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#thanks 4 THA ASK !!!
oohbuggypie · 7 months
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@galactica7071 THIS PROMPT IS SO CUTE I LOOOOVED DOODLING THIS !! fun pose practice .. loose reference images my savior 🩷 hope u love it and thank u sooo much for ur request ! 🥹
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skenpiel · 4 months
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18 for soft asks?
OH. i liked that post 2 save it because i save ask games so i can have like good conversational topics LAWL i didnt mean 2 participate but i will answer anyways ^_^
18. do you still love stuffed animals?
cuddling 3 right now and i have Like a million of them so answer is YES!!!!!!!!!!!!
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eebie · 1 year
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Happy B-Day!! Drew these 4 you #frienship Hope you're having fun on the big 18!!
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kira-kui-n · 10 months
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(Hope I've got this right)
38 for yearly music stats?
yea u got it !
38 is look at us by northern heightz :3 !
youtube
was going to add an unrelated comment a la my original post but this video made me want 2 say something related: i made a reddit account solely to reply to a several year old post by someone on r/tipofmytongue who was tryna remember this song + video. idk if they ever saw my reply and i have not used the account since thumbs up emoji
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kideternity · 7 months
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Would you count Keenan/Ikuto's Digi-dad on the dead parents list? I do understand if you dont see their relationship that way, but he was basically a parental figure
OH MAN I FORGOT MERCURIMON im so sorry Mercurimon…. Yeah if Yukidarumon/Frigimon counts then Mercurimon definitely counts!!!!!! Thank you for reminding me 💖
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dont have aspd but i like never had emotional empathy growing up (yay mix of autism and childhood situations that caused me to unlearn/block off emotional empathy) and i've never felt remorse and i only get small twinges of guilt i can easily brush aside, but i watched drrr at age 17 and showed it to my family and having all of em be like "yo ur just like izaya" (my mum was like "yeah if i hadnt been super careful how i raised u, 100% u would've turned out worse than izaya" which. uh considering before izaya the chara i related most to was azula from atla. fun to hear). and it me caused me to be like "oh shit maybe i should like learn empathy". i didnt realise i had cognitive empathy or that it was even a thing so i spent a few years teaching myself emotional empathy and man it suuuucks. worst decision i ever made. now i spend time being like upset for other ppl? when i used to just, be able to intellectually understand things sucked for them and help em out w/o feeling anything and so i wasnt emotionally bothered/drained afterwards. whereas now i like, spend time crying over other ppl? exhausting and terrible. it hasnt improved me as a person at all, im dont actually care abt things any more than i used to, and i think cognitive empathy is by far the most useful and practical out of the two. im not saying u shouldnt listen to ur therapist, i just kinda wanted to get that off my chest and not be judged?
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WANNA MAKE CLEAR i am not judging u i just have always always always wanted to use this meme for as long as i have known of its existence
and what ur describing is literally exactly why i worry abt emotional empathy and feeling remorse like. maybe i'm fine existing this way. maybe i don't want to be fixed!! i get that itd make me more palatable and easier to get along with or whatever but i'm a person too!! what about me?? everyone will have conflict at some point; what about me makes it so that all chances of that need to be hammered down?? i'm a person too- what about what i feel is right for my own emotional state???
fun facts my fiance liked me partly because i reminded him of izaya. idk if you know enough of my blog to know my Lore but: he knew me for a day thru roleplaying and i wanted to know him outside of a rp context, and he was talking abt liking psychology. i then challenged him to diagnose me, yaknow As You Do, and in a Public Server he went "oh you have aspd, don't you?" totally innocently, he had no idea abt the stigma
i ofc denied it because i wanted him to like me and also was sixteen, but oddly enuf the aspd traits are (partly) Why He Liked Me??? not in a fetishistic way but just like, accepting that was part of my personality that doesnt need to be hammered out and like, not acting like Total Full Remission It's Like It Was Never Even There is the only end goal worth chasing like. maybe i dont wanna fully remiss maybe thats my choice and i have fuckin, command over my own god damned mind body and life!!!???
also fwiw: i dont know the rest of your symptoms but you having autism and the symptoms coming from trauma don't negate the possibility that it's aspd so id suggest looking into it more! even if a therapist said you didnt have it, they can be kinda..... stupid about aspd lmfao! don't look on quora and don't look on reddit nothing good lies behind those walls
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eggwishing · 1 year
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absolutely love the shading in the latest Bec Noir piece and all the others too
THANK YOU SO MUCHHHH WAAAH!!!!!!!
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666-n3k0-666 · 6 months
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4 :3
4. Ever tasted someone else's blood?
oh u absolutely know it! my bf & i do bloodplay pretty often and i love to lick it up. it tastes salty most of the time but sumtiems blood tastes like absolutely nothing if the person iz super hydrated. i luv the taste of it tbfh, the salty copper flavor iz so nice. not 2 mention the fun of bloodplay and knifeplay in general!
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dixons-sunshine · 3 months
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Sweetest | Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader
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Summary: Wounded and benched from runs for the week, Daryl was asked to watch the kids in the prison while you and some of the others worked on repairing a breach in one of the fences. One of the kids asked Daryl how he met you, his wife, and it made for a rather sweet tale.
Genre: Fluff.
Era: Prison, pre season 4.
Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.
Warnings: None.
Word count: 1.6k.
A/n: This turned out worse than I hoped, better than I expected. I don't really know how to explain it, but I hope you like this! (Thank you @ddamm and @dixondystopia for giving me your favourite moments from the entire series to add to this! They were pretty much the same, so great minds truly do think alike, as they say.)
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“Mr Dixon?”
At the sound of his name being called, Daryl looked up from his baby girl and locked eyes with a little girl—Mika, he believed her name was—who was staring at him with a big smile. “Yeah?” he replied, slightly bouncing his knee when Hazel began fussing a little.
Mika giggled slightly, sharing a look with her sister, Lizzie, before turning back to the archer. “Mrs Dixon is your wife, right?” she inquired, bouncing slightly on her feet.
Daryl's lips involuntarily twitched up at the mere mention of you. He nodded and shrugged his shoulders. “Yeah? Why do ya ask?”
“Well, my dad likes to talk about how he met my mom. Mr Greene has told us how he met his last wife a million times. We wanna know how you met Mrs Dixon!”
Almost as if for added emphasis, the other children all perked up and voiced their interest in knowing the tale of how Daryl met you, his beautiful wife. The archer, both amused by the children's nosiness and embarrassed by the metaphorical spotlight he was placed under, let out a small scoff and adjusted Hazel in his arms, allowing the small girl to happily toy with his fingers. “It ain't some big love story or nothin'. It'll only bore ya.”
“No, it won't,” Carl added from his position atop one of the tables. The teenager had been sulking because Rick had forbade him from helping fix the breach in the fence—where several walkers had managed to crawl through—but the chance of getting to know some insight to one of the most talked about couples in the prison brightened his mood somewhat. You and Daryl were the only couple that dated back before the outbreak, and everyone was eager to know how the two of you got together, and how you managed to keep that spark alive. “We wanna know. Come on, Daryl. Please.”
Daryl let out a small groan and rolled his eyes at the young Grimes' insistence. “Why dun' y'all go pester Glenn or somebody? M'sure he'd be more than happy to tell y'all 'bout how he met Maggie.”
“But he's told us that story a zillion times already,” one of the kids groaned. “We wanna hear your story. Please, Mr Dixon.”
Daryl let out a deep sigh. From somewhere behind him, he could hear Carol chuckle, closely followed by the chuckles of a few of the adults that were taking a break from their chores around the prison. Daryl shook his head and pursed his lips. “Y'all really wanna hear?” Almost instantly, all of the kids perked up and simultaneously voiced their clear interest, trying to talk over the other. Daryl raised his eyebrows and let out a small chuckle. “Woah, calm down. I ain't sayin' nothin' 'til y'all quiet down.” And just like that, it got so quiet, one could hear a pin drop. “Y/n and I go back many years, long 'fore all'a y'all kids were born. We're closin' in on three decades'a knowin' one another.”
“Thirty years?” Carl voiced in a disbelieving tone. “That's basically forever!”
Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “Guess ya can say tha', yeah.” Daryl shushed Hazel when she began fussing a bit, lightly tickling her stomach to coax a laugh from her. “We met when we were twelve, 'side this river in the woods outside the trailer park we lived in. I admit, I didn't know wha' to think'a her at first. Refused to talk to her fer a whole month, but she never gave up. She kept pesterin' me 'til one day, somethin' happened and I broke my quiet facade. Tha's when we started becomin' friends.” Daryl stopped and tried to hide the smile that spread across his face, but to no avail. “She, uh... She quickly became my best friend after tha'.”
“When did you start love-liking her?” one of the kids asked with a giggle, closely followed by the mischievous laughter of the other kids.
Daryl hummed and shrugged. “After she did somethin' fer my sixteenth birthday. I liked her fer a while 'fore tha', but tha' occasion was my wake-up call. My feelin's fer her slapped me righ' in the face tha' day.” He stopped and let out a small sigh before continuing. “I didn't have the balls to confess to her fer 'nother year after tha'. And when I did confess, it was righ' after we went and bought pa—” Daryl cut himself off, painfully aware of the immature teenage boys that would freak out over the mere mention of pads. Because of that, he altered the truth a little. “...Pasta fer dinner tha' nigh'. Things escalated and we kissed, and then her mom walked in.”
