#the point is that “this was made for KIDS?!?” YEAH YOU ASSHOLE KIDS ARE SMART

[eosofspades]

going to be an insufferable media bro again but one of my biggest pet peeves when it comes to children's movies and tv shows is "THIS WAS MADE FOR KIDS????!1?1!?" a la prince of egypt, anastasia, coraline, 9, etc, and basically anything else that falls into the realm of "dark" or "scary" stories or "heavy" themes. like i don't know how to tell you this but yeah man little kids are more than capable of understanding mature themes and nuances and they LOVE stories that will actually satisfy the desire for adventure and conflict that their brain craves and stuff that will make them think rather than mindless films crammed with pop culture references and "harmless" content (which in turn renders them not only deeply boring and stupid but prevents them from saying anything). like i get that youre trying to stress the impact of a scene or whatever but can you please do it in a way that doesn't treat kids like theyre stupid and unable to think critically about stories

[batsycline69]

Full

Summary: You find out Bruce keeps closer track of your menstrual cycle than you thought. You also find out why.

Pairing: Bruce Wayne x reader

Words: 4.8k

Content/warnings: description of scars, baby fever, established relationship, thigh riding, strength kink if you squint, mentions of having children/getting pregnant, breeding kink, p in v sex

“Are you kidding me?”

The sounds of wings rustle above head as your voice carries through the Batcave. Your arms are crossed tightly over your chest as you glare at Bruce. On the monitor of the bat computer, over a year’s worth of your menstrual cycle is displayed, carefully cataloged by your husband.

When Bruce came back from patrol, you gave him some time to clean up, hoping to pull him away from work. You’d mentioned seeing the cutest baby while you were out for coffee this morning, to which he replied, “is this because you’re ovulating?” To which you replied, “excuse me?”

Bruce took only a few seconds to pull up his records; little black boxes around the days you’ve had foul moods all courtesy of your luteal phase, little red boxes around your period weeks. He has little ciphers on certain days, and you suspect he’s logged the days you’ve had sex.

His expression hasn’t changed a bit despite your reaction. He’s still just as serious and unreadable as ever.

“We have sex. It’s smart to track.”

“It’s invasive! You could have at least told me you were doing this.”

“Do you keep track?” he asks pointedly.

You scowl at him. “What does that have to do with this?”

“How soon would you know if you missed a period?” He sounds smug without changing his tone; it’s one of his many astounding abilities. You hate that he’s made a good point, even if it doesn’t fully justify his prying. Then again, you were fully aware of Bruce’s endeavors as Batman when you got married. Prying came with the territory.

“I don’t know. A week or two. It’s not always that exact. But it’s not like I wouldn’t notice.” You bristle at the minuscule movement of Bruce’s eyebrow as it quirks up. To think you’d come down here to fuck him. “Point being, I don’t need you to keep track of my body. I’m perfectly capable.”

He stands up from his chair, taking a step towards you. Silence. You hate how well Bruce does silence, hate the way he weaponizes it against you. But you’re not backing down. Not until he expresses some sort of awareness that he went too far.

The look in his eyes tells you not to hold your breath. He still looks just as serious as ever, yet a slight change of the glimmer in his eyes suggests he’s arriving at his point. He steps within arms’ reach. You have a feeling leaving just enough space is part of his plan. He’s upping the anticipation. But he’s going to have to try harder than that.

“If I came in you tonight, you could end up carrying my baby.” His voice rumbles in his chest, eyes unwavering.

Fuck.

You feel your face get hot, still trying to keep your composure. He wants a reaction—manipulative asshole—but you’re not going to give him the satisfaction. He’s not going to change the subject just like that.

“Thanks, Batman, but I know how ovulation works,” you snap, turning over your shoulder. You’re not making any progress, and even if Bruce’s proposal has you feeling that familiar ache inside of you again, you can’t let him win now. You only stop when he catches your arm with his sturdy hand.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asks. You’ve never been out with him while he’s doing his Batman business—that’s his world, not yours—but you imagine this is how he treats his prey when he knows they don’t stand a chance. A cocky air without being showy. He doesn’t need to prove he could take you down in an instant; you already know it’s true.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Back upstairs.”

“I thought you came down here for something,” he replies, voice smooth. He tugs you so you’re at his side. He’s not gentle about it, but the movement is controlled.

“Yeah, well that was before I found out about your little project.”

His hand slides down your arm before running up your shirt, stopping at your waist. You shiver from the cold cave air that brushes your skin. “It’s practical,” Bruce says.

“Practical.” You scoff.

But then again, Alfred does always make your favorite cookies around the time the boxes are shaded in gray. There are also those days when Bruce is a little more willing to follow you when you entice him out of the cave.

Even if you weren’t expecting this turn of events, the more you mull it over, the more it begins to click. Dick’s been out west for months now, leaving Wayne Manor feeling emptier than ever. Bruce has been burying himself in work to make up for the loss, not that he’s admitted that to you. He probably hasn’t even admitted it to himself.

You narrow your eyes a little more at him. “Is this a thing for you or something?”

He smirks. You hate it when he smirks like that. Except you don’t, not really, because he looks so good when hes smug. That’s the worst part. As you stare back at him, unwavering, you curse his stupidly handsome face. A guy that gets beat up every night shouldn’t look that good. It’s just not fair.

“What if it is?” he asks, pompous attitude lingering.

His voice is low, using his ability to have all the control in a conversation all while hardly speaking above a whisper. He knows he has your attention. Knows his words are having an effect on you. Warmth pools back into your core, familiar ache between your legs. You remember why you came down here to begin with. His gaze is bright. Hungry. Fixed on you.

God, are you and Bruce going to have to talk about kids? It’s not like you’ve never noticed the way his eyes soften whenever there’s a baby around. He loves kids. But he doesn’t have a night life conducive to having a child.

But he’s keeping track of your cycle, so I guess how surprised can you be, really? Alfred’s cookies are a nice perk, but he’s three steps ahead of you. He’s thinking about the future like always. And apparently that future has babies.

“Then...that’s a conversation we could have,” you reply, quirking an eyebrow up at him.

“Some other time,” Bruce murmurs, his breath brushing against your lips. In other words, hes already thought about it and has a plan.

He wraps his arm around your waist beneath your shirt, drawing you close. His chest presses up against your crossed arms, unconcerned with your attitude towards him. He isn’t actually smirking, but his eyes give it away, which means he wants them to give it away.

Water rushes from the falls across the cave, dropping down to the pool of water at the bottom. The air is cool and smells like wet rock. Your familiarity of the space hasn’t made it any less dark or cold, but the foreboding nature had dwindled. You grew to associate it with a young boy’s laughter, listening to it mature over time. You think of how many nights you’ve sat up, huddled beneath a blanket, waiting for Bruce to come back home among the stalactites. You think of messy arguments and fights and of family.

The glow of Bruce’s monitor lights up only half his face. He looks tired, though you couldn’t be able to say so without him shutting down the conversation entirely. But the exhaustion he won’t admit to doesn’t change the fact that he’s probably picturing you with his cock buried all the way inside you.

He doesn’t say a word as his head dips to meet your lips softly. His hands, calloused by the years of his mission, hold you like an ever-present reminder of why he does what he does. His touch is reverent, large hands splayed out across your sides.

Despite the hunger in his gaze, he takes his time with you. Lips capturing yours with expert precision, as he approaches all things. It isn’t long before Bruce whisks you off to the bedroom. Expensive, luxurious cotton surrounds you, contrasting with Bruce’s rough hands as they run up the length of your bare skin. His lips trail the length of your neck, hands devouring the surfaces of your curves. It’s not often you manage to capture his attention so completely, but god, do you revel in it when you do.

Like so much about him, Bruce’s undivided attention is intense. He’s told you once you tether him to the light; he’s bound to you because without you, he’d be lost. You’re used the dramatics. As much as you could tease him for that, you never did because he believes it. He thinks, on some level, you’ve saved him just as much as Dick has. You’ve never seen yourself as something so extraordinary, but when Bruce puts aside the masks, you become something else entirely new in your own eyes.

It’s late now, and your body squirms against Bruce. He’s taking his time with you, depriving you both of what you’re after now. His lips pay service to their admiration of you, tasting every inch of your skin. Bruce is firm with his movements. He’s controlled, but gentle. You wanted him up here, and he wants to prove to you he’s here.

“Bruce…” you whine, his kisses peppering over your chest, stomach. He shifts down to the waistband of your sleep shorts, the only thing that remains on your body. Thin cotton is now all that prevents Bruce from full access to you.

He pays you no mind, focused on the task at hand, regardless of whether it’s what you want of him. You asked for this. You asked for him. “Don’t be too eager,” he mutters, voice muffled against you.

Cocky bastard. Don’t be too eager comes out easy when he’s the one drawing things out. You’re sure that’s his plan, too. He wants to see how far he can take this, how long he can make you wait before you’re fully coming undone beneath his fingertips. It’s one of his favorite games.

You think of Bruce’s words in the cave, wondering what the sounds of little laughter would sound like echoing in these vast halls. Wondering how far a baby’s cry would be heard.

Bruce senses your mind beginning to wander. You’re not sure how, but you’ve learned better than to question these sorts of things. He has his ways, has his years of training, has his ever-focused mind. His fingertips dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, brushing over the sensitive skin of your lower belly.

Your hand rakes through his thick dark hair, tangling into the curls. He showered after patrol. His hair is free of its usual product to keep it slicked back. He looks more undone than most in Gotham would be accustomed to, but this is your favorite way to see Bruce. Wild. Less burdened by the masks he wears. He’s not trying to be Bruce Wayne, nor is he trying to be Batman.

He’s in nothing but his sweatpants, the outline of his hard-on clear in the faint moonlight.

“You can’t put a baby inside me from out there,” you say, your voice needy. You already know your half-baked attempt at getting what you want isn’t going to work, but you can try.

You do get a reaction out of him, but it’s far from what you’d hoped. The weight of the bed shifts as Bruce sits up onto his elbow. His steely eyes fall to your lusty expression from beneath his heavy brows. Your eyes are glossed over with the weight of your want. “I’m the one doing the teasing here,” he says sternly, his Batman side showing a little more. But you can tell you’ve definitely struck something.

“I’m not teasing,” you whine.

A possessiveness intensity grows on Bruce’s face. You’ve spoken the magic words, and there’s something feral within him that crawls up to the surface. It’s a side of him you’re perfectly aware exists, but not one you often see first hand. This is Batman; this is the predator that stalks to get what he’s after.

You gasp as you’re pinned down before you even blink. Bruce has your wrists above your head. His hips cage you in, bulge pressing where you want him most. But he doesn’t move. You try to roll your hips, try to give yourself more of what you seek, but you’re stuck beneath Bruce’s weight, his erection pressing up against you with little you can do.

He smirks down at you, and if he hadn’t gotten you so worked up, you’d be able to think about how insufferable he really is. But right now, you’re too wound up, hips just barely grinding against him in search of friction that just isn’t enough.

Bruce’s lips brush up against your neck. Shivers run down your spine. His teeth bite down, not quite hard enough to hurt, but strong enough to show he’s not messing around. Hard enough for your breath to hitch, your hips bucking up to meet him to no avail. You’re not moving unless he wants you to.

“Bruce…” you pout.

“Be patient. I’ll take care of you.” His muttered assurances do little to ease the aching inside you, however. The soft grumble into your ear only makes it worse. The sound of his voice after a long patrol, body fighting sleep he’s been putting off for far too long. But he won’t let that stop him; you’ve called for him, and he’s here in your time of need.

He nibbles on your jaw as his hand slides up, calloused fingertips softly circling your sensitive nipple. You let out a needy whimper, mind dizzy with desire and deprivation. Your fingers curl into the sheets, back arching for more contact.

“We would make a beautiful baby,” he mutters. Your eyes are closed, brows pressed up, but you can hear lingering amusement in his voice. Your body lurches with longing, its biological drive being stroked by Bruce’s words. “I’d fill this manor with our children if it meant getting to see your face in all of them.”

Your husband isn’t one to mince words, but when he wants to pull out the stops, you fall victim to him just as much as anyone else he’s ever charmed. You hate to admit it, but he knows just the right words to turn you to putty.

Bruce’s fingers finally dip beneath the waistband of your shorts, softly trailing down to run over the seam of your pussy.

Your breath hitches. Even the softest brush causes your hips to jerk, and this time, Bruce obliges.

His fingers dip between your folds, collecting your slick to trace agonizingly slow circles around your clit. Your eyes are closed, but you know he’s studying you, cataloging every minor movement of your expression, looking for all the best spots. These are the skills that’s earned him his playboy reputation in Gotham. The people who give rave reviews about fucking Bruce Wayne aren’t lying.

But Bruce so often sees his body as only a tool. A means to fight crime or gain information. A body may be a tool for creating children, but this is more than just that. Bruce uses his skills, longing to make something good of them. Desperate for more than blood on his hands, more than violence and fear.

It’s not long until he has you at the precipice of your climax. One of many, if this encounter is to be like any of your others. When your moans get needier, louder, indicating you’re close to your tipping point, Bruce stops. His fingers pull away, tracing up your stomach, splaying out over the skin. He’s perfectly aware of how badly you need this; that’s exactly why he’s putting it off.

“I told you to be patient,” he warns. He’s not going to rush through this. He plans to take his time with you. He pushes himself up, and from this new angle, you see the bulge in his sweatpants, half-hard cock pressed up enough to see a very clear outline.

Longing pools in the pit of your stomach, eyes skimming the scarred surface of his skin. Scar tissue puckers, each one even lighter than the rest of Bruce’s sun-deprived complexion. Deep bruises scatter across his body, some faint and green, fading away to nothingness, while others are dark; blue and purple, splotchy and angry.

He pulls down the sweatpants. His cock springs out, illuminated beautifully by the moonlight pouring through his window. You watch the muscles on his perfectly sculpted ass move as he tosses the sweatpants to the floor. He looks like a warrior carved out of marble, even in the darkness of his bedroom. The thick muscles tense as he moves.

You spread your legs, eagerly awaiting for him to slot himself inside, but he doesn’t. His thick fingers wrap around his length, grasping tight, slowly stroking himself. A soft grunt comes from the back of his throat, and you sigh just from hearing it. He slips a thigh between your legs, pressing up against you, a breathy groan following after as you begin to follow Bruce’s wordless command.

Your hips grind against the muscles of his thigh, watching as he works himself harder and harder. His free hand comes up, working through the hair that’s fallen in his face. Yet again, he looks like artwork. Muscles clear against his skin from a long night of patrol. Scarred flesh across his rippling torso, across his arms and legs.

You’ve never adjusted seeing Bruce so scarred; each time, you think of how much is at stake when he goes out at night. The scars are a testament to Bruce’s loyalty, but not to you. To his city, whenever she needs him.

She is the woman he’s given his heart to, no matter the ring on your finger. You could bare his child, fill up Wayne Manor with adorable giggles, and he would still turn to her each and every night. As difficult as that is to accept, it’s one of the things that had driven you to Bruce in the first place.

