#I should...i should do my fucking homework...

[isabelckl]

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 3

nerdy loser!ellie x popular mean fem!reader

bored in english, you reply to a girl named E you’ve been talking to on an anonymous gay dating app—without knowing it’s that lesbian nerd girl, ellie williams.

texting loser!ellie that you have nipple piercing in class 2

The rest of the month bled together in that soft, glowing kind of way—every day bookmarked by the same routine. E in the morning. E during class. E when you were brushing your teeth or pretending to do homework. You talked about everything. Or nothing.

She kept you sharp. Made you laugh when your head was splitting from school noise. Kept you just distracted enough to forget you were tired all the time. And somewhere along the way, you stopped wondering who she was. Because it felt like she already knew you. Not the polished version people saw. You.

You’d stopped counting how many pictures you’d sent. Nothing technically scandalous. But enough to make her say “i’m not strong enough for this” at least three times a week.

You were on your phone, sprawled out in your usual seat in English—last sub of the day, last brain cell left.

You:

im on my last sub rn. talk to u later :(

E:

don’t think about me too much while you’re in class

You smirked.

You:

oh i will. especially us doing unholy things rn

E:

i’m blocking u.

You:

no ur not. u love it

You were still grinning like an idiot when the classroom door slammed open. Everyone scrambled to pretend they weren’t just throwing paper balls or stealing someone’s chair.

Ms. Alvarez was already holding a clipboard, face grim. “Alright, settle down. We’re starting a new graded requirement today—your final literature project. Half of your term grade will come from this. I’m pairing you up.”

Groans some cheers exploded. You barely registered it, still texting E something about being the main character in a forbidden library romance.

Until you heard your name.

“...and Ellie Williams.”

Your head snapped up, blinking.

A few snickers came from behind you, your friends catching it instantly.

One of them patted your shoulder, barely hiding a grin. “Oh, girl. Should we start worrying?”

You rolled your eyes and didn’t bother to answer.

Then a voice you hated piped up. Some guy you’ve never liked, probably trying to be funny.

“Maybe you could just show her your tits and she’ll do the work for you.”

You turned. Instantly.

“Shut the fuck up,” you snapped. Loud enough for people to hear.

He put his hands up, smirking. “Just suggesting.”

Ms. Alvarez didn’t seem to hear, or maybe she was pretending not to. “You’ll have six weeks. You’ll be required to sit beside your assigned partner during this class for the entire project period.”

Some complaints, some high-fives.

You grabbed your bag, eyes scanning. Ellie was still seated, alone near the front, chin in hand.

You made your way over slowly. She was on her phone, thumb tapping something out fast.

“Hey,” you said, soft and casual.

Her head snapped up. Like, immediately. Her phone vanished into her hoodie pocket so fast it was almost suspicious.

You raised your eyebrows slightly, not saying anything.

“Hey,” she replied, voice a little rough around the edges, like she’d just cleared it.

She blinked once, then moved quickly—grabbing the things from her desk and tucking them into her bag on the floor, her sketchpad sliding in last. Then, without saying anything, she reached out and dragged the desk and chair beside her, pulling them close in one fluid motion. The legs scraped loudly against the tile.

You cleared your throat, lowered into the seat, and placed your bag on top of the desk. One hand stayed tucked in the pocket of your skirt, curled loosely around your phone.

You didn’t say anything else and neither did she.

You both just sat there as Ms. Alvarez started droning about the project.

“This is a character-driven piece. Something with personal stakes. Introspection. Conflict. Subtext. You have six weeks.”

You barely heard her.

You unlocked your phone under the desk.

You:

i just wanna go home now and talk to you

(not being clingy)

You smirked without meaning to, biting the inside of your cheek.

Then waited.

Ms. Alvarez was saying something at the front—project guidelines, probably. But her voice felt like it was coming through a thick wall of static. You just kept your gaze on your screen. Quiet. Expectant.

Still nothing.

She usually replied right away. Even in class. Even with “busy” in her bio.

You stared at the chat a moment longer, thumb hovering over the screen. Not that you were being clingy. Obviously.

You bit your lip and glanced sideways.

Ellie was hunched over her notebook, scrawling notes in the margin like her life depended on it. Her leg bounced under the desk. Her grip on the pen was tight. Too tight. Like it might snap in half if she pressed any harder.

You sighed, leaned back in your seat, and slid your phone back into your pocket.

Your eyes stayed on the front of the room, but you weren’t really listening. Words blurred. The only thing in focus was that weird thrum in your chest. Like something off-key in a song you’ve heard too many times.

After a moment, your eyes drifted back to Ellie.

Her auburn hair was tied loosely at the base of her neck, strands slipping free at the sides and curling against her cheek. Her eyes flicked between the teacher and her notes, sharp and serious, like she was actually locked in.

You stared.

Just for a second too long.

Her brows were pinched in thought. She twirled her pen once, adjusted the way she sat, and pulled her hoodie sleeve down over her hand like she was trying to disappear into it.

You pressed your lips together, fingers tapping soundlessly against your arm as you crossed them tight over your chest, waiting for your phone to buzz.

Ms. Alvarez finally wrapped up her monologue with something about “use your time wisely” and “brainstorming starts now.” Then she sank into her desk like she was already exhausted by all of you.

Ellie cleared her throat, then quietly turned toward you.

She pushed her notebook halfway across the desk, her handwriting a little messy but precise enough to follow. She didn’t look at you at first—just tapped the edge of the page once, offering it like a peace treaty.

You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the desk and your chin on your knuckles. Watching her.

She glanced up, finally meeting your eyes. “Do you have anything in mind?”

You did.

Maybe E.

But you didn’t say that, of course.

Instead, you reached over and plucked the pen from her hand. Your fingers brushed for just a second—warm

You lowered your eyes and started scribbling into the corner of her notes.

Fantasy. Coming-of-age. Drama. Romance. Sapphic.

You underlined the last one.

When you slid the notebook back, she tilted her head at it. Just slightly. Her eyes skimmed the list, and then her lips twitched—barely noticeable. But it was there.

“Sapphic,” she repeated, like she was tasting the word.

You shrugged, eyes flicking up. “Just a suggestion.”

She looked at you again. Not judgmental. Not even surprised.

You raised your eyebrows at her—challenging, almost daring her to say something.

Ellie leaned back slightly. Her voice dropped just a little. “Are you sure?” she asked, voice low and husky. “I mean… you’ve got a reputation.”

You didn’t bother hiding the eye roll that followed.

With one hand, you slid the notebook back across the desk toward her. “You can suggest what you think,” you said flatly. Calm. Measured.

She picked up the pen again and wrote underneath:

Agreed.

You raised your eyebrows again.

That’s it? She just… agreed?

“No suggestions?” you asked, skeptical. “Nothing on your mind? You just agreed we write a sapphic book?”

Ellie didn’t even look up. “Nope,” she said, the pen already back in her hand, sketching something random in the corner of the page. A shape. A line. A loop.

You narrowed your eyes at her, gaze flicking over her blank expression. “Well,” you muttered, scanning her with a mock offense, “I expected something much more from you. I mean, you’re the nerd here.”

That earned a glance—sideways, brief. The corner of her mouth tugged, like she was fighting off a smirk.

“Well, I also didn’t expect you to suggest writing a sapphic book,” she replied, dry.

You tilted your head. “Why not?”

Ellie shrugged. “You’ve got a reputation, remember?”

You didn’t even flinch. Just let out a breathy scoff, leaning forward on your elbows again, voice low but pointed. “I just told our classmate to shut the fuck up because he said I could show you my tits and you’d do the work for me. Do you think I care about reputation?”

That caught her.

Ellie blinked, startled for a beat, then let out a short breath—half laugh, half disbelief. “Jesus,” she muttered, her gaze flicking to yours. “Didn’t know you were like that even in personal.”

You frowned. “Huh? Like what?”

She didn’t answer right away. Just glanced down at the notes again, something unreadable twitching in her expression.

You scoffed softly and leaned back, arms folding across your chest again. Your eyes darted to Ms. Alvarez, who was now busy at her desk, rifling through a drawer.

“And oh, please,” you said, dry. “It’s not like Ms. Alvarez isn’t gay either.”

Ellie looked at you, blinking.

“That’s why she has no husband at her age,” you went on, tone casual like you were talking about the weather. “She likes girls. And the rumors, Ellie—you’ve heard them. She won’t mind reading a sapphic piece.”

You tilted your head, lips twitching.

“I bet she’ll like it very much.”

Ellie stared at you for a moment longer and looked away.

But not before you caught it—that flicker of a smirk, barely there.

She shook her head once, muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “Unbelievable,” and went back to scribbling.

Ellie tapped her pen a few times against the edge of the desk, then tilted her head slightly.

“So,” she said. “What’s it gonna be? Angsty? Enemies to lovers?”

You squinted at her, lips already twitching. Then, without saying a word, you reached out—snatching her notebook and pen in one smooth motion.

Ellie blinked, caught off guard.

You scribbled one word in bold, all caps:

SMUT.

Then slid it back to her with a raised brow and the kind of smug grin you only pulled when you were being very annoying on purpose.

Her eyebrows shot up.

“Smut?” she repeated, slow, confused. “How… it’s not appropriate, I think.”

You bit back a laugh. “Of course it’s not,” you scoffed. “I’m just fucking with you.”

She stared at the word a second longer.

You plucked the notebook back and crossed out SMUT with a dramatic scribble, then started writing again beneath it.

“Anyway, I think something like friends to lovers or whatever,” you said, voice a little more thoughtful now. “It’s the easiest for me to write.”

You kept jotting down rough plot beats, loose ideas—nothing concrete yet. Just bullet points. Your handwriting was starting to drift sideways, slanted and lazy.

When you glanced up again, Ellie was watching you.

Her chin rested in her hand, elbow propped against the desk, eyes steady on your face like she was studying something. Like she was seeing a new side of you. Quiet. Focused.

There was something unguarded about her in that moment. Something soft around the edges. Like maybe—for just a second—she forgot to keep her usual walls up.

You paused, blinking. “What?”

She didn’t answer nor move.

You raised your eyebrows. “Oh,” you said slowly, tilting your head to mirror her. “You’re interested in writing that smut?”

That seemed to break the spell.

Ellie blinked, straightened slightly. “No,” she muttered, her voice low and curt as she grabbed the notebook back from you.

You watched her quietly as she flipped to a clean page and started jotting something down like nothing happened. Like she hadn’t just been staring at you for maybe… kind of a long time.

Her pen scratched against the paper. Her face calm again. Composed. But her ears were slightly pink.

“You’re red,” you said, your voice teasing, a smirk tugging at the edge of your lips.

Ellie didn’t look up. “It’s warm in here.”

You raised a brow. “Right. Sure it is.”

She clicked her pen once—sharp, deliberate—then turned to you with a look so flat it could’ve been carved from stone.

“Better red than desperate for plot-driven foreplay,” she said, completely deadpan.

Your mouth fell open.

“Oh my god,” you breathed, scandalized. “You are thinking about the smut.”

Ellie didn’t respond. Just returned to her notes like nothing happened, but the slight twitch at the corner of her mouth gave her away.

You grinned, triumphant.

You watched her for another beat, amused. “You didn’t deny it.”

Ellie didn’t look up, but her pen paused. “I’m ignoring you.”

You leaned over, voice lower now. “You’re failing miserably.”

That got you a side glance. Brief. Sharp. But not annoyed. More like she was trying not to smile and losing the battle entirely.

You tapped her notebook with your nail. “So, what is this groundbreaking lesbian epic we’re writing?”

“Plot ideas,” she said, clearing her throat. “Since you keep distracting me.”

You hummed, unconvinced. “Am I allowed to see, or are you gonna bite me if I try?”

Without a word, she tilted the notebook your way.

You leaned closer.

There was a character with too many feelings and a bad temper. Another one with trust issues and what looked like “shitty taste in people” scribbled in parentheses.

You frowned, eyes skimming back over the notes. “‘Shitty taste in people’?”

Ellie didn't say anything at first, just twirled her pen between her fingers, like maybe if she spun it fast enough, she wouldn’t have to answer. But eventually, she shrugged.

“Some people keep going back to things that hurt them. It’s realistic.”

You stared at her for a beat. The way she said it wasn’t casual. It wasn’t dramatic either—just honest, like she’d written that trait from experience, not imagination.

You leaned back a little. “Nope.”

Ellie blinked. “What?”

“Nope,” you repeated, already reaching for the notebook. “Too depressing. I’m not writing about heartbreak or sad girls with commitment issues. I’ve got enough of that in real life.”

She didn’t stop you as you turned to a fresh page, clicking your own pen open with purpose. “Let’s try this again.”

You started scribbling, words forming in fast, slanted loops.

Two characters. Childhood friends who lost touch. One returns unexpectedly. Maybe there’s a stupid school festival involved. Maybe someone’s in denial. Maybe they’re both idiots, and it takes a whole novella of almosts before anything actually happens.

You glanced sideways to find Ellie watching your hand move. She didn’t interrupt. Just kept staring like she was trying to match the rhythm of your pen to the shape of your thoughts.

You paused, tapped the page. “This is better.”

Ellie tilted her head. “Friends to lovers?”

You nodded. “Less depressing. More yearning.”

“Yearning is depressing.”

“It’s a good ache.”

She was quiet for a second, then let out a tiny exhale—somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. “Alright,” she murmured. “Let’s write something stupid and soft.”

Ellie took the pen from your hand without asking and leaned over the notebook again, brow furrowed in thought. You didn’t say anything. Just watched her as she wrote—quiet, focused, occasionally pausing to tap the pen against her chin. The sunlight from the classroom windows had shifted, painting her in a late afternoon haze of gold and orange. It softened the sharp lines of her face, caught in the ends of her lashes and the auburn strands slipping from her hoodie.

She looked like a photograph that could blur if you stared too long.

The bell finally rang, loud and abrupt. Ms. Alvarez raised her voice over the sudden scrape of chairs and chattering students, tossing out reminders about deadlines and word count minimums. Nobody listened.

Ellie shut the notebook with a quiet thud and began gathering her things, slipping the sketchpad into her bag and adjusting the strap of her guitar case. You stood, grabbing your own bag from the desk and sliding your phone from your skirt pocket out of habit.

Your fingers unlocked the screen before you could stop them, eyes drifting to your last message to E. Still no reply. You stared at it for a moment longer than you meant to. The bubble of words just sitting there. Unseen. Unanswered.

You let out a breath, sharp and quiet, then turned to Ellie just as she slung the guitar over her shoulder.

“By the way,” you said, holding your phone out toward her, “I need your number.”

She glanced at you, nodded, and took your phone without a word. Her fingers moved fast, thumb flying across the screen before she handed it back and silently offered her own. You typed yours in, quick and neat, and gave it back with a nod.

The room was already half-empty, filled with leftover noise and footsteps in the hall.

You walked out, phone back in your hand, your thumb instinctively brushing over the screen. You opened your messages again.

Still nothing.

Your eyes stayed on it as you moved with the current of students spilling into the hallway—sunlight flickering across lockers and tile. You didn’t notice when Ellie fell in step beside you until she asked, casually, like it was nothing.

“You waiting for someone to text you back?” Ellie said as she walked past, not even slowing down.

You blinked, glanced up—but she was already a few steps ahead, her guitar slung over her back, hoodie pulled up.

You didn’t answer. Just looked down at your phone again, just as a message from E lit up your screen.

Your chest tightened with that familiar tug—the kind you only ever felt with her.

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[fuctacles]

[start here]

“What do you mean you forgot?!”

Eddie flails his hands wildly.

“I just did!” he yells back.

“What the fuck, Eddie?!”

