#steph finds it obnoxious

[violent138]

The batkids all complain or roll their eyes when Bruce is utterly unshakeable in the face of disaster/conceals injuries/doesn't explain the whole plan to them, but secretly they can't deny the relief that he's a constant rock they can latch onto and trust.

[tigerlily-cream-soda]

OK wait, I just had the best timkon fanfic idea:

What if Tim went missing during his brucequest and isn't there when Kon comes back from the dead. He obviously wants to find his boyfriend, so Kon goes to recruit the best spy in the caped community to help him, and lo and behold, that person is Stephanie Brown (aka Tim's ex girlfriend (who kon hates)).

So they retrace his steps all over the globe, and the whole time kon is like 🙄😑😒 and steph is like 😚😉🥰✨️, but eventually they bond over shared experiences (and trauma) and come to be really close friends. Bonus points if Cass comes along ofc!

Someone PLEASE write this, I am begging you 🙏🙏

[jo-harrington]

Insouciant (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Pairings/Relationships: Older!Eddie Munson/Reader

Warnings/Themes: Mutual Pining, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Found Family, Allusions to Previously Unmentioned Trauma (Eddie), Suicidal Thoughts

Note: I've been just feeling a way lately. Overwhelmed. A tiny bit hopeless. Unfortunately I have too much I want to do and write before I meet the end so I can't off myself quite yet.

And while this might not be something I do in practice regularly, I wholeheartedly believe that Eddie would. Especially an Eddie who's pulled himself out of the pit of the Upside Down and found a new future elsewhere in Hawkins. Finding hope in the hopeless.

You can find my masterlist here.

Please do not interact if you are not 18+.

Enjoy!

---

Insouciant - definition, noun or adjective. free from concern, worry, or anxiety; carefree. nonchalant.

"There you are," Eddie's voice is sharp and clear over the snaps and hisses and crackles of the bonfire that you'd been staring into for most of the night. "I've been looking all over for you."

You don't turn your head towards him. Instead you just take a sip from your now-warm can of Old Style and sigh, "Well it shouldn't have been hard. I don't think I've gotten up from this chair since I got here."

He snorts and falls into the shitty lawn chair next to yours, wallet chain clattering flatly against the plastic. Shit the plastic even groans in protest a little as his gangly limbs flop to and fro so he can get comfortable on this remnant of summers past that has been residing in Jen's mom's garage for the past too-many-years.

It's obnoxious, like him, but you like how obnoxious he is, so you have to hide your smile in your can as you take another sip.

There are a lot of sounds tonight.

The flat thunk of beanbags against the cornhole boards out in the front of the house, Joe over by the grill telling a story and the accompanying laughter as his stories often elicited, the drone of cicadas from the trees past the paint-peeling fence, and the bonfire crackling in front of you.

And you chose to stay right in the middle of it all. Sometimes chatting, sometimes laughing. But silent for the most part.

Together, but somehow very separate from the party.

Alone, yet overwhelmed more by the flurry of sounds--thoughts--in your head, than by your friends.

"You didn't need to come tonight if you weren't feeling it," Eddie offered and sipped his own beer. "Fuck, if I'd'a heard that someone else was gonna stay home, I would've too. It's hot as shit out here; I can feel my balls sticking to my legs."

You can't help the chuckle that comes out of you and you finally turn to look at him.

You look at him, looking at you. You see him. You've seen him all night, even when you weren't looking. It's not hard to see Eddie Munson. It's never been hard.

"You get what you pay for," Joe told everyone when he first brought his new metalhead coworker around to meet Jen and Steph and Ben and you at your first official Jen's Mom's Garage beer session of the summer. New to town, new to the state, with puckered pink scars along his jaw and arms, and a mouth that just wouldn't stop. "Which isn't much."

You'd argue that wasn't the case though; either part. Eddie was everything. The life of the party and a pain in the ass, with too many secrets to boot, but the longer he hung around Joe and Jen's group of misfits, the more he opened up.

At least, he did to you. Because you saw him. Saw the ticks and twitches, saw his little superstitions, saw the way he flinched when birds flew past him, saw the way he called Christopher the Dog Topher instead of Chrissy like everyone else did. There was something there, something etched into his skin.

You never asked, but he always told you. Because you saw him.

And he saw you too.

Which is why he leaned into the arm of the lawn chair and asked, "what's the prob, Bob? You said it yourself, you've been here all night. You're usually out kicking my ass at bags by now."

Your eyes dart back and forth between his, and for a moment you enjoy the way the bonfire warms and melts those chocolate depths.

There's a sparkle there, a spark. Some little bit of joy that was obvious even on the days when he was annoyed or cranky. It's there now, amidst the vast sea of worry he's aiming at you.

You turn back to the fire so you don't have to look at him anymore.

"How do you do it?" you ask after a beat.

"Do what?"

You're silent for a moment before he repeats himself.

"How are you so..." you fight for the word. There's not one that really matches him. So loud and unassuming all at once. "Insouciant."

"Gesundheit."

"I know you know what it means. I've heard you use bigger words than that, asshole."

"Ah, you're swearing," you can hear the grin in his voice. "That's how I know you're fine."

"Answer the question."

"Can you use it in a sentence please?"

"Eddie."

"Alright," he scoffs a laugh. "I don't know? Why are you asking me?"

There's laughter from the group at the barbecue and cheers from the few people out front. Joe announces that burgers are almost ready and Jen's mom asks if the cooler needs more ice.

"Because my shit doesn't even seem...important," you wave a hand at the fire. "And it still feels like the earth is gonna open up and swallow me whole at any second."

"And you want to figure out how not to feel like that?"

"I want to know how not to feel like I want to step in front of the Metra during the Monday Morning commute," you snap at him.

Well, not at him. At yourself. At...the world.

You close your eyes for a brief moment and then knock back the can and chug the rest of it so you don't have to talk. Once the can is empty, you make to throw it to the ground, but Eddie's hand darts out to grab your wrist.

His touch is gentle, thumb caressing over your skin for a moment before he speaks.

"What makes you think I don't feel that way too?"

You had considered that before many times when you shot, what you thought was, some secret look across a driveway only to find him watching you. Oftentimes you'd see the flash of self-hatred in his eyes before he turned away from you.

Because you saw him.

But even in that sea of darkness, the spark was still there. He would turn away and could still laugh at a joke or...start a story of his own...or...

Or...or...or...

And you couldn't.

All you could do was sit in miserable, numbing silence.

"How do you stop?" you whisper.

"Beer," he answers almost immediately. You try to pull your wrist from his grasp but he tightens his grip. "No hear me out. Not like...become an alcoholic beer. But I wanna go and have a Guinness in Ireland beer."

"Hmm."

"And candy. Did you know that the Tootsie Roll factory is an hour away from here and they sell 10-pound bags of rejects? I want to get one and see how much I can eat before I puke.

"And you know I write fantasies right? Well I used to play Dungeons and Dragons. That's how it all started. Actually, I guess this is twofold. I want to be able to DM a game with everyone for one thing. And I want to see if my writing is worth anything for another. Can't do that if I'm splattered across the Lake Street Metra Station."

You admit that he has a point.

"But how do you stop it from getting you down right now?" you ask. "How are you so..."

You struggle for a word again but Eddie is quick to supply one.

"Insouciant?" he offers and you nod.

You watch as he takes a deep breath, as he licks his lips and swallows hard.

"Because when everything gets to be too much or I have a bad day, or...or I'm literally back in the pits of hell having bats bite me until I'm ground chuck again...and I think it would just be easier to end it than to keep putting up with that bullshit...I think that I can't do any of that until I can find the courage to ask you out for breakfast. And that's exciting enough that I can forget about my problems. Even if it's just for a little bit."

