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maccreadysbaby · 1 month ago

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House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: none

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

bet you didn’t know you were about to witness the absolute worst day of bentleys life

part ten

❝ FREEFALL ❞

SUNDAY — JUNE 4 — 12:11AM

THE DAYS SEEMED TO FLY BY IN A MUTED HUM, WEEKS TURNING INTO MONTHS, TIME SEEMING TO FOLD IN ON ITSELF AS THE SUMMER CONTINUED TO PROGRESS. Gotham got hotter, the days grew longer, and life continued to move.

Bellamy had gotten woefully grounded for, like, three weeks after Bruce found out about his escapade -- which wasn't very difficult, seeing as he was the best detective in the world. Bentley was just thankful he didn't get in trouble for it.

Of course, as soon as he was ungrounded, Bellamy went right back to hanging out with the same friends, though he was careful about Bruce's new curfew and location rules. (Whether he was careful about obeying them or about finding ways to inch around them, Bentley didn't know -- and he wasn't sure he wanted to.)

Life was pretty normal for a summer spent in the Manor -- long nights, bright smiles, and some of the most unbelievably enjoyable chaos -- all except the one person who was usually by Bentley's side who was noticeably missing. He made sure to text and call Vera every single day, every single moment he could. It was weird not having her around -- she'd all but lived with them over the last few years -- but the videos and pictures she posted of her living her dream made up for it tenfold. She was out there being a rockstar, and the tour was skyrocketing her band into almost instantaneous popularity. Just in the span of the two months since she'd left, they'd hit two, three, four, and then five million followers on almost every platform.

Naturally, seeing as he was in almost all of her pre-tour posts, Bentley got a large amount of people following him and messaging him and posting about him, too. He couldn't bring himself to like it very much. But if constant notifications were the price he had to pay for the girl he loved to do what she'd wanted to do all her life, he'd accept it happily.

Besides, he couldn’t bring himself to mind the notifications on that particular Sunday -- mostly because each one was a reminder that Vera had just finished up concerts in New York and was going to drop by the Manor that night to see everybody as the tour ventured through their area. It wasn’t going to be a long visit, maybe just an hour before she had to be back on the road, but he was just giddy that he’d get to see her before she was gone overseas for an unholy amount of time.

But, alas, it was only noon, and she wouldn’t be there for another seven or eight hours -- which meant he had to find a way to kill the time so he didn’t spend all day staring at a clock.

For now, his mean of distraction was sparring. Bruce had made it a family requirement for everybody in the Manor to know how to defend themselves, all the way from Alfred (who had no shame in whipping out a shotgun, so Bruce had paid top dollar for training programs Bentley was sure the veteran didn’t need.) all the way down to Bellamy, the youngest in the house. Even the dogs knew attack and defend commands, both verbal and visual.

Most of the inhabitants of the Manor trained at least a little every day, whether for their health, for their confidence, for fun, or just for a distraction. Bruce liked to test them on their progress by occasionally performing infamous random attacks in the middle of their otherwise normal lives. Bentley had been hit outside of his room, in the kitchen, and in the library, all in the past two weeks. The most notable of these frequent occurrences took place on a cloudy morning a few months ago, when Bruce decided to attack Asten in the kitchen at six in the morning. His response was to dump his cereal over Bruce’s head. Asten still boasted about how it had stopped his pursuit.

Currently, though, the sparring was not amusing, distracting, enjoyable, or any other positive words that could've possibly been associated with it. Right now, it was downright torturous -- mostly because Bentley was spending the entirety of the session plastered to the black and red mats in the batcave’s training room.

He groaned dramatically, wiping his hands over his face as he tried to catch his breath. He'd been down there for hours already -- his clothes were sticking to him and it seemed unbearably hot despite them being in a literal cave. “This is so unfair!”

“You need to be able to take down someone bigger than you at a moment's notice,” Jason replied. He was hovering nearby, wearing workout clothes but barely sparring with them at all, mostly pretending to look cool. (He had been a little miffed when he found out that Rockie had a white streak, too, claiming that he was the only one cool enough for that, and Bentley was pretty sure he’d been trying to be cooler ever since then. He wasn’t sure it was working.)

“Yeah,” Bentley wheezed, laying flat on his back and staring up at the bright LED lights that lined the ceiling above him. They were reflected in a giant wall of mirrors a few feet past Bentley's head, making the room look twice as big -- even though it was already, like, sixty-by-sixty. “But not everyone bigger than me also has super strength.”

Valor was standing in front of Bentley, his platinum wings twitching eagerly on his back as he looked down at him triumphantly, his blue eyes glimmering with something mischievous. “I was hardly trying.”

His London accent was still just as thick as the day Bentley had met him, and it made the whole sentence sound even more mocking than it already was.

Bentley glared up at him, blankly. “Yeah. I bet.”

With a snort, Valor held a hand out to him, and Bentley took it begrudgingly. The older boy hoisted him off of the mat like he weighed no more than a sheet of paper, and Bentley envied how easy it came to him. Now that he had his strength and knew the actual technique behind hand-to-hand, he was quite literally unbeatable in the training room, even besting Bruce probably more than half of the time nowadays. He’d been invited on patrol several times and, honestly, Bentley was shocked he didn’t have his own domino yet.

With a heavy exhale, Bentley rubbed a hand over his face, his eyes moving between the pair then settling on Jason. He flicked a hand in Valor's direction. “I can’t beat him. He’s, like, two feet taller than me.”

Jason snickered lightly, something like nostalgia swirling in the backs of his greenish blue eyes. He raked a hand through his black and white hair with an exhale.

“You can’t if you think you can’t,” He replied oh-so-helpfully, crossing his arms. “Your center of balance is the most valuable weapon in unarmed combat. You’ve had grappling training; remember it."

“I had grappling training against Tim and Damian -- the two smallest people in the family besides me,” Bentley grumbled, walking to one end of the room near the mirrors. There was a bench there that had his phone and water bottle on top, and he grabbed the bottle, opening it and taking a sip. “Now we’ve skipped everyone else and put me against the one with super strength.”

Jason shrugged. "Versatility."

“Who knows,” Valor continued, a playful edge in his voice. “Maybe one day I’ll turn evil and you’ll have to fight me.”

Bentley snorted, swallowing a mouthful of water and putting the bottle back on the bench. “I think I’ll just die instead.”

Valor chuckled, and Jason shook his head, amused.

“Go on. Try again," He urged, gesturing to Valor. "Valor won’t even fight back this time.”

Bentley sighed deeply, knowing full well he was about to be humiliated for likely the hundredth time that day. He stepped away from the bench and came back over, settling back into a combat ready position just across from his opponent. “Alright. But you’re paying for my physical therapy.”

Jason shook his head again with a faint smile. “Go.”

Bentley, with an exhale, shook his hands out by his sides and looked back at Valor. He was just standing there casually like nothing was happening around him. His wings were fluttering slightly in anticipation. Bentley had learned over the years how to see the minor differences in the way his wings subconsciously moved, almost like a second expression, another way to gauge how he was feeling. Though, right now, they only seemed to be taunting him.

With a grimace, Bentley tried again. He tried a single leg takedown, and when he wasn’t strong enough to move Valor that way, he tried a double leg, then a hinge move that focused more on manipulating the balance of his upper body. None of them worked in the slightest. Valor may have been caught off balance for a half second. After a while of fruitless attempts, all Valor had to do was grab Bentley’s wrist and pull it nonchalantly behind his back, and he was suddenly laying, face down, pinned to the mat by nothing more than tension.

Bentley tapped out, and Valor let go of him.

“This is pointless,” Bentley whined, rolling over so he was on his back again, staring up at the lights he was pretty sure he was on a first name basis with now.

"Hip throw him. It's the easiest takedown in the book," Jason suggested.

"What book?" Bentley mumbled, pulling himself off the mat and settling into combat position again.

Valor suddenly snickered. "The book for little people."

Bentley feigned a scowl in his direction, and Valor only chuckled at him.

"Remember, trap the shoulder, pivot, and use your entire body weight to throw him," Jason explained. "Make sure you get the full range of movement on the hinge. All your momentum comes from there."

Bentley shook his head lightly. "Okay."

"Go,"

Bentley did all the steps in perfect succession. He trapped Valor's shoulder under his own, pivoted and put his feet in the perfect position, just in line with his, but when the time came for Bentley to actually use his momentum or whatever to send Valor over his shoulder, the entire thing fell short. He felt like he used every ounce of strength inside of him, but all it really did was make Valor stumble into him and nearly knock him over.

"Keep the distance between the two of you closed at all times. This kind of combat only works if you can control the other person's body,"

Bentley reset and tried again. The second time, he could've swore Valor's feet left the floor, but a split second later he was still upright and Bentley was just holding onto him awkwardly. He tried the final throw again but it still didn't work, resulting in another two-man stumble that would've had him dead if he were in a real fight scenario.

"Make sure you get his center of balance up. Don't just imagine flipping him, imagine throwing him across a football field. That's the kind of force you need to use," Jason continued to spew tips that seemed to come naturally to literally everyone in the entire house except Bentley.

He reset again with a huff, settling just in front of Valor.

"You're not going to hurt me," Valor insisted with a sly wink. "Come on."

Bentley tried again. And again. And again. Each time he did the move brilliantly up until the last part, the main part, the actual hip throwing part of the hip throw. He was doing it right -- he knew he was, but somehow, every single time Valor either fell into him, stumbled, or stayed perfectly upright. Frustrated, Bentley tried one last time, determined to get it right.

His grip slipped at the last minute and, if not for his fast reflexes allowing him time to shoot his arms out in front of him, he'd have face planted.

With a long, defeated huff, he sat back onto his knees and shook his head, chest heaving. "I'm done -- I can't."

"Oh, come on," Jason argued, taking a step forward, his reflection coming close to Bentley's in the mirror. “I’ve seen you hip throw Dick before. He’s pretty close to Valor's size. And he was fighting back.”

“But Dick’s soft,” Bentley replied. He sat back and then laid down on the mat, folding his arms under the back of his head and giving himself a moment to breathe. He saw Valor move in the mirror, to the other end of the room where his water bottle was. “I knew I could take him.”

Jason lingered nearby and hummed thoughtfully. Suddenly, his eyes lit up as though he'd made a striking revelation, and he pointed at Bentley with a snap. “Exactly."

Bentley waited a moment. When no further explanation was given, he raised his brows at him. “What?”

“Confidence is the only thing you’re lacking. If you think you’re going to lose, you will,” He replied. “You said trying to win against Valor is pointless -- and if you feel like there’s no point, you’re going to fight like there's no point. Even if you aren’t fully aware of it. That's why you were able to beat Dick but aren’t able to beat Valor.”

Bentley sighed lightly, offering no response. Valor had taken a drink of water and was now drifting back over. Upon his arrival, he extended a hand again, and Bentley begrudgingly let him pull him out of the floor.

“Here’s some brotherly advice, then we’re done for the day," Jason started, clapping Bentley on the back like Bruce after one of his kids did something impressive. "Go into every fight like you’re hot shit-” He ordered, pointing a finger at Bentley. “-and you can’t lose.”

“I don’t think Bruce would agree with that,” Valor snickered, crossing his arms over his chest.

Jason shrugged, swinging an arm around Bentley's shoulders uncaringly. “Bruce also can’t use a toaster. His opinion is currently irrelevant."

Bentley snickered as he walked over to the benches that lined the walls of the training room, grabbing his water bottle off of it and taking a sip. He tapped his phone so the screen lit up, checking the time. He’d sparred for four hours and it was nearing four in the afternoon. Why did time seem to creep when something exciting was coming up?

With a sigh, he made his way back up to the Manor and up into his room, where he took a shower that was way longer and hotter than necessary. After that, he stared at his phone, went and played a few games of uno with a revolving door of people who lived in the Manor, listened to some songs Asten was working on (He basically had a whole music studio set up in his bedroom. Bentley was pretty sure he could have produced an entire song in there, but he never used it for himself. He always used it to work on the music he helped write for Vera.) and then did some random tasks and bored activities until, finally, he got the text that Vera was about fifteen minutes from the Manor and would be driving out there in a rental car to see everyone.

Everyone knew she was coming, but Bentley was the most excited, as he should’ve been. He spent the next ten minutes sitting on his bed; waiting for another text or the faint sound of a car outside. He scrolled uselessly on his phone — though he couldn’t bring himself to actually pay attention to anything he was seeing on the screen.

His phone suddenly rang, piercing through the air of his bedroom, and his heart jumped — but when he focused on the caller ID, it was one he hadn’t been expecting.

Chase. Vera’s lead guitar.

Bentley scrunched his face up, a sudden twinge of worry stabbing through him. With a furrowed brow, he answered the call, bringing it up to his ear. “Hey, man. What’s going on?”

“Hey,” Chase replied. He sounded unsure of himself on the other end of the line, like he felt really awkward, or sheepish. Bentley wasn’t sure why. “I was just, uh… calling to check on you.”

Bentley was utterly confused. He pulled his phone away and glanced at the caller ID again just to make sure it was actually Chase and, with a few blank blinks, he brought it back to his ear. “Uh, okay. Why?”

“What?” Chase questioned as though Bentley had said something baffling. “What do you mean why?! You know what I mean! I wasn’t just going to call and, like, just say it to your face, because, you know, that’s kind of insensitive, but-”

“Chase,” Bentley started, throwing his legs off the side of the bed and rubbing a hand over his face. “What in the world are you talking about right now?”

Bentley briefly thought Chase may have been drunk, but Vera had said they were going to be adamant about avoiding that sort of thing even at after-parties and such. He guessed it wouldn’t be hard for one of them to break the rule they’d made for themselves, but then again, Chase didn’t exactly sound drunk. He sounded… nervous. Almost sad.

“Bentley,” He whined.

“Chase,” Bentley started, slowly. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

There was a long sigh on the other end of the line, sort of exasperated, like Bentley was doing something a little irritating but Chase didn’t actually want to be irritated at him.

“The breakup, dude,” Chase replied simply. He sounded guilty for even mentioning it, an almost tangible pity and regret laced into his words.

“Breakup?” Bentley repeated, rising to his feet. “What breakup?”

Chase sighed again. “Are you serious?”

“Yes, deadly,” Bentley said, blankly, his nerves now buzzing angrily beneath his skin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. Who broke up?”

There was a third exasperated sigh. “Look, she told us not to talk to you, you know, to take her side and stuff… but I was like, you know, I should check on him, too. But if I had known you were going to pretend it never even happened-“

“Chase,” Bentley repeated, utterly flabbergasted. “Stop, stop, stop. Are you saying you think Vera and I broke up?”

“Obviously!” He retorted quickly. There was a long silence. “… didn’t you?”

Bentley stayed deathly silent for a few long moments, swallowing thick. “No, we… She's on her way here right now. She’s texting me.”

“What?” Chase murmured. “What do you mean?”

“I mean she’s coming here to see me. We didn’t break up, Chase. Who told you that?” Bentley urged. He had to fight a slight sense of panic that was trying to claw it's way up his throat. “Chase?”

“…Vera did,” Chase replied, his voice now quiet, a mere murmur, like the whole situation was too big for him. “Two weeks ago. She told us you broke up with her.”

