotten up a little earlier than usual to make sure everything was in order. But when you saw the desperate look on Dustin’s face as he pleaded with your boyfriend to take him to the store, an idea sparked. A little surprise for him—one you hoped would land well.

“Figured I’d make dinner.” You gave a pleased little shrug. “We don’t always get Sundays like this, and I know you had to work, so…”

“Wait,” he said, blinking, “you made dinner?” 

His eyes softened as he took in your words, letting them settle in his chest. He tried not to feel indebted—but God, he wished he stopped to pick up flowers or something.

“Yup,” you confirmed, leading him toward the kitchen. “Nothing fancy. Just has to reduce on the stove for a while longer, but I wanted it ready for when you came by.”

Steve’s heart twisted in two directions at once. On one hand, it was the sweetest gesture, and certainly one that should have put his mind at ease. On the other, his mind kept whispering to him. He questioned if he was even worth this kind of effort.

The bluntness of the thought shocked him a little, but he couldn’t render it completely false. He felt like he owed you something. 

“You didn’t have to go all out for me,” he murmured, smiling at you in an almost apologetic manner.

“I know.” You reached up to brush a stray bit of hair off his forehead. “I wanted to.”

He swallowed, nodding. “Thanks, angel,” he said softly, the pet name rolling off his tongue with more tenderness than he intended. Like he wasn’t supposed to be using it. “Seriously.”

You tugged him gently into the living room, where he sank down onto the couch, exhaling a sigh of relief. The day had felt so long—the slow hours, Dustin’s energy, the drive out of town—but now, in the familiarity of your apartment, it all felt calm. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t quite right. 

You curled against him, fitting neatly at his side as he draped an arm around you. The soft haze of a lamp cast a cosy halo over the bookshelf across the room, the very one he’d helped you build not long ago. He couldn’t help but notice the extra row of spines he didn’t remember seeing before.

“Hey,” he teased, nudging your head and gesturing to the neatly lined novels. “I thought you said no more books until you’d read all the ones you owned.”

You lifted your head to follow his gaze, a faint grin tugging at your lips. “I did read them. Which means I’m allowed new ones.”

“All of them? In, what—two weeks?”

He barely finished reading Salinger in senior year, and that took him months to work through. 

“About that,” you said, sounding almost sheepish. “They were good, and I got on a roll. You know how it is when a book just sucks you in?”

He didn’t really, but now he felt as though he should. 

“That’s…impressive.” He replied safely, not wanting to bring down your mood with his lack of literature knowledge. Especially when you seemed so pleased that he was there in the first place. 

You used that moment to shift closer, your cheek pressing against the broad line of his shoulder. He felt the warmth you emitted, and if he allowed himself, he could imagine that maybe you enjoyed his company as much as he loved yours. 

“So,” you said, glancing up at him with genuine curiosity. “How was work? How’s Dustin?”

Steve hesitated, momentarily tripping over the idea that you’d be interested in the mundane details of his shift or the kid’s comic book haul. But the way you were watching him—like you actually cared—made him sigh and lean into it.

“Pretty standard, y’know?” He ran his free hand over his jaw, trying to sound casual. “Dustin got what he wanted, as usual. He’s like a force of nature—hard to say no.”

You smiled, amused. “That kid seems unstoppable.”

“Definitely unstoppable,” Steve agreed, a soft chuckle escaping him. 

Eventually, after his debrief of today's events, you got up to check on dinner, stirring the pot and releasing another wave of that delicious smell. He watched, heart clenching again with gratitude and guilt. 

He could see how careful you were, minding the heat, adding a pinch of seasoning, taking the time to make something special just for him.

He wondered if he could do anything to help, something to be useful again. 

It felt so domestic that for a second he let himself imagine a future where this could be the norm—where the two of you shared little traditions, teased each other about groceries, woke up side by side. Equally happy with what the other had to offer. 

Soon enough, you both ended up at the small kitchen table, plates filled with a hearty meal that made him groan with delight after each bite. You just laughed, pleased by his genuine appreciation. 