“No,” Beth gasped, slightly tightening her grip on Judith as she thought of the embarrassing scenario.
Daryl chuckled and shrugged. “It was embarrassin' as shi—crap, tha's fer sure, but we lived. Her mom was nice 'bout it all. Definitely didn't mean we could escape her teasin', though.” He pursed his lips as he thought of that moment, the embarrassment still fresh in his mind, even all those years later. “Her teasin' got even worse when Y/n and I eloped. She was kinda upset 'bout it, but she soon went straight back to teasin' us fer not bein' able to wait to have a proper weddin'.”
By that point, unbeknownst to the archer, the group that had been working on fixing the fence—a group that included you—had silently stepped into the part of the prison everyone was in to alert the kids to the fact that they could go play. However, once they heard what the crossbow-wielding man was talking about, they stopped and remained quiet, eager to hear about it all. And you stayed quiet as well, quite shocked that your husband was willingly telling stories about his past with you. He preferred to keep that part of his life private, but there he was, happily talking away. It made your heart swell with love and affection for the man.
“The two of you stayed together for all those years?” Zach—Beth's boyfriend—asked, leaning against the wall. When Daryl nodded, he continued. “How?”
Daryl shrugged and adjusted his daughter in his arms again, feeling her head begin to droop as she was beginning to fall asleep. “I love 'er. And fer some reason I still don't understand 'til this day, she loves me. Ain't tha' hard to stay committed to the person ya love the most. Relationships ain't always all sunshines and rainbows, but when yer with the person ya love, s'all worth it. Y/n taught me tha'. She's the sweetest person ever. I dun' know wha' I did to deserve her, but I thank my lucky stars every day tha' I get to call her mine.”
It went silent after that. The only sound that could be heard was the distant sound of walkers groaning outside the fences. That is, until Rick spoke up from behind the huntsman, startling him and alerting him to the fact that essentially everyone had heard him practically rave about you.
“Well said, brother. Well said,” Rick complimented him, a faint, teasing smile on his face. He turned towards the younger ones in the group and gestured towards the door. “Y'all can go play now. Just stay away from the fences.” And just like that, all the kids—except Carl—had forgotten their need to hear about Daryl's love story with you. They all excitedly darted out the door, their laughter fading as they disappeared out the doors.
Michonne smirked, playfully hitting you on the back. “Y/n, you never told me you found such a keeper. And you found him early on, too. You're so lucky.”
“Yeah, she is,” Carol chipped in, a teasing smile on her face as well. “Did I ever tell you about this one guy in our old camp that insulted her and Daryl instantly put him on his ass? He did accidentally reveal her pregnancy while doing so, but that's besides the point.”
“Was it Shane?” Rick asked, sighing when Carol nodded. “Yeah, of course it was,” he mumbled while he shook his head.
“Not to mention how he nearly killed Jenner because he wouldn't let us out—well, wouldn't let them out. He didn't care much for us back then. We all know he only wanted the doors open so that Y/n was safe,” Glenn piped in.
“Aw,” Michonne cooed teasingly. “That is so sweet, Daryl. You're just a big teddy bear.”
Daryl ducked his head in embarrassment as the others joined in on the teasing as well. He could feel his cheeks flush, and he would've gotten up and bolted from the embarrassing situation, had it not been for the fact that Hazel had just fallen asleep, and he didn't want to wake her.
The feeling of your hand being rested on his shoulder almost instantly made him calm down, your familiar touch bringing a sense of comfort to him. The rest of the group were to busy relaying their favourite moments they had seen between the two of you to notice this interaction, and the archer was glad about that. He was also glad that they couldn't hear what you whispered in his ear, because although Daryl Dixon wasn't a selfish man, the others didn't have to hear these words you clearly meant just for him:
“I'm proud of you. You climbed out of your shell today and did something I know you don't always enjoy doing. You're amazing, Daryl Dixon, and I love you so much.” You placed a soft, tender kiss on his cheek. “You really are the sweetest person ever.”
©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.
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wondersinwaynemanor · 4 months
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imagine some Gothamites pretending to be in trouble or hurt and calling for a specific bat just because they have a crush on them, but the batkids purposely mess it up by sending another bat.
they also do this because they're little shits.
[i told myself i won't make this too long, but oh well]
scenario 1:
a woman, who's not even in trouble, she mostly wants to see Nightwing's new suit because.. oh.. the new suit causes his behind to form well.
Woman: Nightwing, Nightwing! Where are you? I need help.
Robin! Tim, hops down from the tall building and mind you, his skateboard tucked under his arm: Hi, Ma'am! Sorry, Nightwing is unavailable tonight. I, Robin, will help you.
Woman, judges the skateboard before looking at Tim: Uh. Thank you, Robin, but I was specifically asking for Nightwing. Is he- he around?
Robin! Tim, cheeks red from the cold, shakes his head: No, Ma'am. Sorry.
Woman: That's... That's okay. I'll figure out my problem on my own. Thank you again, kid.
Robin! Tim nods at her way before climbing back up the building.
Nightwing appears from the darkness, laughing his ass off. Tim joins his older brother until their stomach ache from the laughing session.
--
scenerio 2:
young teenage girl with pink highlights on her hair bikes through the neighborhood and out of nowhere, just falls down on the side of the road, on the grass. but gently. purposely.
Teenager, holds her ankle: Ow, ow. Is The-The Signal around? I kind of.. Uh... Fell.
Robin, comes out from the trees and he looks even brighter than ever with the sun still out: That was kind of careless of you.
Teenager, a bit annoyed: Robin? Don't you only patrol at night? Where's The Signal?
Robin, adjusts his katana and shrugs: You'd be surprised that I happen to do this at morning too. Well. Occasionally.
Teenager, skeptical: Uhuh.
Robin just stares at her, not even answering about The Signal. it makes the teenager a bit uncomfortable.
Teenager, manages to stand: Anyways... I think I feel better now. I'll head home.
Robin, lips twitching to a smirk: Stay safe.
behind the trees, Duke and Tim giggle like little children.
Robin: I must admit.. That was quite hilarious.
--
scenario 3:
two loud men exit the bar. they've been talking about Spoiler and Black Bat inside, fangirling like teenagers about their crushes.
little did they know, Red Hood was inside that bar as well.
Man 1: Fuck, I'm too drunk. Is Spoiler there? I need help to go home.
they are not even drunk.
Man 2, hides a smile behind his hand: How about Black Bat? We poor men need some saving.
before they can even lift their mouths to laugh, Red Hood apprears from the alley, gun on his hand.
Red Hood, voice so deep from the helmet: Need a lift, boys? There's enough room for both of you on my bike.
Man 1 gulps and Man 2 nearly passes out.
Red Hood, smirks: Not the person you wanted to see, huh?
Man 1: Uh.... You are a sight to see, Red Hood. Uh, Sir.
Man 2: But no, tha-thank you.
Man 1: We can manage. Right, dude?
Man 2: Right. Of course.
Red Hood, wants to laugh so bad but he has to keep this persona first: Well, let me know if you need anything.
both men run to the other direction. one of them even trips.
Red Hood hears Steph and Cass' lively laughs through the comms.
--
scenario 4:
a young adult man steps outside his building, doesn't mind the drizzle from the Gotham sky.
Man: Shit. I forgot my keys.
Man, looks up at the building: Is Red Robin out there? I need help in finding the keys to my apartment.
there's no sign of the vigilante so the man decides to just re enter his building.
out of nowhere, a sound of someone landing behind him makes him turn around and he is faced with Black Bat, holding his keys around her gloved hand.
Man, shocked: Um.. Hey. You found- you found my keys.
Black Bat doesn't respond, just lifts the keys higher.
Man: Tha-thank you.
Black Bat nods before grappling to the darkness.
the young man feels stupid for doing what he did, which is throw his keys behind the dumpster. and he didn't even get to see Red Robin.
somewhere, Black Bat joins Spoiler and Red Robin on top of a building to share some laughs and enjoy some Batburgers.
--
scenario 5:
a couple of bestfriends, woman and man, stop by at the side of the road. they were gossiping about Red Hood's arms, modulated voice and height, saying how sexy he looks.
out of stupidity, the man stabs his switchblade on one of the wheels of his car.
Woman, nods at him before calling for help: Someone help us! We don't have a spare tire.
Man, heart beating so fast: Red Hood, can you please help us? Red Hood!
after a few minutes of longing, Nightwing, Spoiler and The Signal appear from behind their car, startling the two of them.
Nightwing, grins cheekily: Good evening.
Signal, smiles: You called for help?
Spoiler, huge smile on her face with a spare tire on her hand: Glad we saw this lying around.
it's actually a spare tire at the back of the man's car.
the woman and man exchange glances, slightly nervous.
Man, touches his chest: Oh, thank goodness.
Woman, pretends to be in relief as well: Thank God for you, guys. We appreciate it.
Signal and Spoiler help each other in putting the tire.
Nightwing, grin hasn't faded: Sorry, the Red Hood is a bit busy tonight.
Signal: Maybe try calling out for him some other time?
Spoiler: We would give his number to you, but he's kind of a private person.
both the woman and man blush, embarassment creeping on them.
by the alley, Red Hood watches the rest of the batkids, a low chuckle on his lips.