Your heart stops in your chest.

And damn if he isn't right that for that split second nothing bothers you and there's nothing in your head or your heart except for that.

"See so when I do ask you out," he repeats and your heart goes from petrified to racing, "you have to say yes because otherwise I have nothing to look forward to anymore."

"By that logic," you reply slowly. "You can't ask me out because then how are you gonna look forward to our first date anymore."

"I'll just look forward to our second date."

He says it like it's the easiest answer in the world.

His hand tightens on your wrist for a second and it grounds you back down to earth before he lets go and sinks back into his chair with a beatific smile. He takes a sip from his beer and then looks at the bonfire.

You also turn and stare at it, beer can still in your hand, thoughts flitting through your head at a million miles an hour. Not doom-filled thoughts like earlier, but instead excited thoughts, worried thoughts--but the good kind of worry--and you...you smile.

"Hey!" Joe hollers across the yard. "Burgers are done!"

"Fuck yes I'm starving," Eddie hops to his feet and then holds his hand out to you. "Burgers, sweetheart?"

You look up at him and see that sparkle in his eye, and for a second...you can almost feel one mirroring his form in yours. A little brightness shining through the din.

And your problems are still there. The weight on your shoulders.

It might not ever get better or be ok. Shit it might get worse. You can feel it creeping in.

But at least you have something to look forward to.

Together with Eddie.

[zulainsanity]

spankoffski hcs because im feeling silly

- ted still lives with his and peter’s dad

- ted occasionally pays pete to do his job for him, thats how pete makes his money most of the time

- petes suspenders are a hand-me-down from ted. ted isnt a very good brother but he gave pete the suspenders after finding out he got pantsed (and making fun of him of course)

- pete has to wake up ted so hes not late for work

- ted doesnt drive pete to school even though theyre both going downtown because he doesnt want pete “stinking his car up”

- pete used to wear an obnoxious amount of cologne because he saw ted doing it and thought it was good

- ted tries giving charlotte shoes because his dad sells womens shoes, but they never fit her

- on the other hand, the shoes that steph wore to homecoming were from pete

- pete used to have nightmares about tinky, he never knew why

[miryum]

"The Cruise"

Summary: Detective!Jason Todd x detective!Reader based on Jake and Amy’s relationship

Series Warnings: Swearing, descriptions of violence (but nothing descriptive), guns and other police stuff

Series Masterlist

Y/n was incredibly proud of her outfit. She had scoured all of Gotham’s tackiest stores and invaded their clearance sections, picking out the most obnoxious outfits she could find. Now, standing in the precinct, Y/n was wearing a Hawaiian shirt and cargo shorts. Her goal was to dress like a suburban dad and she had succeeded. “Okey dokey.” Y/n told Steph, “the car is picking Jason and me up in two minutes. You cool with keeping tabs on my cases while I'm on the cruise?”

Steph nodded. “You bet. I hope you two have a great time. You guys definitely deserve it.”

“I am psyched to go on this week-long cruise, just sitting around doing nothing,” Y/n gushed.

Jason finished talking with Dick when he walked over to Y/n, placing an arm around her waist and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You ready to go?” he asked. “I signed us up for ballroom dancing ‘cause it seemed pretty cool. Is that okay?”

Y/n nodded, beaming up at him. “Good-bye, coworkers!” she called. “Or as they like to say at sea… honk! Honk!” She imitated a ship horn, pulling down on an imaginary rope.

An hour or so later, Jason helped Y/n out of the car as she grinned, “this is so great.” The boat they were taking was a majestic thing and both of them were excited to have some time off from work. “Seagulls, check. The ocean, check. A gang of oldies in short shorts, check, check, check.” Y/n grimaced as a pack of elderly people walked past, showing way too much skin for her liking. 

“We are definitely on a cruise,” Jason muttered.

As the pair walked up to the ship, an attendant beamed and said in a customer service voice, “Welcome aboard!”

Y/n thanked the attendant before Jason pulled her away to their room. “So I was thinking we could partake in some vigorous activity before relaxing?” He smirked as he pulled open the door.  

Y/n hummed and laughed lightly. “Oh, that sounds like a good idea.” She tugged on Jason’s shirt and Jason pulled her towards the bed.

Suddenly, before the couple could continue, an announcement came over the loudspeakers in the hallway. The voice carried into their room and called, “The all-ages piano lounge is now open and serves bottomless margaritas.” Jason and Y/n looked at each other, not impressed. Jason buried his face in Y/n’s neck and began peppering kisses on her skin when the announcement continued and said, “we also serve a drink with a potato skin in it.”

Y/n popped up and exclaimed, “ohh! To the all-ages piano lounge!” 

Jason groaned and practically collapsed on her, but couldn’t help but chuckle. He muttered something and pressed a kiss to her jawline before saying, “alright, let’s go.” 

Y/n smiled and kissed him lightly. “You’re the best.”

“I know.”

“Welcome aboard, ladies and gentlemen, but especially ladies,” a man said seductively into a microphone when Y/n and Jason walked hand-in-hand into the piano lounge.

Y/n’s brows furrowed and she mumbled, “I know that voice.”

“Get ready. It's time for some smush songs,” the man said before he started to play the piano.

Y/n gasped dramatically and her head whipped to stare at the man on stage. “Roy Harper! The Red Arrow. He's here.” Jason looked around before finally noticing the man on stage.

From behind the piano, Roy said, “we got songs about smushing, songs for smushing to, songs for the kids. This is the all-ages piano lounge. My daughter loves my songs,” he commented.

“I can't believe he's here! I've been hunting him for years and now fate has dropped him right into my lap,” Y/n cried. “He's gonna be so surprised when he sees me.”

“Hey, L/n, you made it!” Roy called from up on the stage, waving enthusiastically. A spotlight moved to shine on Y/n and Jason. “What took you so long, darling?” Jason sighed and his face deadpanned.

“Okay, seems like he's playing it pretty cool,” Y/n muttered. “He’s probably more surprised on the inside.”

“Uh-huh,” Jason couldn’t help but chuckle tiredly, knowing that their entire vacation was now to be preoccupied by Roy Harper.

At the end of Roy’s song (Y/n had very patiently waited until his set was over), Y/n and Jason cornered Roy. “L/n, it's no coincidence you're on a ship. You won a free cruise without entering a contest.”

“You did what?!” Jason interrupted. 

Roy ignored him. “How do you think that happened?”

“I don't know.” Y/n stuck her tongue out, refusing to be caught in Harper’s trap. “Maybe it's because I bought Alvin and the Chipmunks: Chipwrecked, and the Internet realised that cruises were one of my interests.”

“Great film,” Roy complimented. “Why does no one acknowledge what great range Matthew Gray Gubler has to go from Criminal Minds to Simon?!”

“Damn straight.” Yn snapped her fingers in appreciation. 

“But the tickets are all me,” Roy admitted. “I brought you here 'cause I'm in peril.”

“Pfft. Peril.” Y/n scoffed. Jason wandered away to check out the buffet.

“Don't ‘pfft’ my peril.” Roy wagged his finger, one hand on his hip sassily.

“Pfft,” Y/n repeated.

“Somebody's trying to kill me,” Roy insisted. “I need protection, so I sent for my best friend.”

“I am not your best friend,” Y/n hissed. “I'm your worst enemy. Get that through your head.”

“It's this kind of bickering that makes us such an adorable couple.” Roy held up his hands in a heart. 

Jason returned from the buffet, holding a plate piled high with food. He offered a doughnut to Y/n and she took it, kissing him on the cheek before glaring back at Roy. “Whatever, Roy. You're under arrest.”