“Language!” Claudia Henderson pipes up from somewhere in the house. Turns out, she could be just as loud as her son when she wanted, but that’s a given when you have to rise him by yourself.

“Sorry!” Dustin yells back. And then, after a thoughtful frown in his friend’s direction, yells again, not breaking eye contact: “Can Eddie stay the night?!”

“What?!” Eddie hisses through his teeth.

“Sure!” His mom’s answer is immediate. “As long as his uncle knows!”

Ms. Claudia knew he was living with his uncle? How much has their sons shared about him? Has he spilled unknowingly?

“Of course!”

Eddie was for now the only person maintaining a reasonable volume. He turned his whisper-hiss on Dustin again.

“I can’t just impose on your house like that, Henderson!”

“You’re not imposing, mom said it's okay.”

Eddie throws his hands in the air. As always, Dustin was right in the most infuriating way.

“You’ll stay over until you finish the paper.”

“I don’t need babysitting to do my work!”

“You kind of do,” his friend points out, right yet again. “And here you won’t get distracted with your guitar or campaign.”

“Do you think it’s all I do?” Eddie bristles, at which Dustin waves his hand dismissively. 

“Or a book, or a nap, or whatever gross shit you ‘almost adults’ get up to.” He makes a face, as apparently talking about jerking off is below him.

“A nap sounds great, to be honest…” he hums thoughtfully, his mind zeroing in on its pick. Dustin huffs. 

“Well, write an outline and we can discuss a nap.”

Eddie did not expect being held hostage in Henderson’s house to write a paper, on a weekday night no less, but here he was. He’s been in worse predicaments, that’s for sure, considering this cell had a radio, a soft couch, and snacks. And as much hot tea as he can stomach, though Claudia Henderson might be underestimating his love for a good earl gray blend.

The afternoon goes more or less as usual, he and Dustin do their homework in the boy’s bedroom, and then Eddie gets dragged into a family dinner. But instead of finishing up or going home, he’s being approached by Mrs. Henderson holding a huge bundle of spare bedding.

“Is the couch okay? Steve got the guest bedroom, but if you ask nicely, he’d probably switch with you.”

Eddie is shaking his head before she finishes talking, but Dustin is first actually to speak up.

“Can’t he sleep here?”

His mom frowns.

“This isn’t a sleepover. Your curfew still applies.”

“But!--!”

“No buts! Eddie, sweetie.” She turns to the older boy again. “I’ll leave the bedding on the couch, you can sleep there or talk it out with Steve when he comes back.”

“Thank you.” He smiles at her, knowing he won’t be talking with the guy.

Dustin keeps trying to argue, so she adds:

“Dusty’s curfew is at 10 and don’t let him tell you otherwise.”

“I’ll tuck him in myself, madam.”

“Traitors! Both of you!”

When the outline is done, his belly full of toast and the outside properly dark, Eddie finds himself alone in the living room. Claudia advised him to help himself to the kitchen if he got hungry and not to stay up too late. She also told him Steve had a closing shift that day and always drives his friend home, but should be back soon as well.

Eddie manages to write the beginning of his stupid essay before he hears the keys jingle at the front door. He’s itching to look up and seek out Steve, but only does so when he hears him stop by the doorway. He’s surprised to see him but quickly schools his expression into an easy smile.

“Eddie! Hi!”

“Hi.” Eddie gives him a small wave.

“Staying over?” Steve walks in, eyeing the bedding next to him.

“Yeah.” He nods and points at the notebook in front of him. “Gotta finish an essay for tomorrow.”

“Uh, good luck.” Steve winces. “Want something to eat? Drink?” He points towards the kitchen, where he’s headed. Eddie shakes his head.

“I’m good, thanks.”

He’s written three sentences by the time Steve leaves the kitchen and walks towards the bathroom. The sound of a running shower is incredibly distracting. He can picture a small waterfall, deep in the forest and glistening in the golden green sunbeams. Close by is a clearing, created by countless adventurers stopping by to refresh before continuing their journey. They’d strip naked, men and women alike, fighters and mages, dipping in the chilly water to clean off the dirt of the road, the sweat from fighting off petty criminals. The water would be just deep enough to tease at the curve of his ass, lapping against the skin and mocking any bystanders for their solid form, making them wish they could liquify too and slip over the rippling muscles, trace the dips and—

Bad Eddie!

He blinks so rapidly that he gets dizzy, but the paper in front of him becomes visible again. The shower is still running and he reminds himself he’s not into jocks. He’s not into his friends’ siblings, not into whatever Steve Henderson is, no matter how objectively attractive.

He writes another two sentences by the time the bathroom door opens and he makes a point of not looking up. The smell of coconut walks by and he focuses on the tip of his pen. He hears the fridge door open and the steps reach his spot by the couch again.

“Beer?”

The water still clings to the weary adventurer, dripping from his hair. He has no shame, no place for it in the life he leads, not with a body like that. There’s a towel strewn around his shoulders and he was nice enough to put on underwear. He’s holding two cans of chilled beer, and all Eddie can say is:

“Please.”

He’s not expecting him to sit down next to him, smelling of coconut and damp skin, reddened from hot water and scrubbing it with a towel.

“Cherish it, we’re drinking half of my weekly allowance.”

“You have a beer allowance?” Eddie gapes at him and Steve just nods, like it’s normal.

“I’m not 21 yet but Claudia knows I’ve been drinking already anyway. So as long as I’m doing it safely and out of Dustin’s eyesight, she’s okay with it. We share wine sometimes.”

"That's nice." Eddie smiles, cracking his can open. "Wayne doesn't monitor my alcohol intake, but it's not like I'm partying much. I just drink with him or with my band sometimes." He shrugs and takes a sip. It's a more expensive brand than he's used to but all beer tastes the same to him anyway.  

"Wayne is your uncle, right?" Steve asks, lowering his own can.

Eddie suddenly realizes it's nice to be remembered as something more than a freak or a Satanist. He gulps down the bitter liquid.

"Uh, yeah. I live with him. Been since I started middle school."

Steve nods thoughtfully, staring at the wall. For reasons he doesn't dare to name, Eddie wishes his eyes were on him instead. 

"Your band is uh, something Coffin? Sorry, I don't remember." He turns towards him and smiles sheepishly and Eddie is taking it all back, take these dark brown eyes away from his face immediately. Steve knows half of his band's name? Be still his traitorous heart!

"Corroded Coffin," he chokes out. 

Steve snaps his fingers.

"That's it! You guys were at the talent show a couple of years back, right?"

Be still, be still, be still. 

"Yeah," he manages. "I'm surprised you remember."

Steve chuckles, but it's not a pleasant one. Eddie prepares himself to be ripped into shreds. Again. He should be used to that by this point, shouldn't he? But his ego is as easily bruised as it is big. 

"How could I not? The biggest disaster Hawkins middle has seen in years."

Eddie winces. It was expected and it still hurt. At least his not-crush could finally go further into the 'not; category. 

Bust Steve had to open his stupid mouth again. 

"It was stupid, in my opinion. You guys are clearly talented, and the music you play shouldn't matter. Most people don't like metal--hell, I don't like metal." He slaps his hand onto his bare chest, making Eddie nod, because yes, he's listening, he's paying attention, and he is looking at his hairy pecs, thank you. "But it was a talent show, judges should be more objective." He slumps into the back of the couch. "You were great on the guitar, I've never heard anyone play like that. I was surprised you could sing too," he says, rolling his head to the side to look at Eddie, who chuckles nervously.

"Why, do I not look like I have an angelic voice?" he asks, tilting his head. 

Steve shakes his head, making a lazy motion against the couch cushion. The closing shift and the beer seem to be getting to him. 

"I guess I wasn't expecting you to be so..." He tilts his head to the side and rolls it back, considering his thoughts and how to voice them out. "Multifaceted?" he offers hesitantly like it's not a word he uses often. Eddie can relate. "I had heard the music teacher talk about your ear, how you can pick up any song insanely fast. I know your English essays get praised, and I know you're unafraid to be yourself, against all odds. It's something I couldn't do..." he trails off, suddenly looking sadder than Eddie knew how to deal with. But to his relief, Steve shakes his head to get back on track. "I just wasn't expecting you to have a nice voice like that. In Hellfire, too. It's like you're taking on a completely new persona. It sounds..." He hesitates before his next words." Freeing." He decides, nodding minutely to himself. "Like you can just tap into another dimension, a nice one," he presses for some reason. "And just live it out. Like for a moment, you're becoming a different person."

Eddie considers him. The thoughtful look on his face that he's still not qualified to deal with. 

"What's wrong with you?" he asks and he hopes against all hope that it doesn't come off condescending. He's genuinely curious, hell, genuinely worried. What makes someone like Steve--America's poster boy, attractive and athletic--think this way?

Steve rolls his head towards him again and his smile is everything but joyful.

"I'm not sure," he admits. "The adult life is more than I've bargained for, I guess." He shrugs, but Eddie knows it's the easy, dismissive answer. And he feels like he needs to get to the bottom of this, his essay be damned. Happily.

"You live with Ms. Henderson, though. You don't have to be an adult-adult," he points out and waits, hoping he's not prying too much.

"Yeah, but..." Steve seems to be collapsing in on himself. "A lot has happened," he says as much as Eddie knows at this point. "And I've been feeling so small against the world, against the universe..."

Eddie's surprised at the mention of the whole universe, but it's not like he hasn't been thinking about it too, so he nods encouragingly. 

"And I'm so grateful that Claudia took me in, I'm so relieved..." He hesitates for a millisecond before his face hardens. "That I don't have to deal with my parents anymore," he finishes with conviction. "But at this point, I don't know who I am. High school doesn't matter, the sports teams don't matter. I didn't get to college, I'm working a shitty job, and not even full-time!" He throws a hand in the air. "Actual high schoolers are taking up all the hours."  

Eddie winces. 

"You're talking to a super super senior here, I don't think I'm doing much better," he points out.

"But you have the band," Steve counters. "It's fun, you have friends for it and if you do it right, it's a great career path."

"If we do it right."

Steve turns abruptly towards him, eyes wide, before he settles back down with a sigh. 

"I believe you can. With your insane guitar skills and all," he offers. 

Eddie chuckles. 

"Thanks, man. But I'm pretty sure you can figure something out, too. I don't believe your 'sports don't matter' thing, there's a lot of money put into it," he points out, not hiding his disdain but Steve only snorts at his tone. "And you probably could land a role in a hair commercial if you tried. Hell, with your looks you could easily become an actor," he reassures his reluctant night companion.

"So you think all there is to me is my good looks?" Steve asks, rolling his head towards him again, this time pouting. 

It kind of is what he said, isn't it?

"Well, no." He straightens up, ready to fix his mistake. Well, maybe not ready, but hoping. "Henderson, uh, Dustin, sings you praises all the time and none of them are about your great hair."

"Good to know a high schooler values me," Steve scoffs, his pout deepening. 

"So!" Eddie ignores him. "If you're a good person and a pretty face, that's a whole world opening up for you. Because as sad as it is, people are simple and need pretty things to ogle. It's what sells and you could totally use it."

He looks at Steve again and when the pout doesn't disappear, he realizes he just dug himself a deeper hole, doubling down on relying on looks being Steve's only option. He stares at his bottom lip as if it could somehow pull him out. It moves and he's hoping for some guidance, but all he gets is...

"Should I just become a stripper, then?"

The flash of images is like a bullet to his head. Steve in fishnets and ridiculously high heels, bending on a pole, chest hair sticking to his pecs with sweat and shining with glitter. His lips tinted with lip gloss--

"I mean, um..." Why is Steve's hairy chest right there for him to see? "Who am I to stop you, right?" he offers with a nervous smile. "If it makes you money, it's a job." 

"I guess." He shrugs, eyes still on Eddie, but the pout is finally gone, so he can breathe easier. It's been replaced with a thoughtful expression. Steve presses the back of his hand to his arm. "Would you come to watch me?"

"Huh?" Eddie frowns at him, at the hand touching him, a single finger running against the sleeve of his shirt.

"If I was a stripper," Steve clarifies.

Would he?

It's never been something he considered, the environment more fit for sleazy older guys who can't get a girl, or businessmen too busy to bother with one. Or bachelor parties. Would he go to a strip club then, if he was invited? Probably. But would he go for someone specifically? That sounds stalkery. Would he go if it was Gareth?

Gareth would look stupid in fishnets. 

But if he asked Eddie, for moral support, would he? Probably. He tries to be a good friend. So he half-nods, half-shrugs.

"If you wanted me to."

"But would you want to?" Steve presses.

"I've never been to a strip club, I don't know." Eddie raises his shoulder in a defensive shrug, kind of lost in the weird turn their conversation has taken. 

Even more lost when Steve's hand drops lower, the back of his fingers reaching the hem of his sleeve and touching skin. The light scrape of his fingernails sends a shiver across his bones. He goes lower and lower, tantalizingly slow into the ticklish spot on Eddie's elbow.

"I'd give you a preview before the show, you could judge if it's good enough," he offers instead, hand sliding down to his thigh, resting just above the knee. Squeezing gently.

Eddie doesn't see Steve anymore. Just his big hand wrapped around his leg. There's a tiny mole on his wrist and a light dusting of hair all the way to his fingers. 

"Would you want me to strip for you?" Steve presses, snapping his attention back to himself. 

His brain is uncharacteristically empty, and It takes him a long while to register, process and understand the heavy gaze Steve's giving him, the fingers digging into the meat of his thigh, the boy next to him leaning in, his eyes dropping to Eddie's lips. 

Eddie jumps up.

"What?!"

Steve is up as well, hands out like he's placating a wild animal. Understandably, because Eddie feels like one. He wants to run like a startled gazelle, or drop dead like an opossum. But he's there frozen like a deer caught in car's headlights. Are the doors locked? How much time would he lose looking for the key if it's not in the lock? Maybe he should try the window instead?

"Shhh, please," Steve's hissing in desperation, but Eddie doesn't want to look at him. "I'll leave, I'm sorry. Please forget about it, I'm sorry."

He sounds even worse than Eddie feels, so he risks a glance towards him. His face is pale in the dim-lit living room, eyes widened in panic. 

Maybe Eddie has been the car all along. 

He knows Steve would flee if he reached out, so he doesn't dare to, slowly shows his open palms again, empty of weapons or judgement. 

"Hey, no, it's okay. I don't care about that. You just surprised me." Understatement of the century. Henderson's brother coming onto him? Impossible, abstract, a fever dream. Maybe he did have too much of Ms. Claudia's delicious earl grey. Something must have been in the tea, the school has been trying to tell him not to trust the Brits all along. 

"You don't care?" Steve repeats, not looking like he's going to puke at the very least. 

Eddie considers his words.

"Not in a 'I'm gonna punch you' way," he offers the best he's got for now. Which even he has to admit, is fucking shit. 

Steve finally relaxes, or rather deflates, half turning towards the dark corridor. 

"Thanks. Goodnight."

As the stairs creak under his steps, Eddie is still processing. He slumps back down onto the couch and for once is happy to find a distraction from his thoughts in the form of an unfinished essay. The thing gets done in no time but he barely sleeps that night. 

tags: @i-have-three-feelings @mblogs @awkwardgravity1 @imacowboy3 @just-a-tiny-void @clumsiluni @shotgunhallelujah @halfadoginatank @carlprocastinator1000 @irregular-child @dreamercec @mightbeasleep @nerdyglassescheeseychick @ellietheasexylibrarian @wheneverfeasible @wormapothacary @estrellami-1 @tinyplanet95 @steddiefication @blasvemous

[rosenclaws]

Hi rose!!! IM SO GLAD YOU'RE BACK AHHHH

omg i was reading kitty and marie earlier AND I LOVE IT SM U ATE and now i have smth in my mind im not sure you'll like it but its like Marie has a family day activity at school and Marie insists that Logan should go with her Mommy 🫣

Family Fun Day || Worst Logan x Reader

warnings: fem!reader, fluff

a/n: this is such a good fucking idea non holy. My old elementary school used to have these events like a star night or a fun festival so Im gonna use one of these.

