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#my parents are not good about this

ennas-aesthetic · 9 months

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If we DO ever get a Good Omens season 3 (and fingers crossed we will) then using the Second Coming as the narrative device to facilitate the final culmination of Good Omens' ideology and message is brilliant, actually.

Because the Second Coming IS NOT another Adam situation. And, contrary to the misconceptions I've seen, It IS NOT about Jesus being born again as a baby, etc, etc.

THE SECOND COMING. QUITE LITERALLY refers to THE LAST JUDGMENT.

As in. The SAME Last Judgment Michelangelo painted on the walls of the Sistine Chapel. As in - THE JUDGMENT of the Living and the Dead. THE LAST, FINAL, ETERNAL JUDGMENT.

It's the WHOLE thing Armageddon was leading towards. Book of Revelation speedrun: the world ends, everyone dies, and then they get resurrected again to be judged by JESUS himself. He will flick through the Book of Life (WINK WINK WINK DO YOU SEE HOW LOUDLY I'M WINKING AT YOU???), and if your name is there he will go "oh nice you deserve eternal paradise! :D" and if your name is ERASED from the Book of Life he will go "oh no, sorry, you go to the lake of fire for eternity now D:" (except apparently in Good Omens lore it'd just DOOM YOU TO NON-EXISTENCE FOREVER???)

And if you THINK about it, The Last Judgment is the ultimate manifestation of moral absolutism. No shades of gray, no chances. Just BLACK, and WHITE. Never mind that you're like Wee Morag and Elspeth, who are forced to do "bad" things because of circumstances. It's either you pass Judgment Day, or you burn (or disappear forever.) And the way THINGS are going in the Good Omens universe? I don't think there's ANYONE "good" enough to be "saved." Not Crowley, not Aziraphale. Hell, not even the Archangels themselves.

So it provides a PERFECT opportunity for Aziraphale and Crowley to UPEND that SYSTEM entirely.

I think that's what Crowley and Aziraphale would do in s3: establish a new kind of system in which angels and demons have free will to determine the right (or wrong) choice.

Giving them the APPLE, so to speak.

And then they'll go off to retire in a cottage, together at last.

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens meta #ineffable husbands #aziraphale #crowley #im sorry but i choke everytime someone refers to a baby jesus for the second coming #like i love yall and parent trapping aziraphale and crowley by the infant son of god would be amusing as heck #but also i rlly think this is about the Last Judgment guys KSLDSKDKLDS #thank you good omens yes this IS in fact how i use my collection of niche trivia on christian eschatology #putting my religious trauma into good use iktr

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melonsharks · 8 months

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i went. insane. LOOK. i know a lot of people realllyyyy wanted crowley to be the wedding dress designer LOOK I KNOW AND ITS OK u can make ur own au i promise but in MY WORLD. you need to understand me.

crowley owning a vineyard is personal to me. he is THE snake in the garden of eden, tempting is his JOB ok. he makes wines aziraphale indulges in, aziraphale designs dresses with crowley in mind. do you hear me. are you listening to me. i have everything from the second they meet mapped out OK i know what im talking about. listen to my delusions, boy.

#ive been losing my mind ive seen this movie so many times this week #how my friends arent sick of hearing me talk abt this is a miracle in and of itself #good omens #good omens 2 #aziracrow #aziraphale #crowley #ineffable divorce #warlock dowling #go adam young #ineffable husbands #parent trap au #good omens au #gabuart #I WAS ONLY PLANNING TO DRAW THIS ONCE AND NEVER TALK ABOUT IT AGAIN.#i have more where theyre young but ill post them tomorrow #i mean im posting them all on instagram tonight so u can see them there if u want

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ew-selfish-art · 6 months

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Dpx Dc AU: Ectoplasm is required for Ghosts to be visible to the human eye- And Danny creates his own ectoplasm.

Danny is visiting Jazz in Gotham and its weird how friendly everyone is. Like, the city gets a really bad rapport, everywhere he goes there is someone trying to strike up a conversation or answer his questions about getting around to the tourist spots. A few people even pointed out restaurants and ways to find off the beaten path gems! Jazz seems to role her eyes at him, but when he brings up her 'roommate' being kind of cute she flat out laughs.