Bentley blinked. He pulled his phone away from his ear with Chase still on the line and pulled up Vera’s instagram, scrolling down past all the concert photos. His face was still plastered all over it, smiling and laughing with her in various photographs and videos. “I… I don’t understand. Why would she say that? I’m still all over her social media. She didn’t say anything to me. I don’t…”

“She said it would hurt too much to take all the pictures down,” Chase replied carefully. Something else slipped into his tone — something like dread. “Bentley… I really hope you’re lying… or you’ve lost your mind or something.”

“Chase. Listen to me,” Bentley said, very clearly and slowly. “Me and Vera never broke up.”

There was a long pause. Then:

“Fuck,” Chase groaned. “She told us all, our managers, the team, the band… she said she didn’t want to go public with it yet…”

“Why would she tell you that?” Bentley urged. When Chase didn’t answer for a second, he pressed him on. “Chase!”

“Bentley,” He said, solemnly, slowly. “You have to believe me when I say everyone thought she was single.”

Bentley sat down again, suddenly sort of faint. He almost didn’t want to know what Chase was about to say. But he knew he needed to know.

A second passed.

“She’s been sleeping with Jaden for a few weeks now,” He said, his voice sounding like something in the distance that hardly wanted to be heard. “We… I… she must’ve told us she was single to… so we didn’t confront her, or something… I… ”

Chase spoke more, but Bentley didn’t hear him. He didn’t hear anything, really, other than a steady, piercing ring that had started to assault his ears. For a moment, he felt everything, but it was like he couldn’t feel anything at all. He was utterly blank. Emptied.

Chase was still speaking when Bentley murmured: “Thanks for telling me.” And hung up a half second later.

He suddenly felt sick. He tried to think through all the possibilities but he couldn’t seem to think. About anything. About any of it. He didn’t know what he felt. He didn’t know what he thought. He felt like someone had scraped everything out of him and only left his skin, a thin, fragile layer that would blow away in the slightest breeze.

His phone dinged.

He glanced down at it numbly. The name on the screen was Vera, and the message read: I’m here! <3

Bentley had to make himself stand up, very nearly swaying on his feet when he did. His phone slid out of his hand and plopped on his bed. He felt numb. Like he didn’t even exist.

He went into his bathroom, threw up, and then went downstairs to open the door.

—

tag list that KINDA works

@fleur-alise @sarcopterygiian @gayboss-too-close-to-the-sun

@xiaonothere

@skylathescholarly @flyrobinflyy @bookwarm0-0

@custommadeazula

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starwriterulia · 9 months ago

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Tomb of the Goshenite Stargazer Dragon - Chapter 3

SUBJECT MATERIAL WARNINGS FOR THIS FANFICTION ARE INCLUDED IN THE MASTERLIST POST OF MY BLOG AND THE FIRST CHAPTER OF THIS FANFICTION.

Bat dividers by @violetbudd

Scene cut and creator support banners by @cafekitsune

Latest revision: August 18, 2024. Added scene cut "Support your creators by reblogging" banner. Added ⏭️ emoji below end of chapter banner with text explaining its function as a navigational button.

Fandoms: DC Comics, Batfamily centric, no Batcest, Thalassic Space (OC; takes inspiration The Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim, Assassin’s Creed: Black Flag, Silent Hill 2, Silent Hill 3, and other sci-fi, fantasy and horror titles, as well as original concepts, such as the science and lore of the galaxy.)

Chapter summary: Faith shares her full life story with Barbara, who brought soup, and with Dick and Bruce. Bruce tells his wards that he thinks Faith has a story she's withholding. Dick says he sensed that too, and they agree to wait for her to share it.

[In order of appearance] Characters: Faith Lawson (TBA; self-insert), Barbara Gordon (Batgirl), Dick Grayson (Nightwing), Bruce Wayne (Batman).

Word Count: 3966 4486 (really short /still short, for something from me lol) 8165 (August 10 revision)

Content warnings: Extensive discussion about the loss of Faith's adoptive father, discussion about Faith's psychopathic ex-boyfriend Todd, brief light-hearted discussion about the difficulties of living with dwarfism, it's light-hearted because one can imagine how tiring that much talking would be for someone, especially with the flu!, discussion between Bruce, Dick and Barbara about what the story Faith might be hiding is likely about based on existing information.

Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4

My eyes and throat were so sore, but I couldn't drink too much tea, or I'd throw it up, and my legs and arms were so chafed that I was really uncomfortable, so I couldn’t close my eyes. I wished I had a maternity pillow and a soft light source. I brought my Marley wired headphones with me, and I listened to "🏴‍☠️Pirate Tavern Terrace Ambience: Night Nature Sounds, Seashore Waves & Calm Ocean Breezes 🌌" by Sam'Relaxe - Ambiance Nature. My phone was tucked under and up to the right of my pillow, and I had another pillow between my legs. I groaned and sat up, turning from my left side with a third pillow under my chest, to my right side, facing the door. I fanned my legs out and tucked on arm under the pillow I laid my head on, and the other arm over its lower corner. The bedsheet was too hot. No, my legs were too hot, so the bedsheet was too hot.

I groaned, felt a burp, let it happen. Felt tightness in my chest, too much air, tried to burp it out. The burp came after two bumps of my left fist to my sternum. I sighed. I was too hot, and I was so incredibly uncomfortable.

I couldn't focus on the sound of the waves and birds, couldn't picture myself asleep on the sheltered upper balcony of the tavern, couldn't imagine the sounds of pirates, merfolk, anthros, elves and mages mingling, gambling, singing and dancing below. I couldn't keep my little grip of a peaceful night, and so I let go of it with my gaze to the floor as the bedroom door opened. I painfully looked up and saw Bruce in the glow of the hallway, wearing a charcoal blue shirt and black slacks. I smiled a little. "That's a nice colour on you." I croaked, then coughed, and it hurt. "Ow. May I ask you for a maternity pillow for my back, 'cause scoliosis sucks, and my legs, so they don’t chafe so much, and a soft light source? My brain goes nuts in the dark, and I know we're gonna work on that, but…"

"Yes, I'll get you both of those things, Faith. You're allowed to have a nightlight." His voice was nice. I felt my eyes flutter, caught in emotion.

"Thank you."

Bruce entered the room and sat on the floor, our eyes never breaking contact. "Do you get sick often?"

"No. I think I got this from a customer."

"You don't wear a mask at work?"

"Most people don't. I know, as a Liberal who gives a crap, that I should. But I'm from a small, country town that's still learning to accept queer people. We have Pride, and it's a pretty good turnout, but you get what I mean."

"Mhm."

"You really think people are going to look at me kindly if I wear a mask in 2024?"

"That's the thing, isn't it? You learn that COVID is here to stay, about its long term affects,"

"Mhm." I nodded a little.

"And it makes you want to mask-up. I get your concern. Have you ever had COVID?"

"Nope. As you can imagine, me being a writer with physical disability and a personality disorder, I don't have much reason to go outside. But I need to, and when the snow is gone, I try to go out for walks to one of the parks that are both, like, really close to my apartment."

"Good."

"Ferland Park is the smaller one. It's got a water park, a playground that gets updated every so often, and a nice area for the Farmer's Market, every Thursday in the summer and early fall. Riverside Park has the big loop, a playground, and a sheltered picnic area, and I hear its beach and water is quite nice."

"That sounds nice. Do you like to go to the market or river often?"

"Oh, I go to the market, but I can't swim, I-I've always had anxiety in pools, so I'm like, what's the point of wading?"

Bruce hummed. "Another thing we'll have to teach you."

"Oh yeeeah. The vendors are varied enough, the food vendors are good, and there's even an open mic, if you bring an instrument or just want to sing."

"Nice."

"Yeah, it’s a nice little town."

"You haven’t told me what town it is." He probably already knows which town.

"Oh! Vanderhoof."

"Oh, I love Vanderhoof." Bruce said. I giggled. "I haven't been there in a while."

"Well, swing by some time on a Thursday in summer, and I'll take you to Fields to meet my boss, if she's there! Please buy our socks." I laughed. Bruce chuckled.

"Too many socks?"

I used the cutesy, voice my co-workers and I used. "Oh, so many socks, please help us!" I used my normal voice. "Then again, bringing Bruce Wayne on this Earth, they'll be like, "Oh wow, how did you me-et?"," Bruce chuckled. "If it's on my Earth, they'll be like, "Oh my God, that's so cool! You're gonna be Batgirl!"" Bruce chuckled more. ""And you made a perfect copy of yourself so you could be in both worlds at once? Wow!"" I said, deadpanned, "My boss will want to meet Green Arrow." Bruce laughed in his chest.

"So, along with your goals for your physical health, we've now got two other things to cover."

"Yeah. I'd really like my legs back. I forgot how to run and jump, after I broke my knee."

"Fear."

"Yep. I watch people do it, and I can't figure it out in my head."

"We can help you with that."

"Mhm!"

"And Faith?"

"Mhm?"

"It's OK if you get hurt. We'll all be there to help."

I nodded. "Thanks."

"You also look very uncomfortable and overheated."

"I aaaam. I don't sleep with clothes on. Our bodies sweat, so it's healthier and more comfortable to sleep nude. The first part of that, my mom taught me."

"Hm, well, it's true. You can take your clothes off to sleep, if you want."

"Thank you." I sat up, removed my shirt, "Ugh, ew." And threw it behind me, heard it collide with the wall, and took off my pants and underwear, and threw them in that direction too. I bent my arms in and stretched my shoulders. "Guh." Then rolled my shoulders a little.

"Your muscles sound very tense."

"They usually are." I said, and laid back down, sighing with content.

"Better?"

"Yes. Actually, there's a thin blanket, right?"

"Yep, right here." Bruce stood up and reached over me for a thin fleece blanket. His arm brushed against my lower thigh, and I failed to cover a soft exhale. "Sorry."

"You’re uh-OK." I stifled laughter in my throat and looked down at the bed.

"Faith Indianna." A light redness was in Bruce’s cheeks.

"Oh, of course you know my first middle name, without me telling you." I had three, total. The first one was given to me by my birth mom, and the other two after I was adopted.

"I am Batman."

"You are Batman. Blanket, please." I said. Bruce draped the blanket over my body from the shoulders down. "Oh, perfect. Actually, a little below the shoulders."

"Don’t wanna be too hot under there."

"Nope." I said, as Bruce took hold of the blanket and moved it to the middle of my back, briefly touching my skin and hair. His fingers were large and coarse, but the sensation of a masculine person's skin was lovely, and I didn't care this time when I let out a sigh.

"How about there?"

"That's even better."

"Good." He said, softly. I blushed. Bruce chuckled through his nose, and rose from the bed, walking to the door. "I'll leave you to sleep. Maybe you'll have better luck now."

"Thank you." I closed my eyes, and heard the door close.

Faith stirred from her light sleep as the early morning sun shone through the curtains of the guest room. She said, "Why did I have to submit to the horny thoughts just a little bit when Bruce Wayne is like the gayest bisexual man to ever be a gay-leaning bisexual man?" She giggled and groaned to cringe at herself.

"Like, I’m sure it’s fine, but in retrospect, that was just disrespectful enough that I’m sorry." She looked up at her nightstand, sat up, and grabbed her tea. It was cold, but Faith didn’t care. It helped a little bit. “Oh, how long…?”

She turned on the bedside lamp to check the time. It was 4:53 AM. “Eh, I got a little bit.” There was knocking at the door. Faith scrambled to cover her chest with the blanket. “Hello?”

“Can I come in?” It was a woman’s voice.

‘Barbara?’ Faith thought, her mouth opening all the way. “Uh, yeah girl!”

The door opened, and when Faith saw that it was Barbara, she gasped and lifted her upper lip to smile. “You knew it was me right away, huh?”

“Eh, it was more of a guess. Actually, it was all a guess.” Faith said, as Barbara entered carrying a tray with a steaming bowl and a bun, with a spoon and a little plate with butter on it, a butter knife beside the plate.

“How are ya feeling?” Barbara said, setting the tray down on the bed, at Faith’s feet.

“A little better. I probably wouldn’t have slept much better at home.”

“No?”

“No, I’d have to step outside for some fresh air. It’s still winter, so I can’t have a window open.”

“True. You don’t have a fan?”

“I do, but I didn’t think that would help.”

“Oh, it would, believe me. You can’t be hot all the time when your sick, even though that’s what your body does to fight infection.”

“Oh yeah, right. Could you grab me my shirt from the floor?” Faith pointed to the pile of clothes against the wall. “I don’t wanna get soup droplets on the blankets.”

“Sure.” Barbara went, picked up the black T-shirt, and offered it to Faith. “Here.”

“Thanks.” Faith dropped the blanket and put on the shirt.

“Oh, you had a breast reduction?” Barbara said, sitting on the bed as Faith lifted the tray into her lap.

Faith blew on what she scooped up in her spoon. “Yeah, I used to be an F cup.” She ate what was on her spoon, filled it again, and continued eating at that decent pace.

“Ooh, yeah, I get why you got rid of them. What are you, now?”

“C cup.”

“Nice. Bet your back feels better.” Barbara said. Faith nodded while blowing on her spoon. “You said you have scoliosis, but I’m assuming it’s minor.”

“Yeah. I’ve got it in two places at the small of my back, and surprisingly my adoptive mom has it in three places, at the same area.”

“Oh, OK. Is your dad doing all right?”

“He’s dead.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”

“It’s all right. Huh, I didn’t tell you guys in the group chat?”

“Nope.”

“Eh, well, I’ve had a rough life, lots to talk about.”

“Does Bruce know?”

“Yeah, he knows.”

“How did he pass?”

“Aortic dissection.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Faith inhaled and exhaled through her nose and stopped eating. Barbara shifted her lips. “When was the last time you saw him?”

“Early November. Mom, Dad and I went to the Co-op Hardware Store to buy new Christmas trees. Mom found the fully-frothed tree she’d always wanted, and I got a small tree that’s actually about my height.” Faith lifted a spoonful and blew.

“Oh nice. Did you not have one, before?”

“I had one a little shorter than me, and it was kind of skinny, and in a pot, with the lights already in it. Grandma gave it to me.” Faith blew on the spoon again and ate its contents.

“Cute.”

“Dad wasn’t feeling well. He was pale and sweaty.”

“Why hadn’t he seen a doctor?”

Faith set her spoon on the tray. “He thought his blood pressure medications weren’t being paid for, and he had to go to camp for his new job. He left his old job because of his boss, I think. When Dad’s doctor found out, he said that if Dad had called, he could have helped.”

Barbara clicked her tongue. “Oh.”

Faith picked up her spoon and filled it. “He stayed in the car as Mom and I went into the Independent Grocer that I used to work at, trying to get back into his Facebook.” She blew on the spoon. “And he kept trying, even after I failed to help, as Mom and I decorated my new tree with the decorations Grandma gave me. November 27th, I was watching YouTube, and I remember having a dream, though I don’t remember it anymore, and waking up knowing something wasn’t right.” Barbara hummed. Faith ate what was on her spoon. “At 1 PM, my brother, Tanner, texted me that Dad had fallen at his new job. We don’t know how long he was unconscious before the girl who worked at the office found him and took him to the Burns Lake hospital.”