Kitty and Marie Series

"Family fun day? Face paint, bake sale, and games." You read off of the crumpled flyer Marie had shoved into her backpack.

"Do you want to go honey?" You ask. She looks up from her homework and nods.

"Yes please, Dani said she's gonna go with her mommy and daddy." Dani was her best friend. You often found them playing together after school when you went to pick her up.

"Can Kitty come?" She asks and you hesitate.

"We can ask but I don't know if he'll want to honey." You tell her gently.

Logan often couldn't say no to Marie but this was going to be a family day and well, you don't want to scare him by dragging him to a school with a bunch of screaming kids.

"But...but..." Her little eyes well up with tears and you can't help but laugh. Oh she's perfected her puppy eyes.

"Here, how about we'll ask him the next time we see him okay?" Marie nods and goes back to her homework. While she's occupied you whip out your phone and text Logan. Not wanting to spring something on him so he thinks he has to say yes. Marie is very convincing.

Are you free on Friday?

Yeah. Why?

Marie has this family fun day and she wants to invite you. It's totally okay if you don't want to go though because it's a lot and I don't want to put any pressure on you to go.

You bite your lip as you see the three little bubbles pop up and then disappear. Did you type too much? You didn't know if Logan would freak out seeing the family part of the family fun day. You're still early into your relationship. Hell you still get shy when someone calls you a couple. Plus Logan wasn't a very expressive texter so it was hard to read his mind when all he sends are short messages with the occasional emoji.

I'll be there.

👍

You take a deep breath as you tuck your phone back in your pocket. This is just supposed to be fun, nothing to read into right?

Marie sees Logan the next day and asks him if he wants to go. She's practically jumping up and down as he picks her up and hangs her upside down for a moment making her squeal with laughter. He says yes and Marie couldn't be happier.

Friday rolls around and you and Logan walk to her school. He can already hear the screams of the children and he shudders.

"You don't have to go Logan, it's okay really." You tell him, noticing his super senses starting to act up.

"No I promised Marie, I can deal with a few...okay a lot of rowdy kids for a few hours." He can suck it up for a little bit. Marie's waiting by the front with a few of her friends and spots them as soon as they walk up.

"Kitty!!!" She screams as she runs up to him. Logan picks her up with ease as she jumps into his arms.

"Hi Mommy! Can I get my face painted please please pleaseeeee." You laugh as she starts to squirm in his arms. Leaning over you boop her nose and tell her of course.

"Dani!! Mommy said yes!" She calls over her shoulder. Logan sets her down and he grabs both of your hands and "drags" you towards the face painting table.

"What do you want kid?" Logan asks as he bends down to look at the options.

"Mmm Butterfly or Unicorn." Marie thinks hard as she looks between the two.

"This is the hardest decision a little girl has to make." He teases.

"I think...Unicorn." She nods her head firmly and hops in the chair.

"Kitty look they have a tiger." She points out on the poster.

"Stay still honey." You tell her as she keeps moving her head.

"You should get the tiger face paint right mommy?" You smirk as you look at Logan who is shaking his head.

"No way. I am not painting a damn tiger on my face." He huffs.

"Not even for us?" You pout your lips slightly and so does Marie.

"You two are evil. Evil." He points at you and you just smile sweetly. 20 minutes later and Logan now has half a tiger painted on his face.

"You look purr-fect." You joke and he just glares at you playfully.

"Oh shut up."

Marie tugs on his hand and points towards some of the games. Her eyes go wide when she sees a massive cow plush sitting on one of the shelves.

"I need it." She whispers.

There's a crowd of kids around the booth. It was one of those knocking down the bottle games and so far everyone else has failed. Even some of the parents can't seem to get it. You hand Marie a few tickets and she goes up to the booth. He hands her a ball and she gives it her best shot. Knocking down one bottle but not the other ones.

"That was a good shot honey." You tell her trying to cheer her up. But you can see the sad look on her face. There's not tantrum or fit but just disappointment.

Logan narrows his eyes at the game. He watches a few more people take some shots and still nothing. He notices one of the bottles at the bottom get hit square in the middle but it doesn't budge. He knows most carnival games are rigged but at an elementary school? Really?

"Give me a few tickets, I'll get that stupid cow." He whispers in your ear.

"Its okay Logan we can just buy her one from the store." You tell him but he insists.

He hands the tickets to the guy at the booth and takes the ball. Logan throws the ball hard. It's not even at his full strength and it knocks the bottles clean off the stand. And rips through the tent and gets stuck in the fence behind the tent.

"Oops." Logan shrugs as everyone stares in awe. Logan plucks the cow from the high shelf and hands it to Marie. She squeals in happiness as a few kids come up to celebrate with her. Petting the fluffy hair and looking at Logan with big eyes.

"Is using mutant strength cheating?" You tease as he grabs your hand.

"Nah, That wasn't even my full strength." He smirks as Marie continues to show off her new plushie.

"Maybe I can show you how strong I really am sometime." He whispers in your ear, winking when he sees your jaw drop. Oh that jerk. You glare at him but he just smiles wider.

The whole day she wouldn't let go of it. Bragging to everyone who would hear that Kitty won it for her. She eventually hands the cow off to you as she goes to play on the playground. You and Logan sit on a bench eating some popcorn. The cow tucked under his arm.

"Thank you for coming Logan, Marie is having so much fun and so am I."

"I mean I really only came for the free food." He jokes and you roll your eyes. He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you closer.

"Thank you for inviting me. I...It's nice being apart of your life like this." He says, his voice serious as he presses a kiss to your head.

"It was all Marie's idea. I was worried it would be too much."

"Too much how?"

"Its silly but sometimes I get nervous that we're moving too fast. The word family can be a lot." You explain. He's quiet for a moment which worries you.

"I never thought I'd be this kind of guy. The one who goes to their kids school events and gets their face painted because I can't say no to a child." He's teasing but there's a hint of vulnerability.

"How's it been so far?" You ask softly, the fact he said "their kid" doesn't escape you.

"It's better than I could have imagined." You lean your head against his shoulder as you watch Marie play.

As the fair winds down Logan gets up and heads over to the playground.

"Hey kid it's time to go home." Logan hands Marie her cow as she sighs, not wanting to leave yet.

But the promise of ice cream has her ready to go. Logan buys her a small ice cream cone on the way back. She swings on his arm as he orders and sticks by him while they wait. Marie has seemed to fall in love with him just as quickly as you have. You never imagined this was going to be your life.

Since her father left you all alone with her, it's been hard. Doing your best to make her happy, to be there for her while providing for her too. You were so happy with just the two of you and then Logan swooped in and filled the small hole that was still living in your heart.

"Thanks for inviting me kid, I had fun." Logan tells Marie as he drops you off at your apartment.

"You had to come, you're part of the family." She says. She doesn't realize how much it means to Logan to hear that.

"Yeah?" His voice is barely a whisper as Marie hugs his leg and hurries inside. You see his eyes turn misty and smile.

"She's right, you are part of your family now Logan. We're never gonna let you go now." You tease, trying to lighten the mood. He looks up at you with a serious face and your smile fades.

"I think I'm in love with you guys." He admits.

"No actually, I know I am."

The two of you were easy to fall in love with. He looks at you and suddenly his old ass wants everything. The school events and playdates, the tantrums and sick days. All of it. The good and the bad.

"Logan..." Your heart squeezes in your chest as you reach out and cup his face.

"We love you too. So much." You tell him and he kisses you gently.

You think you fell in love with him a long time ago, maybe even the first day you met him. Or at least you knew you would. He gently presses you against the door as he deepens the kiss.

"Stay for dinner?" Or stay forever. But you'll take dinner for now.

"Of course." His hands slip to your waist as you open the door.

Marie lights up seeing Logan still here. Already rambling on about making dinner. He helps her wash her hands as the three of you start to cook. He looks around to see the two of you cutting some vegetables.

There's a small tug at his heart as he realizes he's right where he wants to be. Wishing he never has to let go.

[lush-escape]

The Vigilante's Guide to Grief

pairing: Jason Todd x f!reader

wc: 360

summary: Jason's therapist recommends journaling to help him through his grieving process after your death

a/n: this chapter is a little short guy but it'll get better promise lmao I can already tell I'm going to have so much fun writing this one

next entry: shock

Dear diary, journal,

"No, that's stupid..." Jason mumbles. He groans as he scratches at the paper in front of him. He runs his free hand down his face, scratching at the small beard that was starting to grow along his jaw. He lets out a rough sigh.

Dear mother fucking stupid fucking diary,

Today is May 26th. My dumbass therapist said journaling is good for healing. I think it's fucking stupid. This isn't going to help heal anything. This is my “homework” assignment she said. To write letters like you're still here

Jason stops himself, his hand stills and his breathing grows a little more ragged when he realizes what he's written. ‘Like you're still here.’

“Fuck,” he whispers under his breath before sniffling. He brings a hand up to wipe at his nose. His hand shakes now as he goes back to writing.

I don't want to fucking do this. I know you would be laughing at me making fun of me. You should be here to sarcastically ask if I want to use your stupid fucking glitter pens that I fucking ha

A tear falls to the page, wetting it. He roughly wipes at his eyes. Jason prided himself on the fact that he hadn't cried since your funeral. Now he sat at his desk, rather his desk that you claimed as your own - surrounded by your trinkets and pictures of the two of you. Now he was a mess. Fat tears in his eyes and mucus running from his nose. The bags under his were deep and dark. He was even growing a beard now. You always told him to grow one, just to see what it looked like-

“C'mon! It would be so hot, I bet it would!” you'd always say. You would laugh and poke fun at him. He refused every time, telling you his baby face was too good looking for a beard.

Slowly Jason's tears subside and he looks down at his now ruined journal page, covered in tears and snot.

“Fuck this.” He closes the book and pushes it away.

taglist: @vellichor01 @thy-crimson-king

[steddiehyperfixation]

i think you should try again

written for @steddiebingo prompt: scoops | 2k words | T |

It's the first day of summer vacation and Eddie should be overjoyed. Free. The cage that is school has been opened and he should be a bird in flight, stretching his wings and soaring weightless through the world, unladen with places to be or homework to do. But he isn’t—overjoyed or free or flying or any of it. The cage is open but he still feels just as trapped and heavy as ever, dragging himself sullenly around the trailer until even his uncle feels the need to say something about it. 

Wayne, never usually one to give unsolicited advice and who generally tends to stay out of Eddie’s business, finally looks over at him and tells him, “You gotta quit mopin’ around, Ed. This sulking ain’t doin’ anyone any good, especially not yourself. I reckon you’d feel better if you got outside, go do somethin’.” 

Well, Eddie reckons that’d probably make him feel worse actually, but he gets the part that his uncle’s not saying too, and he doesn’t want his sour mood to bring Wayne down as well. So he gets himself dressed and drags himself sullenly around town instead. 

It’s the new Starcourt Mall’s grand opening today and it’s packed to the brim with high school kids enjoying their break and graduated seniors celebrating their freedom. And it does make Eddie feel worse. He takes it out on a particularly loud, whooping jock in the food court, shoulder-checking him hard and receiving an elbow to the ribs and a “Watch it, freak!” in return. Stupid fucking town. Eddie pulls a devil face, and watching the jock and his friends recoil from him lifts his spirits only marginally. 

What does lift his spirits is wandering to get ice cream and happening across the one and only freshly graduated senior in this place who isn’t free or celebrating. Steve Harrington stands behind the counter of a Scoops Ahoy Ice Cream Parlor in a totally dorky sailor uniform complete with a hat, a sight that makes Eddie fight a smile for the first time all day. 

Eddie approaches the counter with a grin, looking Steve up and down. “You know, I was feeling like shit today, but I think this just cheered me up.” 

Steve huffs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I know, I look ridiculous.”

“Nah, it’s kind of cute, actually,” Eddie says, because it is, and because he’s curious how Steve will react. 

Steve blinks, expression split between a flattered smile and skeptically raised eyebrow. “Thanks? Um.” He shakes his head as if shaking off Eddie’s comment, putting his customer service smile back on gesturing towards the selection of ice cream. “So, what can I get for you today?”  

Eddie shrugs. “What do you recommend to cure a shitty mood?” 

“Well, something chocolate usually works,” Steve answers, “but it depends on what's got you down.” 

“I didn't graduate,” Eddie says, which should be common knowledge by now. “Again. So I’m not really feeling the summer excitement like everyone else.” 

“Ah, right.” Steve nods with a slightly awkward, sympathetic smile. “Definitely chocolate then,” he decides, grabbing a scooper and flipping it in his hand as he slides over to the tubs of ice cream. “How do you feel about Rocky Road?” 

Eddie smiles a little. “It's my favorite.” 

Steve gets to scooping, quiet for a minute and then he says, “I didn't get into college.” 

“Oh.” 

“Not a single one. Not even community college. That's why I'm here. So, you know—I get it.” 

“Yeah.” Eddie appreciates the attempt at solidarity, he really does, but, “At least you graduated.” 

“Yeah…” Steve sheepishly breaks eye contact as he sprays whipped cream onto the ice cream he's scooped. “Are you gonna try again?” 

“I’m not sure yet. I have until the end of the month to decide,” Eddie says, and that seems to be the end of the conversation. 

Steve hands him a sundae with three scoops but only charges him for one, a kindness Eddie isn't quite sure how to respond to, so he doesn't—just pays and finds a booth to sit and eat at. 

He picks somewhere where he can keep Steve in his eyeline, still amused by those sailor shorts and intrigued by the odd little conversation they just had. Steve Harrington is nothing like Eddie expected, nothing like he seemed to be in high school, and the more Eddie watches him, the clearer that becomes. 

Steve’s off his game, keeps trying and failing to flirt with girls who come up to the counter. Whatever smooth charm he was once purported to have in those King Steve days of yore is nowhere in sight now and instead he seems to wear an ill-fitting mask of false confidence, blustering to some poor girl about postponing college in favor of getting real life work experience as if it was his own wise choice to scoop ice cream in a sailor outfit, but his eyes betray a look just as trapped and heavy as Eddie’s been feeling lately. Maybe there is solidarity to be found here after all. 

The girl leaves with her ice cream and Steve looks up to catch Eddie watching him, a startling, unintentional moment of direct eye contact. Steve gives a tiny smile and a small shrug—in embarrassment maybe, or just simple acknowledgement—but Eddie doesn’t see it long enough to interpret it, already looking away and snapping his attention back to the slowly melting sundae in front of him. He eats his ice cream and doesn’t look over again, allowing Steve the dignity of striking out with the next girl unwitnessed. It’s cruel to visibly revel in another’s failure, and while there are many people Eddie would love to be cruel to today, Steve isn’t one of them. 

So Eddie watches everyone else instead. As the natural curative powers of chocolate ice cream and marshmallows work their magic on his bad mood, he alleviates his bitterness further and entertains himself by imagining great, fantastical harm befalling anyone he sees whom he finds irritating. Snickering mean girls are cursed by wizards; obnoxious jocks are eaten by dragons; celebrating seniors are torn apart by hoards of goblins. 

“I think you should try again.”

Eddie blinks out of his daydream of a particularly vicious dragon to see Steve pulling up a chair, those stupid shorts riding up his thighs obscenely as he sits. Not that Eddie’s looking—he’s not (he is). He blinks again, pulls his gaze back to Steve’s face. “What?” 

“High school, graduating,” Steve says, “I think you should try again.” 