“Good?” you asked, grinning as he nodded enthusiastically, mouth still full. 

It was good. Really good. Made only better by the fact that you made it for him.

Why didn’t he think of something like this?

At this rate, he was going to have to pull a screw loose from your bookshelf just so he could prove himself again. 

When you’d eaten more than enough to satiate your hunger, you cleaned up together, bumping hips in the process, trading playful glances as you washed and dried the dishes.

He followed you back to the couch, happy to follow where you dragged him hand first. You spent the rest of the evening chatting aimlessly about books, random gossip from your workplace, and his occasional run-ins with Robin or the kids. 

There was nothing particularly grand or momentous about it; just a gentle closeness. Though he was worried it was too mundane, if his crappy jokes were enough to keep this thing going. 

All too soon, the clock on the wall struck a sober reminder: Monday morning was lurking around the corner, and you gave him an apologetic look.

“I hate to kick you out,” you said softly, “but I’ve got an early start tomorrow.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” He pretended to huff in annoyance, though the corners of his mouth twitched in a small smile. You were the one with a real job, after all. “Responsibilities and all that.”

At the door, you hugged him, chin hooking over his shoulder. He could smell the faint scent of laundry detergent on your jumper, mixed with the lingering aroma of dinner. It felt safe in your arms—safer than he’d felt all day.

“Thank you,” he whispered against your hair, voice thick with more emotion than he intended to reveal.

“For what?” you asked, pulling back just enough to look him in the eyes, sensing his unease.

“For dinner,” he shrugged, trying to hide the lump in his throat. “For letting me hang out… for, y’know, being you.”

A smile lit up your features, and you rose on your toes to press a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“You don’t have to thank me for that.”

It should’ve been reassuring, but that old worry nipped at him once again. 

You gave him a playful nudge out into the hallway. “Drive safe, okay?”

“Always,” he promised, mustering a half-smirk. But the moment the door closed behind him, the warmth drained away like someone had shut off a heat lamp.

By the time he slid into his car and started the engine, he was already thinking about Dustin’s words, "girls out of his league." 

Mentally, he scolded himself. But the thought stuck like glue, stubborn and unmoving. He glanced at your apartment window—light still glowing from inside—and his chest ached with longing. 

You liked him. You even cooked for him, fully aware that he would have been just as content with a crappy pizza or diner fries. 

So why couldn’t he let himself just be happy?

With a quiet sigh, he pulled away from the curb, leaving the comfort of your home behind. And as he drove through the sleepy streets of Hawkins, he couldn’t quite loose the hollow sense that he was missing something.

Good things always had a way of escaping him, and he couldn’t imagine how this would be any different.

You’ve never felt unsettled since moving to Hawkins—at least, not until now. 

Work at the Hawkins Post can be demanding, but those pressures were somewhat tangible: deadlines, edits, the joyous feeling of being undermined for basic input. You can handle all that. But suddenly finding your supposedly devoted boyfriend slipping through your fingers for reasons you don’t understand? 

That feels far worse than any work stress could ever be.

All week, you’ve told yourself not to overreact. Steve might just be busy or tired or dealing with something personal. You didn’t want to pry, and after coming clean about your own struggles, you assumed he would do the same thing. Take his own advice or whatever. 

But the excuses keep piling up, and you can’t ignore the changes in his behaviour. It started with some half-hearted reasons to hang up the phone in the evenings—when he used to plead with you to stay just little longer—usually ending up with one of you falling asleep on the line, listening out for the others breathing to steady before ending the call. 

The whole week he didn’t even mention spending the weekend together. Usually that was sacred time, with him arguing with Kieth and Robin to please let him have the evening shifts rather than the morning. He enjoyed waking up lazily next to you, not rushing out the door before he had his fill. 

By Saturday, you decide you can’t wait for answers any longer. You head out, crossing the familiar street, eventually pushing open the door to Family Video. Robin’s face pops up from behind the counter, the bell signalling a customer. 

