#like okay besties I get it!

[captain-krow-drozdov]

Danny Is An Alternate Version Of Ra's Al Ghul And Flash Already Called Dibs On Adopting Him

Danny In All His Sleep Deprived Slightly Scuffed Up From A Fight Glory Is On His Way To Clockworks Tower To Hopefully Get A Nap And Maybe Some Homework Done When A Natural Portal Opens Up In Front Of Him And Proceeds To Unceremoniously Drop Him In The DC Verse Just Outside Of Central City Before Promptly Closing Leaving A Tired Danny Behind In A Run Down Abandoned Parking Lot.

It's Times Like This When Danny Regrets Putting Off Learning How To Make His Own Portals, Cause Now He Is Very Much Stuck For The Foreseeable Future And He Has No Idea Where Or When He Is. Luckily For Him However Central City Isn't Too Far Away, Unlucky For Him However Is That Once In The City He Realizes This Isn't His Dimension. He's Pretty Sure He'd Remember Something Called The Justice League.

So What Do You Do When Supernatural Bullshit Fails You? You Fall Back On Your Mad Scientist Roots And You Make A Portal Gun. So That's Exactly What Danny Plans To Do.

Unfortunately Staying Alive And Building Questionably Safe Portal Technology Requires Money And Supplies, So He Ends Up Wandering From City To City Doing Odd Jobs/Fixing Up Busted Tech For Cash Or Unwanted Electronics For His "Operation: Get Home" Needs. This Obviously Ends In A Few Superhero Encounter Shenanigans.

Though He Always Ends Up Back Near Central City, Both On The Off Chance The Natural Portal Will Open Up Again And Because Out Of All The Superheroes That Apparently Exist In This Universe The Speedsters Are His Favorite (Red Robin Is Solidly His Second Favorite Ever Since The Gotham Vigilante Gave Him A Large Coffee Filled With Enough Caffeine To Kill A Man).

Unbeknownst To Danny However Is That Every Hero/Vigilante He Has Encountered Has Come To At Least One Of The Following Conclusions; 1. Run Away Meta Who Is In Desperate Need Of A Good Meal/Adoption Bait. 2. Possibly Red Robin/Tim Drake Clone 3. A Good Kid But Could Possibly Be A Future Rouge If Left Unsupervised. 4. Did Bats Get A New Kid And Why Is He Here?

All Flash Knows Is That He Saw The Kid First And Therefore Has Dibs. Suck It Bruce.

Fast-forward A Few Months And Danny Gets Hurt During A Rogue Attack While Trying To Help Some Civilians Get To Safety (Old Hero Habits Die Hard (Ha Die Hard) And All That Jazz) And He Nopes Out Once Everyone Is Safe And When The Paramedics Are Busy With Other People Unaware He Left A Blood Sample Behind.

One DNA Test Brought To You By Paranoid Bat Concerns Of A Possible Red Robin Clone Later And They Find Out That Dannys DNA Matches One Ra's Al Ghul.

They Now Think Danny Is An Escaped Ra's Al Ghul Clone.

Memes For The Vibes:

[lygma-nygma]

Being a batfam fan is funny because people will make a post like “here’s my headcanon-“ and it’s just something that’s directly canon to the story then post about major canon events and get everything wrong.

[buqbite]

part 1 (on VA and being better than humans)

part 2 (on welt and being just a human)

[dendroaspis-viridis]

I'm begging you, BioWare... Learn from the mistakes of Baldur's Gates past...

[probably-not-a-rutabaga]

i offer one of my favorite frames from aberration short so far,, just to show that i am indeed making progress :]

[fumifooms]

thanks for infecting me with marchil its so so fun to just see them pair themselves up in the background now

especially love how much she picks him up like a cat (and when he has the opportunity to do it to her too he just lugs her around like a sack of oats) gosh i love them they're so funny

YAAAAAA 🎉🎉 I’m so glad to hear it welcome to the sillies corner 🤝

THEY’RE SOOO SO FUNNY

They’re worsties that cannot get enough of each other

[skitskatdacat63]

2023 Brazilian Grand Prix - Fernando Alonso & Oscar Piastri exchanging helmets

[ef-1]

labour | female rage playlist, part 2

[ninyard]

Hellooo i saw that you were asking for asks (that sounds funny) and I wanna know some of your hcs on Kevin and Allison being besties/ kevjean relationship

This is my chance to finally share some Allison/Kevin hcs so I'm gonna seize this opportunity with both hands and give you this total MESS of a brain dump

- Allison is the only fox that doesn't make fun of Kevin's eating habits. Kevin KNOWS his relationship with food is fucked up because of the nest and Allison knows it too, so she refuses to make bets or make fun of the way that he eats. Kevin only realised because she once tried to quietly tell Nicky to knock it off when he was pushing Kevin to have dessert or making fun of what he'd decided to have instead.

