#i genuinely enjoy drawing tim too much like his hair makes me happy

[arunneronthird]

this is genuinely how i think they should interact

actually this is how i think tim should interact with everyone he deserves it

[miss-choco-chips]

North star

Core disaster week Day 1: Bart’s Birthday// First kiss

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

Cassie smiled, sitting down in the picnic blanket. There was so much fucking food- it was awesome.

But not as awesome as being together, all of them. It’d been a while since they managed to meet like this. Kon, particularly, had been hard to pin down and convince to come; but exceptions had to be made on certain days, and Bart’s birthday was the height of special occasions.

Tim, too. She risked a glance at him, stony and silent, and smiled sadly. It truly had been too long.

Sitting each on one end of the blanket, like a flesh and blood compass rose, she smiled again at the unintended philosophy of it all. Bart to the east, bringing the sun into their lives, his energy and warmth a hope for the new day; Kon to the south, lost in memories of the past but a steady, firm ground beneath them; She herself to the west, holding the weight of it all on her shoulders like the sky held the heaviness of sunset; And Tim, sweet, depedable Tim, was undoubtedly their north.

“Cassie? Wonder-honey-baby-dearest girl?”

Snapping out of her reverie, Cassie waved Bart’s concerned face off.

“Don’t worry, just lost in thought. C’mon dude, it’s your day, we can’t start eating until you do!”

A little unsure, Bart sits back on his spot, glancing to his right at Tim. He hesitated a bit, something extremely unusual for a speedster presented with a widely varied menu (Kon and her had flown all over the world picking and choosing his favorites from every possible country- there was a lot).

“He doesn’t mind”, interrupts Kon softly, before anything else can be said.

Taking his word as the gospel it is, Bart’s face broke into the biggest smile and cleaned up his first plate of ‘a little bit of everything’ in less than a blink, already reaching out for more. Without even pausing his chewing, he started babbling out at Tim, who for once didn’t reprimand him on his table manners, nor tried to use a napkin to clean his chocolate-stained cheek. Cassie tried very hard to hide the pang that surprise-attacked her heart.

Desperate for a distraction, she turned to her right, to Conner. He was looking at the other two fondly, a small smile breaking through his face of steel like it was butter.

She remembered back when they were younger, just children, before all the tragedies and the losses; he had smiled easier, then. Wider, unprompted, freely. Giving that handsome smirk like it was candy on halloween.

“It was a good idea to come here”, he acknowledged, once again making her snap out of her head.

“One day, you’ll just accept that all my ideas are good.”

“Do I need to remind you about the deal with the beet demon?”

“That wasn’t that bad.”

“Cassie. We had to eat borsch for every meal. For a month. I don’t think Bart ever forgave you about that.”

They both waited for a second to see if the speedster was about to interject, but he seemed to have missed their conversation, regaling Tim with a tale of his latest training session with Wally.

“Anyway”, Kon coughed, drawing her back to their moment, “it really was. I… I know I wasn’t the easiest person to convince, so..”

“‘The easiest person’? I had to track you down across an entire hemisphere, lasso you like a wild animal and drag you here kicking and screaming. Literally. My bruises have bruises.”

“Anyway, thanks. I… needed to see you all again. I never thought we’d be able to just… sit here and enjoy ourselves, without… you know, all the…”

“Angst?”

“... yeah. How did you even manage to secure us this spot?”

Cassie smiled, leaning back against her arms, enjoying the sun on her face.

“You can thank Tim’s brother for that. I made him promise to make sure no one interrupted us today.”

The other meta snorted.

“It’d be a cold day in hell before I thank Nightwing for anything.”

She winced a bit, but refused to let the implications ruin her good mood. “Come on, you know he’s not my favorite person in the world, but he’s really doing his best to be here for” -a quick glance, Bart still talking his heart out to Tim- “the new Robin. If you can bury the battle axe...he’s not so bad, nowadays.”

Unsure, he shrugged.

“I don’t really care if he discovers the cure to cancer and spends the rest of his life in seclusion as a monk. If I see him on fire and I have a big water bottle, I might help him put it out- after taking a few drinks, first. But that’s as far as I’d be willing to go for him.”

Considering the numerous times Kon had tried to outright attack the older vigilante, Cassie was going to take it.

“How's Jon?” she asked, subject change as unsubtle as a kick to the chest, taking a delicious french pastry between thumb and forefinger and examining it.

He copied her, selecting something brown and salty-looking from the assorted items

“Nothing new. He’s still a better mentor than Supes, though his choice in friends leaves much to be desired. Still, like I told you, I’m… better? I think?”

A pause, as he washed down whatever he ate with a raspberry slushie. Bart’s incessant chatter, once annoying, was now a beautiful background noise. He was just so damn happy, Cassie felt more accomplished even than the time Diana first told her ‘good job’ after a spar. All he’d asked her for his birthday, soft and broken among his tears, had been this; just the four of them, together.

And she’d done her best to make it happen, securing this place and guilting Kon into accepting. She’d done it, and the memory of Bart’s genuine laugh as he told Tim about his last caught villain would -hopefully- be enough to deter the nightmares sure to come with sunfall.

“Anyway, he’s good. What about Donna?”

Cassie let her head fall back between her shoulder blades with a groan, closing her eyes against the glaring midday sun.

“Ugh, don’t remind me. I love her to pieces, but honestly? I can see why my mom has so many grey hairs. Diana is lucky she’s perpetually young and perfect and thus doesn’t need to deal with stress lines. If this is what I was like when she trained me, I have a lot to apologize for. Starting, but not limited to, our days in Young Justice. We did so many stupid things back then.”

“So, the Titans are a riot?”

“They are a bad influence, and I hate how they taught Donna to disobey when I tell her to go to safety and let me do the fighting, but honestly, it’s so much like looking at our past, I can’t help but want to wrap them up in a blanket and wish them luck.”

“I wish you luck. This is why I refuse to take a younger hero under my wing. Too much responsibility.”

“You are a weak bitch. Even Bart is mentoring someone. We have to nourish the younger generation, Kon. Think of the children.”

“You are nineteen, stop talking like you just turned seventy.”

“Well, Cissie is retired. It’s not such a stretch.”

“I’ll tell her you said she’s old.”

“Don’t you dare.”

After those first few hiccups, the rest of the afternoon went smoothly. Uncharacteristically restrained of them, no food fight ensued, but even so it was a pretty fun day. They caught up with each other, teased about past exes and questionable fashion choices, and every silent, solemn moment was endured with joined hands and hearts, a united front against the grief.

Bart’s wet eyes shone, filled with gratitude, when he blew the candles. Cassie caught the exact moment on camera, having learnt the value of getting those precious seconds immortalized forever somewhere other than her own mind.

He kept his wish to himself, but it wasn’t really a mystery. Just by the way he glanced at Tim, they could harnett a pretty solid guess.

Heartache was a familiar, almost comforting feeling to her now, but the wave of raw emotion that almost washed her away at Kon’s crystalized eyes and Bart’s trembling hands gave her pause. Cassie looked away from them for just a second, giving herself this moment of weakness, and in the fleeting light of sunset, she could have sworn she saw a familiar face, looking over them from the shadow of a tree, smiling fondly.

But it was missing with her next blink, so she just shook her head to dispel any traces of wistfulness and turned back to her boys.

It was in silence that they picked up their stuff. Super speed would have made it a chore of just a millisecond, but none felt the urge to run away, so they took their time, hands brushing and then clutching while they cleaned up this sacred place they had borrowed for the day.

Cassie really needed to thank Damian for coming through for her on this. As much as she had despised the other vigilante in the past, a leftover feeling from Tim’s own feud with his older brother, she had learned to forgive and forget. It was, she’d come to accept, the only way she could move on.

Basket finally full with the blanket, empty plates and chocolate stained napkins (Kon’s hand had trembled as he cleaned Bart’s cheek in their leader’s stead), they stood together, arms around each other with the birthday boy in the middle. One by one, they said their goodbyes. It hurted a little less than the last time they could manage to do this, perhaps helped by the fact Kon hadn’t stormed off midway this time.

Cassie smiled. It was sad, it was raw, it was heavy. But it wasn’t broken. She-they- weren’t broken. A puzzle with a missing piece was incomplete, not shattered.

The hand not around Bart’s shoulders stretched, as Cassie’s finger traced the poem they had Bruce engrave in Tim’s tombstone.

“He was my North, my South, my East and West,

My working week and my Sunday rest,

My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;

I thought that love would last forever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now; put out every one,

Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;

Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;

For nothing now can ever come to any good.”

The kids that had chosen that poem as immortalization of their grief had been drowning in it, she knew. Had needed a way to let the world know “we are not okay, we’ll never be okay again”. It was, maybe, what saved them back then.

But she wished she could crouch down in front of those lost, overwhelmed kids and tell them ‘you never stop missing him, but you learn to be happy again; and he brings you all together, just like the first time’.

So Cassandra Sandsmark, former Wonder Girl (now something more), lets her head fall back, looks at the setting sun and smiles. Because she can. Because she’s alive, and she’s gonna fucking smile for him, if its the last thing that she does.

-.-.-.-.-.-.-

The shadows of the coming night hide him, embrace him, want to keep him; he puts a stop to that, let’s himself be kept from wandering eyes but avoids the eternal retaking. He’s seen that side of the road and is under no hurry to visit it again.

Instead, he watches the young heroes, bathed in light and laughter, sitting around a dead bird’s grave.

He yearns. He wants, more than anything, to go to them. To join them in the warmth, in happiness. To go back to the only home that never felt anything else than welcoming.

But he has work to do; there’s a new Robin in the streets, and he needs to ensure that what happened to him doesn’t happen to this frail, rough around the edges and full of life bird.

He waits until they pick up and leave, before donning his suit and walking in the opposite direction. Hopefully, a time will soon come when he can smile with them again.

But, for now, the Red Hood has a clown to hunt and a criminal underbelly to conquer.

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 14

Somehow someway you had ended up spending the night in Toby's room. What had started out as sitting next to him turned into laying down next to him. And after a while of no talking or movement, just the steady sounds of breathing. You more or less closed you eyes for a minute.

Before you knew it you were waking up to sun in your face. And found a blanket haphazardly thrown onto you. Though honestly you probably just moved a lot in your sleep. A quick glance around the room tells you you're alone and by the looks of it have been for a little while now. Weirdly there doesn't seem to be a clock in the room and when you go to check your phone the battery is dead.

'Oh God what time is it?' you worry as you gather yourself to leave the room in search of a clock.

Even though you have the strongest suspicion that you're already late for work. Fuck Nate is gonna kill you. You hope you don't get fired for this. That doesn't really seem like the Cowell way but you really don't want to risk it. No where else in town would pay the bills plus give extra cash for doing jack shit.

Just as you closed the door behind you you see Toby and Connor walking up the corridor. Toby has two bowls in hand and his steps falter a bit when he sees you.

“Shit did I wake you up?”

You can see the veins in his arms as he tenses, poor guy must have a tic coming on. You hold your hands out to give him the option of handing them over so he can relax. With no hesitation on his end he does just that.

“No? I don't think so, I just woke up. What time is it?”

Toby's hands jolt in place. A large tremor of movement, thankfully you took the bowls from him so he wouldn't have splashed...cereal? Your confusion must have shown because you get a nervous laugh in response.

“It's like eight twenty or something.” seeing you visibly deflate he adds, “Barry told me to tell you you're excused from work today.” He took a bowl back from you and placed a hand at the small of your back to push you back towards his room. Apparently done with having a conversation in the hallway and letting your breakfast get soggy.

“Barclay.” you remind him, your efforts award you a shrug, “and are you serious? Because making me late for work wouldn't be very funny.”

He plops on his bed and a bit of milk sloshes out of the bowl dropping on to the sheets. In the back of your mind you think about how Barclay more than likely is going to ban Toby from the lodge for anything other than an emergency. At least if he ruins the bed by dropping food all over it...actually you're pretty sure Jake's mentioned there being a rule about eating in the rooms.

“I'm serious, you can go ask him yourself.” his face flushes as he shovels a spoonful of Captain Crunch into his mouth, “twey shed somfingu bot ah ahpawawgee for da kid”

You give Toby a sneer as you process what he just said. Even normally your brain didn't always process what was said to you properly and Toby speaking with a full mouth certainly didn't help in any case. But you can kind of gleam a bit more context from his red cheeks that your spontaneous three day weekend is thanks in part to Jo hanging out with you yesterday.

Really you didn't mind that she hung out with you. But you would accept the apologetic day off for her attempting to give you a love life. You aren't one of her gossip stories nor do you wish to be.

“First, gross dude. Second, I'll take it.”

He snorts, “Watching me chew through the hole in my face is ne-neat but me talking with my mouth full is where you draw the line?”

“Honestly I never even thought of that.”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at how dumb that must have made you look. Geez you were such a dork sometimes. On the other hand it seems like that must have been the funniest thing Toby's heard in a while as he roars with laughter. Soon your chuckles turn into full blown laughter from Toby's contagious mirth.

“I'll get out of your hair after I finish eating.” you finally say when the two of you calm.

“...you don't have to do that. I-i thought we cou-cou-could hang out?” he says sheepishly.

Toby tends to stutter when he's nervous you notice. Maybe this was to be expected you kind of did solidify that you both wanted to be friends. Of course that would mean opening up to hanging out together on purpose more often.

“I'd like that! Did you have something in mind?”

The room goes quite, well more accurately Toby goes quite as you finish your cereal. Looks like someone hadn't thought this far ahead. At least you aren't the only dork in this room or this friendship for that matter.

Toby's dark eyes scan around the room, not really looking for something while he thinks of something you could do today. Instead of just staring at him like a creep you turn your attention to the rottweiler looking at you with hopeful eyes. Connor's eyes briefly moving towards your bowl where a tiny bit of milk sits and then back at your face. Licking his chops as he looks you dead in the eyes.

Having a pretty good idea of what he wants you look for Toby's bowl. If it was on the ground that'd be a good indication that Connor's allowed a bit of cereal milk if it was on the bed well then you'd still have your answer.  And sure enough right next to Connor's butt is an empty bowl.

Yup, Barclay is so gonna ban Toby from the lodge.

Throwing out any thoughts of the lecture you'd get if Barclay were to find out you let a dog eat from his bowls you place the bowl in front of Connor. Who sits in his position and won't stop making eye contact with the bowl. Tail going a mile a minute as he stares at his prize in anticipation. God he really is the best boy in the whole world.

“Thank you Connor.” you whisper to the dog before he attacks the bowl.

As the pup rips into the left over cereal milk, which wasn't even that much, you can't keep yourself from flapping your hands right by your chest. The fast movement seems to catch Toby's attention and brings him out of wracking his brain for ideas. Giving you a moment to just enjoy the happy stim he just watches. It isn't until Connor has bounded over to you letting you pet him as a 'thank you' for giving him a treat, that Toby speaks up.

“Is there...what's there to do here?”

Looking at Toby as you shake Connor's ears around, you don't immediately say anything. Honestly thinking of just what the two of you could do in this small town. Something that wouldn't prove to be too distracting and maybe give the two of you a chance to get to know each other better. Something without too many interruptions or things to get you off topic.

“Wanna go get a slushy?”

Toby's brown eyes cut as he stares at you unimpressed.

“I kno-rrow that we're in a small town but, 's not that small.”

“Oh no it's actually smaller.”

He rolls his eyes with a huff ready to bite in with a snarky remark no doubt until he catches your eyes and the serious expression. He stares at you, eyes darting across your face looking for a sign that you're joking.

Thankfully you aren't one to leave a friend in the dark.

“Tobias, the gas station Tim works at is the only one for this town.”

“That can't be right, it's not even in town. What about...” once again Toby's eyes shift as he tries to think of any other gas stations within Kepler.

When he comes to the conclusion that you are indeed not fucking with him and Kepler does just have the one gas station his shoulders slump. Almost like he's in shock that he hadn't caught that sooner. You can feel the tinkling sensation of a tic coming up, at the base of your neck. Timing it mentally as you watch Toby go through the stages of grief you miscalculate and ruin your tic.

Head jolting into your right shoulder rather than jerking above it. Letting out a small “fuck” at the fact that you're about to be in an uncomfortable sensation, not totally unlike when you chase off a sneeze but still do need to sneeze. You feel the tic at the back of your head but know it won't be going away anytime soon and all thanks to your hubris.

Looking back at Toby you find he's moved on from the single gas station fact and is looking at you mildly amused. Briefly you wonder if he's ever chased off a tic and felt the uncomfortable sensation you're now dealing with. That leads you to ponder if he's ever even felt the anticipation of nerves before a coming tic. It's not really a painful sensation but discomfort sometimes goes in hand with pain so maybe CIPA affects that feeling too. You'll have to ask, but first you have to shut his stupid face up.

“Shut it.”

“Didn't say anything.” he smirks.

His smiles are really growing on you. They feel special and very genuine despite the awkward nature of his facial movements.

“Hey wait, the mini mart doesn't even have a slushy machine.” he says as the realization finally sets in.

“Yea we have to drive to another town for one. So far Franklin has the best slushies but it's like two hours away.”

You lean your weight back onto your hands watching as Toby's wide eyes stare at you in disbelief. Actually in this light you really can't tell if Toby's eyes are blown wide or in their normal state. Judging from the way his lips curl over his teeth you figure they must be as he stares stunned by something you've said.