“Are you from Burns Lake?”

Faith shook her head, filling her spoon again. “No, Vanderhoof. He was an hour and a half away. And it was 2021.”

“Oh, so you couldn’t even see him!”

“Doctor didn’t get there until four.”

“Oh no.”

“He woke up twice.” Faith blew on her spoon. “Once in Brie’s truck, once at the hospital. The nurse was pumping a dead man’s chest.” Faith moved her bottom lip with her teeth, eyes watering. “Tanner texted me just before four o’clock, offering to drive me to our grandparents, where Mom was with auntie Penny, her older sister. Auntie Melanie is the little sister.” Faith ate the soup on her spoon. She held the empty spoon in the air as she continued.

“When we got there, Grandma and Grandpa met us at the door. They had just found out that Dad was gone. Tanner softly said, “No.”, and I softly said, “Fuck, why?” as our grandparents hugged us and walked with us to the living room. I sat on mom’s right, Tanner on her other side. We cried for forty-five minutes.” Faith sighed. Barbara sighed sympathetically and rubbed Faith’s back a little. Faith lowered the spoon to the tray.

“Tanner called Dad’s brother and step-mom, Grandma Edie. She’s having a tough battle with cancer. Tanner’s girlfriend, Melanie, came over, and uncle Dale and uncle Daren, auntie Penny and auntie Melanie’s husbands. My grandpa and uncles drank beer for Dad while we all talked and cried. Auntie Ruth and uncle Russ came over when it was dark out. They live on the same street as my grandparents, and they brought pizza and sparkling water.” Faith repleted her spoon, blew once, and ate.

“I forgot my meds, so my brother drove me back to my apartment with Melanie, and a deer ran across the driveway. When I got back, I told Mom about the deer, and that it was Dad, but she shook her head. I wasn’t going to tell her, but as a pagan, I genuinely was shocked and touched that mother nature had sent a sign.”

Barbara hummed. “I like that you remember that.”

Faith sniffled and smiled a little. It sank into a frown as she continued. “We didn’t sleep well. Mom didn’t sleep at all. That morning, older cousins in town came to visit, and brought flowers and cookies. I learned that my dad not only gave money to family and friends in need, but would take time out of his day to help with mechanical problems, if he was able to. He was very much a good example of a family man, a redneck with a heart. He was from Texas, too.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah, a small town called Gilmer that’s I think five hours away from Houston?”

“Oh, OK.”

“And, uh. Oh. I know it was November 27th because SNL was doing a Thanksgiving skit.” Barbara gave a hum of intrigue. “Grandpa changed it to fishing, after a while. We watched for Dad. Most of our family loves hunting, fishing and camping. We used to do it every fall, but it takes time and money to go camping.”

“True, you need lots of supplies. What lakes did you usually go to?”

“Mm, Grizzly Lake a few times, but we stopped ��cause it’s so cramped, so fast. Frank Lake, I remember, uh… there’s a couple I’m not remembering. I liked to play with my toys and the Internet as a kid, but I was only allowed to take books, paper and writing supplies, and my brother and I used to take our bikes, when we had them. I remember the rocky shore of Frank Lake, it was nice. I love rocks.” Faith said with a funny accent and smiled.

“You love rocks, eh?”

“I love rocks. Gimme a rock that’s got some shine, or a cool colour or pattern, or transparent agate, and I will literally be so happy.”

Barbara giggled. “OK, I’ll remember that.”

“I mean, thanks to my Dragon Persona, I can grant you a wish if you give me a rock, gem, flower, plant seeds and saplings, or art of any kind, but you can also just give ‘em to me for fun.” Faith giggled.

Barbara laughed with her. “All right then! You like to garden?”

“I love plants, but I’ve never grown one on my own.” Barbara hummed. “Um.” Faith sighed. “We didn’t see Dad until two weeks later. Or was it three? No, two. I think.”

“They did a good job on him. Mom picked out a nice green and blue flannel for him.” She held up her hands. “But his hands. They were purple.” Faith laid her hands on her lap. “And I just wanted him to hold a cup of coffee, or even just a beer, again.” Barbara gently held Faith’s left hand. “I remember Mom sitting on the chair, her, Tanner, my grandparents and I about six feet away. Mom said, “I love you”, Tanner said, “Goodbye, Dad.”, and I said, “Thank you.”.”

Faith sighed. “We walked out of the room, and Mom had to sit on the bench and cry. Auntie Melanie came in, and then auntie Penny, auntie Ruth and uncle Russ, and they comforted her. We went out while my aunts and uncles saw my dad. I had to stop after I descended the stairs to cry. But when I looked at my brother, I stopped. I just… he was so close with my dad. He lost the most important man in his life, just like my mom. They were married for twenty-four years.”

“Were you close with your dad?” Barbara gingerly asked.

Faith sighed again. “Maybe? In our hearts, we were. I never spent much time with either of my parents because of my personality disorder, and j-just how difficult it was and how long it took for me to feel at home, like I had a family, after how my foster parents treated me. But I know he loved me,” Faith bowed her head and tears began to fall, her voice becoming murky. “And I know I loved him because I miss him every time I see something he liked, every time I don’t know what to make for dinner and I think of his favourite meals that I’m able to make without a barbeque, and whenever I see or hear or think of something that’s just him, and then I see him in my dreams sometimes, and it’s so surreal to almost see his face, but not quite, and hear him, but it’s not quite right either, and I just want to hug him again.” Faith sobbed.

“On Thanksgiving, C-Canadian Thanksgiving, apparently I ignored him? I didn’t even say hello or hug him! He thought he had done something wrong, and I told Mom ‘no’, and Dad dropped something off a few days later, and I hugged him, and told him I loved him, and he said it back. And before then, I missed my mom’s message about there being a barbeque on the weekend near my birthday, so I could have had his food one more time.” Faith cried, wiping her tears with the back of her hands.

“I’m sorry, Faith.” Barbara whispered, rubbing her back.

“My mom was the type of mourner who got rid of most of his stuff, and she regrets that. And she had a hard time finding love, again. Roger treats her OK, but she’s had times where I’ve had to offer my ten cents, and she’s always in awe, and the reason I know what words to say is because I read! And I like video games, and other media. I read people’s comments and watch videos of people talking about stories and characters, and how realistic and compelling they are or are not. Dad was so loved, and when we had his memorial, on his birthday that year, I think? Family, friends, and even strangers came by, and I remember hugging and crying to my mom as I looked at the pictures on the table, ‘cause there was this one of me and Tanner on the beach when we were driving down to Texas in Easter of 2008 or ‘9, and I told her I just wanted to travel and come back with stories, and now Dad would never hear them.” Faith sobbed.

“Thalassic Space exists because I lost him. Sorcery on Grace, planet Grace, was its own thing, I was just gonna do a slightly unique fantasy story, and then I made a whole galaxy so I could have Santa, and if you lost your dad and were close with him, or you just miss him like I do, then he sounds like him. Otherwise, he sounds like a German man, ha ha ha!” Barbara chuckled. “My parents saved me from my foster home. I was trying to take my time with adjusting to adult life after finally getting therapy and going to a group home in Terrace in May and June of 2019 for mental health work, which I only took advantage of during the second and last month I was there because, well, free Internet and food,” Barbara snickered. “But it worked, and I even saw a stop the violence councillor, and talked with her about my feelings and memories about my life as a foster kid, and she helped me realise I needed to talk with my mom about it. So, I did, when I came home, and I have the full picture now. The group home forgot to book my seat, but a kind Christian lady paid for me,”

“Aw.”

“And when the bus pulled up to St. John’s Hospital, and I saw Mom standing at the curb, I gasped, and I got off and hugged her and cried.” Faith sniffled, eyes still watering. “And I chatted with her as we drove to the homestead that my parents, auntie Melanie and uncle Daren bought in 2019, it’s almost seven acres out on Highway 27.”

“Ooh, nice.”

“Yeah, they’ve really made it homely. My parents had a small house built, and my aunt and uncle had a trailer home moved in. Mom started crying and reached over to touch my hair because she missed me talking.” Faith laughed through her tears. “Of the Mr. Men, I have always been Miss Chatterbox.”

“Aw.” Barbara giggled.

“I moved out the next month, in July, and then COVID got serious. It was an interesting first winter, as an adult. I-I hadn’t moved out before because of my anxiety and depression, and my one boyfriend I had, Todd, he was still in town. He’s not anymore.”

“Oh, good.”

“He was a real psycho. Tried to kill his parents and younger brother with poisonous berries from the woods outside their house.”

“Oh!”

“He hid them in his room until his mom found them, and he would’ve gone to juvey had he not cried ‘child abuse’. I think that’s why he was put in the safe home. Either that, or I only remember that because that’s how Todd put it. He said it was ‘cause his parents wouldn’t buy him the Lord of the Rings books.”

“And you were willingly friends with him?”

“Well, both of us were desperate for friends, and in our own ways, social outcasts. It was all fine, or as fine as a friendship with someone like Todd could be. On Halloween, we needed volunteer hours, and handed out candy at the Pumpkin Walk our town has almost every year. The only reason we had a Halloween without one was COVID.”

“Mhm.”

“So, we held hands in the car as our teacher drove me home first, which, if they didn’t want him to know where I lived, he should’ve been dropped off first, but I dunno. The teacher insisted I go home first.” Faith sighed. “He came over like, a week later, on a Saturday.”

“You had him at your house?” Barbara and a young man outside the door said.

“Oops.” Said the young man.

Faith gasped and smiled. “Is that you, Dick Grayson?”

“Yeah.” Dick opened the door, exposing himself.

Faith noticed a figure at the side of the door. ‘That’s definitely Bruce.’

“Sorry for eavesdropping.”

“Eh, it’s kind of a Batkid thing, ain’t it?”

“Yeeeeah.” Dick and Barbara laughed.

“You can sit on the floor if you want. Storytime is gonna take like, fifteen more minutes, if y’all wanna hear everything I remember. Maybe ten, if I continue to try to time-crunch.”

Dick and Barbara laughed more. “Sure.” Dick sat on the floor near the bed.

“Anyway, yeah, I had him over for dinner, and we played video games with my brother. Our house had two sections, a mancave above the garage connected to the other part of the house via a breezeway to the basement and a bridge to the kitchen.”

“Ooh, that’s unique.” Barbara said.

“Yeah, it was a nice house. Surrounded by a fence of tall fir trees. Or were they spruce? We lived there for two years. Then we bought the homestead. Um, over dinner, Todd did mention that he got in trouble as a kid, but didn’t elaborate, so my parents were suspicious. Mom had already been told that I should be careful around him by a teacher, who couldn’t say more,”

“Because it was confidential,” Dick said with Faith. “Right.”

“Mom asked me if he told me anything. I’m not a good liar, and I always get in trouble when I try, so she knew that I knew something, when I told her I didn’t. He was supposed to come over the following Friday, but six o’clock came and went, and I kept trying to call the safe home. He finally picked up at 6:15 saying something had come up.” Faith patted the bed. “He had a black eye on Monday.”

“He punched himself.” Said Dick.

“He first told me that the Bible-thumping ex-friend he told me about at the library, which we frequented, gave him a ‘hello’ present. That day, I went outside with him, and watched him go into an insurance building as I went to the store I now work at for candy.”

“He was paying off a felony, wasn’t he?” Dick said.

“Bet you he was.” Said Barbara.

“When I told my mom this story, she basically said it was bullshit and to ask him what really happened. The next day, he said that a staff lady had punched him, and then he went to the police.”

“Still doesn’t explain the felony.” Said Dick.

“Dick, she’s trying to say all of this as quick as possible.” Barbara said.

“Sorry. Sorry, Faith.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” Faith said, exhaling. “Gives me time to breathe.” Barbara giggled. “Mom didn’t believe that either, of course. OK, I usually don’t say this when I’m telling this story, but I’m missing a day in my memory.”

“You are?” Said Dick.

“I know the last time we went to the library was Thursday, and we hugged goodbye on Friday. So, either Mom found out about Todd’s black eye on Tuesday, not Monday, or I forgot what happened on Wednesday because nothing happened.”

“Hm, OK. Just something to note?”

“Yeah, just a little gap in my usually really good memory.”

Bruce poked his head through the doorway. “Sorry.”

“Hi, no, you’re fine.”

“That’s not important to why Ra’s brought you here, is it?”

“No, it’s just my brain not remembering.”

“OK.” Bruce occupied the doorway.

“Anyway, Thursday,” Bruce came into the room, sitting beside Dick. “Wow, what a nice little story time circle we have going on, here.”

“It is, isn’t it?” Barbara said. She, Dick and Faith laughed. Bruce’s body moved.

“We knew we were going to be broken up, and we sat on the couch at the kids’ section. We didn’t kiss, thank God,”

“No kidding, yeesh!” Barbara said.

“But we did kiss each other’s hair, which was just as awkward and dread-filled as the entire forty-five minutes we sat there. In hindsight, I feel a different kind of dread than I did.”

“Oh yeah.” Said Dick.

“Todd sounds like he was scary.” Bruce said.

“Yeah, and now I can’t read or hear that name without panicking a little, and I don’t like men with particularly triangular faces. Extra red flags if he has blue eyes and curly dark blonde hair. He was cute, but now I realise he looked like an abusive pretty blond who thinks Andrew Tate is all the shit, and I just get the ick.”

Barbara hummed. “Yeah.”

“So, that day, while we were at Valhalla, I think in the morning, he told me the truth. Because none of the staff would drive him to my house, because he’s dangerous, he went outside, where there were cameras, gave himself the black eye, and went to the police, saying that a staff lady did it,”

“Hence the felony.” All four said.

“Yep.” Faith said.

“Knew it.” Said Dick.

“I remember looking at him as we were in the little computer room, asking him why. And he said he just wanted to see me. And my mom knew that was true, he did actually like me, and I felt the same. He just was not a safe person.”

“You can say that again, yeesh.” Said Barbara.

“We weren’t allowed to go outside together on Friday, and before we hugged goodbye, he gave me his favourite necklace: a silver Triforce on a black string.”

Barbara asked, “Do you still have it?”

“No. Some time earlier in that semester, Todd had given me a bunch of his stuff. A couple of D&D books by a famous author, and some banned, older Yu-Gi-Oh! and MTG cards. It was pretty cool stuff. He’d also given me a green bandana that smelled like him to me, but it just smelled like his wool jacket, and rain. When I got home on Friday, my parents had, of course, been asking around, trying to find out what Todd did. His uncle drove a truck for the logging company my dad was the shop foreman of, and that’s how Dad found out.”

“Ahhh.” Said Dick.

“My memory of the lecture is kinda hazy, but I think that’s just because I was so dazed that I had been manipulated so easily by my first close friend since Lisa, and before her, Fenna, both a year, or maybe it was two, after the other. Lisa was a Jehovah’s Witness who was using anime and yaoi to rebel, and Fenna was a wolf girl. Both of them loved writing and reading, like me, and were social outcasts who couldn’t even hang with the punk kids. Lisa stopped rebelling near the end of my tenth-grade year, and I know that because I broke my knee after she dropped out, but that was because she was being bullied. She didn’t tell me, her friend, that she was being bullied. Not my friend.”

“Not your friend, all right.” Barbara said, nodding.