His eyes don’t stray from the sight of you before him, grinding against his leg, smearing your slick over him. Ever observant, but telling nothing. You used to worry when he stared at you like that during sex; the ferocity was unnerving. Were you doing something wrong? Making an awkward face? But you’ve since learned the honor of capturing Bruce’s attention. Such a fleeting thing, so often preoccupied with his mission, so seldom letting dedication give way to pleasure.

But then there are these times when the call of your body outshines his endless duty. When he isn’t thinking of the future, but thinking of right now. Thinking of you. And, apparently, fucking a baby into you.

Bruce coats the tip of his swollen cock with precum as he works himself. He drops, catching himself against the mattress with one hand, still pumping his cock in the other. “Do you want it?” he asks, voice low. Eyes wild. You feel him brush up against your entrance.

You nod, mouth agape in a raunchy display of how badly you want him.

His tip pushes inside and you gasp. He holds himself up on an elbow as he half-thrusts into you. You squirm beneath him trying to satiate the urgent need to be full. His head ducks down into your neck; his breath is hot against your skin as he lets out a sigh. Bruce will never ask for safety, nor will he admit he needs it. But even when he dons the batsuit, there is still some part of him that’s a terrified child, alone in an alley.

You are safety he won’t ask for. Shelter he’s never known to seek. Security he is terrified to lose.

He eases himself in slowly, making sure you feel every vein as he sinks deeper into you.

Your hands land on his back, nails digging into the skin. Breath catches in your throat and your back arches against Bruce.

“Does that feel good?” he asks, already perfectly aware of the answer.

You let out a breathy affirmation, eyes fluttering shut as he hits something blindingly sweet inside of you. All day, you’d been wanting this, aching to feel him. Daydreaming of being split open on his dick. Now you have it, and it’s even better than you were thinking.

He holds himself in you for a minute, and your walls flutter around him. Lips brush over skin, quickened breaths hold space in the silence as you both grasp onto one another until eventually he starts rutting against you, nudging at the already aching spot deep within you.

Bruce’s resolve never crumbles, fucking you with the same level of intention as he does anything else in his life. He keeps his pace steady, his face concentrated. His eyes slip shut, brows pinched together.

“Feels so good,” you whimper against his shoulder.

“I know it does,” Bruce coos, hand gripping the back of your neck. “I want it to feel good when I put my baby in you.”

And god, does that do something to you. His movements feel even more blissful, your biological urges getting stroked just as much as your pussy. Whether this is a wise decision or not remains to be seen, but you’re too fucked out to think straight, and it’s not like your baby fever brain is going to tell you anything contrary.

He holds onto your hips, practically folding you to thrust in deeper. You cry out, pleasure causing something syrupy to build within you yet again.

“Take it slow, darling,” he says. “I want us to cum together. You can wait, can’t you?”

His dirty talk is the one thing that didn’t seem to change once you knew he was Batman, the one thing that hadn’t dissipated from the persona. As usually non-verbal as Bruce was, he loved to dirty talk.

“Not like this…” you reply breathlessly. Not when he’s hitting just the right spot, not when the warmth inside of you feels absolutely molten and you can feel yourself squeezing around him.

Bruce grunts, a characteristic sign of his disapproval. “Do you need a break?” He doesn’t mean to sound patronizing; it just comes naturally to him. Like it’s your fault he fucks you like a man deprived. But before you can call him out on it, he takes a hand away from your hips, lowering himself onto an elbow yet again. “Do you need to cool down?” His teeth graze your earlobe gently, his voice growing just slightly sweeter.

He dips his head down back into your neck, nipping at the skin, a hand trails up your side, cupping a breast in his palm. “I don’t want to rush.”

“Of course not,” you scoff, still working to catch your breath. Your hips jerk towards him again, trying replicate his thrusts somehow, but he doesn’t allow you what you seek. You squeeze around him, trying to persuade him to fuck into you again, but Bruce’s iron will doesn’t give.

“Breathe,” he whispers. His fingers brush up against your pulse point, shivers running down your spine from the gentle gesture. “I’ll let you cum soon. I promise.”

You’ve learned a long time ago that Bruce’s promises only go so far. He promises to show up for the dinner reservations he booked, only for Alfred to tell you he stepped out as soon as you’re ready. He promises for a day without Batman, only for him to sneak down to the cave as soon as he thinks you aren’t paying attention.

For all you know, he means to draw this out until the sun rises. It’s not like it’d be the first time.

He leans in until he’s just a breath away. He nips at your bottom lip, capturing it between his teeth. You hear his deep chuckle as he tugs on the lip, his cock twitching inside of you. Once again, you try to grind down, try to seek more of his length. He frees your lip from its arrest before diving back in. He kisses you, passionate yet soft. Back to that devout touch.

You respond greedily, legs still bent at his hips. Your fingers curl into his hair, holding him against you.

He pulls back. He raises his hand, cupping your jaw in his palm. Eyes fixed on you.

“I love you, you know.”

Bruce doesn’t say it often; he’s admitted so himself. You’ve known for a long time now to expect the unconventional with your husband. Love confessions while he’s buried to the hilt inside of you is the closest the two of you get to normal.

“If you love me, you’d let me cum,” you pout.

He chuckles softly. “I thought you liked it when I’m sweet.” Taunting you again. He’s lucky you do love him otherwise you would never put up with all his bullshit. Coming home bleeding. Leaving you to worry about him while he runs around Gotham. Putting off your orgasm when he knows how badly you need it.

He pulls back, his eyes meeting yours. You feel his heart pounding against your chest. His cock jerks against your walls.

Without warning, he sinks back into you. You gasp, nails digging back into his skin at the sudden movement. His movements are deep and sure, hitting that same spot inside of you. “Oh fuck!” you cry, head thrown back against the pillows. “Fuck, Bruce, just like that.”

“I told you I’d take care of you,” he growls into the shell of your ear. “I wouldn’t leave you so desperate.”

Bruce thrusts into you, pushing deep, hitting the spots he knows will leave you too fucked out to move once he’s finished with you. Warmth pools back in your core as your pleasure builds back up from where Bruce left you. You clutch him against you, demanding your release. And this time, he shows you mercy.

Bruce moans against you. Even for his expert precision, you feel his thrusts getting sloppier, more frantic. He’s close.

You bite down on his shoulder. Bruce’s groans louder.

“Do you want me to come inside you, darling? Do you want me to give you a baby?” His voice is rough, a sign that his composure is cracking.

“Uh-huh…” You nod, gripping onto him like a vice so he doesn’t even consider pulling away from you.

“I will,” he murmurs.

Your sighs and pants join together, both of you wrapped so tightly around the other where you truly do feel like one. Being deprived of your orgasm has you frenzied, chasing after your high. And this time, Bruce follows through.

Your climax hits you like a train. For a few seconds, your ears are ringing, and you stare up at Bruce blankly, too blissed out to see.

He slams into you, hips stuttering. His hand cups your neck, eyes pinched shut. As he tosses his head back, you think of the rareness of this moment. Expression pinched with pleasure, Bruce makes good on his promise, spilling into you. You feel his cock pulsing, softly grinding against you, making sure every drop fills your pussy.

He falls on top of you, cock still buried inside of you. His weight is comforting, if just a little suffocating. But your body thrums with the electricity of your orgasm. Fingertips tingling, sweat beading up on your skin. Your walls throb around him, his seed warm inside in hopes of taking root.

The two of you are silent as you catch your breath, coming down from your bliss. The room is dark, and yet you feel absolutely bathed in light, warm and heavy.

You let out a soft whimper when Bruce finally pulls out, feeling cold and empty in his absence. He rises to his knees and observes his work, eyes sparkling as he watches his cum leak out of you. He swipes his thumb along your clit. You squirm, still sensitive from your peak.

“You’re irresistible, do you know that?” he asks you, still kneeling above you. Cum drips from his tip, sliding down his still-hard shaft.

Had you any energy left to speak, you’d remind him how he’s usually quite able to resist you, but you don’t want to ruin the afterglow of all of that. Not when you can watch Bruce’s scarred belly rising and falling from his exertion. Not after feeling his heart beating in time with yours as he pumps you full of his cum.

You hum contentedly, too spent for words, laying in the afterglow of the sex. The sounds of Bruce moving about the room only partially register in your mind until the bed shifts with his weight again. You jolt slightly, shaken from your stupor as Bruce gently cleans up the cum leaking from you.

“I meant what I said.” Bruce doesn’t look up as he speaks. “We’d have beautiful children.”

A tired smile crawls on your face as you look back at him. “We will,” you reply.

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider giving this a reblog 💛

[steddieas-shegoes]

A little thing based on this post because it wouldn’t leave my brain:

“I just don’t understand why you won’t try to read it.”

Steve had heard Dustin say this exact sentence hundreds of times at this point.

“I mean, do you know how to read?”

Mike was an asshole. Steve loved him because he was part of the group and he’d been through the same things, but he was such a dick.

“Yes, I know how to read. I just don’t.”

Dustin rolled his eyes.

“If you don’t wanna read nerd shit just say so.”

Steve threw his arms up in frustration.

Steve was a nerd at heart. As a child, he would beg the nanny to take him to the library and the science museum that had real dinosaur fossils. There was something about the peace of exiting his reality and finding a new one among fantasy and history that was indescribable, even to this day.

But as he grew into his looks, he grew out of that phase. At least around others.

And with no nanny around to take him places, he settled for just being the popular guy who hung out with his friends after practice and threw parties at his forever empty house on Saturdays.

But secretly, he still found himself enjoying books late into the night. Never school books, or his grades would’ve been good enough for college, but always incredible novels that took him to other worlds with the most impressively brave people.

And then he lived a nightmare. A few times over. With concussions at every turn.

Now, anytime he tried to read, his head started pounding, his vision got blurry, and ears would start ringing. He stopped trying altogether after Starcourt, but he’d never really let go his love of books.

He occasionally let Robin read to him, but she would get distracted by a plot or character and go on a tangent, leaving Steve confused about what the actual story was. He hated being confused.

“Stevie, you got a minute?”

Eddie had been watching from his spot at the end of the table, where he’d been cleaning up the mess of D&D. He usually made the kids do it, but he’d let them off the hook tonight when they beat the monster and escaped his trap.

Steve and Eddie were friends, definitely. Maybe not close ones, but friends.

Steve had a little crush, definitely. Or a big one. Maybe.

So when Eddie shows him attention, he somewhat shamefully receives it like he’s dying of thirst in a desert.

Robin is the only one who’s noticed so far, but if he keeps acting like a dog being called by his master anytime Eddie talks to him, someone else will comment on it.

“Yeah, what’s up?” Steve asked as he made his way to Eddie.

The kids took this time to talk amongst themselves about the game and what they think will happen next week, and Steve couldn’t have been more grateful.

“You don’t have to tell me, but.” Eddie was tapping his fingers nervously against his leg. “Do you not know how to read?”

“Uh. No I do. I mean I graduated high school. I know it’s hard to believe.”

“Not judging if you can’t, man. I mean, I took three senior years. I’m the last person who can judge.”

“Yeah, but you’re smart. You just didn’t like school,” Steve replied with a pat to his shoulder.

Eddie glanced down at the contact, eyebrow raising and then falling back to normal quickly.

“Just seems like you’d have read something by now to get them off your ass.”

And that’s a really good point. Maybe he should’ve just suffered through a migraine so they’d leave him alone about it.

But migraines left him out for days sometimes, and he couldn’t exactly afford that right now.

“I guess it’s just not worth the migraine.”

He hadn’t meant to actually say it. He didn’t want Eddie to feel bad or for him to try to make him feel better about it or ask questions or talk about the concussion thing.

Actually, did he even know about the concussion thing? Things?

“You get migraines when you try to read?” Then realization hit Eddie hard. “Steve. Do you like reading?”

Something about the way Eddie was looking at him, like he was sad for him but not pitying him, made Steve want to cry.

“I used to, yeah.”

“Everyone out! Your parents are gonna have to come get you! No questions, no explanations, go!” Eddie yelled to the room.

Everyone stared blankly at him before they started protesting, Dustin loudest of all.

“Steve’s my ride!”

“Not anymore. Hitch a ride with Lucas.”

“But Lucas’ mom always squeezes my cheeks and tells me she hopes I never lose my baby fat.”

“She speaks for all of us. Get the hell out of here!”

Steve was actually impressed. Maybe a little turned on? God, he was a disaster.

As everyone cleared out of the room, Eddie patted the seat next to him. When Steve sat down, Eddie scooted his chair so close to him, his knees were touching Steve’s.

“Alright, so you’re gonna tell me about what books you like and what books you want to read and we’re gonna get started.”

Steve blinked at him. “Huh?”

“You have a list I’m sure.”

“Yeah, but…”

“Okay, then we better get started.”

“I mean, I’ve tried. I appreciate it, but even focusing on one page makes my eyes burn and my head hurt.”

“Got that. I’m not asking you to read.”

Sometimes Steve was worried the concussions had actually knocked some screws loose. He wasn’t getting it.

“I’m gonna read to you, Stevie.”

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure a lot of them will be movies and I can just watch them.”

“It’s not the same. You know it’s not.”

He was right. Steve didn’t have much patience for movies. And sometimes even those gave him migraines if there were a lot of bright lights and explosions.

“Yeah. But still. You don’t have to do that. You might not even like the books.”

“Ah, this isn’t a completely free service, my liege.”

Steve rolled his eyes. “I don’t have extra money to pay you, dude.”

“Not money. I get to pick a book to read to you when we finish the first book you pick.”

“Is it The Hobbit?”

“It is,” Eddie looked so smug.

“Well, that was my first choice,” Steve stared back, equally as smug.

“So, your house is empty.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming you own this book.”

“I do.”

“And it’s getting late.”

Steve looked out the window at the pitch black skies.

“It’s late.”

“So I could stay and read you to sleep.”

“Won’t I miss some of the book?”

“I’ll stop when you’re asleep.”

Steve’s heart was practically begging him to say yes. Eddie reading to him in his bed? Possibly falling asleep together? Maybe even waking up together? It couldn’t be a better proposition. Well. It could.

“Will you stay even if I fall asleep?”

Eddie smirked. “If that’s what you want, sweetheart.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d called Steve that, but it was the first time it felt like he meant it in a non-teasing way.

“Okay.”

So they both changed into some of Steve’s comfy clothes, got into his bed, and Eddie started reading The Hobbit.

Just as he was during D&D and real life, Eddie was animated, providing different voices for different characters and often giving long pauses to let Steve soak in what the words meant.

Steve didn’t even have to ask him to do that. He just did.

Steve fell asleep somewhere between halfway and the end of chapter two, but Eddie stayed.

And they woke up the next day with Steve’s head resting on Eddie’s chest, Eddie’s arms wrapped around him to keep him as close as possible.

They finished the The Hobbit in a week, and because Eddie was now committed to making sure Steve was well-read, they started moving through his list rapidly, falling for each other in new ways every time Eddie turned a page.

Part 2 (Angst)  / Part 2 (Fluffy) /  Part 2 (Explicit)

[rosemarydisaster]

I made some sort of alignment classification based on whether they're impulsive or if they plan ahead for the Batfam. Feel free to correct me (politely please, I'll cry) or to add your opinion. I'm not trying to be super canon, just based on their characters' vibes.