“You can't arrest me, darling,” Roy raised a brow, smirking. “We're in international waters, which is also why I can smoke as much weed as I want. Welcome to the high seas.” He snickered.

Y/n shook her head. “No, no way that that's true. Jay, tell me I can arrest him right now. I wanna arrest him!” She stamped her foot.

Jason shrugged and said, “Harper’s right. We have no jurisdiction. Technically this boat flies under the flag of Uzbekistan.”

“Uh-oh.” Roy said in a high, breathy voice, holding a theatrical hand up to his mouth. “Your boy knows about the Uzbeks.” 

“But the captain can have him arrested,” Jason reassured Y/n. “He has total authority on this boat.”

“Perfect.” Y/n grinned triumphantly. “Captains love me. Just wait until he or she finds out they're employing a criminal.”

Unfortunately, when the trio found the captain on the bridge, the captain said, “Yeah, about forty percent of the crew are criminals. It's hard to find normal people who want to live on a boat. I, myself, am a tax evader.” 

Jason raised a brow and Roy said, “yeah, if there’s anyone to use the fluffy pink handcuffs on, it’s him. Not Y/n/n. Or me.” Roy winked at Jason. Jason shot back an unimpressed look.

“I just need him locked up till we get back to Gotham,” Y/n pleaded. “Can't you just throw him in boat jail?”

Both the captain and Jason said, “It's called the brig.”

“How do you know so much about boats?” Y/n whispered to Jason.

“Roy’s my best lounge singer, and I need to keep people distracted,” the capitan defended. “Just between us, we're nearly out of ranch dressing.”

“On day one?”

“These people are animals. Listen, as long as he's on my boat, Roy Harper is a free man.”

Y/n had to resist punching the man.

“Jaybird, Y/n, welcome to my cabin, aka the Boom-Boom Stateroom.” Roy opened a cabin door with a flourish to reveal a grande suite. The large bed was covered in rose petals, ambient music was playing in the background and there was a full jacuzzi in the bathroom.

Jason’s lips parted and he had to admit that he was impressed. “This is a royale level suite,” he said. “This is for first-classers only.”

“Little perk of being Carousel Cruises' entertainer of the year,” Roy boasted. “You're welcome to chill here. It's the least I can do to thank you for protecting me.”

“Never.” Y/n poked him in the chest. “This protection scam is a scam. Do you honestly think you can fool me again just because you've successfully done it numerous times before?”

“My old boss wants me dead,” Roy protested. “I've been laying low on this ship with Lian, but I got word from a friend that they found me. I got Lois to take Lian in for a couple weeks since there's a hitman coming to end my beautiful life. That's why I sent you the free tickets.”

“No! No, no way. I'm not buying it. You can't get away from me again. Jason and I are gonna spend every second of our romantic cruise watching you.” She looked back at Jason and hesitated. “Assuming that’s okay?”

Jason was starting to think that Y/n had a bit of an unhealthy obsession with the Red Arrow. But if it was important to her, then he would go along with it. “Yep. That's what we're gonna do.” He flopped down on the bed, hoping that this thing with Roy would wrap up so he could spend some time with his girlfriend. 

“We have to find the hitman before he finds me. I'm guessing this'll take us all over the boat. That's an ENAC sitch right there. That’s ‘Every Nook And Cranny.’”

“Okay, so where's this hitman, Harper?” Y/n sighed.

“Look, I don't know who they sent, but he's on the boat.” Roy pulled out a sheet of paper. “Check out this manifest. Somebody boarded in New York named Henry Coles.”

“Henry Street and Coles Street, that's the corner of your old chop shop in Gotham,” Y/n said immediately. “It’s an alias.”

“My porter buddy checked out Henry Coles' cabin,” Roy continued. “He hasn't been in it yet. He's hiding somewhere on this boat ready to jump out and kill me at any moment. Probably creepin' around in my closet.”

“Or stowed away in a lifeboat,” Y/n murmured.

“Or hiding in a wall,” Roy added.

“Or holed up in the engine room,” Y/n grinned.

“Camouflaged in the shrubbery,” Roy snickered.

The two of them pointed at each other and said, “predator style.”

Y/n then remembered her place and groaned. “No. We are not having fun. You will not suck me in with your wily charms.”

Later that day, Jason had convinced Y/n to go to the exhibits on the cruise ship. “Oh, this ship was a transporter during World War two,” he oohed. “Did you know that they actually had to turn the barracks into another medical office because there were so many injured soldiers? The ship got shot at multiple times and sustained damage to the hull, it it’s still operational. It was bought by this cruise company thirteen years ago.” Y/n hummed along. Usually, she would be fascinated by this (or at least pretend to be fascinated), but her gaze was currently focused on Roy Harper. “Oh, and the ship fought in four battles. I wonder what types of weapons were used…” He glanced at Y/n, but seeing that she was more focused on Roy, he sighed and trudged away to explore on his own.

“Hey, little advice,” Roy called from where he was standing. “Jason is great. If you want to keep him, you may wanna be more receptive to his interests.”

“Now you're taking it too far, Harper.” Y/n shook her head and scoffed. “I don't need relationship advice from my criminal archnemesis.”

Roy held up his hands in mock defence. “I just want to see you two happy.”

“No. This is just another one of your lies, just like your fake hitman.”

“There is a hitman on this boat!” Roy sighed in exasperation. “Henry Coles is coming to kill me.”

“Excuse me?” An old man turned around, his voice wavering.

“What?”

“You said my name,” the old man smiled kindly. “I'm Henry Coles.”

“You're Henry Coles?” Y/n stared at him, her eyes wide.

“According to my medical alert bracelet.” The man nodded and tapped his medical bracelet. The old man stared down at his bracelet, confused for a moment, as if he was checking to see if he really was Henry Coles.

“Well, this is interesting.” Y/n exaggerated her words as she skipped over to the old man. “This is Henry Coles! Let's just take a look at that.” She took the old man’s wrist, briefly checking it before saying, “Oh, it says, ‘Roy Harper is a liar.’”

“Actually, it says I'm a fall risk,” the man corrected.

“Okay, you're kind of ruining my burn here, Henry,” Y/n whispered. Henry Coles shuffled away and Y/n turned towards Roy, victorious. “I knew it. I knew Henry Coles was a ninety-year old man with type one diabetes and emphysema. Obviously, I didn't know those specifics, but I knew you were lying.”

Roy frowned and crossed his arms. “So Henry Coles wasn't the guy. My bad. There's still somebody on this boat who wants to kill me!”

“You're trying to get away, and it's not gonna happen. We're spending the rest of this trip in your cabin.” Jason found his way back to Y/n and wrapped his arms around her waist. He rested his head on her hair and sighed, feeling more relaxed when he inhaled her scent. “Jason and I will take sleep shifts to make sure someone's always watching you.”

“Thank you. That makes me feel super safe,” Roy said. They started back towards the Boom-Boom Stateroom. Y/n took Jason’s hand. Roy grinned and casually said, “And if you want to smush, I have a sleep mask and noise cancelling headphones.”

Jason sighed and rolled his eyes. “Can't we just lock him up in there? Do we really have to trade off sleep for the next six nights?”

Y/n took a breath and said softly, “I know. I'm sorry.”

Jason bit the inside of his cheek and muttered, “fine. I get it. He's the Red Arrow.” In a tense voice, he said, “You take the first shift.”

“Thank you so much!” Y/n cupped Jason’s cheek. “You're the best. I lo-” Y/n was cut off by the shattering of mirror glass and the banging open of the room closet. A man barrelled into the room and tackled Roy. Y/n tensed up and tugged the man off of Roy. “Hey, GCPD! Let him go!”