“Hey,” Robin calls, stacking tapes. “If you’re looking for Steve, you just missed him. Morning shift—he took off like ten minutes ago.”

“I know.” You attempt a polite smile. You were already aware of his absence, watching his BMW speed away from the store, feeling even worse when it turned the opposite direction to your place. “I actually, uh… came to see you.”

“Me? Really?” She seemed half-surprised, half-intrigued.

“Yeah. I… I think I need your help.” The words spill out in a rush. You don’t realise how anxious you sound until Robin sets aside her tapes, giving you her full attention. “I’m sorry for springing this on you, but I’m kind of at a loss. You’re Steve’s best friend, and—” You pause, cheeks warming. “I don’t really know many people here yet.”

Robin’s expression softens. “Hey, hey, no need to apologise. What’s going on?” Her eyes narrow, the smallest spark of protectiveness lighting behind them. “Did Steve do something stupid? Because I can give him a good slap if—”

You lift your hands, shaking your head quickly. “No, no, it’s not that. Or… not exactly?” Your voice wavers. “I just—wanted to know if he still… likes me? Because he’s been distant, and I can’t think what I did wrong.”

Robin’s mouth opens on a short laugh, but then she sees you’re serious. 

“Oh. Wait—you’re for real?”

Heat pools in your cheeks. It sounds so ridiculous when you say it out loud, but you press on. You were here already, so if she knew something, you would rather just get this over with. 

“He’s barely returned my calls, and this weekend he hasn’t even tried making plans. Last week I cooked for him—nothing fancy, just dinner—and he acted so weird about it, almost like he wanted to be anywhere else. I keep replaying it in my head, wondering if I came on too strong or something.”

She watches you carefully, reading the tension in your posture, the way your hands keep twisting into your sleeves. 

“Okay, okay,” she says, gentler now. “I promise I’m listening. You think you scared him off?”

“I don’t know. Maybe?” You look at the floor, biting your lip. “This past week, he’s barely tried to see me at all. Usually he’s so—well, so Steve, you know? But now it’s like he’s ignoring me, except he’s still in town.”

Robin sets aside the tapes completely, leaning her elbows on the counter. Yes, she knew how Steve had been acting, practically besotted with you. So this fast turnaround was odd, but then again, Steve had his moments. Though they usually came with more of an explanation than this. 

“That’s… not good,” she concedes. “But trust me, from an outside perspective, he’s been head over heels for you since day one. My guess is he’s the problem, not you. It might be in that thick skull of his, you know? It doesn’t help that it’s covered with all that hair.”

“I feel so stupid, but I didn’t know who else to ask." You let out a shaky laugh. "I’m just… worried I messed up somehow. I know it’s weird—”

“Hey, you’re not weird.” Robin shakes her head, reaching over to squeeze your arm gently. “You’re worried—totally normal. Let me talk to him, okay? I’ll figure out what’s going on.”

Your eyes widen. “No, you don’t have to do that. I don’t want to cause drama—”

She interrupts you with a wave of her hand. “Drama is my middle name, apparently, thanks to Steve. Let me handle him. I’ll be subtle. Trust me.” 

A mischievous grin tugs at her lips. You have a feeling she’s never been subtle in her life, but you’re too tired to argue.

“Alright.” You sigh. “Only if you’re sure. And please, maybe don’t mention I… came here? I don’t want him thinking I’m this desperate, clingy girlfriend who needs constant reassurance.”

“Desperate? Clingy? He’s been the clingiest guy I’ve ever seen—until now.” She snorts. “Don’t beat yourself up. I know he adores you. He’s probably just… freaking out about something. He’s good at that. Self-sabotage is his specialty.”

The tight knot in your chest loosens just a bit, but her words set you on edge a little. You instantly think that you are the one freaking him out, coming on too strong. But you decide that silence is the best option here. 

“Thank you,” you say, voice still unsteady. “I really appreciate it.”

“Of course.” She offers a supportive smile. “Hey, you’re welcome to drop by anytime, you know? If you wanted someone else to talk to or something, but no pressure.”