--
a bonus:
a bunch of teenagers play around under the rain, splashing mud on their clothes. one of the blonde girls call out, "Robin, come play with us!" then the rest of her playmates giggle at that. they idolize the young hero.
and who comes out of the darkness? the rest of the batkids except for Robin. they make sure that the children are able to go home and are safe.
meanwhile, Damian is at the Manor with a stuffy nose as he is sick due to playing with his pets under the rain last weekend.
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lushrue · 3 months
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hockeyteam!141 x figureskater!reader pt 3
thank you all a million times over for all your love on this series! comment to be added to the taglist and send some asks my way if you have a scenario that you wanna see these characters in, i eat it up!!
cw: drinking
part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6 | part 7 | part 8
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price stood at the center of the face-off circle, his stick resting on his knees as he sized up his opponent. it was the third period and the score was tied 2-2. price’s team was on the power play after the visiting team had received a two minute minor for slashing. figured, he thought. they’d been playing dirty all night; the ref just finally saw fit to call them on it. it was two minutes where they had the upper hand, two minutes to take advantage of their strength in numbers. he adjusted his stick in his grip, looking over his shoulder to make sure gaz and soap were in position before turning his attention back to the face off. he inhaled, and on the exhale, the sound of rubber smacking the ice hit his ears.
price gained control, taking the puck down the ice into the opposing team’s zone. he glanced to his left, meeting soap’s eyes before making a pass. soap received it, the puck smacking off his stick as he took up position on his side of the ice. a defenseman skated towards him, poised to try for a steal. but soap was ready. he made quick eye contact with gaz, sending the puck sliding his way. gaz took advantage of the fact that no one was on his ass, taking it and skating ever closer to the opposing goal. price was lined up, ready to go. it was the perfect position for a slapshot straight over the goal line. the goalie wasn’t watching his right flank, still preoccupied with gaz skating towards him. perfect. gaz made the pass, simon smacked the opposing defenseman into the boards to stop his approach, and price swung. the puck slid over the line before the goalie even knew what happened, setting the buzzer blaring.
through it all, you were watching in the stands. their coordination on the ice was enough to show you why they were first line, why laswell trusted them more than anyone else to get the game started on the right foot and to end it just as smoothly. you were one of the first on your feet after the goal, shouting and clapping. soap skated past price, giving him a congratulatory knock on the helmet as gaz held up his glove for a fist bump. simon gave price a thump on the back, skating behind him as they returned to the bench. “good shot, cap,” he shouted over the music, stepping off the ice as the second line stepped in to relieve them.
you smiled and waved as soap turned to meet your eyes. you’d taken to sitting right behind the bench, making your presence known to them rather than blending into the crowd like you’d done before. soap winked before nudging kyle, who tapped simon’s helmet, who elbowed price. soon, all four sets of eyes were on you. you blushed under the weight of their collective gazes, but managed to collect yourself enough to give them two thumbs up. price chuckled, nodding his head in thanks at your gesture. soap tugged his helmet off, the sweat making the longer strands of his mohawk stick to his forehead. “come out with us after tha game!” he called, his voice slightly muffled by the plexiglass. you didn’t even hesitate. “yeah, ‘course i will!”
it was a handy victory after that, simon managing to eke out a goal of his own before the game was over. this win would move them up in the league rankings, signal to everyone else that they’re a force to be reckoned with. with an ever-rotating roster of fresh blood, rebuilding years were bound to happen. but now they were on the rebound, and it felt better than any vice they indulged in. 
that wasn’t going to stop them tonight, though. the four of them stepped out of the locker room to find you waiting, your coat draped over your arms. your eyes were glued on your phone, a familiar crutch to pass the time. the moment you heard soap and gaz’s jovial chatter, your head snapped up, meeting the eyes of your victorious men. you flashed them a smile and a little wave, closing the distance between all of you. “that was a really good game tonight,” you said sincerely, your eyes flicking between the four of them. it wasn’t just a win for one of them, it was a win for all of them. you wanted to make sure they all felt properly congratulated.
“thanks, dove,” price replied, a smile of his own threatening to show through. usually, his mind was racing with thoughts of how they could improve, what they could’ve done better. but not tonight. tonight was for celebrating, and he wasn’t going to let his overactive mind get in the way of that. gaz chimed in, putting his hand on price’s shoulder. “well, it helped havin’ our good luck charm in the stands. didn’t it, cap?” his pointed glance settled on you as price chuckled, your cheeks flushing a pretty shade of pink. their good luck charm. how about that? “good point, kyle,” price said. the weight of their eyes boring into you threatened to overwhelm you, like the tide overtaking the shore.
thankfully, johnny’s scottish brogue broke the tension. “did’ja see my assist in the second period, bonnie?” he asked, shouldering past gaz to be closer to you. you couldn’t help but laugh a little, nodding at him as you clutched your coat a little closer to your body. “yeah, i did,” you reply. you also hadn’t missed the way he skated with more gusto after that, knowing that you’d seen him. “it was impressive. you all work so well together out there.” simon finally made his presence known, shifting on his feet beside price. “yeah, we’ve worked really hard to get ourselves there,” he said, sounding proud of the progress they'd made as a team. you notice kyle and johnny exchange a glance, but you can’t quite read it. there’s something there under the surface, something that goes beyond the game.
before you can spare it a second thought, price places his hand on your shoulder, guiding you out the doors of the ice rink. “c’mon, dove. we’ll take my truck.”
it’s around your third mixed drink that you start to get a little more comfortable.
they’ve paid for the last two rounds for you, indulging whatever fruity concoction you find yourself craving. they took you to the one good bar for miles where the air was free of stale cigarette smoke and depression. the five of them weren’t the rowdiest table by far, but they were holding their own. the boys carried on their own conversations in the background, chattering loudly about the game. as you sip at your vodka cranberry, your attention is on kyle’s phone screen as he swipes through pictures of his family. “and tha’s my brother, steven. he’s got a wife and kid. haven’t seen ‘im in a while, they live kinda far.” soap nudges him, causing his phone to nearly tumble into his pint of guinness. “don’ bore the poor lass,” he says, his words already starting to slur a little. johnny was drinking whiskey, which hit a little harder than the beers that his teammates were nursing. no wonder he was on his way to being three sheets to the wind.
you blush and shake your head, giving kyle a reassuring glance. “it’s not boring, i promise. i like getting to know you all. it’s what friends do, right?” friends. you hadn’t stopped to think about it before, but you supposed you’d fully entered friend territory with all of them. you’d come to watch them play multiple times now, and they’d come and watched you skate. not only that, they’d stayed for both your programs and stuck around when the final rankings were posted. mere acquaintances didn’t do that. 
your words seemed to strike some chord in each of them as the hum of their side conversations abruptly stopped. you caught price smirk over the rim of his glass as he took a swig of his drink, his posture confident with his shoulders back and chest forward. johnny looked at you like you’d hung the moon and stars just for him, but only for a moment. kyle’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, like he hadn’t expected you to perceive them as friends. and simon, as usual, was hard to read, but you were getting there. there was a tightness in his expression that spelled unease to you. you faltered, opening your mouth to backtrack before price waved a hand to cut you off.
“nah, the bird’s right, johnny. guess we should know some things about each other if we’re gonna be friends.” his smirk remained, his eyes now fixed on you. maybe it was the alcohol talking, but you could swear you saw a glint of hunger in his eyes. you swallowed, desperate to ignore the electric thrill that struck your core. “why don’t you start us off, love? we wanna know more ‘bout ya,” he said, leaning back against the booth seating and staring you down expectantly. you clear your throat and take another long drink from your glass. you’d need some liquid courage for all this.
“well, i’ve been skating since i was little. i’ve loved it for as long as i can remember.” the memories brought a smile to your face. you recalled sitting in front of the television set, cross-legged as you watched the figure skaters dance on the ice in your ballerina dress. your dad sat next to you, telling you that that could be you someday. you certainly hadn’t competed in any olympics, but you were proud of the level you’d achieved. johnny chuckled, his hand coming to rest on your thigh. it sent a bloom of warmth through you and your cheeks flushed crimson. “somethin’ besides the ice, bonnie,” he said playfully. “we wanna know you, not the skater.”
you composed yourself quickly after being startled at his touch, settling into the casual display of affection. glances were once again exchanged, but this time, it was price and simon. “umm…my favorite color’s green,” you said, looking between johnny and kyle for approval, to see if this was what they wanted. when you got a nod in reply, you decided to continue. you told them about your favorite foods, family vacations, the artists that were on heavy rotation in your car radio. they seemed to hang on your every word, letting the aura of you seep into their bones so they’d never forget it.
the more you drank, the more you talked. so price kept the drinks flowing.
kyle drove you home in price’s truck, your swaying body sandwiched between ghost and soap. johnny had an arm around your shoulders to keep you steady and simon had his hand on your arm for comfort. you’d been drunker in your life, but you certainly had a good thing going. all this contact from attractive men was only fueling the fire, butterflies stirring in your belly that weren’t born of alcohol. you muttered things you knew you wouldn't remember in the morning, something about how warm their bodies were and how good they looked in their pads and gear. they were gentlemen, of course. their touches remained innocent as they walked you to your door and made sure you got in safely, staying until they heard the lock click. they had to be satisfied that you were secure for the night.
as the four of them piled back in the truck and headed back down the road, it was simon who broke the silence first. “we gotta have her, yeah?” he said, his voice a rumble that harmonized with the engine. kyle and johnny didn’t respond, looking to their captain for a response. ultimately, he made the final call. price hummed, his head falling back against the headrest of the passenger seat.
“yeah, think we do.”