- Kevin also knows not to talk about the numbers or macros in front of her, too. They have a weird unspoken mutual respect RE: food and they both appreciate each others efforts on that front without ever actually mentioning it. they also have a gesture for each other that's code for "i want a snack do you have anything" and they'll throw each other protein bars if they're out/on a long bus journey etc.

- they are the BEST drinking buddies. Whenever the team starts drinking/partying/clubbing more together post-TKM, they are literally CHILDREN when they're drunk together. Kevin gets tired of the monsters being boring when they go out and there's only so much dancing he can do with just Nicky and Aaron alone. So Allison pulls him up to the bar one night to do a tequila shot, and they literally have the most unexpectedly fun night ever. Kevin loosens up a whole lot without the threat of Riko etc post tkm, and when I tell you he is such a fun drunk. now he doesn't really drink THAT much during the season but off-season? oh he's a party animal. I could write thousands of words about him and Allison getting drunk together and becoming literal best friends as soon as they have a drop of alcohol in their systems but here's some things I think they've done drunk

stole a shopping cart and sat in it as they pushed each other down the road in it (and fallen out of it and laughed so fucking hard) ((but were bruised up as fuck the next day because of it)

he's sat her on his shoulders - while dan sits on matt's - as the two girls try to push the other one off

he's really easily convinced to do things by her. another shot? sure. and another shot IMMEDIATELY after that? alrighty! karaoke? well, okay. jockeyback? stealing traffic cones? pulling pranks and fucking with the other foxes? acting like actual teenagers? okidokie!

she's probably the only person in the world who has successfully convinced kevin day to sing

he holds back her hair if she has to puke

she convinced him to let her do his makeup once. full glam. like a serious look, fully beat, full coverage look. there's a picture out there somewhere of it that she saves for blackmail.

fucked. make out sometimes. strip poker. they dance together :)

he never lets her walk alone anywhere when she's drunk. if she can't find one of the girls to accompany her to the bathroom at a party she'll take him.

she's taught him full dance routines

she was joking that there's no way the raven warmups could be that different to theirs, and bet him that she'd be able to do them without breaking a sweat (he won)

they've both ugly drunk cried in front of each other (but they never talk about that sober)

she's pretty light so he's bench pressed her before

- They know each others drink orders/favourite shots

- if Allison is out, say she's with her friends and not with the foxes, and she has to wait alone for a taxi or walk somewhere alone, she'll call him and he'll stay on the phone with her until she's safe

- They make fun of each other and bully each other like there's no tomorrow (affectionate). the whole "Allison hates Kevin" thing WAS true for a while, but once they get closer, she just pretends to hate him. he's like an annoying brother to her

- Allison is really easily frightened, and Kevin thinks it's funny to scare her. she's never safe walking around a corner or into a room if Kevin is there and in a good mood.

- they're not BEST FRIENDS. like they're not in each others pocket all the time and laughing and joking ALL THE TIME but she can read him like a book. she knows when he's having an off day, or thinking about something too much.

- She also knows when he's being serious and when not to joke around. She knows when he doesn't want cheering up or to joke about something and knows when to back off. The same with him - he knows when she's having a mood that requires being cheered up, or a mood that requires him to leave her the fuck alone.

- He's a big reason why she puts a whole lot more of herself into Exy post tkm. She's always been invested, but once they talk more, and they consider each other friends, she listens to him talking about Exy and it really clicks for her. his dedication. and also how fucking talented he really is. She doesn't do the night training with him but they'll occasionally go to the gym together or start practice a half an hour early to run some basic raven drills.

- They're iconic when they get together to do press after games. they bounce off each other like nothing else. they're just so funny. and he's also like andy murray in that he will ALWAYS defend her, dan, and renee's talent if interviewers start to focus more on him instead of the girls. he'll step in if an interviewer says something shitty or misogynistic. she LOVES directing objectifying and misogynistic questions his way.

- She calls him a bitch and makes fun of him for being a nepo baby. He calls her an asshole and makes fun of her for being a rich kid.

- Have gone to banquets as each others date.

that's just a few random thoughts off the top of my head but yes. Allison and Kevin. Literally the only Two Pretty Best Friends ever to exist.