“I might take you up on that.” You tell her, relieved. 

“Good. Now go home, put on some music, try to relax. I’ll handle the Harrington situation.”

You’re not entirely sure what that entails, but her confidence is reassuring. After one more grateful nod, you thank her again and head back outside. Not quite feeling relief, but certainly not feeling any worse.

Steve juggled a soda cup in one hand and a stack of tapes in the other. He had the evening off yesterday and had spent it binge watching crappy rom coms while trying to ignore the nagging feeling in his chest. Trying to find some solace in those mundane guys managing to snag the unattainable, popular girl. They never showed what happened after the whole kiss and get-together thing. Life imitates art in a way.

He also had the day off today—normally something that would have him beaming from the inside out—but he made the decision to spend it alone. A decision that had been laced with anxiety, which now leaked into a mild depression. His nerves overshadowed any relief he felt about his schedule. 

He unlocked the door to Family Video, hoping he’d be able to stash the unchecked tapes and slip out before Robin noticed the cloud hanging over him. No such luck. 

She was early for her shift, waiting at the counter, arms crossed, jaw set. Her eyes locked on him the second he stepped inside.

“You.” She spoke the word like it was a challenge. “Explain yourself.”

He paused, heartbeat picking up, not expecting this level of hostility.

“What did I do now?” he asked cautiously, setting the tapes down. “I planned to bring them back before opening, I swear, I just—”

Robin cut him off with a sharp wave of her hand. “Not that. Your girlfriend came in here yesterday, totally distressed. She thought she did something wrong. Actually asked if she might’ve scared you off by, and I quote, ‘making you dinner.’”

Steve’s stomach flipped. A wave of guilt slammed into him, sharper than he’d expected. He swallowed, remembering how you’d stood in your apartment, smiling so warmly, how you’d carefully stirred a pot of sauce just for him. 

God, he’d been such an idiot.

He thought that you would have been too busy with work this week to notice his silence. He thought he hid his emotions better than that. 

“She thinks that?” he managed to say, voice tight. “She really asked that?”

“Of course she did.” Robin slammed her palm on the counter. “Now, are you freaking out, or what? Because if you are, just say so.”

“Me? Freaking out?” A shaky laugh left Steve’s lips. Freaking out was putting it mildly. “I’m fine, Rob.”

She shook her head. “You’re clearly not,” she persisted. “Last week you’re gushing about your new relationship, and now it’s radio silence. What’s up with you? Spill it.”

He knew there was no getting out of this, well, unless he literally turned and ran out the store. But that seemed a bit extreme and would likely only delay this conversation. 

He dreaded this part. The whole talking about his feelings and his subsequent inadequacies. 

“It’s going to sound dumb,” he muttered, gaze dropping to the floor. 

“More so than usual?” She teased.

“Robin.” 

“Right, no.” She muttered. “Wrong time. Sorry.”

She sighed and walked round the counter so she was standing directly in front of him. Both so she could gauge his reaction and bring him some semblance of comfort. “Talk to me.”

“It’s like…” He trails off, looking away from her pitiful expression.”She’s going places, you know? Really going places. I’m just… here.”

Her expression softened a fraction. “What brought this on?”

Steve felt the memories swirl—Dustin’s pointed remarks, the creeping sense of déjà vu reminding him how Nancy once left him behind. 

“Dustin,” he admitted after a beat. “He said some stuff… about me only dating smart girls who are outta my league. It got stuck in my head, okay?”

“Henderson?” Robin’s eyebrows shot up. “Steve, he’s a kid. A kid with zero concept of normal relationship drama. You’re really letting that get to you?”

He tried to muster a shrug, but his chest felt tight. No matter what angle he looked at it, it was a statement that he couldn’t disprove. 

“He’s not entirely wrong,” he mumbled. “I don’t have a big plan or anything. My job’s okay, but it’s not exactly a career, and I’m certainly not saving big money—there’s no future path. Meanwhile, she’s got all these ideas, ambitions, everything.”