Danny then comes to understand the Jazz doesn't have a roommate and that Ghosts in Gotham don't move far from their haunts- He's just been inadvertently turning these undead folks visible by accident of generating abnormal amounts of ectoplasm.

Which, is comforting in a way, he's never walking this dangerous city alone and really, most of the ghosts have been really friendly! They disappear once he's a few blocks away from them anyway.

---

Tim Drake is having a horrible day.

He'd been given intel that one of Black Mask's guys was going to snitch but that he'd died before given the opportunity to reach out to the GCPD. He tracks down the guy's last know whereabouts and yikes. Its next to the Theater. Tim was often grateful for his childhood obsessions, this time it backfired.

Tim and Bruce get into an argument about trust and respect and, worst of all, mental health. And even though Tim was vehemently against Batman accompanying Red Robin to the alleyway - that's exactly what happens.

They arrive and Bruce is closing up faster than a clam in the contaminated Gotham Bay- Clearly being in the Alley bothers him. No fucking shit. RR gets started on collecting evidence, there are a few extra blood splatters and a single left shoe... When a kid walks into the Alley.

"Uh, sorry to intrude-" The kid looks scared shitless, and runs away. And then, all of a sudden, Batman and Robin aren't alone in the Alley.

Tim can hardly believe his eyes as the dead man appears and quickly blabs Black Mask's bank passwords and what the plan had been- and While he's over joyed to have that closure, he turns around to Batman weeping in the arms of his parents.

The ghosts fade, and the emotions are certainly charged as this was never something Bruce or Tim would have ever dreamed of happening. Ghosts in Gotham. Talking, floating, granting closure.

"RR, Bats, come in." Oracle calls into their ears.

"Reporting in, but, uh, we need a minute."

"A minute? We have a case on 4th and-"

"O, we just saw the ghosts of the Waynes. It's going to be a minute."

"...Lots of Ghost reports lately then. Any chance you saw a kid looking like he could be adopted?"

"Yeah, actually, black hair and blue eyes. He was super polite before he ran away."

"We have work to do. Oracle, lets prioritize finding our person of interest and divert Nightwing and Robin to the case on 4th." Batman cut between them on the comms and he sounded... calmer than either of them anticipated.

---

Jazz is no longer laughing when Batman appears at her door explaining that he's looking for Danny (Who already flew away from town to get a good night's sleep before class on Monday). Turns out Danny reunited the man with his dead parents just briefly- and then the second guy appears and mentions how Danny had also given a guy who'd been murdered by a Mob enough time to explain the ongoing threats the city faced.

Jazz just rolls her eyes and says that it's not like the ghosts are going anywhere anytime soon and Danny will visit in another month. When pressed, she just explains that her brother is a weirdo. No of course he doesn't have powers. Gaslight and Girlbosses her way out.

And Jazz thinks that the game is up for at least another month, obviously when Danny visits more shit will stir up, but then this new guy appears.

Unlike the other Bats who are keen on watching her from a distance, the Red Hood knocks on her door. Are her eyebrows all the way into her hairline when Red Hood asks her to send his thanks along to Danny because somehow this whole situation led to his Dad expressing remorse for his actions and apologizing? Yes, yes they are.

But Jazz can smell Dissertation Data off of these vigilantes- Who is she to send them away? Jazz welcomes Red Hood into her place for a cup of tea and a small chat.

The story then devolves into Jazz getting shit done, Danny being cute by proximity and also bringing ghosts to the party, and the Bats having trauma resolve between them.

#dcxdp #dpxdc #dc x dp #dp x dc #danny phantom #dc crossover #dp crossover #long post #danny can make ghosts appear like they do in amity but only for a short while and when in proximity to him #its not apparent in amity because the ghosts are just like that there #Danny just having a good time #Danny having zero brain cells about this whole thing and neither he nor jazz will offer explanations #they're just like 'gotham has ghosts. its not like he put them there'#Bruce getting into therapy because his dead parents said they were proud of him and he didnt know how to handle that #bruce having to turn this energy around somehow and seeing jason - my boy i love you so much and im so sorry and im so proud of you #heres the thing i dont know how i made it anger management ship at the end but i sure as fuck did.#jason is at a lack of words at bruce's confessions of pride and love but is also about to be a BAT about this and track down info #info in the form of a cute girl #oh yeah she has a brother #uh well #he has brothers too- this is fine #someone write this fic pls n thx u

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puppetmaster13u · 3 months

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Prompt 190

“I’m going to adopt them.”