[flowercrowngods]

🤍🌷 @stevesbipanic and @the-winged-doe asked to see ugly unpolished unrefined words, soo—

cw & tags: past major character death, grief, attempted time-travel fix-it(s), eddie&robin besties || potential wip

Eddie takes a long drag of his cigarette, the biting hot smoke hitting the back of his throat and clawing its way into his lungs, going as deep as he allows and leaving a permanent mark that brings neither relief nor calmness tonight. His fingers shake where they’re pressed to his lips, but the rest of him is unmoving where he sits on the front porch of their new trailer. 

It’s quiet out here. It’s always quiet in Hawkins these days, the city a fucking ghosttown. 

And he knows it’s not because of the one they lost. He knows it’s not because of him. But still the emptiness is stark and the silence oppressivem more so than it ever has been. 

Everyone still looks for him, months later. Dustin still begins to speak, cutting himself off mid-sentence, and Robin still stands with enough space to either side, like she expects him to just show up and invade her space like the home he made for himself in there. 

And somewhere among all that is Eddie. With his very own history. Or, non-history, as it turns out. But history and non-history leave wounds alike, and the memories feel just as real. A small mercy, at the end of the day, for them to feel real when they’re all he has left anymore. 

He takes another drag, not quite exhaling before he obliterates the cigarette and fishes for a new one before the butt even hits the ground. 

Fumbling with the lighter in his pocket, he only gets as far as placing the butt between his lips before a hand snakes into his field of vision to snag it from his mouth. 

“Hey,” he complains halfheartedly but makes no attempt at getting it back, watching instead as Robin comes up to sit beside him, grimacing at the stink of tobacco that must be heavy around him. 

“You’re disgusting,” she says with no real heat behind her words.

Eddie shrugs, because yeah, sure. He’s been called worse things. Robin’s called him worse things. This is her being nice. Her complaininig about his incessant smoking is nothing new. What is new is what she does next, placing the cigarette between her own lips and reaching for the light he’s been holding in a loose grip since she arrived. 

She starts coughing immediately, pulling a face at the disgusting feeling of smoke in her lungs and tobacco on her tongue. But she keeps going. Eddie can only watch in surprise and mild horror. 

“These things’ll kill you,” he says then in an echo of her usual sentiment, aware that he sounds as bewildered as he feels. 

“Well,” Robin says, aiming for casual, but quickly interrupted by a wheeze and a cough that’s almost adorable. “Let them try.” 

Eddie huffs, a pale little smile lingering on his lips as he leans back against the stairs behind him, resting his weight on his forearm to watch her. There is something captivating about her. Eddie always wonders what it is, wants to study her forever. 

Maybe it’s only the lingering traces of Everything Steve Harrington that clings to her every breath, her every move, her every fucking cell, with how much he was a part of her and she of him. Maybe it’s their shared grief that has made Eddie fall a bit in love with her and with the way the moonlight catches in her hair and in the smoke wafting from her cigarette. 

But somehow he refuses to believe that all he loves about her is merely the memory of Steve. 

Robin, in turn, is kind enough to let him stare. Kind enough to let him find out what it is between them. If this friendship is more than a misguided projection of grief and mourning and trauma; more than co-dependence and the obsessive will to keep this one person in your life. This one person who understands. 

After a while of Robin just holding the cigarette between her fingers, becuase no matter how strong her will to self destruct, she never quite got it right with the smoking, Eddie snatches it back before it goes to waste completely. As if pulled in by a string attached to his hollowed out chest, Robin leans back and into him in one smooth motion. It’s too calculated, though, and Eddie can feel how much she sags once she doesn’t have to hold herself up anymore. 

He’ll hold her. It’s fine. She gets to rest if she wants to. God knows she needs it. 

The night is warm for mid-September, but still Robin shakes against him. Eddie holds her closer. 

Silence settles over them, and it’s not an easy one. Silence is never easy anymore, especially with them. He feels so deeply hollow that even the silence echoes in there, creating an ever-present, uncomfortable thrumming of apprehension and anxiety within him. A certain sense of doom, one that can’t quite decide if it’s only an echo itself. 

“I wanna stop time,” Robin says at last, the cigarette long dead between Eddie’s fingers, but he somehow can’t bring himself to flick it away. “I don’t want tomorrow.” 

I don’t ever want a new day. I don’t ever want another tomorrow. I just want Steve. 