Robin stared, seeming torn between wanting to hug him and wanting to smack him upside the head. 

“God, you’re self-sabotaging again.”

“I am not—”

“Yes, you are!” she insisted, stepping forward. “Textbook Harrington behaviour: good thing’s happening, so you panic and decide you don’t deserve it. I just watched her walk out of here looking like someone kicked her puppy. She literally thinks she scared you off.”

Steve’s gut twisted further. He pictured you, eyes glassy with worry, probably replaying every moment you’d spent together. After your heart to heart the other day it became clear that you tended to overthink, he didn’t realise you could be doing that because of him. 

The notion that you blamed yourself made his chest ache. 

“I… I didn’t mean to make her feel that way,” he said, voice hollow.

“So don’t.” Robin pressed her lips together. “Fix it. You’re good at that sort of thing.”

He exhaled shakily, setting the soda on the counter before he spilled it with his shaky hands. “How?”

“You have today off, right?” Robin asked, folding her arms.

“Yeah,” Steve said.

“She does too,” Robin replied pointedly. “And it’s not even 10 a.m. yet. So do something nice for her. Show her you’re not running away. Because, believe me, if you keep pulling back, it’s gonna look like you are.”

Steve nodded, trying to will away the tightening in his throat. “What do I even plan? Something big? Flowers? Fancy dinner? She’s already done the cooking thing—”

Robin let out a dramatic sigh, rolling her eyes. “You’re not exactly wooing the queen of England. Just do something that says ‘I appreciate you and want to be around you.’ Could be a picnic, a drive, a movie—whatever. Don’t overthink it.”

He let out a short, humourless laugh. “But that’s kinda my specialty these days.”

“Clearly,” Robin muttered, though her tone was gentler now. “Look, the point is, she’s into you. She made that super obvious. The only person doubting it is you. So cut it out.”

Steve paused, letting her words settle. A small seed of hope unfurled in his chest, reminding him why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

“Thanks,” he said quietly, gaze locked on the floor. Then he lifted his head, determined. “I’ll, uh… yeah, I’ll figure something out.”

Robin’s tense posture eased, and she gave a curt nod. “Good. Because if you break that girl’s heart over your own insecurities, I’ll murder you. In a loving, best-friend sort of way.”

Steve managed a small grin. “In a loving way, sure.”

“Get out of here before Keith shows up.” She smirked, waving him off. “And don’t forget to call her, for God’s sake.”

Snatching up his soda again, Steve headed for the door, heart still pounding but a faint sense of relief settling in.

From the moment Steve picked up the phone at ten that morning—voice shaky with nerves—he knew he was taking a gamble. 

He could feel the cautious edge in your tone, the coolness that suggested you were bracing yourself. Still, he invited you over to his place for that evening, willing the dread in his stomach to subside. He told himself it would be okay, that he’d find the right words. 

Robin had told him to talk, so talk he would.

Meanwhile, you spent your Sunday feeling a dread so heavy it threatened to pin you to the floor. 

Why else would Steve have been so distant all week? The only logical conclusion was that he’d decided this wasn’t working. After all, you’d had that conversation with Robin—maybe she’d reported back to him, told him something that sealed the deal. 

It made sense in a heartbreakingly logical way.

By the time five o’clock rolled around, you felt like you’d gone through every stage of grief. You dragged yourself to your car and made the drive toward the Harrington residence, a place that had once felt so exciting in its promise. 

Now it loomed large in your mind as the site of an upcoming breakup. When you arrived, you saw plenty of parking space—his parents, you recalled, were almost never home. You turned the keys of the ignition and exited the vehicle. 

At least no one will witness what’s about to happen. 

You made your way up the steps, breath tight in your chest. Just as you lifted a hand to knock, the door swung open, revealing Steve, hair meticulously styled, smelling faintly of aftershave. The pang in your heart only sharpened. 

Did he seriously dress up for this?

“Hi,” he managed, the word catching slightly, like he was just as nervous as you.

“Hi,” you replied curtly.