“Do you seriously drive two hours for a slushy?” the disbelief in his voice is thick, but not thick enough to cover the thinnest hint of amusement. Maybe even pity.

“Not all the time, sometimes its only like thirty. One night I actually drove five hours without realizing it...though to be fair I did get lost.”

Lost in your thoughts on that particular night some how you'd ended up in Point Pleasant. Instead of a slushy you'd gotten a Mothman themed iced coffee. A nice trip over all but one you didn't want to go on at the moment.

Coming back to the present in time to catch Toby flopping back on the mattress his curls bouncing up over his face as he did so. He let's out an exaggerated groan.

“Still, Brian's got the car today.”

Pfft that's not an issue.

“I have a car.” you say plainly.

That must not be the issue because Toby raises himself onto his elbows to look at your lax form on the carpet. Leaning back on your hands with Connor splayed across your lap looking ready for a nap. Toby opens his mouth to say something before shutting it and looking off to the side. He seems to collect himself quickly but not enough to look at you.

“Uh..I, that's not really the...” well maybe he hadn't collected himself that much.

Brow furrowing as you squint at the man before you. The two of you don't know a lot about each other but from what you've noticed Toby has some hang ups about drivers and driving. Although he's let you drive him home once that doesn't mean he was comfortable with it or wanted a repeat performance. And while you don't consider yourself a bad driver you'll spare Toby the difficulty of admitting he isn't comfortable with you driving.

“You can drive.” dark brown eyes are on you the instant the words spill from your lips, “You've driven my car before. Plus I don't mind I like not driving.”

His eyes dart from you to Connor and back up into your face. Even though they're darting slightly you know he isn't such evaluating your expression. He's thinking and weighing his options.

“You sure?”

And with no hesitation at all, “Absolutely, you've driven it before.”

Though he hadn't been thinking of that particular issue with being given the choice of driving your car. It did bring up another insecurity before hastily stomping it into the ground. He has driven your car, albeit once, before and you are giving him explicit consent to drive it again. Regardless of his tourette's, Toby honestly can't believe you have such blind faith in a person you've just befriended. Then again that's friendship isn't it.

“Ok then...let's go?”

After a nod from you Toby grabs Connor's gear to get him ready for the drive. Meanwhile you take the dishes back downstairs to the kitchen, letting Toby know you'd meet him by the door. Unsurprisingly Barclay is in the kitchen when you get down there to place the bowls into the sink.

Seeing as it's just the bowls and spoons in the sink you decide you can wash them before placing them in the sanitizer rack.

“Mornin'.”

“Good morning.”

“Basket's on the table.”

“Thanks.”

A quiet settles over you two and you can feel Barclay's brown eyes trail towards your form every few seconds. Finishing the dishes you turn, leaning your butt onto the counter, to face the lumbering man.

“Can I help you?” you raise a brow at him. Clearly he had something more he wanted to say.

“I, I just thought we were closer than that.” he sighs.

Okay what now? Your confusion goes ignored as he continues to speak.

“Seriously YN, you didn't need to sneak away last night if you wanted to spend the night here, and with your boyfriend. I wouldn't have judged.”

“My who? Tobais? He's a friend!” you whisper scream in case Toby is near by. God could at least save one of you this embarrassment.

“Really YN? From the things I'm hearin' you two are a bit more than friends.”

“Ok seriously where are you getting your info from? We haven't done anything. Like just YESTERDAY we agreed we were friends. We've known each other maybe a month?!”

“See that's why this is confusing, you don't touch just anyone. And suddenly you're handsy with some new kid.” Barclay had the decency to start whisper screaming with you. He's gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the lodge before bringing his hands before him and flailing them away. As if to say 'what am I supposed to do with this now?'

“He's neurodivergent!” you say bringing your palms up in front of you.

“So are Jake and Aubrey.”

“And I high five Jake so much.” throwing your arms outward to indicate how much you two high five. “Plus he gets a hug nearly every time I see him.” hands brought back to emphasis this point.

Barclay thinks on that for a bit, “Point taken,” he stands from his hunched position and crosses his arms over his chest, “so y'all aren't dating? Nothin' happened last night?”

“No and no.”

“Don't have to deep clean the sheets today.”

“Gross and no.” best keep the milk droplets out of this, you'd really like to leave the kitchen sooner rather than later. Preferably with no lecture about hygiene and the importance of respecting other's property.

Barclay looks down at you scanning your face for something you aren't quite sure of. But you have a feeling he's treating you like a child for a very specific reason.

“I'm not a virgin.” you deadpan as the man before starts to sputter.

His eyes wide with disbelief. So he really thought you were a virgin this whole time? You wonder who else thought this, you hoped they wouldn't try to confront you about your nonexistent relationship.

You'll just never understand why people assume you're a virgin and why they try their hardest to butt into your life when they think that way. This topic tends to put you in a sour mood and you can already feel it on your face. It's disgusting how people can't mind their business about baseless assumptions.

“Jeez sorry YN,” he does look it as he rubs the back of his neck, “it's just you've never shown an interest and I guess we all got swept up in the possibility of seeing you happy.”

“I am happy?”

“I mean in a relationship, happy in a romantic relationship.” He claps his hands gently on your shoulders. A touch you've gotten used too, had you not wanted it you would've taken a step back.

“Kirby's not in a relationship.” you point out.

“Kirby's gross, and you're adorable.” he chuckles at your glare, “a-dor-a-ble.”

“I will bite you.” he lets go of you with a laugh.

“We're just...trying to keep you safe.” he sighs, and though you don't understand what any of their weirdness has to do with “keeping you safe” you nod. Just to get this over with faster.

“Can I leave now? Tobais and I were gonna get slushies.” he didn't need to know your plans but you didn't want him assuming you two were sneaking off for a date.

“Yea yea, sorry for keeping you.” he leans against the counter as you grab your basket and head out of the kitchen and towards the main door.

Toby and Connor were already waiting for you. If the swaying of his weight was anything to go by they'd been waiting for you for a bit. Seeing you coming his subconscious movement stops and he opens the door. Keeping it open for you.  You lead him over to your Soul as you look through the basket for the keys.

“Keys?” he questions as you pat your pockets.

Toby stops walking with you as you begin to panic. You've lost your keys. Before you voice that though you look through the basket once more, placing it on the hood of your car so you can use both hands to check. His eyes follow you and are caught by a gentle swaying.

“You are a serial killer's wet dream.”

He opens your passenger side door and comes out holding your keys that had been in the ignition. If the blank look he gives you is anything to go by he's not impressed.

“I,I,I was in a hurry!” you say flustered that you did something so stupid. His expression doesn't change.

“Could you pop the trunk please?” you ask not looking in his direction.

The click of the lock is all you need to hear before you rush around him to place the basket in the back. As you do you catch sight of the deer skull still in your trunk. With everything going on you hadn't been to see Madeleine for a mount for the guy. You'll have to remember to stop by her shop this week.

Toby had already gotten Connor situated in the back by the time you sat down in the passengers seat. After buckling in and plugging your phone in to charge you stare ahead of you waiting for Toby to start driving. When you look over at him you see he's staring right back at you with a brow raised.

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

Yes the key detail of any road trip, the driver needs to know the destination. Unfortunately for you and Toby you've forgotten to tell him one crucial detail. You drive with no sense of direction. And you relay this to Toby. He looks seconds away from getting out of the car and claiming he's never seen you before much less ever been friends with you.

He takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“Y'know what Brian's worse with directions.” he says more to himself than to you.

He calmly puts the car in gear and heads off to town. No input from Connor, you may have chosen a really good day for this drive. Your phone hits one percent as you pass Resort Row. You know the Hornet's Nest is coming up and that intersection leads to the interstate despite not having legible signs.

“Hey when you get to the Hornet's Nest swing right then drive straight, we'll end up on route 3 onto the interstate.”

“Hornets' nest?”

“It's a skate/stunt park. You'll see it after we get away from the mountain.”

Just as you said Toby saw the Hornet's Nest as he turned onto the road leaving the mountain. By the time you were on route 3 your phone had charged up to seven percent. Enough to turn it on and put on a playlist. You put on one of your sea shanty and folk punk combos.

Toby hasn't even let the song get thirty seconds under way. “No vetoed, we are not listening to sea shanties.”

So he does have music preferences, fair enough. You switch to a playlist with a more chilled electric vibe that has a few oldies tossed into the mix. Toby hasn't heard this playlist before and you are determined to learn his music tastes today.

“Wait wait wait, so you'll listen to folk punk but not sea shanties?”

“How are those even related?”

“They are literally the same thing.”

The two of you continue to bicker back and forth about how similar, or different, shanties and folk punk are. Occasionally it's broken when you read a sign, noticing Toby's horrible squinting, to see if you're on the right route to...well you don't know the destination Toby's been ignoring most of the exits for the past forty minutes though you're sure you two could find a gas station with a slushy machine at any one of the surrounding towns.

You don't mind though you're really enjoying the ride. The soft sounds of the car cutting through the wind at seventy three miles an hour. And the dull hum from the engine falling into the background as They Might Be Giants plays softly through the radio. With a majority of his focus being directed to the road  and the handful of other cars around you, your conversation is limited to topics that don't require much thinking. Really you've just ended up playing twenty questions with the other pulling uno reverse.

Not life altering secrets or deep talks...well until the question was favorite romantic comedy.

“How is Venom a romantic comedy?” Toby laughs after you answer.

“They kiss!” Toby just snorts.

“No Venom in Anne's body kisses Eddie.”

“Yes Venom kissed Eddie. Romance.”

You hear the murmur of 'oh my fucking God' come from Toby as you giggle in your seat. Having been egged on by that simple phrase you continue.

“Eddie is always giving Venom chocolates.”

“Oh yes, sorry, that's very romance.” Toby laughs out rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, I'm glad I could enlighten...” you pause as a sign for the next exit catches your eye. Had you two already driven two hours? Time really does fly when you're having fun. “Hey next exit, Franklin.”

“Thanks got it.” this time he turns on the blinker to get over into the exiting lane.

“What gas station am I looking for?” smart man. He's stopped asking for specific directions and is now asking for a land marker.

“Giant baby.” the car comes to a stop at a red light and Toby takes his eyes off the road to face you.

“...is this...will I just know when I see it.” “When you see it” you say the last part in unison with him nodding solemnly.

To his credit Toby has gone a long way with your weird antics, despite being your official friend for less than a full day. Keeping up with this pattern he doesn't ask anymore questions about this giant baby, keeping his eyes peeled for anything worthy of that title. His valent efforts are rewarded not even ten blocks from the turnpike.

“Is that...”

“Giant baby.” you nod knowing he sees the giant opposum decal in the window of the beat up gas station.

Opening your glove box you remove a spare mask for yourself before offering a sealed in package one for Toby. Who readily takes it after he parks your car in front of the store. Turning to look at you, you can read all the skepticism on his face. It's funny how this is where he questions you, your destination and not like the way over here-or the moment right after you told him you had no sense of direction.

“They have the four divide mega slush.”

“What the hell is that?”

With a coy smile you put on your mask and exit the car waiting at the front for your friend to get his shit together. He doesn't take long to follow you, Connor's lead in hand, into the gas station.

For as dingy and beat up as it looks on the outside it isn't bad once you step inside. Might actually be cleaner than the mini mart in Kelper. Toby glances around taking a mental tally of all the patrons in the store and their positions. He does this a bit. Just hyper aware of everyone when in enclosed spaces.

Dragging him over to the slushy machine after acknowledging the cashier's greeting. Showing him the four divider mega slush cup you demonstrate how it works. Choosing the only three flavors you like and adding a random extra of the three into the forth slot.

The face he makes when you stick the straw in the middle is priceless.

Toby demonstrates how a slushy should be made. Grabbing the single cup and over filling it with cherry flavored ice. He doesn't pick up a straw and you two make your way to the counter.

Since Toby drove here you had no problem paying but he was quicker to get his wallet out and hand the cashier a ten for your slushies. They give him back his change and you two wind up back in the car, taking off your masks.

You take a long sip from you drink.

“I can't believe we drove for two hours for you to just wreck your taste buds.” a playful disdain in his voice.

“Not 'we', you.”

He cuts his eyes at you before shaking his slushy into his open mouth. Guess he couldn't use a straw when he was missing part of his cheek. No suction there.

“So?” you say adding the questioning lilt to your voice.

He shrugs, “It's good.”

“Worth the drive?” He shakes his head.

“Nah - drive made it worth it.”

[smokinrat]

Greetings and salutations, hope I don’t bother you to much. May I please have a romantic matchup for The Outsiders? And if you do two fandoms, then Creepypasta as well, don’t feel pressured to though-! I use they/it/he pronouns and I’m pansexual with a preference to masculinity. My Myers Briggs type is INFJ and Enneagram type is 4. My star sign is Taurus, moon sign is Gemini. Im about 4’11..not to happy about it. I’m rather introverted, and can be considered not a people person. I’m into dressing in all black and taking a liking to gruesome and morbid things like slashers, Tim Burton, death games, true crime documentaries, and anatomy. I also like to visit abandoned hospitals and houses just for fun, along with playing quite a few escape rooms. I just have a genuine comfort in the uncomfortable. I get a lot of monikers from friends in family like "discount vomitboyx", "doomer boy kinnie", and "Remake of Daria" before. I’ve come to the conclusion I just scare people off. In reality, I’m intimidated by everyone around me and find it hard to start conversing, which may or may not come off as rude to people. When I finally become comfortable with someone I start to become really sarcastic and joke around with them with witty banter. Most of my humor comes off really insulting, but I’ll apologize and say it’s a joke if it becomes a problem. Lots of people don’t like me or stay away from me because of my rude behavior. I’m not good with overly sensitive or overly annoying people at all because of that, and I can’t stand kids. Idiocy can get on my nerves too sometimes. I’m a huge animal person though. I have my moments where I can get really feisty, or very quiet and closed off. I’ve been told I’m also a laidback person. I’m the type of person that has lots of opinions on things but I keep them to myself and bottle them up. If pushed far enough I’ll become unforgiving, and aggressive. Especially with the types mentioned above. I find the most comfort in just being in my room drawing, reading and or listening to music ( My Chemical Romance, Arch Enemy, MurderDolls, Slipknot,,, sometimes Will Wood, McCafferty, Jazmin Bean or Mother Mother, etc. ), or even occasionally gaming on my switch or reading and talking about Greek mythology. My interests tend to be very restricted, and I shut down easily getting into new things. I’m a plushie maniac and when I fall asleep you can always see me cuddled up to one of them. I find it because I’m really touch starved. I’m guilty of being very submissive and maybe even masochistic. I suffer from autism, depression and anxiety. I have stims where I bite the inside of my cheek, pull my hair, fidget with my fingers or toy and bounce my leg. I even hiss or squeal when I’m upset. I’ve also been developing a eating disorder. If you do get to this, thanks for your time. - coii

Thank you so much for requesting! You sound like an amazing person and I’m so glad I got to make this for you! ❤︎

The Outsiders:

Personally, I see Darry taking a liking to you. He’d be intrigued by your style/interests, and appreciate you being more laidback since there’s already a lot of stressful things in his life.

Would 100% take you to look at abandoned houses, bringing along a first aid of course, and maybe taking you to an abandoned hospital if you guys could find one.

He isn’t offended by your humor, understanding that it’s just the way you joke around, and doesn’t take it as you being rude at all (guarantee he’s heard worse from the rest of the gang anyways).

If anyone ever gave you any trouble for your looks, behavior, interests, or anything else, he would immediately step in and make sure the person who was bothering you knocked it off.

Another thing he enjoys doing with you is watching you draw while listening to music with you, always happy to find a new song or band that he enjoys.

If you wanted, he would probably help you with talking in public, for example taking your order in a restaurant, or asking an employee for help at the store.

Wouldn’t let anyone in the gang bully/tease you about anything, and would probably hit them on the back of the head if they did (*cough* Dally *cough*)

Hear me out: Movie nights at the Curtis house, specifically horror movies

Would help you if you were ever going through a rough time, doing the best that he could to get you back up on your feet

Buys you plushies for any special event. Christmas? Reindeer. Halloween? Ghost, bat, candy corn, you name it. Just a random day where he felt like getting you a gift? Bread. A bread plushie. (Search up “Jellycat food plush”, it’s the best thing ever)

Overall I think he’d love to have a romantic relationship with you, appreciating you for all your worth

I hope you enjoyed this! I wrote it at 1:25am, so usually I would’ve added Creepypasta as well (still might, I’m home sick and have nothing better to do)

Love you guys! Have an amazing day/night, and I hope to hear from you guys soon! ☺︎︎❤︎

[birdy-bat-writes]

Final Conclusions

A/N: So Fish and I came up with this Dad!Constantine concept while talking about this one OC I created and a few OC’s she created. The one I created is named Maya. The premise of her story is that she’s a love interest for Damian and she treats John like a mentor/father figure since he’s teaching her to control her magic. This plot is basically what has sprouted any of the Dad/Uncle/Mentor Constantine content I’ve created. Fish has contributed a lot and I love her so much. The basis for this interaction is that John finds a lot of amusement in the fact that Damian likes Maya and he just hates John so much. Even though it’s based on an OC, I’m going to write it x reader style with the reader having the same powers as my OC. So now that there’s context let’s begin!