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taglist: @cadotoast @jupiternighties @hxnneydew
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sweetcyberangel · 6 months
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Baby, I'm yours
Bouncer!Abby x Reader > PART ONE Synopsis: Abby takes you on a date <3 tags/Warnings: 1.6k words, fluff fluff fluff, there’s a bottle of wine, Abby rides a motorbike, reciprocated lesbian pining, there’s like a tiny bit of sexual tension, they kiss!! This is so self indulgent.
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Every notification that ran through Abby’s apartment sent her rushing over to her phone, face dropping in disappointment each time. Biting her lip, she scolds herself for being so impatient after only meeting you the night before. I mean, who is to say you even want to message her? You were still a bit hazy at the time she said goodbye and maybe you woke up and realized you had no interest in her. With a frustrated groan she plops down on her couch, laying her head on the back of it to stare blankly at the ceiling. Why can she not get you out of her head? 
The entire morning you had been pacing back and forth in your bedroom, your socks padding against the floors with each step. Seriously, why was this so difficult? She clearly was interested in you; otherwise, why would she have given you her number? Sitting on the edge of the bed and reaching for your phone, you stare at the screen in an attempt to will yourself into just sending the message. Your fingers reach for her contact, dancing along the keyboard. Typing, deleting, typing, deleting. Every message either came out weird or too forward or seemingly uninterested. Seriously, it's been WAY too long since you’ve been into anyone. 
Finally you settled on a simple “hey! it’s the girl from last night, thanks for the ride home”. A reply gets sent back almost instantly. 
Hearing another notification, Abby pushes down the excitement bubbling up, telling herself to stop being so desperate but when she sees a text from an unknown number, she leaps to answer it. “Hey!! It’s really no problem, I’m glad you got home safe :)” 
A week of exchanging messages back and forth, gradually getting to know one another through gentle questions and sweet remarks ends with Abby finally asking the question she’s wanted to ask since you both started talking. 
“Hey, no pressure of course but if you are free any time soon i’d love to take you on a date”
“i’d love to! i’m free tomorrow?” 
“Sounds perfect, can I pick you up at 4? I have somewhere I’d love to take you.”
The following evening arrives in a flurry of butterflies residing permanently in your stomach. You smooth out your dress for the hundredth time, glancing between your reflection in the mirror and phone lighting up with a text from Abby. 
“On my way now, see you soon :)” 
Your heart hammers in your chest at the thought of seeing her again, though this time under intentional circumstances. 
Around twenty minutes later a gentle knock sounds at the door. Taking a steadying breath you mentally prepare yourself, straightening your posture before swinging the door open smoothly. Abby stands before you, hands stuffed hesitantly into the pockets of her leather jacket. Your eyes scan over her, her features are softer in the daylight. You can see the freckles on her pale cheeks that weren’t visible the night you had met. 
“Hey” she smiles, tone gentle and timid in contrast to her tough exterior. You return her smile. “Hi! come in while I grab what I need.” Stepping aside you allow her room to enter, closing the door behind her broad frame. 
Abby rocks on her heels, eyes wandering your home, taking in the decorations you have around. Her eyes land on a picture of you and - who she assumes - are your friends. A small “cute” is mumbled under her breath. “So, where are you taking me?” You inquire, curiosity piqued as you walked over to her. Her expression turns sheepish. 
“I, uh, packed us a little picnic. Figured we could watch the sunset in the park, if that’s okay?” Her words lift at the end in question, anxious she may have planned too much too soon. 
(Lesbians, can’t be casual about anything)
Your eyes are soft and earnest as you reply. “I’d really like that. Thank you, Abby” Hearing her name spoken so sweetly off your tongue gives her a surge of confidence, so she extends her hand for you to take.
As you walk out to her bike, she hands you a helmet as well as a jacket, much more prepared for a second passenger this time. Her bike roars to life beneath you once more.
All too soon the scenery blurs to a halt, Abby kicking the stand down and guiding you off with care. You watch as she lifts her helmet off, blonde strands of hair falling in front of her face. She leads you through a trail into a secluded spot, before reaching into her bag and gently spreading a blanket across the grass. There are small flowers spread across the grassy field, a river running in front of your spot. You watch in wonder as a swan glides across the water.
The sky is awash with lavenders and oranges, not a cloud in sight, and you understand now why she chose this place. It takes your breath away. 
“Abby, this is too sweet,” You say warmly, and she turns to you with a smile, shrugging her shoulders.
Wordlessly, she begins unpacking the food she had prepared. Fruits, cheeses, crackers, and some small pastries and desserts before pulling out an expensive bottle of red wine and two glasses.
Abby sits close but not too near, patient and watching with care untainted by expectation or want. “This is beautiful, Abby.”
Her smile is soft, eyes crinkling at the corners. “I’m glad you like it.” 
You reach over and pick up a cherry, placing it between your lips. It’s sweet and perfectly ripe. As you bite into it you feel the juice trickle down your chin, but before you can reach to wipe it away Abby's fingers are swiping away at your bottom lip, and when you look up at her she chuckles under her breath. “So messy”. She says it absent-mindedly, with no implication or second meaning, but your mind fogs up. Doe eyes meeting hers, she watches your pupils expand and a cocky grin graces her lips before she lifts her fingers to her lips, sucking the cherry juice off before going back to looking out at the water. Your breath catches in your throat and your teeth press softly into your lip before following her gaze out to the stream. you soak in the tranquil setting drenched in the warmth of the setting sun. 
Tentatively, you shift closer till your sides are pressed together, both as a search for warmth in the cool dusk air and the want for closeness you feel building deep inside you. Abby smiles at the movement, curling a strong yet tender arm around your waist. Her calloused fingers trace absent patterns along your hip bone through the fabric, sending tingles up your spine. 
The rest of the sunlight you have is spent like this, voices soft and conversations filled with laughter. Absent-mindedly your hands reach for the one sitting on your waist, bringing it into your vision to trace gentle lines against it. 
As darkness falls, the air cools slightly and you can't help the small shiver that runs through you. Abby's arms tighten protectively at the action, as if on instinct.
"You cold?" she whispers softly, her breath ghosting along your hairline. You nod in response, not wishing to disturb the serenity with unnecessary noise.
Without a word she reaches behind you both, pulling the leather jacket from her shoulders and draping it around your own. The lingering warmth from her body seeps into you, that smell of pinewood invading your senses again.
As stars form above your heads, Abby turns to you as she gently squeezes your side “I should probably get you home”. You nod, silently praying that you’ll get to see her again soon. 
She packs any leftover food back into her backpack and you fold up the picnic blanket. All the effort that she put into this… It’s more than anyone’s ever done for you before. No one had ever put so much effort into their time with you, or been so delicate with you. 
Taking your hand once more, Abby walked with you to where her bike was parked near a line of trees. She helped you swing your leg over to settle in behind her before starting the engine with a rumble.
Being on her motorbike is becoming more familiar now, less nerve wrecking. 
All too soon, her motorcycle rolled to a stop in front of your house. Abby cut the ignition and swung her leg over to dismount before turning to help you off as well. Fingers curled together, you walked the few steps to your front porch in comfortable silence.
Stopping outside your front door, you turn to face her, smiling up at her with warmth spreading over your cheeks. 
“Thank you for letting me take you out,” Abby said softly, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear in a tender gesture. You leaned into her touch instinctively, a smile spreading on your lips.
Abby gazed at you with such fondness and care that it made your heart swell. Slowly, ever so slowly, she seemed to gravitate closer until there was barely any space left between your bodies. Her eyes flickered down to your lips in a silent question.
In answer, you slid your arms up around her neck and closed the final distance, pressing your mouth to hers in a gentle kiss. Abby's hands found your waist, holding you steady as she kissed you back sweetly. Her lips were soft and confident against your own.
Abby placed one last fleeting kiss to your lips before stepping back reluctantly. "Goodnight, beautiful. Sleep well," she murmured, caressing your cheek softly. You beamed at the new pet name.
"Goodnight, Abby. Text me when you get home safe." With that, you unlocked the door and slipped inside with a ball of light beneath your chest. 
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eebie · 9 months
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hey eebler. toast carbohydrate here......... when i want to draw something but i feel too tired or whatever i look at your art and Stuff and then i go "I.... NEED..... TO..... DRAAAAAAAW!!!!!!!!!!" and then i WILL draw.... i thik that is so cool. thank you eggboy
GAWHOGUHGHGH>.....GODDD THIS IS SOOOO CUTEEEEE.... BLUSHES AND PUTS THIS IN A HEART LOCKET>...........
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starkidmunson · 8 months
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glitter & crimson
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7
It’s both exciting and terrifying to be in Chicago when they arrive Thursday afternoon. This is, unfortunately, very often as close to hometown shows as the band gets to these days. They have the night off, before the show tomorrow, when the band will find out if Steve and his friends actually show up to the gig or not. Despite not having a show, the band doesn’t get the whole day off; Paige had booked a few radio interviews before the gig to drum up attention.
He should have seen it coming when the radio host brought up the TikTok exchange. “So, be honest, have you guys coordinated with Harrington and his friends to get him to your show tomorrow?” 
“Not really. Our manager sent info and Steve gave it a thumbs up, but that’s really been it? But we’ve been busy with shows almost every night, and he’s had a lot of travel games the last few days, so we’ll have to wait and see if he’s able to make it out.” Jeff takes over the answer with ease, probably having predicted the attention.