The man punched Y/n and Jason practically growled. Jason wrenched the man off of Y/n and threw him to the floor. The man scampered to his feet and ran out of the room. 

Roy stood up and ran an irritated hand through his hair. “Now do you believe me? That guy was trying to kill me!”

“Alright, fine! Someone wants you dead!” Y/n threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “You win.”

“Well, thank god you were there, L/n. I knew you wouldn't let your best friend die.”

“I'm still gonna arrest you.” Y/n grumbled, “I just can't do that if you're dead.”

“Whatever you gotta tell yourself,” Roy chuckled. “Baby steps.” Roy nudged Jason and tsked as if sharing a secret, “it's hard getting her out of her shell.”

Jason sighed and crossed his arms. “Tell me about it. Every time we get emotional, she deflects it. I know it has to do with her childhood, but-”

“Okay, can we focus up here?” Y/n interrupted, shooting both men a nasty glare. “We still don't know what your hitman looks like, so we're gonna have to flush him out. Wait a minute. Where do the toilets on this boat go?”

“You don't want to know.” Roy shook his head.

“The pool?” Y/n asked, aghast.

“Ocean.”

“Oh, that's even worse. That's where my shrimpies live.”

“He'll probably try to hit me at my show this afternoon. At least I'll die doing what I love: getting people horny at sea.” Roy placed a hand over his heart.

“Yeah. Yeah. That's gross,” Jason grumbled. 

“Alright, here's the plan. We're gonna leave you alone on stage and dangle you as bait,” Y/n said.

“Damn! Bait dangling?” Roy clicked his tongue, feeling the burn.

“If we're up on stage with you, it could spook him,” Y/n explained. “We'll blend into the crowd, and we'll take him down before he even gets to you.”

“But if you're gonna blend in, you got to blend in.”

Jason held out an arm to Y/n and she took it, beaming up at him. Both of them were in ugly neon shirts and thick white sneakers. “Shall we?” Jason asked in a posh accent..

“Ladies and gentlemen, widows and widowers,” Roy whispered into the microphone. “Welcome to the all-ages piano lounge adults only show. This is a little song I wrote myself, called Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra.” Y/n snickered before Roy sang, “Cassandra, Cassandra, Cassandra!”

“It's so crowded in here, and the lighting is way too sexy to see anything,” Y/n whispered to Jason.

Just then, Roy started singing, “Right there on the floor… Is the man you're looking for…” Y/n and Jason looked around, confused. “He's right in front of you… A little bit to the left… My left, my left, my left, my left,” Roy corrected the couple and Jason and Y/n shuffled to the correct direction. “Come on this way… He's in a red shirt… No, not the Asian dude… I'm talking about a bright red shirt…” Roy grinned and crooned, “That's the man you're looking for… That's the man you've been looking for!”

“I got him. Follow me,” Jason muttered before losing sigh of the man. “Ah, come on.”

“This is still a love song,” Roy serenaded.

“Where'd he go?” Y/n frowned, looking around.

Roy announced loudly, “Well, that ends my show, all of a sudden. You've been a great crowd. Thank you very much.” Both Y/n and Jason looked up to the stage where Roy was being led away by another man who was holding a knife to Roy’s neck.

Y/n and Jason exchanged a look before running after Roy. They followed him to a narrow hallway behind the stage. “Y/n/n, help me. I don't want to die,” Roy whimpered. “Lian needs me…”

Y/n’s eyes flashed with loyalty and fear. “Okay, just put the knife down,” she instructed the hitman. “There's no murder in the all-ages piano lounge.”

“Screw you, slut,” the hitman spat.

“That’s not a very all-ages thing to say.” Jason’s jaw twitched and he stepped towards the hitman.

The hitman shoved Roy aside and lunged at Jason. Jason easily wrestled the man to the floor and secured the hitman’s hands together with an electrical cord that Y/n threw him.

After Y/n checked up on Jason and ensured he was okay, she called out, “you okay, Roy?”

A door slams from behind him and Y/n’s whirled around. “No. No, no, no, no, no,” she whimpered. She ran to the railing of the ship, whiplashing from the sudden stop. Jason bolted up behind her and placed a steading hand in her back. Roy Harper waved up at the pair from a small lifeboat. “Bye, L/n! Thanks for saving my life!”

“No. Roy! Don't do this!” Y/n cried. “No, not again!”

“Sorry to do this to you, darling,” Roy called through a bullhorn. “I saw an opening, and I had to take it. I can't go to jail. I'm too cool. Also, who will take care of Lian?”

“You'll never get away from me, Harper!” Y/n’s fists clenched around the ship’s railing.

“I can't hear what you're saying.” Roy put a hand up to his ear. “You're really far away. I'll just assume you're finally admitting we're best friends.”

“That is not what I'm saying!” Y/n insisted.

“Thank you. It means a lot to me!” Roy grinned and said, “enjoy the rest of your cruise. Just remember, you got a fine man. Check your pockets!” Jason pulled out a key card from his pocket and Roy announced, “Boom-Boom Stateroom, baby!”

“Thank you, but this isn't over!” Y/n screamed. “I will hunt you to the ends of the Earth!”

“I love you too!” Roy blew her a kiss. “I'm so proud of us for being able to say it. What are you still standing there for? Go smush!”

“Roy! No!”

A couple hours later, Y/n and Jason were laying in bed, tuckered out from the day’s activities. Y/n mumbled into space, “if the toilets drain into the ocean, does that mean a tiny shark could swim up and bite me in the butt?”

“No, not at all,” Jason muttered back.

“Lame.” Y/n rolled her eyes.

“Look.” Jason rolled over on his side to look at Y/n. “I know you're bummed about the Red Arrow so if it's any consolation, we could spend the rest of the cruise doing absolutely nothing.”

“That is so incredibly sweet, but no way,” Y/n smiled softly, gazing over at Jason with soft vulnerability and care in her eyes. “We have a pretty cool activity to do.” She laughed lightly and said, “you'll never guess what starts in three minutes.”

“Ballroom dancing!”

“Oh, so you can guess.”

Three minutes later, Jason held Y/n in his arms and murmured, “thank you for doing this.” He took a breath and admitted, “I love you.”

Y/n stared up at him with wide, scared eyes. “Noice. Smort,” she swallowed roughly. Jason’s eyes flickered downward and his expression revealed a layer of quiet sadness. Y/n took a breath and gathered her courage. “I love you too,” she whispered. Jason stared at her, a soft smile on his lips and his eyes full of unbelievable love and warmth. After a beat, Y/n muttered, “also, I think this is definitely a dance class for widows.” The two glanced around to see an old lady waving suggestively at Jason. Jason groaned loudly and bent down to bury his face in Y/n’s neck, a blushing embarrassment on his face.

[msfcatlover]

I have been thinking so much about Jean-Paul Valley in my Reverse!Robins AU. Specifically, how he’d react to Steph’s return.

Because, listen: here is a man who had his autonomy stripped from him. Had his identity stripped from him. By the cult his father secretly raised him to serve, while letting Jean-Paul think he was having a normal childhood (and he did. That is one of the things I like about JPV as a character; in the original “Azrael: Fallen Angel” & “Knightfall” stories, he had a perfectly normal childhood… aside from the hypnotic brainwashing implanted while he slept.) This guy who was tricked into murdering several people, when he never, ever wanted that.