Steve cleared his throat, looking awkward in a way that tugged at your heart—no matter how resigned you felt. “Uh, I think you should come in.”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “All right.”

Inside, the house felt cavernous, every footstep echoing. He led you to the living room, and you couldn’t help but glance around, remembering how you used to marvel at this place—huge, yes, but also warm with the potential of summer get-togethers, that pool you’d joked about wanting to try. Now, the thought made your stomach twist. 

Guess you won’t be swimming here after all.

You both settled on the couch, an awkward space between you. Steve’s fingers twitched at his sides, and he couldn’t quite meet your eye. The hush was almost suffocating, until finally he spoke, voice low and unsteady.

“Look, um… I think we need to talk.”

Your heart thumped. So this is it. You drew a shaky breath, forcing yourself to sound calmer than you felt. 

“Okay. Sure.”

He tried not to grimace at the coolness in your tone. You’d never sounded so distant before, and it killed him to know he caused it. Robin’s words about “explaining himself” rang in his ears, so he opened his mouth—only for you to beat him to it.

“Listen, Steve,” you began, voice thick with tension. “I… I get what’s going on here.”

Steve frowned, something twisting in his chest. “Huh? You do?”

“Yeah," you nodded. "I kind of guessed it.”

“Really?” A flicker of confusion passed over his features. “You did?”

Exhaling, you steeled yourself, trying to keep your composure. 

“Look, I’m really sorry if I made you uncomfortable. Maybe you didn’t appreciate me crying about my job the other day, or maybe I was too forward cooking dinner for you. I get it. I just… I can’t think of anything else I did wrong.” You forced a hollow laugh. “So I assumed it must be that. Maybe I scared you off.”

Steve’s brows shot up, genuine shock colouring his face.

“What you did wrong?” he echoed. “Wait—what are you talking about?”

You swallowed. 

Get it over with. 

“Aren’t you… breaking up with me?”

Steve nearly jumped out of his skin. Every worst fear he had about you feeling hurt was now a reality. 

“What? No! No, I’m not breaking up with you.” He spoke in quick succession. “Are you crazy? I’m not doing that.”

The wave of relief that swept through you was immediate but fleeting.

“Then what is this?” you asked, voice unsure. “It’s obvious you’re not feeling this anymore. You’ve been ignoring me all week, and I’m not gonna force you to stay if you don’t want to. I just… I figured there’d be a reason.”

He grimaced, running a hand through his hair and messing up that careful style. 

“There is a reason,” he admitted. “But trust me, it’s not you.”

“Yeah,” you snorted, a weak attempt at humour that came out more sad than anything. “That’s what everyone always says when they break up with someone.”

Steve let out a frustrated breath. He had never been good at this. You were the one who was good with words, not him. 

“No, really. It—fuck, just let me talk.” He paused, gathering himself. The realisation that you thought you caused this somehow made his heart twist painfully. If you only knew how not your fault it really was. 

God, what a mess. 

He stared at the floor, feeling the weight of all his insecurities. 

“Listen,” he started, voice shaky, “I’m not good at this, so just give me a moment.”

You watched him, a pang of sympathy slipping through your self-protective shell. He looked… rattled, more so than you’d ever seen him. Despite your own heartbreak, you nodded, letting him gather his courage.

“Okay,” he said, exhaling slowly. “So, I don’t have the best track record with relationships. Or even friendships. I thought I’d gotten better, but apparently not.” He let out a short laugh, eyes flicking up to meet yours for a second—only to dart away when he saw the concern there. 

It was hard to think when you looked at him like that. Like he was something to be pitied.

“What I’m trying to say is… I always seem to get left behind. My first girlfriend left me for someone else. My old friends ditched me as soon as I wasn’t cool anymore. My parents ignored me because I sucked at school.” He swallowed hard, voice thickening with old wounds. “Then I met you, this super smart girl who clearly has the world at her fingertips—you’ve accomplished so much already, more than I ever could. It made me think: how could I hold onto that? How could I keep you interested in my life when I work at a video store and spend my free time with a bunch of teenagers?”