“Yeah, I don’t know,” Eddie says with a scoff of a laugh, trying to sound light because he’s really not sure why Steve cares. “Going back for a third senior year is a bit pathetic, isn’t it?” 

“Not as pathetic as giving up,” Steve tells him. “And you never struck me as the type.” 

Eddie raises an eyebrow. “Didn’t realize you took that much notice of me, Harrington.” 

“Kinda hard not to when you were stomping on top of cafeteria tables every other day, Munson,” Steve points out, like duh. 

“Touché,” Eddie mutters. 

“You’ve got grit, man, is what I’m trying to say,” Steve continues. “You know—you’re bold, you’re tough, you don’t back down. You parade on top of lunch tables and rail against the stereotypes put on you, and that doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who’d let anyone, not even himself, tell him he can’t. So what’s one more senior year? What’s one more try to finally graduate and stick it to everyone who never thought you could? If anyone can do it this time, it’s you.” 

He says all this in what Eddie can only assume to be his best ‘team captain’ voice, an expert tone of firm encouragement and optimistic passion that Eddie can vividly imagine Steve (tiny basketball shorts included) having used in locker room speeches to rally the spirits and self-confidence of his teammates before they took to the field—or court, or whatever. The Hawkins High basketball team never won much in Steve’s time, but Eddie bets they had great morale. 

“Right, yeah,” he says, attempting to remain guardedly nonchalant even as his chest glows warm with Steve’s unexpected praise. “Thanks for the pep talk.”

Steve nods, smiles. “Of course.” And that could’ve been the end of it, but Steve stays seated, taps his fingers against the table, and surprises Eddie again by saying, “And, hey, um, you run that Dungeons and Dragons club at school, right? Hell-something?” 

“Hellfire, yeah,” Eddie confirms, adding Steve Harrington knows what D&D is? to the ever-growing list of things that have bewildered and intrigued him about Steve today. “Why?”

“There’s a couple of kids I kind of babysit, they’re gonna be freshmen next year and they’re really into that nerd stuff—like, total geeks,” Steve says. Easy targets, he means. He shrugs. “So, you know, if you did decide to stick around another year, it’d be nice for them to have someone to look out for ‘em.”

“Ah,” Eddie says. Now this all makes a little more sense. He points his spoon at Steve. “There it is, the ulterior motive.” Steve doesn’t care about him; he hasn’t been trying to talk him into a third senior year for Eddie’s sake, but for the sake of a bunch of nerdy kids he knows. Which, actually, is still kind of sweet. 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Put that accusing spoon down, Munson, there’s no ulterior motive. I meant what I said before, too. I want you to try again for you, because you really are tough and I really do think you can do it. But also because there are some kids who might need you. Both of those things can be true.”

Eddie puts his accusing spoon down and uses it to take another bite of his soupy ice cream instead. “I guess.” 

“And, who knows, maybe I want it for me too,” Steve adds flippantly, and Eddie can’t tell if he’s being serious or if this is just a cheeky hypothetical to further his point. “You know, I drive those kids around a lot, I’ll probably be picking them up from those Hellfire meetings. Maybe I want to see more of you. Maybe all three of those things can be true.” 

Hypothetical or not, Eddie can’t hold back his oddly endeared smile anymore. “Alright,” he concedes, “you’ve made your point.” 

Steve grins back. “I’ve gotta get back to work,” he says, finally standing up. He drops a hand onto Eddie’s shoulder as he passes by, a brief, lingering squeeze. “Just think about it.” 

Eddie glances at his shoulder as if half expecting the touch to have sunk into his skin and left some sort of imprint. It hadn’t, of course. He scrapes up the last of his sundae and quickly stands before Steve can get too far. “Hey, Steve?” 

Steve pauses and turns around. 

“I think you should try again too.” 

“What, with college and stuff? Yeah, I know, I’ll probably reapply next year.” 

“Well, yeah, good, that too,” Eddie says, “but I meant— I saw you strike out with that girl earlier; I think you should try again. You’ve got a lot going for you, really, and I, uh, I think a lot more people would see that if you didn’t put up some weird facade of over-the-top confidence. So- yeah, I think you should try again, but be honest, be yourself, you know, without all that bluster.”

Steve smiles, a slow, bemused sort of smile that borders on a smirk, as his head tilts and his eyes glance Eddie over. “I just did,” he says, and then he’s turning away again. “I’ll see you around, Eddie.” 

It takes a couple seconds of buffering time for Eddie to process exactly what Steve meant by that, and by then Steve’s already gone, back to work and busy. “Yeah, you will,” Eddie mutters in delayed, unnecessary response, grinning to himself as he throws away his empty sundae cup and walks out of there in far better spirits than he’d entered with. 

He still doesn’t know yet if he’ll be going back to Hawkins High for another try at senior year, but he does know that he’ll definitely be coming back here, to Scoops Ahoy, for another try at Steve Harrington.

[gugudalala]

ft. sae itoshi / rin itoshi x reader

synopsis: They grew up together, hearts quietly entwined — even when Sae left for America. Now that Sae's back, Rin is done watching from the sidelines and pushes his way between them, Sae's long-suppressed jealousy boils over — the quiet bond they once shared threatens to erupt into something far more dangerous.

TW: smut with plot, spanking, degradation, size kink, unprotected, praise, ect+++

words: 1155

A/N. I do not own any of the character or picture (credit to the rightful owner) only the plots are mine. 

Enjoy ദ്ദി(˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

CH: 1 | 2 | 3

────୨ৎ────

"Rin, please stop" he pushed you back onto the door as you both got inside his room. With both his hands on the side of your head, kissing so passionately. When you try to escape only for him to force you back into the kiss. 

‘How... how did it come to this?’ 

Sae just returned for a family visit. You've known each other since we were kids, growing up in the same neighborhood and even sharing the same class. Then there's Rin, Sae’s younger brother. He’s always been around, even when Sae wasn't. When you were younger, you found it adorable how Rin looked up to his older brother. Even after Sae left, Rin kept showing up—asking for help with homework, tests, anything to stay close.

But over time, Rin began to change. He started to grow into someone who reminded me more and more of Sae—your first love… and your darkest secret.

You were just having a normal family dinner, with his parents and yours, celebrating Sae’s return. With Sae sitting right beside you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter every time your eyes met. But that moment didn’t last—because then Rin caught your gaze, stood up without a word, and pulled you into his room before anyone even noticed.

Pulling away from the kiss "The way you looked at him… Why? I've always been here for you. Why can’t you look at me like that? What does he have that I don’t?" 

"Rin, please…" Confused by his actions, your heart stumbles. All this time, you believed he was just the younger brother of the one you once loved — one you never saw coming.

"You were so excited all morning, dressing so well... just because my brother was coming back?" pushing you into his bed, he reached into your skirt cupping onto my heat "Look at how wet you are, hopping for my brother to fuck you, don't you" his finger move your panties aside as he tease and thrust his finger into you. You can't help but squirm but his hand held you into place "listen to it" lewd squelching sound filled up the room, you can't help but listen to how wet you were. “Such a good girl being wet and ready to be fuck” Feeling of shame creeping up on you, this is just not right. His finger reached all the spots that had never been played with, pleasuring you like never before — and you don’t want him to stop. Each thrust is hard and fast and as you were about to reach your climax, he pulled out along with your panties. Looking back at him, he was licking his finger, cleaning off your juices, you can’t help but blush by his action

Getting on top of you, he pulled down his pants. Realizing how far this would go, you tried to escape him only to be dragged down by your leg toward him. “Rin, we should not be doing this… I have never done it before” you plead only for his eyes to light up “Then let me have it,  I won’t watch him steal what I’ve waited for all along." He slipped the dress off your shoulders, only to shove it upward, trapping your arms, and locking you in place. When your eyes met his, the air shifted, there was no mistaking it, the heat in his gaze said everything — raw, undeniable desire. He adjusted himself on you, spreading your leg and slowly pushed into you. Stretching and filling you out. You can’t help but to cry out only for him to kiss back your scream. He started moving while giving you small kisses around your face while keeping his thrust slow. “Rin..” you moaned “You are taking me so well” he praised as he kissed away your tears as he adjusted his place and moved faster.

The room is filled with the sound of your skin slapping against each other, while your arm is still trapped by your dress both his hands on your side pushing you toward his thrust. You almost reached your climax but then he suddenly pulled out, again. Flushed and whining “Rin?” you asked but only to be flip onto your stomach with your hip up in the air. He pushed right back in, this time thrusting deep and slowly edging you “Please, please” already breathless and crying from how sensitive you are. He's making you almost cum over and over again, you tried to bounce back into him as you felt the heat coming back but once again he pulled out before you could even cum

Pulling out he moved back, sitting on the bed with his black to the bed frame “Do it yourself” Looking straight at you he demanded “If you want to cum, help yourself” Looking into his eyes, buried by the tears. He's been edging you for hours and you want nothing more but to cum, hard. Even knowing that it is wrong you can’t help but get onto him, removing all your clothes you got on top of him, breath shaky as you sit up “Good girl, you don't know how long I have been waiting” he reaches and tugs some strain of hair behind your ear, tracing down onto your lip with another hand reaching down teasing your clit  “Whatever you're feeling right now—it’s not even half of what I’ve felt, waiting, aching for you all this time. You have no idea what it’s been like" he pushed his finger into your mouth at the same time with his other hand inside you, both your mouth getting filled and played with, making you see the star.

Once he pulled out, both hands reaching for your sides "Go ahead, take what you want” dropping your hip onto him, feeling him filling you to the top. “Too much” you cry trying to stop but only to be pushed down more by him. “All of it, take it all” With him gripping your side he pushed upward while holding you down. Desperately holding onto his shoulders as he drives his cock into your sloppy cunt. The heat came rushing back afraid he was going to stop once again. You bounced back down, meeting his thrust and finally coming on him, and with a few more thrust he comes into you

Within a moment, he pushed you down to your back, not letting you catch your breath before sliding back in “Rin! — Wait, I just came” your voice breaks, reaching toward him to stop but he uses that opportunity to grab both your hands and pull you toward his trust “Shh… you’re doing good, one more” he grunts, rocking his hips again, again, and again.

You didn’t even know how long you had been going for, but you woke in his arms as the first light of morning crept in—unaware of the shadow that had lingered all night beneath Rin’s door, silently listening.

[crankycake]

You’re Gonna Go Far

Chapter 3: I am the Greatest Mother Fucker that your ever gonna meet

Summary: “Parents must be missing you. Out so late at night.”

“When I get back home I’ll ask their ashes.”

Batman scowl deepens if that’s even possible. “Jeez man. It’s ok, humour to deal with trauma is kinda of my thing. You’ll get used of it.”

Batman still isn’t smiling.

Thoughts: So this chapter may be a bit shorter. School was a bit hectic this week. What teacher gives two pages of maths homework for the next day!!

Anyway I wanted to get this chapter out by today so who knows what it’s like. No Tony or Floating Lady. They may appear in the next chapter.

Chapter title is GMF by John Grant and Sinéad O’Connor.

Someone left a comment saying that I didn’t mention Skip Wescott in the tags. I’ve changed it now and I got thinking that I should probably do warnings just in case. So

WARNINGS: Very briefly mentioned Skip Wescott.

Mild Violence.

Swearing.

Briefly mentioned Child abuse.

Self neglect.

Self esteem issues.

I think that’s all. I hope you enjoy this chapter xxx

My son, my son, my son, my son, my, son.

He had a son. Oh god. When he first met Peter he had instantly taken a liking to him. Who wouldn’t! And he loves Nightwing! His kid loves him as a vigilante so he’ll have to love him as Dick. His kids is already taken with Jason. Jason already loves the kid.

The kid had proclaimed his love for Red Hood and Jason’s face had turned red. Then he let him ride with him on his motorcycle. He only lets Dicks ride it if he’s in bodily harm! Then he let him fall asleep on him. Mr Tough Guy was letting Peter cling on to him like a koala.

Dick would be jealous if Peter wasn’t his kid. Peter already likes a part of his family and if that isn’t a massive win. Peter is going to fit right in eventually. When Dick somehow convinces him to come back to the manor or his apartment. Fuck. He’s turning into Bruce!!!

That shakes Dick out of his thoughts. Peter and him have been walking in an awkward silence. Oh. What if Peter doesn’t like him and was only being polite. Dick was so lost in his thoughts he probably appeared a bit creepy but he needed to process all that information. He is about to ask Peter a question about something. God knows what the question is going to be about, he just needs to hear his kid talk. Until Peter blurts out—

“I LoVe ChEwBaKa”

—and slaps a hand over his mouth in mortification. His eyes are wide like saucers, when he’s looks over at Dick to gauge his reaction. Dick can’t help it . He laughs loudly before going in to ruffle Peters hair. Peter freezes at first before relaxing. Dicks about to jump up and down because of that small victory. That teensy weensy bit of trust.

“I love him too bud. Are you a big fan of Star Wars? I don’t know too much about it.”

Jason had tried to get him into it way back then but he just didn’t have the time. One of his regrets.

Peter’s eyes brighten up like the sun. The kid looks like he’s won the lotto and Dicks poor, poor heart.

“Well it’s only like the greatest franchise in the world!”

The kid rambles on about different characters and plot lines. Different scenarios and what ifs that would change the story completely and would somehow redeem Anakin Skywalker? Whoever that is. All he knows that’s he’s hanging on to every word. He’s cataloguing every character down to memory.

”—and Ned! He had such a cool Millennium Falcon LEGO set and we built that in an hour we were so excited.”

He sighs a bit dreamily, imagining this amazing lego set.

Over the duration of his introduction to Star Wars he somehow had managed to drift closer to Peter. Peter was now underneath Dicks arm. Peter doesn’t seem to mind so he keeps it there.

“Is Ned a good friend of yours then?”

Peter gets a faraway look in his eyes. “Yeah. He’s back in New York.” He sighs sadly. The kid has got a kicked puppy expression on (Dicks internally sobbing) and that won’t do. He needs some distraction to get rid of it.

“Are you hungry.” He asks. Food always cheers everyone up.

Peter looks at him strangely before his gut grumbles loudly. Peter turns pink and tosses a scorn towards his stomach. He think he hears a whispered traitor.

“Eh yeah…my parents are probably asleep anyway they’ll be happy that I’ve eaten. So yeah. I’m hungry.”

It was heading close to six. Soon he’ll have to go and do crime fighting stuff but he’ll be able to stay with Peter for little while longer. He’d stay the whole evening if Peter asked and he could get some DNA for later on. Dick didn’t doubt Peter wasn’t his kid. Others will *Bruce*. A legal test will also help him get custody from these so called parents.

I mean Peter looks so thin and they don’t even seems to care that Peter has been gone for more than half day. He’s always flinching and seems to be preparing for the worse. No. Dick is not a fan of these parents. He’ll just have to win Peter over. Starting with food. The kid certainly needs some. He’ll actually feed Peter unlike those snot nose, trollop looking —and now he’s just being mean. They obviously don’t have enough money and are struggling. He needs to get in control of his emotions.

At least he hopes that’s the reason. Cause if it isn’t….

“Perfect! How do you feel about Bat Burgers.”

Bat Burger is a brightly coloured restaurant that Bruce is still swinging round to. They’re sitting in a booth with Peter lightly swinging his legs back and forth, slurping down an artificial blue liquid. Once he understood that Dick would order everything on the menu if he said he didn’t want anything one more time, he quickly got to picking. They were the cheapest things on the menu but at least he was eating.

He was twirling a french fry between his thumb and fore finger, lost in thought, before tossing it back his throat and dusting off his hands. “Are you a regular here?”

The question is unexpected and knocks Dick off his game. “Umm..no? I don’t really come here much.”

“How come everyone is staring at you then?”

“They are?”

“Yup.” Peter pops the p.