He gets saved by the Bats. And they help him. They really, genuinely help him, and sure, Duke & Damian are still teenagers (JPV’s like… 20-22 at this point in my mind,) but they’re also his anchors to reality. Damian, who also was raised to be a weapon by someone he should’ve been able to trust. Damian, who has experience with cults & rebuilding your identity after losing everything. Damian, who’s basically JPV’s “Brainwashed Cult Assassins Anonymous” sponsor. Duke, who also had a normal childhood. Duke, who knows Gotham like only a kid who was raised in its heart can. Duke, who agrees that this whole situation is certifiably fucked, but never hesitates to help Jean-Paul potentially recover a lost memory or find a new one, because it’s not just about who Jean-Paul was before the cult of St Dumas got their hands on him, it’s about remembering that he’s a living human being right now.

They take him in. They save him. They help him save himself. Bruce offers to pay for him to go back to college, for fuck’s sake!

They gave him his life back.

Jean-Paul can never, ever repay them. They tell him they don’t need it, but he wants to and he can’t. He feels so selfish to take & take without giving back, but how do you pay someone back for all that?

So his couch is always open to them, whenever they want. He’ll be their ally, their friend, their confessor, their confidant, their homework editor if need be. And when newer batkids join, well, Jean-Paul would’ve done his best anyway, but the fact he’s entrusted with Duke & Damian’s apprentices is just. It’s something else. And it’s hardly a hardship—the kids are a delight. Obnoxious, sure, and messy, and pushy, and constantly interrupting, and sometimes they break his stuff, and always they eat all his food, but Jean-Paul has more civilian friends now, and they tell him that’s just what kids are like.

What matters is that he loves them. He loves them because Duke & Damian love them, and then he loves them for being them.

And then. Stephanie. Dies. (Because Jean-Paul is broken, he’s a sinner, he can never make up for what he’s done, what he is, and he can never have nice things. Because Steph was sunshine & rage & stubbornness, because she joked that “We blondes have to stick together!” Because no one was there for her when it mattered most. This has to be punishment, right? He got too close, and Steph paid the price.) (His therapist says he’s being irrational again, but it doesn’t feel irrational. They say they need to adjust his medications. Jean-Paul knows better than to trust himself, but he can trust in Bruce to make sure the therapist is safe, so Jean-Paul doesn’t fight it. He’s not happy, but he doesn’t fight it. Because if he starts hallucinating again, he knows it won’t just be his father hovering over him, demanding to know why Azrael refused to avenge them. So yeah, sure, adjust the meds if you think it’s needed—he doesn’t miss Steph that badly. Yet.)

And then. Steph. Comes. Back.

She’s not dead. She’s not dead, but she’s different, she’s so very, very different. Damian says she fights like she spent time with the LoA, that same cult that raised Damian which he’s told Jean-Paul so much about over the years. Training like that takes time, but it’s been 6yrs, and she’s back, risen & gifted back to them! And she’s killing, but Jean-Paul’s killed before, and he’s been kidnapped by a cult before, and he thinks he knows how this goes. Death Mask isn’t Azrael, but he thinks it’s close enough.

And. And. And. He can save her. Because he knows what to do now, after nearly a decade in recovery. He can make up for his sins, he can bring her home again, and maybe, finally, he’ll have finally managed to pay them all back! He can give Steph her self back to make up for—(“You didn’t kill Stephanie,” his therapist reminds him, “you never laid a finger on her. Remember? You didn’t hurt her. It’s not your fault.” But it feels like it is, it feels like it, he can’t shake the idea that he did)—and he can give the Bats their sister back to make up for all that they’ve given him over all this time! A life for a life, and yes! This feels right!

He cooks up scenarios, imagines Steph reaching out in a moment of lucidity, or showing up injured on his doorstep guided by muscle memory, or running into her on the street or in a cafe and the look of alarm & recognition in her eyes as she—like he did, still does occasionally—knows that she knows him but can’t remember. He imagines the conversations they could have, all the different variations, and knows that it will take time, but patience is a virtue and Jean-Paul’s gotten rather good at it. He can be her anchor.

He just needs to figure out how to start.

(And meanwhile, Steph’s on the other side of Gotham like, “Why are my ears burning, and why do I feel like I’m staring down a tsunami-level wave of second-hand embarrassment right now?”)

[hanihazeljade]

Three Pasts

The Waynes +Tim had Christmas. And some other welcome and unwelcome guests.

(HHJ: Hi guys! After this one update I might afraid that my next update will be so long after this one, because my professors decide that their happiness is their student's suffering. I am drowning with a bunch of reports to do, so just giving you a heads up!)

Tim knows that he had to go back, after with a bunch of messages pinging his phone and tonight is Christmas Eve. Tim doesn’t want to even celebrate this forsaken holiday, as he doesn’t have any experiences on how to celebrate it. 

But he has no choice as Tam is going to celebrate with her family and Tim doesn’t want to put more burden than he already had. 

So, at noon, he picked himself and said goodbye to Tam and travelled back to the curse house of the Waynes. He quietly enters the house and hopes that nobody could see him tiptoeing around as if he snuck out last night and failed to come home late at night. 

But of course, Cass found him doing stupid shit in his life. She has an expression on her face that could only be translated that she is not amused at whatever Tim pulled. Tim looked at her and awkwardly smiled, “Hey, Cassie.” Tim used his annoying voice, hoping for some reaction out of Cass, but nada.

“You left.” Cass signed and Tim knows he fucked up. Cass was more on using broken English as she was more comfortable using it and she just used signs when she is incredibly high of emotions, A.K.A when she is mad.

Tim just gave her a pout, hoping to soften her, “I know, I left a little bit hastily yesterday. But I was pissed, you know? Why do I get called a whore when they probably have laid more people than I have?” he justified himself, he knows it is a little bit immature but Tim is a petty little shit.

“Made me worried. What if you didn’t come back?” Cass signed a little too fast but Tim still understood it, after all, Cass’ eyes showed so much hurt and desperation. When he left, Tim did not give anyone anything to prove of his life except for those postcards that he kept sending until Tim was caught in the flesh by Cass.

Tim hugged his sister tight, “And not attend your wedding? Not in this life.” And he can feel Cass relaxed a little bit.

“Was really scared. Couldn’t find you. Felt miserable, useless.” Cass stuttered. And Tim just cradled her sister, understanding that his sister doesn’t like being incompetent.

Tim dragged Cass to the nearest couch, “Come on, let's take a nap before tonight.” Tim said as he fell down to the couch with Cass in tow.

Cass squirmed a little until she got a comfy spot. “Dad wants everyone to celebrate Christmas. Be here, okay?” she mumbled as she was slowly giving in to sleep.

“Just for you, Cass.”

+++++

Christmas eve is not that eventful, thank goodness. They just made gingerbread houses— which Tim wants to brag to Tam that he has the best gingerbread house, thank you very much— they ate dinner, with it can be considered a feast and Tim just stick to three foods that he very much missed to eat, Alfred’s carbonara, chicken pot pie and coffee jelly, and then of course, the gift giving. 

He gave everyone a knitter sweater with their symbols, and no Tim did not knit everyone’s sweater, he just made a custom order and the only sweater he hand knit is Cass’. Everyone seems fine with his gift and he starts to open his gifts. Alfred made him a red scarf, Bruce gave him camera lens –which he already has, but it doesn’t hurt having an extra one— Richard gave him a  ticket to Paris Olympics— no, Tim is not interested on going — Jason book about photography –which he doesn’t need, he had a degree— Damian gave him a painting of him, sitting on settee— Tim looks good in the painting, not gonna lie— Cass gave him an obnoxious yellow sleeve dress shirt with black pants — Tim is still laughing— Steph gave him a buttplug but Tim quickly hid it from the eyes of Alfred when he gave Stephanie the finger.

But nevertheless, nothing went awry as Christmas celebration was always done after the clock hit twelve, as the Waynes still needed to do their patrol. And Tim just waved goodbye and helped Alfred clean the mess they made.