“Fenna and I had an argument. Don’t remember what about, but I said something, as I tended to do, and it hurt her, but I didn’t understand why because I was probably being brutally honest. I haven’t talked to Lisa in years, though she did dye my hair brown the summer I moved out of the homestead. Fenna, I see now and then, and they’re now non-binary and pansexual, so it’s cool to have that in common.”

“Nice.”

“And we get along better. She doesn’t remember what the argument was about, either.”

“Oh, good.”

“Anyway, I remember doing the dishes that night, it was usually my chore, and I’m always mumbling or singing to myself ‘cause my brain is busy and there’s imaginary people in my head, always stirring up some kind of scenario. I don’t think I was, that night. I must have been so quiet that my parents noticed, ‘cause they came in to hug me and tell me they were sorry. Mom kissed me for the first time. The next time was a few weeks after we lost Dad, and we were sitting in her truck after doing something in town together.”

“When I came back from the group home, we finally connected, but I really got to see how emotional and special my mom is, when Dad died. Uh, Mom helped me write a letter to Todd, and she brought his stuff to Valhalla and brought back the rest of my schoolwork for the semester. I kept his bandana, but couldn’t for the night, the day she returned the stuff. I came out of my room crying, and told my mom to hide it, ‘cause I couldn’t have it. And she said, ‘Oh-Kay!’, in a very baffled way, and put it in the master bedroom. I think I remember finding it, later. I just left it there. I think I remember giving it a stank face.”

“Like the one you’re making right now?”

“Yeah.” Faith laughed. “I was so depressed when school started again that I had no energy or desire to do my schoolwork. I handed in the last of it, and a few pages related to poetry weren’t done because I hated it, which is funny because I’m a writer and I write songs, and that was just enough to pass. I was one of the kids whose yearbook picture was taken in the media arts room, instead of the auditorium. I had a blackheads issue on my nose, and I’ve always been a skin picker, and to that extent, a scab picker.”

“Todd’s yearbook quote was about him being excited to travel to Japan and Korea with me. I don’t remember my quote, exactly, but it was about me wanting to publish and something else I wanted to do at the time. And my name isn’t on the back of the book, because they didn’t think I would graduate. Didn’t do prom or grad. I probably would’ve hated both.”

“The one school dance I went to in early tenth grade, I danced alone for most of the time. It was exhausting, boring, and depressing.” Barbara clicked her tongue. “I wanted to see what they were like, is all. I danced with a sort-of friend, a girl who was nice to me, probably because she had seen the little bit of light that my disorder shadowed. But she remembered the shadow again because I probably reminded her of it, so our friendship ended.” Barbara and Dick hummed.

“And grad just sounds boring. I would’ve been looking at the audience, observing people’s hair, clothes, faces and accessories, trying to learn something, and been brought out of la-la land by my name being read aloud.”

“Ah, so you literally zone-out while studying people.” Said Dick.

“Yeah! It’s part of my disorder.”

“What were you trying to learn?” Barbara said.

“How friendship worked.”

“Oh.”

“My books, toys, digital media, the Internet, that was all I had. Because I wasn’t nice to my brother, I didn’t learn from him, and our personalities and interests clashed. He wanted to play racing games on the Wii, and I wanted to play LEGO games because they were telling a story without using words, and I could look up the story online and even ask Mom and Dad if we could watch the movie. Tanner had LEGOs, by the way. It and the video games were supposed to help with his hand-eye coordination and his nystagmus.” Barbara hummed.

“Anyway, if I had done grad, Mom probably would have told me she thought I was going to miss my call, and I would have told her ‘No, I wouldn’t have’, and she would have said, ‘Yes, you would have, Faith’, probably condescendingly. Did I use the right tone, when I said that?”

“Yeah, that sounded right.” Said Dick.

“OK good, I get vocal tones wrong sometimes, when I’m not using my customer service voice. Even that breaks, sometimes. Yeesh. Dad would have been smiling, just glad that I got through it, and Tanner would’ve been awkwardly glad, too. Like I said, I was really mean to him. Then my mom literally slapped me, pulled my hair and called me a cow, some time in tenth grade.”

“Ow.” Said Barbara.”

“Or was it would-have-been-eleventh? Did I tell you I tried homeschooling?”

“Yes, in the group chat.”

“OK, good. Did I tell you that being on QuoteV while I tried homeschooling is how I assumed the title of pansexual?”

“No, you did not.” Said Dick.

“Uh, painful story short. I told you I’m an Internet addict, right?”

“Yeah.”

“OK, Homestuck was popping off in 2015. That’s how, but I was also discovering how awesome American horror movies, Creepypasta and SCP are, and I made a friend.”

“Yay, Faith!” Barbara cheered.

Faith and Barbara giggled. Faith said, “I lost touch with my Homestuck friends, and I even remembering hurting and apologising to one of them that I was pretty close with. But this genderfluid friend, who is now Michael, they weren’t particularly cute or handsome. Buckteeth, big eyes, ovular face. But I trusted them, and we had a lot of good times together.”

“So much that we tried being a couple. For one day. No, five minutes. See, part of my disorder is that I say things out of the blue. I’m an impulsive speaker, and when I was younger, even up to the end of high school, I was an impulsive actor. My mom had a friend over when I came out, and it didn’t go well.”

“Well, of course it wouldn’t, what did you expect, hon?” Said Barbara.

“I was just so excited to give my mom a new word to explain why I was so weird! And she had already suggested I might be autistic, but that made me cry ‘cause 2012-2017 was even less of a friendly time for neurodivergent kids. Not that I had any friends to worry about, I just felt like it made me even more of an ugly duckling.”

“But that means you’re a swan.” Bruce said.

“Oh yeah. Thanks. I’m too used to being mean to myself.”

“Time for that to change, Faith.” Faith lifted her cheeks to smile. Bruce mirrored the motion.

Dick said, “So, how did you react, when you got diagnosed with your disorder?”

“Everything made sense! I felt better! For the record, now that I’m more familiar with how autistic people actually live, how most of them are just friendly people who literally see and interact with the world differently, I-I just feel less stressed, and I think they’re cool! It’s always neat to learn from the person themselves, or whoever is assigned to help them, what their experience is like.”

“Oh, definitely.”

Barbara said, “Would you feel those good thoughts towards yourself, if you were to be diagnosed, today?”

“Yeah. It’d make sense. I think there’s a bit of overlap. I’m probably Level 1, or borderline, and both would be good.”

“Good.”

“Uhhhh, where the heck was I…? Oh! Michael. He commented on one of my K-pop album unboxing videos that I made in 2019, and it was nice to hear he was doing all right. But I turned off the comments of the videos because I was trying to obey my mom’s insistence that I was not gay.”

“For four years, I was vaguely transphobic. Trying to convince myself that my mom was right, but something just felt off, when I tried to look at them meanly. It’s because I loved them. I love queer people, and while I don’t know any neo-pronouns or xeno-genders, if a person with them were to be comfortable around me to share, I would use the heck out of them. Because it’s right, and it’s who they are.”

“Damn right, girl!” Barbara said.

“Damn right!” Faith repeated. She, Barbara and Dick laughed. “All of that, just to please my mom. Just to make her shut up and like me.” Faith was quiet for a few seconds.

“My dream world mom is like that. We argue. I try to kill her, lots of the time, and she tries to kill me back. It’s just like our arguments we had when I was a kid and teen, but without the violence. The same reddened face, the same raised voice, and my tears and stammering. She’s still transphobic.” Faith’s phone vibrated and jingled.

'I believe Chandra just gave Faith an update from the future about that issue.' Bruce thought.

“But I finally stopped giving a shit, when I moved out and reconnected with the community after I turned off the comments. I wish I hadn’t, so I could read the little conversation I had with Michael. But I’ve got my Homestuck friends now, even though I don’t interact with them often ‘cause I’m either at work, doing house work or other things. I’ve always played by myself, and playing with other people is a challenge. I have times where I have to keep my mouth shut so I’m not narcissistic, but sometimes I fail to do that, and I want to apologize, but instead I try to focus, but by then, the topic or joke has changed. All of this because my foster parents didn’t give a damn.”

“That’s rough, Faith.” Said Dick.

“Yeah, that sucks.” Barbara said.

“Thanks. Geez, that’s not even talking about my physical struggles! Basically!” Faith clapped once. Barbara giggled, and Dick snickered. A breath came from Bruce. “Being a dwarf sucks! It’s hard!”

“Short arms! Almost long enough to reach what I need to, but nope! Scoliosis! Mine ain’t debilitating, and it doesn’t affect my posture that much, but I can’t sit or stand for too long, and I can’t sleep on my back, even with smaller boobs! Except for when they were healing after my surgery, but my back did hurt in the morning. I toss and turn about eight times, sometimes less, or much less if I’m exhausted and in pain already, and I sleep on my stomach with my arms tucked under my chest like a penguin.” Faith put her arms straight down over her boobs and giggled. Barbara and Dick laughed. “And no, this doesn’t make them numb! The left one can be, if I sleep with it under a pillow, though.”

“Huh.” Said Barbara.

“Interesting.” Dick said.

“Oh God, my feet. Did I tell you about them, in the group chat?”

“Yep.”

“You did.” Said Barbara.

“Oh, good. ‘Cause they suck, too. Last but not least, my knees. Did I tell you the story?”

“Yes.” Said Barbara, Dick and Bruce.

“And the story of your foster care life, and adoption.” Said Dick.

“Oh wow, I actually told you that, before now? Nice.” Barbara giggled. Faith sighed. “OK! I think that’s all the details you need to know that I didn’t tell y’all, yesterday.”

“Thank you, Faith.” Said Bruce.

“Yeah, thanks.” Dick said. “That was really helpful.”

“And interesting!” Barbara said. “You’ve had such a detailed life, in twenty-four years!”

“I’m going to eat my soup, now.” Faith picked up the spoon and ate.

“Is it cold, now?”

"It's warm, but it’s fine. I’ll puke it up later, and that’ll be fine too. I’ll just keep stuffing my face with soup until my stomach stops being angry, and then the moon will be like IT’S TIME.” Barbara laughed loudly.

“Yep, all right.” Dick said, standing up. “Did you get any sleep?”

“Three hours, give or take.”

“Well, that’s all right, I guess.”

“I’ll get more.”

“Yep.” He said to Barbara, “I’ll be downstairs.”

“OK, babe.”

Dick said to Faith, “See you when you’re not sick, Faith.”

“OK, bye! Thanks for visiting.”

“Bye.” Dick exited the room.

“Got everything you need, hon?” Barbara said.

“I think so. Oh, no. Actually, yeah.”

“Hm?”

“My tea can stay cold for now.”

“Oh, your tea!” Barbara dismounted the bed, stepped around and grabbed the cup. “Sure, I can heat that up for you. I’ll even throw it in a little thermos, so it’ll stay warm.”

“Oh, that’d be great, thank you.”

“Mhm! Back in a sec.” Barbara left the bedroom.

“Do you tell your story often?” Bruce asked.

Faith nodded. “I make friends easily, now. I just don’t talk to them often, er, well, my Homestuck friends, because, like I said,”

“I make myself busy.” “You make yourself busy.”

Bruce said, “That’s OK. It’s good that you don’t have issues making friends, now. Maybe we can help you with your time management, too.”

“Oh, that’d be nice. A real challenge, but I’d like to try that, too.”

“It’s hard to break a habit you’ve had all your life.”

“Yeah. It’s possible, though.”

“Oh yes.” Bruce inhaled and got to his feet. “I’ll be off, too. I was just checking on you when I heard you talking with Barbara, and then Dick was standing there, so I joined him.” Faith giggled. “Oh, and don’t worry about that.”

Faith furrowed her eyebrows. One second later, she inhaled. ‘OH, the skin-grazing thing I was panicking about.’ “Oh, oh good. Thanks.” She chuckled. She furrowed her brow again. ‘Wait, I said that before Barbara came in.’ “There’s a spyhole to this room, isn’t there?”

“What makes you think that?”

“Your parents’ bedroom is to the left of this one. You never go in there. Ooh, no! It’s a spying room.”

Bruce said nothing for two seconds. “The Internet has my house plans.”

“Someone on DeviantArt made them.”

“Well, they’ve got a creative mind.”

“Apparently, it took them a lot of time and research to make it work.”

“I bet it did.” Bruce approached the bed, took the crown of Faith’s head into his hand, and kissed her head. “Have a good rest of your sleep, Faith.”

“Thanks, Bruce.” Faith said. Bruce exited the room, leaving the door cracked open. Dick knew the small head movement Bruce made to pull him aside. Barbara tailed along, out of curiosity.

"There's a story she hasn't told us yet." Bruce said, quietly.

"You think so too?" Said Dick.

"I dunno, I think she got it all out." Barbara said.

Bruce shook his head. "There's a memory she's ashamed of. One that she feels will offend us too greatly."

"Gee, what could that be?" Dick said.

Barbara said. "I guess all there is to do is wait for her to share with us."

"We could also try to coax it out of her." Said Bruce.

"No." Said Dick.

"No!" Barbara said, hushed.

"Bruce, she could probably use Platonia to leave us whenever she wants to. Then it'd be her, without any help or training, against Ra's, and she'd be doomed."

"Exactly." Said Barbara.

Bruce said, "She wouldn't leave out of fear of our reaction. I think it's a story she's been wanting to tell someone who will understand why it wasn't her fault. That it was just another mistake she made as a child, that, I'm guessing, she was disciplined for immediately. This is a story she has likely only told to her closest friends, who she doesn't talk to because of lifestyle and socialisation habits." Dick and Barbara hummed, each nodding.

"She needs a new close friend to share this with." Barbara said.

"Yes."

"She doesn't share it because she was dicisplined without an explanation."

"People with Reactive Attachment Disorder know right from wrong, just like any other child. What matters is how, and how frequently, their guardian corrects their behaviour. Faith was likely disciplined many, many times by her adoptive parents, but it didn't make any difference because they never explained in extensive detail why her actions were wrong, or perhaps did once, but never did again. She'll share her story. And she'll need a hug instead of a scolding."

"Right." Said Dick.

"She's been so willing to share her life story because she was left behind by the people who were supposed to never do so. When I reached over to grab that light blanket for her, my arm brushed her leg, and she made a small lewd gasp, and blushed, and apologised, though I let her know it was fine. I think the story she's afraid to tell us is related to why her hormones are so bottled up, and maybe why she found asexuality to make sense for her identity. It might not be sexual assault, it might just be Internet exposure."

"Mhm." Barbara nodded.

"We should try not to judge if she intitated the act with her Internet addiction and lack of meaningful parental guidance in mind, and tell her that what happened is in the past."

"Absolutely." Said Dick.

"She is obviously very affected by the memory. We have to try to help her move on, as well as conquer her fears. Then we can properly train her body."

"Yeah." Dick nodded.

Barbara bobbed her head, too. "OK."

"I'll be in the cave. Thank you for coming to visit her, Dick, Barbara."

"Our pleasure." Said Dick. Faith finished her soup, put the tray on the nightstand, and laid on the right side of her ribs. Her eyes felt heavy, and her throat was sore from talking. Barbara knocked on the door, making Faith jolt.