“Danny no, I love you but no. Do not.”

Danny, of course, did not listen, and instead scooped up the feral ghostling. “No no, I’m adopting. We’re adopting now. Look at his itty bitty fangs and big eyes, how can you say no to that?”

"..."

Valerie, to no one's surprise, is not impressed with her boyfriends returning after being told to ‘go touch grass’ with a literal child. Sam, on the other hand, is not surprised at all.

“I’ll get a room in the lair set up, say kiddo, you like gargoyles?”

The child does indeed, like gargoyles.

#Dcxdp #Dpxdc #Prompts #Phantastic Four #Flashpoint Timeline #Tiny Bruce is as feral as Danny is he’s just also polite about it #Bruce: This is my favorite gargoyle who I named Gary he’s my good luck gargoyle #They end up visiting his dimension after he’s comfortable enough to tell them about how he died #He wants to see his living parents and let them know that it’s okay and that he’s okay now and he’ll wait for them #But Flashpoint timeline is well- Flashpoint timeline #Thomas is going to cry (and then try to adopt the four ‘ghosts’ into the family)#Who knows what Joker-Martha's reaction would be if she's not dead herself

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royalarchivist · 6 months

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Cellbit: Yeah, [Bobby is] our son.

Roier: What?

Cellbit: He's our son, no? Or not? Am I not?

Roier: I mean… he's already dead. [...] By the time we got married, he was no longer around. So in theory, in theory-

Cellbit: But in my heart, he is my son.

Roier: Oh, that's fine, in your heart, yes. In your heart, yes. But actually-

Cellbit: He could have been my son, he could have been.

Roier: But actually, he is my son and Jaiden’s.

Cellbit: Yes yes, definitely, of course.

Roier: [Smacks him] Exactly. Well, you're the step-father, you know?

[ Full Transcript ↓ ]

Cellbit: Hey Tina, have you met Bobby? I don't think you did, right?

Tina: I met him a little bit earlier, he's so cute!

Roier: Aww

Tina: I told him I like StarBobby.

Cellbit: Yeah, it's our son.

Roier: What? But-

Cellbit: He's our son, no? Or not? Am I not?

Roier: I mean... he's already dead.

Cellbit: That's true, that's true.

Roier: By the time we got married, he was no longer around.

Cellbit: That's true, true.

Roier: So in theory, in theory-

Cellbit: But in my heart, he is my son.

Roier: Oh, that's fine, in your heart, yes. In your heart, yes. But actually-

Bagi: Am I the auntie?

Cellbit: He could have been my son, he could have been.

Roier: But actually, he is my son and Jaiden’s.

Cellbit: Yes yes, definitely, of course.

Roier: [Smacks him] Exactly. Well, you're the step-father, you know?

Bagi: So I don't think I'm your auntie, sorry. Unless you want to!

Cellbit: Yes, fake dad, fake dad. Fake father.

Roier: But it's ok. It's ok.

Cellbit: It's ok, it's ok.

Roier: It's this dumbass' fault he died anyways.

#Roier #Cellbit #Guapoduo #Bobby #QSMP #Saw people straight up lying about what they said during this exchange so this is just me slapping down the receipts #Roier's right though! At that point in time he and Cellbit weren't married nor did they have that kind of relationship #If Bobby hadn't died maybe Cellbit COULD'VE been some kind of guardian to him #But Bobby is; and has always been; Roier and Jaiden's son #As a side note #With how involved Roier is in fandom stuff #I'm sure he's seen how frequently Jaiden gets left out and/or replaced with Cellbit in family art #So whether this is his gentle reminder to fans or just him establishing a boundary in a relationship: Roier is based #And it's a disservice to his and Cellbit's characters to take their words out of context and/or purposefully misinterpret them #Cellbit understood where Roier was coming from and explained how he saw things #(''I could've been'' ''in my heart'' etc.)#and Roier explained his perspective #(''We weren't married yet'' ''He was already dead by then'' ''Jaiden and I are his parents'')#Communication is the foundation to any good relationship!#and Guapoduo do it well. Usually #The fandom could learn a thing or two from QSMP; aka ''Communications SMP''#Bagi in the background going ''I'm an auntie? :D'' then ''oh no I'm not your auntie'' then ''Haha UNLESS?'' is so funny