Bruce Wayne: 100% planner. This man could be a Bene Gesserit, plans within plans, and they always work even if they shouldn't (because DC can't have him be wrong). It's like a choose your own adventure, you follow the plan and each time something new happens that is sure to chase things up he pulls a subsection specifically for it. Senior Justice League Members just don't question him anymore no matter what. "You had a contingency for getting invaded by mind controlling ballerina spiders? Yeah, sure, tell us all about it".

Barbara Gordon: she plans around her impulses. She is self aware enough at this point to know she's a bit of a hot head. It is what it is, she's called Batman an Emo Boy's idea of Therapy enough times to his face to know she just can't help herself with some stuff. So instead of working against it she plans around it. In the end, it was her plan all along. Canary thinks she could just hold her tongue, but considering the vigilantes Oracle manages, her experience in planning for these situations is invaluable.

Dick Grayson: Impulsive, not because he can't make plans or because he isn't smart. Quite the opposite. He just has that ADHD dog in him. He would be guiding the Titans through a mission and they'd be thinking "Woah, everything is going according to his plan", meanwhile inside his head is Bear Grylls saying "Improvise, Adapt, Overcome". It's not so much that he comes up with plans on the spot but he ends up changing it along the way because he thought of something better for that specific situation. He may use B's protocols for a general structure but then trusts his instinct to come up with something better on the spot.

Cassandra Cain: Neither. She's not one to be coming up with elaborate schemes but, as much as she relies on her instinct, she's able to stop before jumping. She doesn't need to plan, she knows what works. She observes and then takes the best course of action. When Bruce goes on and on about the importance of planning she just answers "Skill issue" and leaves.

Jason Todd: impulsive planner. This is a man that makes plans, okay? He's theatre kid coded, he needs to know his little monologues by heart. The thing is, he's also very emotional and has the impulse control of a toddler in front of the cookie jar. He can't help himself, he has to punch the asshole and make the witty comeback or he will explode. The outlaws have been grilled to death on the importance of following the plan but then watch him like ten minutes later throw it out the window. They find it both endearing and annoying.

Stephanie Brown: Queen of Chaos. She can plan. She's good at it too btw, she just doesn't want to if she can avoid it. She works best when she's improvising and it drives Bruce and Tim up the walls. They just hate to see women winning. She's the best one out of all of them at turning a mistake to her advantage in a matter of seconds. It's quite impressive.

Tim Drake: Chaotic planner. Everyone is so sure Tim is a mini Bruce and to a certain extent, if you squint your eyes, then yes. But Young Just Us know the truth: his plans are extremely effective but only in the most chaotic way possible. There's the Batman plan, and there's the Red Robin plan, which is like the first one but faster and with more fire. He also has to be periodically reminded to take into account his own wellbeing when making his little schemes.

Duke Thomas: plans on the go. I don't know how else to explain it but it's like those sequences in the Sherlock movies (the ones with RDJ) where he's watching his surroundings and opponents almost in slow-mo till he puts together a plan. It's similar to Dick from the outside, but if you pay attention you can see the wheels turning in his head as he goes along. He actually stops and thinks (metaphorically, most of the time his thinking is done while he distracts enemies).

Damian Al Gul Wayne: he's a strategist, not a planner. This is an important distinction because whenever Batman or Red Robin are explaining one of their convoluted plans he feels like he's actively losing braincells. He's closer to Cassandra in the way he prefers a more direct solution. He also gets palpitations anytime Jason or Stephanie just start doing things without thinking. If he knew what Dick's thought process was he would have probably developed an anxiety disorder in his time as Dick's robin. He doesn't understand the need for such high detail planning and hates the idea of making it along the way. No, he just needs to come up with the most efficient strategy and that's all.

[ashwhowrites]

Can I request some jealous! Eddie x cheerleader! reader? (Totally inspired to request bc of the Billy fic!) But what if Reader and Eddie had been dating for over a year and Reader is a cheerleader, and Eddie's jealous bc he always find Steve, Billy, Jason, and all those jocks flirting with reader (pretend this is B4 season 4) and once they were at Chrissy's party, Eddie to do deals, but he found the jocks flirting with Reader at a party (reader thinks the jocks are dumb). After some hours, Eddie has had enough, he takes her to his van and they have sex and Reader's like, if you were so jealous you should've told me! (But like, she's not angry, she thinks it's cute that Eddie acts overprotective and all that when he's jealous) ik you just wrote the Billy one, but I can imagine Billy and Eddie being like different kind of jealous boys (if that's a thing!)

Haha I'm glad you got some inspiration. I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting 🫶🏻

If the van is shaking, don't come knocking

Eddie knew that the second he took Y/N off the market, there would be consequences. When Eddie was chasing after her, he wasn't the only one. He was running with every boy in school, all competing to win her heart. He knew she was way out of his league, and he knew if he fucked up, she has many options waiting for her.

But for some reason, she set her eyes on Eddie at the start and they never wandered off. Eddie doesn't understand it, but he isn't gonna question it.

Sadly, the jocks didn't quite stop chasing her after their relationship went official. Eddie felt like he had to beat guys off of her with a stick. Even after a full year of being together, the basketball ball team watched her more than the ball. Eddie almost wanted to join the team just so he could throw the ball at their dicks.

Billy Hargrove, a blonde with blue eyes and a reputation for being amazing in bed. Eddie knows Billy isn't a real competition because Y/N was sweet and hated assholes. Plus he looked nothing like Eddie, and Eddie knows he's Y/N's type. So only a .5 threat to Eddie. But Billy knew how to flirt, and that scared Eddie.

Jason Carver, another blonde and blue eyes, is not a threat to Eddie. Incredibly rich? Yeah, he's got that over Eddie's head. Still an asshole, but less than Billy. A full-point threat to Eddie.

Steve fucking Harrington, has dark hair and dark eyes. Bits of curls were thrown in and moles on his delicate skin. He was rich, smart, stupidly friendly, and one of Y/N's closest friends. And the damn guy was good with kids, which Y/N fawned over. A full ten-point threat to Eddie.

~~~

It was party night at Chrissy's and Eddie didn't want to leave the van. Y/N was wearing dark jeans, an old hoodie of Eddie's, and white sneakers. And Eddie wanted to pounce. The way her perfume lingered on his hoodie made his brain shut off and his dick has full control. He couldn't help but move his hand up her thigh and kiss her neck.

"Let's just stay in here." He whispered, his hot tongue licking up her neck. She whined as she melted into his touch. He always knew how to get her hot and bothered in seconds.

"I wish, but we can't. Chrissy was pissed when we skipped the last party to hook up in the hot tub in the basement." Y/N whined, but not trying too hard to push him off.

"Ugh fine. Stupid cheer squad." Eddie said as he groaned. He pulled himself away and took out his keys.

"Be nice!" Y/N warned. She gave him a stern look but still pecked his lips before they got out of the van.

And just like months to a flame, the boys came running.

"Heya gorgeous, interested in some beer bong?" Billy asked, his shirt unbuttoned as his chest glistened in some type of liquid. Eddie slipped his hand into Y/N's back pocket, a glare sent to the bad boy.

"Maybe in a bit? Eddie and I are going to get a drink!" She said sweetly as she waved. Eddie sometimes hated how sweet she was to everyone.

"I'll let your boyfriend play!" Billy tried again, a smirk on his face when Y/N squealed excitedly.

"Baby! Let's go play. You kick ass at this game all the time." Y/N said, grabbing his hand out of her jeans pocket to hold it and drag him to the table.

Y/N swept the hoodie over her head, she didn't want to ruin it with stains of beer or whatever alcohol was in the cups.

Eddie growled as Billy whistled, his eyes taking in Y/N's tight black long-sleeve. Eddie couldn't help but stare as well, but he's the boyfriend so he's allowed to do that.

"Just go, Hargrove," Eddie said as he rolled his eyes.

"If I win, your girl is my partner for the next round," Billy said, smirking as he threw the ball and it landed perfectly in the red solo cup.

Eddie already planned to win, but now he wasn't leaving until he embarrassed the king of Hawkins.

~~~

"THAT'S MY BOYFRIEND!" Y/N screamed, a little tipsy. She held her arms up proud as Eddie sank the ball in the last remaining cup. Eddie smirked as Billy glared over, his girl wrapped herself around his body in a side cuddle. Eddie stood proud, his hand came down on her ass and he gripped it hard. Billy's eyes watched with anger and jealousy as he chugged the drink.

Y/N put back on Eddie's hoodie and grabbed Eddie's hand.

After the game, they finally made it inside the actual party. And to no surprise, Jason found them.

"Well hello, beautiful. How are you?" He asked, his eyes not looking away from her.

"A little tipsy. Eddie and I just creamed Hargrove at beer pong." Y/N said, she was so friendly and sweet that she didn't notice every time she brought up Eddie, these boys fought back a glare. Almost like she was always reminding them without knowing.

"Good. Someone needed to take him down a few" Jason said, and Y/N laughed. Of course, Jason felt like he was the man for making her laugh. But so what, Eddie made her laugh a hundred times a day.

Jason and Y/N talked for a few minutes, Eddie stood next to her but didn't contribute to the conversation. Just kept his eyes on Jason to make sure he didn't try anything.

"Need to run to the bathroom. Be aware of your surroundings and don't let him flirt into your mouth." Eddie said, pecking her cheek. She nodded and moved to peck his lips.