“That lady in the red spotty dress has pointed at you and gasped. The old man who was going to the bathroom did a double take and the girl at the register wouldn’t stop giggling at you.”

Huh. Dick has just gotten used to the attention that he blocks out most of the staring and pointing. Please don’t let this drive Peter away, he internally prays.

“…Do you know Bruce Wayne.”

Peter eyebrows bunch up before he knocks over his drink and then proceeds to catch it in record time. No more than few drops spill. He shakes his head in disbelief.

“No way…” He takes off his glasses and leaves them on the table.

“Eh bud you need those to see.”

“No I don’t. I just wanted to wear them for the first few weeks. Reminds me of home.” Interesting.

“So…” He trails off. He’s now nervous. What if he hates WE or Bruce and now wants nothing to do with them?!?! Dick takes a drink to clear his throat when Peter speaks:

“So you’re rich?”

Dick chokes on his drink and thankfully keeps it in his mouth. “Yeah. I suppose you could say that.”

Peter raises an eyebrow. He has something that comes at every table in his hands. A little cartoon drawing of each superhero/vigilante that Gotham has to offer.

“You suppose?” He asks incredulously. “You live in gigantic manor in the middle of the countryside.”

“Well it’s not just me, there’s my siblings and I mostly live in Bludhaven.”

“You have siblings?!”

“Uh yeah….”

“Who?”

“Uh do want me to name them?”

“Yes please.”

“Well there’s Me of course then Babs, although she’s not really Bruce’s kid but she’s our sister still, Jason—“

Peter eyebrows reach his hairline.

“—then Cass, Steph although her situation is a bit like Babs, Duke, Tim and then Damian.”

“Dam. That’s a lot.” Peter blows out a breath.

“Yeah but I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Do you all go by Wayne?”

“Just Damian. He’s actually blood related. Everyone else goes by their owns surnames.”

“Do you have any siblings?” Dick asks cautiously. This could be risky territory. Peters been avoiding any talk about his home life the whole of dinner.

“No I’ve got no siblings. Just me and my parents?”

“The Parker Family has any other relatives.”

Peter huffs. “Just my Aunt and Uncle but they’re long gone. My Dad was adopted by my uncle’s family. So my real name would be Peter Grayson.”

Dick freezes. Peter Grayson. That can’t be a coincidence. Peter must notice his state. “Are you ok?” Dick smiles tightly. “Yeah of course!”

Peter looks at him suspiciously but just shrugs his shoulders. “If you’re sure.”

Dick nods and then checks the time. He has to leave for patrol in 15 minutes. Shit. How has that much time passed already.

“Peter I’m just going to got the bathroom before we go ok?” Peter waves him on. Inside the bathroom he sprays some water on his face.

Peter Grayson. My son. My kid. Peter Grayson.

Peter likes Dick (what a sentence). He was funny and was a good listener. He didn’t mind when he rambled on about Star Wars or any topic. His senses had relaxed in an instant when he was around him. It was weird. They hadn’t taken this quickly to Jason and he was a variant of Ben! He wonders if Dick is some relation of his? That might be the reason. Long lost cousin maybe? Or another uncle….

….Careful….

He was kicking his legs back and forth. A bad habit he knows (Skip once broke one of his legs to make him stop swinging them) when a woman comes up to him. She’s mid thirties with a blonde bob. She has sharp black glasses on and has pen and paper in her hand. She looks vaguely familiar.

“Hi I’m Miss Watts. You might remember me from shopping at Bees?”

Now that he’s really looking at her he remembers her. Bee didn’t like her, Peter wasn’t sure if he liked her either. She was on the phone the whole interaction and complained about the price of the shoes she was getting (They were $16 ) and then proceeded to nearly spill coffee on another incoming customer.

“Yeah I remember you.”

She looks like a cat who’s got their cream.

“Well I’m doing some reporter work about local businesses and their employees and I would just love a picture of you!” She cackles like she told the best joke in the world. “So would you mind.” Peter doesn’t want his photo but if it will help Bee bring in more customers…

“Sure…”

“Fabulous!!! Smile!”

A bright flashing light goes off that make his senses scream. It was a quiet day at Bat Burger so he was fine up until now. The bright light makes his brain and eyes whizz.

The photo shows up and she squeals. “Don’t you just look gorgeous. You’ll be on the front cover. Some day kid you’ll be everywhere.” Then she turns on her heels and promptly leaves. A bit of a weird interaction but whatever. At least Bees will get new customers, hopefully.

Dicks taking awhile in the bathroom and Peter begins to worry. He’s about to embark on the most embarrassing bathroom check ups of his life when a voice rings out.

“Oh Peter, I wouldn’t recognise you in this light.”

A lovely old lady named Madge, who was a best friend of Bees, came by the table. He liked her, she always winked at Peter like they had some inside joke against Bee. It drove Bee up the wall.

“Hiya Madge. What are you doing round here?”

She was balancing on her cane refusing to take a seat. She somehow out stubborned Bee.

“Just came back from the centre. Did you know that that prissy one Leah stole my good needle and wouldn’t give it back!” She had a scowl on her face. You didn’t come between Madge and her Needles if you had any sense. They were her children.

FRIEND HI!!!!!

Dick had finally come back from the bathroom and looked a bit confused at their new guest but not unwelcoming.

“You’re back. This is my friend Madge. She comes to Bees everyday.”

Madge looks at Dick. “Parker how come you didn’t tell me your father was Dick Grayson.”

Peter turns scarlet. Oh god. WHAT! That’s why Dick was so freaked out when he said his biological name was Peter Grayson. Probably thought it was one of those baby scares that Mister Stark used to get all the time. Kids, women, men, all claiming to be Tony Starks long lost love child. They were always negative unsurprisingly. Also did Madge just call Dick his Dad?!?!?! How would she even come to that conclusion. They looked nothing alike.

“We’re not related Madge.” She scoffs. “Dimples you can’t be serious.”

She looks over at Dicks don’t say a word/shitting a brick face to Peter, who is only looking at Madge, afraid that Dicks face is one of disgust at being insinuated that he and Peter could be father and son. With also confusion sprinkled in there.

“Oh Lord you are serious. Well folks Madge needs to get home before the Big Bat shows his ugly mug.” (Bee and Madge hate Bat Man)

Without saying goodbye she hobbles out the door. Peter won’t look at Dick and Dick won’t look at Peter. “We better get going.” Says Dick gathering up his wrappers, Peter doing the same a second later. “Yeah my parents will be missing me by now. Thank you so much Dick for the food. It was delicious.”

“It’s no problem kid.” They’re outside now and Dick smiles at Peter. He gives a wobbly smile back. “Where do you live again Dick?”

“I live in the brightly coloured apartment complex. Isn’t it crazy how that lady thought we were father and son?”

They were walking in the direction of Dicks house when Peter nearly stumbled over Dicks words. He thought this was a situation where they would awkwardly laugh it off and never talk about it. Apparently not.

He couldn’t look at Dick.

Play it cool Parker.

Don’t weird him out.

“Yeah it is weird. I don’t see resemblance at all.”

“You don’t think we look a little bit a like?” Dick asks a little heartbroken.

Dicks got a tanned face, bright blue eyes and unruly black hair. He’s not the tallest man going but he’s got bucket loads of confidence. He’s got muscles on him and he’s so nice. Peter has got plain brown eyes and limp hair. He’s pale and thin and looks unapproachable and unappealing. He doesn’t do well in social situations and has always been labelled as a freak. So no. Peter Parker was not like Dick Grayson on the inside or out.

“Nope.”

“Not even like a little bit. A teeny weeny bit…”

“Not at all.”

Dick seems to deflate at that. “I think we look a like.” Peter looks at him from the corner of his eye. “I think you’re the only one who thinks that. Along with Madge but she’s a bit blind. Oh. We’re here.”

He doesn’t know why he’s disappointed that Dick has to leave. He’s not going to dwell on it. Dick looks a bit shocked that’s he’s already at his house. “Oh! Would you look at that….” Dick says dumbfounded.

Peter chuckles. “Thank you again Dick, for everything.” Dick looks at Peter with an odd gleam in his eye. Like he doesn’t want to leave Peter but that’s absurd. Everyone always leaves Peter. Woah. Where did that come from? Back to the back of his mind that goes.

“No problem Peter. Are you sure you don’t want me to walk you to your house. It would be no problem. Really.” He says it so hopefully but Peter can’t exactly lead Dick to the theatre now can he.

“No I’m sure. Thank you.”

Dick doesn’t look one bit convinced. “Get home safely and come by the library soon, yeah?.”

“Yeah I will, as soon as I can.”

Dick let’s out a hmph. “I’ll be keeping you to that.” He waves goodbye and begins to make his way towards his theatre. It’s about an hour walk but Peter doesn’t mind. He had fun with Dick. He can feel Dicks eyes on him all the way until he turns the corner.

He is exhausted. After his little cold spell he didn’t get much sleep. Like an hour every night and it seems like it was catching up on him. He wished he could change into his suit and swing but he can’t risk it. Not when there’s so many people still on the streets. Peters is not going into one of Gothams alleys either.

He’s around 10 minutes away, dead on his feet, when it begins to rain heavily. Peter sighs and puts up his ho— wait he has a hood?!? He still has Dicks jacket on he realise. Shit. He’ll need to give it back…soon. It’s cozy and keeps the rain out though…and Dick won’t be needing it for at least this evening as he’s already at home.

He reaches the theatre exhausted. He crawls into the window and somehow manages to trudge up the flights of stairs before crashing down on his bed. He woke up at 3 when he heard a gunshot. Spider-Man never sleeps he guesses as he pulls over the mask.

It was a quiet day in the shop. He put up some of their newer items. He’s sewn back his Spider-Man costume after a nasty mugging. His side hurt but it should be fine by tonight. He was finishing up his jacket for Harley.

It was half bright pink and the other half was a forest green. Studs and gemstones were dotted on the shoulders. The pocket had an embroidered heart accompanied by a little leaf. It was a busy jacket but he knew Harley would love it….or he hoped she would. He was a tiny bit nervous to give it to her.

Hmmmmmmm….Powers. Right.

He’s in the back when he hears a voice. He carefully peeks out the back and sees a blonde girl bounce into the shop dragging two boys by the elbow.

The boy on the left was looking like he was getting the same amount of sleep as Peter was. He was pale, had blue eyes and scraggly hair. The boy on the right had a darker complexion and an easy going smile on his face. He had a certain air about him. He must be one of those ‘metas’. Peter bit his lip. He swore metas weren’t welcomed in Gotham (except for the dude Signal who was one with the bats.)Well, Peter was no snitch. The girl in the middle had sleek blonde hair in a high ponytail and eyes that bounced from one article of clothing to the next.

She shooed both boys off to look at the garments and then proceeded to walk up to the front desk and ring the bell.

“Coming!” He shouts. He places the jacket carefully on the table before making his way to the front.

“Hi my names Peter how may I help you?” He asks politely. The girl looked at him like he had grown another head and then shook herself out. A lot of people were having that reaction.

“Hi Peter. I’m Stephanie Brown. Bee has a package for me.” Ah. So this was their most loyal customer. Peter makes sure he smiles a little extra at her but not in a creepy way. He doesn’t want to be rude to their biggest customer…even though she was kinda of rude to him.

“Yup she has your package in the back. You can just follow me.” They have to walk past Harley’s jacket, Bees office and into the little fabrics closet. It’s cramped in that room with almost no space for anymore fabric.

Peter prays when he opens the door that nothings falls like it usually does most times. Parker luck decides to strike again.

Not only does one role of fabric fall, oh no, that would be too simple. Buttons, beads, sequences, glue and 6 rolls of fabrics fall. Peter looks and Steph horrified. Steph looks at Peter looking a bit constipated from holding in her laugh. They share a final look at each other in shock before laughing so hard Stephanie falls to the floor.

The two boys who she came in with come rushing in. One has a high heel in his hand and the other has a ring on each finger. It only makes them laugh harder.

“Your faces!” Steph wheezes. It was true. They look shell shocked but they weren’t looking at the mess they were looking at Peter.

Gothamites had a real staring problem she was starting to notice.

“I’m so sorry about this.” Peter chuckles. He begins to pick up a roll of violet fabric.

“Trust me that cupboard is a death trap.” Steph states as he begins to help Peter clean up. She then whips her head around to the other boys.

“What if that was an intruder. Our knights in shining armour were going to safe us with, what? A couple of rings and a high heel. You could have at least brought the second one.”

One of them looks sheepish the other one turns a little red and huffs. “We panicked Stephanie. My upmost apologies.”

“Very humbly accepting your apology Timothy. I shall forgive you and Dukey.”

Presumably Duke, looks at him and rolls his eyes. Peter lets out a little laugh. “I’m Duke and this is Tim.”

Peter gives a nod at both. Those names, he’s heard them before but where….

“I don’t think I’ve seen you before. Are you new here?” Duke asks.

“Yeah just moved from New York to Gotham. Dad got a new job.” They share a quizzical glance at the word Dad. Weird.

“Are you liking it here so far?”

“It takes awhile to get used to it but it’s fine I guess.”

“Have you started school yet?” Quizzes Tim.

“No I’m still homeschooled.”

“You should definitely apply for the Gotham scholarship. We all go there!” Steph rushes out excitedly.

“I’ll have to ask my parents I suppose. It’s a bit pricy isn’t it.”

“Nope that’s the greatest part. It cost nothing to apply! And they even give you money to help out but I don’t mean you need it or anything like that it’s just an added benefit.”

“I suppose I’ll have to ask and see.”

Silence fills the room for a second before the next topic is brought on quickly. They talk about Stephs bitchy boss and Tim who is trying to go cold turkey on the energy drinks. Duke tells him about this lady Anne who was high on drugs and kept banging on about how Duke was a witch and was going to kill them all. Duke. Who said bless you to Duchess when she sneezed (Peter did too but that’s not the point).

After everything’s put away they manage to get Stephs package. It’s a heavy thing and she pays 460 bucks for it. In cash. No wonders she’s a favourite customer.

Peter walks them out to the door, it feels rude not to when they helped him clean.

“We should do this again some time. All four of us and Cass. She’s my girlfriend.”

He wonders if it’s his Cass she’s referring to. If it is he can see them being a couple. Cute.

“Yeah we should. This was fun.” Agrees Duke.

“Soon.” Adds Tim.

Peter blushes. “Yeah….yeah we should.” With a chorus of “Bye Peters” and promises of meeting up in the near future, they’re gone. Peter doesn’t shake his smile for the whole afternoon.

Later on Peters chilling on his web. He’s thinking about his time in Gotham so far.

I’ve managed to meet every one of Bruce Wayne’s children except for the man himself. I wonder if he’s like Mister Stark now or past Mister Stark.

It kinda sucks I’ve only met one vigilante but Cass makes up for it. Her Natasha would be an unstoppable force. Maybe one day they would meet…maybe.

He has Dicks jacket on for a layer of warmth. He reaches into his pocket and his hand catches on the Bat Burger pamphlet. He forgot he took that.

Batman, Nightwing, Oracle, Red Hood, Orphan, Spoiler, Signal, Red Robin and Robin.

This dude could rival Bruce Wayne in children. Batman has 8 and Bruce Wayne has 8 aswell…. Huh. How bout that.

Holy.

Fuck.

He sits up on his web and stares into both, his only thought being shit.

Of course they’re the same people! Cass is Orphan for christs sake! Nightwing has to be Dick. Damian is definitely Robin. Babs is Oracle. Duke is the daytime hero Signal. Steph is Spoiler and Tim is Red Robin so Jason must be Red Hood. Who knew Ben would be a vigilante and rich in this universe.

