#i think i've used up like. 7? 8? ten draws over the course of this event and not a SINGLE rate-up unit. beyond that even

[junonreactor]

my pull luck in limbus has been almost impressively bad for this banner

[mongoose-bite]

fic writer interview @nevermindirah tagged me! Thank you, Happy New Year :3

I'm tagging @thana-topsy @baratrongirl @amazinmango @raindrop-rouge, but only if you want to, no obligation.

How many works do you have on AO3?

83.

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

1,369,970

There you go, substantially more than a million words, for the sheer love of it.

3. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Fuck: My Life Nearly 190k of eruriren porn star AU. Of course it's my top fic.

These Weren't Memories ereri canonverse, written after the first season. It's old, and I don't like all of it, but it's a classic of the ship as I tried to make it work as close to canon as I could.

Neither Tarnished Nor Afraid ereri, and the first true AU I ever wrote. It's a weird police procedural, and I think it's up there just because it's old and has had more time to accumulate kudos to be honest.

The Beneficent Gentleman Finally a non-snk fic. Kingsman, hartwin, and my only epistolary story, loosely based on the novel Daddy Long-Legs, and I'm quite proud of how it turned out.

Flight (When None Pursueth) And we're back to ereri; it was just the biggest ship I ever sailed. This was my serious take on a reincaration AU, and it was not fluffy.

4. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

Usually I do now, but back in the heyday of the SNK fandom I rarely did, cause there were just a lot of them. I responded to long ones or ones that asked a question. I also think the culture has changed on it too; ten years ago it was much less expected for authors to respond to generic 'i liked it!' comments, but as comments have dried up overall, it's become more common.

5. What’s the fic you’ve written with the angstiest ending?

If There is a Cure Skyrim fic. Delphine/Dragonborn, and there is no happy ending.

6. What’s the fic you’ve written with the happiest ending?

95% of all my other fics tbh.

7. Do you write crossovers?

I don't enjoy crossovers. I wrote one tiny Ojisan to Neko/Persona 5 fic that probably would have been funnier as fanart, but I can't draw.

8. Have you ever received hate on a fic?

Ooh yeah, back in the day on ff.net in the early 2000's I had a guy get all caps on me cause I paired the PC of a game with an older woman, and a few others that were clearly designed to sap my confidence, presumably because I was writing the wrong ship.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Yes. Consensual.

10. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not as far as I'm aware.

11. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah a few times. Very flattering. I even had a translator pass on translated comments once.

12. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes but it's rare. Honestly I've only ever met one person with whom I really clicked as a collaborator. That was a long time ago, and we do very different things now. It's fucking magic if you can find the right person though.

13. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

Ereri is not my current interest, but it really was something special. I sometimes wonder if I'll ever write like it's 2014 again...

14. What’s a WIP that you want to finish but don’t think you ever will?

I don't have one. The only fic I never finished I abandoned completely.

15. What are your writing strengths?

Description; I can do a lot with few details.

16. What are your writing weaknesses?

Sloppy editing, repetitive phrasing, (a symptom of the former) and the pacing on long serialised fics can get very baggy.

17. What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?

Keep it to a minimum. If you don't need it, don't use it. It's more trouble than it's worth (I'm wearing my reader's hat for this one; my eye will just skip over it.)

18. What was the first fandom you wrote for?

Morrowind.

19. What’s a fandom/ship you haven’t written for yet but want to?

There isn't one. I've missed fandom a lot over the past few years, and if I'd wanted to write something I would have.

20. What’s your favorite fic you’ve written?

My Old Friend. It's barely a fic, really. A man goes back to his hometown to bury his abusive uncle and reconnects with the father of his childhood friend, on whom he had a powerful but obviously unrequited crush on as a teenager. I had to string together a bunch of unrelated prompts as part of an event, and it just turned out really well. I'm proud of it.

[dwarfsized]

writing patterns tag game!

tagged by the beautiful and talented @aevallare thank youuuuu (when i wrote this the first time I wrote "talenterd" and i thought about leaving it but instead i did this)

Rules: list the first line(s) of your last 10 posted fics and see if there's a pattern!

I dont have ten posted fics but I'll do it for the ones i DO have posted and then. a bonus. for an unposted kira/astarion wip, at the end. :)

eldath's mercy (bg3, f!tav/astarion, AU)

In the end, Astarion escapes Cazador almost entirely by accident.