Eddie knew he had to be fast, the boys watched her like a prey. The second the alpha was gone, they prepared to attack.

~~~

Eddie went as fast as he could, washing his hands in five seconds as he raced back out. Only to not find her in the same place he left her.

It was thirty seconds, how the fuck did she move so fast?

He searched the house and made his way to the kitchen. He smiled as he watched her sit on the counter, her feet dangling as she sipped on water. He panicked and all she was doing was being a good girl and drinking water.

Eddie for the first time since they came, felt like it was just the two of them. But then Steve walked right into the perfect picture.

"Thanks for the water." She said as she chugged it down.

"Of course, someone should be watching over something as delicate as you," Steve said, his fingers reaching up to touch her chin, but Eddie's hand stopped him. He didn't say a word, just growled at Steve and shoved him.

Steve was the one guy he refused to let flirt with her for one second. Steve backed off and pouted as Eddie grabbed Y/N's hand and raced them out the door.

"Eddie? Where are we going?" She asked, her feet trying to keep up with his long strides. But Eddie didn't say a word, he opened the back of his van and crawled in. Even though he looked pissed, he was a gentleman and gently helped her up into the van.

"What's wrong?" She tried again as he slammed shut the doors. Instead of answering, he smashed his lips on hers. He easily pushed her down, her back against the soft carpet. His hands were working up and down her body at a fast pace.

They pulled apart to quickly take off their clothes, both eagerly trying to get naked as fast as they could. Y/N didn't even have time to take off her bra when Eddie was pushing her down again.

He dove between her thighs, hot tongue swirling around her clit as he shoved two fingers into her mouth, she swirled her tongue around them. Getting them soaked in her spit. She let them go with a loud pop, then he took the same fingers and shoved them into her cunt.

She whined as his mouth sucked on her clit and his fingers scissored inside of her. He was fucking her fast, and it made her head spin. She could feel him forcing an orgasm out of her. Like he wanted her to cum in seconds. She moaned, her thighs clenching around his head as her hands dug into his hair. She kept his head in place as she rocked her hips against his tongue and fingers.

But before she could cum, he removed himself. She whined after him, her hands reaching for him.

"One second, pretty girl. Just want you to soak my cock." He smirked, leaning down to peck her lips as he pushed his cock inside of her. She whimpered as his cock stretched her out even further. Her nails dug into his shoulders as he started fucking into her.

Her legs wrapped around his waist as he pounded into her. She was screaming and clawing at everything she could. He was ruthless, almost animal-like. His mouth was on hers, then her neck, chest, and every part of skin he could reach. His hands were above her head as he looked down at her. He watched her face as her body took his cock perfectly. The way her cunt would clench around him, letting him feel the pulsing inside of her. Then her eyes would squeeze shut and her mouth would drop open with screams, moans, and whimpers.

Eddie wanted the van to shake. He wanted everyone to hear her. He wanted everyone to know she was getting fucked good by her boyfriend. He hoped Billy was still playing beer pong, he hoped Jason went outside for air, and he hoped Steve followed them outside. He wished more than anything they could see his van shake and know her tight cunt was getting fucked by him and him only.

His fingers went down to her clit, and that's when she saw stars. She screamed as she covered his cock in her cum. Her wetness making a mess everywhere and probably staining the carpet below them. She could feel Eddie in her stomach, his bulge showing as it moved inside her stomach. She pressed down on it, loving the way Eddie growled.

"Gonna fill this pretty pussy with all my cum. Gonna be dripping with my cum inside of you." He growled into her ear, he panted as he felt his balls tighten. His hot cum filled her as he bit down on her shoulder. She whimpered as her cunt grew sensitive and the extra hit of his teeth created marks on her delicate skin.

He slowly pumped himself dry inside of her, gently removing himself. He prepped her face with kisses and praise. Reaching for a spare towel he kept for these occasions. He gently wiped off her cunt, trying not to dive in for seconds as her cunt pulsed and gushed.

"If you were so jealous, you could've told me." She said with a breathy laugh. She was fucked out, barely felt anything.

Eddie looked up at her. She looked down at him with a fucked out, dazed look. A lazy smile on her face.

"Where's the fun in that?" Eddie winked

Eddie- a full threat to Billy, Jason and Steve

[spidernuggets]

Jason Todd x Reader

That song "Loser Baby" from Hazbin Hotel has been on my mind ever since I watched the video, and I'm like, ooooh, prompt idea ✨️✨️

Basically, Jason and Reader are both members of the Titans, Jason's going through some shit, thinking he's alone to deal with it because the other members never cared about his problems, so Reader is there to sort of comfort him!

WARNINGS: mentions of suicide, drug use, weaponry use

Notes: Based on HBO Titans, timelines are mixed, idk how a molotov cocktail works, just go w it, unrealistic gun use

Another day, another failed mission. Why? Jason took the impulsive decision to dive in, head first, into the first danger he saw, which led them to be ambushed by other criminals. Sure, they got the majority locked up, but now the others are spread around Gotham now trying to get backup.

And like most times, when Jason messes up now and again, the members start pointing fingers while Dick was at GCPD.

"We went through the plan a million times, kid," Hank grunts. "You wait for Dick's signal!"

"Yeah, yeah! I heard you the first time," Jason spits back. He's been hearing this ever since the whole fiasco ended up until now as everyone got back to the tower. "Get off my back, will you, at least I fuckin' tried, asshole."

"And we would've completed the mission successfully if you tried after Dick gave the cue," Kory chimes in. "You need to work on your patience."

"Whatever," Jason mumbles storming back into his room.

Just as he was, you were exiting your own room, located just beside Jason's.

"Hi, Jay, how was the- oh...kay?" Just as you were greeting the young vigilante, he ignored you, slamming his door shut.

You walk into the lobby. Though you were a member of the Titans, you didn't participate often in missions. You design and create weaponry for the other members, especially Dick and Jason, as they don't have any powers. You excused yourself from joining the missions because although you knew how and when to use your mechanics best, your combat and stealth skills aren't as advanced.

You picked up this interest of building and experimenting after a few downfalls earlier in your life before Dick found you and took you in.

You grew up on the not so upper class side of Gotham City, and you were not an intentionally planned kid. Your parents made bad decisions, weren't married, and both were struggling in their own way. But your dad soon realised that it was all too much for him. He couldn't take care of himself, let alone take care of a kid, his kid. Soon enough, he reached his limit and swallowed a few too many pills.

That's when your mom went spiralling into her own depression. She smoked more cigs, snorted more coke, and drank more alcohol. And when you were old enough to comprehend the profanity she spat at you, she figured that you were smart enough to live life on your own. So she kicked you out. Later that night, when you came back, just to double check if your mom was just on a high and didn't mean what she said, she was gone. The only evidence to prove she was there were the smashed bourbon bottles and and cigarette butts scattered across the floor.

You sat yourself on the couch, legs tucked into your chest as you wrapped your arms to secure them in place and waited patiently for your mom to come home.

But she never did.

Some bad people were after you, claiming that your mother had owed them a shit ton of money. When you told them you didn't know where she was, they said that you'd have to continue to pay back her debt. You had nowhere else to go. So every time they'd come knocking on your door, you'd bolt out through the fire escape.

You had a molotov cocktail in your hand, a little something you saw your dad do once when he was in a difficult situation such as yours. This is the first time you've tried to use it before. You're scared that saving the bottle would be a waste of time. What if you threw it and the fire just went out? What if it wouldn't have the effect you'd expect? What if it would hurt you too in the process??

You just prayed. Prayed for some sort of miracle. In your other hand, spray on deodorant that you stole from the grocery store a walk away from your apartment.

There's a recently abandoned one-story house just down the road.

Lure them there, spray the room, blow 'em up.

You repeated the plan to yourself. So many things can go wrong. You couldn't do anything but pray.

Your chest ached when you got to the building. You covered your face as you choked, inhaling the deodorant that you sprayed around the room.

"There they are!" One of the men yelled towards your direction. You waited. Just a couple seconds.

You ran out the back window as they crashed through the door. Looking back, you waited as much as you could, making sire as much of the men entered the house.

Now.

You lit the cloth on fire, using your mom's lighter, one of the things you kept, and threw it through the window. And just like that, the fire caught onto the particles of the deodorant, and as the bottle smashed to the concrete floor, the building as a whole burst into flames, the painful screams of men remaining in the house.

"Oh my god, it worked!" You said to yourself, panting as you continue to run away.

From then on, you experimented with other, easier ways to create the same kind of effect. You used scraps of metal, lead wires from lightbulbs, plus lightbulb shards to create explosives to protect you.

Soon, your knowledge of weaponry expanded. You managed to steal a gun from one of the men that were after you. You liked to know how things worked. And you liked to manipulate how they worked.

You spent your time disassembling your new gun and eventually created a new weapon of your own. You'd pretend to be too scared to use it, bad man grabs it off you, aim it at you, pulls the trigger, and boom. The bullet blows to the other end, towards their face.

Too bad luck wasn't completely on your side for long.

You screeched as you walked past an alley, your hair being grabbed and pulled by a large man. "Think you can get away from me, bitch?" A gruff voice spat.

Tears pricked the corners of your eyes, grasping as your scalp that's burning your skull. You heard the glint of a knife as the sharpness poked at your side.

"Please, please, no, please," you whispered, begging for your life to be spared.

"You better pray for a miracle, cunt," the man said, jabbing the knife into your side, then throwing you against the wall, leaving you to bleed out.

Your vision blurred and came to the conclusion that you were going to die.

That is... if some random stranger found you and decided to bring you back to what you found out to be "Titans Tower." Learning his name to be Richard 'Dick' Grayson understood you had no one to take care of you and that you were the one who caused that explosion. He also found your little gun, and the great detective saw how it's been rearranged.

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar area. You were bandaged up well, but you were still scared. You hissed, trying to sit up. At the same, Dick walks into the room, a trya with soup, a glass of water and a small tablet next to the glass all prepared.

Dick smiled, introducing himself and apologising for bringing you unconscious. He offered you a shelter, but also wanted to know more about you. How you ended up in the situation, who was after you, and how you managed to rearrange the gun.

He then took you under your wing, giving you your own room and even your own materials to create more weapons for yourself. These ranged from melee weapons, explosives, and hand to hand combat weapons.

Dick tried to train you in physical combat, but you admitted that no matter how hard you tried, your fighting skills won't really improve. So you offered to just create new defence weapons for the team and operate missions from the tower as the team went out.

A couple of months later, you met Jason Todd. You'd be lying if you said he wasn't attractive, and his flirtatious attitude didn't help with your attraction towards him.

You also admired how skilled he was in fighting. Fighting a person while blindfolded? Fighting two people while they're all blindfolded? You wished to be just like him. But you were too shy to talk to him.

Jason speaks before thinking, and you were scared that he'd make fun of you for being part of the Titans without knowing basic combat and stealth skills. So you avoided him as much as you could.

But your guard was down as you had your headphones on, sitting on the couch in the lobby, sketching out a design for new throwing blades that could inject a liquid into the body to knock someone out for around half an hour.

"Why do I never see you around?" A curious voice chimes. One of your headphones laid off your ear, so you flinched when you heard someone begind you.

"Uhm, I.. I don't know what you're talking about," you quietly say, not sure how to confidently talk to the attractive boy.

"You're never out on missions or in the training room. Why are you here?" He says, arms leaning on the back of the couch, face dangerously close to yours

You shrugged. "I kind of make the weapons, I guess. I got those Rs of yours to send a shock wave of electricity," you replied, trying to identify yourself.

Jason tilts his head. "So, how come I never see you around training or missions? With weapons like them, I assume you would be useful out there."

You shake your head. "Fighting isn't really my forte. And my aim is never accurate," you explain, bracing yourself for the taunts.

"Huh. Want me to teach ya?" He offers.

Your head shoots towards him. "Uhm. Thanks, but Dick already tried training me. Trust me, I'd just be wasting your time and be a pain in your ass," you say, fidgeting with the pencil in your hand, kooking away from him.

"Nah, you trust me. I can teach you way better than Dickwad can. And if you still think fighting just isn't a thing for you, we can stop."

You stare up at him for a few moments before sighing and agreeing.

Surprisingly, Jason was able to teach you the basics, but that was as far as you could learn. Nonetheless, you were grateful that Jason taught you something that you could learn. You couldn't thank him enough. In return, you designed weaponry specifically suited for his fighting style.

From then on, you and Jason developed a beautiful friendship. Unfortunately, your crush on him only grew more.

But you and Jason were always there for each other. You never ran out of stories and fun talks to chat about. And eventually, little by little, the two of you opened up about your not so different pasts.

So when Jason stormed into his room after coming back from the mission while making absolutely no contact with you, it got you worried.

"Jeez, what happened?" You say as you walk to where the other members stood.

"Jason being Jason as always," Rachel mumbles.

"Uhh, Jason was just being eager. He's been trying to solve this case for weeks," Gar tries to reason out.

"If that little shit just stuck to the plan, his case would've been solved," Hank raises his voice as Dawn tries to calm him down.

"Just be patient with him. He didn't mean it," you try to calm everyone down.

"We can't be patient with him if he himself can't be patient," Donna calls out from the fridge, grabbing a drink.

"Listen, he's been through enough already, cut him some slack," you begin to get pissed off.

"If you're referring to when he got kidnapped, that was his fault too," Rachel says, sitting down on the couch.

"You know what wasn't his fault? Drawing crosses on your mirror, Rach. And that made all of you blame him for the other shit planted in your rooms. Do you know how much that shit hurt him? And none of you didn't even apologise! So, sorry, on behalf of him, that he wanted to show he was still strong enough even after he was kidnapped and dropped from a skyscraper. But have a little decency and time to understand why he acts the way he does," you ranted, not letting anyone reply as you stormed away.

During your times spent with Jason, you didn't miss his ADHD meds lying around, and eventually, he opened up to you about his therapy talks with Leslie, and you're glad it's somewhat helping. You just wushed you would be as much helo to him.

You knocked lightly on the door. "Jay?" You called out to him. You sighed when you were met with no response. You know he didn't tell you to come in, hut you were so worried for your best friend, so you entered his room.

His rock vinyl was spinning, and you took the pin off, making the loud mhsic stop abruptly.

Staring out the window, Jason turns to you, glaring at you.

"C'mon, it's just me, Jay. You can talk to me," you say.

Jason scoffs. "Yeah, sure. Then you'd think of me like the others do," he says, his gaze returnint out the window.

"And how do they think of you, Jason?"

He shrugs. "Like a fucking loser," he croaks.

"That's because you are a loser," you deadpan. Jason's brows furrow in confusion as he looks at you once more. He honestly thought you'd start to go on a long, petty rant about you thinking otherwise.

You sighed, walking over to him, hding his hands and bring him over to his bed, sitting him down.

"I'm not gonna lie to you, Jay. Your life sucks and I don't know if it's going to get better. There's a chance that it's not. You are a loser. You're spontaneous, make dumb decisions that don't always go well. But, you know? It's not entirely your fault. Your childhood sucks, your current family sucks and most of your teammates sucks. And you're just doing your best. You may be a loser, but guess what? I am, too. I can't fight, I can make weapons, but my aim is shit. My dad died, and my drug addict mom left me. I'm always alone i the tower because everyone else is out doing cool, superhero shit. I understand your pain, Jason. That's why we tell each other the shit we've been through. Because that load might be too heavy for only ourselves to carry. But I'm sure as hell it would be light as a feather if we carry both of our problems together," you choose your words carefully, your hands remaining on his, your thumb stroking his scarred skin.