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artemismoorea03 · 4 months

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DP x DC: The Ghostly Army

The fact that Ghosts can be brainwashed and hypnotized gets out and ends up in the wrong hands. Specifically the hands of Lex Luthor. When he finds this out he's ecstatic. He's been half paying attention to Ghosts since he started getting reports from the Ghost Investigation Ward after he passed their Anti-Ecto Laws, it was part of the law that had been brought to him.

For as long as the law existed he would get as much of the information as those who funded the G.I.W.. It hadn't been something he'd actively cared about until he learned just how powerful one of the ghosts - Phantom - was. Strong enough to take down Superman if he was on the right team, which he wasn't and the G.I.W. wanted him destroyed so it was complicated.

However, after enough 'negotiating' and keeping the situation in Amity Park under the radar and blocking out all calls in and out of the small city to avoid the Justice League from paying them any attention, he was able to convince the G.I.W. to help him out. Bring him Phantom and any other particularly powerful ghost like Phantom and he would allow them to do whatever they wanted with Amity Park.

Now he has not one but three exceedingly powerful Ghosts under his control.

Wisp: A tiny ghost who appeared about 12 with white hair and green eyes.

Wraith: A much larger ghost around 15 who could be Phantom's twin but with red eyes.

and Phantom: A 15 year old child who was apparently more powerful than Wisp and Wraith combined.

They were all under his control, and impossible force that he used to take down not only Superman but any member of the Justice League who dared stand in his way. With Wisp's small size and speed, Wraith's rage and strength, and Phantom's power and experience there would be no stopping them!

----

Meanwhile, in Gotham City there is a very pissed off Vampire and two people in jumpsuits running around looking for their three missing children and anybody who will listen to them. Which, Batman was already planning on doing before the Vampire decided to all but kidnap Nightwing as collateral in case they 'didn't have his full attention'.

Whoever these three pissed off parents were, their kids were important to them and soon they would become important to the entire Justice League... maybe even the world.

#dp x dc prompt #dc x dp prompt #my prompts #Vlad changed for the better after he learned about Dan #decided to get his shit together before Dan decided to wreck everything #Wisp in Elle #Wraith is Dan #incase I didn't make that clear enough #Good parents Jack and Maddie because despite what I write I do love them #They basically co-parent Elle because she doesn't trust Vlad fully yet and Dan is straight up just his son

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stevebabey · 3 months

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steve harrington but it's that jeff winger moment from community. if u have seen community, u will know... my first stobin-centric piece <3 tw for parental neglect and a prior act of self-harm. this is absolutely on the steve harrington has bad parents train <3

“Steven, this is ridiculous.”

Robin freezes in place. Her hand hovers over the remote she's just placed back down, her limbs locking up one by one at the sound of the voice at the door.

It is not a familiar voice. She knows who it is all the same.

She fights not to move, knowing the couch springs, old and rusted, threaten to reveal her hiding place, even if it is her house. Robin is very much allowed to be here. Expected, even.

But Steve? Steve is not.

It’s why there’s one Christine Harrington on the dingy porch steps.

It’s an unwelcome surprise — even after all the fuss of the 4th of July, a thousand police sirens, endless NDAs, and too much blood on his uniform, Steve’s parents hadn’t shown.

Out of town, Steve had said, his bashed in face making it impossible to read his expression. His eyes were haunted and misty but Robin couldn’t tell if it was from the horror of the night or… a loneliness far older.

So Robin had done the fussing. Had dragged him home with her, shooed away her rightfully nosy parents, and mended him up on her bathroom counter.

Steve had been silent, a little wide-eyed as she worked on each cut, each bruise — but with her gentle touch, he had been helpless to do anything but melt beneath it.

He’d called her Robbie for the first time that night. They’d fallen asleep with their hands intertwined, her arm hanging off the bed to reach out to him on her bedroom floor.