He them remembers proclaiming his love for Red Hood in front of the Red Hood. Peter covers his face and wishes to fall off his web and never get up. He wishes Parker luck would just strike and make him invisible. Anything but having to talk to Jason again.

That’s how Batman has enough money for gear and everything. He was this universe Mister Stark but more discreet.

With his mind still buzzing he manages to put on his suit. Gotham still needs him and maybe Peter needs the distraction. He steers clear of any form of noise of the vigilantes. He can’t face them. Not tonight.

He goes about his regular routine but he wasn’t concentrating , maybe that’s why he got grazed (stabbed) by a knife from a mean looking mugger.

He hobbles his way back home and cleans it the best he can. It’ll be fine by tomorrow. Then his stomach rumbles and he remembers he hasn’t eaten all day.

In his defence, he has spent the money meant for food these past three days on a wrench. Why? Well he now had everything he needs in his tool kit. He’ll be eating at Harley’s and Ivys tomorrow anyway. He’ll eat then and then he’ll do his plan and then it’ll be Halloween night and the he’ll meet Damian and then he will go into the school and has the floor always been this close?

“Oh Yanks it gorgeous!” Cried Harley. She was hugging the jacket he had made her.

“That’s a lovely gift Peter.” Ivy smiles and manages to pry the jacket out of her girlfriend’s hand. It was Tuesdays tea time and Harley was bouncing throughout the whole thing, itching to open her gift.

She had yanked the jacket off Ivy who scowled at her before shoving it on. She ran to the mirror and squealed. She then tackled Peter into a hug. Peter tried not to grunt. It was not a good idea to pass out on the cold hard floor. His stab would had healed minimally. Progress was still progress he supposed.

The rest of his time with Harley and Ivy is spent praising the jacket and praising Peter. Peter is positive he’ll never return to his natural colour. He leaves with a phone aswell! Harley insisted he have it when he tried to refuse. Said it was only fair and it was just lying around (in a display case was not added).

Ivy and Harley waves Peter off from the door, watching him till he takes his final left down the street.

Harley sighs. “I’d take that kid in if I didn’t know Nightwing is his Daddy. He’s far too thin.”

Ivy rubs her back soothingly. “I know babe you’re right. I would too in a heartbeat. But I’m afraid we can’t just yet.”

They sit down on the couch, Harley holding the jacket as if it’s the most precocious article of clothing she owns.

“Who do you think the mother is? It’s not Space Princess anyway. Dick and her called it quits a good while back.” Ivy wonders out loud.

She immediately likes the kid. He cares about the environment, cares enough to listen to Ivys opinion and why she does what she does and he cares about Harley. The kid ticks all the boxes. He’s adorable with those big brown eyes and those dimples. You couldn’t not like the kid.

“Do you think Dickiebird knows?”

Harley hums. “Only one way to find out.”

Dickiebird

Your kids adorable

How do you know him?

Met him on the 3rd

We’ve been inseparable ever since

Are you gonna take him

Me and Ivy are looking for kids *named Peter who’s far too nice* and Peter seems to fit the description

Over my dead body are you taking my kid.

You’d be great parents for another kid

Yeah we know

Do you know his phone number

He doesn’t have a phone

He does now as his favourite Aunt Harley gave one to him

Don’t stress Dickiebird

Sharing is caring

*** **** ****

Thank you Harley

Ill bring you some of Alfred’s cookies next time I see you

FUCK YEAH

It’s Tuesday, Dick is in the lab with Babs analysing Peter’s napkin. He felt getting a hair sample was a bit too much. He knew Peter was his kid but that didn’t mean others would have the same strong belief or be comfortable with getting their hair plucked out their scalp. Babs said they needed to be sure. It was going slowly though. So slowly that B might be back soon.

Half an hour later, Dick had nearly gone through the carpet he was pacing that much. Damian had come in at 27%. Cass had snuck in at 68% and Jason and flung open the door at 89%. They were so close now at 98% when Steph, Duke and Tim marched into the room.

They all opened their mouths and then closed them when they read the screen.

“You knew?! About Peter or should I say your potential son!!!” Accused Steph.

“You know Peter?” Asked Dick confused. When did they meet Peter.

“Just now. We were at Bees. He’s really nice.” Replies Duke.

“How did you get his DNA.” Questions Tim.

“Dick took him to dinner and took his napkin, real classy.” Jason says with a sigh.

“Hey! You would do the same thing. !” Dick cried outraged. He looks at the screen as it trickles to 99%.

“Gross.” Steph wrinkles her nose up and goes to stand beside Cass, giving her a kiss on her cheek. “Well when did you meet Peter love?”

“The rooftop. Nice.” Cass replies as she smiles remembering her and Peters little spot. “Looks like you.”

She points at Dick. Dick huffs at that.

“I know but he doesn’t think so. Kept on denying it.” The kid was so adamant that he and Dick looked nothing a like. He says that last part sullenly. Babs stares at him incredulously. “Look it’s almost done!” Duke points at the screen.

99.9%….

10–

*ERROR*

Silence. Then everyone crowds around the computer trying to help. Babs reaches out to grab the napkins from the little compartment. Nothing but dust is left in its wake.

Suggestions are flying around the room of what could have caused it, how they could get another sample.

“I mean would it be so bad to ask him for a sample.”

“Yes, yes it would Timothy.”

“Can we not just do it Bruce style?”

“Jason, what the fuck, exactly, is Bruce style?”

“You know just—“ Jason then made several hand gestures, one included throwing a sack over his back.

“Yeah we all know how well that went for you. Remind me how long did it take for you to not be hostile to me?”

“In my defence Dick…you were a prick.”

“In my defence…so were you.”

“YOU WERE 19!”

“AND YOU WERE A LITTLE SHIT.”

“If you may recall, Peter and I are meeting up Thursday at the park. There I will be able to extract a sample.”

“Without getting caught.” Babs gave him a pointed look.

Damian only rolls his eyes.

They go over the cons and pros but in the end they all agree that it would be the easiest solution.

Steph says she’ll be going to Bees again on Friday as she forgot an earring.

Tim and Duke say they’ll come for moral support.

Jason declares he’ll give them the lift.

Dick said it’ll be rude not to go see his potential son.

Babs is his moral support and Damian wants to scope out any potential weaknesses.

Cass is along for the ride she says.

It’s sorted then. Whether the results come back positive or negative they all love Peter. Damian has yet to decide but he’s agreed to meet Peter at least so a win is a win.

They’ll just need to ditch the Wayne scholarship on Friday. Happens every year. With the help of WE, Gotham Academy gives away a full ride scholarship with extra perks to a good few lucky family.

Since Bruce has been gone for three weeks in space, he can’t really complain if they miss this event. They’ve covered for him now it’s his turn to cover for them.

Cass and Tim began suiting up for patrol. Jason was confined to bed rest once Alfred got wiff of a healing stab wound. Dick was on his day off. Everyone will be out tomorrow for Halloween. They’ll need him then.

Gotham was in capable hands with Bruce already out there. Typical Bruce, goes out to patrol before coming to see them. But what is weird is that he hasn’t contacted yet as to why Oracle isn’t online. Weird.

Peter was grinning ear to ear sitting on the cold hard floor of an alley in Crime alley. He had been watching Jason, waiting for the perfect time to enact his plan. Jason’s birthday was going to be celebrated this weekend and he said Peter couldn’t buy him anything and technically, Peter wasn��t buying him a thing.

He found out Jason lived in the ‘fancier’ end of Crime Alley(aka the part of the city with fewer rats.) He snooped around outside the place quietly and had found a little storage room that would be perfect to work in. From looking in through the sky light, another bike was in there already. One that looked quite expensive and with a bat logo plastered on the front of it. Very inconspicuous if you asked him but hey.

Behind you.

Peter scrambled up the fire escape before Jason came into view. He placed his own bike in the shed and took the bat bike out and was off, but not without putting the meanest looking lock on the shed door.

When training with Natasha she had thought him how to disable alarms, unpick complicated government locks and how to throw a punch. The streets also taught him to do it while looking over his shoulder.It took a few minutes but he was able to get back into the little shed.

Thirty minutes later and he had one tyre off and one more to come. He had already upgraded the engine with any bits of scrap he could find. The bike would last an extra five years now, maybe even seven, but that would be pushing it.

He had made Jason a better seat using some of the less mold infested chairs in the cinema. He had used the left over red fabrics form his Spider suit to make it look nice.

He had this idea that the wheels could have studs that would do damage if anyone was in front of you and they could pop off at any moment. These studs wouldn’t puncture the tires and could be but back inside. It was tricky making the schematics works but he did it.

That was his final instalment on Jason’s bike. He only had so much resources and very limited time or he would’ve done a whole movie makeover on the thing.

He had planned for these studs to go on his own bike before D—Mister Stark shut it down. He knew how it would work. He needed two extra wheels for their rubber and had hit the jackpot while swinging over Gotham dump one day.

He had done one already and it worked like a charm. All he needed was to do the back wheel and connect them up to the top of the bike. He was putting his wrench away when he heard a swoosh. He knocks of his torch and the room is encased with darkness.

LOOK OUT!!!!

A large shadow loomed over him. Peter froze in place. Holy shit. That couldn’t be… the Batman. He grabbed his wrench and slowly turned around.

No wonder every criminal is afraid of him. He’s fucking bigger than Jason. This dude with his all black leather and bats and that cowl that covered his face and those muscles and that mysterious vibe. Who did this guy think he is. Peter is not afraid of him. No sir-ee. Not Peter…definitely totally not. So why was he shaking.

“What are you doing here.” He grumbled out. Even his voice was menacing. Like come on. This dude had struck the lotto on the dark vibe aesthetic.

“What are you doing here?” Challenged Peter.

According to Batman, he has no idea that Peter knows he’s Jason’s dad or that’s he is Bruce Wayne. Peter, as a friend, has every right to be here. Batam, a big scary vigilante does not.

Batman only squints at him. “You are trespassing a private property.”

“So are you.” He makes a point to look at where Batman has crossed the line into the shed and is no longer in the outside.

“I’m not the one stealing tyres.”

“I’m not stealing them.”

It’s too dim with only moonlight for Batman to see him. Peter turns back on his flashlight and waves it around his tool.

“I’m upgrading my friend’s bike. For his birthday. What’s your excuse for being round here.”

Is it just Peter or ever since Batman has been able to see his face he’s gotten paler.

“Your parents must be missing you. Out so late at night.”

“When I get back home I’ll go ask theirs ashes.”

Batmans scowl deepens, if that’s even possible.

“Jeez. It’s ok man. Humour to cope with trauma is kind of my thing. You’ll get used of it.”

Batman still isn’t smiling. “Those frown lines are going to kill your mysterious persona when you 50. Anyway, why are you here again?”

“I saw a light and I came to make sure nothing was being stolen.”

Peter hums. “Yeah forgot that’s kinda your job. Well nothing being stolen! Sooo…”

Batman doesn’t leave. Peter has a feeling he won’t just be able to push him out.

“That’s kinda your cue to leave…so I’m just gonna.” He makes muliple gestures from a thumbs up to a flying eagle before resuming his work red in the face.

The silent statue stays. He can barely hear him breathe. He doesn’t know what to do except to finish Jason’s bike. Forty five minutes later and viola! Jason’s bike is officially upgraded. He turns round to the Batman and wiggles his eyebrows.

“Cool huh. I know you’re jealous. You’re thinking ‘I wish I was that good at making cool upgrades but all I can build are bat themed things’.”

Batman cracks, what Peter would like to think is a smile. Either that or the man’s gone insane. Either option is as equally scary.

“It’s good.”

He’s a man of many words he can tell.

“How would you like to go to dinner…?”

Batman asks…awkwardly. Is he nervous? If anyone in the situation should be nervous, it should be Peter. Which totally isn’t but he’s got the right to!

Why would he want to take Peter to dinner. He doesn’t look that thin does he. Maybe he should’ve ate more this week.

“Is this how you lure your children and collect your Robins?”

“No.”

“Alright you’ve convinced me with that astounding answer. However why do you want to take me to dinner.”

He looks Peter dead in the eye. “It’s very nice of you to fix up my so— someone’s (slick, real slick) bike for their birthday. Doesn’t happen a lot in Gotham and I’m hungry.” Batman mumbles out (more like grumbles).

‘You look like you’re hungry and near the brink of death’ is what’s he thinking. He’s right though. He is hungry. Starving. Batman is a billionaire. It’s not like he doesn’t have money to spare but still. It’s the principle of the thing. He already owes Dick a jacket and for dinner. Now’s he going to owe Batman for dinner. He will pay them back though. When he has the money.

“Yeah I could eat.”

Peter loves sitting on rooftops. Batman had taken him to Batmobile and oh my god. It was freaking AWESOME. Peter couldn’t stop staring at everything. He wanted to press every button but he didn’t want to push his luck. They pulled up at Bat Burger (of course) and they got two burgers two fries and two drinks. His metabolism could rip through 5 of everything and still be hungry, his stomach reminded him miserably. He still hadn’t healed fully (read at all). At least he was eating he suppose.

They got to the window quickly. Their food was handed over by an ‘already over it’ middle aged man. He passed no heed by seeing the most feared vigilante and a 14 year old kid pull up at 3am. Only handed them their food and shouted over his shoulder: “He’s got another one Marie.”

Marie only responded if it was a boy or girl.

They didn’t eat their food in the car asPeter said he knew a spot. So here he was eating two bat burgers (all the food was for him. Batman was on a diet or so he was told) with the Bat himself while looking up at the Bat other identity’s business, Wayne Enterprises. He was hoping he would see Cass tonight or more so the look on her face when she saw him.

Batman had placed his hand in front of Peter when he was insistent that he sit on the edge. He didn’t mind. He trusted him and so did his army of children. Batman was good in his books. So far.

“Do you live in a cave?” He knew he lived in a gigantic mansion but he wanted to ask anyway.

“No.”

“Do you at least have a cave.?” Batman hesitates for a mili micro second before answering. “No.”

“Oh you so do but don’t worry, my lips are sealed.” He mimicked locking his lips and throwing away the keys.

He didn’t bring any jacket out tonight. He thought it would be a quick few hours of work. Not eating dinner in a rooftop with the big man himself. He drapes Batman cape over himself. He looks over at him. He gives Peter a nod so he doesn’t take it off himself. He keeps asking Batman a hundred and one questions to keep his mind occupied.

“What’s your favourite Disney movie.”

“I don’t have one.”

“Liar.”

“…Cinderella”

“AHA!”

“Are you and Superman like best bros.”

“Superman and I are not ‘bros’.”

“Are you Superman’s bro but he’s not your bro. Is that why your salty.”

“I’m not salty.”

“Sorry you just spewed out sea water there. Can you repeat what you said?” He asks innocently.

“Are you and Cat Woman…a thing.”

He found out Selina was Cat Woman a week ago. She just told him so she could tell him about how rude a cop who was guarding a famous painting was to her. She said if he ever met Batman to ask him that question. “Make him sweat.” She just laughed when he asked why.

“Why would you want to or need to know that.” Bruce asks suspiciously.

“Heard it through the grape vine. Need to make sure I’ve got the facts rights.”

“Yes…I think?”

Peter only nods.

“What do you think of Bruce Wayne?”

“He’s alright.”

“I think he’s the Flash.”

“How on Earth did you come to that conclusion?” Batman grunted out. But not one of his normal ones. Oops. Touched a nerve.

“He looks like a fast guy.”

“Well he’s not.” He says like a petulant child who’s just been called young. Sometimes Peter is like that when someone calls him 12.

“You’re right. Bruce is far too cool for that.”

“Yeah you’re right.” Batman agrees.

“Who’s your favourite superhero and don’t say yourself.”

“No superhero needs their ego boosted.”

“True story.”