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 It’s the opening night of the Gotham Academy’s festival of the arts. The night where young artists and musicians show off their talent in the galleries and performances, and two people who never show up to these things- like ever- both happened to be here at the same time for the same reason. You. And it irked them to no end.

Both John and Damian arrived at 6:30 pm on the dot. Damian looked so irritated to see John there. Why is he even there? He doesn’t even like going to these things. But then again, neither did Damian. He decided to put his irritation aside and began to walk into the building with John. He had to admit, John stepped up for the occasion.

John cleaned up, did his hair, shaved and actually wore a jacket that was not his usual beige trench coat, all to attend some crummy high school art show. But he did it anyway because it was your work that was being displayed. The disdain he felt towards these events was replaced with a sense of pride he had in you. He sported a grey blazer and black shirt with matching slacks, that contrasted Damian’s black suit.

“Nice to see you here, Damian.”

“Likewise.” The conversation stayed stagnant for a while as they looked around at the different works displayed. Neither of them walked around much. The silence was broken when you walked up to them, looking elegant as ever in your green dress.

“Hey, guys! I’m so happy you both could come.”

“Wouldn’t miss it for the world.” Damian said sweetly. And that was a rare sight for John to see. Damian being sweet?!

“Do you want to see my display?” They both excitedly nodded “yes” and followed you to a wall at the end of the hall. You cautiously cut through the crowd and pointed. “Tada!”

“That looks amazing, Y/N. You’re more talented than you know.”

“Not bad, kiddo. It’s the best thing I’ve seen from you since that chicken you managed to turn green.”, John said ruffling your hair. Thank goodness you left it down. If it was done up, it would have taken ages to fix, but since you knew john was coming, you took the precaution. He had a habit of doing that when he was proud of you, and it made your day every time.

“Thank you. I’m just going to check out the ceramic displays, you guys want to come?”

“No thanks, dear.”

“I’ll just wait here.”

“Okay, see you in a bit. I’m so happy you both are here.” You chimed. You had that little gleam in your eye that you always did when you were happy, and Damian didn’t fail to notice. He lingered on it. Just as he did with your smile, and the soft glow on your cheeks. He was regrettably brought out of his love-trance by the sound of John’s voice.

“Does that look like ketchup on paper to you too? Or is it just me?” Damian wanted to roll his eyes and say something snarky, but instead, looked up at the painting john was talking about. It really did just look like a glob of red paint.

“I can’t even tell what that’s supposed to be. If it’s abstract, they did a good job.”

“To be honest, I don’t really get this ‘art’ thing. Half of these canvases look like something a two-year-old could muster.” John said, and Damian sighed in return.

“You have to look beyond the surface. Art is about the emotion behind the paint and pencil.”

“Alright, Picasso, what’s that one about then?” Damian stayed silent. “I thought you were an artist; you don’t get art?”

“I sketch sometimes but that doesn’t make me an artist.”

“Ah, damaged closet-artist.” Damian groaned lowly.

“There isn’t anything in that piece to understand. It’s just paint splatters. Half of these can only be admired for their technical skill; there’s no emotion behind them. If there is one, it’s not one that I understand.

“Whose work do you like then?” Damian gave that one some thought,

“I like the classics, I suppose. The only current artist whose work I’ve liked is Y/N.”

“Interesting, so, what emotion do you get from her work?” John had his trademark devilish grin plastered upon his face. He knew Damian was head over heels for you, and it sure was fun to get a rise out of him with that. Damian was trying not to let his mind wander off to the charcoal sketches he has framed in his room. You drew them for him and left them in his room one day. They were all sketches of Titus, Batcow, Alfred the cat and his personal favorite, a charcoal rendition of a polaroid you took. It was the two of you at the beach with the family, and Damian was smiling. It was rare and reserved just for you, so he couldn’t help but think the emotion he got from it was love. That photo stayed between the two of you, and the drawing wasn’t shown to anyone but him. John doesn’t get the luxury of knowing that. Why did he even ask? Why is he even here?

“Why did you come here?” Damian asked.

“Y/N invited me.”

“You don’t like going to these events. Why’d you say yes?”

“Same reason as you mate, I care about her more than I hate the rest of society.”

Damian gave a light nod that anyone would have missed if they weren’t’ looking for it. “What about you? It’s not like you enjoy school activities and such.” Damian looked a little flustered.

“I wanted to support my friend and classmate. It’s important to her.”

“Right, you wanted to support your girlfriend.”

“She’s not my girlfriend!”

“Aye, but you want her to be.” John said with a smirk.

“Excuse me?”

“Don’t give me that. Its plain as day that you like her.” Damian scoffed and looked down for a while.”

“How did you come to that conclusion?” He tried to play it off like sarcasm, but that didn’t really go as planned.

“You hate people and yet you love being around her. You’re an artist and can’t understand anyone’s art but hers. You want to protect her from anyone who you think isn’t good enough for her, myself included. The signs are pretty obvious.” Damian looked a little flushed but remained speechless. “And besides, she’s pretty easy to fall in love with, I hear. My home phone gets calls from boys on the daily.”

“What?! From who?!?”

“Hehe, and that’s how I came to that conclusion.”

“Constan-!”

“There you guys are! I’ve been looking for you. Art awards are going to be announced soon. Want to go find a seat?” You had just found the boys and were ready to take them into the auditorium for the Art Awards.

“Sure thing.”, John said cheerily.

John smiled and Damian just returned a cold glare.

***

They were seated next to each other and chose not to complain about it. Instead, opting to tense over the fact that they were nearing the end of the awards ceremony and your name hadn’t yet been called. This meant one of two things: Either you were about to win one of the top cash prizes or you weren’t going to win anything. And the thought of the latter had both John and Damian gripping the arm rests of their seats tight enough to dent them. The anticipation was building in all of you, but it flooded away from you when you turned and looked at the boys. They looked more stressed than you did, and it made you want to laugh. Of course, you stifled it. This is what you liked to call “Chaotic caring energy”. And truth be told, these two were awfully similar for a pair of people who can’t stand each other.

It was down to second place. You had lost hope and accepted you wouldn’t win anything. The boys hadn’t, though. They were literally at the edge of their seats, and you swear you saw Damian grab John’s shoulder at one point. Just then, you heard your name called. First place, Y/N L/N, 8th grade.

“Yes! I’m so proud of you!”

“Well done, N/N! I knew you’d be up there!” They could be heard over the Loud cheering from the rest of the audience. You walked up and received your award and you waved at them from the stage. John looked at you with a genuine smile and adoration in his eyes. He knew you were talented, and he was so proud of you for working so hard for this. You had finally gotten the recognition you deserved and the look in his eyes reflected how happy he was about it. Damian noticed too. John really cared about you. Damian saw it now. Maybe he wasn’t such a bad mentor for you after all.

While leaving the hall, the three of you saw Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim and Alfred waiting by the doors. They congratulated you and showered you with hugs. They had seen the ceremony as well, but they watched it from the auditorium balcony. While you were off showing your plaque to everyone, Damian took an opportunity to say something he felt he needed to say.

“Hey, John?”

“Hm?’

“When you said I want to protect Y/N from people who aren’t good enough… I don’t consider you to be someone I should protect her from. You’re a good mentor.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” They shared a look of agreement. Perhaps they had finally settled a truce. “And of course, I’m a good mentor for her. I’m the master of my craft.” John added smugly.

“I saw you light your tie on fire once.”

“Who said that was an accident?” They shared a chuckle. Meanwhile, Bruce and Alfred were making celebratory dinner plans, and you were standing flabbergasted with the boys because Damian and John were smiling at each other??? They walked up to you and overhearing Bruce’s discussion about dinner, Damian took the liberty of inviting John to join you.

You choked on your saliva, Tim looked beyond concerned and when John said he’d be delighted, everyone freaked. Bruce looked terrified, Dick squinted, and Jason was about to take a picture while Alfred just stared.

“Are they smiling at each other?”

“No, that’s not possible.”

“Um, they’re walking side by side and talking without grimacing.”

Y/N looks like she’s about to pass out. Someone catch her.”

[imaginethatalena]

#207: Dick Grayson x Reader

This imagine was based on this series of posts I originally found on Pinterest and I believe were originally created by @fwips I believe. No one requested this but I’m going through some intense personal stuff in my life with my family and writing helps me vent, and my relationship with my brother reminds me a lot of Dick and Damian so basing an imagine off of these seemed right at the moment i wrote it. I hope you guys enjoy it ❤ 

I will put in bold the writing that is not mine and are the words that come from the letters so everyone knows that the credit for those is not mine. 

To the original artist: if you would like me to take this imagine down as I used your words in it, PLEASE don’t hesitate to message me or pop in my inbox and ask me. I will respectfully do so ❤

Tag List: @crazyfreckledginger​ @stella-nebella​ @honorarybastard 

Add yourself to the Tag List

Rules for requesting.

Dick had finally had enough. He had stormed back into your shared apartment late one night after a particularly brutal fight with Bruce, refusing to speak about it even when you both woke up the next morning. In the following days he was oddly silent and stiff, only speaking to you and anyone else when they spoke to him, and if someone asked him what was wrong, he would just leave the room. You did your best to get him to open up about whatever the fight had been about, but he wouldn’t, something you found strange because he normally shared everything with you. You got particularly worried when you started getting calls from Alfred, Tim, and even Jason, all desperately wanting to know if Dick was okay. You hadn’t even known he’d cut off contact with all of them. The day you went to get the mail and saw a folded piece of notebook paper with words scrawled in crayon was the day you found out he’d even stopped speaking to Damian, and you were worried more than ever.

You came back into your apartment, glad that Dick was still asleep, and read the letter, hoping it would give you more context for what was going on with your boyfriend. Your heart nearly broke while reading it. 

“Dear Grayson,

Father has informed me of your intention to abandon resume your role as Nightwing again, rather than remain with me as partners. Good riddance, and take Drake with you. 

Yours, Damian W.”

“Dick, wake up,” you said, walking into the bedroom where your boyfriend still slept. He grunted at you in response, but he’d kept you in the dark long enough. 

“Don’t you grunt at me, Richard Grayson.” You pulled the pillow out from under his head, and he threw an uncharacteristically cold glare at you that nearly broke your resolve. 

“What do you want, Y/N? I’m exhausted.” 

“I want to know why Damian sent you this,” you told him, giving him the letter so he could read it. His eyes scanned the page quickly, and you saw a flicker of sadness in them before he just sighed and put it in the nightstand drawer.

“Dick, please, let me help you,” you pleaded, sitting next to him on the bed and taking his hand. “I guessed that you and Bruce had fought, and the calls from your family made it clear that it was bad, but Damian clearly doesn’t understand what’s truly going on. You need to explain things to him.” 

“It’s none of your business, Y/N,” Dick snapped, jerking his hand away from yours and retreating to the bathroom. You wanted desperately to help him, but he wasn’t ready to talk yet. Still, you were worried about Damian. He was more attached to Dick than his other brothers, forming a unique bond with him in the years that he’d been living with Bruce, and that bond was at risk of being ripped away from him, and you could only anticipate the heartbreak that poor boy was going through. 

Two weeks later, Dick seemed to be warming up to everyone again, although he clearly still wasn’t ready to talk. He was back to smiling around you at the very least, but he was still clearly sad about the situation with his family. It was around this time you found two more letters in your mailbox from Damian. 

“Dear Grayson,

You have not visited in some time. Alfred is quite worried and wishes to see you. Please return to the estate. I will allow you to stay in my quarters if you wish.

Yours, Damian W.”

“Dear Grayson,

Are you receiving my letters? You have not returned home as I requested. Please contact Alfred or myself post haste. 

Yours, Damian W.”

“Dick,” you said quietly as you came into the kitchen, placing the letters on the counter next to where he was making breakfast. The moment he saw them his smile disappeared. You moved to hug him from behind when he picked them up to read them, neither of you saying anything as he folded them and put them in his pocket. You hoped he would finally open up, but he just finished making breakfast as you continued to hug him. You weren’t going to push him to talk, but you needed him to know you were there for him. When you felt him shaking in your arms, you let go of him for a moment to turn off the stove so you could hug him properly as he cried. 

Throughout the next month Dick insisted on getting the mail, obviously trying to keep you from seeing any more letters that might arrive. He also went back to patrolling Bludhaven as Nightwing, meaning you went back to spending the majority of your nights alone worrying about his safety, but now it was his physical and mental safety. Eventually he felt comfortable enough to show you another letter that had arrived.

“Dear Grayson,

Are you coming back home soon?

Yours, Damian W.

P.S. I will allow Drake back if necessary.”

“At least he’s allowing Tim home,” you said with a small laugh, hoping to cheer him up, but instead he averted his eyes and whispered, “I didn’t know Tim had left, too.” 

You spent the night in each others’ arms after that, neither of you getting a moment of sleep as he finally told you what happened. 

“I don’t know what happened. Something just broke in me,” he murmured. “I realized that if I was getting this unhappy with how things were going between me and Bruce, then I didn’t have to keep coming back. I didn’t have to work with him if it was too much for me.”

“You have every right to feel that way,” you consoled him, running your hands through his hair. “You’ve been through a lot. It’s okay to take a step back.” 

“Jason had already taken that step, so I didn’t think it would be this hard, but I realized once I got back to you that I was leaving Tim and Damian behind, as well. Tim has always seemed happy enough, so I didn’t worry about him too much. Damian was always talking about how he belonged with Bruce as Robin, so I didn’t think he needed me.” 

“I think he does, Dick,” you said softly, finally taking the opportunity to share a letter that you’d found in the mailbox Dick had missed. 

“Dear Grayson,

I miss you.

Please come home. 

Love Damian”

Dick was silent again, gripping the paper tightly as he buried his face in your shoulder and held you tighter. You didn’t push him to talk any more that night. The right time to talk more would come when he was ready. You were just glad that he had finally trusted you enough to confide in you. 

One more letter came on one of Dick’s days off, and you sat with him while he read it aloud.

“Dear Grayson,

I would like to apologize if it was something I have done to keep you from returning home. I promise I will no longer do that thing, so please come back soon.I am using my best blue crayon as I know this color to be your favorite. Please tell me if your favorite is no longer blue and I will use another color.

Alfred said I should draw you something, so I have. It is myself and a cat. 

Love

Yours, Damian W. 

P.S. (These are rain drops!!)”

“That’s a cute cat,” he said, a genuine smile finally lighting up his face. 

“He used his best blue crayon, too,” you added with your own smile. 

“He didn’t do anything to keep me away,” Dick said sadly. “He’s been doing so well, he’s grown so much. I couldn’t ask anything more of him.” 

“Then you should tell him that.”

“I’m not ready to go back, though,” Dick said, raking his hands through his hair in frustration. “I can’t. Not right now. I’m not ready.”

“If you don’t want to go back, then you don’t have to, Dick,” you assured him, pulling him close to you. “No one can force you to go back.”

“But I’ve left him alone long enough.”

“Why don’t you write him a letter then?” you suggested. “I think he would appreciate it.”

Dick gave you a smile and kissed you, clearly a fan of the idea. He wasn’t ready to set foot anywhere near Wayne manor for the time being, and that was okay. He needed his space to think and sort out his feelings for awhile. Still, if Damian needed him that much, Dick was okay with sending a letter back. 

“I’ll go find our best green crayon for you,” you said, going in search of a box of crayons. 

“Okay Y/N,” Dick said with a laugh as he searched for a piece of paper. It wasn’t much, but it was a first step for Dick. Maybe this would be the only letter he would send back, maybe it wouldn’t be. Maybe someday he would call his family back, maybe he wouldn’t. Maybe he would go home soon, maybe it would take some more time. However things turned out, you were there to help him every step of the way.

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[aspiratinganxiety]

Christmas Dinner Part II

The much awaited final chapter of the Christmas dinner prompt! This is pure fluff with a delectable finish, if I do say so myself. The first part of this fic can be found here.  

I am so sorry that I had to repeatedly bump back the post date for this piece. You guys were so excited for it, and I swear that I got it to you as soon as I could. I’ve had a couple of weeks with a new job and some stuff that needed to get done around the house for the change in season. 

As always, I am grateful for your patience, and I would love to know what you think of my work!

(Side note: If you want to be added to a taglist, let me know. I don’t really have one yet, only a small one for Part II of the Ballerina/Dick fic. Not really sure if anyone is interested. Drop me an ask or message me if you’d like to be tagged in my work, and please specify if there are certain triggers that you’d like not to be tagged in.)

"Just make sure to act... ya’ know.... natural. Like we willingly spend time with one another romantically. Also please, please do not take Jason’s bait. He’s always an especially bitter pill during these parties. I don’t know why. It’s just like, one of his things. One of his many things. Oh! And remember-”

“Christ on a bicycle, Tim!” you interrupt him, patience completely evaporated. “I know how to be a girlfriend. I’ve been in more relationships for an amount of time that totals longer than your go with Stephanie. I know all the weird quirks with your family, even Jason. I understand what jokes not to make. All of my major etiquette lessons were from Alfred himself, and I don’t drink. Won’t make a habit of it in front of Bruce as an underage date to the only son functioning as a public figure for Wayne Enterprises. I get it. I know. Chill the fuck out and get off my back, or I’m going to punch you in your bird throat.” 

Usually, you do not threaten violence to anyone, especially people as kindhearted as Tim. Jesus God though, 45 minutes of his frantic dictation about your expected behaviors and you’re ready to strip off your bribery gown, roll out of the moving car buck-ass naked, and hoof it back to your apartment in the snow.