“Did you really not recognize him, Eddie?” The host goads and Eddie lets himself chuckle.
“It may sound kind of ridiculous, but the genuine answer is yeah. I haven’t seen him in, like, 6 years. And, believe it or not, we didn’t exactly run in the same crowds. We knew of one another, I think, but there were hundreds of kids in our school.” Eddie always defaults to the truth in interviews; it’s the simplest route and leaves less room for people to poke holes in the narrative if he’s just honest.
“Will you guys be going to the Blackhawks game on Saturday?”
“We’ll just have to wait and see, man,” Gareth laughs, and just as quickly as the segment started, it’s over with their own latest hit playing them out of the studio.
A Thursday night off in the city wasn’t the most exciting thing in the world, but the band collectively made a trip to the bar closest to their hotel for wings and a few drinks. One of the guys must have posted something on social media about being out because as Eddie’s walking into his hotel, he happens to check his TikTok to find a message waiting for him.
harrington94 should I take it personally that you guys went out in my town and didn’t ask for recs or anything? 
eddiecc I honestly figured you’d be too busy and didn’t want to bother you.
harrington94 never too busy to show a friend around town. But I do appreciate having a down day, so thanks. 
Eddie wasn’t entirely sure how to answer as he processed Steve’s message. Friends? Is that what they were? Could they even really consider one another that? He ultimately decided not to think too much of it, in favor of keeping the conversation going. Maybe the more they talked, the less awkward the next two nights would be.
eddiecc I totally get it if you want to skip the show in favor of another down day.
harrington94 no backing out on me now, Munson. I’ve finally got the cool card with the Party. We’ll be there, no doubt.
Eddie feels a little smile creep over his face and his ears feel a little warm, but before he can answer that, text bubbles pop up again. He waits to see what else Steve is going to say before he does something embarrassing.
harrington94 now feels like a safe time to confess that I haven’t really listened to much of your music, though, so don’t think I’m rude if I’m not headbanging along with the boys.
That was more like the interaction Eddie had expected from their TikTok exchange. He never expected Steve to know their music and was shocked he even knew their band name when his response had been posted on TikTok.
eddiecc I honestly cannot exactly say I’m surprised to hear this. You never exactly struck me as a headbanger, anyway.
harrington94 i feel like that’s some kind of thinly veiled insult that I’m missing, but you’re not wrong.
The text bubbles appear again, and Eddie waits for him to finish the thought rather than respond.
harrington94 why don’t you text me instead? It feels easier than paying attention to this app I don’t really know how to use.
Eddie was quick to copy the number Steve sent and shoot off a text, weirdly enjoying the exchange the two were having and not ready to call it a night just yet.
__________
A particularly ridiculous meme from Eddie had Steve snorting from his spot lounging across the sofa. The next thing he knew, a pillow was flying at his face. He was able to react quickly enough to block it with his arm, dropping the phone to his chest, before glaring at Robin. She was watching him from the recliner across the living room.
“What the fuck?” He asks, tossing the pillow back in her general direction, more gently than she’d tossed it his way.
“You’re grinning at your phone like you’re setting up a hot date. Please don’t tell me you’re talking to Heidi again.” Robin pleads dramatically, twisting her body in the chair to face him. 
“I’m not grinning at my phone, shut up.” He grumbles, ignoring how hot his neck feels as he blushes. Instead, he picks his phone back up to finish the thought he’d been typing before he’d been interrupted. “I’m just texting with Eddie, that’s all.”
Robin’s eyes widened immediately, and she sprung from the recliner toward the sofa. “Give me your phone!” She demands, grunting as she fell face first into the sofa, missing Steve by an inch. He manuveres away from her without looking up from his phone, making his way down the hall to his room. “Steve, come on!”
“It’s not a big deal! We’re just talking! It’s fine!” He insists, tucking the phone into his back pocket as he turns into his bedroom.
But maybe it was a big deal? Steve couldn’t tell; this was the part he was never really good at. He had a tendency to miss signs everyone else thought were obvious, and he didn’t want to risk making things weird with Eddie if Robin thought he was missing something that wasn’t actually there. The texts with Eddie had shifted from Steve confessing his knowledge of Corroded Coffin was strictly limited to whatever the Party played in the car when he drove them places, to Eddie confessing he knew next to nothing about hockey. It seemed to level the playing field between the two of them, and at least made Steve feel more at ease about the time they’d be spending together between the concert and the game. 
When Steve had asked how the tour was going so far, Eddie had shared a link to an instagram, where fans were finding something to meme from each night of the shows. To which Jeff and Gareth were making memes in response, picking on one another in a way that felt like with some of his teammates. The message that had prompted the most reaction from Steve was the last thing Eddie had sent before Robin threw the pillow; a meme of Eddie looking confused, which Jeff had edited “So he’s not Joe Jonas?” over his head.
In his room, Steve leans over to pick up his charger, but he feels his phone lift free from his pocket. “Hey!” He calls after Robin, who’s sprinting down the hallway, laughing like the menace she is.
“I just want to see what you’re talking about!” Robin says, unlocking his phone. He’s just about to catch up to her, as she slides on her socks into her bedroom, closing the door behind her, right in his face. 
“You’re being a child, Robs, c’mon. Give me my phone back.” He sighs, resting his forehead against the door. He jiggles the handle, but as he’d guessed, she’d locked it behind her.
“Do you like him?” She asks through the door, and he sighs again.
“I don’t know,” He answers, honestly and exhaustedly. “I don’t even know him, you know? We weren’t friends, it’s not like I could tell you anything about him other than Tommy used to buy weed from him and he would stand on tables and yell in the cafeteria.”
There’s a long silence before Robin opens the door, meeting Steve with a little smile. She shoves the phone back into his chest and pats his hand when he takes it from her. “I think this could be good for you. That this could be good for you.”
“I’m trying not to read too hard into it.” Steve mumbles, reaching up to run his fingers through his hair nervously. He glances back down at the screen, to see what while Robin had taken the phone, Eddie had sent another text.
Eddie: How were your games? Are you doing anything special for your day off?
It makes something twist in his chest, that Eddie even cares, and he doesn’t quite know why. It must show on his face, some part of how he’s feeling, because Robin just smiles and nods. Maybe she knows how he feels, part of their weird unspoken telepathy, because she walks further into her room and pats the edge of her bed as she goes.
“Are you going to let me paint your nails for the concert?” She asks. Everything inside of Steve appreciates how she always knows when to give him space to try and figure his shit out on his own.
“Obviously.” He laughs softly, following her into the bedroom to sit on her bed and watch her move around collecting things to paint his nails.
~~~
The following day, Steve spends more time than he would like to admit picking out an outfit to wear to the concert. He can hear the Party starting to get antsy in the living room, even though they’d still be plenty early if they left right now, so he decides to just roll with the white shirt and fitted khakis he’d dressed himself in several hours ago before he started overthinking his choices. He finished the outfit off with a black zip-up fleece and black and white Nikes. 
A final check of his hair had him walking out of his room and into the living room, where chaos erupted.
“It’s about time!” Dustin exclaims, practically bouncing up and down with excitement on the sofa.
“It took you that long to come out looking like that?” Mike asks, but Max just snorts and shoves his shoulder.
“Let’s just go.” Steve rolls his eyes, glancing over at Robin who jingles car keys she’s already holding, before leading the way out of the apartment.
In the car, he shoots Eddie a quick text to let him know they’re on the way. Eddie’s quick to reply, giving the message a thumbs-up reaction. Unbelievably, the Party somehow manages to get even louder than usual once they were inside, and it doesn’t take long for a security guard to find them. They’re led through the back tunnels of Wintrust Arena, and Steve gets a little nostalgic for playing hockey in college. He’s snapped out of it when a girl passes out their pass lanyards and gives each of the Party a voucher for free drinks and snacks. 
“This is too much, really,” Steve protests as she hands him the voucher, but Paige insists with a kind smile. 
“We get this kind of stuff from every venue and rarely get to use it to its full extent. The guys want to do this for you and your friends, just enjoy it.”
The Party loads up on treats at the nearest food station, while Steve and Robin grab beers with Paige. As she collects her drink, Paige hands Steve a palm-sized bag of earplugs. He frowns at them, which makes her laugh. 
“Eddie said this isn't really your usual kind of scene, and these shows can get loud,” she taps her own ears to show she has similar earplugs in. “Should also help prevent headaches or anything else that might keep you off the ice tomorrow.”
“Please, he’s too stubborn to stay off the ice. The amount of migraines he’s played through is outrageous,” Dustin bounds back into the conversation, earning a chuckle from Robin. Steve throws his arm around the younger boy’s shoulders, pulling him just a little too close and too tight. Dustin exaggerates choking noises, flailing around and making a scene, but Steve refuses to let up.
_____
There’s more anxiety than usual thrumming through Eddie as he and Jeff make their way through the arena, to where Paige had said she’d take Steve and his friends for snacks. As they walk up on the group, however, Steve quickly pulls a younger boy with a head full of curls into a headlock. He lets the scene continue for a moment before he nudges Jeff.
“At what point fo you think we should intervene?” He asks with a smile, making Jeff chuckle. Steve, however, freezes, then shoves Dustin away. He turns to give Eddie a sheepish smile, and Eddie can’t help but raise an eyebrow. 