Slowly, you move your hands, shifting them to link your pinky with his while he remains silent. "Jason, I promise you. I'm always going to be here to listen. I'm always going to be here for you. To help you in any way I possibly can."

Jason doesn't verbally reply. What he does, though, is nod and lean his head against your shoulder, tightening his grip around your hands.

[carabalism]

nuisance part one

pairing(s) twd x teen!reader, daryl dixon × teen!reader (platonic)

warning(s) canon-typical violence/gore

note nuisance is back and is being rewritten! if you feel like you’ve read this before ur not going crazy

wattpad link , masterlist , next part

the sounds of leaves crunching beneath the weight of someone's boots startle y/n from her sleep. in a quick, but quiet motion, she unties the skipping rope from around her torso that she used to secure her to the tree she sought refuge in the night prior. peeking her head out behind the tree ever so slightly, y/n was able to notice a man crouching close to the ground, his vision is cast down at the ground. to anyone it would've looked like he was just admiring a cool rock or something, but y/n recognised what he was doing. he was a tracker.

"hey!" y/n called down to the man, who immediately stood up and aimed his crossbow up at her, "you huntin'?"

he didn't respond and continued glaring at her, though he hesitates to keep his crossbow pointed at her. she's a kid, a scrawny looking one at that. it's not like she could do much to harm him.

"you deaf or something?" y/n raised an eyebrow at him, she reached over to her backpack and dug through it for a few seconds. before he could question her, a dead squirrel was flung from the tree and landed on the ground in front of daryl. he crouched down to the ground to pick it up, but kept his crossbow aimed at the girl.

"thanks," he grunts in acknowledgment, securing the squirrel to his back.

"where ya headed?" y/n kicked her legs back and forth as they dangled over the branch she had slept on the previous night.

"ain't ya a nosey bitch," he scoffed, squinting his eyes at her.

"hey, i just gave you free food, asshole!" y/n yells, her words accompanied by an impolite hand gesture, "where you goin'? got a camp?"

when she received no answer from the man, she reached around the tree trunk, unhooking her bow from a knife she had stabbed into the tree to create a makeshift hanger for the bow. she pulled the knife out of the tree and cut her backpack down from a piece of rope she had tied around a higher branch. slinging the bag over one shoulder, she slipped her knife into a sheath by her belt and held up the bow, waving it at daryl, "i know how to hunt. lemme come with."

daryl lowered his crossbow, but his lip twitched in annoyance, "whatever, if a geek shows up i ain't savin' y'er ass."

y/n rolled her eyes, but didn't dignify his words with a response and instead secured her bow and quiver to her back. she swung the skipping rope she had previously tied around herself around the tree and wrapped both ends around her hands and slowly made her way down the tree.

"geeks?" y/n scoffed, a smirk growing on her face, "that what you call 'em?"

daryl glared at the teen, "what'd you call 'em then, smartass."

"biters," y/n shrugged, reaching behind her back to retrieve her bow and an arrow from her quiver, "y'know, 'cause they bite?"

"whatever," daryl began walking, following the same tracks he had been previously, "ya out here alone?"

"yeah." y/n's tone sharpened, "you?"

daryl looked over his shoulder briefly, surprised that someone so young survived on their own, "nah, ma' brother 'n some group."

"really?" y/n questioned, surprise evident in her tone. she spins, looking around with false curiosity, "you seem pretty alone to me."

daryl was starting to lose his patience with the smart mouthed girl, "shut up."

the two tracked in silence, occasionally killing walkers in their way. y/n could tell that the man was not a threat to her, but she kept quiet to avoid antagonising him. the girl did annoy daryl, but he had to admit to himself she had valuable skills that none of the kids at the camp had, but he would keep that to himself. there was a clear difference in abilities between the girl and the other children he knew of. this kid was alone and alive with nothing more than a few faint bruises and scrapes across her skin.

y/n stopped in her tracks, aiming her bow at a squirrel on a tree. she pulled the arrow back to her cheek and when she was confident with her aim, she released the arrow, impaling the squirrel.

"nice shot." daryl grunted, watching her pull the arrow out the tree and then out of the squirrel.

"thanks," y/n smirked at daryl, "you're pretty good with that crossbow."

daryl rolls his eyes. pretty good? he was damn good.

"so what's your name?" y/n asked, following him again.

daryl stayed quiet for a few moments, contemplating whether or not he should tell the tree-dwelling girl his name. he figured it wouldn't hurt, "daryl."

"daryl." y/n repeats his name to herself, "you ain't a rapist or nothin' right?"

"huh?" daryl's head snaps in y/n's direction, startled by the question.

"stranger danger? ever heard of it?" y/n raises an eyebrow at the man, her tone slightly patronising.

"if i was a rapist, 'm sure y'would've figured that out by now."

"not that you asked, but my name's y/n." she rolled her eyes, looking back at the ground to spot any other trails to follow.

"ya don't look a day over ten, how old're you?" daryl asked, the question had been on his mind the entire time she had been following him. he was curious how she had made it so far without anyone.

"i'm twelve actually." y/n states matter-of-factly, her eyes squinting at the back of his head as she corrected him.

"big difference." he scoffed.

"it is a big difference. next year i'll be a teenager." she says, her voice full of pride.

daryl grunts in acknowledgement, but didn't press the subject further. the thought that she may not live to make it to her teens passes through his mind, but he dismissed it quickly. there was no time to think about the future anymore, there was only now. not that daryl spent much time thinking about the future anyways.

the two had gathered a large haul in the time they hunted together, but despite this daryl continued walking and y/n followed.

"this deer better be worth it." daryl grumbled.

y/n heard rustling coming from ahead and shushed daryl. he turned to look at her and she had put her finger to her lip to signal him to be quiet. daryl's jaw clenched in annoyance, but he held his tongue and decided he could give her an earful later. she was telling him to be quiet? yeah right.

they both readied their weapons as quietly as they could and slowly approached the noise ahead, suspecting a walker ahead. daryl walked ahead into a small clearing where a group of men all had weapons held up.

"son of a bitch!" daryl yelled, lowering his weapon and making his way over to the deer, "that's ma' deer!"

y/n kept her bow up, staring at the group of men intensely. daryl clearly knew these men well enough to lower his weapon, but y/n didn't have a clue whether they could be trusted.

"look at it. all gnawed on by this.." daryl stared at the deer in disgust, "filthy, disease-bearing, motherless poxy bastard!" each word he said was accompanied by a kick to the corpse's side.

"calm down, son. that's not helping." one of the men spoke up. y/n stayed quiet, not walking out into the clearing until she knew it was safe to do so. the men were yet to notice her, far too distracted by daryl's outburst to even consider there being another person.

"what'd you know 'bout it, old man?" daryl stepped closer to dale, "why don't ya take that stupid hat and go back to on golden pond?"

"i've been trackin' this deer for miles." daryl complained, pulling his arrows out of the deer, "s'gonna drag it back to camp, cook us up some venison. what'd you think? d'ya think we can cut around this chewed up part right here?"

"i would not risk that," shane responded.

"that's a damn shame," daryl sighed, "i got some squirrel, 'bout a dozen or so, that'll have to do."

y/n noticed the walker's head detached from its body move, no one had killed the brain. she aimed her bow at the walker's head and released the arrow, her shot puncturing it through the skull.

"c'mon people, what the hell?" daryl scoffed, "it's gotta be the brain. don't y'all know nothin'?"

the men were suddenly on guard again, staring at the girl who shot the arrow, "who the hell is that?!"

y/n lowered her bow and raised her hands in the air to show she wasn't a threat.

"some dumb kid, found 'er in a tree." daryl grunted walking away, "merle!"

rick looked over at dale, silently telling him to deal with the girl, whilst him and shane dealt with daryl. dale nodded at rick and waited for rick to leave and follow after daryl.

"what's your name, kid?" dale smiled at the girl, trying his best to not intimidate her.

"what's your's?" y/n squinted her eyes at him.

"i'm dale, the other's you saw were shane, rick, glenn and jim. you seem to know daryl, so no need to tell you his name," he explained, "i've given you a few names now, do i get to know your's?"

"y/n," she nodded, "got a few squirrels, take as much as you 'n your group need 'n i'll be on my way."

"that's quite generous of you, y/n," dale compliments as he watches y/n pull a rope with dead squirrels attached off her shoulder and threw it on the ground towards him.

"call it southern hospitality or whatever," she shrugged, putting her bow on her back. she grabbed her arrow from the walker's skull and tucked it back into her quiver.

"you sure your folks won't want some?" dale tilted his head. he was good with his words, each word chosen on purpose to figure out the girl in front of him.

"when you see my folks, give me a holler, ain't seen 'em in a while," y/n scoffed, eyeing dale as he crouched to the ground to pick up the rope and dead squirrels.

"why don't you stay a bit then? eat with a group of people for a change?" dale smiled kindly, gesturing back to the camp behind him.

y/n looked behind him to see daryl in a chokehold and she raised an amused eyebrow at dale, "seems like y'all got plenty of entertainment, why not."

dale furrowed his eyebrows in confusion and turned back to see the commotion, "it's not always like this.."

"damn shame that is," y/n laughed, walking towards the camp with dale following close behind. shane throws daryl to the ground, releasing him from the chokehold and y/n smirked, amused at the scene unfolding in front of her.

"what i did was not on a whim," rick stared at daryl, "your brother does not work and play well with others."

"what happened?" y/n whispered to dale.

"rick, the one in white, handcuffed daryl's brother to a rooftop.. left him there." dale replied honestly, looking at the ground with shame written across his face.

"i'd be pissed too." y/n sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. she had noticed people stare at her, but not say anything about her presence, seeing as there was a much bigger problem at hand.

"it's not rick's fault, i had the key. i dropped it." t-dog spoke up, y/n could tell by the way he looked and spoke that he felt guilty, ashamed even.

"ya couldn't pick it up?" daryl questioned, squinting at the other man.

"well, i dropped it in a drain."

daryl scoffed and lowered his head, he knelt on the ground for a few seconds before getting, "if it's supposed to make me feel better, it don't."

"well, maybe this will," t-dog paused for a second, "look, i chained the door to the roof, so the geeks couldn't get at him... with a padlock."

"it's gotta count for something." rick spoke to daryl with a calm voice, but y/n knew rick chose the wrong words to say to the pissed off redneck.

daryl rubbed his face in frustration, wiping the tears he felt in his eyes, "t'hell with all y'all! just tell me where he is, so's i can go get him!"

"he'll show you," a woman spoke up, "isn't that right?"

rick processed her words for a few seconds and began nodding, "i'm goin' back."

the woman stepped back into the rv and y/n stared at her in confusion. she seemed upset that the man was going back, but she practically just volunteered him.

daryl walked off, obviously not touched by rick's offer and now that daryl was gone, people in the camp that had noticed y/n turned to her.

"damn, i was just startin' to enjoy myself," y/n muttered to herself, dale's lips cracking a smile of amusement at her words.

[ladykailitha]

Star Child Part 9

Hello!! We find out the name of Eddie’s roadie that spotted the problem at the bar in Part 6. We delve into Steve’s problems a bit. And we meet Steve’s badass lawyer.

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

***

Steve woke up at 6am like he always did. He knew that he wouldn’t be hearing from any of the Corroded Coffin boys until later in the morning but he was anxious to be doing something, anything. So he messaged Lucas that he was going to go for a run and hopped into the shower.

He was pleasantly surprised to see the man dressed for running in shorts and a tank top. Steve nodded appreciatively.

“Just a heads up,” he said, setting his smart watch for the run, “I’ve had a really anxious last couple of days and I tend to run harder to combat that.”

Lucas half shrugged. “I’m game for whatever you’ve got, man. I assure you.”

Steve laughed and started stretching. Lucas did the same and once they were fully stretched, they started off. Steve began slow and ramped up, faster and faster until they had hit a full on sprint.

They arrived back at the house, panting and sweating up a storm.

“Damn,” Lucas huffed, hands on his knees and head hung between his shoulders. “You weren’t kidding about that run. Shit.”

Steve laughed. “I haven’t had someone keep up with me before.”

Lucas stood up and put his hands on his back. “I used to play basketball in high school and college. Until I hurt my knee pretty bad.”

“Made it so you were unable to play?” Steve asked, leading them into the house for water and the AC.

“Actually,” Lucas said, taking the water bottle from Steve, “I fully recovered, but it was the team that had moved on. That’s when I realized it would be the same if I got in the NBA. I’d be traded around like a bad birthday present instead being treated like a person and went fuck that shit.”

Steve nodded and hopped up on the counter. “I used to play sports before I got into the whole singing thing. Originally my dad had me playing three sports to triple my chances of making money off of me. And then realized that he could make more with me as a pop star.”

He opened his bottle of water and took a long drink.

Lucas chugged his all in one gulp before tossing it in the trash. “What sports did you play?”

“Basketball,” Steve said, cocking his head to the side and held out his hand, point to Lucas, “like you. Let’s see...baseball and swimming. Did a couple others like boxing and wrestling in PE, but nothing worth writing home about. But yeah. I made captain of the basketball team and co-captain of the swim. I enjoyed them well enough. But singing, man? That’s it for me. I love it.”

“But you kept it with the sports after you made it big?” Lucas asked.

“Sure,” Steve murmured. “Most hotels have swimming pools and you can always find a place with a couple of hoops for a game or two.” He shrugged his shoulders. “Three fourths of The Kings played on the basketball team in high school, only Jonathan didn’t.”

“My sister was a big fan of The Kings when she was in high school,” Lucas said, leaning against the counter next to Steve and crossing her arms. “Billy was her favorite until she found out he was racist asshole.”

Steve grimaced. “Yeah, that was a PR nightmare, let me tell you.”

“I can’t even begin to imagine,” Lucas agreed. “What are your plans for today?”

“I’m meeting with a top contract lawyer to get my label off my ass,” Steve said, throwing his bottle in the trash can and making it. Lucas raised an impressed eyebrow. “My label is pissed that once this album is done and I go on tour, that’s it. I’m done with them.”

“This the same label that hired security to spy on you?” Lucas asked.

“That’s them,” Steve groused. “My manager made sure the terms were air tight in our favor but they’re trying to wiggle out of it.”

“Bastards.”

Steve shook his head. “You have no idea.”

“What’s the lawyer’s name?” Lucas asked with a tilt of his head.

Steve frowned. “Actually, I don’t recall.” He got up and went to the cork board next to fridge and began scanning for the business card. “Ah ha!” He plucked the card off the board and walked back to Lucas and handed him the card.

“Gillibrand, Farnsworth, and Hayward, Associates at Law,” Steve said. “I’m meeting with Erica Hayward.”

“Yeah...” Lucas said, drawing out the word. “I hope you’re looking for a scorched earth approach to this record label.”

Steve shrugged. “I wouldn’t be opposed. Why? Do you know them or something?”

Lucas winced. “I’d better. Erica Hayward is my little sister.”

*

Steve was relieved when Eddie called from the airport.

“Hey, Eds,” Steve said softly. “Everyone make it out all right?”

“Everything is fine beautiful,” Eddie said. “Chrissy is a certified genius. We actually have two tour buses, one that we keep stored in Evansville in case this one breaks down. So she had the bus haul ass down to Austin and we played a little bit of shell game with Creel’s goons.”

Steve laughed. “That’s fantastic! I was so worried about it, I was about to recommend my security company to you.”

“I thought you were notorious for blowing off your security detail,” Eddie said with a chuckle.

Steve walked out to the swimming pool and sat down on one of the loungers, “Used to. Back when they were spies for my parents and the record label. Got my own company now. They’ve been pretty good so far. Robin wanted someone to watch my back as I drove to LA.”

“And they passed muster, then?” Eddie asked with a fond smile.

“Yeah,” Steve said, laying back on the lounger. “They’re from Indiana, too and not Caifornia but they do have locations all around the country, LA included, of course.”

“Of course,” Eddie said. “But you don’t have to worry on that front, Stevie. My roadies double as security. Trust me when I say no one messes with us when they’re nearby.”

“Okay, Eds,” Steve said. “I hate how Creel tried to come after you guys. You especially.”

“I’ll just sic Mike on him,” Eddie said with laugh. “That bastard is so surly that I’ve seen him stare down a biker gang and win.”

“Yeah?” Steve asked. “He built like a tank or something?”

Eddie laughed again. “No, baby. Mike Wheeler is most definitely not built like a tank.”

Steve sat up in a flash and scrambled to get to his photos on his phone. “Is this him?”

“Why do you have a picture of my roadie on your phone?” Eddie asked, genuinely confused.

“You remember Nancy?” Steve asked. “The ex currently dating my former bandmate Jonanthan Byers.”

“Sure,” Eddie said. “From the Indie Dolls, right?”

Steve hummed in agreement.

“Rumor was,” Eddie continued, “that she didn’t even wait for the bed to get cold before she shacked up with Byers.”

Steve scoffed. “Bitch didn’t even wait for that. She full on cheated on me with Jonathan.”

“Shit.”