You have enough anxiety of your own, poured into a buh-jillion dollar dress that was made to push your boobs up to your chin and mold your butt into some kind of evergreen-colored peach. You can barely walk in your shoes, you’re wearing jewelry that cost more than your education, you are terrified that Damian might mistake your fake fur for the real thing and try to murder you on the spot, and the flower crown braided to your head is made of poky pine twigs, baby pine cones, and glittery sugared berries that are all working together to make your scalp itch worse than the week and a half you spent fighting a colony of lice in the fourth grade.

Fucking Lacey Whitaker and her four-feet of infested hair...  

In short, you want to die and you haven’t even tried to lie to Batman yet. 

“Wow.” Tim blinks, mouth scrunched into an unimpressed line. 

You sigh, hanging your head. “Tim, I am not going to punch you. That would be unkind and, frankly, a stupid move on my part.” You shake your head. “Not a fight I can win.” 

“I’m honestly less offended by the punching and more hung up on the bird throat comment.”

You cut your eyes at him, incredulous. “Yeah, well, that scarf isn’t exactly doing you favors.” 

He balks, jaw falling open. “Okay, first: you must be going blind. Francisco hand delivered all of the accent notes for my attire, including this scarf, so that I would match your dress. The one that you picked. The one that is on your body this very minute, if you would recall. The botanical embroidery is even consistent. So, yeah.” He motions to the fitted portion of the gown that can be seen hugging your thighs below the hem of your fluffy false fur coat. “Second observation: you are hella’ mean when you have The Anxiety, and I did not intend to fan that flame.” 

“Well, you’re hella’ bossy when you get nervous. Not a great combination to be crammed in a sports car together.”

“Noted,” he says, pulling the scarf looser.

The rest of the drive is somewhat tense as you both deeply question your life choices and rehearse the practiced cover story about first dates and whatnot. The sidewalk that leads to the main entrance of Wayne Manor is mercifully devoid of ice, having been flawlessly scraped and salted ahead of time. Alfred greets the two of you with a broad smile and ushers you into the bright, impeccably decorated foyer. 

“Happy Christmas,” he says, looking down at you in his warm, if distant, way. “Aren’t you a sight, Miss?” 

You acknowledge the compliment as Alfred hangs Tim’s coat and scarf, ducking your head in an awkward cross between a nod and a bow, frantically trying to peel the fur coat away from you before Damian gets a look at it. 

It is then that Tim sees the bodice of your dress for the first time. He stares, too struck by the full effect of the incredibly intricate, fitted garment to be ashamed that he is staring. The gown envelops you tightly from your bust to just below your hips, flowing seamlessly into rounded pool of silken fabric at the floor. Delicate lacework that echos the embroidery running throughout the piece act as wide, gossamer straps that tip over your shoulders and dive into what the cut of the dress would indicate to be a deep hemline baring a good portion of your back. With the high notes of red in your wreath, on your shoes, and staining your pretty, pretty lips, it’s hard for Tim to decide if the incredibly flattering silhouette created by your gown is more provocative than the contrasting, complimentary colors of forest green and holly-berry red that work to draw eyes up and down your body, then back up again... and down.... and up.

It is Alfred’s voice, chastising him, that breaks Tim out of his awed silence. “Take her coat and put your tongue back in your mouth immediately, Master Timothy.”

“Right!” he says, closing his eyes with a nod and stepping toward you. And again quietly, he almost sighs, “Right.” 

You hand him the fur, somewhat confused. Meeting his eye, you attempt to convey a look that asks whether or not he’s begun acting. After all, it’s only Alfred, and you both knew that there was zero hope of convincing the brilliant Englishman from the get. Tim was relying on the gentleman’s steadfast discretion to allow him this Christmas of peace from his brothers. 

Your initial reaction to Tim’s obvious admiration isn’t playful banter or a controlled taunt, as rehearsed. Rather, you are overwhelmingly flattered and suddenly battling an absolute tidal wave of uncharacteristic bashfulness. Heat burns in your cheeks from more than the rush of blood brought up by the warm house as you pass off your coat. Tim seems genuinely embarrassed too, as he avoids touching your hands and keeps his body far from you, using the full length of an outstretched arm to snag the outerwear. The left side of his face is crumpled in an apologetic wince, and the expression cuts clean through you. The bubble of your sheer delight implodes into a million little radiant drops as you try to decide whether or not the wince means he regrets having found you an attractive sight. 

That is not how boyfriends who enjoy your dress behave. Tim’s presenting a friend reaction, a friend who is afraid of having objectified or offended you. You steel yourself against the rush of anxiety that previously dimmed your flattered reaction and accept that you are gonna’ have to hem this tattered patchwork of a plan all by your lonesome if it’s going to be believable.

The Red Robin’s body language indicates that he’s all but thrown in the towel here at the door. 

And so, you take a deep breath, unfolding the neat, tidy little booklet of repressed feelings that you’ve been harboring in the pockets of your heart since you were 15, and you let yourself smile at him.

Really smile. The way you do when his back is turned. When his woefully dedicated or unimaginably funny words are in text. When you know it’s safe and no one will see the way that you smile for Tim.  

Your lips curve up a bit wry, teasing but encouraging. Teeth flash, a porcelain sign advertising your giddy joy and the silly sense of eagerness you allow yourself to feel, all-too-easily engaging the fantasy that this is a real date. Your shoulders half-shrug, and you catch the perfectly manicured nail of your ring finger between the knuckles of the opposite third and fourth fingers, running the corner of your thumbnail beneath it. The gesture is a nervous, fiddling one that communicates that damnably predominant shyness creeping up again.

You keep his eyes too, pegging him with an expression that communicates all of the softness and the intensity that you’ve been fighting to hide for so long. 

Tim goes stone still, like he’s been struck by lightening and his brain decided to exist stage left for intermission. He stares at you, staring at him like he’s answered some kind of prayer by grabbing your coat. 

For a brief, breathless moment, he feels like Gods must.

He’s dizzy with the sensation. It echos from his temples through his skull, then all the way down to every toe. A reverberation of unmitigated glory as delivered by the expression of someone he loves.

Nobody has ever looked at him that way. 

Not even right after he saves their life.

“Heavens,” Alfred mumbles behind him, a shared note of awe in his voice. 

Tim jerks, having completely forgotten where he was, why he’d be there, or that other humans who weren’t you existed at all.

The older gentleman relieves Tim of the coat, casting a prideful, knowing look over the much younger man. “I’ll just take that. Everyone is socializing in the parlor. Go on to the party, and I will call when the dinner preparations are in order.”

Tim, grateful that Alfred habitually motioned both of you toward the heavy mahogany doors that lead into the front sitting room, realizes that he somehow lost all memory of the manor’s blueprint. He also cannot recall the name of Damian’s dog.

“Well,” you say, waiting until Alfred bustles away before leaning toward him with a much more contained smile. You nod toward the parlor, a curl falling from its place pinned to your crown. 

“Uh,” Tim delays, closing his eyes and giving his head a quick shake. He dares to step closer to you and carefully brushes at the strand of loose hair. “Actually, do you think it would be okay if... um.... well, I was wondering if you’d like the plan being that this-” he motions between the two of you. “This was less for pretend and more for real?”

He speaks so quietly that you are straining to hear him. Beyond that, what you can make out of his words seem to imply a notion that has your heart hammering so hard that it isn’t leaving any room for your lungs to expand.

You get closer and whisper more distinctly. “More real how?”

“Like, real real.”

“You are not helping me understand, Tim,” you hiss, feeling rather vulnerable and unsure.

He grins haltingly, schooling his features into a gentler expression before balancing your chin on his thumb and forefinger. Tim tilts your face up, sure to keep gauging your reaction to his approach with inquisitive looks and plenty of pauses. Your eyes flutter shut after the tip of his nose presses into yours playfully, and he angles his head to brush past the bridge of your own nose and nuzzle into your cheek. 

Time stops again when you’re on the very cusp of kissing, lips together in a tickling brush with warm puffs of breath mingling between you. “Is this okay?” he asks, the press of his mouth to yours causing you to silently mirror the formation of his words. 

“Uh-huh,” you answer a susurrant hum, eyes still closed and oh so excited for a proper kiss.

“Ah, crap.” Jason’s voice booming out of the parlor behind you has both you and Tim jumping out of your skins. “That’s 60 bucks to Selina, guys! Turns out Timbo and Bo-peep are an item after all. They’re kissin’ in the foyer like animals! Catwoman takes the pot.”                                 

[chokeonmydickgrayson]

Headcanon #13

How the Batfam would react on your birthday

Dick:

You hate your birthday immensely. It’s just another ordinary day of the year, so much so that most people tended to forget it was your birthday all together, everyone except Dick.

He’d make the entire day about what you want, what you needs, and what you desire. He’d start your birthday morning off by allowing you to sleep in, he leaving the bed so not to disturb you. God knows you could sleep for days if left alone. On his way out of the room he’d brush your hair from your forehead and press his lips lightly to your temple before leaving. Your body would be appreciative as you flounder yourself around on the bed enjoying the newly opened territory for your arms and legs to spread out creating a starfish effect.

He’d spend the morning cooking a fresh stack of fluffy and light chocolate chip pancakes, topped with your favorite type of syrup and a dollop of whipped cream, one singular birthday candle of your favorite color place dead center. The plate didn’t look the nicest, nor did it look appetizing but he did do his best and after all it was always the thought that counts.

Once done cooking you breakfast there would be a mess of dishes in the sink, along with a sticky mess of eggs flour and syrup on the counters, which he claims he’ll clean late. (Most likely you’d end up cleaning most of it. Dick would probably give you a not so helpful hand however. He’d probably be more interest in slapping your rear end with a twisted towel and playfully nibbling your cheeks, but that was a later issue.) He’d bring a tray into bedroom, it holding the pancakes as well as a glass of orange juice and a birthday card. “Babe....babe....baby!....Y/N!” Youre eyes would flash open at the sound of your name, your body snapping straight up as you clutch at your chest in panic. “What? What’s wrong?...” you’d pant short of breath from the terror you’d just endored. He’d smile and sneak his lips right up against yours, spreading as much love and passion as he could through the kiss, your lips making a quiet pop as he pulled away and placed the tray on your lap. “happy birthday baby, I’ve semi successfully made you breakfast in bed. I’m sorry they look a little sloppy” he’d nervously laugh rubbing his neck. “I uh, I was trying to shape them like little hearts but clearly that didn’t work, so they’re uh more like little butts....” you’d probably snort and laugh at the comparison you definitely seeing what he means. Your non dominant hand would reach for his hand as you ate away at the pancakes every so often holding the fork up for him to share. They honestly really were delicious despite their looks. You smile and gently tap the bedding next to you motioning for him to sit. He willingly oblige and set himself down next to you.

After breakfast was done, he would gather your favorite movies and games and hook everything up in the bedroom. You two would spend all day laughing and cuddling (though after you defeated him in Mario Kart by throwing that turtle shell at him, your relationship was slightly wounded, but not enough to stop the festivities.)

During the movies things between you and Dick would heat up, his fingers dancing at the mouth of your pants before sliding down them, making for one very large distraction. You probably wouldn’t even focus on the movie from that point on. The rest of the day would consist of you two participating in a series of on again off again sexual activities. It would be perfect, the exact birthday you’d want. To spend time with someone who loves you. You’d appreciate all the little efforts Dick went through to make this day special for you.

Jason:

You would dread opening your eyes. Every year when your birthday rolled around you did your absolute best to ignore it, you wouldn’t even bring it up to anyone. In fact you avoided most people because you didn’t wanna hear the phony well wishes and the fake insincere “happy birthdays!”. You’d try to take some advantages of your special day however, maybe by trying to catch some extra Z’s or by attempting to stay in bed all day, nothing too over the top.

So when Jason wakes you up early by wrapping those thick muscular arms around your waist while those strong rough palms of his traveling up your torso to caress and hug the curves of your chest, your slightly unamused. You would just want some rest. You’d give out a soft groan, to which he’d lean himself into your ear while his hand traveled down the insides of your arms to land itself into your palms, his fingers treading around your own as he whispered “sorry baby I didn’t mean to wake you....I just wanted to be the first one wish MY girl a happy birthday.”

Your heart would stop in your chest your hand squeezing his tightly, almost annoyed that he knew. How did he fucking know it was your birthday? You’d never told him “who told you? I wanna know so i can rip their tongue out through their nostrils” you’d growl out to which he’d be highly confused. His hand would release from yours his arms opening so he could easily reposition your bodies so you would face him. Those deadly blue eyes of his would lock on with yours and scan every inch of them. “I found the information by myself thank you very much. Come on Y/N, you think I woulda let some woman I don’t know for shit into my bed? I know the sayings keep your friends close enemies closer but for fucks sake babe I’m not trying to get myself offed. A lot of people in this town want me dead, I had to make sure you weren’t one of em’. I did some snooping and I found out your birthday....I didn’t think you’d have a god damn fucking fit about it.” You’d sigh and collapse your body into his, your nose rubbing softly against his jawline you inhaling his scent before placing soft kisses along his neck. “I....don’t really like to celebrate my birthday alright? Ive got some jacked up memories locked away nice and tight in this loon bin up here, and I’m not quite ready to set them free.” Your arms would move to seek comfort around his torso, giving him a gentle squeeze.

Truthfully Jason would understand, he couldn’t disagree about that whole high priority list of shitty birthdays and top level disappointment they brought. He’d wrap his arms securely around you, his legs spreading apart to consume your body between them, he pressing kisses to your temple. “Well, I guess there goes my big plan for today out the windows” Youd feel almost guilty for throwing such a fit. It was clear Jay had something planned for the two of you....”What cockamamie shit fest did you have in store for today Jay” you’d sighe reluctantly. You should at least hear him out if your gonna shoot the man down. He clicked his tongue against his teeth sucking down a breath in aggravation “well i WAS gonna take you down to Eddies where we met and I WAS buy you a few birthday beers, and maybe recreate the night we met...but hey ya don’t wann celebrate your birthday fine by me” he huffed out his voice starting to draw softer as he finished his sentences. He’d gotten himself caught up in reliving that night. Best day of his life....you tried to hustle him for money and when he attempted to take it back you nearly broke his god damn nose. It was the hottest fucking thing ever. He ended up buying you a drink, and after a few of them you ended up back at his place, naked with him in bed. Ever since then he’s been hooked on you in every way. Just everything about you, your attitude, your determination, your guts, and especially that right hook of yours turned his knees weak and capture his heart. “We’ll just sit here and you can fucking pout one out for all I care. Excuse my ass for trying to be a good boyfriend”

Riddled with guilt you’d let your finger tips ghost over the sides of his neck, your hands moving to his rest on his cheeks as you pulled him closely stealing a soft kiss from him. That all sounded like the best birthday you could ever wished for. You press yourself into the kiss turning the intensity up, humming as you feel the sensation of his hands grip onto your waist. He’d lock your hips together, causing you to break the kiss with a disappointed sigh, fingers gently rubbing against his stubble “I guess where going to the bar for my birthday.....but if you start singing, I’m gonna slap your lips right off your face and I’m leaving you there”

Tim:

Truthfully you’d almost wanna avoid Tim, you knew he’d most likely figured out your birthday by this point in your relationship. How couldn’t he have? He was the smartest man you’d ever met and one hell of a great detective. Figuring out your birthday for him must of been child’s play. You’d sigh and strech yourself out shuffling your way to the kitchen where’d you’d find a plate of scrambled eggs (Tims speciality. Honestly it was the only thing he knew how to make. Everything else ended in a gelatinous molten mess that requires an emergency team to extinguish). He’d smile and look up at you “hey babe, I made us some breakfast...i call it le scrambled eggo and le orange juice!” He grin attempting (and failing) some weird cross between a French and Italian accent, complete with equally failing hand gestures. You’d give a snort and gently nudge his side with a giggle, though this wasn’t particularly out of the ordinary. He made breakfast for you two virtually every morning, (well every morning that you didn’t mind eating eggs) had he not figured out your birthday?

You continue to go through your daily routines together, the entire ordeal seeming very.....ordinary? There was no sense of suprise, nothing that struck you as special....just an ordinary day? You can’t help but feel a little saddened by it, though genuinely what did you expect your birthday was always a defeated reflection of just how well things always turned out for you.

You’d grumble to yourself while your body pressed into his on the couch, you two watching a bit of television together. He’d sling his arms around the back of the couch, one arm moving to slide around your shoulder. His hands would begin to gently message and rub the exposed flesh of your upper arm as his lips would move in to press against yours. Honestly a little hurt by his inability to figure out your birthday, (petty yes, but god damn it was your birthday and regardless of if you liked it or not he should have at least figured out it was your birthday and wished well beings today.) Your shoulders scrunch and you turn your head away from Tim. Instantly his chest aches as he looks at you with those broken puppy eyes, he having nothing but confusion written across those strong handsome facial features. “Hey what was that about? Did I do something wrong?...” You’d shake your head and push his arm off of your shoulder. A pout would press its way firmly across to lips sagging the corners of your mouth down. “Tim do know what to day is?” He’d look at you with a raised brow, most likely thinking you were having some crazy mood swing. “Moooonday?..”