And that’s how Christmas Eve went for him.

How does the Christmas Eve look so tame to him because the night after Christmas, Bruce apparently throws a Christmas Party for everyone in the caped community and their closed friends instead of going to the Christmas Gala for Gotham socialites.

And Tim is fucked. He doesn’t want to meet those bastards, he planned on sneaking to hang out with Tam but Tam is also invited together with her family. So, Tim is basically trapped and nowhere to escape and Cass would probably not gonna let him go.

So, here he was, sneaking to the food table to get some wine, because he is in desperate need of alcohol in his body to get through to this bloody Christmas Party that was hosted by Bruce and apparently it was a tradition for the past 5 years. And Tim doesn’t know that, he was gone for seven years!

Tim doesn’t expect anyone to know who the fuck he is. After all, he put on his best red dress, as it was per rule that one must wear a red or green, the Dior 1999 Collection , the red knit dress with mink fur collar and buttons. One of Tim’s favourites and he made sure to go bold or go home. He styled his shoulder-length hair in curls and had two braids that held his hair. And his face, he can be the new Madame Red. Red eyeshadow, red lipstick and red blush. He is the new Red Queen. 

But Tim doesn’t expect to be hugged by a speedster that worms his way to his cold, stone heart. It was Bartholomew Henry Allen II. One of his best friends, that he was kind of sad to leave. If  Tim just decides to be a man and reconnects with them but he chooses the godforsaken company of Bruce and he regrets it.

“TIM! I miss you so much!” Bart said as he continued to hug him so tight and Tim just let the negative year old kid to hug him. He kind of missed the feeling of Bart’s hugs now. 

“Hey, Bart. I miss you too.” Tim softly said as he gently patted Bart’s fluffy hair. 

Bart looks at him and has a pout, and Tim could not do anything but coo at such an adorable face, “Why did you not call me?”

Tim smiled a little, “I kind of have to give up my phone to go off the grid, you know?”

“But you memorised my number, email, and even Wally’s phone number!” Bart tightened his hug, seeing Tim was lying to him.

“I maybe just forgot.” Tim said sadly and Bart finally let it go. He let Tim go and dragged Tim to the sweets on the table, and they started catching up. Bart was finally a hero like his grandfather, and also finished school and has an identity as Wally’s little brother.

“Are you coming back to the cape scene?” Bart said after swallowing a huge marshmallow that was covered in chocolate. And Tim answered in a quick speed.

“Nope! Absolutely not!”

Bart grimaced, “That was a bit quick, don’t you think?”

“I don’t have to think about going back to the phase of my life that made me miserable, Bart. Some things are the best to be forgotten and never look back on.” Tim smiled and Bart finally got the hint that Tim will never be back on taking a mantle ever again.

++++++++

“Tim?”

Tim stopped his strut after hearing the voice that he rather not want to hear again, he looked at the man and straightfaced said, “It’s Timothy. Timothy Jackson Drake. Just in case you misnamed it in your head, Mr. Kent.”

“It’s been so long and you look different.” Clark said, probably hoping for some small talk, but Timothy rather did not talk to this man, he may have healed himself but he also was a petty man.

“You too. You look…” Timothy’s eyes scanned Clark from the top of his head to the bottom of his shoes, degradingly, “...old.” and then Timothy smiled, empathetically(degrading).

Clark chuckled, not sensing Tim’s hatred to be in his vicinity, “Well I am nearing sixty, ageing and all of that.”

“Kind of treating yourself poorly, don’t you?” Tim smiled so sweetly yet his eyes were full of venom, “Wrinkles, spots, dullness… poor you, Clark.” Tim pointed out all of the signs of ageing in Clark and having so much fun seeing a little awkwardness on Clark’s face.

“I am fine with —”

“Oh, I am quite busy as I need to come back to Tam before she throws a tantrum.” Tim cut Clark’s sentence as his patience is already thin enough to be rude and disrespectful to Superman.

Clark seemed like still hadn't gotten the memo and kept on questioning Tim, “Are you and Tam?” Clark asked, seemingly having not touched the internet to find out that Tim and Tam are nothing but friends.

“Haven’t you heard from Vicki Vale yet?”

“A reporter yet so damn ignorant. Shouldn’t you be more informed on who is in the party? It is kind of your thing.”

++++++++

Timothy finally got the time for himself as he escaped to the crowded ballroom where the Christmas party was hosted and Tim finally got a chance to escape by the veranda. He is glad he took a bottle of champagne and a bowl of crackers, as he got the serene scene of Bristol and the nice bite of Gotham’s winter.

Timothy was about to close his eyes as he made his mind to sleep in the cold veranda, when the doors toward it opened, revealing Superboy I, Conner ‘Kon-El’ Kent. A man that he trusts, and the man who throws him out.

Tim decided to end the awkward staring contest when he greeted Conner, “Conner! It has been so long.”

Conner looks where the voice that he hasn't heard for seven years comes from and he doesn’t expect a Timothy Jackson Drake in front of him. Tim changed, the light from the chandeliers gave Tim’s red undertone to shine with blood moon earrings and red pearl necklace. Tim is wearing a red fur dress and has a wool crepe scarf. And Tim also put on some bold red eyeshadow and lipstick on his face.

“Tim, you look stunning.” Conner said without thinking, “But aren’t you a little bit too red?”

Tim looked at his clothes, “It’s Christmas and the only dress that I have in something red like the theme is this, Dior, 1999 Collection. One of my favourites actually. It’s vintage, it’s on trend.” Tim smiled and then gasped, “Do not tell me that you are still not on trend, Conner? That is very shameful.”

“I just don’t like following the flow.”

“And yet you did, to keep the peace. Right?” Tim smiled, remembering the last conversation he had with Conner before going off the grid.

Conner's face was contorted in grimace, guilt on his eyes were finally showing. “I am sorry—”

“I don’t need your apology, Conner. I already forgave you, so, so, so long ago.” Tim said and patted Conner’s back with his gloved hand. “But I don’t forget, I am not as naive as I was once.” and with that Timothy left Conner alone.

[haroldhighballjordan]

The Batfamily and Water Apparatuses

It’s time for another random, nonsensical DC post. Here are my indisputable headcanons regarding the batfamily’s preferred method of hydration while on patrol.

Bruce: Does not drink water. Much to Alfred’s absolute horror, this man goes out on patrol with no water whatsoever. And then he gets back to the Batcave and drinks, like, a single glass of it before passing out.

Barbara: Definitely has something sleek and practical that can attach easily to her utility belt. Like those disposable travel water pouches that hikers use, so she can lighten her load every time she finishes one. Also makes it easy for her to be that Mom Friend TM and share, since she can just rip one off and hand it to someone when they need it. Looking at you, Brucie boy.

Dick: Goes on patrol with the most impractical sports bottle. You know, the ones with the straws? And I’m not talking about the flippy straws that don’t spill when you tip them over, I’m talking about those long plastic straws with the caps on them. This one, to be specific:

It’s extremely obnoxious and everyone gets super annoyed with him because he constantly forgets it on random rooftops while on patrol and insists they have to go back and find it.

Jason: He has been using the same plastic Ice Mountain water bottle for the past several years. Like, he is literally refilling a crumpled plastic water bottle with the hoses on the back of peoples houses and it horrifies absolutely everyone. One night Babs was like, “Jason, please just let me buy you a water bottle,” and he was like 🤨 “I have a water bottle?”

Cass: Shares from Jason’s plastic water bottle. Shares from everyone’s water bottles, in fact. I promise I’m not trying to be lazy with this one; I genuinely think she does this. And if whoever is on patrol with her for some reason forgets their water bottle, she takes it as a personal offense, because they forget their water bottle. Now she’s going to dehydrate, and it’s all your fault.