Robin still hasn’t met Steve’s parents, even though it’s been more than a couple months since that night.

She’s been to his house countless times too. She knows where the spare key is, if she ever loses her own copy, that is. Knows which stair squeaks on the way up to the second floor and how the lock on the downstairs bathroom gets jammed too easily.

She’s eaten the best grilled cheese of her life in their kitchen, sitting on the counter.

She’s laughed so hard she’s cried on their couch, getting the throw pillows wet with her happy tears.

She’s still never met Steve’s parents. Til right now.

Christine Harrington has her arms wrapped tight around her frame and Robin has no doubt that on her face is a frown that could make babies cry.

She can’t see her face though. Can only just see a glimpse of her tense body from where she sits. Steve blocks part of her view, his own tense frame in the doorway.

He’d answered the door instead of Robin only because he had the foresight to glance at the front window after the first rap at the door. It was late. Robin’s parents certainly wouldn’t knock at their own home and neither of them were expecting visitors.

The expensive car in the drive, a sore thumb along Robin’s street, had given away the identity of just who was knocking so late in the evening. So, Steve had opened it.

“Mom—”

“I mean utterly ridiculous.” Steve gets cut off without second thought, Christine continuing on as if she hasn’t heard him at all.

“Did you expect us to spend all evening chasing you around? Figuring out where you were tonight from the Carlton’s across the road?”

She’s got this snippy tone that Robin’s heard a thousand times from teachers. Patronising. Too cold for it to seem like a genuinely concerned parent.

“The Carlton’s?” Steve echoes, a bit meek. His shoulders have rolled forward, sinking down a bit and Robin can see his tight grip on the door. Still, she stays frozen, rooted to the couch.

“Yes, Steven.” Christine says his full name again, all bite. “Imagine the shame your father and I felt hearing that. Hearing who you had been associating with.”

“Don’t say that.” Steve grits out immediately, anger bleeding into his tone.

The muscles in his back ripple as he forces his shoulders back, as if he had remembered how to stand up straight at the mention of his friend.

Robin aches; at the reminder of the stark differences of their upbringings and at Steve’s unquestionable loyalty. She finally unfreezes, sitting up a little straighter and leaning forward more— ready to spring up from her seat.

She’s not sure what for exactly. She sorta really wants to go slam the door on Steve’s mom’s face and go back to being bundled up on the couch with him. The urge is strong enough to make her fingers twitch.

“Why are you here, Mom?”

There’s a strain to Steve’s question, even though he doesn’t falter in appearance. Robin can’t see his face either though. She hopes it’s got the bitchiest expression Steve can muster.

“Don’t be smart, Steven.” Christine reprimands coldly. “I know that we may have taken a larger absence than intended but that’s not any excuse to parade yourself around with the strays of this town.”

Strays. Robin feels the word pelt into her and burn into her skin, sinking all the way down. It feels like cold water has tipped down the back of her neck. An unwelcome pit forms in her stomach.

She had known, of course, the reputation of a family like the Harrington's. She hadn’t quite known the extent they would go to protect it. Policing your child's friends over a matter of image is absurd.

Somehow, Robin can see how Steve grows even tenser at his mom’s words— hackles raising like that on a dog. His knuckles turn white. But before he speaks, Christine is barreling on like she hasn’t just slandered every one of Steve’s new friends.

“And to leave the house in such a state?”

Robin hears her sigh heavily, as though this really is the biggest problem in her life — which she can’t fathom in the slightest.

There was nothing wrong with Steve’s house. No mess beyond the usual evidence that someone, you know, lived there.

“Mom, I—” Steve starts again.

“Well, I’m sure you have your reasons. You always do.” She says it so pointedly, like Steve was known for peddling lies to weasel his way out of trouble.

It’s so un-Steve it makes Robin blink hard, wondering if she had heard right.

Steve was honest. He owned his mistakes and he took things on the chin. It was something she had liked most about him in the beginning.

Back when it was all snark and Robin told herself she was never going to be his friend, in this universe or anything other. That even then, reluctant co-worker and nothing more, Steve was honest and decent to her always.

“Now, come on now.” Christine Harrington huffs out her demand. “Your father is waiting in the car and there no use winding him up more than you already have.”