“Yeah,” Steve said through gritted teeth. “Mike Wheeler is Nancy Wheeler’s little brother.”

“Fuck.” It was quiet on the line for a moment. “Really?”

“Small world,” Steve said. “He doesn’t like me much, but if he’s your guard dog, I’ll sleep soundly knowing he’s got your back.”

“And I’m glad you’ve got someone watching your back too, sweetheart,” Eddie replied.

Steve looked at his watch and sighed. “I’ve got let you go. I’ve got to get ready for my appointment. Fly safe.”

“Will do, sweet thing,” Eddie said and hung up.

Steve stared at his phone for a moment before he got up and went back in the house.

*

Max was waiting by a black sedan when Steve walked out of his house an hour later. He paused briefly at the bottom step and blinked at the sight. He then shrugged and half jogged to the car.

“Steve,” Max greeted. “We’ll be picking Robin Buckley up and then to your appointment. Lucas gave me the run down of the office and I know where all the exits are.”

Steve nodded and got into the backseat of the car. Max hopped into in the passenger seat. Steve could barely make out the driver.

They got to Robin’s house and she just bounded into the car without missing a beat. She slid into the middle so she could sit next to Steve.

“Now,” Max began once they were both settled, “Steve is my main priority, however I will do whatever it takes to keep you both safe.”

“Roger that!” Robin said with a jaunty salute.

They pulled up in front of a large office building with the names Gillibrand, Farnsworth, and Hayward in neat black letters on the bronze plaque next to the main doors.

Max followed close behind as Robin and Steve walked up to the receptionist’s desk.

“Steve Harrington to see Erica Hayward at 2pm?” Steve said smoothly.

The receptionist typed something on her screen and nodded. “Fifth floor, suite five hundred. Speak to her PA and he’ll let you in.”

“Thank you,” Steve said and tapped the front desk twice.

They walked to the elevator.

Everything about the place screamed opulence and elegance. They exited the elevator and this floor was even more elegant than the ground floor. It was all white marble and brass fittings.

Steve squirmed a little. It reminded him a little much of the home he grew up in. Fancy and faceless.

Robin took his hand and gently pulled him down the hallway to suite 500. She opened the glass door and led the way to the PA’s desk. The office was black marble and mahogany. Steve started tapping his finger against the side of his thigh nervously.

“Two o’clock appointment,” Robin said, “for Steve Harrington.”

The PA nodded. “She’ll be with you in a moment. Her last appointment ran late.”

Steve sat down, but both Robin and Max stood.

“I should have scoped out the place first,” Robin whispered mournfully. “I forgot lawyers like to be intimidating.”

Steve squeezed her hand. “It’s okay, Robs.”

Max cocked her head thoughtfully. “Janice mentioned something about you not being comfortable around opulence and extravagance. I’ve seen her history write-up of you, it’s a little thin on why.”

Robin and Steve shared a glance.

“That’s a story you guys might get if you continue to be awesome,” Robin said. “But it’s way too early for that shit.”

Max frowned. “It really is better to tell your security about all your pitfalls and fears because if you’re afraid of spiders and freak out, our reaction might be a tad elevated for the scenario if you get me.”

Steve made a finger gun and mimicked the sound of gun going off.

“Right in one, pretty boy.”

Robin chewed her bottom lip nervously.

“It’s okay, Robs,” Steve said. “She’s right they need to know.”

Robin threw her hands up in the air. “Fine, I’ll send the file over to Janice.”

Max’s eyes went as wide as saucers. “A file?!”

Steve nodded.  

“Erica’s ready for you,” the PA interrupted.

Steve got up and followed Robin into the office, Max following close behind.

They got into the office and there was the most gorgeous black woman sitting behind a desk that matched the outer office.

She stood up to shake Robin and Steve’s hand before squealing and hugging Max.

“Max!” Erica said. “When is that loggerheaded brother of mine going to put a ring on that finger?”

Max laughed, hugging her back. “The last time he brought it up, I threatened to take out both of his knee caps.”

Erica stepped back and looked at Max appreciatively. “Fair. Speaking of Lucas, why isn’t he here instead of you?”

Max winced. “He was going to.” Erica raised a skeptical eyebrow. “No, really he was. But one of our clients had a break in last night so he was taking care of that until the early hours of the morning. Then he ran with Steve this morning, followed by the debriefing with Janice after about the break in. He barely got to bed an hour before this appointment.”

Steve raised an appreciative eyebrow. 

Erica grimaced. “Ouch. Okay, he’s forgiven this time.” She turned to Steve and Robin. “Please sit. Tell me more about your case.”

Steve sat down and fiddled with the hem of his button down shirt. “This place is very intimidating.”

Erica smiled like a shark. “It’s meant to be.”

Steve shrugged. “If you hadn’t been so highly recommended,” he waved at Max, “and the sister of one of my security detail, I wouldn’t have even walked in. I would have found myself a different lawyer.”

“And you probably would have lost your case,” Erica said returning his shrug.

“Maybe,” Steve said. “But if I don’t feel comfortable with you as a lawyer, how can I trust you to handle my case the way I want it handled?”

Erica frowned appreciatively and nodded. “That’s fair, I suppose. But you have to understand, every single one of the partners at this firm is a black woman that had to claw her way to the top of the food chain. Dismissed, discredited, and disrespected,” she explained, moving to sit down at her desk.

“Patrica Farnsworth is the top attorney in trademarks and copyright law in LA, but because she’s a black woman, she was passed over time and time again for mediocre white men. Ophelia Gillibrand is the top lawyer in town for fair use and transformative works. She even volunteers part of her time to archives for fan fiction. But just like Patrica, overlooked and under paid.”

She sighed. “We are only respected because of how this place looks and is run. But I don’t doubt we’ve lost good clients because of it, too. It’s double-edged sword, but one we have to carry.”

Steve nodded. “You’ve convinced me,” he said with a cheeky smile. “So let me fill you in.”

As Max watched she suddenly knew why they needed to send over a file about Steve’s hangups. Because holy fuck was that some pretty heavy shit he was telling Erica.

Once they were done, Erica rubbed her hands together. “I love cases like these. They’re usually very quick and very brutal. Plus, I think with a couple of days of digging I can get the whole fucking contract thrown out and you can start writing whatever the fuck you want by the end of the week.”

Robin and Steve shared a surprised glance.

“What do you mean?” Robin asked.

“They blackmailed Steve into the contract,” Erica sneered, “holding his past over his head. That’s illegal. And if I’m right, and I usually am, I can get criminal charges brought up against your parents and the label.”

Steve blinked. “Lucas said you would take a scorched earth approach.”

Erica cocked her head smugly. “It’s what I do.”

“Then have at it,” Robin said gleefully. “Carte blanche, money is no object. Have at thee.”

Steve nodded. “Agreed. Take these assholes to school.”

“With pleasure.”

***

Part 10  Part 11  Part 12  Part 13  Part 14 Part 15  Part 16

Tag List:

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[bubblystinkfreak]

what’s your take on the boys personalities? I’ve seen so many of them and I can’t really pin point yours yet!

This is a great question because I never really talked about it before tbh,, hopefully the way I’ll explain it will make sense.

For brick I wanted to mix my three favorite fan interpretations of his personalities into one, The narcissistic asshole who is surprisingly just as smart blossom, the amazing big brother/dad figure, and the goofy lowdown little shit (like in the original). I literally used to fight myself wondering WHICH PERSONALITY DOES HE HAVE,, but then I said fuck it and mixed the bitches.

The best way to describe him is a guy who loves his brothers with all his heart, who works his ass off to provide for them AND A GUY WHOS A MAJOR ASSHOLE. Like the fucker will buy you a present with his damn life savings one minute but the call you a ugly ass wrench and tell you to kill yourself the next. Like idk, I love that kind of personality for him. I imagine that he’s the kinda dude to put his all into the things he loves like his car, his brothers, and later on blossom. Idk I just feel like the lil dude is a perfectionist. I know if you hurt anything that he loves he will kill you, then your family, maybe even the dog if you have one🤷‍♀️. Yeah that’s right, real king shit, he ain’t feared for no reason.

Now let’s move on to Butch.

In my version of him, I literally just made him a crazy ass himbo. Like the man is the sweetest thing when you get to know him but other than that he is an absolute MASS TYRANT,, HE WILL KILL WITH NO MERCY (the only thing he might spare are kids) THATS IT. GOD PRAY YOU ARE NOT THIS MAN’S ENEMY. I like to think that even though he’s actually a really nice guy, he still have urges to hurt/hit things, even when he turns “good”. (Thank mth for that). Idk I just feel like it would make the most sense. But don’t forget, even with those urges he just likes making others around him smile and stuff; he also still really cares about his brothers and puts them above ANYONE else, even buttercup sometimes.

And finally, the last but certainly not least, Boomer.

Now for boomer, I really wanted to give him a different personality than what I usually see with him. In my version I made him a introverted reserved sweetheart who just likes to read books and play games. I just love the thought of the little man doing everything he can to stay out the spotlight to the point he’ll just make a fool of himself. I think I was really inspired to do this because of a character named, Marc, on miraculous.

I feel like he’ll really act like this due to to his anxiety and insecurities. Even though the boys were only joking, the “dumbest of the dumb” stuff used to really get to him when he was young. Plus he’s just a shy dude, and for some reason he think he’s the ugly one out of the brothers… and the dumbest… when butch’s STANKY ASS is right there but you know,, he’s just a insecure teen. Bubbles and brick will help with that later.

Also random bonus: I also love the thought of this dude literally running away from everyone thinking they hate him or something when most people just think he’s super cute and mysterious. Like imagine him talking to bubbles and saying, “omg why are they staring at me like that, did I do something wrong!??” But homie is just pretty and shit. Like oblivious boomer is the best boomer, prove me wrong.

If you want more examples of their personalities then here’s a old comic I made last year that can help, even if it’s short.

[livewireprojects]

Finn and Zero Ref(Lost Prince AU)

AND THEN THERE'S THIS ASSHOLE! He's not that bad to draw if I remove the shoes & mask but jfc his shoes are harder than Shadow's. This fucker's shoes look like he stole an Inkling/Octoling's shoes if you look at 3D models.

I guess it's finally time to explain the ghost & some comments I made in the Pride Month post.

So yeah I gave Infinite a dad, for some reason I got inspired by a fic on A03(I still have a link but the fic has been deleted) were Sonic apparently knew Infinite in the past back when he was Finn & despite Infinite being a war criminal Sonic wanted to help him thanks to past memories/promise. Yeah I've turned this into that thing I did with Sally.

Asides from the fact I named Infinite's dad Finn due to the fic that I got inspiration for him from I also gave Infinite the name Zero because that & sometimes Finn were popular names to give him when he wasn't being Infinite.

I kinda find it interesting to see Infinite redeemed, I wasn't sure at first but some stuff involving Infinite was interesting & I've kinda made Mephile redeemed in the past.(Grant it it's him in a reboot of the world & actually feels guilt for his past actions now that he's lived in a time were he got to have a life)

I dunno why but I gave Infinite movie Robotnik's outfit, I guess it looks fitting.

Everything else is under a keep reading due to all the text.

Link to master post

Finn:

Finn was one of Sonic's friends growing up, Finn use to live down the road from Sonic's adopted parents before Robotnik attacked & burnt Sonic's house down. They eventually met again when Finn started living with the part of the resistance Chuck lived with. By the time they meet again when Sonic is traveling with his siblings Finn was an active member of the resistance, traveling around to help while also hoping to run into Sonic.

Finn was an energetic guy, while he can't keep up with Sonic's speed he loves the thrill of running with him & is fairly fast. After losing his home & moving into a community the resistance was in Finn realized he wanted to help & started doing what he was able to since he was to young to go on missions. Helping out with the younger kids & making sure everyone was ok lead to helping him become a leader figure, when he met Sonic again he stayed by his side & helped him get along with everyone. As he got older Finn helped on missions, traveling to other areas to help the resistances in those areas & tell them what news he could.

He was devastated when Sonic went missing but eventually tried to move on for his & Sonic's sake keeping Sonic's memory alive. He eventually moved to the main land with his son & retired to a life of peace(along with maybe secretly doing some writing) eventually taking up painting. While a strong & smart man he sadly was growing weak in his old age thanks to becoming ill, despite moving on Sonic was always on his mind at times leading to telling his family about Sonic to keep his memory alive. In his dying days he hoped for the best for Zero, hiding some important things for him which was common for people back during the war.

Infinite/Zero:

Zero's life had a lot of ups & downs, mostly downs from losing his mom at a young age to constantly getting in trouble as a kid. The only things that kept him going were his father Finn & his ragtag group of friends that eventually became the Jackal Squad.

Zero lost his father a few days after the ill man fell down the stairs during their final argument about Zero being brought home by the police. Zero was heart broken but Finn never blamed him & was more worried about Zero being on his own. Zero & his friends eventually disappeared only to show up as the Jackal Squad only to later lose them when Shadow fought them after Zero chose to work for Eggman. He eventually went mad from not being strong enough & past mistakes leading to allowing Eggman to use him for the Phantom Ruby.

After the events of Sonic Forces at some point he was found while everyone was rebuilding, he was wondering alone & without the Phantom Ruby. It seems the unknown time he was gone & also getting the Phantom Ruby removed he'd come out of his insanity enough to regret a lot of life choices. Surprisingly Sonic is the one to allow him to redeem himself despite some of his friends(Shadow, Rouge & Knuckles, Vanillia if she was there) knowing fully well Sonic was terrified & traumatized.

Sonic wanted to try & give him a second chance since he could see Zero regretted his actions with a clearer head & something seemed to make Sonic talk the others into letting him redeem himself. Zero is currently being kept an eye on by some of the ex-resistance(from Sonic Forces not Underground) & staying Gadget, who has finally returned from traveling & helping out.

It's a long journey & frustrating on both sides but Zero is still going, trying to prove he's not going to become Infinite again & growing close to Gadget & Sonic. Now if only he could figure out why Sonic thought he was Finn, he can't help but faintly remember his dad telling him about a blue hedgehog. After losing Finn Zero has kept his favorite bandana safe & now wears it over where the Phantom Ruby was.

Weirdly enough originally a couple weeks back(when I posted this originally on DA) I wasn't sure how I wanted to go with Zero, at some point at the time I wanted to make it seem like there was doubt Zero was Infinite but imply he was either a clone or some how part of Infinite was in a clone body.

Zero's memories would allow him to answer some questions but also make him at times question if he's the real Infinite, either way he's willing to be punished for Infinite's crimes as he feels guilt for his other self's actions. In the end I wasn't sure if I wanted nothing to happen so Infinite is gone & Zero is doing better or Infinite shows up, tries to attack but is either defeated by Gadget & Zero or Zero defeats him, they become whole again with Zero in control & continuing his community service while everyone is more positive about him now that he's shown he's not evil.

Yeah everything but Finn is a mess. Funny enough for a little I wasn't sure if I wanted Zero to be Finn's son or grandson before settling on being Finn's son.

[theupsidedownsrealestateagent]

Operation Croissant

Dear Mr. Hauser,

Hi it’s Robin Buckley, you know your favorite student, or well I guess you probably already knew that based on the envelope. I get it’s been awhile since we’ve spoken on account that I graduated four years ago, and I refuse to be the student that can’t let go of high school. I barely tolerated it when I was attending. 

The reason I’m writing to you is that I fulfilled my promise, I actually made three friends from good ol’ Hawkins High (bleh) and you would never guess who they are. Are you sitting down? If not you really really should before you continue reading. Okay back to what I was saying, I made three friends for Operation Croissant. 

Nancy Wheeler, Eddie Munson, and um… Steve Harrington. 

You better not be looking smug Mr. Hauser, why do I feel like you’re definitely smirking right now? So yeah, somehow against all my best efforts Steve Harrington is my soulmate. Strictly platonic soulmate. The four of us (and I got permission to reveal this information I promise) are fellow friends of Dorothy. It’s okay take your time to process that, I sure did. I have a sneaking suspicion that you may have already known about me, and Eddie insists that you must have known about him. Subtle isn’t really his style. 