Steve lets out a huff of a laugh, running his fingers through his hair, shrugging and tipping his head in the boy’s direction. “This is Dustin. He’s like my little brother. I’m allowed to pick on him when he’s being a shithead.” Dustin nudges his elbow into Steve’s gut, who’s quick to smack his arm in response. Before Eddie can stop himself, he’s twisting a curl around his finger and biting back a grin. He does, however, make a conscious effort to not chew on his hair. He knows he’d never hear the end of it, fawning over Steve Harrington after a whole 10 seconds.
Eddie offers a hand out to Dustin, hoping Jeff and Paige would let his little tells fly under the radar. Just this once, they seem to, as he greets the Party. “Hey man, I’m Eddie. Nice to meet you.”
“I know who you are, holy shit, man.” Dustin eventually fumbles through, shaking Eddie’s hand and grinning up at him. 
Steve rattles off the introductions for each kid, like a proud mom, and Eddie greets each of them politely, but his eyes keep falling back on Steve. He catches his little smiles and the way he nudges different members of the Party, squeezes their shoulders, ruffles their hair. It’s gentle and sweet and it sends a warm feeling through Eddie’s chest. His smile softens as he watches their interactions. All too soon, Freak leans into the area they’ve gathered in and whistles.
“Shit, guys, we gotta go.” Jeff sighs, and Eddie pats his shoulder before he turns back to the group with a grin. 
“Just hang with Paige and try not to get into too much trouble, we’ll get drinks after?” Eddie asks, looking at Steve, who smiles back and gives a little nod.
As Eddie runs to catch up with Jeff and Freak, he wonders exactly what he’s gotten himself into here.
____
It’s more fun than Steve expects, the concert. The excitement of watching the show from the suite quickly bores the Party, as they realize it’s the same as watching hockey games from a guest box. They eat their snacks and drink some through the openers, but during the break before Corroded Coffin, Lucas and Dustin drag Steve around to the side stage. Robin promises to stay with the others, and reminds Steve to wear the earplugs. 
He’s grateful Paige had slipped them to him as they get beside the stage and he realizes just how loud the crowd is when the lights go down. From where they’re standing sidestage, he can see Eddie, Jeff, Gareth and Freak in a little huddle. They bounce around with their arms around each others backs, before yelling something Steve can’t quite make out. They’re handed their instruments by the crew. As they’re taking the stage, Eddie walks up in their direction and pokes his tongue out at them, before ripping into a guitar riff to make his entrance. 
Despite himself, Steve finds his head bobbing along to the drum beat, and even sings along to the songs he recognizes. It’s hard to take his eyes off Eddie through the whole production. He’s a little ball of energy, bounding around from one end of the stage to the other, bantering with the other guys in the band and drawing the fans into his chaos during talking breaks. During a drum solo, Eddie climbs onto the front of the kit and holds his guitar up in the air over his head. Steve watches, mesmerized, as Eddie holds his gaze for a moment that feels like an eternity but is probably only a few seconds. Eddie winks at Steve, then, before he leaps back into yet another riff. It shouldn’t have had so much of an impact, but Steve finds it kind of takes his breath away.
It’s over before long, and Paige is quick to guide Steve and the boys back to the club box. He smiles as they walk behind Dustin and Lucas, gushing over how great the show was. Back in the box, Steve and Paige agree to meet across the street at Fatpour. He charms his way into using the upstairs as a private room with a signature to the manager and flashes a smile and wave to the few people downstairs who seem to have recognized him. 
The band makes a loud entrance as the Party works their way through appetizers, and Eddie is quick to find his way to Steve. “You seemed to have enjoyed yourself, was it more fun than you expected?” He asks around a grin.
“I never said I wasn’t going to have a good time,” Steve defended through a smile, making Eddie laugh and Steve thinks that might be the best sound he’d heard all night, despite having just seen the concert. Eddie glances around then, locking eyes with a bartender to get their attention.
“What’s your poison?” Eddie asks in the most cliche way, wiggling his eyebrows a little, but Steve shakes his head.
“Strictly on water tonight. Gotta get up early tomorrow.” He says, and Eddie softens and nods. Once their drinks are in front of them, he holds his glass up to Steve in a mock toast.
“To making it the fuck out of Hawkins?”
“Cheers to that.” Steve laughs, clanking their glasses together and taking a sip.
“Any reason you stayed in the Midwest?” Eddie asks, before he can stop himself. “Sorry, you don’t have to… you don’t owe me an explanation.”
“Nah, it’s… a few reasons. Couldn’t go too far without them, and most of ‘em followed me here, anyway. And then the chips fell and I ended up on the Blackhawks and there’s kind of no other team I’d rather play for.” Steve explains, leaning a little closer to Eddie with a smile. “Speaking of; are you ready for the game?”
Eddie can’t help but grin back at Steve and laugh a little. “You know, I honestly have no idea what I’m getting in to here. All I remember from watching games on TV is that it’s violent.”
“Not always.” Steve defends quickly, before showing a slight mercy. “It’s cold in there, because of the ice. You’ll want to wear layers.”
“Layers. Noted.” Eddie stores the information away for tomorrow, suddenly concerned he hadn’t even thought about an outfit for the game before the conversation.
As they talk, Robin appears with a basket of cheese curds but pulls it away as Eddie reaches to take one. 
“What’s your favorite movie?” She asks, and Steve laughs and shakes his head at her.
“Is this a quiz? I’m not good at tests, I flunked out of senior year.” Eddie whines before he stops to think about it. “Uh, well. The answer you’d probably expect from me is Almost Famous, but it’s actually a close second to Dead Poets Society.” 
She narrows her eyes at him but slides the basket in his direction. “I can’t tell if you picked either of those because you thought it was the answer I wanted, or because they’re actually your favorite, so I have to give you curds.”
“They’re actually my favorites!” Eddie laughs around a mouthful of cheese curds.
“Dead Poets is one of Robin’s favorites, too.” Steve offers, and Robin nods.
“Steve will tell you his favorite movie is Risky Business, because he thinks Tom Cruise is hot, but it’s actually Go Figure. You know, the Disney movie about the ice skater who joins her school’s hockey—” Robin is grinning until Steve clasps a hand over her mouth.
“Robin is incredibly annoying when she wants to be,” He grumbles, and Eddie can’t help but laugh at their antics.
“Well, now you’ve got my attention. If Go Figure isn’t your favorite movie, what is?” Eddie asks.
Steve thinks for a moment. “I think Back to the Future feels like a safe answer.” He shrugs, and Eddie glances at Robin to gauge her reaction. She seems to approve, as she gives Steve a soft smile, pats his back, then stands from their table.
“I’ll leave you two alone, I suppose.” She says, leaning close to both of them. “Behave, got it? No funny business before the game.”
Steve flushes and flounders a little, his mouth opening and closing a few times before he just huffs and takes a sip from his water. While Eddie feels his whole face get hot in a blush, he can’t help but laugh a little.
“Is there funny business we could have gotten up to?” He dares to ask, and it’s worth it just to watch the way Steve blushes and bites at his lip. 
“Maybe. But I guess you’ve got to wait until after tomorrow’s game to find out.”
________________________________________________________
Wow! Thank you all so much for the overwhelming support you’ve shown this little idea I had! I might just keep this going as a series, with updates on Mondays (Tuesdays at the latest). This is also double the word count of part 1, oops, lol.
I'm going to try to tag everyone in the replies because I hit the character limit! Tumblr wouldn't take them all, so sorry to everyone I missed, I still love you and appreciate the support!
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toast-on-dandelioms · 13 days
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completely fine if you can’t do this but I’m curious if you could do something with platonic yan batfam finding out teen reader smokes. Not hard core drugs or anything, just cigarettes (still bad I know), and maybe even drinks alcohol.
in their own words it “makes it so they can stop thinking”
Again completely fine if you can’t!! Also love your work ♥️
The ask is based before the events of part 4
beta reader: @duck-you
WC: 4.4k
Dividers made by @saradika-graphics @cafekitsune
Age of reader: 16-17 (the age of reader in the main serie is your choice, I don't think I ever made the age clear but for this ask reader is almost 18)
Tw: mentions of alcohol and cigarettes, underage drinking and reckless behaviour from intoxication, Joker, fighting under the influence, wrongful imprisonment, Black Mask and his uglyness
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You first started smoking when you were at the end of middle school and started high school, your friends kept pressuring you into it since all the cool kids were smoking and you didn't want to lose them.
You did stop a few times but they kept gas lighting you into starting smoking once again and after you started to roam Gotham as Spider it became an habit that helped you do something whenever the night was dead or you were just bored.
You also made sure to not smoke before going back to the Manor since you knew Alfred would know and you didn't want to let him know and disappoint the older man, seeing him as a father figure instead of Bruce since he was the one who actually took time out of his day to pay attention to you whenever you told him in advance.
The drinking didn't start until you turned 17 and your friends managed to drag you to a party after a lot of begging and accusing you of not caring about them.
You still remember the night where you got drunk for the first time, the beat of the music making you unable to talk to anyone without yelling and how everyone kept pushing drinks in your hand and cheer whenever you drank it all.
The taste of whatever drink you just drank always made you make a disgusted face before smiling happily as you started to relax and have fun with your friends, even singing karaoke after someone pushed a microphone in your hands and told you to follow the words that were being displayed on a TV.
Honestly that night was one of the best you ever had because you weren't Spider, you weren't the forgotten child of Bruce Wayne and you weren't the straight A's student that people looked down upon because of how silent and antisocial you were. You were [Y/N], the one who beat 5 guys at arm wrestling, the friend who was dancing like crazy and how you just lost your virginity (the alcohol one, not the actual virginity).