You’d roll your eyes and gather yourself from the couch, storming off to the bedroom slamming the door shut behind you. All you wanted was to just curl up and cry at this point, though you were unsure as to why you cared so much about this whole not figuring out your birthday deal. It’s not like you liked your birthday. You’d let your back slump against the door with a single upset sigh. Tim would immediately chase after you, hands moving to twist the door knob and shove the door open. “y/n can you just talk to me instead of storming away please? I’ll take full responsibility for whatever it is I’ve done, I’m an asshole, I’m a dirt bag I’m some other third thing girls scream when they’re made at their boyfriends-“ to which you’d cut him off by screaming “dick!” He’d huff and cross his arms “did Dick do something to upset you? I’ll kill him, I’m pretty sure Bruce likes me more anyway. I’m sure I could get Batman to stall police commissioner Gordon and that’ll take the heat off of me for a while and give me time to get us outta Gotham-“ You’d groan and swing the door open, your eyes glossed with a layer of tears “Dick didn’t do anything wrong! I’m calling you a dick because you didn’t....you didn’t wish me a happy birthday. I know I didn’t tell you but, I just...I don’t know I figured-“

He’d cut you off lips pressing against yours to silence your hysterics starting. “I did know....I knew today was your birthday, but I acted like I didn’t know.” You almost feel the anger boiling with in you as you shove him away, he sensing your anger. With wide eyes he’d hold his hands up quickly trying to explain “I didn’t say anything to you because I also know you don’t like your birthday babe! I didn’t want to make a big deal of it...” His hands would move to yours he locking your grips together as he pulled you closer “I didn’t honesty mean to hurt your feelings, you know I’d never do that intentionally....I’m sorry I fucked up. I shoulda said something at least. I was just going to keep things light and casual today, make it like every other day. Let me make this up to you? I know today was a giant swing and a miss, but what if we salvage the rest of tonight...” His lips would move to suction against your neck, palms releasing yours to ghost gently around to your back side “and in the morning well redo the entire day, I’m talking breakfast in bed, maybe something birthday-ish like a muffin, then I’ll take you out into town for dinner and a movie. Afterwords we can head down town to your favorite store and I’ll let you pick out whatever you want....”

You smile at the idea, lips parting to let a soft gasp pass your lips as his hands press into your rear, fingers gently digging into the meat and lifting your cheek. Your body would move instinctively into his palms your lips hovering above his own now you whispering out a single “please...” before allowing your body to fold into his touch. He’d hum and lift you into his arms wrapping your legs around his waist easily carrying you to the bedroom. You can damn sure bet that he made true on that promise. He lavished your body until you begged him for mercy, and when morning came did the best to recreate the perfect day he should have done in the first place. God why were women so complicated, next year he was just gonna ask you what you wanted.

Bruce:

He’d wake you up nice and early, his lips moving to take your earlobe between them. He’d gently suck at the flesh, hands moving to run tenderly across your body’s natural curvature he whispering into your ear with that deep gruffy morning voice of his “hmm happy birthday darling...I’ve got a lot planned for today. We gotta get a move on though it’s time to get up. I want to take your for brunch and afterwords we need to make a stop at Wayne Tower. I’ve gotta pick up something from my office.” Groggily you’d roll yourself over to face him, your hands blindly searching to hold his face, thumbs brushing the quickly growing morning stubble that scuffed his cheeks. “Hm...it’s my birthday Mr. Wayne, don’t you think I should decide what we do?” you all but pur, lower body moving to press against his. Your toes would gently brush against his shins as you move to slip your leg between his. He’d let out a soft hum, hands falling to your thigh, hooking it up closer on his hip. Those big palms of his would rub gently at the underside of your thigh he softly patting the area. “Ordinarily I’d let you have your way, but we need to get a move on things. I promised Lucious I wouldn’t be by the office to late, he has somewhere to be tonight” This response would warrant an aggravated sigh as you threw your head back with a pout. He’d give a chuckle gently pressing kisses to the exposed part of your neck just under your chin. “You can have your way all you want tonight Y/N. Trust me, if our schedule wasn’t so air tight today, I would stay here in this bed with you all day”

Reluctantly you’d manage an agreement to go along with the daily schedule. Now you were grumpy because you had to get dressed for brunch and because you have to stop at Wayne tower. (You knew “going to Wayne Tower to see Lucious” meant he had to play Batman for a while. Sometimes you hated that stupid cowl.) Brunch with Bruce Wayne meant this was most likely not a place where jeans and your typical choice in shirt were acceptable. No for this place a beautiful black floral maxi dress would do. It’d drape your body, a slit clean up the side just about to mid thigh. The sleeves would be short, just capping the tops of your shoulders. Your wrist would be decorated with silver bracelets including the stunning white gold charm bracelet Bruce got you for your anniversary last year. You cherished it, not because of its monetary value, but because of the way he locked it onto your wrist and kissed the top of your hand whispering “I don’t know what I would do without you. I love you to the ends of this world and back Y/N.” You sigh at the memory.

You’d play along and accompany Bruce to brunch. Admittedly you weren’t too upset seeing as to how delicious everything was and hey, who could be against alcohol in the morning? You two managed to kill off a few hours of your day at brunch the time being 3 in the afternoon. The car pulled up to Wayne Towers, he moving to open your door. “I promise we’ll be quick, then we can go home. I think Al’s making your favorite for dinner tonight” he’d laugh. You two would make it to his office, you surprised. To your surprise he wasn’t stretching the truth when he said it would be a quick trip to Wayne tower. Lucious would smile and give you hug, extending a very happy birthday from the Fox family. You’d smile and accept. It’s taken about an hour for the entire meeting between the two, Bruce smiling back at you as he extended a hand out for you. “Come on we’ve gotta get home, Alfreds asking where we are” he hummed.

You two would arrive home after about another hour, for some reason Bruce had decided to take the longer route home than normal, though you didn’t think much of it. You were mesmerized by the hold of his hand on yours and the way his thumbs gently grazed your knuckles. By the time you two would pull up to the Manor it’s be around 5. All you wanted to do was go upstairs change out of this god forsaken dress and rip Bruce out of that tantalizingly tight pink button up he wore (he matching the flowers on your dress) and make your way with him just as you intended to this morning. When you open the door you begin to pull your hair out of a pony tail, your fingers releasing the elastic hair tie sending it flying across the room as your body flinched in shock at the massive change in volume as everyone in the house screamed “SUPRISE!” You look around heart racing out of your chest, Damian holding a camera to your face “I don’t know father, I think she looks more terrified than surprised.” He’d say half heartedly throwing the camera at Dick. The boys would smile and one by one come over and press a kiss to your cheek and give you a hug “happy birthday Y/N” of course Dick being the brown nose he is would smile and hit you with the “You don’t look a day over 20” to which Tim would interject with “ah, 21. Hey a girls gotta be able to drink at least.” At first you’d be a little furious at the party but at second glance you thought it was sweet. Bruce’s boys, Al, Lucious and his family. All your friends and loved ones in one spot. You’d give a smile and lean in close to Bruce softly kissing at his cheek “you didn’t have to go through all this trouble baby, I would have been fine with a romantic night in bed together” to which he’d smile and coil an arm around your waist and chuckle “don’t worry after cake and once Lucious and the boys all leave I’m yours, you can for lack of better terms ride me until one of us breaks” he whisper with a wink.

[daveleddenwriter]

The Tortured Artist

The Tortured Artist

By Dave Ledden

For as long as I could remember I wanted to be an artist. My earliest memory is of my three year old self finger painting on the driver side door of my dad’s vintage Mustang. His face went blood red with rage and tears built up in his eyes when he caught me. I can still hear my mom’s words, vividly. “Calm down! She’s just a baby, she didn’t know what she was doing!” Needless to say he kept me well the hell away from his car for the rest of my childhood.

  For years I was the top art student at every school I went to. I continued painting, sketching, sculpting etc..  I got marks that were excellent, so I began studying art at college. I moved into a small place with my friend, Sasha. Well, at least I did for my first year of college. She dropped the philosophy course that she was doing and planned on moving closer to her home and her boyfriend. I was relieved to have some privacy, It meant I could have more space in the flat to work on my creations and she wouldn’t be here to force me to not stay up all night working. I was secretly excited the day she left.

 “I hope you won’t be lonely here by yourself.” Sasha said, putting clothes in a suitcase.

“Maybe a little, but I’ll manage.” I said, trying not to grin. “So you’re moving in with your boyfriend?” I never referred to him by his name because to this day, I’ve no clue what it is.

“No. We’ll move in eventually, but I’m not ready yet.” She replied. I nodded. Sasha then took a peak at the picture I was currently drawing. It was a ink sketch of a  cemetery with Tim Burton style headstones and trees.

“That looks darker than your other pictures” She said.

“I thought I’d experiment with a new style.”

“What has you experimenting?”

“You’re meant to experiment in college.” I replied, smirking.

Sasha laughed, then she became serious. “I hope you take care of yourself when I’m gone.”

“Yes mom.” I replied, sarcastically.

She continued  “Sleep, bathe, eat regularly.”

“Breath, blink.” I joked.

 We chatted until she had to leave. I helped her carry her luggage to her car. We finished loading her bags into the car. She hugged me.

“I’ll call you when I get home.” Sasha said.

“Okay.” I replied.

“Marian, please promise you won’t work yourself to death. Get some sleep and don’t shut yourself off from the world.”

I looked into her  eyes and saw that she was genuinely concerned. I didn’t want to promise her that, I knew if I did I’d be lying to her, but I didn’t want her to worry about me. So for what felt like an infinite amount of time, I couldn’t give any form of response. I stood quiet and expressionless. Sasha waved her hand in front of my face, snapping me back to attention.

“Marian, promise me!” Sasha said, with a stern look on her face.

“Ok…” I said, weakly.

***

I slammed back four cups of coffee and two cans of monster that night. After finishing my graveyard sketch earlier in the day, I had a new project to start working on. I was enjoying trying out the gothic art style and I wanted to make a sculpture in it. It was a doll, a girl with a white face and a long black dress and long black hair. The dress was made with some spare cloth I had and the hair was made with wool. I made her thin arms with some silver metal. Her face was also made with metal, but I painted it white. It took close to four hours to finish the doll and the sun was coming up. I looked at the sculpture with satisfaction and placed it on the shelf facing my bed. I finally crashed and went to sleep.

I woke in the afternoon, groggy and tired. I was blinded by the sun rays that invaded my bedroom through the curtain-less window. I rubbed my eyes until they adjusted to the light. When they did, I looked at my shelf, wanting to see the doll. My shelf was vacant and I was immediately wide awake from shock! I shot out of bed and stood frantically glancing around my room! I calmed down when I saw the doll lying face down on the carpet, about a foot away from the front of the shelf. The doll didn’t look damaged when I picked it up to inspect it closely. I was relieved because I wanted to work on a new piece tonight instead of repairing this one.

***

I created at least one art piece a night, sometimes more than one. I had a two week long break from college and I spent all of that time locked up in my apartment. I slept most of the day and worked nearly all night, every night. I never admitted this to Sasha whenever she would call. My groggy voice would always almost give me away, but I was able to reassure her any time she would become suspicious. My routine was working with little to no hassle… until halfway through the first week of the mid-term.

I heard strange noises at first. It sounded as if an animal was scratching the inside of the vents. I naturally assumed I had mice and I was quite angry that I’d have to leave my apartment to get traps or poison. I didn’t deal with the problem right away. I didn’t want to waste time. I had started a new sculpture that was gonna be far more complicated than any other ones that came before it, and thus required a lot of time to complete. It was a life sized self sculpture made from clay. The porcelain coloured skinned statue stood at 5ft 7’, and was clearly too large to fit into the kiln that I keep in the kitchen. My plan instead was to go over it with a hair dryer until it was bone dry. I got started and continued to work diligently on it. I neglected so much sleep, sometimes working the whole night through. When I actually did sleep it was only for short naps. I was beginning to hallucinate from exhaustion. A couple of times since the college break, I thought I saw my doll walk around my bedroom, through the cover of my eye. When I turned my head around to get a better look, she was always on her shelf where I left her, stood as he’d always been.

I only ate packaged foods that I didn’t have to waste precious time cooking or preparing. I also made sure that there was a cup of water next to me at all times so I didn’t accidentally kill myself with dehydration. I occasionally drank from the wrong cup resulting in me swallowing what I can assume to be a gallon of paint tainted water, in the course of only a couple of days. It was worth it. As long as I finished my piece, I didn’t mind having to withstand a bit of poison. Sasha rang a few times while I was focusing on the sculpture, so I didn’t respond. I was far too busy for guilt.

The scratching from the vents didn’t stop, in fact it had gotten worse. One night while I was making progress on statue me, so much It seemed that I would have it finished a few of days earlier than scheduled. The mice in the vent were going crazy! What was odd was the scratching didn’t sound like toe nails on metal, it sounded like metal on metal. It was pretty late, 03:35 A.M. according to my phone so I assumed I was just hallucinating again. I was too happy with my work to care so I powered through. All was going well until maybe a half an hour later. The scratching stopped for five minutes. I sat in total silence, glad that the mice were giving me some peace and quiet. Suddenly another noise emanated from the vent, but it wasn’t scratching. The sound that I heard this time, I can only describe as being demonic laughter. It didn’t sound like it came from a person. I’d never heard anything like it before, which is why I’m having difficulty describing it. It was high pitched, like a cartoon rodent, but it also sounded like metallic rattling!

My heart was racing and I was physically shaking. The laughter ended and when I calmed down I decided to not only get to sleep there and then, I also planned on taking Sasha’s advice to give up neglecting sleep in favour of my art, at last, before I completely lost my mind. I eventually did fall asleep after a while, but it didn't last long. I was forcefully woken up by what sounded like a fog horn. I sat up in my bed, terrified, “Ya know, I’m starting to think that it isn’t mice.” I said out loud to myself before exhaustion took over me once again. I was woken up again. This time by the sound of something heavy hitting the floor. I sprang up in my bed again and switched the lights on. My eyes were drawn to my almost finished self sculpture. It was now headless. The wires that were inside the sculpture, acting like a skeleton were sticking out of the top of the neck where the head used to be. They looked like they had been chewed through by an animal. Statue me’s head was on its side on the floor, looking at me face to face. I looked into its hazel eyes, there was a crack running through its left pupil and iris. The head was scalped. Shards of black clay, that was the sculptures hair was scattered all over the carpet.

I almost broke down crying at the sight of it. I then noticed her, the doll stood at the foot of my bed, facing me. She had a still poker face, but it felt like she was mocking me. I garnered the courage to speak up.

“You broke it, didn’t you?!” I sounded  small, like a frightened child. The doll remained stationary and gave no response.

“Why did you do it? That’s so mean.” I realised how petulant I sounded but I was trying to keep my voice from trembling. Yet again, no response. The doll just stared at me with its dead eyes. She was really pissing me off at this point and I lost it and screamed at her.

“Why are you doing this to me?! What are you doing in the vents?!” I was still shaking, but this time it was a blend of both fear and anger. I tried my best to maintain a straight face. The doll and I stared at each other down like we were in a duel, waiting to see who will draw their pistol first. Neither of us made a move.

“What am I doing?” I thought, letting the ridiculousness of the situation sink in. I looked away from the doll and hung my head for a split second. When I did, I felt something being thrown at my forehead. The projectile landed on my lap and I saw it clearly. The doll threw a balled up sock at me.

“You piece of…!” I stopped myself mid-sentence by biting my lip. I snatched the doll up and ripped it’s arms off with my bare hands. Her face remained expressionless, so I pulled off her head and crushed it. I then pulled her wool hear out of her dented metal scalp, and tore her fabric dress into scraps of rag. I bunched up her remains into a ball and tossed it in the trash, leaving my apartment for the first time in almost a week.

 I got back inside and collapsed to my knees in front of my wrecked sculpture and cried. I tried to calm myself down but I couldn’t hold back. All of my anger, fear, misery, got the better of me and what made it all worse was the fact that I was so tired! Two solid streams of tears flowed down my cheeks and I started cradling the severed head of statue me. I finished sobbing and sat at the edge of my bed. I told myself that I could repair the sculpture another time, but for now all I wanted to do was chill. I was too afraid to go back to sleep. I planned on sitting in my well lit bedroom and waiting for morning to come. It’s too bad that that didn’t happen.

I woke up lying across my bed on top of the covers. I was blinded by the light and I could hear a now familiar and horrifying metallic scratching. I looked at the floor and saw the doll standing before me, fully intact as if she never been damaged at all. She stood next to the sculpture of me. She had broken off both of the sculptures arms and the head was so crushed if was practically powder. “Die!” I roared, chucking my phone at the doll. I missed. I finally saw the doll move, it was lightning fast but moved as if it was on the verge of breaking to pieces. It preformed a strange side flip and my phone passed right by it. She then hissed at me and sprinted away. I didn’t see where she went.

After that night she didn’t leave. I could hear scurrying around the vents every night from then onwards. She would laugh at me and make sure that I never got a wink of sleep. She mostly hid herself. Only letting me see her so that she can force me to watch her destroy all my art. She loved when I was afraid and crying, she was having way too much fun making me her pet. She wouldn’t even let me leave my apartment and she snapped my phone in half. I was eventually rescued after a few weeks of this torment.

I heard a bang at my front door,

“Marian, dear, open up! you’re scaring me!” Said a female voice.

I was so relieved that Sasha had come for me, but I didn’t even have the energy to give a verbal reply let alone answer the door.