Your heart clenched at the raw vulnerability in his words. For a second, you just stared, feeling tears prick the backs of your eyes at how wrong he was about himself.

Without thinking, you reached out and slid your hand into his, the contact gentle but resolute.

“Steve,” you whispered, voice unsteady but filled with honesty, “how can you think that about yourself?”

His gaze snapped to yours, confusion etched in every line of his face. 

You swallowed, trying to steady your breathing, running a thumb along the backs of his knuckles. 

“You really don’t see what others see, do you?”

He frowned, looking lost. “I… I’m not following.”

Blinking back tears, you gave a soft, exasperated laugh. 

Of course he couldn’t see, your sweet, stupid boy.

“Steve, the first time we met, you literally lugged and built me a whole bookshelf—remember that? You practically passed out hauling the thing up the stairs.”

“Shit,” he muttered, cheeks tinging pink, “you noticed?”

“Yeah, I noticed,” you said, remembering the moment you started falling for him. “And I saw you freaking out over the instructions, but you tried to act like you totally had it under control.”

“Damn…” he hung his head. “Not as smooth as I thought I was.”

Not in the slightest.

A weak smile tugged at your lips. 

“Maybe not, but that’s overrated anyway.” Taking a breath, you tightened your grip on his hand. “Steve, you’re a giver—through and through. So you don’t have some swanky office job—who cares? You have something better. You’re selfless, you help people, you care. That’s worth more than anything else, trust me. Whenever you talk about your friends, it’s like a never-ending list of names. You’re rich, Steve. Richer than money.”

He felt tears burning behind his eyes. This was not part of the plan, for him to be openly crying while you praise him repeatedly. That should have been his job tonight. Making you feel better. 

“Shit, sweetheart,” he croaked, “you’re gonna make me cry over here.”

“Me too,” you admitted, voice thick with emotion. “We’re both lame.”

“Yeah,” he managed, a watery laugh escaping, “the lamest.”

A heartbeat of silence passed, and then he lifted his eyes to yours with a shy, almost bashful smile, one you hadn’t seen all week. It looked like him, the real Steve you fell for.

“Come here?” he asked, sounding almost boyish in his nervousness.

You couldn’t move fast enough.

He leaned in, and for a moment, everything else fell away—the big house, the rolling ache in your gut. His lips pressed to yours, soft at first, hesitant, then deepening as relief coursed through both of you. 

He couldn’t quite stop smiling against your mouth, which made the kiss a bit clumsy, but neither of you cared. The tenderness overshadowed any awkwardness. It felt like coming up for air after being underwater for too long. When he finally pulled back, he let out a shaky exhale, one hand still cupping your cheek. 

“I missed doing that,” he murmured, brushing a thumb over your bottom lip.

“Me too,” you breathed.

He swallowed hard, glancing away as guilt resurged. “I’m really sorry I made you feel like you messed up. Like I didn’t—like I wasn’t into you anymore. I am. I really am. Probably too much”

“You should have told me,” you scold him, his brown eyes still glassy. “Aren’t you the one who preached about sharing problems?”

A choked laugh tore from his throat. “Yeah, well… ‘do as I say, not as I do.’”

“You’re impossible,” you teased, though the affection in your voice was unmistakable.

Suddenly, a shrill beeping noise cut through the charged atmosphere, making you both jump. 

“What is that?” you asked, pulse still fluttering from the kiss.

Steve’s eyes went wide. “Oh, crap, the timer!” He scrambled off the couch, practically tripping over the coffee table. You followed him with a bemused smile as he disappeared into the adjacent kitchen.

Seconds later, you found him shutting off the buzzer, cheeks flushed. 

“I, uh… made dinner,” he confessed, looking adorably sheepish.

Your eyebrows shot up. “You cooked?”

“I mean, I stole your idea,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “Rob said I should do something nice, so… here we are. My parents were never around much, so I learned a few things. It’s probably not as good as yours, but I figured it was worth a shot.”