You didn't really enjoy drinking, especially whenever you drank too much after a party and ended up with the worst hangover ever thanks to your powers, but it was a nice thing to do to de-stress after a long night or to just become free for a night with your friends.
One night you were still on patrol but had a long night because you had to stop many gang fights and even got shot on the leg, which you bandaged up but it was hurting and annoying you so you ended up drinking the entire bottle of vodka you had in your schoolbag, where you forgot to take out the bottle a friend put inside after you told them that you never drank it since you never had the opportunity to do so.
And you were a bit of a lightweight since you didn't start for too long and somehow you found yourself wandering around Gotham, drunk out of your mind and unaware of your surroundings. Yes people were taking videos of a drunk vigilante walking on the walls and street but didn't do much, especially when they saw a familiar clown approaching.
When Joker finally walked up to you with his usual smile, happy that he saw you since he could just use you after he noticed how Batman was attached to you, plus you looked incredibly drunk and you were stumbling around the empty street, still wearing your mask that was just rolled up enough that he could see your mouth, slightly open so he thought it would be easy to kidnap you by just using a crowbar.
Immediately, when you felt his hand touch your shoulder and his annoying laugh, you grabbed his hand and just slammed him into the ground with a judo flip, that you saw Damian do when you were watching him train alongside the others.
Your drunken mind didn't clock in that the person who touched you was the feared clown of Gotham, you just kept hitting his body with the crowbar that he had in hand after you took it off his hands after he tried to hit you with it when he had the chance to attack.
But you didn't let him, somehow your mind and body when under the influence were a better fighter than you actually thought, you weren't using your superstrenght most of the time and only if he actually posed as a threat when he tried to attack you once again.
During the fight your mask was taken by that clown, who probably got even angrier when he saw that you were just a kid and that looked like you were gonna fall asleep in any moment, which was why he even managed to hit you on the face. Unfortunately for him, his hit made you remember when Jason hit you and somehow awakened an anger and you just started to hit that man like there was no tomorrow.
Somehow, during the drunken fight between you and Joker that people were recording, you didn't notice three masked figures on a rooftop who were watching you fight that clown and were discussing when to butt in.
Dick was watching with glee as you hit the clown while also waiting for Oracle to tell him who Spider was once Joker took off your mask, amazed as he watched your fight.
He did feel anger whenever Joker managed to get a hit on you with his fists and had to be held back by Jason and Damian, since they both wanted to see you win and see you fight in real life instead of watching from the cameras, which didn't show all of the fights most of the time.
As he watched he did that you moved a bit weird, like you were under the influence and that made him panic because what if Joker actually tried to drug you? What if someone tried to kidnap you and he wasn't there to save you?!
Jason was also watching in glee when he saw you hit the Walmart clown with a crowbar, cheering whenever you hit him in the face with that crowbar. He would also yell out scores when you did that, not caring that people were filming him.
He did notice how sluggish you were when you moved and was also ready to jump down to help you, not wanting you to get badly hurt by that clown even though he knew that you could defend yourself.
Damian was watching and making small comments about your posture as you fought before noticing how many moves were incredibly similar to downright the same moves he did as he fought with random criminals, making his heart soar with respect and felt incredibly honoured that you were copying him. He knew that he was gonna show the footage to the others to show how much Spider was like him and how he's obviously the favourite since they're copying him.
He did found your face very familiar, like he met you once but he couldn't find any memory of you in his mind, making him frustrated and angry since he's supposed to be the heir of Wayne Enterprises, his memory shouldn't get worse so soon.
When you felt a hand on your shoulder and another grabbing the hand that was hitting the now dead Joker, you turned around and just kicked that person away with all your strength to a nearby dumpster and just prepared yourself for another fight.
You honestly couldn't really see who was close to you thanks to Joker punching you right in the face and making your eyesight a bit blurry that you honestly couldn't see who was approaching and just thought it was another guy or more trying to kidnap you, so you kept fighting by using your spider senses to find them.
It took Dick, a laughing Jason and an annoyed but amazed Damian to manage to stop you, leaving all of them with bruises and many injuries since you didn't hold your strength back. The indented dumpster after you kicked Damian when he tried to grab you and the hole in a wall after you missed punching Jason and got stuck in the wall was proof of it.
The last thing you remembered before falling asleep after getting a small injection in your neck was Jason's laugh even though he sounded like someone kicked him in the chest and Damian's exasperated voice as he talked with Dick and how they shouldn't let you near anything alcoholic anymore.
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You woke up the next day in your room, the headache from the hangover making you groan in pain, especially after feeling how sore your body was even though you couldn't remember anything from last night, before managing to get up without feeling like puking or falling, cursing yourself and making a mental note to never drink during patrol.
You slowly walked to the door, cursing your hangover since it felt like your door was farther away from you since you though you were in your usual room and not in another that looked exactly the same but you didn't really pay much attention to it since your head was killing you as you tried to think of anything.
You finally reached the door and opened it, immediately facing a surprised Bruce, making you confused and annoyed since you already felt like shit and seeing your father that never stepped up as a father to you made your headache worse.
You and the man stared at each other for a few seconds that felt like hours before you pushed him away and walked to where you thought the bathroom was, knowing that you needed to have a shower and probably puke your mind out.
When you finally walked out of the bathroom with a less painful headache after drinking some water from the sink and while you were showering, knowing it was safe since the Manor filtered the water, but the short-time happiness from the long shower was immediately ruined by Dick's loud voice as he talked about something you weren't paying attention to and him dragging you to the dining room where everyone was waiting for you, your headache coming back strong to even making you try and get away from his arms.
You groaned when he basically dropped you on the carpeted floor of the dining room, to which everyone's eyes were on you as you slowly got up and made your way to a random chair far away from everyone else, a bit weirded out since you actually never sat on a chair on the actual table. Hell, you probably never even stepped foot in the room in all the years you lived there.
You mumbled a thanks to Alfred when he set a bowl of soup in front of you and a few pills on a tissue next to your glass of water, to which you assumed it was for your headache and hangover.
You started to eat the soup without saying anything to anyone else at the table before looking up when you heard Bruce's voice saying your nome, ignoring how hesitant his voice was when he actually said your name, like it was the first time he ever actually pronounced your name out loud.
You stared at the older man who was supposed to be your father, hissing a little when the lights from the chandelier hits your eyes, too used to your poorly lit room and of the gloomy weather of Gotham that never lets any sun in so bright lights hurt your eyes.
"[Y/N], hun, I know you drank last night. And I am sure you know that drinking is bad for you, especially when you are underage. You could've hurt yourself and the people around you, which you did last night!" he said, his voice raising at the end before pointing at Dick, Jason and Damian, who you just noticed all had some bruises and looked uncomfortable while sitting on the chair.
Honestly, you didn't even feel bad. The only thing you felt bad about was not being able to remember anything about it. You hoped that someone took a video of it, god you hoped so hard.
As you thought of finding that video you suddenly noticed that Bruce was still talking, probably going on about the dangers of alcohol and what it could do to someone's liver after prolonged drinking, making you annoyed since he cares now? After years of ignoring your existence?
So you did what he did once when you were little, you just got up and left without a word to your room, not caring about anything he was saying. You didn't even know where you were going in the Mansion,thanks to how big it is and how you stuck to your room instead of exploring and ended up inside a small bedroom that looked like no one entered it for years thanks to the all the dust inside of it.
You opened the windows to let some air inside and found a few diaries as you snooped around before finding the holy grail of things you could find in anyone's room: an unopened bottle of rum in a hidden drawer that you might have broken while trying to open it because you were curious.
You were now loving whoever lived here and put the rum away in a pocket before walking out the room by the window so you could reach a bag you left on the rooftop that held a copy of your costume. Why did you had a bag there on the first place?
That was simple. You once forgot it while you were drinking on the rooftop when you had a horrible day and just forgot it there when you stumbled in your room by walking on the walls. And yes, the conversation you had with Alfred to ask him about having some money to buy all the stuff you needed to re-make the suit and re-create the voice modulator was very uncomfortable, especially when you knew you couldn't afford all of the stuff you needed even though you had a job.
And yes, you didn't have an allowance because Bruce never thought of giving you money and you had to take a job to just survive and not always ask for Alfred for money when you needed something for school or for dance practice.
As you reached the bad tied to an unused chimney, a small frown formed on your face when you saw the old design of your vigilante suit but still changed before putting the web shooters on your wrists, your bag already on your shoulders and the rum safely stashed in it and wrapped around your clothes to make sure it won't accidentally break while you were swinging around Gotham.
Once you got on a random rooftop of an abandoned building, which you made sure wasn't a rogue or a gang hideout before settling on it so you could finally drink the bottle you stole. You were close to one of the mafia's territory in Crime Alley but you didn't care which one it was, you only wanted to drink.
As you finally started to drink, your tongue tasting a hint of nutmeg and weirdly cinnamon with each sip you took, you slowly started to relax as the alcohol did its job, each sip making your head feel less heavy, like it was getting pumped full of helium and slowly making your forget about the pain your body was in.
God, you never wanted to stop, just four sips in and you were already past the tipsy part and you felt so free that anything you saw in the starless, polluted night of Gotham made you laugh like crazy. You finally felt like you belonged when you drank and that all the hatred, anger and the deep resentment you felt towards the Bats was calm, like a warm heavy blanket was put on those emotions.