There was so much stuff about high school and life I was missing, and I never cared about until our lunches. For a long time I thought I was going to live this life alone. I didn’t think that this little group was an option for someone like me, like us. I was wrong, I was so wrong. I’m dating the girl of my dreams, she’s so smart, doesn’t care that I ramble a bunch of nonsense when I’m nervous, she is the most badass, beautiful woman in the world, and I found her here in Hawkins of all places. Then there’s Eddie who I know looks like that but he genuinely is the sweetest dude ever, I really wish he could’ve been there for our chats, the kid just needed anyone to confide in, to tell him he wasn’t a freak, that he wasn’t alone either. He’s smart too, smarter than what those teachers ever gave him credit for. Now for my Stevie, yeah he was an asshole back in school, but I watched him turn into the biggest dork of the twentieth century. We became reluctant parents to seven feral children together. I’m sure you’ve been acquainted with Dustin Henderson and co, for that we are all very sorry, we are working on them. So yeah Steve and I found out we practically share braincells, trauma bonded for life, we’ve both saved each other like at least seventeen different times at this point, but legally I can’t talk about any of those (trust me you don’t even want to know) so yeah Steve Harrington and Robin Buckley, sisters for life. We aren’t even the strangest duo in our group, Eddie and Steve are literally boyfriends and it is the weirdest thing that makes the most amount of sense if you saw how they look at each other. Nancy and I on the other hand are classy about our love (this is a lie, we are probably even more disgusting then the guys. But don’t tell Nancy.) 

Whew that was a long winded paragraph, hope it wasn’t too wordy and got my point across that I love these idiots, and if it wasn’t for you I don’t think I ever would have been comfortable enough with myself to find and trust them. I hope you keep finding those kids who don’t feel like they belong. Most of all I hope you are just as happy and fulfilled as the way you helped me to be. Thanks for everything Mr. Hauser.

Eternally grateful,

Robin Buckley

[theworldvsyoshiko]

At this point, Ortiz is just about ready to trigger the monolith and start the endgame. Just making some preparations first, like getting a Paramedic bot online to prevent another Mila tragedy, and taking the warning it gave me to make sure the base is well-lit to heart.

So, time for a status update.

The base itself really hasn't grown much since the last update. I think the biggest change is to the killbox in the bottom-center, making it fortified against the eastern side and adding some turrets. It's also got a shiny new entrance full of pits and traps to slow enemies down and soften them up.

As for the kids themselves...

Everyone but Edith is wearing recon armor these days, so they've got a bit of a stormtrooper vibe. Edith gets a thrumbofur parka though, so even her civvie ass is decently safe.

Dalila Ortiz

Considering that she's only had seven years to pick things up, Ortiz is remarkably well-rounded these days. Everything she's capable of doing, she can do decently well. She's missing the psycasts that completely revolutionize some fights, but having Beckon, Stun, Flashstorm, Wallraise, Invisibility, and Focus isn't bad at all.

Ortiz isn't as ridiculously modded as Yoshiko, but she's still not somebody you want to fight. Also, Ortiz isn't a self-centered brat, so some of the better implants went to other members of the group. Debby's got an archotech arm.

Ortiz is friends with literally the whole group, although Yoder doesn't consider her a friend back, because he still belongs to an asshole religion for jerks.

Edith Ortiz (née Finch)

Edith's also good at almost everything she can do.

It's a real shame that she isn't good at Medical though, considering she's very often the one person in the group who isn't riddled with bullet holes. Despite how much I complained about her being a slow researcher early on, at this point she qualifies as a 'strong expert' in Intellectual.

Edith is friends with the whole group, even Yoder. One thing I've never mentioned about her: she's related to half the fucking planet. Every single caravan that comes through triggers half a dozen 'btw this person in the caravan is Edith's grand-nephew' popups. I have no idea what's up with that.

Debby Yoder

See, this is why I gave Debby the archotech arm, because she's the group's best crafter and one of the best combatants. In practice she spends 80% of her time crafting. She's responsible for basically all the weapons and armor that the group is using, along with most of the implants. Which made it unfortunate when her left eye got ripped out, but thankfully Eggnog is a good enough crafter to handle making her a new one.

Debby's still married to (Tycho) Yoder and sleeping with Yumi on the side.

Tycho Yoder

Remember when I said Yoder would pick up shooting just fine despite his lack of passion? Yeah. Too Smart + Great Memory is ridiculous. The kid's good at everything he cares to do. He's the main researcher, animal trainer, and medic, the sole artist, and one of the main combatants.

Thanks to Yoder's asshole religion for jerks, he actually isn't very close with most of the group. Edith and Wobbler are the only ones he considers friends, other than his wife. In particular, he very nearly considers Eggnog a rival, because she keeps insulting him.

Janine "Yumi" Nobuka

Yumi, of course, has a Charge Minigun (excellent), which means that about half the bullets in any given fight are hers. She's mostly here for the fighting. She can do construction and she's a solid miner, but neither of those are full-time jobs these days.

Yumi's another case who considers the entire group to be friends.

Olivia Mathews

Not Ortiz's sister, still! Like Yumi, she's just here to fight, and her shortcomings when there isn't something to fight are even more pronounced. She's ridiculously good at the fighting, though, and when something needs killed and I can only spare one person to do so, she's the second choice after Ortiz herself.

Olivia, despite being a hyper-aggressive genetically engineered supersoldier, is pretty friendly. The lack of dudes has prevented her from getting up to much romantically, but she's super close with Eggnog.

William "Wobbler" Brown

Why's she named William? What kind of nickname is 'Wobbler'? I cannot answer these questions. On the face of it, Wobbler isn't good at much, but, she's a Night Owl. So, she gets to keep research going overnight when everyone else is asleep. Accordingly, her closest friend is Debby, the other Night Owl. And, once more, mutual friends with everyone but Yoder.

Clara "Eggnog" Bell

This scruffy little loser. She's the backup crafter, the backup social person, and one of the many backup researchers. Perhaps most important conceptually, she's the actual leader of the group, while Ortiz fills the priest role. Since the group has the Collectivist meme, that mostly means that once every 10 days, she gives Debby a talk to hype her up and make her craft way faster for the next... 9 days. Since she doesn't have anything particular to recommend her for combat, she's the one who gets stuck with low-skill weapons like flamethrowers and EMP launchers. She also has a shocking ability to get the shit beat out of her every single time there's a fight.

Eggnog is really close to most of the group. Overall, she might be the most popular person? Which is pretty impressive, considering the penalty from Ugly. The one exception is, again, Yoder. This time he's more justified though, because while Eggnog loves everyone, she thinks he kinda sucks and isn't afraid to let him know it. I suspect she might be right.

[africanmorning]

This didn't happen very recently, but at some point within the past couple years I finally managed to see the first episode of Avatar: The Last Airbender, and man was that a huge perspective shift for me.

See, I've already seen pieces of ATLA before. When I was a kid, someone gushed to me about how good the show was and showed me a couple random episodes completely out of context. I hated it on sight, for pretty much all the same reasons I hated most other children's media at the time. If you had asked me then, I would have simply said that I thought the show was stupid. But after some time, I realized that no amount of "stupidity" explained the resentment and sheer anger that these shows, including ATLA, created in me at the time. The problem wasn't that the shows were "stupid," the problem was that the shows were fun.

Fun was not something I got to experience a lot of in my childhood. If I had to pick out a single, most defining aspect of it, I'd probably say either "anxiety" or "loneliness." For as long as I can remember, I knew that I had a lot of expectations that I needed to meet, and mistakes were not tolerated. You could say that I was a "high-performing, very well-behaved" child.

So, imagine, then, how I felt watching TV shows where the kids were silly, goofed off, and made bad choices that often resulted in nothing more than a slap on a wrist—all portrayed with a casual air of "These are children! This is what childhood is like!" Can you understand how infuriating that was to someone like me? To be shown, as far as I was concerned, a fake, fanciful lie? A lie that I was sure was even making my life worse, because it must be convincing children and adults that children are irresponsible fools, and if more adults knew that children could be responsible, and smart, and obedient . . . then maybe they would treat me better.

Over time, I grew less judgmental of ATLA and shows like it, but I was still pretty confident that it simply wasn't "for me."

The irony of this is not lost on me. Though I still haven't watched ATLA proper, from what I've heard about the show since, I was probably the exact kind of kid that many of the messages were intended for.

The problem?

Of the episodes I had seen, Zuko either was not in them, or played such a minor or out-of-context role that I learned nothing about him.

So, when I was in my mid-twenties, finally seeing Zuko in episode one as my roommate watched it in our shared living space, I was fascinated.

THAT was the character I had needed. THAT was the character I understood. Someone who had been molded into something unloveable. Someone who had no more power over it than wet clay has over the potter's hands. Someone who, deep down, knew this wasn't the right way to be, the way they wanted to be, but to be anything else would be to become destroyed. That was huge.

Because. Yeah. In retrospect, I was a fucking asshole as a kid, at least to other kids. But looking back, I also know that it was the only way I could be. In my isolation, it was the only thing I knew. And even then I knew that I was fucking up. I just didn't know how to change it. And once I finally got exposed to a wider world, saw that there were other possibilities, I did change. A lot. But it took a long time, and it was hard, because the same changes that would have won the approval of my peers, made me a better part of society, would have also destroyed me at home. The same things that made me unloveable also made me survive. I don't think I can explain the confusion I had for the longest time when interacting with other children. It went something like, "How can you be that way so openly, so happily, when I cannot? What is so different between you and I, that the same things that bring you joy could only ever cause me pain?" Even now, that unloveability still follows me. I once saw someone say that loneliness is self-fulfilling because others can sense the loneliness on you and are repelled by it, and I'm inclined to agree. It's no one else's fault. Of course they would be repelled by someone like me, who either clings so much that it's suffocating, or becomes so afraid of clinging that I become aloof and unreachable.

Anyway. Zuko is relatable, and seeing him has really recontextualized the entire series for me. It's kind of a relief, really. I know he gets a redemption arc, and I don't think a lot of characters I relate to in this way do. I've been holding on to those kinds of messages lately—the ones that tell me that I might have a future. Though, man, I wish I'd had an Uncle Iroh like he did, to hold my hand through everything and help me get to that better place in the end. Maybe things wouldn't be so hard now.

[infinitethree]

Given the nature of the information they're dealing with, the decision was made to drag Vio and Lucid into the mix as well.

Aster is relieved that Daz agreed to do so. He’s even more relieved that because Lucid is involved, they can't meet in the secluded bunker of the Council HQ.

It's a dual-purpose meeting. Firstly and most importantly, they need to share the information they learned about the Showrunner. 

Not just the new stuff– though those bombshells are, of course, the driving force of this. The older information that the Council is aware of will have to be shared, too.

Secondly, though…they need to figure out how to free Innit.

Regardless of Daz’s stance on the matter, leaving Innit trapped isn't an option.

For one, it's unimaginably inhumane. Innit clearly just wants to be able to do basic things. Its willing to be enchanted with loyalty to be able to do something as simple as look where it wants to and read books.

Daz and Innit being forced to stay together like that is a recipe for disaster, too. Innit can't get therapy when it doesn't have a voice, after all.

Plus its already proven willing to punish Daz. If it decided to go nuclear…what could they really do to stop it, bar putting Daz in a coma?

So, yeah. Innit deserves to be free, and Daz deserves to have his head to himself again.

…Even if that’s a bit hypocritical for Aster to want for him.

Their chosen gathering place is the Welcome Wagon. It's meant for discussions, there aren't currently any people in the rooms upstairs, and all four employees are a part of the meeting.

The first matter of business is to give Vio a brief rundown of Daz, the Council, and associated information.

Daz is the one who starts the main topic, and he does so by projecting a drawing of the Showrunner on the screen.

Raine’s style is immediately obvious, at least to Aster.

Deadly serious, Daz says, “This is the Showrunner. What we knew as the Scribe– that entity is someone else entirely. Their name was just…borrowed. Aster and I– we met the Showrunner.”

Aster adds, “Innit, too.” “Are you seriously still– this is fucking important!”

He snaps back, “Can you stop being petty for like five seconds? Its presence there was kind of a big deal! The Showrunner likes your admin half, asshole! We can't ignore that fact!”

Daz glares at him a moment, then turns to the others. “The bigger piece of info is that Time isn't real.”

Day, Vio, and Theo all look incredulous. “They’re very fuckin’ real, don't say shit like that,” Theo tells them. It’s a warning, because to Theo that kind of disrespect is liable to earn the wrath of a god.

Since Theo is not only a mythology buff but has met several gods…if anyone has reason to be twitchy about that sort of thing, it's him.

He is the that started the knock-on-wood trend of assuring Time that any potentially negative thing is said without any negativity, too.

“I'll humor this if you can explain who the fuck we've done– everything for. If you can't, I'm walking out right now,” Day warns. 

It’s clear he’s not kidding about that.

Aster takes a deep breath and says, “The Scribe, apparently. The Showrunner claimed that Time was just a ‘sockpuppet’ to be used as the Scribe needed.”

He grimaces. “Which, I mean…if the two of them are working together, and the Showrunner is the one behind the questions and Observers…”

Theo suddenly straightens up in a way that Aster realizes means he’s actually using his head. When he wants to, Theo can be smart…he just generally doesn’t bother to want that.

“Are you fuckin’ sure the one who was chatting with us was the Showrunner? Not the Observers, but the fuckin’-- the other shit. You two must know what I mean, yeah?”

Daz’s expression is grim. “There’s no doubt in my mind.”

A soft hiss escapes from Theo as he slumps backwards. He scrubs a hand down his face and looks to Day.

“They fuckin’-- first time we heard them, you remember what they said? We fuckin’ pointed out that Time would be pissed, n’--”

Realization visibly washes over Day as he finishes, “And they laughed. That we ‘weren’t supposed to know’, but it was still funny that we’d try to get Time involved.”

“Fuckin’ shit.”

That’s a sentiment that Aster can fully get behind. None of this is remotely fun to learn, and in fact radically alters what they assumed were core facets of their lives.

Lucid looks stricken. “What are we even supposed to do with this info, anyway?”

Rolling his eyes, Daz tells him, “You? Nothing. But given your position and how big of a deal this is, I can’t justify keeping you out of the loop.”

There’s a long beat, and then Daz adds, “And I wasn’t going to bring anyone else to the Council rooms. If it’s not a full secret from you, it’s pointless to shut you out.”

Aster sighs. “Yeahhhh. The Council HQ is kind of special to us.” “You’ve always hated how it looks,” Daz scoffs. Aster rolls his eyes and tells him, “Yeah, well, it’s grown on me. Kind of hard for it not to, with how much time I spend there.”

“This is so fucking weird,” Lucid mumbles.

Raine pats his shoulder and tells him, “You’ll get used to it. They fight constantly.”

“For fucked up reasons, apparently,” Khons reminds them.

“Do I want to–” “It’s literally none of your business,” Daz hisses at the admin.

Lucid shrinks down in his seat, hands raised defensively. “Okay, not asking then!”

Daz scrubs a hand through his hair as he swipes the screen to show the next image. “This is the Showrunner’s domain. I have no fucking idea how useful knowing this will be, but I’m not leaving something like that on the table.”

Aster studies the art piece for a moment. It’s very close to what he remembers– Daz’s memory and Raine’s skill are an excellent combo.

He says, “The seats seemed like they stretched forever. A few were occupied, but only two were clearly taken. The figures had different levels of definition and the Showrunner called them ‘representations of the audience’. I’m…guessing those are Observers.”

With a nod, Daz confirms, “If I had to make a theory…the more clear they are, the more frequently they show up.”

He reaches up and smacks a hand on one of the solid ones in what seemed like the VIP section.

“One of these two is probably the new one who’s been an asshole.”

Aster grimaces. “Speaking of Observers…” “There’s no need to bring up–”

Ignoring the bastard, Aster continues, “Innit needs to be given a body. Keeping it there goes beyond caution and into inhumane. It fucked up, yes, but– shit, didn’t all of us do that, too? Half of Sanctuary are war criminals in some capacity!”

Theo immediately argues, “It’d fuckin’ attack Lee, wouldn’t it?”

Aster shakes his head. “No. It– Theo, I spoke to it. I saw a– a timelapse of its entire life. Before the Observers came, the only people who knew about it were Dream and Daz. Both of them hurt it deeply.”

He gestures at Daz, continuing, “You’re asking a fully sentient and sapient person to be trapped with someone who tortured it for three years. Daz didn’t just ignore it, Theo– he shut it out entirely. He trapped it in a room and left it to rot.”

“It put me in a coma because I refused to kill a child,” Daz snaps. “A child it still hates!”