“Oops! Sorry, hon!”

“No, you’re fine. Come in.” Faith said. Barbara entered with a small two-tone grey thermos cup.

“Here you are.” Barbara said, switching the places of the cup and the tray.

“Oh, thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome. You going straight to sleep?”

“I think so.” Faith yawned, then nodded, Barbara giggling.

“You’re welcome to text me or Dick anytime you need to get something out, or have a question you don’t wanna ask Bruce for some reason, or anything else, OK? You can even call us, if we’re available. I think you, as a person from Earth-33, know as well as we do, that he’s not exactly the best at extending his emotions.” Faith sleepily bobbed her head in agreement against the pillow. “OK. And we are taking you of the house when you’re done being sick!”

“Yay! Yes, I remember from the group chat.”

“Good. All right, my girl. Have a good rest and get well real soon.” Barbara smiled. Faith mimicked her. Barbara left the bedroom with the tray and closed the door. Faith relaxed her body and fell asleep right away.

Click emoji to navigate to next chapter. ⏭️

#dc comics fanfiction #dc comics #dc crossover #batfam #batfam oc #barbara gordon #batgirl #dick grayson #nightwing #batman #bruce wayne #thalassic space #tomb of the goshenite stargazer dragon #starwriterulia writes

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tricobicofriend · 1 year ago

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su half agate si au 2: resident evil 7-village crossover

ramblings & snippets from my original text dump of this concept/s under the cut

resident evil 7

ethan calls her instead of steven in to help find his wife because steven is v well-known, & he(ethan) doesn't want media attention over his wife's disappearance.

-the gloves are tech from yellow--they give strength 7 can secrete corrosive & sticky substances, plus protect her hands!

-the goggles are glasses from white--they record everything she sees (she can turn them off with a signal from her gem), can take pictures, help her see in the dark, & can send parts of the recording/s to white!!

-the stars were made by steven & the cgs!! they have a tracker in them & allow her to talk to "home base" on any mission! (home base can be the main cgs, just steven, or any other trusted gem/s!!) they also function as strap buckles!!

-overalls are just regular, waterproof & fast-drying, human clothing

-u can't see it but she's wearing boots

-considering having the shirt be laced w technology from blue's court that can lessen pain (happy clouds) or keep her temperature at a comfortable level

ethan, to a literal cop: hey, you have to give me your gun. half-agate si: oh my god, winters, you can't just ask cops for their guns!! also si saves the cop bc he's the only exception to acab

mae(half-agate self insert) after "papa"'s fucking shoulder face pustule blows up on her & ethan: "uhhh…that's nasty. imma go throw up--" cw EWWW general re grossnes

So, i'm giving mae chemical knowledge (she learned in order to help use diamond essences for human ailments) so she uses some of the diamond essence stuff stored in her gem to help make enough cures for all of them. So all four get to leave.

Mae & ethan fuse for the final battle with papa, and ethan's fungus strength boosts mae's electricity powers (since holly blue's whip is electrified, blue agate mom gets electricity powers & so does mae) to just fry the shit out of him and destroy him completely.

They unfuse to fit on the boat, but when something rocks it by the big-ass boat, mae grabs ethan's hand, an unspoken word of "we need to protect them" goes thru their eyes, & they fuse, grab zoe & mia, then jump onto the boat.

Mae has them crawl thru the tunnels with ethan in front & her in back. Zoe asks why & mae says it's bc her & ethan r the only one w weapons & who've had food recently. Anyways they all escape safely bc i said so

resident evil 8/village

When the first shot rings out, zoe & mae press mia down, & mae bubbles mia & zoe and sends them to the temple, but can't prevent the capture of the baby, herself, or ethan. The agents pull out mae's gem & throw it far away or put it in a containment unit (or just use a device that disables both her gem & human sides), and((the following is to set up re village w avi & moon as ethan's companions)) she wakes up either at the carcrash site or at a gem settlement, maybe desperately sending word to avi & moon?? That, or she pinned a distress signal thingy to ethan, & avi & moon picked it up.

mae: ah, looks like someone was punched through a wall here. ethan: ...i'm afraid to ask, but why do you know what that looks like?mae: got punched thru a wall once. : D

Imma say mae saves the old shotgun dude & he books it (which she don't blame him for, bc zombies terrifying), but then she gets taken somewhere else & meets back up w ethan at the castle? And in the lil village itself, ethan meets avi & moon?

I was just thinking of like. Ethan coming back to castle dimitrescu post-game (i still haven't seen anything further than entering heisenberg's factory) & seeing lady d holding mae(who was like, insurance both to protect lady d's daughters & to ensure ethan wouldn't try to sneak around & kill them) up with one hand and brandishing her claws with the other & he's like "what the FUCK is going on you said she'd be SAFE--" & mae just blurts out "she's giving me top surgery!!!" in an attempt to break the tension They all never talk about it again😔

#re7 #re8 #revillage #re village #re 7 #steven universe #su si #su mae #su re mae #my drawings

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honeybeefae · 2 years ago

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Askbox Wednesday!

This might not get as much attention which is fine but this askbox Wednesday I decided to post questions about myself!! Ask away and I’ll answer any question you have! 💋

GET IN MY BUSINESS PLEASE:

The meaning behind my url:

A picture of me:

How many tattoos i have and what they are:

Last time i cried and why:

Piercings i have:

Favorite band:

Biggest turn offs:

Top 5 (insert subject):

Tattoos i want:

Biggest turn ons:

Age:

Ideas of a perfect date:

Life goal:

Piercings i want:

Relationship status:

Favorite movie:

A fact about my life:

Phobia:

Middle name:

Height:

Are you a virgin?

What’s your shoe size?

What’s your sexual orientation?

Do you smoke, drink, or take any drugs?

Someone you miss:

What’s one thing you regret?

First celebrity you think of when someone says attractive:

Favorite ice cream?

One insecurity:

What my last text message says:

Have you ever taken a picture naked?

Have you ever painted your room?

Have you ever kissed a member of the same sex?

Have you ever slept naked?

Have you ever danced in front of your mirror?

Have you ever had a crush?

Have you ever been dumped?

Have you ever stole money from a friend?

Have you ever gotten in a car with people you just met?

Have you ever been in a fist fight?

Have you ever snuck out of your house?

Have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

Have you ever been arrested?

Have you ever made out with a stranger?

Have you ever met up with a member of the opposite sex somewhere?

Have you ever left your house without telling your parents?

Have you ever had a crush on your neighbor?

Have you ever ditched school to do something more fun?

Have you ever slept in a bed with a member of the same sex?

Have you ever seen someone die?

Have you ever been on a plane?

Have you ever kissed a picture?

Have you ever slept in until 3?

Have you ever loved someone or miss someone right now?

Have you ever laid on your back and watched cloud shapes go by?

Have you ever made a snow angel?

Have you ever played dress up?

Have you ever cheated while playing a game?

Have you ever been lonely?

Have you ever fallen asleep at work/school?

Have you ever been to a club?

Have you ever felt an earthquake?

Have you ever touched a snake?

Have you ever ran a red light?

Have you ever been suspended from school?

Have you ever had detention?

Have you ever been in a car accident?

Have you ever hated the way you look?

Have you ever witnessed a crime?

Have you ever pole danced?

Have you ever been lost?

Have you ever been to the opposite side of the country?

Have you ever felt like dying?

Have you ever cried yourself to sleep?

Have you ever sang karaoke?

Have you ever done something you told yourself you wouldn’t?

Have you ever laughed until something you were drinking came out your nose?

Have you ever slept with someone at least 5 years older or younger?

Have you ever kissed in the rain?

Have you ever sang in the shower?

Have you ever made out in a park?

Have you ever dream that you married someone?

Have you ever glued your hand to something?

Have you ever got your tongue stuck to a flag pole?

Have you ever gone to school partially naked?

Have you ever been a cheerleader?

Have you ever sat on a roof top?

Have you ever brushed your teeth?

Have you ever been too scared to watch scary movies alone?

Have you ever played chicken?

Have you ever been pushed into a pool with all your clothes on?

Have you ever been told you’re hot by a complete stranger?

Have you ever broken a bone?

Have you ever been easily amused?

Have you ever laughed so hard you cried?

Have you ever mooned/flashed someone?

Have you ever cheated on a test?

Have you ever forgotten someone’s name?

Have you ever met someone who didn’t seem real?

Give us one thing about you that no one knows.

#askbox wednesday #personal #im so excited!

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m4x-smashstappen · 4 months ago

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Hello! I just wanna say: If you wanna step away from Lestappen, go ahead! :)).

You are far from the first person that has complained about bias in Lestappen, and sadly, you will not be the last; I'm guessing this is because both of them have such commited fanbases? I would like to hear your opinion, if you are in the mood, because it is quite clear you're very frustrated right now.

I had a similar experience with a different rpf pairing, where many fics turned on my ship in the 'last chapter' (or they never really supported my ship from the start; the red flags were there but I crossed my fingers and sailed on anyways) and they always left a very bitter taste in my mouth. It was so clear that these people were fans of the more 'popular' one of the two and always removed the other from the story somehow (made him a depressed a-hole, made him an addict, killed him in the end, the list goes ON). I was a fan of the less 'popular' one of the two, and stopped reading fics and only read fics my friends recommended because of how many fics got on my nerves.

I, to this day, have only read two Lestappen fics, because I am scared of the same sh't happening (because I know there are so many Charles fans that don't really care for Max or Lestappen, or worse, self-insert using Max). It is your decision to step away from Lestappen, I am happy for you, and I hope if you ever wanna be in the community again, you don't end up reading content from people who are so clearly biased. I also hope you kept posting on Tumblr :D.

Regards, from a Max girlie (SORRY for this entire 'Bible' worth of text)

Hi, nony!

First of all, never apologise for sending long asks or any asks at all, you are more than welcome to rant and vent to whatever length you want.

Second, I'm going to be honest with you anon, as much as I go on a tangent about things, some are pretty much set in place and unlikely to change, ever, lestappen is one of them, the genuine mutual respect and clear fondness they have for each other, nony, as long as that is there I will alway love lestappen, even in the darkest lowest point in lestappen's interactions, the famed Austria 2019 or the inchident, it was still there, yes, they were angry with and at the other, but there was still that possessiveness of 'my rival', so yeah, very much still obsessed with lestappen is me.

Though, I will take a big step back from interacting with the lestappen community. It's not the bias in this ship that bothers me that much, it's the fact that the more popular it grows the more people who have no interest in them as drivers start claiming to like lestappen so that they get readers or followers.

I can see how the Charles fans, who are almost like a...I don't know a good word for it but...the best way to explain is this: Charles has always been Ferrari and Ferrari is a religion. I am going to take a short journey to the past (reference very much intended 😆 I think I'm funny, but really, I'm not), Ferrari is the oldest team in F1 and not just F1, Ferrari has been a force in motorsports and a name associated with racing cars since the creation of this brand (watch the movie Ferrari, it explains much better than I could ever why Ferrari is so important for motorsport), coming back to F1 Ferrari is like the royal house, it's not even about them being the most successful team in F1, which they are, and having the most championships, almost double the 2nd team, it's how deeply intertwined Ferrari and Formula 1 are, to the point that there is no Formula 1 without Ferrari (speaking of, the thing that bothers me about new fans is them not looking into history and dismissing just how important Ferrari is to F1, Formula 1 is Ferrari and Ferrari is Formula 1, one should learn from history, but nope, for annoying new fans there is only the now, history is past; idiots). I think you get the picture, Ferrari is big, Ferrari is a religion, Charles being basically raised as Ferrari has a huge, devoted fanbase, so yeah his fans are very committed.

Max, on the other hand, is relatable, real, human, he is not charming, not PR trained (when I say PR trained I mean the actual final result, the careful with what they say, perfectly knowing how to play the media, how to look like a victim, what to say to look favourable, shifting blame without actually doing it, public image oriented etc, not just the PR training all drivers go through, some drivers are more or less sticking to their PR training, but mostly it's PR all way always), he is blunt, what you see is what you get with Max. He is representing a country proud of its athletes and nationalistic, but I don't think it plays any role, at least not in the lestappen dynamics (nor any tbh, there are so many, maybe more than Dutch fans, people who support Max without being from the Netherlands, but we are talking about lestappen here so). Max fans are protective of him mainly due to the immense unjust hate he has been receiving. Since he was so young when he started in F1, his honesty and bluntness weren't chiseled so it got people freely acting like Max is this arrogant pr*ck, also him not revering the Brits and calling them out, calling out the bias in this sport, it pretty much made him the main target, it also didn't help that he is incredible and the full package, talent, hard work and brains, it's so rare to have all 3 in a champion, even less in a driver, so you have the perfect person to hate in Max, envy for how good he is and the tails he steps on due to his bluntness. This made Max fans very protective of him.

So you have the totally devout Charles fans with the fiercely protective Max fans in lestappen.

I don't know if I answered your question how you expected anon, sorry about that. It comes down to why these fanbases are how they are to their favourite drivers. You could say they are committed, but I think it's a bit more complex.

Anyway, the bias in fics is due to the influx of people who are multi-shippers, and multi-drivers fans, which don't care much if at all about lestappen, writing fics about this ship for various reasons, but the one causing most conflict, so to speak, is writing because it brings readers and not actually caring about the pair.

I'm sorry you experienced that, anon. Also it is very bad writing etiquette to not put warnings, no-one gives a f*ck about your 'it spoils the plot', b*tch, it's fan fiction, not an award winning novel, put the d*mn warnings and if you have multiple ships, state which is endgame, for f*cks sake, you are no competing for a literature Nobel prize, show some sympathy to your readers.

But people are greedy and horrible, so my advice, anon, is to wait for the fic to be completed, go straight to the end/last chapter and see who ends up with whom. This way you won't have an unpleasant reading experience.

As you can see, not even the popular ships are safe, and the more popular the ship the more people who only care about having kudos, comments and many views than they ever do about the pair they write.

Funny story, when I first started reading F1 RPF, that was before Charles' pretty face graced F1, I was a multi-shipper and I read all sorts of pairs, but I did like maxiel, it was the puppy love, Max's teenage crush on older cool Daniel, it was cute. That being said, there was a tendency there to diminish Max, Daniel was the greatest and Max always needed to thank all heavens Daniel even looked his way. Anyway, the fic that ended maxiel for me was one where, long story short Max was in love, Daniel acted in love, Max tells him he loves he, Daniel doesn't say it back, Max crashes in the race and dies, Daniel some time laters meets someone else and gets married, whatever, the drop which filled the glass for me, and ended the ship, was Daniel saying at his wedding speech how he never loved Max, he didn't know what love is until he met x person he was marrying, and I was like no, done with this. Then Charles came into the picture and lestappen and I actually got it, I understood what that author meant, ironically. Maxiel was cute, puppy love, crush, but lestappen is equals, fierce, real. For me Daniel and Max as brothers or best friends in fics make so much more sense because of their close bond, even Max had a crush on Daniel and they figured out they work better as friends, that makes sense too. Lestappen is the real deal, endgame.

Moving on because this ask has turned into an encyclopaedia lengths answer 😅

I won't give up on lestappen, I'm way too obsessed with them, unhealthy amounts of obsession, but who care, I'm more the cuddly kind of obsessed anyway.