2. true colors shine in darkness and in secrecy (bg3, f!tav/astarion)

There is a moment between consciousness returning and opening her eyes, body limp in the sand on the beach, where everything that happened to Kira on the Nautiloid feels like a bad dream.

3. that's the kind of love i've been dreaming of (bg3, f!tav/astarion)

Lady Floris bloody Eomane, in her awful peach frock with her gaudy peridot earrings, has spotted Astarion by the veranda and is walking over.

4. Fighting the Hurricane (Critical Role, widowjest, AU)

Caleb Widowgast, upon writing to join the Menagerie Coast Defense Corps, has very little evidence to prove his credentials. Everything that might have shown he was once Bren Ermendrud in any official capacity has either literally burned, or is so deeply lost to Trent Ikithon’s machinations that it might as well have gone up in flames.

5. and when you go, take this heart (the arcana, f!apprentice/asra)

Asra hasn’t been teasing her too long, he doesn’t think, but judging by how desperately Kira is holding on to him he’s butting right up against the limits of her patience.

6. ain't it warming you (the world goin' up in flames) (Critical Role, widowjest)

Caleb doesn’t hide his arms the way he used to. He stopped wearing the wraps a while ago, of course, but he’s got his shirtsleeves pushed up, letting Jester really see his forearms.

7. Liebe ist Fürsorge (Critical Role, widowjest)

“I don’t know about this, blueberry.”

“It will be fun, trust me,” Jester says, waving the brush around.

BONUS:

8. ephemera (bg3, f!tav/astarion, AU)

Astarion assumes that he is imagining the tiefling when he sees her appear in the corner of the study. He’s doing his utmost, half-delirious with pain, to stay silent beneath his Master's attentions. He can’t recall producing visions of women with bleeding throats and furious gazes whilst being tortured before, but as he looks up at her, bleary-eyed, he thinks that surely there is a first time for everything.

THE PATTERN:

Well, I basically never start with dialogue. Literally the only story that starts with that is Liebe ist Fürsorge, and that is (checks notes) 5 years old. I set a scene first, i guess, i do not drop you in the middle of Something Already Happening? is that anything. (it is nothing, things are happening i just want everyone to be quiet at first)

And boy, i do love to include the POV character's name or nickname in the first line almost every single time huh. Besides that hhhhh i dont know i just work here

this was fun!! i will tag @simon-says-nothing and anyone else who wants to participate i am drawing a huuuuuge blank

[andswarwrites]

Day 10

I've written about my mental health in bursts and starts over the years since I was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, but I’d like to start from the beginning and tell the story in its entirety, from the label "crazy" and how it affected me as a youth, to my roller coaster ride of highs and lows in my twenties, to my psychoses, my diagnosis, my therapy, and ultimately this period of stability I now cherish.  It's going to be a four-part-er I think, starting, as I said, with Part One: Stacey is Bipolar (a teenager with "mood swings")

Both of my parents are blonde and blue-eyed, so both of my siblings and I are blonde with blue eyes too.  Our family has heard a lot of blonde jokes.  Blonde is supposedly synonymous with airhead.  When someone would start telling blonde jokes, I would join in, because I wanted to show that I wasn't bothered by this brand of humor.  I learned at a young age that taking offense and getting upset is not as efficient as staying calm, and laughing at yourself along with people.

As a kid my playmate of choice was my best friend, but when we moved I only saw her from time to time, and my new neighbor was a little bit younger than me, and we didn't always get along.  Since I was homeschooled, and we lived in the country, I didn't experience playgrounds and bus rides the way my daughter did.  From hearing of her experiences, I don't feel I missed out on much.  I volunteered at my N-'s school library and I must say if I had attended primary school, I think I would have liked the library best.

I attended a little English school in Baie Comeau for Grades 7 and 8.  It had all grades, from Kindergarten to Grade 11.  At Recess, the littlest kids would traipse through the halls, and would bestow hugs on the High Schoolers.  I thought High School was rough, but honestly, that school was a kiddy pool compared to the schools I would attend in Grade 9.  I think my parents were wise to enroll me in that school.  My teachers told them I went around in a daze for the first three months.