“Marian, you’re class said that they haven’t seen you in a month and you haven’t answered the phone for much longer than that. Let me in, I’m worried about you!” Said Sasha.

After an hour the police broke my door down and they and Sasha saw me lying on the floor. I was thin, pale, bony, dehydrated and babbling incoherently to myself. “What happen!?” Screamed Sasha. I really wanted to have the mental capacity to form a response, but couldn’t.

FIN

[openlockswhoeverknocks]

McKittrick May/June Highlights

Well then, I didn’t think I’d return to the Mckittrick so soon after my trip in April. I wasn’t meant to go back until late July for my birthday but every once in a while, fate has a different idea than yours and you have to change your plans. It’s taken me longer than usual to sit down and do my highlights but here they go in no particular order.  I have a feeling this is going to be long but enjoy!

- Being greeted with such warmth by Maximilian and Hazel on my first show back and feeling like I’d never left. 

- Wandering down to the high street at reset after spending the start of the show up on 5th and seeing Mallory’s wirlwind Hecate causing havoc. 

- The beautiful combination that is Molly’s Nurse and Virginia’s Matron. They feed off each other’s mood and energy so well. 

- Seeing Virginia’s Matron in the hut on my first show back and smiling from ear to ear because for a good while she would always be in the hut on my first day back. 

- Ryan’s sexy witch running and dancing around like the whole building is her playground and the huge contrast from that to her Rep Bar solo where she is in complete distress and broken.

- Erin’s cool and collected Hecate and her sly side looks and smiles to her accomplices. 

- EJB’s Porter and how hard he tries to keep his game face on but ultimately fails.

- Bickering with a couple of the Men in Bar all the time. All. The. Time.

- A certain Man in Bar doing his pre-lift speech saying “From now on, there will be no more talking... Though I know it will be difficult for some of you” and giving me a pointed look across the room. I gasped in complete and genuine outrage at that. 

- Ida’s Lady Macbeth and her cold ruthlessness. She exudes power and control more than any other Lady Macbeth I’ve seen. Oh and her dancing. INCREDIBLE.

- Ida’s Macbeth mad walk down the high street.  I could watch it every loop, every night. 

- Matron having no letters to fold down on third and having to somehow occupy her time while Nurse meticulously folded a single towel for ages. 

- Jenna’s sexy witch and her shameless flirting with everyone. So good. 

- My absolute dream pairing of Ida’s Nurse and Virginia’s Matron happening again and it being everything I ever wanted and expected. The dynamic between the two of them was brilliant. 

- Ida’s super efficient and professional Nurse only ever showing small signs of weakness when caught unawares. 

- Kacie’s calm and relatively collected Nurse and the way she seemed more aware of the white masks around her than other Nurses seem to be. 

- Virginia’s Hecate and the terrifying glares she gave people if they stepped on her dress.

- Virginia’s Hecate directing the rave with such glee and power that I wanted to be her for a minute or two.  - Matron looking genuinely worried at the blood on my hand during the 1:1 and eventually realising it wasn’t real blood. 

- Adam’s Taxi having the perfect combination of creepy, angry and sometimes even funny.

- Adam’s Taxi offering a sweet to one of the bird skeletons at the beginning of the loop and then moving the sweet to give it to the turkey later on since the bird didn’t eat it. 

- Adam’s Taxi taking drawing out a piece of skeleton or whatnot and then talking to said piece of skeleton and showing it its portrait before pinning it on the wall.

- Adam’s Taxi going to town destroying the third floor cemetery with such satisfaction and malice.

- And finally, in the Adam Taxi section, seeing the 5th floor solo for the first time ever!

- Tim’s neurotic Porter wanting to be things just so. He really did not like the dangly light switches on the green lamps moving around. 

- Tim Porter’s extreme sadness only really showing in the 1:1, making it that much more intense.

- The night when Boy Witch became Macduff, Porter became Boy Witch and a different Porter appeared. 

- The night when Banquo was pretty much AWOL and only ever appeared for the Ballroom and Banquet scenes. 

- Camara’s beautifully sad matron and how resigned she is to her fate. 

- Tina’s Matron being terrified of the thunder and being constantly in motion because of her anxiety. 

- Seeing Evelyn Grey as Woman in Bar for a show and forgetting how good she is at making everything sound dirty. 

- Delivering notes left, right and centre.

- Going up to 5th to check who was in the hut and seeing Mallory in there. Spending a whole hour with her and relishing every moment after not having seen her in the role for over a year. 

- the PIB being disappointed if I showed up in Manderley without a candy delivery. 

- Mallory’s Matron doing less 1:1s and constantly doing something interesting in the hut which made it super hard to leave her. 

- Getting grabbed on the stairs by Hecate for a walkdown after having spent a whole loop with her earlier on in the show. 

- Jenna’s Bald witch and her great combination of sheer power and charm. She’s added so many little touches that make the role unique to her. 

- Wanting to spend every minute of the show with Molly’s Bald but being sensible and just doing the standard loop.

- The Bald Witch Ballroom solo. I could genuinely watch that on repeat for a whole show. 

- Finally meeting and talking properly with Lola and having my cards read by her.

- Jenna’s wonderfully weird and intense Danvers. I’d missed her so much in that role.

- Lindsey’s gorgeous Lady Macduff. I haven’t been as touched by a Lady Macduff’s performance in a good while. She’s so sad and innocent and her dancing was out of this world. 

- Ryan’s Lady Macbeth making an appearance and seeing how much she’s improved and made the role her own. She has a constant vulnerability that makes her so much more human and easier to relate to. 

- The way Ryan just gives 1000% in everything she does and being constantly in awe of her and her talent. Her dancing as Lady Macbeth was incredible. Especially as she starts to become unhinged and she let her body do all the story telling. 

- Virginia’s Hecate raising eyebrows at audience during the rave as if saying “you got a problem with any of this?”

- Being whisked away to the 6th floor in the middle of a Nurse loop after I tried i be clever and take a shortcut.

- Molly’s Nurse getting up to so many wonderfully weird things up on 5th. I never knew what I’d find her doing when I got up there.

- Andrea’s childlike Nurse and finding her trying to pick up a peg with her foot and looking so very satisfied with herself when she managed it. 

- Ginger’s matron going from strange and playful to grave and sad in the space of a few minutes. 

- Kit and Calloway causing havoc in Manderley. 

- Finding out Calloway’s super power and him demonstrating it. 

- Somehow keeping up a conversation with Calloway and Hazel for a whole happy hour. 

- The way Ruth portrayed Agnes with a lovely innocence I haven’t seen in a while, and the way she seemed resigned to keep a game face on in public and not show any vulnerability if she could help it. 

- The way Ruth’s agnes puckered her nose when smelling the drink Speakeasy offered her and her reaction after drinking it. 

- Ruth’s Bald Witch Ballroom solo and the way the power built and built as the solo went on. 

- The way Virginia’s matron always plays off and matches the vibe of whoever her Nurse is and the way she always, ALWAYS changes things up slightly depending on her Matron’s mood, the audience and the general circumstances.

- The night we had Cordelia, Kit and Colette in Manderley. 

- Having my cards read by Kit and Colette joining in on the reading and then Cordelia joining in too because she felt left out. 

- Kacie’s seemingly more gentle and flirty Bald Witch showing her power through her dancing.

- Spending so long talking to the lovely Lola that I missed a whole chunk of the show and never made it back in on my last show but it was wonderful. 

- Evelyn Grey’s reactions to my really bad jokes. 

- Washing my hair and being quite happy with what it was doing despite the humidity only to have Lady Macbeth smear it with blood during the show. 

- Accepting the fact I cannot hide and will be recognised no matter where I stand. 

- Feeling overwhelmed by everyone’s kindness in the hotel and the way the McKittrick seems to know exactly what you need from a show before you know what you need. 

This is way too long now so I apologise and well done for getting this far if you read it all. As usual, feel free to ask for more specific details if you want to and chip in with opinions etc too. 

 I always enjoy writing these because they bring back so many vivid memories and I love sharing my love for this strange and wonderful show. I hope you all enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. 

[meshugana1]

The sexual tourettes one was my favorite. So hot. A shy girl and a very not-shy prostitute find their personalities are slowly swapping

You got it buddy!

   Saveta sat behind her counter and thumbed through a book, dying for a customer to come into her shop. She never understood why she couldn’t drum up more business, she’d been at this for over a hundred years so you’d think she would’ve figured it out by now. She sighed and her heavy breasts stretched the top of her dress and she rested her chin in her palm. She hated reading but she needed to do more of it, but she never felt like she understood the subtext or anything like that. Just then she heard her bell ring and she looked up at the door with an excited smile.

   A young woman entered the shop this time. She stepped gingerly and avoided the worn out section of the floor, it was easy for her since her eyes never left the ground. She styled her hair long and it helped to obscure her face quite a bit but Saveta could she wore glasses and was likely much prettier than she thought she was. She wore a grey sweater thick enough that it gave no indication of her body shape. Coupled with demure posture she gave nothing away about herself at all. “Hello,” Saveta said, “welcome to Saveta’s curio shop! I’m the owner so if you need anything just let me know.” The girl nodded and gave a cursory glance to every shelf she passed.

   After about fifteen minutes she balled her fists and walked up to Saveta. “Um…excuse me, but…do you maybe have like…a…necklace or…something? It’s ok if you don’t.” She never once made eye contact and Saveta thought she was so cute she almost started petting her. “As a matter of fact I do,” she said, “Just wait right there Alice and I’ll be back in a minute.” After that, she left behind a curtain into a back room. ‘How did she know my name?’ Alice thought. She was internally debating whether to leave or not. Jewelry was so expensive though and maybe this place was a little cheaper. She just wanted to break out of her shell a little and some nice jewelry might be a conversation starter.

   Saveta came out of the backroom a second later holding a small box. “I think this particular item will suit you nicely.” She opened the box and pulled out a solid gold chain with a yin-yang symbol attached to it. Alice didn’t understand but her eyes were immediately drawn to it and it was a struggle to look away. “This is a nice little item, it was made in the—” Alice reached up and snatched the necklace from the woman’s hands and wrapped it around her neck. “I’ll take it,” she said taken aback by her boldness. The transaction was simple after that, Alice was shocked that this woman only wanted thirty dollars for it but didn’t ask questions. Saveta walked the girl out and reminded her to come back again soon. When she was out of sight the smile fell from her face and she cursed herself, she absolutely hated that she could only sell an item for whatever the person could afford. Whoever thought up that stupid rule? But she went back to her shop and her mind wandered to that shy girl. ‘She’ll be fine, all the necklace does is draw people to it. As long as she doesn’t give the other half away nothing would go wrong,’ she thought.

   Alice was walking back toward her usual haunts when she slammed into a woman coming from the other direction. “What the hell you stupid bitch! Watch where the fuck you’re going!” The woman yelling at her was tall and had dyed platinum blonde hair. She stood on seven-inch heels and her skirt and tube top were barely preserving any what little modesty this woman had left. She removed a new cigarette from her purse and took a long drag from it. “What’s wrong? You looking to score little lady? It’s all yours for a hundred dollars a pop, haha!” she said accentuating her curves with her hands. Alice turned crimson and sat up as quickly as possible and left, walking as briskly as she could. Crystal hated girls like her, stuck up and scared of her own shadow. All the little brat needs it a pipe to suck on and she’d be fine.

   She was about to move along and look for a John when she spotted a bit of gold on the ground. She picked up the simple chain and saw a cute looking symbol on it. It kinda looked like a white boob with a black nipple, without a second thought she wrapped the chain around her neck and found she liked the way it nestled into her cleavage. She looked over her shoulder to make sure that mousy bitch wasn’t coming to claim it and went to look for someone to milk her money from, neither one of the women noticed that their halves of the necklace took on a subtle glow.

   Alice continued to walk to her favorite hang out at the Tardis bookstore, it was a Tuesday so she was excited to see what new books had released today. It hardly seemed abnormal, but for some reason, Alice had decided to wear her hair back. She walked in and immediately said hello to the manager Donald. Donald had worked at this store for six years and he had seen Alice come in at least three times a week every week and she had never once said hello to him, he absentmindedly waved to her. Alice was feeling an uncharacteristic skip in her step as she perused the shelves for anything that tickled her fancy. It was then that she spotted Tim in the corner checking out the new Thor comics, typical that now Thor is a chick he’s suddenly interested.

   She had a thought then, she spent all her money on the necklace but there were quite a few books she wanted that came out today, but Tim always had plenty of scratch with him. She turned her back to him and took off her sweater, releasing her full DD-cups that stretched the fabric of her shirt. It was funny, she always hated wearing revealing clothes before, she just didn’t like the idea of being objectified but now she didn’t seem to mind the idea at all. She sauntered over to Tim holding her little stack and pressed her breasts into his back, “Hey Timmy, you liking your book there?” Tim spun around and was amazed to see Alice dressed like she was, he had never seen her in anything except her sweater but now that he could see her incredible tits he felt his blood rush around his groin. “Um…yeah, it’s uh, its ok. How are you?” Tim waffled. “I’m ok, I guess,” Alice said, her arms clasped behind her as she rotated her chest back and forth for him, “I’m just a little down that I don’t have the money to buy these books here today…”

   “R…really? I mean…I could buy them for you, ya know. If that’s ok?” “I don’t know, I’m not sure I could take advantage of you like that Timmy.” “It’s no problem, really. I was thinking of getting some of those too. Who knows? Maybe I could come over and borrow them sometime? Tim said, sweating bullets and too caught up in Alice’s tits to realize he’s just about to pop a hole in his jeans. “Maybe, or you could just come over tonight and let me suck your big cock as a thank you?” Alice had a slight blush on her cheeks, she was so happy she found the courage to be so forward with someone. Tim seemed to lose his balance for a second when she said that and she looked down and saw a small wet patch on the front of his khaki pants. “Y…ye…yeah. That’d be uh cool. I’ll just go and pay for these.” He said avoiding eye contact and grabbing her things for her. She followed him to the register and watched as Donald rang him up. She was about to leave with her ill-gotten gains when she had another idea. She turned around and walked over to Donald and said: “Hey Don, I think I’ve got a fun idea for a job you could give me.”

   Crystal felt off ever since that mousy bitch bumped into her. She had no idea how to explain it, she felt like she was showing way, way too much skin and she just felt so anxious. She remembered ladies she read about in books that hooked and she didn’t recall them having to show so much. She liked it when she left the house this morning so why did it bother her now. Her frustration was manifesting itself as fidgeting and she refused to stop much to the annoyance of the other girls. Her hands were alternating between trying to cover her big fake breasts or her bottom and especially her crotch. What made her pick a skirt that was so small? Every single person who walked by took a look at her. Before she enjoyed it but now it was like she could hear every single person's judgments of her. ‘What a slut’, ‘bet she’s cheap’, those clothes are gross’, ‘she’s not pretty enough to be out here’, all of these were playing on repeat in the poor girl's mind as the potential business pasted her by and she thanked God she never got picked. It reminded her of high school when she prayed that the teacher wouldn’t call on her to give the presentation that she never did.

   But a moment before she could no longer take it and left, a car pulled up beside her and a man rolled down the window. “Evening, are you…uh, are you free tonight?” Crystal froze, she was paralyzed with anxiety but reflex kicked in and she shakily nodded her head. He looked at her and asked, “Is this your first time working?” Crystal didn’t want to tell him that she was a pro who had the yips or whatever was going on so she just went with it and continued to nod her head. “Ha, me too. So, would you like to come in?” Crystal said nothing and just operated on autopilot as she walked like a zombie around to the other side of the man’s car. Her eyes never strayed from facing forward as she sat next to him. He whole body trembled and she tried will herself to discuss her fee, but no words at all seemed to come from her. “Are you nervous?” He said, his voice was filled with genuine concern. “My name is Michael, what’s yours?” Crystal tried to swallow her anxiety as best she could and she managed to weakly croak out “C…c…crystal.”

   Michael made no move to touch the nervous woman, he wasn’t even sure what to do himself. He had never paid for sex before but the loneliness had gotten to him and desperate times and all that. The humanitarian in him though compelled him to help this poor girl. “You know, I don’t really think I need…uh, your services right now. But how about I take you to dinner? My treat of course.” Crystal had never met a John that was so nice, she couldn’t take advantage but she was still too nervous to speak and before she could find the words they were off to a really nice street side restaurant.

Three months later…

   Crystal walked down the street in her thick fleece coat and her skirt fell to about halfway down her calfs. She was still way too nervous to make eye contact with anyone and bumped into a few people, but thanks to her new boyfriend Michael she was making a lot of progress. She was very happy he liked her but all the self-doubt and insecurity never seemed to leave her. She was walking past a bookshop when a wall of people blocked her path. The bookstore was overcrowded and a line was trying to form on the street. She was too timid to try and make her way through so she merely waited until an opening was made. She looked into the store and saw what all the fuss was about. There was one of those cosplay girls in there and it looked like she was signing autographs or posing for pictures or something.

   She looked almost familiar but her costume mad it had to tell. She wore a blood red singlet and some kind of armor on her arms and legs. The singlet was really tight and it made her boobs look really huge and it looked like it ran all the way in between her butt cheeks, making her look almost naked with how flushed it was to her skin. She turned to face the window and Crystal turned red as she saw the incredibly obvious camel toe the girl had. Space had finally opened for her and she darted past the crowd. She remembered when she wore revealing clothes like that without crying, she wished she was as confident as that girl.