“I believe it wants freedom more than it wants revenge,” Aster argues.

Day’s arms fold across his chest. “How can we trust that? How can we trust it won’t try anything?”

Aster stares him in the eyes. “It said it would willingly be enchanted with loyalty, as long as I was the one it was bound to.”

The room is quiet.

“Day– you know how bad Daz’s enchantment was. The fact that it wants freedom so badly that it would be the one to suggest that…”

Daz tells them, “It couldn’t feel it. It’s never had any senses beyond sound and sight.”

Hands thrown wide for emphasis, Aster snaps, “And you think that isn’t fucking horrifying?! It wants to choose where to look, Daz! To be able to listen to the music it wants or eat or walk outside!”

Aster huffs at that.

“The reason I got on this topic is because Innit has at least three Observers it considers friends. I saw them as animals with a silvery-lavender swirly color–”

Vio sighs softly. “Same as the portals. No wonder you realized the connection.”

Sneering, Daz corrects, “No, this dipshit didn’t put the pieces together himself.”

Choosing to ignore that particular jab, Aster continues, “And, again; the Showrunner likes Innit. They sure as fuck don’t like Daz, but they– literally gave his admin half headpats. And squished its cheeks.”

He points out, “As cynical as it sounds? We have a person who the omnipotent ruler of time and reality is fond of. That same person is, as most of this room just heard–”

“I fuckin’ heard it too,” Theo tells him. “Fuckin’ Observers love it back. Enough to ask for it to be treated fuckin’ nice.”

Aster nods. “Either we have someone with all that weight behind them on our side, or we make an enemy out of all of them.”

“Innit wants to see Sanctuary burn,” Daz tries to tell them. “It fucking hates every single person here, and none more than Lee.”

Eyes narrowing, Aster argues, “Pretty sure it hates you the most, actually.” “Yeah, well– I’m used to dealing with it.” “It’s proven willing to make you suffer, and forgive me for not wanting to see what a full mental break looks like from you.”

Daz opens his mouth, but Aster cuts him off by turning back to the others. “One way or another, Innit will be freed. I haven’t just been seeing Daz’s past– I’ve been seeing the future, too. And Innit was sure as fuck walking around there!”

The bastard looks alarmed. “What? When the– why the fuck didn’t you say anything?!”

He folds his arms over his chest. “I didn’t exactly want to get into it.” “You know full goddamned well that’s not good enough. Answer the fucking question, Aster.”

Uhg, there’s no way he’ll let this go.

Reluctantly, he admits, “...At some point in the future, Daz and I get together. And, uh– I saw Innit at the wedding. It…handed Daz over to me, actually.”

Daz takes a deep breath, and guessing what he’ll say, Aster rolls his eyes and adds, “And Day handed me over to you, before you get pissy.”

“Excuse me?”

He shrugs helplessly at Day’s bafflement. “I desperately wish I were making it up. The idea of getting together with Daz, of all fucking people–” “Says the one who apparently gets fucked by me.” “Really? Really?”

Like a lightswitch, Daz flips his personality to a much warmer one. Unfortunately, Aster can tell the difference– there’s too much of an edge of malice in the way he smiles as he drapes his arms over his shoulders.

Cooing, Daz asks, “What’s the matter, baby? Worried you’ll think too hard about it here?”

He feels his face heat up despite himself. “First of all– I haven’t actually seen anything, just enough to know that– that happens. Second of all, get your hands off of me before I break your arms.”

Pouting at him, the fucking sociopath he apparently marries says, “But, Star…despite claiming you hate it, you’re getting all flustered.”

Aster gets a split-second flash of a warm giggle from Future-Daz of, “My sweet, snuggly Star!”

He grimaces. “I’m pretty sure I suffer a psychotic break to actually be interested in you.”

And he sees himself yet again, this time sitting in the Swords and Shields training hall. He’s next to Future-Theo, who seems like he’s really looking at Future-Aster for the first time in a long time. “...If it’s not too weird n’ personal, uh…how did you know? That you, y’know– fuckin’ liked him.”

Future-Aster seems to need a while to gather his thoughts. “Once I got closer to him, I started seeing all the things that were…really good. His quirks stopped being annoying and started being charming. I would get excited to come home, not because we did anything all that interesting but just because…I liked spending time with him.”

There’s a soft, fond smile as Future-Aster absently runs a thumb over what looks disturbingly like a bite mark on his shoulder. “I don’t really even remember what it’s like not to love him. He’s…he’s everything to me. The world feels brighter and happier now that I wake up next to him every morning.”

Future-Theo opens his mouth, but is interrupted by Future-Daz coming into the room.

The moment he clocks Aster’s lack of a shirt– which is how he usually works out, it’s annoying to have them get soaked with sweat– Future-Daz turns bright pink and demands, “Star, why are you– where is your shirt?!

Instead of a normal, reasonable answer, Future-Aster just grins and leans back. “I forgot you bit me, sorry.” “You don’t look sorry at all.” “And you don’t like you hate seeing me like this, soooo–”

Future-Daz huffs, hands going to his hips. “You’re– you’re the worst.” “Mm-hmm.” “Awful. Just, just terrible.” “Indeed.” “A jerk who likes making fun of me and making me embarrassed.”

Future-Aster reaches out and tugs his significant other into his lap. “And yet you still like me.”

Despite another, somewhat sullen huff, Future-Daz doesn’t argue that point.

When Aster is back in the present, Daz is staring intently at him. That faux-flirting is gone, though he’s still got his arms over his shoulders. “What did you see?”

Though he could answer this in a dozen ways, he chooses the pettiest he can think of. “You being easily embarrassed and down bad for me.”

Ignoring the way Daz splutters, he shoves his arms off and turns to face the others again. “Anyway. It doesn’t actually matter if you agree or not. Either you cooperate, or I use the wish I’ve earned via seeing Daz’s bullshit and grant it a body myself.”

Lee finally speaks up. “Ignoring all of– that? I think we should do it. It’s fucked up to keep it locked up like that. If I’m the one supposedly in danger, I should be the one to decide if it’s worth it or not. I think it is. Innit doesn’t have to like me– the server is plenty big for both of us.”

Breathing a sigh of relief, Aster smiles fondly at his charge.

Then Lee continues, “And I don’t think it’s fair to make it be enchanted, too. It sets a really nasty precedent and would erode trust in not just Lucid, but everyone who had a part in that. Myself included.”

It’s an extremely good point. Aster nods, brow furrowed. “It– the idea of doing that makes me really uncomfortable.”

He gestures at Theo, who seems unsure. “You’ve got oceans of blood on your hands. I don’t think Innit was right, but I think it felt it was justified.”

“Lee was fuckin’ six,” Theo tells him. “It felt a baby admin, one who could control them because he’s a Dream. Unlike with Day and Lucid, who Daz did not trust–”

“Wait, you didn’t trust us? Then why did you let us undo the loyalty? Especially if you knew about code already,” Lucid interrupts.

Daz, visibly annoyed, snaps, “We could track your coding. If you had done anything we didn’t like, I’d have ruined you.”

Despite the admin’s doubt, Lee nods. “He can do that. He’ll correct my work when I’m not even showing him my console and when I didn’t even think he was paying attention. It’s freaky.”

That little side path resolved, Aster continues, “Daz was way less willing to hurt Lee. Innit, freshly betrayed, deeply traumatized, and desperate to die, went on high alert because it saw Lee as a threat.”

Theo repeats, “He was six!”

Aster responds, “And when Daz was six, he decided to rip out the parts of him that were ‘bad and wrong’ because his brother is a fucking monster. Again, I’m not saying Innit was right! It was a fucked up thing to do! But it was also a trauma response. For trauma that has only festered in the meantime, because unlike Daz, Innit has been alone.”

As much as he hates to do this, he appeals to the one who will hold ultimate authority in this matter.

“You know damn fucking well what isolation does to a person. You’re debating condemning someone to a fate very literally worse than death because you don’t like that they fucked up. Let me remind you that you fucked up pretty damn bad, too. And, again– if all of you refuse, I’ll use the wish on this. Having the memories of its life in my head is bad enough, but knowing I’ve abandoned someone in those conditions…I’d never be able to live with myself.”

He can tell Daz is seething, but for once he doesn’t care.

The bastard is wrong about this. Whatever punishment Innit may have deserved– what its gotten has far outstripped that.

Vio says, “Aster has a point. I know this is a touchy matter, but leaving Innit in there…that’s not acceptable. Not only would we incur the wrath of the Observers and likely the Showrunner, but we have no guarantee that it wouldn’t find another way to escape. We can extend a hand, or risk Innit being free with no reason not to raze the server to the ground.”

Day scrubs a hand down his face, which has a sour expression. “...If we’re doing this, its getting put into therapy with Iatros, too. And I want it nowhere near Summer Hills.”

There’s a sudden, bitter laugh from Daz. “Oh, wow. That’s actually– actually an interesting idea.”

The bastard grips his shoulder with more force than Aster was aware he was capable of.

“It proposes that it could live with Aster. If its so fucking attached to him, and Aster is so goddamned determined to go forward with this stupid fucking plan– surely he can open his shitty little house to that thing, huh?”

He considers where would even work. “I– there’s literally nowhere for it to go. I’m willing to have an extension or something, I guess?”

Daz’s fingers dig into his shoulder. Voice a low, dangerous hiss, he warns, “If you can’t keep it in line, I’ll personally make your life a living hell.”

A shudder goes down his spine. Daz’s wrath is not a small thing, as proven by him killing his ex-mentor in cold blood and destroying him the worst way he could.

“And you should try group counseling with it. Maybe you’ll be less of a fucking sociopath when you learn to at least tolerate a fundamental part of you.”

Flippantly, and forcibly removing Daz’s hand from his shoulder, he adds, “If you want to do the whole song and dance about me getting on your good side? Maybe be less of an insufferable bastard, first. Your trauma is valid but your responses to it sure as fuck aren’t.”

Getting into his space, he growls, “I should be at your throat for the fact that you’ve spent three fucking years conditioning me to hate you. I should be furious you’ve actively abused my trauma to make sure you never had to deal with yours! You’ve refused to actually let yourself heal because you’re a coward, Daz.”

Daz’s eyes thin into slits as he snaps back, “I don’t need your preaching, considering you–” “I’ve fucking told you, I had no idea it would be like this! I also, shockingly, didn’t realize exactly how broken you actually are! I was sure you’d hate me for not taking the offer. It’s a wish that can bend the laws of reality, and I thought you would be mature enough to recognize that even though it sucks to have someone know more than you wanted…that you’d agree it’s worth it.”

He takes a step back and scoffs, “Fuck, at times like these, I can see why the Showrunner hates you. You’re a selfish asshole who only seems to do good things when it’s convenient for you.”

As he turns on his heel and stalks out, he finishes off with, “Lately, I wonder if I was right to take your hand at all.”

Aster knows he’ll regret those words later, in one form or another.

But he’s also sick and tired of Daz kicking him in the dick because he’s pissed that he’s lost control.

At no point did Aster ask for any of this! He hates having to be the one to drag Daz kicking and screaming into a better place! He hates seeing his past and the trauma that have shaped him into the paranoid bastard that he is today!

A lot of the time, he kind of hates seeing the future, too. It only makes their current relationship feel worse, because Aster can see that Daz is capable of being good to him.

Even something as simple as the two of them watching a movie together feels so fucking bittersweet, because it’s clear they do eventually come to love each other.

Yet, right now, Daz hates him. Whatever his actual feelings before, right now they’re at the lowest they’ve ever been.

…There aren’t many times that Aster has seriously considered the benefits of getting drunk. The idea of losing control of himself gives him hives.

But, honestly, the chance of shutting off his own heavily leashed anger and resentment for the night sounds amazing.

This’ll be fun to discuss with his therapist. The poor Puffy has no goddamned idea the shit he’s kept bottled up until now, but it’s beyond time that he start doing so.

[jvstheworld]

The Buffy Re-watch: S2E6 (part 1)

Halloween

I have never gone pumpkin picking. Halloween isn't a big thing for me, not even as a kid.

Vampire videoing Buffy, should have checked your batteries before you left home.

Buffy is resourceful.

Other vampire just slinking off into the night before he can get caught.

Angel on a date. He is trying.

So Cordy is back dating Devon now?

Cordy and Angel do get on, and get better later when the spin-off happens.

Awww, Angel looks like a sad puppy when Buffy leaves.

Halloween is a no go for vampires? That doesn't ring true for every Halloween episode.

Larry is an asshole. His behaviour is him trying to overcompensate for the fact the he is closeted gay guy trying to avoid suspicion from the other people around him. It's the 90s, and let's face it, it wasn't great to be gay in high school. After he comes out he is a lot nicer to people because he doesn't have to keep up the pretence that he is some macho, woman loving dude. It's called character growth and I am here for it.

Xander, there is nothing good about getting beaten up. If your ego is so fragile that you won't let your friend, who is a girl, help you then that's a you problem and you need to fix it. Also, Larry was talking trash about Buffy, she definitely gets to bust in and scare him off.

'She's not his type.' Yeah, Cordelia is so not Angel's type, right now. But put them in a new show, give Angel a personality and Cordelia some character development where she dedicates her life to helping others, and in a few years she will be.

'It would be wrong' let's steal from Giles anyway. Also, how many times does this phrase get repeated by Buffy throughout the show?

Cross referencing is not a hobby, Giles.

Buffy panicking to distract Giles, so she has to resort to telling him that Jenny called him a babe. She probably didn't in front of students. Then you have Willow shaking her head in slight disappointment that Buffy had to do that. I love it though. At least Giles buys it and made him happy.

Cordy really has no idea Angel is a vampire. When does she actually believe them?

Yes, the point of Halloween is the free candy.

Ethan seems so charming. Makes for a good bad guy, yet he only appears in 4 episodes: this one, 'The Dark Age' in two episodes time, 'Band Candy' in season 3, and 'A New Man' in season 4.

Spike being smart by analysing how Buffy fights so he can be better prepared for later. He likes her too. This is just amping up his obsession over her.

Part 2 tomorrow.

[greenxprof]

Green's been invited to a live talkshow with a quite popular interviewer and influencer because of the Lunar Race. Other racers were too, specially ones that got good places, like Ghetsis, Giacomo, Hassel and etc, but for now it's his turn to speak.

He answer questions about the race, his training, his partnership with his garchomp and his relation with other racers. Green's charming, as always, having the audience and the interviewer laugh.

He knows, however, that soon that topic will come up. It's been everywhere, social media and gossip newspaper; how he messed up with his childhood friend. He hopes to use this attention to clear it.

"Speaking of which..." the interviewer asked, "Lately you've been quite on the news, haven't you? Because of this lady you said is annoying!"

The crowd snickered.

"Yeah... I did say some awful things about her." he looks actually upset.

"Aww. That wasn't very charming of you, Professor! Do you really believe all that?"

It's his chance.

"Of course I don't. Blue's been my best friend ever since I was a kid. We've known each other all our lives; if she really were annoying I wouldn't be her friend. If anything, I think I'm much more annoying than she'd ever be."

The interviewer leaned forward, placing her chin on her hand, "Then why did you say those things? Was it a little friendly bicker?"

"I guess?" he looks away. He's not the type to open up at all, specially in live camera, but... but he can't simply let Blue keep going through that. "Actually... No. I think I just... Um, how can I say it?"

Green's always so eloquent. Yet, he's visibly stuttering now. "Oh, did she break your heart and you wanted revenge?!"

"No! I mean... It's not like that, but maybe you're not so wrong. Have you never been worried... scared of being rejected?" the crowd emits a loud oh! as people start whispering among themselves. "Blue's an amazing person, an amazing woman. She's extremely smart and reasonable, but also sensible and caring. She's strong but kind, the kind of reliable person you'd feel at ease with no matter what or where. She's always good at everything she does; everyone always loves her and looks up to her.

Ever since we were kids I've been... feeling like she's a bright girl. I've spent so many years thinking of reaching her, I guess at some point my thoughts shifted to something a little different. But I'm still far behind her. I mean, she'd never say mean things about me like I did to her; you can see I am certainly... not the man."

The interviewer is a bit stunned, much like everyone watching. It's not everyday you get a public confession like that in a livestream!

"So... are you...?"

"It doesn't matter what I am or what I feel." Green cut through her words before she could say anything. "I already hurt her didn't I? I just hope like this everyone will know I was being an asshole, and nothing I said was true. Except the part that she is indeed too much sand for everyone's truck; which means she's out of everyone's league. she's too good and deserves only the best."

Honestly, the mood of this interview completely changed. It was hard for the influencer to keep going and change topics, but Green's tone made it clear he didn't want to keep going on this. Besides, their time was limited and she wanted to talk to more people.

The rest of the interview was barely important.