They ring in his head still, another echo that only hollows him out further every time it reaches him — Robin, overcome with hysterical grief, screaming and crying, curled up on that hospital floor, her cries quieting down and making Eddie wish she would be loud again, because the quiet was what killed him. The quiet, the whispered words, the declarations that tomorrow could go fuck itself if it came without Steve made him wish, irrationally, desperately, that their roles were reversed. That he could have died and Steve could have lived, and Robin would never have to wish tomorrow never came. 

He’s not entirely sure if she remembers the words, too. If she even said them in this world. 

So he takes a deep breath, breathes away memories and non-histories, feels the heavy weight of his guitar pick hanging around his neck, resting on the scarred flesh of his chest, and tries not to think of the one string left on his acoustic guitar. Tries not to think of his one last attempt. One last try. 

“I know,” he tells her. “Me neither.” 

He peers over her head, lifting his left wrist to check his watch. Ten minutes until midnight. Ten minutes until Steve’s birthday. 

“It’s not tomorrow yet,” he tries lamely, and Robin huffs — the sound wet and bitter and hopeless, making Eddie’s eyes sting. 

“It’s always fucking tomorrow,” she rasps, her voice flat and wavering, and Eddie knows her well enough to know she’s about to cry. And she knows him well enough to do it. 

“I know,” he says again, and reaches for his necklace through his shirt. One more attempt. One more try. One more chance. His eyes burn. 

She turns to him after taking a moment to compose herself, peering up at him through her lashes. 

“Tell me again?” 

His heart falls, the tense apprehension vanishing from the air, bur quickly replaced by something a lot more heavy. Something that looks and smells and feels like grief. 

They both know he’ll do anything she asks. He can’t really bear saying not to her. And not about this, anyway — she’s the only one who knows. 

She’s the one who should have had the chance. 

“Which part?” he asks, holding a new cigarette out for her to light it. She does, and the both follow the flame of the lighter Robin always keeps in her pocket these days. 

She leans forward and takes a drag. Eddie lets her. 

“All of them.“

Eddie sighs, pain welling up inside him, and he closes his eyes against the night sky. “Robbie,” he pleads, but he doesn’t finish his plea. He’ll do it. He’ll do anything she asks. 

But before he starts recounting the tales of how he almost saved Steve Harrington, he finds himself saying something he never thought he’d tell her. 

“There’s one more.” The words hang in the air, and Robin doesn’t react. Has no idea what’s coming; what he’s about to tell her. The guitar pick is heavy on the necklace around his throat. “There’s one more try. One more chance. I’m… I have one more—“ 

He can’t even finish the sentence. Can’t bring himself to say it, lest it all be jinxed forever. He doesn’t want to hope. Wants to carry this weight for all eternity and never think about all those times he failed to save someone he was never meant to save at all. People like Eddie, they’re not made to save anyone. Hell, they can’t even save themselves. 

Steve was supposed to be the one doing the saving. 

And he did. God, he fucking did. But he was never supposed to— 

Cold fingers wrap around his own as Robin fits their hands together. 

“I hate you a little bit for telling me.” 

Eddie nods, trying to focus on the cold hand and the nicotine in his lungs, trying not to let panic and grief and guilt and the heavy weight of one more chance win. “I know.” 

“Hey, Eddie?” Robin says after a while, the silence stretching on, and it’s almost midnight now. “Can you— Would you do something for me?” 

He turns his head, flicking the butt of his cigarette out into the darkness beyond them. “What’s that?” 

“Don’t— Don’t try to, to save him. Don’t— Just… Just maybe, could you celebrate his birthday with him? Make sure he knows he’s… God, make sure he knows he’s loved? Last year, no one really made time on his birthday and we just moved it backwards but God, could you— It’s almost midnight, and—“ 

“Robbie,” Eddie interrupts her, his voice hoarse and wavering, his eyes burning with tears as he tugs her close and holds her to his chest. “You should go. Don’t you wanna…” 

But she’s shaking her head against him with a vehemence that can hardly be misunderstood. 

“No,” she cries, and it’s more of a sob than anything. “I think if I ever saw him again, I’d… I don’t know what I’d do. Burn the whole fucking world to the ground for him or some shit, I can’t— I’d probably just cry all the time and that wouldn’t be helpful, really.” There’s a weak, wet laugh that bubbles out of both of them, and Eddie’s wiping at Robin’s face, drying the tears and making way for new ones to fall. 

“I’d light a fire for you,” Eddie says, the same weak smile on his lips that Robin meets him with now. “Nineteen fucking fires, you hear me?” 