Robin’s stomach turns at her words. It had been a topic of discussion between them, one night weeks ago, lips loosened by the dark. I feel like a dog to them, Steve had admitted quietly, his breath against her pillow and his warmth under her sheets. Like they just leave alone most of the time but expect me to perk up and come running the moment they call. I hate it.

“I’m not coming with you.”

The words stammer on their way out like he had forced them out— and Robin wants to sing she’s so proud of her best friend.

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not coming with you.” Steve repeats himself, the words a little firmer this time. “I’m… I’m spending the night here, with my friend Robin.”

He trails off, the words weaker, losing steam. Robin rises to her feet, the tell-tale squeak of the couch springs letting Steve know she was still here. Still right behind him.

It makes him stand a little straighter.

“I— I’ll come home in the morning.”

Christine Harrington makes a little scoffing noise, a high pitched faux laugh as if Steve’s said something amusing.

“Tell me when did I raise such an ungrateful brat?” She muses meanly and Robin doesn’t miss the way Steve flinches lightly. “We give you free rein of the house, apt time by yourself, and yet when we request you to spend a single evening with us—”

“You’re not asking, you’re demanding.” Steve cuts in, his voice more heated now.

“Oh hush, Steven. You act as if we’re so awful.”

It’s all dismissal. Everything, every word, a dismissal.

“I just can’t win with you, can I?” Christine sighs again, disappointment dripping from the sound. “Either we’re not here enough or we’re here but you can’t find time to have dinner with your family. Which is it, Steven?”

In the doorway, Steve begins to bristle. Robin really, really wants to slam the door now — if only to stop this conversation that seems to keep cutting deeper and deeper into her best friend.

She steps closer to him, moving as silently as she can, and makes sure to stay out of sight as she places a hand gently on the small of his back.

He’s shaking, she realises.

Her heart twists painfully in her chest.

Then, deathly calm, Steve says, “Did you know in 7th grade, I lied and I told everyone in my class that I got appendicitis?”

Robin blinks at the change in subject, the strangeness of Steve’s comment. She does remember that, vaguely. A boy in the year above— it had been a wildfire rumour that had turned out to be true.

Or so she thought. Staring hard at the planes of Steve’s back, the pit in her stomach yawns with an anticipation of devastation. Her hand on his back curls up a bit.

“You and Dad were gone for the whole month to Washington. It was the first time you had ever gone for that long and you didn’t even tell me until the day before you left.”

“Steven—”

“I just wanted someone to worry about me.” He steamrolls on, tone too casual for the story he was telling. “And it worked."

A beat.

"But then Cassie Lange asked about the scar.”

Robin’s hand on Steve's back twists up tighter. She feels like she knows what’s coming— but wishes it to be not true.

She doesn’t want to think of Steve, little twelve year old Steve, doing all that he can for a scrap of attention he was supposed to be getting from his parents.

“And rather than admit I’d lied…” The words come out too tight. “I went and found your sewing scissors and I made one.”

There’s this icy bite to Steve’s voice, his shoulders tensed back up. Christine still hasn’t said anything.

“I hurt like a bitch but it was worth it. I got a card from every single person in my class.”

“You wanna see the scar?” He asks— then he’s moving, his hand rucking up his sweater and shirt and exposing the skin of his stomach. Christine makes a noise like a muffled gasp. Robin feels a bit sick. Steve drops his shirt.

“And I kept all of those cards I got —all 17 of them stashed them under my bed in a box that I still have til this day.” He exhales through his nose. “Because it was proof that, at some point, somebody actually gave a shit about me. Because you didn’t. You didn’t then and you don’t get to now.”

His words hang in the air. There’s a long stretch of silence where Steve stares down the woman on the porch— someone closer to a stranger than a friend.

“So, I will see you at home, tomorrow.”

And then he slams the door to Robin’s house shut with a finality that shakes the air. Robin tenses up at the loud noise. Steve doesn't move, just stays staring at the closed door.

Behind them both, one of the noisy pipes in the house makes a loud noise. It sounds worse than usual as it breaks the silence.

Outside, Robin hears the click of heels on the pavement as they quieten, moving further away.