As the night progressed, the bottle now half empty and your mind completely fuzzy, you started to hear noises and grunts of pain from one of the alleys near your spot, making you curious to see who it was and especially what was happening that would ruin your drinking night.
You slowly got up, your limbs feeling like jelly as you moved to walk on the side of the building, slipping a little as you stumbled around. After a bit you finally managed to get to the right alley when you realised you were on the wrong side of the building, and as you walked over you luckily avoided a frantic Nightwing grappling to a building.
You watched in silence when you finally got to the right alley and saw Black Mask, one of the criminals you knew his own goons feared because he could kill them if they did anything wrong in his eyes. You couldn't count the times you saw bodies in alleys when you were patrolling, their bodies covered in bruises and most of the time they were beat up beyond recognition that always made you sick.
But, unfortunately for you, your drunken mind decided to say something since you found his mask boring and weird. Like, compared to Jason's mask, his just looked boring and not really original. And you knew he was dangerous but noo, let's anger the mafia boss who kills with no mercy.
"He-Hey! You look ri"- you took a few sips of the rum - "uhh, oh yea! Ridiculous! Why that? No red, thought of being compared to Red Skull?" you started before your drunken mind just decided to go on a whole rant about his choices of brand and what he does with his goons.
As you were ranting about his ugliness and name choice, your spider senses made you dodge an incoming bullet shot at you but unfortunately Black Mask managed to hit your sacred bottle that still had most of its contents in it and you just watched with tears in your eyes as the alcohol ran out of your bottle to the ground.
The anger that surged in you after your drunken mind realised that he wasted your precious rum made you so angry that you didn't care who Black Mask is and threw the broken glass bottle at him and used his small distraction to web his chest and launch yourself at him, using all your strenght to punch his ugly masked face.
Using the moment and how distracted the man was, thanks to your punch, you kept hitting the man with all your strenght. Sadly, this moment of you overpowering the insult for eyes as a man as the man manages to catch one of your punches that was aiming for his stomach and pulled you forward to knee you on the chest, making you gasp for air and cough and almost made you puke but you anaged to keep it down.
Sadly, the bastard with no imagination for names started to hit you on the back of the head, making your vision blurred for a few seconds before your vision went back to normal thanks to your fast healing. You managed to avoid another one of his hits and quickly jumped on the wall and webbed him on the chest, pulling him forward and jumping on him, kicking him on the jaw.
You stared at the sad excuse of a original rogue as it stayed on the ground and slowly raised your hands like you won before grabbing the broken bottle of rum and walked on a wall, waiting as you watched the thing who you refused to acknowledge as a man get up and wobble around while the two goons he was hitting before already ran away.
Once it got up, obviously confused when you watched him look around and you waited until he got closer and hit him on the head with the bottle as a revenge for the wasted precious alcohol and then you quickly kicked him on the back to keep him down since you knew he was good at hand and hand combat and you knew that you couldn't win if he was lucid so you were lucky that you gave him a concussion with a lucky move.
You kept hitting the man-thing with the bottle with no care in the world, the blood splattering on the walls and the dumpster near you two, your smile the only thing he could see as you just kept hitting him, the bottle getting thrown away when it was completely broken from hitting his mask so you went back to using your hands, smashing his mask onto his scarred face, the alcohol in your body making you ignore how the shards of the mask were also getting embedded in your hands as you kept punching his face.
You stopped when your spider senses alerted you of danger and got ready to fight whoever it was that before getting hit with something and falling asleep, the last thing you managed to say before falling asleep was "fuck yall".
You woke up once again with weird cuffs on your wrists, but fortunately you weren't chained to the bed. You slowly got up from the bed and noiced two things: your hands were bandaged, making you confused as to what happened last night after you drank and both windows in the room had bars on it.
You managed to get up from the bed and walked to the door, your vision being a bit blurred as you looked around the room. You first walked to the window to see the bars and noticed how the bars were so close together and had such a small space between that even your finger couldn't pass through.
You then walked to the door and went to grab the doorknob but almost fell to the ground as you noticed too late that the doorknob was missing from the door. You quickly recovered and looked angrily at the door, punching it with all your strenght before realising that the cuffs were blocking your super-strenght when you felt an immense pain in your hand after you punched it and the door didn't fall down like you planned to.
You slowly retracted your hand from the door and started to pound the door with the other hand, yelling for Bruce and whoever lived in the fucking Manor, too angry and scared to care about the pain as your hand kept touching the door.
As you pounded on the door, you hoped that Alfred would come to save you from this room and explain why the hell you were stuck in a room with no way out, feeling trapped as minutes went by and no one came to explain what was happening and why you were trapped in that room.
You let out a huge sigh of relief when you heard footsteps coming your way and finally stopped pounding on the door, only now noticing the prints of blood on the door from your hand that was now bleeding profusely, making you almost cry as even slightly moving a finger brought you immense pain.
You looked up when you heard the door open and stared at Bruce and Alfred, who was holding a first aid kit, and moved to the side to let them enter, not wanting to fight until you knew why you were here.
You sat on a chair, who you now noticed was plastic, and let Alfred change the bandages on your hands while you stared at Bruce, waiting for an explanation before getting frustrated when he didn't say anything and just stared at you.
"What happened to me? Why are my hands bandaged?" you asked, staring directly at Bruce to hear his explanation, not remembering anything after you drank.
The man who you were told to call father just stared at you with a grim expression on his face "two days ago, after you snuck ou-" to which you interrupted him "I didn't sneak out, using those words would mean that you cared that I actually lived here and what these last 17 years showed me was that you don't care. Don't act like you do now".
You watched as the man acted like it didn't affect him but you knew that it did. You knew Bruce Wayne and he loves kids, you saw how he acted with Damian when he got hurt during patrol and how Jason once came home bleeding. You saw the man who you thought was heartless and didn't care about anyone cradle Jason's body as he carried him to the batcave, his face showing so many emotions that you never saw before.
You stayed silent as you watched him, giving an ok to Alfred when he asked if the bandages were too tight, still waiting for him to explain before sighing loudly when he just stared back at you.
"I went out to drink so what? Did I fight a gang member and somehow got so hurt that my hands need help healing?" you joked, wiggling your fingers to show your bandaged hands like it was something to be proud of.
To which Bruce seemed to get extremely mad about it "no, you decided to fight Black Mask after insulting him and ended up killing him. Damian and Cass had to sedate you as they thought you were a danger to yourself and to the civilians.".
After that you just stared at him before looking down at your own hands and looked at your knuckles who were staining your bandages since they were still bleeding. "So what? I didn't hurt someone innocent so why am I in a room with bars and no way out?" you asked angrily, not caring that you killed someone since you never viewed Black Mask as a person after everything you've seen him and his men do.
The man stared back at you "and this is exactly why you won't be let out until I know that you aren't a danger to the public" he said coldly and walked out with Alfred while you just stood there in shock.
You quickly ran to the door and started banging on it "NO NO NO! YOU CAN'T LEAVE ME HERE! I AM AN ADULT! YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME" you yelled as you banged to it, ignoring how their footsteps started to sound so far away while you cried and yelled in the room.
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Hiiiiiii! I have a silly question.
I'm following a lady with ASPD and she said "I'm lack of empathy so I can't empathize with myself." Could it be true?
Because all I can think is what if Izaya feels "less human" because he doesn't even know if he's feeling something.
hi!!! and no question is silly when u are trying to understand someone else's experience better!
and my answer is... maybe? it sounds possible, and i'm not gonna doubt this lady's lived experience. aspd- like every other diaorder imo- is a spectrum, no two people with the disorder are gonna be the same.
personally i can't feel my emotions all that well- i can identify them just fine, but they're weak if i do feel them, and i tend to have psyological reactions without the actual emotion. for instance, it took me MONTHS to realize my constant vomiting was because of anxiety, because i didn't FEEL anxious! altho, i'm not 100% sure if it's the aspd that does it- some ausitic people also experience this, and i am also autistic. HOWEVER my autistic nonaspd fiance does not feel this, and my allistic brother w aspd DOES. so it could be a shared experience who knows!!
so it definetley makes sense that a lack of empathy can extend to oneself; if you have trouble feeling an emotion, you'd have trouble feeling it wrt your own experiences. i can see this manifesting as giving yourself very little leeway for things you deem "unsavory" about yourself, but i'm not her, i can't speak for the specific experience she's describing
and honestly i DO think izaya has trouble feeling strong emotions, kinda like how i do it. (hes just like me fr fr)
the few emotions he DOES feel regularly, he grips onto like a vice. ive noticed that he likes to go on tangents and at the end, proclaims how much he loves humanity- i personally think he goes on said tangents partially to get himself thinking about how much he loves humans, and then at the end, BOOM! an emotional "kick!" he talked himself into feeling a strong emotion because my man needs to feel SOMEthing and hes always "chasing the high" as it were, of positive emotions- love being one of them, but also excitement and exhileration!
and i can absolutely see him feeling less-than-human because of this- something as natural as emotions, he has to work so hard to feel? what's wrong with him? why is he so different from the humans he loves?
and to cope, he tells himself that this emotional detachment makes him better and more logical, and that actually it's something he actively chose for himself.
because of the sterotype of people with aspd being cold and calculating master manipulators, it is... SO easy to delude yourself into thinking that all your disordered traits are on purpose.
it is so, so easy.
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