Tim: The only one smart enough to have something along the lines of a CamelBak hydration bladder built into his suit. However, it’s almost never filled with water and contains something completely counterproductive. Like, it’s probably filled with Hawaiian punch, or something equally as stupid.

Duke: Similar to Barbara in terms of practicality, he has, like, small sports bottles that attach to his belt. The ones that marathon runners use. However, he also forgets to fill them up and clip them to his belt half the time he goes out on patrol. It’s okay though, because he works the day shift. And the small businesses in Gotham are very used to preparing water for The Signal in case he stops by to rehydrate. He’s made good friends with his most popular stops.

Steph: Similar to Dick in obnoxious absurdity, but even less practical. She literally goes on patrol with a purple glitter Starbucks collectible cup. This one, to be specific:

Also leaves it everywhere, but gets it returned to her by random civilians because it has “SPOILER” bedazzled on the front.

Damian: Like Father, like Son - does not bring water on patrol. Years of training under the League of Assassins, Heir to the Demon’s Head, Damian Wayne al Ghul is more than capable of surviving extended periods of time with minimal hydration. His body is in peak survivalist condition and he will not be weighed down by unnecessary items such as water-bottles… (he shares with Dick when no one’s looking).

[spigosaur]

VERY new to the Hatchetfield-verse. NPMD was the first ever Starkid musical I’ve seen so I’m trying to learn about the rest of the series

Uhhh lemme see- Headcanons…

Richie having an Asuna body pillow makes me think he’d quote the SAO abridged series. “Take the worst thing you can think of and multiply that by cancer” is something Peter and Ruth hear a lot

Ruth is actually well liked in the theatre program. The actors appreciate all she does and invite her to cast parties. Only reason she’s never gone is cause she thinks it’s some kind of prank (projecting as a former theatre kid—)

Stephanie would be into fanfiction culture. She just has the vibes/pos

Grace described Judas’ betrayal to Ruth and Stephanie once and they described it as “Toxic Yaoi”. She doesn’t tell them Bible lore anymore—

Heyoh!

I'm also kinda new to the fandom. I've watched tgwdlm and Black Friday a few years ago, but I didn't find out about nmt and never interacted with the fandom before npmd. But either way, welcome to hatchetfield and thanks for sending your headcanons!

I don't know if that's what you're referring to but in the show Richie only mentions his body pillows of Rei and Asuka (from Neon Genesis Evangelion) but I don't think that invalidates your hc at all! That obnoxious little disaster of a boy is constantly making references to the weebiest shit and when people don't understand him he calls them uncultured. (Ruth and Pete understand so many anime references because of him without ever having seen any of the media they're from)

Your Ruth hc makes me sad because it makes me think that she's been pranked in that way before and now she doesn't trust anyone who "pretends" to like her anymore :c

Steph I 100% agree with. She has that certain something, the alt style, she's totally a fandom girl. Although most people, even among her friends, don't know that about her. She probably has a tumblr nobody knows about where she yells about her obsessions but irl she never shows that side of herself until she starts hanging out with the nerdy prudes. Seeing them shamelessly gushing over their interests encourages her to let out her inner nerd too. When she eventually starts sharing her fanfics with the others, they're very supportive.

I don't think Grace would know what "toxic yaoi" means so now I'm imagining her being quite happy that her friends reacted so positively to a bible story just for her to look up what that means and. Yes I see why she wouldn't talk to them about bible lore anymore...

[yellowocaballero]

definitely no pressure or anything and u can ignore this entirely but i would love to hear more abt any of ur ideas for atsv fic (ur multiversal mistake peter parker fic appealed to me greatly) ...... i loved how atsv tied so explicitly into metanarratives by just calling them 'canon events' instead of smth else and the whole movie felt like it was justifying miles as spiderman and that his story is just as much a spiderman story as the others. and i love how you engage with canon in similar ways ? like u engage with the text of canon on a level that i find really interesting frex like i loved ur stephanie fic extra just bc stephanie is a character done so dirty by canon in all these awful misogynist ways that ur fic felt like like such an amazing contradiction.... this ask has kind of gotten away from me, but i hope ur doing well on the whole !

Thank you! All of the Spidey crossover fic ideas I have are tepid, so none are good enough to share. Bad crossovers are easy, good crossovers are so hard. And there's nothing more obnoxious than a bad crossover. MK/Avengers fics, you were awful.

I typed out this whole dissection on how modern Spider-Man writers have completely lost the thread of Peter as an 'everyman', and how he wasn't an 'everyman' because he was relatable in terms of personality, identity, or actions, but because he was relatable in terms of problems, and how once Spider-Man stories started being about how difficult it is to be Spider-Man Masked Hero instead of being about how difficult it is to survive in this world and be a good person when you never know if you're doing the right thing or not, then they stopped being actually engaging as everyman stories. and when you simplify Spider-Man down to 'he's just like you except with a cooler life!' then you miss WHY it's important that Peter's life is marked by tragedy and defined by his sadness, which is the fact that if his life was easy then it would indicate that it was easy to be a good person, and what the story tries to say is that being a good person is the hardest thing in the fucking world But Baby We Do It Anyway, and THAT'S what Spider-Man is about, and -

Then I realized that was fucking dumb and also not what you asked and deleted it. ATSV is peak fanfiction because it engages in conversation with the text, and while it has a lot to say about Spidey stories itself it is not a Spidey story. I think end of the day 'what classic spidey is about' just can't be what Miles is about, because Miles is about his relationship to Peter & Spider-Man. They're mutually exclusive. Miles CAN'T have Peter's story at all, because ATSV is telling a story about telling a story. Superhero stories really can't exist unobserved anymore huh. This is so common - Spidey stories since the 2010 have honestly been about being Spidey stories - that at this rate it is also a Spidey story and so it is valid on the grounds of how ubiqutous this story is. I sound like a dipshit.

So I'm still trying to formulate a good story. Miguel vexes me, I've been trying to lock down a good story idea for him for ages and it just hasn't happened. What I liked about the SM2099 comic was the fact that it was about Miguel, who was dealing with a problem that a lot of adults deal with: having your sense of self and identity disrupted, having your understanding of the world disrupted, and trying to sort out how to build yourself into somebody you can live with. I don't think he ever truly figures that out. So it's hard to write a story asking that question, because man I'll let you know when I figure it out too.

And I'm glad you liked New Wave - that was also heavily in conversation with the text, because the text hated women. Steph is an everyman to me - not because she's remotely similar to any human being in real life, but because she wants what any human being would want. And does the weirdest possible thing to get it.