A laugh rose in your chest, part delight, part lingering emotional exhaustion. “Robin told you to do this? I gotta thank her.”

He set a potholder aside, shrugging with an embarrassed smile. “She said I had to make it up to you, so… yeah. I guess I’m returning the favour.”

“You’re full of surprises,” you said softly, stepping closer. 

Steve let out a quiet breath, a small, relieved grin curving his lips. As you moved into his space, he reached out, fingers ghosting along your arm before settling at your waist.

“And you, deserve it.” He murmured, voice brimming with affection. “Really sweetheart, you deserve the world.”

Something in his tone made your heart clench. Before you could respond, he leaned in again, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow, tender—altogether mesmerising. 

He cradled your face like you might vanish if he wasn’t careful, as though keeping you close was the only way to convince himself that this was real. You tasted the faint salt of his earlier tears, felt his almost giddy smile against your mouth, and the mix of sadness and relief and overwhelming softness made you cling tighter to him.

It was the kind of moment that made the ache worth it, the kind you knew you’d replay in your head a thousand times.

You finally broke apart, just enough to catch your breath. Foreheads touching, you could see the hint of a shaky grin still hovering on his lips. 

“I guess this means we’re not breaking up?” you asked playfully.

“Absolutely not,” he shook his head vigorously. “But hey, you might change your mind after you try my cooking.”

“Hey!” you protested, giving his shoulder a playful shove—no malice behind it at all. “I’m not that cruel. Even if it was terrible, I’d never tell you.”

“And there you go being way too good for me,” he chuckles, but this time it feels more like the joke he was aiming for. 

One that he knew deep down was not true.

[asksonicverse]

How did Emerald and Shade end up rooming together?

Were they just the two leftover? Otherwise I would have thought that Shade would pick Eight since they‘ve worked together during the metal virus arc.

Is Shade embarrassed that he got turned? Does he feel cringe now? Is he aggressively dodging that 'I told you so'? Is that what this is?

[ Creator Special! ]

Okay: first note! Sorry for the lack of updates the last two days :D I’m working on ironing out a few bits to Paradox and Prisms story and I’ve been a bit busy with life things! In the meantime: behind the scenes!

-

Emerald and Shade ended up together because, yes to all of your reasons.

They were the final ones left and while I did briefly consider putting Eight and Shade together, I decided against it because while Sonic and Shadow don’t hate eachother in IDW, I wouldn’t call them close enough yet to share.

Going to be real, I don’t think Shade and Emerald really talk. They just mutually agree “ok, pillow wall, you get that side I’ll get this one” they sleep, wake up, and leave the tent.

also I loved how you worded this ask it was hilarious: short answer yes

Same thing for Eight and Bandi, except Eight is curled up all the way on the far side of the tent and their pillow wall is twice as tall.

I wish I could do a bit more with Eights touch adverseness and show it but he’s been ASLEEP.

Also no one rooming with boost was very mutual with all.

Everyone saw an extra tent and was like “uhh boost you can have that one dude” (he kicks in his sleep)

I will reply DAMN YOU!!!! /lh

But yes!! Don’t worry my friends, I won’t ONLY focus on Paradox and Prism. I will do little mini comics of dynamic development between all the others.

I also want to start doing more Shadow and Shadow and Sonic and Sonic’s interactions. I feel like right now I mostly have Shadows and Sonic’s just interacting with their versions and I’m like?? Make friends guys!!

Okay so the way I’m approaching this:

The only Sonics in the same “timeline” are Classic and Emerald.

While Emerald (and other sonics and shadows) have experienced the same/similar events, doesn’t mean he was there for those versions. That might not make sense idk it’s 1 am.

So like, for SATBK, he does recognize Lancelot, but it’s not the Lancelot he knew.

For our SATBK story, it’s the exact same, except King Arthur and everyone had some weird magic spell cast on them that made them weird, Arthur has memory loss, game events happen, memory back, peace restored! Yay.

So yeah, they could have a good chat about it but still different.

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