“What’s yours?” Batman had only asked him the minimal questions. He knew he was itching to ask where he lived and who he was he staying with but Peter didn’t want to lie or answer those questions. So as soon as Batman made any move toward that direction Peter switched it up.

FRIEND!!! HI.

“Hmmm. Well I love—“

“Orphan. He loves Orphan.” Cass plonks herself down. Peter beams at her.

“I was gonna say Red Hood but I suppose you work as-well.”

She gives him a gentle shove and then turned to Bruce. She put her cape on top of Peter aswell. “My friend. Nice.”

“Aw. Your nice too Bats.”

Her mouth mask moved so he assumed Cass was smiling.

“Hmph.” Was all Bruce said. Looking at the pair trying to figure them out.

“Have you met the others?”

“Nah. They don’t come round these parts.” He sounds like he’s in a western movie but it’s true! They don’t come round these parts. Bruce seems satisfied at that. Peter resumes his questions with nothing else to do while he finishes his food.

“So why do you have the urge to adopt children?”

“I do not adopt that many children.”

“I need both hands to count them all.”

“Eat your food bud.”

Peter hums happily away until all his food is eaten. Then a beeping sound is going off on both Batmans and Cass’ cowls. Must be important. As he gets up he grunts. The food will help his healing but he’ll have to sleep first.

“Thanks a lot for the food Mr Batman. It was lovely. Cass always a pleasure.” He’s about to leave when Cass catches his hand. “Hurt.”

Peter heart hammers in his chest. Think Parker.

“Nah, just slept in a funny angle.” Cass nods but he can tell she doesn’t believe him. Hell, Batmans looking like he doesn’t believe him. He feels another question is coming when the beeping comes persistent. They both look at each other. Cass places her hand on his shoulder. “Goodbye Peter.” She then leaps off the building and gets swallowed up into the dark.

He’s left standing there with Batman. “If you ever need help…you can always ask Cass or any of us…” He places his hand awkwardly on Peters shoulder. He doesn’t know who’s more uncomfortable in this situation. 1,2,3 seconds go by and then he’s off.

What a strange man.

Holy Fuck did he refer to Cass as Cass instead of Orphan.

Peter was avoiding the Bat Fam like the plague. It was Halloween night and Gotham Criminals were having just or maybe even more fun than the little kids.

He had gone round with several children and their guardians in case of anything bad happening.

“Hey! That’s not nice.”

Peter dodged the punch that was coming for his head. He sent a web at the man’s hand and stuck him to the wall. Crook No.2 decided it was his time to shine and aimed a kick at his Crown Jewels. He dodged it and sent him flying back at Crook No.1.

Spider-Man:36 Crooks :1.

Someone got a shot at his ribs and he swears he heard a crack but that’s between you and him.

He’s also got a stalker on his hands. Robin has been trailing after him. Watching how he fights. It was kinda creepy cool you know but he thinks it’s time for him to face the music.

“Thanks for helping Robin.”

“Tt. You don’t need my help. Who trained you?”

“Wow I’m good thanks for asking Robin. Also why would I tell you that.”

“Were you trained by the league?” Robin accused. He can’t believe no ones figured out Damian and Robin are the same person. Both have that same ‘get away from me this instant, cat hair standing up’ vibe.

“I have no idea who they are man.”

He narrows his eyes. “You swear.”

“I swear.”

“Well then who?”

“Is it really important you know?”

“Yes.”

“An assassin, an ex-soldier, two scientists, a spy, the streets and far too many others.”

He seems satisfied with that as an answer.

“There’s a mugging on Narrow Street. I would be pleased if you would accompany me.”

“Well since you’ve asked so nicely.”

The rest of the night was spent fighting criminals. Damian was twisting his elbow and the crook put the other one to use by trying to jab Peter in the eye.

“Hey! That’s not very nice.”

The crook voiced his opinion to Peter on the matter.

“ILL FUCKING KILL YOU!”

Peter knocks his legs out and webs him up.

“Reach for the stars little guy.”

Damian huffs. “Do you ever stop talking?”

“Nope.” He pops the P.

“Tt. Very well. The cops will be coming to get this delinquent. Let us go.”

An hour later and the streets are clear. He and Damian stuck to the smaller stuff, which was unusual for Damian he could tell. He heard that the Penguin was out tonight along with Mr. Freeze.

They were swinging and bickering when Damian had admitted to had never gone trick or treating.

“Seriously?!”

“Why would I lie?”

“I don’t know man. I’ve got trust issues.”

“Mhm.”

“Only with certain stuff! Still this is an outrage.”

Peter had 12 bucks and a mission to make a dream to come true, whether Damian wants it to come true or not.

Whoever was in Petra’s Pounch at 2 and saw Robin and Spider-Man buy a trolley worth of sweets…no you didn’t.

Once Damian realised Peter only had 12 dollars on him he threw what was left of the candy into the cart and said he was paying. Peter still gave him his money. Just cause he was rich doesn’t mean the money can’t run out. Damian eyeballed him the entire time. He had a feeling that cash would make it back to him.

“These aren’t that disappointing—“ Damian was a big fan of candy corn “—but I do not know why we have to dress up.”

They were sitting on top of an abandoned shop, munching away on their contraband. Peter had snuck a witches hat, a marker and a red bucket into the cart. Damian actually kept the witches hat on after his initial shock at the offensive garment being placed on his head.

“It’s for fun! Look I’m Red Hood, I’m built like a brick shit house and act tough but I’m secretly a softie.”

Peter had drew Jason’s design onto the bucket and placed it on his head. Damian merely shakes his head.

“You look ridiculous.”

“That’s the whole point silly.”

“You’re strange.”

“So?”

“I like you.” Damian declares.

“That’s good Rockin Robin cause I like you too.”

“May I ask you a question.”

“Only if it’s invasive.”

“Are you Peter Parker.”

“Didn’t think you’d take that literally. No. Who’s that?.”

“You’re a liar.”

They stare each other down. How does he know? He hasn’t been anywhere near the Bats except for Cass. He knows they’ve been watching him. Batman and Red Robin especially. It’s getting to the stage of very weird. Maybe they figured him out but no…that can’t be the case.

It’s a battle of wills and Damian wins out. Something tells him that this is the easier way out.

“Fine. Yes. Yes I am. Happy.”

“Yes. I’ve one upped one of my associates.”

“Always happy to help. How did you know it was me?”

“Your smile.”

Peter immediately pulls his mask down.

“Are you serious?”

“Deadly.”

Damian said it so stoically Peter had to laugh.

“Well no more eating in front of anyone while I’m in the mask.”

“I doubt anyone but me could ever find out your secret identity.”

“Going to have to take you down a couple of notches there. Cass found out before you.”

“Bullshit. That’s utter bullshit.”

Peter was enjoying this. He didn’t know Damian was capable of swearing. “Yuh huh.”

He scowls before letting out a puff of breath. “I suppose since it’s Cain it’s allowed.”

“Well I need to get going. Last time I checked I’ve hit the most lampposts. Wanna have one more round, winner takes all?”

“You’re on.”

“Also I know you’re Damian Wayne.”

Damian nearly falls off the building.

“Ace is not usually like this I apologise.”

Damian had shaken off all his family this morning. After last night he was surprised Father still let him go out. He surprisingly doesn’t regret it. He actually enjoys talking with Peter…and thinks Peter likes him too.

He had brought Ace, Titus and Alfred the cat with him. Alfred had drawn the line at bringing the Bat Cow to the park. More importantly he wouldn’t bring her into the car.

Alfred was going to do his shopping while he was out with Peter. He had spotted Peter immediately as he was the only one at the park. It was four in the evening but he supposed the park was not the nicest one in the world.

It was rumored to hold Killer Croc in its lake but Damian knew that wasn’t true. He knows the reptile prefers the sewers. Although in Gotham, their lakes and sewers look rather similar.

Upon seeing Peter, Ace plonked himself down on Peter and refused to get off him. Peter insisted he was fine. Duchess was on top of Peter head and was looking down upon Alfred. Alfred just cleaned himself on Damian’s lap. Titus was getting the ball thrown to him by Damian.

He was instructed by Father yesterday to tail Spider-Man. He didn’t know how Peter knew where he was. He was completely encased in the shadows. Maybe another session of training with the league was needed.

When asked about this and his powers he only gave a vague answer. When he began to eat, he had lifted up his mask and the dots just clicked into place.

He recognised Dicks smile straight away and there’s only one other person that they know of that could have had that smile. He couldn’t believe it. The one person who was driving their whole family up the wall this month was the same person who they had all claimed as one of their own.

Peter was pretty much perfect for their family. They were told by Cass that Bruce was smitten with Peter and had bought him dinner. Father denied all of it.

Dick had nearly burst a vein. He promptly told. Bruce that he had no rights to his child. Bruce said who said it was even his and if it was how could he have been so stupid. He also told Dick that he would be delighted with Peter as a Grandson. That diffused the big fight. There was still some bickering.

Father then had to be told everything they knew and how Damian was supposed to get a hair from Peter today. Todd had come back for dinner yesterday and told him that the kid had upgraded his motorbike. There were tears in his eyes. He then demanded that Peter must be invited to his Party at the weekend.

He said it would make it far more bearable.

Damian was actually enjoying himself at the park that he didn’t realise that an hour had already passed.

“How old are you?”

“I’m 13 and a half.”

“Cool I’m 15.”

“What school do you got to?” Damian inquired.

“Oh I’m homeschooled. What about you.”

“Gotham Prep. Do you ever get people telling you look like your parent?”

With such little time left he decided to dam tact and go straight for bluntness.

“When I was little everyone said I looked so much like my dad. Why?”

“Everyone tells me I look like my dad in school. I hate it.”

Damian tolerated it to a certain degree. He just wanted to know if Peter thought he looked like Dick or some insight to his backstory.

Peter nods sympathetically. “Must be annoying.”

Before Damian can ask anymore questions a buzz goes off. Alfred says he’s done shopping and is waiting. Damian thinks fast. He still hasn’t gotten the sample.

He likes Peter. He’d go as far to say that he’s on the way to becoming a close acquaintance. He still needs his hair sample and Peter, how does he say this politely…looks like he’s homeless and starving.

“Would you like to come back for dinner?”

Peter looks a bit taken back. “I wouldn’t want to bother.”

“I assure you you wouldn’t.” Damian says with as much conviction as he can.

“No really I should get going.”

“You could come see Bat Cow.”

“There is no way that’s real.”

“Well there’s only one way to find out. Come on. Alfred is waiting.”

Peter bites his lip. Pondering. “If you’re sure.”

“I am.”

“Alright then. I’d love to.”

Thoughts: I don’t know how to feel about this chapter but what’s done is done.

First off, the idea of Peter fixing up Jason’s motorbike came form GinnyNotGinny. I thought it was such a great idea and I was like I need to use it. All credit goes to her for the idea.

All that’s left is for Peter to meet Alfred. I want Peter to meet Alfred outside of the manor. I’ve got an idea for that. Of course he’ll meet Alfred when he gets in the car with Damian but to meet him separately.

Peter gets asked any question about his home life and either A short answer or B I’m homeschooled.

The trio in the shop were done quickly but they will each be getting their own pov along with more time with Peter.

Batman had multiple flashbacks from the last when he saw a kid with wheels. Of course he was going to love Peter straight away.

So I got really confused when writing this chapter on what day we were in so. Peter arrived on the 1st of October it’s now the 1st of November. The school heist will be happening on the 2nd of November and Jason’s Birthday is being celebrated on the 4th. I had to draw up a calendar. It’s official guys I’m invested.

Any suggestions I’d love to hear them. It’s getting late and I’ve got school in the morning. Good night and see you in the next one xxx

Day this was wrote: 13/10/24

[jq37]

I think this episode is the hardest Murph made me laugh since 'my farts smell awesome'. Maxwell pinning the blame on Wealwell for tricking the Gotch crewmen into stealing the Zephyr and making them murderously angry at him was so damn funny. That was the roll the dice decided should be a success, not before that when he was being sincere with the retainers. This fucking game, man. The encounter last episode was also pretty dope and I got my Mech, so this season's on track for greatness.

It's kind of early to call it but Murph is having an all-timer season. Insane that they brought Wealwell along but so glad they did because he's such a bit machine.

And I can't talk about last episode without mentioning real life person Siobhan going, "I'm not a linguist" and then cracking Brennan's cipher before they even got to Zood. I'm sure Brennan knew that was gonna get cracked by her, but I think the surprise what that she locked in so quickly lmao. It's funny because I believe Adaine mid-action scene would be like, oh boy, homework time (see: The Last Stand) but it's so funny to picture Van doing that.

And yay for your mech! Can't wait for next ep and Zood. Hope the ball keeps rolling uphill!

[4h0y-m4t3s]

If ONLY i knew how to draw...digitally...i would 100% do an animatic of dexter and mandark with the song childish war 💔

[morays-lament]

I want a dad, like an actual dad so bad

The comfort of fictional men isn't enough, I need to be someone's daughter and they love me unconditionally and treat me like their family, I need to be cherished by a father figure, I need it

I'm so jealous my friends who have good relationships with their fathers, they know they can be themselves without any risk of possibly being shunned by their parents

I don't think I can fix things with my dad, we can be civil with each other but I can't feel comfortable around him

I can't see him as my dad, he's simply my father

[triglycercule]

hi Gang its murder time trio back with another Mettaton

haha! i guess you could say they Kist. wait that not the right ship whoops

[neytui]

Y’all so done

Finally got the pencil!!! Did some terrible terrors just to get used to it

[chrollohearttags]

I hate toxic relationship tropes but….i need sneaky link ace worse than oxygen atp

[rustyshruffle]

My plans to study for a test gloriously revolutionized

😀 . . .

Im royaly fucked on the test tommorow.

[frankensteinposm0]

ok fine. i admit it. i LOVE style. i fUCKING LOVE THEM SO MUCH THEY'RE LITERALLY MY ENTIRE LIFE.

[i-carry-the-evilmortyabel-name]

The Ship a certain Tag keeps seeing, aka a Crossover Ship: Mabel x Evil Morty

__________________________

Some created/collected dialogues that explains them:

"Nothing in nature lives in solitude, and somehow, there is some small comfort made that you are not alone in your grievances. You don't have to live lonely."

-

"Both meant to be doomed, but never managed to be doomed together."

-

Evil Morty: "I hate that you walked into my life, and I hate that I followed."

-

Mabel: "What's the hardest part of waking up and going to do your tasks?"

Evil Morty: "Finding the will to live."

-

Evil Morty: "I spent all of my time trying to find the one, but I didn't need to search for it, you were here right by my side this whole time."

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Evil Morty: "I know it would end in a tragedy, I know there's a slim to no chance of it happening the way I want it to be and I know I would repeat this whole cycle all over again. I know it won't work, I know it won't work, I know it won't work... but I have to try."

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Mabel: "Couldn't you pick anyone other than me?"

Evil Morty: "Believe me, I've tried."

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Inspired from a post "Because in a strange way, you are better at what I do without even trying."

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Evil Morty: "There are infinite possibilities where there is a happier and better version of what I am, but you still choose me, every time."

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Mabel: "You were a wonderful experience."

Evil Morty: "You were... Everything."

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Evil Morty: "Ready to face the unknown?"

Mabel: "With you? Always."

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Evil Morty: "You've seen my true self and haven't run away."

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Mabel: "They called it doom, I called it salvation."

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Excerpt from a poem "You showed me how our love can transform the darkest, coldest realm into the happiest of homes."

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"There'll never be, in another life where they're given the chance to try again, it's all gone now, all that's left are memories of what was and there'd never be room left for a what could be."

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Evil Morty: "You are my normal, my home, for now I have something to return to, and to return for."

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Mabel: "Love is the law, and your hatred is taught."