[boyfridged]

What do you think of the people, mostly those who are irritated with Jason being inserted in everything, who say Steph/Babs/Talia would not care for Jason at all? Or, that Jason doesn’t…hm what’s the appropriate word for this…favor (?) women or isn’t as progressive toward them as fanon makes it out to be? I can’t think of a proper word choice for this but I hope you get what I’m trying to say!

well, they're obviously simply dissatisfied with writing and i cannot blame them for that. however, that dissatisfaction does make some of these takes petty in ways causes them to completely close off to many facets of the story.

briefly on the characters brought up: i suppose out of all of them, jay's existence is the most marginal matter for babs, and yet even in her case it would be bad faith to completely erase his impact on the setting of the world she lives in... that impact is what makes it so hard to "get rid of him" when discussing anything batman-related. and so, for example, claiming that he is not relevant at all in reading of steph's character, when it was an obnoxious reinterpretation of his death that steph's own death was supposed to mirror is not just a misunderstanding, it is simply turning away from any attempts to actually read the text. given that meta and the in-universe circumstances, i also refuse to believe that steph, being steph, would not hold some morbid curiosity about jay-- and while i do not like the way their "friendship" was introduced, i definitely think they could get there. and lastly, claiming that talia, whose rudimentary character thesis is kindness in the world uncaring and struggle for autonomy, would not care for a child that jay was (and in consequence, for him as an adult,) is a take more offensive to her than jason to be honest.

and about jason's attitude toward women and him being a "feminist": i'm opening a can of worms here, but canon says very little on it besides the fact that he does gravitate toward victims. there are instances in which he sympathizes with women more, but i think coming with a conclusion that he is a "protector" is a disturbing idea mostly because it plays into the macho image of him that some writers want to project... and so, ironically, fanon does not make him seem to be progressive at all, but rather strangely patronising and performative in his "allyship" at the same time? i don't know what's going on there but i don't like it. however, i won't pretend that my personal preferred characterisation does not include jay being slightly weird about women, mostly because of that association with victimhood and his habit of inserting himself where he can see that relation. but that's a problem, not an act of progressiveness. still, on the other hand, insisting that he is a "misogynist" based on canon material is a bit laughable -- if we want to go there, at least be fair and include the remaining 99.9% of male characters in dc comics. i promise you, you will find receipt when you look for them. my question is, what's the point?

[moonmoonthecrabking]

(everybody lives) nerdy prudes go see mean girls 2024. (or maybe at home watch party bc pete knows how obnoxious his friends can be). ruth singing along to every song and being very queer during sexy. richie adoring damian but saying "should've had an anime reference". pete picking up on the dropped lines and changes. steph in love with janis. ruth in love with renee's regina. actually, ruth in love with everyone except aaron. max in love with renee's regina. grace *totally* not in love with renee's regina what are you talking about? grace getting really into what's wrong with me (and steph putting her actual arm around her). max the only one who finds aaron samuels hot and worthy of all this drama and completely understanding that while steph and pete explain to him that "no, this is about girl world and the complex interpersonal relationships of women in a patriarchal world-"

[paperbackpieces-makemewhole]

(Got the courage to interact now, hope you're ok with platonic type roleplays and such!)

It was pouring down rain, a kid walked through the place, they was trying to find a place to stay warm and snatch some things from people, stealing was right but that's how the kid lived on its own, it was freezing, the only warmth the kid had gone since their clothes Completely soaked.

Not recognizing the place was a detective office. they opened up a window just a small enough to crawl through, the place was warm, they carefully searched around the place for anything they could steal to eat, the place seemed empty to them so they could steal anything they thought.

(Also can't @ myself for some reason-)

((Yep, a-okay!))

@stephs-on-the-run

Enzo had only left his office to get breakfast from the place down the street. He had been planning to sit in his office and relax for the morning.,

However, when he sees a child trying to crawl out through his window, those plans are put on hold.

He clears his throat almost obnoxiously, trying to get their attention.

[bookshelf-dust]

Let’s talk about the fact that I have yet to read that 7k Steve fic and your most recent Billy one because I know I need to devote my full attention to them to properly capture all my reactions. I feel like I need to apologize for taking so long to read the Steve one!😂😭

Also, another idea for our sleepover with @steph-speaks—we bring snacks based on different colors. Like, we each bring a blue snack (Oreo’s, blueberries, etc), red snack (Doritos, Kit Kats, etc), or whatever colors we pick. I saw it on Instagram, and I think it’s such a cute idea!☺️

oh, that’s okay, honey!!! there’s absolutely no rush and you don’t have to read them at all! i know you’re busy being a badass!! but i do know that if you read them your reactions will make me cry though, so at least i’ve got time to prepare!

that sounds so fun!! i bet we could be really obnoxious about finding snacks that are the same color. this is gonna be one kickass sleepover!! 🫶🏻♥️

[cephalog0d]

Batkid Drabbles - "Cassette"

“This one says...Meerkat Map?” Steph squinted at the cassette tape, angling her head back and forth like that would help the smudged writing make sense.

“That cannot possibly be right.”

“You tell me, Mr. Scribbles.” She threw the tape at Tim, maybe a little harder and more head-directed than strictly necessary. He frowned at it for a solid thirty seconds before venturing, “...Woklaus MX?”

“Wow, can’t even read your own handwriting.”

“This is definitely not mine. Is this even a case tape?”

“It was in the box,” Steph said, shrugging.

“Because nobody ever misfiles things around here,” Tim muttered under his breath. Steph graciously ignored him.

“Hey, Dick, can you read this?” she called, gesturing at the tape. He came and leaned over Tim, who obligingly lifted the cassette. Unlike Tim and Steph, Dick barely glanced at it before his face lit with recognition and he pulled it out of Tim’s hand.

“Oh, hey! This is mine!”

“So what the hell does it say?”

“Workout Mix,” Dick said like it was obvious, flipping it around to face Steph.

“I...guess?” Tim conceded, squinting at the theoretical letters. Steph, meanwhile, shot to her feet and lunged to grab the tape.

“Oh, I have to hear this.”

Dick laughed and let it go easily enough.

“Yeah, I used to make tapes to listen to down here during training and things. Bruce hated it, obviously.”

“You rebel,” Steph said sarcastically as she started setting up the tape deck. Dick shrugged, grin going a little sharper.

“You kids have no idea,” he said ominously, ruffling Tim’s hair and getting half-heartedly swatted at.

“As someone who lived through it, you really, really don’t,” Babs cut in via the computer.

“I’m scared to find out what’s on that tape,” Tim said. Considering Steph was busy swapping the audio outputs from headphones to speakers, they were all about to find out. Probably at full volume, knowing her.

“Why?” Dick asked, all wide-eyed innocence. “I’ve got great taste!”

“You had a mullet,” Babs pointed out flatly.

“Yeah.” Dick didn’t seem to take that as the criticism it was definitely intended as. “Is that retro again yet? Should I bring it back?” He ran a hand back through his admittedly shaggier than usual hair.

“No,” Tim said emphatically at the same time that Steph shouted, “Absolutely yes,” and hit play on the tape, blasting obnoxiously upbeat pop music.

((Cross-posted to AO3, gift fic for @outtoshatter! I also made a mockup cassette with my own deliberately awful writing just for fun and to ask my friends what they thought it said.))

[darthhope999]

OC intro pt five!

Feel free to send me story or headcannon asks! We’re making our way slooooooooowly through all my OCs!

Check out the rest right here

Stephen Taylor

Steph works as a museum tech along with Gryphon. He is quiet and very educated, knowing nearly everything about the items that he handles. He is also very understanding and patient, making him good with kids. Steph has gray-blue eyes and fluffy brown hair, he wears a necklace in the shape of a crescent moon with the words “Semper paratus”, meaning “always prepared” on it. Mason got it for him as a joke because he always tends to forget something and end up being late.

Moodboard

Picrew

Owen

Owen is an orphaned child who lives with Rosie and Alex at the Mist Orphanage. He has no known last name and the orphanage never bothered to find out what it was. Owen never knew his parents or family, but he isn’t all to determined to figure out who they are either. He’s very rebellious and crude, seeming to know every curse word and inappropriate joke in the entire world. But he can also be very caring and protective, as he is with Alex and Rosie. Owen has dark, black eyes and jet black hair, he wears the same black sweatshirt and ripped jeans most of the time.

Layla Adams

Layla is a gastroenterologist working with Will. She is very outgoing and loves partying and bars, something that Will hates, saying she’ll end up dead one day. She is easily bored and very impatient but really good at carrying on conversations… for a very long time. And when it comes to embarrassing her friends and employees, Layla has no shame. She has brown eyes dyes and her hair and nails different obnoxious colors all the time.