The pit in her stomach tightens immeasurably, a faint bile taste in her mouth. She finally remembers to smooth out her hand, pressing it flat against Steven’s back— another reminder that she was there.

If he wanted to talk or he didn’t, she was there.

Suddenly Steve sighs, an exhale so large that he shrinks down a couple inches, his shoulders dropping. It sounds exhausted.

He finally turns away from the door, to Robin, and she can only hope her face conveys every ounce of love, of support, she feels within her chest.

“Steve…” She breathes softly.

He wasn’t crying but just the sound of his name, spoken so delicately, seems to inspire tears. Robin catches the tremble of his lip and moves without thought— throwing both her arms around his neck and wrestling him into a hug.

Steve goes easy, his arms snaking around her middle and holding her back so tightly it nearly makes her squeak. She doesn’t though— just lets him bury his face in her neck, taking these big shuddering breaths, these half-formed sobs that break her heart clean in half.

She doesn’t know how long they stand there. Car engines drone as they pass by the street. The streetlights seem to get brighter. Steve presses himself so close to her, as close as he can, and Robin hugs back just as tight. She gives him all the time he needs.

She wonders if there’s an indent of him on her when he finally pulls back — a Steve Harrington shaped outline imprinted on her soul. It feels like there is.

If she could trace it, she thinks, it would be whatever shape love takes.

“Thanks Robbie.” He croaks out. He’s started scrubbing furiously at his face and she can see the wet sheen of tears as he wipes them away.

Robin doesn’t move far, just unwinds her arms a bit and lets them fall back to her sides. There’s an ache between her brows from how long she’s been frowning in concern. Steve looks more disheveled than usual, his usually perfect hair looking flatter — but he looks lighter too, somehow.

“No need to thank me, dingus.” She says, voice soft. She faux punches his chest and then regrets it when his lips don’t even twitch upward. It’s weird to see Steve all undone.

Robin thinks back to that conversation and the callousness of Steve’s mom. Her uncaring tone, the use of his full name like an insult.

She thinks of what Steve had said.

“I’m sorry you felt—” The words get stuck in her throat which grows thicker as she thinks about it. About a self-made scar on Steve’s abdomen, made by a twelve year old boy who just wanted someone to worry.

“—That you felt like you had to do something like that to yourself. I’m sorry no one noticed what you really needed.”

Steve nods slowly, his eyes glazed with a far away look as he stares somewhere over Robin’s shoulder. He gives this little shrug, a little huff through his nose.

“It’s okay.” He says, voice a bit distant. “I mean, it’s not but… even if I hadn’t meant to tell you, I’m glad someone knows now.”

It takes another second before he finally seems to shake himself from his thoughts, turning to properly look at Robin. His eyes are red-rimmed and the tip of his nose is pink. Tell tale signs of tears.

“I’ve never told anyone that before.”

Robin swallows thickly and it takes effort to choke down the urge to cry.

“Well,” She starts. It comes out too high pitched and tight and she clears her throat. “Thank you for telling me.

Some kind of smile plays on Steve’s lips, as if he can tell that she’s fighting off her sniffling and it’s sorta funny to him. It is, a little.

Because instead of being embarrassed or feeling pitied, he feels… delightfully surprised to have her care so much. To be so upset on his behalf.

“Oh, c’mon Robbie,” He gives her that same faux-punch in the shoulder she did earlier and it actually succeeds in making her lips pull up at the edges. “None of that.”

“You’re such a dingus.” Robin says. It comes out a bit wobbly still. Sue her— she doesn’t have Steve’s insane ability to bounce from one emotion to another in a single second.

Steve grins. He wanders back to the couch and flops down onto it. Robin follows and when she sits down, it’s a fraction closer to him this time. He gives one last scrub of his face, wiping the last of his tears away.

She nudges him with her thigh. She has to check just one more time.

“You alright?”

Steve smiles, crooked in that way that lets her know it’s completely sincere. He reaches forward and presses unmute on the remote, the film they’re watching starting up again with a buzz.

Steve presses his thigh back against Robin’s and in the dim lighting of her living room, his eyes glitter with an emotion that threatens to make her want to cry once more.

“Course.” He says. “I got someone checking up on me now,”

Another pointed nudge of his thigh against hers. “I’m better than ever.”