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Evil Morty: "If you wanna break my cold, cold heart just say 'I loved you, the way that you were.'"

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Evil Morty: "If there is even just a single timeline where I live long enough until my deathbed, where I am happier and safe with you, I would do everything in my power to reach for it, even if it takes an eternity."

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Evil Morty: "I want to ruin your life, and when I'm gone, an empty hole that'll never be fixed is left."

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Evil Morty: "You watch the display of fireworks, with fully focused eyes on a lifetime spectacle, while I remain a second thought, always by your side, as I watch you."

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Mabel: "Can you kiss me like in the movies with our eyes closed and like it's the last thing you'll ever do?"

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Taken from an old anime "Whatever happens, happens."

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An original quote "She is destined to be a star, she shines so brightly, when only by herself."

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So I think this was bound to happen at one point, since I've been posting about the ship since June was it? Although I'm not trying to convince you guys to ship it at all, but you can read why I do so and you can find a way to respect it and if you have like criticisms about it, maybe I can admit that it is a good point that I didn't initially have thought of or address it too.

Yes, if you aren't sure what I'm talking about in here, it's about the Evil Morty and Mabel ship, which you can say, boo what is a M/F ship doing here!!! Get it out I don't agree with this ship because it goes against my headcanons!!! Well I'm sorry to say that our headcanons don't match with each other and that's fine! You can scroll away or even block me if you don't want my art and this idea clogging your tags cause you think it's embarrassing or you dislike it overall or in general with no reason because it's your feelings. it's not something I can be in control of so I'll just respect it.

I don't care how many people see this, I just needed to write it down because it's been stuck in my head and I never thought to explain why to anyone? Kind of a missed opportunity for all these times I've been just shoving all the art of it without even bothering to stop to tell what is it about the ship I liked, so here is the compilation! I would add and edit more as I finally compiled those that aren't spoilers to my AUs and the general vibes I get with this ship.

I sent this at my discord I only added a few more details about it so here it is!

I thought their dynamic a lot like, "Oh yeah they'd just randomly talk about the most existential and philosophical topics ever and the branches to topics that are random, may be related to the real world to things they've watched and lose the original topic in the process, Mabel mostly asking the questions which prompts him to answer however and whatever he could." I had the headcanon that Evil Morty's aesthetic was a STEM student goth academia with an evil scientist mix while Mabel is more of the decora and harajuku fashion alongside chaotic academia. Their energies may not match now but with constant interaction I'd like to think they'd end up adjusting and giving as good as they get, and the type to excitedly share about the new things they find whether a realization, story or concept. Mostly enthusiastic rambling on Mabel's side while Evil Morty would phrase it as a random fact in life that is serious and needs a discussion but it's relatively the same thing, communication goals!

I'm honestly confused on how they would've pined for each other because I never thought of it, I just went "Oh yeah they're together" like established already and then proceeded with that, but then now I have to justify, and most of my thoughts are "Maybe when he realizes that just because she has this cheery persona doesn't mean that's all she is, the fact she kept helping him time and time again in her own endearing way and wanting to be his friend even though he's been spraying water at her to go away and actually tried being harsh but she just responded with a rebuttal that catches him off guard which is a "point taken", I think he'd just get tired and accept her as a part of his life now but because of that single choice he did, because he started answering back, because he started opening up, because he grew comfortable with her, she already knows quite a bit about him, and he does feel a little lonely, so why not give it a try?"

Like a "You're not that bad, you're still annoying, but you're not so bad after all." Mabel sets his perspective to a twist and that he needs to find the profound in mundane or crazy.

One argument I thought about why Evil M would consider Mabel as someone he can date, I feel, is because he also is kind of lonely, besides relating to her a lot, they're like two lonely people who banded together and because I feel Mabel is also refreshing of a take because she's optimistic but she has that realism in it too that a lot of the cartoons usually lack in, the depth, and also because they both provide balance in the dynamic, especially in growing the things they lack at, Evil M with healthy coping mechanisms and socializing with a lack of agenda, basically teaching him communication, and enjoying life and the adventures because there'll be something new on the table, like giving him a difference in perspective that he needs to hear and being mindful and understanding other people because truthfully who he knows and studied so well is Rick's mind, that doesn't mean other characters he has them figured out either, that's why he sensed a threat in Summer, also because of the fact he mostly isolated himself and 'wants to be left alone' although humans don't work that way and he can't just program it out of himself, because Rick definitely tried that before and it must've ended disastrous.

For Mabel, it's the consequences of her actions, thinking or planning forward, more realism to her own actions and responsibilities, also giving her more reason to utilize her logic than just her own emotions, she also needs someone other than just Dipper in her life that she feels she can rely on and who she finds that she has some values that she can match with though in others she clashes, basically teaching her compromise(Evil M learns that too) since the lesson wasn't properly given to her satisfactorily but I think it gets addressed in a comic, which, okay, still part of canon but it mostly gets glanced at.

Also another thing to add about Mabel and Evil M, as I did say, they match each other's freak, which means, yeah they're both fucking weird and I'm pretty sure they don't care they are weird and accept each other as being weird too. Yeah and they feel like the world would never truly understand them and they find that: "Oh a person similar enough with me but still different enough from me that I can still have something to learn from them!" Like another thing of why they liked each other so much is "Wow you understood me and listened to me?"

Especially with how Evil M is still relatively a Morty, he had issues with people not giving a fuck about him so he just did not give a fuck back but then there's a person out there that decided to actually care and not because he gave her anything, but because she thought he was interesting and thought to approach him. And so she gave him something, and I know his first thoughts in this was to possibly use her, like "Oh she might be helpful in this situation" but she's just so damn surprising and infuriating at the same time because she can fuck shit up for him(this is why he doesn't like involving himself with others, they're too unpredictable) because I think she's both oblivious and really aware of what he's trying to do.

But then he's so fucking lonely and doesn't want to admit it and not going to lie Mabel acts sorta like a Prime Morty who's both aware of the dangers of an adventure but also can find ways to enjoy life that he envies and wants to have and it's not like he wants to interact with anyone else because that would mean sharing more to more people and so Mabel could suffice.

Also most people in the real world are so insufferable especially since their perspective to him is unappealing or lacking or so close minded that he really can't find interest in any of them, but Mabel? Well she always has something to say and catches him off guard, so why not just interact with her? Then yeah they ended up getting closer and since he's like "Well I could trust you with some information" and somehow he finds that he actually could with her, since she cares a lot about her friends and that she's agreeable at times but also conflicts with him and that's refreshing to him that she isn't much of a people pleaser as the others are.

Like finding out they could go with each other through thick and thin also they're both painfully human in a cartoon like world and makes mistakes also they are actually scared children who grew up too quickly and are really just wanting to get a piece of their normal back like yeah it may be from trauma but it also is because they just found out they work so well together. Also ngl they're actually big fucking drama queens Evil Morty just doesn't want to admit that he's a cringe theater kid too. (Hmmm 4th wall break wonder what that is /silly)

Like "I could never figure you out even though we empathize with each other's experiences, and that will always make you so appealing to me on how similar we are but we're two worlds apart." They're also like Rick and Evil M dynamic, when one is lacking this the other makes up for it! That and when they make effort, THEY WILL PUT EFFORT IN THE THINGS THEY DO.

Also what I really love about the whole if they'd be in a relationship and it's because Mabel would teach Evil M about love because she has it in spades, literally out here appreciating the little things and the big things and wanting to spend time with someone, but also because he spent most of his time surviving and now he has free time to do something else well why not do something because you want it and I mean, you have all the time in the world now. And also because I feel love is something that Rick never gave him, so then him loving someone is something he can call his own, fully, and not attached to something he got from Rick. Besides you know, fucking off to somewhere else and building a civilization where his needs are met.

And Mabel is very chatty, and likes spending a lot of time with someone if she loves them, and sure she may be the first to fall in love but Evil Morty like I said, would fall in love harder, because of how much time they end up spending time together, it's like impossible not to since she takes up most of his time, and he lets it happen. He probably ended up liking her romantically anyway because she's oh so stupid and smart and gives good ideas here and there and also cause she's genuinely nice to him.

Like I'm pretty sure if I made love logical it's gonna destroy the whole point of it being a mystery and most people don't know why it's so illogical too. Literally Mabel bounces back because she got a good support system and she's emotionally more fulfilled in life and now she wants to give Evil Morty a glimpse of what she sees despite the truth being fucking harsh.

This connects to my headcanon and semi-analysis about Evil Morty in the infodump where he's basically a depressed loser trying to distract himself saying he doesn't need anyone but humans don't work that way. My earlier ideas which kick-started this one was basically me viewing Mabel to Evil Morty as Diane is to Rick as Betty is to Simon and if people do even watch the Rick and Morty Anime, Elle is to Morty Prime.

Little fun facts about them, Evil Morty has actually done several drunk driving incidents, and Mabel is based on Pinkie Pie. His nickname for Mabel is Aelita which stuck to him, but has a rather dark implication of a starlight being seen for the last time.

Mabel doesn't care if the laundry had already been done and her wardrobe is the size of Sofia the first, SHE WILL STILL END UP BORROWING HIS FEW OUTFITS HE WEARS REPEATEDLY FOR MONTHS ON END.

Evil Morty doesn't actually like cooking(he just cooks to live) but it ends up with him having to learn how to cook properly although Mabel straight up eats through almost anything(she has eaten sand, dirt, and a plastic toy before). Mabel has driven before... Let's not get into detail what happened to the poor car.

He kinda knew she liked him, it's so obvious he doesn't even doubt it anymore, he just watched her try to confess to him but it always conveniently gets interrupted by the fourth wall(it got a little tiring so he had to set things straight once and for all, they have a unique dynamic to me because I think him as oriented aroace, so his feelings are like the equivalent of queerplatonic, but Mabel has romantic attraction to him, they just kinda settled into not being official, it's just how it is and it's not like they need to confirm, they just simply are).

I think they're pretty jealous people, if they ever have anything to be jealous about, I think their relationship is so far healthy(it was a really long talk about the questionable shit he did), the only worries they have about each other is like... Logically speaking, if any one of them dies.

Also my explanation for Evil Morty's actions that may or may be debated you guys can add more information I think so. Which would be down below this paragraph.

So like we know how evil Morty isn't that all that interested in power himself, he only uses it as a means to an end in the citadel, and I'm saying this that he only likes to reach his end goal most of the time, he would do ANYTHING, for that goal, and in here, the end goal was... Clearly going to be something, because okay, Evil Morty is a little bit aimless since it's kind of working as a multiverse to him which is without a Rick, and sure he's thriving, that's exactly what he wanted, but the thing now, is that he's absolutely clueless what to do next.

He can relax, he can do that, he has peace, yes, but the itch of every human being is there, the want or the urge to complete something new, because there's always going to be a new thing they will do after the next big thing they have done, the world doesn't stop just because you completed it, and that's where Evil Morty is lost on, he's in a world without Rick as the center, now what? He can be normal now, he tried that, he tried so hard being semi normal himself, but then it never worked out. So then all he yearned now was for a new experience, he already reached the top, sure, what's the point in that?

Another mountain conquered he had said, maybe all he needed was a distraction, and more, this is like the dilemma of immortality all over again, and I just love adding philosophical topics like that. He is to just be that person who's so tired that he is desperate to escape from one thing, like desperately running away from something and sure he does it but then I feel like it would come back and bite him again. Like okay, smartass, what next to? He tries to do the things that he wanted to do that he couldn't with what Rick has prohibited or restricted him to do by circumstances or explicitly told him, but then because of the environment he was raised in, it never gets erased.

He's the Rickest Morty for a good reason, he's like Rick, I think he knows that deep inside that he is. He's still broken by Rick, the things that are in the inside, they AREN'T healed.

Anyway, it's kind of said that Rick and Morty is like showing the dark side of improvement and I really liked that aspect of the show because it isn't easy, you get repercussions even though what you're doing for is yourself, and it's not like life cares about it too much to know that you're busy for it. And this, Evil Morty is improving, but at what cost? He did everything, should he have lost instead because it felt more like a pyrrhic victory if anything. What people forget is that he's a child, living in the hands of an abuser that was everywhere in his life, everything he knew, now it's gone and over, he's free isn't he? He finds threats to himself, eliminates it, which is what happened in the Season 7, Episode 5, he got the omega device. All he wants is leverage against people and to be left alone, but because of this freedom he chased so hard.

He's just surviving, mostly, at least what most of his life is, he doesn't admit that he's bored, and tries to distract himself — going somewhere, collecting materials, he knows he can just make an endless supply of them if he wanted and if he could, I just think he CHOSE NOT TO, because then he'd have nothing left to do. He found himself in a cage in freedom, being so free it's stifling and empty, it's too free with no limitations. Give someone an instruction to create the world and they wouldn't know what to do, they're overwhelmed by what they could essentially take that they never stopped to think, well, what do they want?

And... does it really matter? I think he's lonely, like incredibly so, and maybe nihilistic too, since that's what Rick kind of taught him in life, and since he did scan many of the Ricks' brain, he definitely knows that.

He probably doesn't know why he's living either, and even though he tries to further himself away from humanity, he's always going to be human anyway. He's so unbearably human else he wouldn't have escaped Rick, be done with dealing with him, he knows he's been wronged by them too many times to count. So he left the central finite curve. He cares for himself, at least.

So he survives, even if that's the barest minimum a human should give themselves. He's been given worse cards that he's satisfied with just so little. He's just wanting to find a purpose in a harsh world that doesn't care to give you one. He's been rebellious, at Rick, at people who've annoyed him and bothered him, maybe pure spite may keep him alive, but until when he realizes, well what's all this for? I think it was a blessing, to remain ignorant, because to me it feels like, you're either the rest of everyone, knowing less, or you just end up like Rick knowing more and feeling so alienated, feeling like a God or wondering, always wondering on an answer that'll never be answered.

He's the embodiment of "I put so much effort into this, I dedicated my entire life for this, that if I fail, what else is there to do?" Does he badly need therapy? Actually yeah, most people just call him an edgy bitch but he's kind of like every human there is after finding out nobody knows what they're actually doing and we're just getting more and more information but we truly don't know what to do with it, we just try to benefit from it. That guy's worth is equivalent to the plan in motion he placed in season 1, "What am I if I couldn't do it." And "What do you mean that's all there is?" "You fool, it's always been like that."

I rest my case, you guys can just take this as you will. I guess I adored it due to the potential it had also the tropes I could link to this that I think fits a lot of those that are common or even favored by people, the most common one yet is the opposites attract! Which was one of my main ideas for this ship. Also if you know MBTI, this is also a reference to the ENFP and INTJ duo. It could be romantic and it could be platonic that you make it to be but I kinda just want to see them in a setting where they're interacting which would never happen so fanart and fandom can just carry it instead!

Also ships I have compared or found similarities in though not exactly fully similar so you can envision it much clearer through examples: Pinky and Brain, Nana and Hachi, Furina and Scaramouche, Mitsi and Victim, My Melody and Kuromi, Shadow and Amy, Robin and Starfire, Miss Heed and Dr Flug(somewhat), Damian Desmond and Anya Forger, Galinda and Elphaba, Momo Ayase and Ken Takakura, Druig and Makkari, Hades and Persephone, Kim Dokja and Han Sooyoung, Homura and Madoka, Tobey McAllister and Becky Botsford, Saiki K and Teruhashi Kokomi, Eru Chitanda and Hotaro Oreki, Mamoru Chiba and Usagi Tsukino, Enid Sinclair and Wednesday Addams, (Kinda funny) Lucy Wilde and Felonius Gru. Maybe I would add more information in the future in this same post but that's most of my thoughts on the matter. Okay byeee~

Link to their playlist which were mostly recommendations: EvilMortyabel playlist