The end. Hope Y'all like it!

[lovely-necromancy]

A Cure for Insomnia CH 14

Somehow someway you had ended up spending the night in Toby's room. What had started out as sitting next to him turned into laying down next to him. And after a while of no talking or movement, just the steady sounds of breathing. You more or less closed you eyes for a minute.

Before you knew it you were waking up to sun in your face. And found a blanket haphazardly thrown onto you. Though honestly you probably just moved a lot in your sleep. A quick glance around the room tells you you're alone and by the looks of it have been for a little while now. Weirdly there doesn't seem to be a clock in the room and when you go to check your phone the battery is dead.

'Oh God what time is it?' you worry as you gather yourself to leave the room in search of a clock.

Even though you have the strongest suspicion that you're already late for work. Fuck Nate is gonna kill you. You hope you don't get fired for this. That doesn't really seem like the Cowell way but you really don't want to risk it. No where else in town would pay the bills plus give extra cash for doing jack shit.

Just as you closed the door behind you you see Toby and Connor walking up the corridor. Toby has two bowls in hand and his steps falter a bit when he sees you.

“Shit did I wake you up?”

You can see the veins in his arms as he tenses, poor guy must have a tic coming on. You hold your hands out to give him the option of handing them over so he can relax. With no hesitation on his end he does just that.

“No? I don't think so, I just woke up. What time is it?”

Toby's hands jolt in place. A large tremor of movement, thankfully you took the bowls from him so he wouldn't have splashed...cereal? Your confusion must have shown because you get a nervous laugh in response.

“It's like eight twenty or something.” seeing you visibly deflate he adds, “Barry told me to tell you you're excused from work today.” He took a bowl back from you and placed a hand at the small of your back to push you back towards his room. Apparently done with having a conversation in the hallway and letting your breakfast get soggy.

“Barclay.” you remind him, your efforts award you a shrug, “and are you serious? Because making me late for work wouldn't be very funny.”

He plops on his bed and a bit of milk sloshes out of the bowl dropping on to the sheets. In the back of your mind you think about how Barclay more than likely is going to ban Toby from the lodge for anything other than an emergency. At least if he ruins the bed by dropping food all over it...actually you're pretty sure Jake's mentioned there being a rule about eating in the rooms.

“I'm serious, you can go ask him yourself.” his face flushes as he shovels a spoonful of Captain Crunch into his mouth, “twey shed somfingu bot ah ahpawawgee for da kid”

You give Toby a sneer as you process what he just said. Even normally your brain didn't always process what was said to you properly and Toby speaking with a full mouth certainly didn't help in any case. But you can kind of gleam a bit more context from his red cheeks that your spontaneous three day weekend is thanks in part to Jo hanging out with you yesterday.

Really you didn't mind that she hung out with you. But you would accept the apologetic day off for her attempting to give you a love life. You aren't one of her gossip stories nor do you wish to be.

“First, gross dude. Second, I'll take it.”

He snorts, “Watching me chew through the hole in my face is ne-neat but me talking with my mouth full is where you draw the line?”

“Honestly I never even thought of that.”

You can't help but let out a chuckle at how dumb that must have made you look. Geez you were such a dork sometimes. On the other hand it seems like that must have been the funniest thing Toby's heard in a while as he roars with laughter. Soon your chuckles turn into full blown laughter from Toby's contagious mirth.

“I'll get out of your hair after I finish eating.” you finally say when the two of you calm.

“...you don't have to do that. I-i thought we cou-cou-could hang out?” he says sheepishly.

Toby tends to stutter when he's nervous you notice. Maybe this was to be expected you kind of did solidify that you both wanted to be friends. Of course that would mean opening up to hanging out together on purpose more often.

“I'd like that! Did you have something in mind?”

The room goes quite, well more accurately Toby goes quite as you finish your cereal. Looks like someone hadn't thought this far ahead. At least you aren't the only dork in this room or this friendship for that matter.

Toby's dark eyes scan around the room, not really looking for something while he thinks of something you could do today. Instead of just staring at him like a creep you turn your attention to the rottweiler looking at you with hopeful eyes. Connor's eyes briefly moving towards your bowl where a tiny bit of milk sits and then back at your face. Licking his chops as he looks you dead in the eyes.

Having a pretty good idea of what he wants you look for Toby's bowl. If it was on the ground that'd be a good indication that Connor's allowed a bit of cereal milk if it was on the bed well then you'd still have your answer.  And sure enough right next to Connor's butt is an empty bowl.

Yup, Barclay is so gonna ban Toby from the lodge.

Throwing out any thoughts of the lecture you'd get if Barclay were to find out you let a dog eat from his bowls you place the bowl in front of Connor. Who sits in his position and won't stop making eye contact with the bowl. Tail going a mile a minute as he stares at his prize in anticipation. God he really is the best boy in the whole world.

“Thank you Connor.” you whisper to the dog before he attacks the bowl.

As the pup rips into the left over cereal milk, which wasn't even that much, you can't keep yourself from flapping your hands right by your chest. The fast movement seems to catch Toby's attention and brings him out of wracking his brain for ideas. Giving you a moment to just enjoy the happy stim he just watches. It isn't until Connor has bounded over to you letting you pet him as a 'thank you' for giving him a treat, that Toby speaks up.

“Is there...what's there to do here?”

Looking at Toby as you shake Connor's ears around, you don't immediately say anything. Honestly thinking of just what the two of you could do in this small town. Something that wouldn't prove to be too distracting and maybe give the two of you a chance to get to know each other better. Something without too many interruptions or things to get you off topic.

“Wanna go get a slushy?”

Toby's brown eyes cut as he stares at you unimpressed.

“I kno-rrow that we're in a small town but, 's not that small.”

“Oh no it's actually smaller.”

He rolls his eyes with a huff ready to bite in with a snarky remark no doubt until he catches your eyes and the serious expression. He stares at you, eyes darting across your face looking for a sign that you're joking.

Thankfully you aren't one to leave a friend in the dark.

“Tobias, the gas station Tim works at is the only one for this town.”

“That can't be right, it's not even in town. What about...” once again Toby's eyes shift as he tries to think of any other gas stations within Kepler.

When he comes to the conclusion that you are indeed not fucking with him and Kepler does just have the one gas station his shoulders slump. Almost like he's in shock that he hadn't caught that sooner. You can feel the tinkling sensation of a tic coming up, at the base of your neck. Timing it mentally as you watch Toby go through the stages of grief you miscalculate and ruin your tic.

Head jolting into your right shoulder rather than jerking above it. Letting out a small “fuck” at the fact that you're about to be in an uncomfortable sensation, not totally unlike when you chase off a sneeze but still do need to sneeze. You feel the tic at the back of your head but know it won't be going away anytime soon and all thanks to your hubris.

Looking back at Toby you find he's moved on from the single gas station fact and is looking at you mildly amused. Briefly you wonder if he's ever chased off a tic and felt the uncomfortable sensation you're now dealing with. That leads you to ponder if he's ever even felt the anticipation of nerves before a coming tic. It's not really a painful sensation but discomfort sometimes goes in hand with pain so maybe CIPA affects that feeling too. You'll have to ask, but first you have to shut his stupid face up.

“Shut it.”

“Didn't say anything.” he smirks.

His smiles are really growing on you. They feel special and very genuine despite the awkward nature of his facial movements.

“Hey wait, the mini mart doesn't even have a slushy machine.” he says as the realization finally sets in.

“Yea we have to drive to another town for one. So far Franklin has the best slushies but it's like two hours away.”

You lean your weight back onto your hands watching as Toby's wide eyes stare at you in disbelief. Actually in this light you really can't tell if Toby's eyes are blown wide or in their normal state. Judging from the way his lips curl over his teeth you figure they must be as he stares stunned by something you've said.

“Do you seriously drive two hours for a slushy?” the disbelief in his voice is thick, but not thick enough to cover the thinnest hint of amusement. Maybe even pity.

“Not all the time, sometimes its only like thirty. One night I actually drove five hours without realizing it...though to be fair I did get lost.”

Lost in your thoughts on that particular night some how you'd ended up in Point Pleasant. Instead of a slushy you'd gotten a Mothman themed iced coffee. A nice trip over all but one you didn't want to go on at the moment.

Coming back to the present in time to catch Toby flopping back on the mattress his curls bouncing up over his face as he did so. He let's out an exaggerated groan.

“Still, Brian's got the car today.”

Pfft that's not an issue.

“I have a car.” you say plainly.

That must not be the issue because Toby raises himself onto his elbows to look at your lax form on the carpet. Leaning back on your hands with Connor splayed across your lap looking ready for a nap. Toby opens his mouth to say something before shutting it and looking off to the side. He seems to collect himself quickly but not enough to look at you.

“Uh..I, that's not really the...” well maybe he hadn't collected himself that much.

Brow furrowing as you squint at the man before you. The two of you don't know a lot about each other but from what you've noticed Toby has some hang ups about drivers and driving. Although he's let you drive him home once that doesn't mean he was comfortable with it or wanted a repeat performance. And while you don't consider yourself a bad driver you'll spare Toby the difficulty of admitting he isn't comfortable with you driving.

“You can drive.” dark brown eyes are on you the instant the words spill from your lips, “You've driven my car before. Plus I don't mind I like not driving.”

His eyes dart from you to Connor and back up into your face. Even though they're darting slightly you know he isn't such evaluating your expression. He's thinking and weighing his options.

“You sure?”

And with no hesitation at all, “Absolutely, you've driven it before.”

Though he hadn't been thinking of that particular issue with being given the choice of driving your car. It did bring up another insecurity before hastily stomping it into the ground. He has driven your car, albeit once, before and you are giving him explicit consent to drive it again. Regardless of his tourette's, Toby honestly can't believe you have such blind faith in a person you've just befriended. Then again that's friendship isn't it.

“Ok then...let's go?”

After a nod from you Toby grabs Connor's gear to get him ready for the drive. Meanwhile you take the dishes back downstairs to the kitchen, letting Toby know you'd meet him by the door. Unsurprisingly Barclay is in the kitchen when you get down there to place the bowls into the sink.

Seeing as it's just the bowls and spoons in the sink you decide you can wash them before placing them in the sanitizer rack.

“Mornin'.”

“Good morning.”

“Basket's on the table.”

“Thanks.”

A quiet settles over you two and you can feel Barclay's brown eyes trail towards your form every few seconds. Finishing the dishes you turn, leaning your butt onto the counter, to face the lumbering man.

“Can I help you?” you raise a brow at him. Clearly he had something more he wanted to say.

“I, I just thought we were closer than that.” he sighs.

Okay what now? Your confusion goes ignored as he continues to speak.

“Seriously YN, you didn't need to sneak away last night if you wanted to spend the night here, and with your boyfriend. I wouldn't have judged.”

“My who? Tobais? He's a friend!” you whisper scream in case Toby is near by. God could at least save one of you this embarrassment.

“Really YN? From the things I'm hearin' you two are a bit more than friends.”

“Ok seriously where are you getting your info from? We haven't done anything. Like just YESTERDAY we agreed we were friends. We've known each other maybe a month?!”

“See that's why this is confusing, you don't touch just anyone. And suddenly you're handsy with some new kid.” Barclay had the decency to start whisper screaming with you. He's gesturing vaguely towards the rest of the lodge before bringing his hands before him and flailing them away. As if to say 'what am I supposed to do with this now?'

“He's neurodivergent!” you say bringing your palms up in front of you.

“So are Jake and Aubrey.”

“And I high five Jake so much.” throwing your arms outward to indicate how much you two high five. “Plus he gets a hug nearly every time I see him.” hands brought back to emphasis this point.

Barclay thinks on that for a bit, “Point taken,” he stands from his hunched position and crosses his arms over his chest, “so y'all aren't dating? Nothin' happened last night?”

“No and no.”

“Don't have to deep clean the sheets today.”

“Gross and no.” best keep the milk droplets out of this, you'd really like to leave the kitchen sooner rather than later. Preferably with no lecture about hygiene and the importance of respecting other's property.

Barclay looks down at you scanning your face for something you aren't quite sure of. But you have a feeling he's treating you like a child for a very specific reason.

“I'm not a virgin.” you deadpan as the man before starts to sputter.

His eyes wide with disbelief. So he really thought you were a virgin this whole time? You wonder who else thought this, you hoped they wouldn't try to confront you about your nonexistent relationship.

You'll just never understand why people assume you're a virgin and why they try their hardest to butt into your life when they think that way. This topic tends to put you in a sour mood and you can already feel it on your face. It's disgusting how people can't mind their business about baseless assumptions.

“Jeez sorry YN,” he does look it as he rubs the back of his neck, “it's just you've never shown an interest and I guess we all got swept up in the possibility of seeing you happy.”

“I am happy?”

“I mean in a relationship, happy in a romantic relationship.” He claps his hands gently on your shoulders. A touch you've gotten used too, had you not wanted it you would've taken a step back.

“Kirby's not in a relationship.” you point out.

“Kirby's gross, and you're adorable.” he chuckles at your glare, “a-dor-a-ble.”

“I will bite you.” he lets go of you with a laugh.

“We're just...trying to keep you safe.” he sighs, and though you don't understand what any of their weirdness has to do with “keeping you safe” you nod. Just to get this over with faster.

“Can I leave now? Tobais and I were gonna get slushies.” he didn't need to know your plans but you didn't want him assuming you two were sneaking off for a date.

“Yea yea, sorry for keeping you.” he leans against the counter as you grab your basket and head out of the kitchen and towards the main door.

Toby and Connor were already waiting for you. If the swaying of his weight was anything to go by they'd been waiting for you for a bit. Seeing you coming his subconscious movement stops and he opens the door. Keeping it open for you.  You lead him over to your Soul as you look through the basket for the keys.

“Keys?” he questions as you pat your pockets.

Toby stops walking with you as you begin to panic. You've lost your keys. Before you voice that though you look through the basket once more, placing it on the hood of your car so you can use both hands to check. His eyes follow you and are caught by a gentle swaying.

“You are a serial killer's wet dream.”

He opens your passenger side door and comes out holding your keys that had been in the ignition. If the blank look he gives you is anything to go by he's not impressed.

“I,I,I was in a hurry!” you say flustered that you did something so stupid. His expression doesn't change.

“Could you pop the trunk please?” you ask not looking in his direction.

The click of the lock is all you need to hear before you rush around him to place the basket in the back. As you do you catch sight of the deer skull still in your trunk. With everything going on you hadn't been to see Madeleine for a mount for the guy. You'll have to remember to stop by her shop this week.

Toby had already gotten Connor situated in the back by the time you sat down in the passengers seat. After buckling in and plugging your phone in to charge you stare ahead of you waiting for Toby to start driving. When you look over at him you see he's staring right back at you with a brow raised.

“Yes?”

“Where are we going?”

Yes the key detail of any road trip, the driver needs to know the destination. Unfortunately for you and Toby you've forgotten to tell him one crucial detail. You drive with no sense of direction. And you relay this to Toby. He looks seconds away from getting out of the car and claiming he's never seen you before much less ever been friends with you.

He takes a deep breath and collects himself.

“Y'know what Brian's worse with directions.” he says more to himself than to you.

He calmly puts the car in gear and heads off to town. No input from Connor, you may have chosen a really good day for this drive. Your phone hits one percent as you pass Resort Row. You know the Hornet's Nest is coming up and that intersection leads to the interstate despite not having legible signs.

“Hey when you get to the Hornet's Nest swing right then drive straight, we'll end up on route 3 onto the interstate.”

“Hornets' nest?”

“It's a skate/stunt park. You'll see it after we get away from the mountain.”

Just as you said Toby saw the Hornet's Nest as he turned onto the road leaving the mountain. By the time you were on route 3 your phone had charged up to seven percent. Enough to turn it on and put on a playlist. You put on one of your sea shanty and folk punk combos.

Toby hasn't even let the song get thirty seconds under way. “No vetoed, we are not listening to sea shanties.”

So he does have music preferences, fair enough. You switch to a playlist with a more chilled electric vibe that has a few oldies tossed into the mix. Toby hasn't heard this playlist before and you are determined to learn his music tastes today.

“Wait wait wait, so you'll listen to folk punk but not sea shanties?”

“How are those even related?”

“They are literally the same thing.”

The two of you continue to bicker back and forth about how similar, or different, shanties and folk punk are. Occasionally it's broken when you read a sign, noticing Toby's horrible squinting, to see if you're on the right route to...well you don't know the destination Toby's been ignoring most of the exits for the past forty minutes though you're sure you two could find a gas station with a slushy machine at any one of the surrounding towns.

You don't mind though you're really enjoying the ride. The soft sounds of the car cutting through the wind at seventy three miles an hour. And the dull hum from the engine falling into the background as They Might Be Giants plays softly through the radio. With a majority of his focus being directed to the road  and the handful of other cars around you, your conversation is limited to topics that don't require much thinking. Really you've just ended up playing twenty questions with the other pulling uno reverse.

Not life altering secrets or deep talks...well until the question was favorite romantic comedy.

“How is Venom a romantic comedy?” Toby laughs after you answer.

“They kiss!” Toby just snorts.

“No Venom in Anne's body kisses Eddie.”

“Yes Venom kissed Eddie. Romance.”

You hear the murmur of 'oh my fucking God' come from Toby as you giggle in your seat. Having been egged on by that simple phrase you continue.