I was thinking of making a list of lestappen safe ao3 authors, but right now there are only 3 names there, maybe 5 if I stretch a little. I will start on it, but it might take some time to go through the tag.

I will not interact with anyone on tumblr tho, there are too many claiming to like lestappen because they are popular or Max is the current WDC, not to mention the multi-shippers, and I haven't figure out yet which, if there are any, blogs are lestappen.

Anon, I'm such a mess, why would you wish horror upon the max and lestappen tag with my posts 🤣😂

Still, feel free to talk to me anytime, fellow Max girlie (isn't Max so incredible, adorable, talented, smart, cutest lil duklin, delightful, sweet, bold, enchanting, brilliant, fascinating, resourceful, captivating, nicest person, a joy to watch racing, especially in the wet, he is stunning, a beast on track and a kitten outside it, our little meow-meow, the best tho, simply lovely, we have such impeccable taste 🥂)

Thank you for your kind message anon, it made my day reading it 🤗

#anon #asks

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cicadidae-tm9899 · 1 year ago

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Okay, so somewhat recently I've been reblogging a few things using my clarke and virgil tag, so i'm just gonna go through and expand a little more about why i reblogged them because I tend to get self-conscious putting everything in the tags lmao.

Okay so first we have the most recent one, that being the pet names post. I just think it's funny having this dynamic of big tough stoic guy getting called darlin' and sunshine all the time, and then turning around and being like, "What do you want Virgil." I also like to think that Virgil calls Clarke by his intimidating cowboy nickname, Gravedigger, usually in a mocking way. And then they'll be in the middle of some trouble and someone will call him Gravedigger mockingly and it pisses him off. Like he doesn't go ballistic because he's not that kind of guy, but he gets that like quiet seething kind of anger that permeates the air around him and makes the enemies think twice about what they're trying to do.

Alright next is the series of text conversations where they're all like threatening to kill eachother lmao. This one is mostly about this one single screenshot in the post:

i can just visualize this interaction so clearly where, pretty soon after clarke escapes from cowboy jail (i'm working on it. go away), virgil just won't stfu, and clarke loses his patience and tells him that he's an unlikable nuisance and he wishes he hadn't agreed to let him tag along, and Virgil stops for a second and leans forward in his seat and is just all, "mhmm? go on ;)" and Clarke just rolls his eyes and goes back to whatever he was doing.

Next up we have the characters having cool titles post, and this one is just about Clarke being called Gravedigger and having lore lmao.

Next is the enemies-to-lovers post with the line "throw darts at it all you want, but you still printed out a picture of them to hang on your wall." This one (surprise surprise) is about Clarke's opinion of Virgil. Like when they first meet, Virgil's [insert vague parental figure here]'s gang beats the shit out of Clarke and throws him in their cowboy jail where Virgil visits every day and just taunts him because he's an asshole while Clarke just sits in there and plans his escape for like a week. Then when Clarke finally puts his genius plan into action, Virgil helps by getting his gun back and making sure his horse is easily accessible, and just follows him once he leaves and continues to be an asshole until Clarke falls in love with him.

Next is the bear and the deer post, and i'm gonna be honest with you I can't really remember why i tagged this as them specifically, but i can see the vague idea behind it. I think Virgil was supposed to be the bear? I actually really like the idea that there's this big strong intimidating guy getting followed around by a scrawny rich asshole who decided he was interesting enough to betray his vague parental figure for, and they're dynamic is the complete opposite of what you'd expect.

Okay now i'm gonna skip a few posts to get to the dog post. This post is what solidified most of my ideas about their relationship, and really explains the bear/deer post. I like to think that, a couple months after Clarke escapes, he starts to appreciate Virgil's company and lets things slide more often, but then one day they get into an argument about something and Virgil's being sarcastic and stupid still and says something like "you want to fuck me so bad it makes you look stupid" and then Clarke just does. After that though their dynamic shifts from an enemies-to-partners type thing to bear/deer or guard dog and master. Like before this fight they would bond over some things, and have a few close encounters with death, but they'd get through it in the end and continue on their journey, and they'd start noticing different sides of each other. Like Clarke isn't just an emotionless killing machine out for revenge because deep down he has a soft spot for mothers and kids, and he takes Super good care of his horse, Beast, and he always makes sure to dig graves for any of the unfortunate men he kills in his travels (hence the name). And Virgil isn't just a rich asshole whose made a living out of following Clarke and trying to see how thin he can get his patience, but instead he's a deeply traumatized dude with a knack for sharpshooting and music, and who actually thinks very highly of Clarke despite all his mocking.

Okay that is all i can write for now. I will definitely update this soon because i am always thinking about Clarke and Virgil, but i need to sleep.

#clarke and virgil #9899 ocs #long post #anyways #eventually i will go through and link all the posts i'm talking about #but today is not that day.#goobnight

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lasanya539 · 5 months ago

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Hi @personne-writes, I decided to take you up on continuing this story based on @turtle--thoughts's prompt! Hope you like it! rise, episodic canon typical shenanigans, 1.5k words, tmnt write fight ---

Leo walks into Donnie's lab the next day, Mikey and Raph trailing behind him.

"So," he eagerly rubs his hands together like a kid planning a prank, "how's it looking, Don?"

Donnie's in his chair, hunched over his keyboard, face extremely close to the screen. On the giant monitor, Adobe Photoshop is open, a bright and happy picture of the turtle brothers displayed, but zoomed into Leo's face. He watches the cursor move toward the edge of his frozen smile with precision, before Donnie lets out a triumphant exclamation.

"Behold, fellow gentlemen! I have managed to insert Leon into our old beach 'vacay' picture flawlessly with my incredible genius! And a bit of help from Photoshop." He adds disinterestedly, as he downloads the picture and closes the application. "We are completed with Phase One."

"Aw, look at how cute we were when we went to Tahiti!" Mikey leans on the back of Donnie's chair, his face in a perfect imitation of the 'happy tears in your eyes' emoji. "And that coconut drink! Man, I've never been able to make that here."

"Do you think they'll be able to tell it's an old picture?" Raph scratches his chin with his sai. "I mean, Donnie's forehead used to be a lot smaller at fourteen."

"Scoff! I resent that rude and objectively inaccurate observation!" Donnie says, shooting Raph a look before turning to Leo. "And no, they will not be able to tell a thing. TMZ is notoriously more interested in speculation than fact. The worst thing we can expect is a condemnation of our entire moral code for abandoning New York during its worst mutant crime rampage yet - but no one will be carbon dating the picture."

"Well, alright then," Leo says after a moment, sparing an anxious thought towards their newly-found love and acceptance in human society dropping even just a bit, before shaking himself out of it. "We're good to go! Our first dip into the disturbing waters of social media. Officially, at least."

"Ooh! Once we're done taking down criminals, let's start a public TikTok account." Mikey suggests excitedly.

"Oh, absolutely not." Raph butts in. "No doing stupid TikTok dancing trends until you're at least sixteen."

"Aw, no fair!"

"Plenty fair. I didn't yell at you for having an AO3 account when you were too young for half the stuff on there, did I? This is definitely a hard no."

"Okay, Raph can mother-hen later." Leo interrupts them both, watching as Donnie pulls up Twitter and pastes the picture into the text box. It's actually a really cute selfie of the boys, all of them wearing flower print shirts and coconuts in their hands. Donnie has a pair of sunglasses on and Raph has a lei around his neck. Leo wonders if he can make another portal to Tahiti so they can take this picture for real.

"Remember," Donnie explains, "T-minus 75 seconds after this picture goes live, People's Magazine and Pop Crave are going to make their posts about us, and within the hour Us Weekly will have an article going. So tonight will be the highest chance of either Ghostbear or Meatsweats showing up in the areas we patrol the most."

He positions his cursor over the post button. "Ready?"

"Ready!" The three brothers echo, and the tweet goes live.

'From saving the day, to catching some rays ☀️🏝 #tahitivibes #beachmodeactivated #nomasksnoworries'

"Wow, yeah, we are definitely getting canceled." Mikey notes.

"And not just because we're openly bragging. What's with the hashtags?" Raph asks.

"Ugh, I worked with what I had, okay? They're fine." Donnie responds defensively.

"I mean, I guess, but they're kinda wrong. We're still wearing masks in the picture, aren't we?"

"Mikey!"

"Okay, okay, it's good enough for our purposes, chill." Leo raises a hand placatingly. "For now, we gotta review our game plan. C'mon, let's call in April and the Caseys."

A few hours go by, in which they map out an extensive patrol routine around the highest risk areas, while Donnie's phone goes haywire from the amount of retweets and comments he's getting. Eventually, Raph makes him turn it off completely because of how anxious it's making him.

"They already make too much fun of Raph and his snaggletooth on live TV." He grouses, crossing his arms and pouting as he sits back in his chair. "I don't need to see what they've got to say about our fake vacation."

"Hey, don't listen to them, snaggletooths are awesome." Casey says as she grabs a slice of pepperoni off Mikey's plate. "I'm gonna get vampire veneers once I get the money for it, that's basically two snaggle-teeth."

CJ just sighs helplessly, as if already exhausted by the antics of his so-called mother. Leo just laughs and jostles him in a friendly gesture.

Once 1 AM rolls around, they set into motion. They split up, Team Beta being all turtles and Team Alpha being all humans, on account of one April O'Neil getting mad that 'there is no way on Pizza Supreme that the humans be the secondary team, I am NOT gonna be a beta, what do you take me for?'. Alpha takes all of Midtown, while Beta takes the Downtown area.

"Bet you guys ten bucks Meatsweats is gonna show up in the Little Italy district." Leo says as they discreetly hop rooftops, all their ninja stealth on display.

"I won't take that bet." Raph grunts. "Is he gonna try poisoning the business owners again?"

"Dibs on the poison puffs!" Mikey whisper-shouts, once he finally lands on their designated surveillance spot. "I hope he puts some more salt in them this time, that will really bring out the flavor, I think."

Donnie rolls his eyes as Raph tries to stifle in his lecture. Leo ignores them all, eyes trained on the street. The various restaurants of Little Italy look cleaned and locked, not very many people in sight.

Suddenly, a lumbering figure emerges from the alley beside the butcher shop. The grotesque figure of Meatsweats strolls confidently toward the shop's corner entrance, his massive meat tenderizer glinting under the streetlights.

"Alright, got 'im." Leo speaks into the comm on his wrists. "Team Alpha, we've got our numero uno target - be on standby for backup." He nods at the affirmative he gets, before smirking at his brothers. "Ready to bring home the bacon?"

The turtles leap from position, rolling right up to Meatsweats' van. Mikey's nunchucks extend to long mystic chains, wrapping around his fat wrist just before he tries to grab the door handle. The mutant jumps back in surprise, aghast.

"Ugh, you pesky little things again!" He scowls. "I thought you were out enjoying a relaxing vacation on a beach somewhere! I certainly would love one. The New York sun does nothing for my complexion."

"Well, let me assure you it won't do you any favors in a prison cell either!" Raph yells, twisting his sais and grinning at him. "You're going down today, Meatsweats!"

The fight breaks out in an instant. Meatsweats swings his hammer, narrowly missing Donnie, who ducks and retaliates with a bo staff strike to the knee. Raph charges, tackling Meatsweats into a stack of empty crates near the alley wall.

Meatsweats throws him off with surprising strength, but Mikey doesn't waste an instant, somersaulting behind him and using his elongated chains to completely engulf him. He roars in anger, trying to launch him away with his own magic, but Leo swoops in, kicking him squarely in the face before shoving him onto the ground.

"And, boom, baby!" Mikey cheers, strong arms still holding the mutant three times his size immobile. "We did it!"

"Great job, guys." Leo smiles, shooting his baby brother an extra wink. "We've saved the future of gourmet pizza toppings."

Donnie comes up next to him, fingers expertly moving across his gauntlet projection. "All of the CCTV footage of our quick fight has been deleted, and not a single soul in New York suspects a thing. So, wahoo, team Mad Dogs!" He gives a semi-enthusiastic cheer as Leo rolls his eyes.

They tie him up with some real, reinforced rope, Raph going the extra mile and making a pretty little bow out of it while Leo shoves a giant brick in his mouth as a gag, before they place him right at the backdoor exit of the nearest precinct, graciously knocking twice on the door and slipping away.

"Well, team, I think that's some wonderful villain-busting for today, amiright?" Leo brags, stretching as they walk home. "Maybe we really should take a trip to Tahiti one day."

"Yeah, Raph needs a break from saving the world." Raph chuckles. "I need a beach day for sure."

"It's the reptilian instincts in us." Donnie notes. "We long for the wonderful sunshine and extensive water splashies."

"Do you think we could convince TMZ we had two vacations in one year?" Mikey asks.

"Hmm, I think we'll have to pick another destination for another time." Leo says, hooking an arm around his shoulders as he shares a conspiratorial grin with him. "Wildlife safari, maybe?"

This was a lot of fun!

Payback time!

@turtle--thoughts wrote a prompt of mine for the @tmnt-write-fight last month. Time to strike back!

Prompt: "Both heroes and villains try to keep tabs on each other through the news." This actually reads like an official episode summary! I love this idea a lot, but well, my ficlet was getting long and I was running out of time, so I figured I'd just send what I had, even unfinished. Anyone can feel free to take it where I stopped and continue though!

-----

All over the news

“Wait wait waitwaitwait-!”

Mikey’s plea is interrupted by a loud thud, and that’s all his brothers hear before they see him sliding face first towards them, forehead throbbing from what must’ve been a pretty powerful punch.

“Aw, Ghostbear!” Raph cries out indignantly. “Not my little brother’s face!”

“Yeah! Mikey’s, like, the second handsomest of the family,” Leo says.

Donnie’s bo staff swirls in the air. “And as the fairest of them all, I shan’t leave this crime unpunished!”

Leo snorts. “Not who I had in -”

“Kowabunga!” Raph roars as he charges forward.

He ends up face first into a wall.

“Ha, ha! Gracioso!” Ghostbear laughs somewhere out of their sight. “Sorry, tortugas, but I have plans for today and you are not part of them. See you never!”

The brothers chase after his voice, dart looks in every direction, but try as they might, they can't find their opponent anywhere. Leo groans in frustration. “Okay, what the hell? Is it just me or does this keep happening to us lately?”

Raph frowns hard enough to make a second worry line appear between his eyes. “This is weird. It's weird, right? We never pull off our surprise attacks anymore.”

“Alas!” Donnie sighs, “who could've guessed? Mediatic ambition comes at the cost of discre-”

“Spare us the theatrics and just spill it, Donald” Mikey interrupts.

“Eyeroll. Told you guys going famous wouldn't do well with our whole ninja deal.”

“Pfff, famous’ a big word,” Leo pouts.

Mikey's face lights up with a self-satisfied smirk. “Weeell, we did get our butts invited to a few TV shows since the Kraang-pocalypse.”

“We're all over the news, you dumb-dumbs,” Donnie deadpans. “Anyone who owns a television or a phone can guess our whereabouts pretty easily.”

“Oooooh,” his three brothers coo together. Donnie lets out a tired sigh.

“Alright,” Raph says, “I guess we could just reverse this? How do we make a statement that we don't want to be famous anymore?”