She laughs again, then buries her face in his neck in a way that never quite fit. In a way that Eddie always knew was supposed to be someone else’s neck. 

But he’s not here anymore. And Eddie can’t get him back. No matter how much he aches for it, no matter how much he learned over and over and over again how easy it is to love Steve Harrington and how hard, how fucking impossible it is to lose him. Over and over and over again. 

And to live without him. This one fucking time they all get. It’s not fair. 

And now Robin is asking him to go back one more time and make sure that Steve knows— That he knows. 

Somehow the thought of that feels nobler than any attempt to save him, to bring him back; to rewrite history from a lonely boy’s perspective and hope that no one else is reading along. 

It feels right, too. Fundamentally and suddenly, and with such an intensity that Eddie knows the decision has been made the second he started telling her. 

Still he hesitates. Robin’s sobs have calmed down, and Eddie’s hand finds its way into her hair. 

“Do you really mean it?” 

She nods.

He nods, too, but slower. Like he’s trying to sway himself. Which way, he doesn’t know. 

“Make him happy.” 

“Okay,” he decides after a while, feeling hollow and desperate, but feeling purpose burning underneath his skin again. “One last time.” 

He unwinds his arms from around her and heads inside to grab his acoustic guitar. The last remaining string, badly untuned because he never dared to touch it, stares back at him in both mockery and invitation. A dare. A chance. A promise. 

Outside, Robin is waiting for him, looking anxious. Eddie wants to hug her. He doesn’t, only tightens his grip around the guitar’s neck. 

“Listen, Eddie, if this is goodbye or something—“ 

“It’s a birthday party, Robsie,” he interrupts her, aiming for light, aiming for brave. “I’m coming back right here.” 

“I know,” she rushes to say, taking a step toward him and wringing her hands. It’s endearing. It’s genuine. Eddie really is a little in love with her. “But, y’know, you don’t mess with time, and I don’t know what all you already changed before and I don’t wanna know but… If this is goodbye, if something happens, I just wanna tell you that I’m gonna miss you. And that I think you’re really cool. And that Steve’s— he’s really missing out, okay. Okay?” 

Eddie breathes, taking in her words and letting them soak into his body, his every last fibre. 

“Okay,” he smiles. “Thank you. You’re… I’m kind of in love with you, Robin Buckley. So there had better be no change in the universe, ‘cause that would really suck.” 

They smile at each other, Eddie with his guitar and Robin with her lighter, and somehow this feels like a deja-vu. The antithesis to a moment forever burned into his memory.

Make him pay. 

Make him happy. 

Eddie tugs on his necklace and plays the string before he can think about it too hard; before he can decide otherwise. 

Distantly, he hears the church bells announcing midnight as the world around him fades. 

🤍 permanent tag list gang: @skiddit @inklessletter @aringofsalt @hellion-child @cryptic-cryptid @hotluncheddie @gutterflower77 @auroraplume @steddieonbigboy @n0-1-important @stevesjockstrap @puppy-steve @izzy2210 @itsall-taken @mangoinacan13 @madigoround @pukner @i-amthepizzaman @swimmingbirdrunningrock @hammity-hammer @stevesbipanic @bitchysunflower @estrellami-1 @goodolefashionedloverboi @awkwardgravity1 @devondespresso @bookworm0690 (lmk if you want on or off, for this story or permanently)

[kitnita]

kivi in the handshake line   —   DAL vs COL; game 6   —   05.17.24

[haveihitanerve]