“Eddie is always giving Venom chocolates.”

“Oh yes, sorry, that's very romance.” Toby laughs out rolling his eyes.

“Thank you, I'm glad I could enlighten...” you pause as a sign for the next exit catches your eye. Had you two already driven two hours? Time really does fly when you're having fun. “Hey next exit, Franklin.”

“Thanks got it.” this time he turns on the blinker to get over into the exiting lane.

“What gas station am I looking for?” smart man. He's stopped asking for specific directions and is now asking for a land marker.

“Giant baby.” the car comes to a stop at a red light and Toby takes his eyes off the road to face you.

“...is this...will I just know when I see it.” “When you see it” you say the last part in unison with him nodding solemnly.

To his credit Toby has gone a long way with your weird antics, despite being your official friend for less than a full day. Keeping up with this pattern he doesn't ask anymore questions about this giant baby, keeping his eyes peeled for anything worthy of that title. His valent efforts are rewarded not even ten blocks from the turnpike.

“Is that...”

“Giant baby.” you nod knowing he sees the giant opposum decal in the window of the beat up gas station.

Opening your glove box you remove a spare mask for yourself before offering a sealed in package one for Toby. Who readily takes it after he parks your car in front of the store. Turning to look at you, you can read all the skepticism on his face. It's funny how this is where he questions you, your destination and not like the way over here-or the moment right after you told him you had no sense of direction.

“They have the four divide mega slush.”

“What the hell is that?”

With a coy smile you put on your mask and exit the car waiting at the front for your friend to get his shit together. He doesn't take long to follow you, Connor's lead in hand, into the gas station.

For as dingy and beat up as it looks on the outside it isn't bad once you step inside. Might actually be cleaner than the mini mart in Kelper. Toby glances around taking a mental tally of all the patrons in the store and their positions. He does this a bit. Just hyper aware of everyone when in enclosed spaces.

Dragging him over to the slushy machine after acknowledging the cashier's greeting. Showing him the four divider mega slush cup you demonstrate how it works. Choosing the only three flavors you like and adding a random extra of the three into the forth slot.

The face he makes when you stick the straw in the middle is priceless.

Toby demonstrates how a slushy should be made. Grabbing the single cup and over filling it with cherry flavored ice. He doesn't pick up a straw and you two make your way to the counter.

Since Toby drove here you had no problem paying but he was quicker to get his wallet out and hand the cashier a ten for your slushies. They give him back his change and you two wind up back in the car, taking off your masks.

You take a long sip from you drink.

“I can't believe we drove for two hours for you to just wreck your taste buds.” a playful disdain in his voice.

“Not 'we', you.”

He cuts his eyes at you before shaking his slushy into his open mouth. Guess he couldn't use a straw when he was missing part of his cheek. No suction there.

“So?” you say adding the questioning lilt to your voice.

He shrugs, “It's good.”

“Worth the drive?” He shakes his head.

“Nah - drive made it worth it.”

[letthesleepingdoglie]

The Long Road - 05

Title: Connections

Part: 05 of 12

Rated: T 

Gotham City

April 1 st , 2006

7:35 PM EST

“Pleeeease?” Dick said, doing his best impression of a puppy as he looked up at his father. However, it was a tactic doomed to fail. His father crossed his arms and simply said, “No.”

Dick frowned, crossing his own arms and tapping his foot impatiently as he glared up at his father. “Why not?”

His father sighed, kneeling down so that his head was level with his son’s. “I’ve already told you. It’s too dangerous for someone your age. You need more practice and training.”

“But Dad! Cousin Johnny says Uncle Rick let him do it when he was my age!” Dick said, pointing over at his aforementioned cousin. His dad shot a quick look at his junior namesake before turning back to Dick. “Dick, you’re not ready yet.”

Dick pouted and looked away, unwilling to meet his father’s gaze. His dad placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, giving him a quick shake. “Tell you what. After the show tonight, we can talk to Mom. If she says yes, I’ll start showing you the moves you need to know.”

Johnny smiled as he made his way over to where his little cousin stood, placing a hand on Dick’s head. “Don’t worry about it squirt,” he said, ruffling Dick’s hair. Dick laughed as he tried to escape his cousin’s grasp.  Johnny caught him in a quick hug, bringing his little cousin against his chest.  “You’ll get your chance sooner than you think, squirt.” Dick smiled up at him, his eyes full of adoration.

From across the lot where they were waiting, the rest of the Flying Graysons stood at the back entrance to the big top.  Dick’s mother called over to him. “Dick! We’re up!”

Dick raced over to stand next to his mother, peeking in through the tent flap to gaze at the audience arrayed in the stands. His mother peeked in behind him, whispering to her son. “It’s a full house tonight.”

His father came over, kneeling beside his wife and son. “Just think son. You get to perform in front of all of Gotham tonight. And when it’s time for the finale, you’ll be sitting in the best seat in the house.”

Dick could only smile as his family gathered around him, waiting for their cue to enter.

He watched as Jack Haly, the ringmaster, wound up the audience. There was a rhythm to the way he spoke, drawing in the audience’s attention and building up their anticipation for the act to come.

His mother leaned in close, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “Time to fly, my little Robin.” Dick smiled back.

“And now…” Jack Haly spoke from his elevated position in the center of the big top. He pointed to the entrance with a flourish, “Ladies and Gentlemen…. The Flying Graysons!”

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

July 19 th , 2016

14:59 EST

Barcelona, Spain

“Happy Birthday Tim.” Dick said into his phone, leaning against the entryway of his room. Despite the fact that he was still in pain over Wally’s loss, the smile on his face was genuine. Being a big brother to Tim always made feel just that much better about his life.

Several thousand miles away, in his room at Wayne manor, Tim smiled as he received his adoptive brother’s greeting. “Thanks. I’m glad you called.”

“I wouldn’t miss saying Happy Birthday, self-imposed exile or not.” There was a pregnant pause his Dick’s statement hung in the air. He realized it probably wasn’t the best topic to be bringing up at the moment.

“Bruce throwing you a party?” he asked, trying to fill the silence caused by his faux pas.

“Yeah.”

Dick smiled. While he would be the first to admit their father was not the best at showing his feelings, anyone who knew Bruce well knew that he tried. Every year that he’d lived at Wayne Manor, Bruce and Alfred had planned some great celebrations for him.

It was the small things that showed Bruce cared.

“Cassie coming?”

“No, er,” Tim started. “She still doesn’t know our secret identities.”

Dick nodded as he processed Tim’s words. He knew how difficult it was to have a relationship with someone, romantic or otherwise, when they didn’t know your real name. That hadn’t been much of an issue with Zatanna, since Bruce had allowed him to tell her in the aftermath of her father becoming Dr. Fate, but he still remembered how furious Artemis had been when it finally dawned on her that she’d been going to high school alongside him for months.

“She’s…” Tim trailed off, as if realizing he had revealed something he shouldn’t have.

The part of Dick that lived for embarrassing his little brother, and pretty much all of his friends too, came alive for the first time in months, scenting an opportunity.

“Yes...?” he pressed eagerly.

There was another pause.

“Tiiiim…” he called into the phone in a sing song voice. “What’s Cassie doing for you?”

“We’re going out on a date tomorrow. Barb told her it was my birthday, and she got all excited.” Tim blurted out finally, knowing he had been caught. “Aha!” Dick couldn't resist barking out a laugh. “Does that mean what I think it means? You still got the… package I gave you?”

He heard Tim spluttering, and could practically feel him blushing through the phone.

Dick knew for a fact that Tim had hidden the little silver foil packets in his bedside drawer, one of the few places where Alfred didn’t clean, and therefore didn’t check. He probably shouldn’t have enjoyed ribbing his little brother so much, but it was just too much fun.

Besides, Tim didn’t have to suffer the agony of having “the talk” individually, first with Bruce and then Alfred, like he had. Even now, almost 4 years later, Dick shuddered as he remembered how awkward that particular conversation had been.

“I’m just kidding Tim.” Dick laughed. “It’s you and Cassie. You two are like the sweetest and most innocent couple I know. I know nothing frisky is gonna happen.”

There was a pause as Tim cleared his throat. “So, what are you doing?” He asked in his best conversational tone. Dick recognized that Tim was rather unsubtly trying to change the subject away from his love life, but he didn’t mind.

“Not much,” Dick shrugged. “Just practicing for our performance later tonight. I’ve been rehearsing with a couple other trapeze artists: two brothers named Boston and Cleveland Brand, and Boston’s wife Lorna. Another guy named Raymond, and and a girl named Raya.”

“Boston and Cleveland? You’re kidding me.” Tim laughed. “Why would anyone name their kids that? Do-”

“I already checked, and no, the Brand brothers don’t have a sister named Miami, or another brother named Pittsburgh.” They both laughed.

This time, it was Tim’s turn to break the silence. “Things ok?”

“Alright, I guess.” Dick said. “It usually takes a while to work well with a new trapeze artist. We could use a bit more practice, but it should be fine.”

When Jack had first introduced the three of them, the two Brand brothers had welcomed him cautiously, unsure of what to expect. It had only taken one practice session up on the wires for Dick to prove to them that he knew what he was doing, but performing well solo and performing well as part of a team were two completely different things.

Still, the brothers were willing to give him a chance. Boston in particular watched him closely, trying to get a sense of where his group’s newest member had picked up his skills.

“I meant with you.” Tim clarified.

“Yeah.” Dick sighed. “I don’t know yet. How’s the rest of the Team?”

“They’re good. Connor, Megan and Gar left for Mars in the bio-ship almost a week ago, so they’ll be there soon.  Most of the Team is working on the assignments Aqualad gave them right before you left. Although…” Tim trailed off again, and this time Dick could tell it was more serious.

“Yeah?” he prompted.

“Batgirl’s trying to track you down.”

“You’re kidding me.” Dick said, slumping back against the frame of his door and pinching the bridge of his nose. “Has Bruce said anything??”

“No.” Tim replied.  “She’s been trying to keep it quiet, but I know she’s been checking Zeta tube logs and surveillance reports in her spare time. I saw her talking to Artemis the other day. Your name definitely came up. She’s already approached Aqualad too.”

“Great…” Dick said, deflating slightly as he considered this turn of events. Kaldur wouldn’t give him up, and since M’gann and Connor were currently on Mars, he wouldn’t have to worry about them searching for him. For the moment, anyway.

He wasn’t sure how he felt about Barbara trying to find him. On one hand, he wanted another chance to talk things through with her, since she had been his best friend for years. On the other hand, he wasn’t sure where things stood with her, now that things were over between them.

“You know, if she finds out you’ve been talking to me…” Dick warned.

“Can’t be worse than the blow up I got right after you left.” Tim said. Dick wanted to ask him about it, but Tim continued too quickly for him to ask. “Don’t worry about me, Dick. I can handle Barbara.”

“Famous last words.” Dick snorted. “But thanks.” He let out a sigh of frustration. “I don’t know what I’m doing here Tim. I came out here to be alone.”

“And now?” Tim asked.

“Now I’m just lonely.”

“Well,” Tim said, trying to be supportive. “The past is what makes us us. Starting over from the beginning doesn’t really seem like the worst thing in the world to do. Besides, whenever you’re ready to come back, the Team will be waiting.”

Dick breathed a sigh of relief. Hearing his brother be supportive was unexpectedly reassuring.

“Thanks Tim. I’ll catch you later.” he said, ending the call.

Boston called out to him from the employee entrance to the big top. “Hey Dan, you ready?” It was time for their final practice run of the day before their show that night.

He pocketed his phone. “Yeah. Let’s go.”

———————————————————————————————————-

Dick relished the sensation of flying as he spiraled through the air and caught Boston’s outstretched hands. It had been years since he had felt the simple joy and physical exertion that came from swinging on a trapeze. Up here, he could forget his problems and just relish the feeling of flying through the air once again.

The routine they were currently performing was much simpler than the one he’d performed as part of the Flying Graysons, but given that he’d only turned up two weeks ago, Dick didn’t mind. The routines Boston had developed prior to Dick’s arrival had given the flying roles to Lorna and Raya, with Boston, Cleveland and Raymond doing the less glamorous but equally important job of catching.

Once Dick had arrived, some simple changes to the lineup had allowed him to participate, but Boston assured him that he was coming up with a new routine that would take advantage of the fact that they had a new and very capable flyer as part of the troupe.

As easy as the performance was by his standards, Dick felt content as he dismounted the bar and Raya hopped on, ready to perform her finale with Lorna. The finale was one of the few portions of the routine that Boston had left Dick out of, since they already knew it was a crowd pleaser.

The entire group stood and bowed on the platform to thunderous applause at the end of the night, before jumping one at a time into the safety net in order to dismount. It was much quicker than climbing down the ladder again.

With their set done, they all regrouped at the performers entrance.“Good job guys.” Cleveland said to everyone as they began to disperse. “See you all tomorrow.”

Dick waved goodbye and started to head off, but noticed that Boston was following along with him. “Hey Dan, you got a minute?” Boston asked as he caught.

“Yeah, sure.” Dick nodded as he walked. “I was just gonna head over to the cafeteria and grab a bite to eat before I turn in.”

Boston fell in beside him. “I’ll walk with you.”

Dick wondered what the senior circus performer wanted. Every conversation the two of them had had since they were first introduced was related to their performance. Apart from practicing together daily, they hadn’t really interacted socially.

He could feel Boston’s eyes on him as they walked. “You’re John Grayson’s son, aren’t you? You’re Dick Grayson.”

Dick froze in mid step, unsure of himself. Briefly, he thought about playing dumb, but Boston had said the name with such certainty that Dick knew it would be a futile effort. He turned and nodded warily. “How did you know?”

Boston shrugged, gesturing at back at the flat top. “I knew you reminded me of somebody, and I thought I recognized those moves. I can’t believe it took me this long to put two and two together.”

“I didn’t know that you knew him.” Dick admitted as they continued walking. In the back of his mind Dick knew his dad had been born and raised in the circus, just as he had, but it just hadn’t occurred to him that other members of the circus community had known him.

“Hell yeah I knew him.” Boston said enthusiastically. “Your Uncle Rick too. Even met you once, back when you were a little kid.”

“Wow.” Dick said, stunned by the revelation. “I don’t know what to say. I don’t remember you at all.”

“Yeah, you were young. Barely even a toddler.” Boston looked up at the sky, a faraway look in his eyes. He clamped a hand on Dick’s shoulder and lead him away from the cafeteria and towards the street. “Forget the cafeteria. Come have dinner with me and my family kid, we’ll talk.”

They took a cab to the apartment that the circus was renting for Boston and his family. Dinner had been home cooked by Lorna, and turned out to be a very enjoyable affair. The food was good and throughout dinner Boston’s 7-year-old daughter Sophia kept climbing about, jumping between two empty dining chairs while her mother and her uncle watched.

Dick felt a pang of sadness in his gut as he realized that it felt like he was watching his family, all together again.

After dinner, as Cleveland played with Sophia while Lorna looked on, Boston and Dick sat together at an empty table while the former spoke earnestly about his relationship with Dick’s family.

“I met your dad about 30 years ago, when I was 16. Our parents,” Boston said, motioning between Cleveland and himself, “died young, so Cleveland and I were living with our grandpa. He was back stateside at Hill’s Circus, doing motorcycle stunts.”

Dick nodded along as he listened.

“Your dad and your Uncle signed on with Hill’s Circus for a few seasons. They needed a couple more guys for the Trapeze act, so your dad taught me and Cleve the ropes. Taught us everything we know, and here we are, years later.” Boston laughed. “I’d like to think they did a pretty good job.” “What happened after that?” Dick asked earnestly. He’d never met another trapeze artist that wasn’t a family member before his return to Haly’s two weeks ago, so the fact that the first one that he met had been friends with his dad felt serendipitous.

“Your Uncle Rick got your Aunt Karla pregnant there, and they left to try and find better opportunities. Your dad went along with him. I know they tried a couple of different shows. Your dad met your mom a couple years later at the Cirque Romanes in Paris. Eventually, they ended up at Haly’s and, well, you know the rest.”

Boston looked from Dick over to his daughter Sophia, who was laughing cheerfully as her uncle threw her up in the air before catching her with a flourish.

“I managed to see them every now and then. Managed to make it to both their weddings too. They were like the older brothers I never had, you know? They looked out for us.” he said quietly.  “I didn’t hear what happened to them until much, much later. We were touring in Europe at the time.”

Boston looked back over at Dick. “I know your parents would have been proud.”

“I’m not so sure.” Dick replied tiredly.

Boston gave Dick a friendly pat on the shoulder. “How could they not? You’re better than the both of them combined.” He sighed. “I know you’ve had it rough kid. Losing your family the way you did… Hell, I’m surprised you’re still able to climb up there and do what you do.”

Dick wasn’t sure what to say.

“It doesn’t take a genius to see that you’re running away from something.” Boston shrugged again as he stood up. “All I’m saying is, if you want somebody to talk to, my family and I are here for you.”

“Thanks.” Dick said, standing up as well. He walked towards the door, intent on heading back to his bunk at the Circus. “That means a lot to me.”

Boston nodded as he walked Dick out. “Now that we know where we both come from, we should start talking about changing up the routine.”

Dick smiled as he waved goodbye, thinking of some Flying Grayson routines that they could incorporate into their performance. “Actually, I’ve got some ideas about that.”

“We’ll talk tomorrow. Get some rest. You’ve earned it.”