“Huh, I don't think it works like that,” Mikey thinks aloud. “Remember the whole Mutant Menace disaster?”

“Ouch, yeah, okay.”

“Well,” Leo starts, “if we're not gonna mansplain or malewife our way out of this -”

“Blatant misuse of internet culture,” Donnie points out.

“- why don't we manipulate?” Leo goes on. “We could give incorrect information. Drown ‘em with fake news! Make them believe we're out of town and BANG, we strike where they don't expect us.”

The silence that follows is so dense Leo itches to grab his swords and cut through it.

“Okay, rough,’ he deadpans. “I don’t think it’s that bad of an idea, guys.”

“No, that’s… actually not bad at all,” Raph says.

“Would require some hacking, but it could work,” Donnie nods.

“Sounds plenty fun, too!” Mikey beams.

Leo's surprised expression quickly morphs into a grin. “Alright, let’s do this.”

-----

Thanks again for your attack @turtle--thoughts, I enjoyed it so much. Hope you'll like this bit of writing as well!

#rottmnt #rottmnt fic #tmnt write fight #i hope i did your initial beginning justice #jsyk its actually 5 am here im supposed to be asleep #spoiler i did not sleep #but hey i wrote 1519 words!!!#so i was still productive #sanya's drabbles

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thatscarletflycatcher · 2 years ago

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I recently saw a post about different styles of posting on social media about one's engagement, coming right after I finished a conversation with some friends about weddings, and it struck me once again, the slow loss of our privacy coupled with a progressive increase on our personal isolation, and how that is, hm, bad.

I'm gonna try to explain. Back when my parents married (Uruguay, early 1980s) a wedding was an important event because marriage was a socially relevant thing. Not telling someone you were getting married was seen as extremely rude; it was set custom to make two sets of wedding invitations: one, including the information about the reception, for the people you were inviting to the party, and another with just the date, time and place of the ceremony, ending in "the bride and bridegroom will greet you at [insert the entrance to the location where the wedding was to be performed]" that you sent to acquaintances and pinned to a corkboard at your workplace/social club/dance studio/whatever. Basically everyone was notified and invited to attend the ceremony and bring a gift if they were so inclined, or not, at will.

A decade ago people would catch wind of your engagement because you changed your relationship status on facebook. The more daring would post a picture with some text. Fine. Nowadays you catch wind that someone is engaged or married by being bombarded on instagram by pictures of the proposal, wedding, reception and honeymoon, for which you were never even given a short "hey, I'm getting married!!!" text.

Expectations for wedding receptions are sky high. You need to show off the wealth that you most likely don't have, and everything that gets the wedding label automatically becomes 10x more expensive. So people, reasonably, invite less and less guests to their weddings. Some schew the whole social event altogether and elope or get secretly and quietly married.* And yet most of the time you are still getting the unsolicited picture album. And maybe some people think that the picture assault is notification enough. But that's also something I positively dislike. Telling someone you are getting married, a proper communication, is not the same thing as just posting pictures. One is personal, the other is impersonal.

In other words, what used to be more private and personal (the pictures and video of the event, what you shared with close relatives and friends) is now broadcasted, and what used to be the thing you broadcasted (a communication to everyone of your new relationship status and establishing of a new family) is now rather private. There's a dissonance by which less and less people get to participate in a wedding, but more and more people are made to watch it from outside as complete strangers. It's mildly voyeuristic, and from and for a lot of people, a sort of "rubbing in their faces", a fundamentally adversarial attitude.

*mind you, my parents had a wedding reception consisting on "sandwiches, cake and soda" at grandma's house, where people took turns to sit and where dishes and cutlery came from several different borrowings to make up the number, and if there was whiskey that was because one of the guests brought a bottle. But that's hardly an instagrammable reception these days, says I like a cranky 80 year old.

#weddings #wedding receptions #social media #the baroness stares into the void

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ramp-it-up · 3 years ago

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Open The Bar

Pairing: Barkeep!Andy Barber x Reader x Barkeep! Frank (Endings, Beginnings)

Summary: You, Andy, and Frank become open about your relationship.

Part 10 of The Bar AU. Read the previous part, Raise The Bar.

Word count: 3K

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. SMUT! Read at your own risk. ANGST, sexting, phone sex, Daddy kink, degradation kink, masturbation, double fingering, slapping, leather, chains, harnesses, naughty Halloween costumes, on the bar, mention of double penetration, threesome.

A/N: I. Just. Can’t. Stop. Thank you Alice @maladaptivexxdaydreaming for being my beta! 🥰 The artwork is just a representation of the idea in the story.

Please follow @rampitupandread and turn on notifications to learn when I post! 😘

I Do NOT consent to my work being reposted, translated or presented on any other blog or site other than by myself.

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The week and a half after your dates with Andy and with Frank were full of anticipation. Your good morning texts turned into hints at your sexual fate.

From Andy:

You’re going to pay for working us up, Sweetheart.

Am I? Is that a promise or a threat?

Which one gets you wetter?

From Frank:

Good god woman. I’m dead. I’m dying. Jacking off with your panties Baby Doll…

Gonna cum all over them, then make you put them on and push all of that into my cunt.

I mean your cunt.

I mean our cunt.

You could only stare at the texts like a slut.

Are you slippery Baby Doll?

Are you touching yourself Sweetheart?

Just let us come over. We’ll overlook the fact that you tried to get a rise out of us.

That is if you want us to. I think you want certain things to rise.

Frank’s levity always balanced out Andy’s ominous nature.

You squirmed, wet as fuck and needy beyond words. You finally responded, thinking you had a suitable response.

If I let you put your hands on me again. This weekend was a slip up.

They were unfazed.

True. But lips and tongue is not a hand.

I’ll tie Andy’s hands to the bed and make you sit on his face as I fuck him senseless.

You’ll be begging for us to touch you.

You moaned out loud, thankful that they couldn’t hear you.

I’ll not beg.

You want to lay a wager? You in, Andy?

Andy’s hand had been occupied, ever since Frank inserted his lewd suggestion into the chat.

Oh Definitely. Because I know she wants it. She’s highly suggestible.

Isn’t that right, Sweetheart? After I suggested putting the tip in, you let Frank inside you.

Didn’t you? Oh, you’ll pay.

You couldn’t answer, just panted at the realization that you were being sexted by two men at the same time.

She barely let me in Andy... It was torture, had me cumming in seconds.

I would have loved to have tasted you, Baby Doll. Got me hard just remembering it, look.

Frank sent a dick pic to the group chat, large pink head glistening with precum and looking right at the camera on his phone to the delight of both you and Andy.

In response, Andy sent one of him stroking off, large hand around his even larger cock, shaft, tip, and balls glistening with lube. You sent back a voice memo.

“You both look delicious. Would love to have both of you in my…. anything right now.”

You sent them a picture of your pussy, two fingers in as deep as you could go. Your voice made Andy almost blow his load. Frank was feeling the same way.

Andy called you and Frank on threeway.

“Hello?”

The need and timidity in your voice made both men pulse in their hands, close to their highs.

“Is that for us? And did you say ‘Anything’, Sweetheart? Did you mean your mouth? Pull your fingers out of your pussy, stick them in your mouth and suck your juices off. Because that is what will be required of you with our dicks.”

The deep timbre of Andy’s voice made you huff harder as you did as you were told, imagining sucking them off at the same time. The slurping sounds of you obeying made Frank even harder.

“Fuck Baby Doll. Such a nastly little slut for us. Did you mean that you want both of us in your tight little pussy?”

Frank’s voice made you whine and whisper his name.

“Fraankkkk…”

Andy barrelled ahead.

“You know what I dream about Frank? It’s a bit extreme…”

He didn’t say it, but your imagination went reeling. They could tell by your silence save for the little huffs that you were trying to keep quiet.

“That would be hot, but fuck, I have waking dreams of you squirting in my mouth…”

Frank’s gravelly, lust filled voice was about to do you in.

“I love the way you two fucked me. I want that, I want to be used.”

“Shit! Sweetheart….”

Andy’s voice conveyed his need.

You were huffing and moaning, your fingers in your pussy and circling your clit; you were at the height of desperation.

“What are you doing, Baby Doll? Are you touching yourself again?”

You were silent, with tears in your eyes as you imagined them both inside you.

“Answer him!”

Andy’s order caused you to whimper as your wetness multiplied.

“Y-yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.” Frank’s praise made you keen. “Just don’t squirt again until I can get my mouth on you.”

“Oh shit!”

Andy wouldn’t let you recover from Frank’s verbal assault.

“I think the first time we have her again, we fuck both holes at the same time, get her loose, and then start training us to take us both in one…”

“Ohhhh, Andyyyyyyy!”

It took just a couple of minutes before you were cumming. You moaned loud and long as you came at the dirty, dirty thoughts they were putting in your head. You heard their curses as they grunted and groaned through their own orgasms.

“Just wait until Andy and I get you alone in a room.”

You could hear them both moving around, cleaning themselves up. You just lay on the phone, wanting their arms around you.

“You’ve broken us, Sweetheart. You know that right? We are completely and utterly ruined for anyone else but you. What do you want? What do you need for us to be together again?”

Andy was desperate to be official. Things were getting real.

“I want you both. Soon.”

“When can we see you again? Together?”

You shivered with anticipation and the after-effects of your orgasm. But you couldn’t be caught slipping.

“I’m busy this week. But I’ll be at the Halloween party next Friday.”

The annual party at The Bar was legendary. They were both quiet. They knew you were spooked.

“I have an idea for a…A costume for all of us.”

“Oh? Are you going to claim us in public?”

Frank was only halfway joking. It was one of the elephants in the room. But you were ready.

You smiled to yourself.

“Funny you should say that…”

You explained your idea, ignoring Andy’s groans and talking over Frank’s laughter. Finally, they agreed. In truth, they would have agreed to anything, they were so gone for you.

You got off the phone reluctantly, even though you would be late for work.

When they wished you a good day, you found yourself wishing that you were going to come home to them at the end of it.

Andy and Frank assailed you all week with a combined attack of erotic selfies, soul-rendering texts and promises that your pussy would be assaulted on sight. So you stayed away, not trusting your willpower.

On Halloween at The Bar, everyone got their costumes wrong. Andy and Frank didn’t correct anyone all night, just smiled and took their drink orders. They looked out of place, yet perfect next to each other behind the bar, and in fact your costume idea earned them extra tips.

They were on edge all night, waiting for you to make an appearance.

Finally, the bell on the door didn’t disappoint. You and your friends entered The Bar, and you were all their dreams were made of.

They saw your horns first, red and glittery, shining in your mass of hair, which was down your back and around your shoulders, straight and glossy for the night.

Your lips were red, matching the short leather dress you were wearing. Their eyes, and everyone else’s, were drawn to your lace up bustier top, your soft breasts barely contained within. Your legs were encased in black sandals, the long ribbons lacing up to your knees.

Both of their mouths dropped open as you approached, and everyone watched as you went behind the bar. You looked over your shoulder as they followed you into the back room.

“Well hellooo, Baby Doll.”

Frank was taking you all in and you could feel Andy’s vibe beside him.

“Hello.”

You smiled innocently and brought what you had out of your purse.

Andy started to sweat.

“You were serious.”

“As a heart attack.”

You looked at both men who were staring hungrily at you. They looked hot in black leather pants and black harnesses and nothing else. Your mouth watered at the sight before you, but you went on with your plan.

“If you could be good boys,” You got as close as you could to Frank and Andy without touching them, giving a view down your dress. “And stay in place,” you looked down at their black leather clad crotches. “We can have fun later.”

They didn’t answer you, just stared at you and made you squirm as they smiled.

“Let’s go.”

“I’m down.”

They were very agreeable. And not very talkative. You wondered what they were up to.

You took the leads in your hands and hooked them to the harnesses.

You took a deep breath and asked, “Are you ready?”

Andy and Frank smiled at you.

“Lead the way.”

“After you.”

You smiled and turned around, leading them back into the bar. It was you who wasn’t ready.

Everyone stopped what they were doing, talking, drinking, dancing, serving, and turned to look at you three. Your heart stopped when the noise did, wondering what made you come up with this idea. Then you looked back at your boys. You went forward and led them to the rail behind the bar, fastening the chain to it. They weren’t fixed in one spot and could move the length of the bar, but not from behind it.

Everyone watched as the boys obeyed you, and as you reached up, grabbed their face and gave each of them a deep kiss. They didn’t resist, and eagerly took what you had to offer, but they didn’t make any moves toward you either. You were a little disappointed, but you’d laid out the ground rules pretty clearly.

Pete cleared his throat.

“So what is this costume then?”

You looked him straight in the eyes.

“A succubus and her sex slaves.”

A slow clap began behind you and you turned to see Scott putting his hands together and encouraging others to join in. Soon, the whole joint was applauding and cheering.

You smiled and waved at Andy and Frank who had started to bartend again, cheeks slightly red but a twinkle in their eyes. You joined your friends and their chorus of “I knew it”s, and “I told you so’s” greeting you.

The night both dragged and flew by; you had fun with your friends, but were anticipating the night with Andy and Frank. You hardly looked at them for fear of how they and you would react to eye contact.

Closing time soon came and you waited patiently for Andy to count the till and Frank to help clean up. Scott and Pete got the deposit ready and bid you all goodnight.

“Have… fun!”

Pete’s eyebrow was raised as he and Scott chuckled their way out of the door.

You stood in between Frank and Andy’s warm bodies, feeling faint from want. You couldn’t wait anymore.

“So.. what do you want…”

Andy raised his finger to his lips, drawing your attention there and silencing you.

“Listen before you speak. We want you to be certain of what you ask.”

The care they had for you was the ultimate aphrodisiac. The thought of that sent your skin into goose bumps and made your nipples hard.

Frank advanced toward you, licking his lips as his eyes takes along your body.

“We want to take care of you right here, Baby Doll. But you’ve got to ask.”

Andy eyed you from two feet away. You remembered your big talk and jokes of a wager but you no longer cared about your pride.

“I want you both. Now. Please, I need you to touch me.”

You looked up at them under your lashes.

“Do you want me to get on my knees to beg?”

Frank groaned. “Fuck yes, Baby Doll. But not here.”

He moved toward you first, reaching out to start unlacing your bodice. When the string was loose, he lifted you up and sat you on the bar.

Andy hung back and watched you and Frank, not for certain that this was real. He couldn’t believe it.

“Damn, you’re so beautiful.”

You and Frank looked over at him, and Andy flushed, not realizing that he said it aloud.

You smiled and Frank responded.

“She sure is.”

He reached out for you slowly as you nodded at him, giving him permission to expose you.

Frank peeled the leather away from your skin and your breasts spilled out, warm and soft against the red leather.

Andy moved closer and caressed your nipple, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

“You like that, Sweetheart?”

You could only nod.

“We only want to make you feel good.” His lips descended toward the top of your breasts, kissing tenderly. “But remember, you did say that you wanted to be used.”

You shivered.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“Good girl.”

Andy’s praise and his smile was everything.

Frank’s fingers were tracing the lips of your pussy through your leather thong.

“Andy and I have been dreaming of paying you the attention you deserve, from both of us.”