Stephanie Brown hated Galas. Well, that wasn't exactly true. She loved parties of any kind, and technically a Gala was just a big fancy party. More accurately, she hated the people at Galas. The rich, snooty elite who looked down at her with their perfectly straight noses, a polar opposite of her very crooked nose because one can only spend so long as a vigilante and get your nose broken and set so many times before ones nose loses its original shape. Hated them with their fake pitying looks. The whispers about her being just another street rat. Orphan trash. Which wasn't even true, but Steph preferred it to if they knew the truth. All in all, the company at Galas wasn't particularly pleasant. Which is how she found herself huddled in the far corner, nursing a glass of champagne. “You're not old enough to be drinking that.” rumbled a deep voice. Stephanie almost dropped her glass. As it was, it sloshed around enough to spill onto the front of her dress. “Asshole.” Steph hissed, setting the drink aside and reaching for napkins or something. “Cant you just approach like a regular human?” She griped. Bruce Wayne smirked at her, tugging out his own handkerchief to help her. “No bruce, thats your- pocket thingy.” Steph declined, shoving his hand away. “Stephanie.” Bruce let out a sigh of exasperation. “It doesn't matter. Stop- stop, here.” He leaned forward, dabbing at the spill. Steph grumbled, but dropped her hands, letting him work. “What are you even doing in my sulk corner? Shouldn't you be out there- i dunno, bedazzling the guests?” Bruce chuckled lightly, looking up at her from where he was crouched. “Bedazzling? Sulk corner?” He pulled away, satisfied with his work, standing up straight. Steph crossed her arms. “Ah. I see it now.” Steph uncrossed them. Bruce granted her another listen of his laugh. “I wanted to see you.” Steph raised an eyebrow. “You can see me just fine from over there.” Bruce gave her a look. “Come on, you're dancing now.” “what?? No- no Bruce!” she hissed, but it was too late, he had her hand and was dragging her to the dance floor. “Bruce!” Steph hissed through gritted teeth as he swung her around into a dance pose. “Im not supposed to be here!” She whispered as he led her in a circle, one arm securely on her waist the other steadily holding her hand. Bruce raised a perfect brow. (damn him) “Why not?” Steph looked around at the very obvious eyes on the richest man in the room dancing with her. Steph's cheeks flushed. “I don't- im not one of them.” She gestured at the crowd around them before letting it fall back onto his shoulder. Bruce smiled. “I don't care about that Stephanie.” Steph blushed. “No no i know you don't. But they do.” Bruce shrugged. “Who cares what they think? I’m the richest man in this entire room. They're just some elite fuckwads. Fuck them if they cant deal with me dancing with my daughter.” 

Steph gaped at him, eyes wide. “I’m sorry did I just die and am in hell? Does Bruce Wayne say fuck in hell?” Bruce rolled his eyes. “And secondly, when did you adopt me?” Now it was Bruce’s turn for his eyes to go wide. “You mean I haven't already?” He gasped. “You have your own room at the manor and I have a headache that is induced by your presence.” Steph scoffed. “Those are all the requirements?” Bruce shrugged. “I mean theres stuff like, I love you, and I would hate to live in a world without you and all that-” Steph wrinkled her nose. Bruce nodded. “Yeah exactly. So those are the main criteria.” He suddenly looked a little nervous. “Are you saying you don't want to be adopted?” Steph rolled her eyes. “Don't get all sentimental on me now B. I mean, maybe?” She shrugged. “I don't know if I fit the requirement.” Bruce stared at her. “Headache. Induced by your presence.” Steph rolled her eyes. “Not your requirements. I could be a fucking delight or a little gremlin and so long as I looked pathetic enough at certain times you'd be willing to adopt me.” She threw a look over at Damian and Jason. “Actually thats not even a requirement.” Bruce scoffed. “I just meant, their requirements.” Bruce looked confused. “The kids? They all love you. In fact, I think you're the least stabbed out of everyone by Damian.” “No i meant- wait really?” Bruce nodded. “Huh.” Steph glanced back over at him, and indeed, Damian even smiled when she caught his eye.  “Anyways.” Steph sighed. “I meant your friends. Society.” She clarified when it was clear he was about to bring up some bullshit about Clark and Diana. “Ah.” Dawning realization swept over Bruces face. “Yeah.” Steph muttered. “Im afraid your ‘ton’ wont take so kindly to another charity cased street rat.” Bruces hold on her hand tightened and Steph looked up in surprise. “Don't.” Bruces voice was uncharacteristically hard. “Don't ever say that about yourself again Stephanie do you hear me? You are not the insults they call you. If it was acceptable for me to rip out their vocal cords everytime i hear them say that sort of stuff about you, about jason and dick and-” Bruce cut off, breathing hard. “Alfred denies me, although he is no fonder of it.” Steph gave a laugh that sounded suspiciously close to a sob. “Okay.” She whispered. Bruce smiled in relief. But Steph wasn't done. “Okay you can adopt me.” If Steph had any doubts of Bruce’s feelings being untrue, the pure elation on his face just then destroyed any of them. That look of pure joy just couldn't be scripted. And so, under the watching eyes of every elite member in Gotham, she threw herself at his neck, wrapping herself around him in a tight hug. She didn't care anymore. After all, they were just some elite fuckwads.

[robinfollies]

smth smth arthur gets sleepy when it’s cold…

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[spaceratprodigy]

💋 Cybill and Iris 💋

@grimreapersbutt — it is mandatory Looking At Them hours btw

Commission Info | Ko-Fi | My Links

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Besties can't enable pvp on each other, right?

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