Frank’s eyes held yours as he lowered his head to your breast as he fingered you, those lips encasing your hard bud. You were watching him, so you felt Andy before you saw him, his red lips and tongue beginning to pull at your other nipple.

“Ohhhhh, shittttt!”

You put your hands in their hair as they sucked at your breasts eagerly. You arched your back, causing you to shift on the bar as Andy’s finger slid inside you next to Frank’s. The full feeling was heaven along with the nipple stimulation.

Andy looked up and released your nipple with a pop. You noticed that his face had changed as he reached up and smacked your cheek, the smart of it causing you to clamp down and gush over their fingers.

“Stay still. You agreed we could have our fun. You have to take it.”

Andy was totally Daddy now and that voice was in control of you.

“O- okay.”

“What was that?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“That’s better.”

Andy went back to sucking your breasts, Frank holding, molding, and squeezing your breasts for both of their mouths. Andy moved to put his other hand on your ass to keep you still while their fingers pushed inside you on either side of your panties, having you make a mess on the bar.

Frank looked up as you were writing on the limited confines of what they gave you, lips wet with saliva.

“You gonna cum with us both inside you? Right now it’s just our fingers. Tell us what else you want.”

Andy looked up and started twisting your nipples as you writhed under their gaze.

“Tell us how cum hungry you are.”

You could barely speak, but you did as you were told, the sound of the light chain moving as they did what they wanted adding to the mood.

“I want you to fuck me Andy. And then I want Frank to fuck me. I want you to take turns using me as your cumslut. Then I want you both inside my holes, filling me up.”

Frank’s eyes almost closed as he felt your pussy clench around thier fingers.

“You do, don’t you? You want that.”

“Yessss!”

“It’s amazing how fucking perfect you are…”

Frank buried his face in your neck, starting to mark you up good.

“You belong to us? So that we can use you however we see fit?”

Andy was in heaven watching you and Frank. He maneuvered his pinkie to ghost over your other hole.

“Oh god, yes!”

You were staring to pulse around their fingers and they knew you were close.

“So, if we told you not to cum right now, you’d hold it?”

Frank’s mouth went to your nipple again and scraped it with his teeth.

“I— I can’t!”

“You better fucking hold it!”

Andy grabbed your face and squeezed as he watched Frank suck your nipple.

“That mouth is talented, isn’t it? Bet you wanna see it wrapped around my cock.”

You closed your eyes, as if that could shut out the sound of Andy’s words and their effect on your brain.

Frank bit your nipple lightly and groaned.

“Feel how tight she is. Can hardly move our fingers.” Frank looked you in the eye.

“Did you forget how to take our cocks? Might as well cum…”

Before he could finish, you released and shook uncontrollably, allowing the waves of pleasure to wash over you. Frank and Andy held you, making sure you were safe.

“…On our fingers Baby Doll.”

“So fucking eager.” Andy glared at you. “Will you be as eager when we punish you with our cocks?”

Frank chuckled and licked his hand as Andy admonished you.

“I deserve to be punished, Daddy. I’ve been bad.”

Andy’s jaw clenched at your response.

“Oh, it’s guaranteed Sweetheart.”

He grabbed your face and pulled you into a ferocious kiss that had you clenching anew. He slotted himself between your legs as Frank stood beside you and brought Andy’s hand up to his mouth to suck you off of his fingers. He used his other hand to pull your hair making you expose your neck to Andy, who promptly licked you from collarbone to chin. You whimpered.

“Give me the key, Baby Doll.”

You obeyed, sliding the key to the chains out of a small pocket on your dress. Frank unlocked himself and Andy, carefully winding the chain around his hand.

“This will come in handy for both of you cocksluts. Let’s go, Andrew.”

Andy lifted you off the bar and over his shoulder, carrying you like a sack of potatoes up the stairs to his apartment.

Let me know if you liked it by liking, commenting and reblogging! -DJ

#chris evans #chris evans smut #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader #chris evans x female reader #chris evans x reader #ask dj #barkeep! andy barber x black reader #the bar au #barkeep! andy barber x reader #barkeep! andy barber #barkeep! andy barber x reader x frank #Andy Barber #andy barber smut #frank endings beginnings smut #frank endings beginnings #Sebastian Stan #Sebastian Stan smut #Sebastian Stan imagine

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maccreadysbaby · 2 months ago

Text

House of Wolves

batfamily + oc insert

tw: intoxication

wanna read more? here’s the table of contents!

want to read the first fic in the hundred days series so you understand what’s going on here? here it is!

oh the woes of being fifteen

part eight

❝ NOCTURNAL ❞

FRIDAY — APRIL 21 — 10:48PM

THE WORST PART OF SLEEPING ALL DAY, WAS NOT BEING ABLE TO SLEEP ALL NIGHT.

It was almost eleven. Dinner had ended almost three hours ago, and all the Wayne’s that didn’t live in the Manor anymore scattered back to their homes and apartments and schools. Bentley, Bellamy, Valor, Asten, Damian, Bruce, and Rockie had all watched a movie afterwards — some Netflix original that ended up being exponentially bad and, at the same time, so intriguing that they couldn’t stop watching it.

After that, everyone had split off to go to bed, and Bentley was just… there.

He laid silently in his dark room for maybe twenty minutes. Scrolled uselessly on his phone, texted Vera. She didn’t respond, but she had said earlier that they were going to bed really early because of their plans for tomorrow. So, Bentley just… laid there.

And eventually, he got bored, got up, and left his bedroom.

The Manor hall was dark and quiet, lined with carpet and family pictures that had grown in size to compensate for the new members. He could hear the distant, soft sounds of video games coming from one of the doors farther along, and he thought about going to find it, but he turned toward the stairs instead.

He walked carefully, skipping the creaky sixth and twelfth stairs as he made his way down to the entryway. The chandelier there still managed to shine even in the dark.

Quietly, he made his way through the entryway and into the kitchen. A few of the dim lights were still on, but no one was in there, and no one was around.

Now that everyone had left, the Manor was quiet, and felt kind of… he wasn’t sure. Sad? Maybe it was just because no one was awake, and the whole thing was quiet, and he was up alone.

That was something he was starting to notice about himself. Nowadays he… got kinda sad when he was alone.

With a soft sigh, he dug through the freezer until he found a little container of Ben and Jerry’s that had the name ASTEN scrawled on top in big letters, grabbed a spoon from the drawer, sat at the island and ate it.

He absentmindedly navigated to Vera’s band’s instagram, scrolling through the most recent posts. They had started rapid-fire posting their whole trip to document it, and every time he opened his phone there seemed to be a new story or post. He couldn’t keep up to save his life.

The most recent one was a picture of Vera in a little white dress standing in front of a huge tour bus, her arms outstretched and a million-dollar smile on her face. Bentley double tapped to like it and scrolled down into the comments — where there was a comment from Aleah Powers herself, congratulating them and saying how excited she was to have them on her tour.

That’s about when Bentley realized that post had over one-point-five million likes, and that their follower count had gone up to a million and the tour hadn’t even started.

Bentley smiled faintly at the screen. He could already tell she was going to get famous — her life’s dream was going to come true thanks to this once in a lifetime opportunity. She was going to be a celebrity, like a red-carpet, Grammy winning, millionaire celebrity. And then what would he be, standing next to her?

Bentley heard footsteps.

He spun around on the island stool and leaned to the side to glance into the entryway, and someone flashed by on the stairs, silent as a mouse.

Bentley laid down his phone and spoon and pushed himself off of the stool, stepping into the kitchen doorway.

Bellamy was unlocking the front door. Last time Bentley had seen him, he was wearing pajamas, but now he was in jeans and a white button-up shirt, looking suspiciously ready to leave.

With a lifted brow, Bentley leaned against the doorframe and cleared his throat. “A little late to be leaving, don’t you think?”

With a quiet, started sound, Bellamy whipped around to face him with wide brown eyes.

“Bentley! What… are you doing up?” He asked, as though Bentley was the one doing suspicious things.

“I slept all day,” He replied simply, scanning Bellamy’s outfit with a faint smirk. “What’re you doing?”

Bellamy, with surprise still lingering on his face, pulled his hand away from the front door and blinked, righting his expression. “Going… outside.”

Bentley nodded toward him. “Fully dressed?”

“You…” Bellamy trailed off. “Never know who you’ll see outside?”

“Our nearest neighbor is, like, a mile away,”

Bellamy let out an exasperated sigh and groaned: “Bentley.”

“Where are you going?” Bentley asked, pushing off of the doorframe and taking a few steps forward, crossing his arms lightly. “Does Bruce know you’re leaving?”

Bellamy sighed heavily, throwing his head back dramatically. “Bentley.”

“I’m just asking,” He shrugged.

Bellamy tossed his arms out to the side. “I’m going to Maddox’s house.”

“Does Bruce know?”

“Why can’t you mind your own business?” Bellamy grumbled. “I’ll be back before anyone wakes up and it’ll be fine. Please, they’re already waiting to pick me up.”

Bentley didn’t say anything, but just sort of looked at him for a moment. Bellamy was giving him these big brown puppy eyes and, for a flash, Bentley saw the same eleven year old that used to cling to him at school.

Bentley breathed in, deep, and then out. “When will you be back?”

Bellamy shrugged. “Like, three or four. Whenever the designated driver brings me back.”

“I’ll be awake,” Bentley replied shortly. “Go. Before I change my mind.”

Bellamy moved quickly for the door, turning the handle quietly.

“Hey, wait,” Bentley continued, and Bellamy turned around looking really close to stabbing something. “Share your location with me.”

Bellamy slapped himself in the forehead. “What? You’re not my mom!”

“If I’m going to be the only one who knows you’re gone, I at least want to know where you are in case your friends run off the road with you in the car,” Bentley shot back. “Share it.”

With an unintelligible groan, Bellamy whipped his phone out and shared the location with him, and it was confirmed when Bentley’s phone pinged in the kitchen.

“Good. If you turn it off, I’ll wake up Bruce and tell him you left,”

“Are you blackmailing me?” Bellamy asked, exasperated. Bentley shrugged, looking amused.

“Yep.”

With a deep, long sigh, Bellamy pulled the door open and stepped out onto the stoop, closing it behind him.

And Bentley just stood there.

A few seconds later, the door opened again, and Bellamy’s head popped back in, looking sheepish. “We’re… not actually going to Maddox’s house.”

“Wow,” Bentley feigned surprise. “I’m shocked.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Don’t be a dick. We’re going to this… restaurant his dad owns, downtown Gotham.”

“Oh, nice,” Bentley nodded. “Would that happen to be a liquor restaurant?”

“Bentley!”

“I told you to go before I change my mind,” He sighed heavily, running a hand over his hair. “But… thanks for telling the truth, I guess. I’ll be waiting here at four.”

With no other words, Bellamy closed the door and disappeared into the night.

Bentley exhaled heavily, running a hand through his hair. Did he want Bellamy to have fun and be a normal teenager? Yes. That’s what Bentley had wanted the whole time he was at Redwood and now he’d finally gotten it — he traveled and went on trips and did stuff with his friends all the time, why shouldn’t Bellamy?

Did he necessarily want Bellamy riding with sketchy teenagers to a downtown Gotham bar? Absolutely not. But if he stopped him, he’d just end up being the bad guy, and if he told Bruce, he’d just end up being more of a bad guy.

And one thing he could not seem to survive, ever, was someone he loved being mad at him. Seven years and he still couldn’t stand it.

He rubbed a hand across his forehead and turned, eyeballing the pair of chairs that were sitting neatly in the nook of the winding staircase.

With a sigh, he grabbed his phone and Asten’s ice cream and plunked himself down in one. And he waited.

—

It was four-fifteen when Bellamy got back.

Bentley had been nodding off in the chair when the front door opened and Bellamy was on the other side, looking disastrously different. His hair was a complete wreck, way messier than it had been when he’d left, his eyes were dazed and his face was flushed from alcohol, and — the detail Bentley decided to completely ignore — there were several different shades of pink and red on the collar of his shirt, and smeared across the sleeve where he’d been vigorously wiping it off of his own face.

Bentley stood up, an exasperated look on his face. “What the hell, Bellamy.”

Bellamy looked at him, and it seemed to take a few seconds for his wheels to turn. And then he smiled. “Oh, hey! I knew you’d still be here!”

“Shh. You’re yelling,” Bentley hushed him, blowing out a puff of air and moving toward the door, pulling it open so he could step inside without falling on his face. Maybe.

“Aw, thanks B,” He slurred with a smile, dazed and completely out of it. He stepped through the door, banging the toe of his shoe against the threshold and stumbling over it. Bentley jumped to catch him, but he seemed to regain his balance at the last second, catching himself on the doorframe. And then he started laughing.

“Shh,” Bentley hushed him again, grabbing him by the arm and tugging him into the house, closing the door quietly. “Let’s go up to your room. C’mon. Do you feel sick?”

“I feel great!” He chimed. Bentley turned, pulling him toward the stairs at a pace slow enough that he could get his feet under him. On the very first step, he stepped too low, and Bentley was the only thing that kept him from face-planting on the stairs.

It took five whole minutes to get him up the stairs. He almost fell, like, six times, and there was no way for them to skip the squeaky ones. Hopefully no one was listening.

Once they got in the hallway, Bellamy tried to go in Rockie and Damian’s rooms before, finally, they went into his.

With a long sigh, Bentley closed the door.

Bellamy moved forward until he flopped on his bed. “What time is it?”

Bentley sighed, walking over to his dresser and opening the top drawer, pulling out a Batman t-shirt. “Almost four-thirty. Change into this.”

Bentley turned and tossed it at him. His reflexes were pretty much nonexistent, so it hit him right in the face.

“I’ll be right back,”

“Okaaaaay,”

With a shake of his head, Bentley left the room and closed the door, heading back to his bedroom. He dug some advil out of his nightstand, and quickly returned to Bellamy.

He was still sitting on the bed, playing with his phone.

Bentley walked over to him and swiped the device out of his hand. “No drunk texting,” He ordered, placing the pills in his hand instead. “Take those.”

“What?” Bellamy whined, looking at the capsules like they’d personally offended him. “Why? Give me my phone!”

“I’m not letting you make even more of an idiot out of yourself,” Bentley replied. “And the medicine is because you’re going to feel like shit pretty soon.”

“Bentley,”

“Bellamy, just do it,” He ordered harshly, tossing a hand to the side. “I screwed up this time, but next time you pull this shit, I’m not letting you go anywhere.”

“You’re so mean to me!” Bellamy whined, pulling himself out of his bed, tossing the pills on his nightstand, and grabbing for his phone. Bentley held it backwards, away from him.

“Stop,”

“You stop!”

Bentley sighed exasperatedly. “Bellamy.”

“Bentley!”

Bentley spun around to keep the phone away from him. “If you don’t shut up, Bruce is going to hear you.”

“Maybe you should shut up!”

“I’m not being loud,”

In a split second, Bellamy’s face went from alcohol flushed to white, and he stopped mid phone battle with a look of disgust on his face. “Shit.”

“Go,” Bentley pointed at the bathroom, and Bellamy went, hardly making it through the door before he started dry heaving in the sink.

Bentley exhaled heavily, running a hand across his face.

Well. At least he’d slept all day.

—

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