I'd say my closest friend at that school was a girl who was one grade ahead of me.  Since certain grades didn't have enough students to fill a classroom (this was a tiny school), our classroom held two or even three grades.  My friend was thoughtful, quiet, calm, and I gravitated toward her.  She's the one who told me I had mood swings.  Apparently, this was normal teenager behavior. In Grade 9, I changed schools three times, and by the end of the year I was fed up and asked to be homeschooled again.

My mom didn't like it when people called me crazy.  I think they meant I was bubbly, hyper and impulsive.  And I could be.  I could also sit for hours with my nose stuck in a book.  When I was alone, I drew, I read, I wrote.  When I was in social groups I didn't know how to act.  I had a strange sense of never fitting in, and I didn't know why.  There must be something wrong with me, I decided, but I didn't want to let on that that was how I felt.  It was when I felt like I had no friends that I started long distance correspondence with two sisters.  We would send one another bricks of doodles, drawings and of course, eight to ten page letters.

One of the most profound things my psychiatrist told me while he was in the process of diagnosing me, was that bipolar disorder has nothing to do with personality.  Who I am as a person, who I always have been, is not tainted by my mental disorder.  All those times I identified as "crazy", as a defense mechanism because others used that label on me, it wasn't true.  At some point during my teenage years, I began to have "ups" and "downs".  I don't remember them, though, because my parents provided me with enough structure and support that I was able to remain relatively stable.

You see, bipolar disorder can make you manic or depressed.  You can either burst with energy and live on a "high", or you can crash and drag yourself around in a "low".  My highs weren't as apparent to my mom as my lows were, so she worried that I struggled with depression.  But then the low would pass, and she would be reassured.  I didn't clue in until my twenties that something was up, and even then I didn't seek professional help.  It wasn't because I didn't want to, it was because I didn't know how to go about consulting.

It's funny, I guess a mental disorder actually does classify me as "crazy", but I no longer use that label to identify myself.  When I was a teenager, I developed the habit of putting myself down as a defensive strategy, because I thought if I did it first, that would empty the arsenal of everyone else.  I was hyper focused on my flaws and failings, so I thought everyone else was too.  It took me a while to learn that no one is perfect, we all mess up, we all need to be forgiven, we all need to forgive.

If I can love others even when they're not perfect, why would I be the exception to that rule?  Why would I need to be perfect to be lovable?  Chasing perfection is unhealthy.  As a teen, I think my mental health was crushed under the weight of seeking to be perfect far more than it was affected by my bipolar disorder.  But my symptoms of bipolar disorder were going to worsen, until crisis point.  Like I said, my parents provided me with a lot of structure and support.  They kept me consistent, they helped me meet my goals.  But what would I do when I left home?  I'll tell that story tomorrow.

[scotianostra]

On April 10th 1988  Sandy Lyle became the first Scottish golfer to win the US Masters tournament.

It was lucky 7 for Sandy in his previous six attempts his best score was 3 under par in 1986 tied for 9th place behind the “Great White Shark” Greg Norman. In my opinion I don’t think he got the credit he deserved two years before when he won The Open  Sandwich, England.

Sandy Lyle made his 37th appearance in the Masters this week, where he celebrated the 30th anniversary of his historic success at Augusta National. Sandy went into the tournament in peak form in 1988 after winning the Greater Greensboro Open the previous week. I remember a friend put money on him winning the masters so I took more of a notice than normal, I think he was 33/1 to take the Green Jacket.

  Sandy led from the second round and in the final round the title looked in the bag  when he led by three after 10 holes on the Sunday, but he came unstuck a bogey at the 11th and a double bogey at the next, Mark Calcavecchia took the lead at the 13th and the Scot had to dig deep to remain in contention, he shot  three successive pars then a birdie at hole 16 to draw level. At the 18th we had given up hope of him winning when he hit a bunker but Sandy hit a brilliant shot from there and we were cheering as the ball landed on the green past the flag but started rolling back to within ten feet of the hole. He then drained the 10-foot birdie putt to claim victory and raised his arms in the air to celebrate before dancing a little jig and embracing his caddie, I think we woke the neighbours as we shouted and cheered him.

  I even remember the next year, tradition has it that the reigning champion chooses the Champions Dinner, which takes place each year on Tuesday night before teeing off the championship on Thursday, I don’t know how he got round the ban on it, but Sandy, donned the Kilt and chose Haggis as the starter that night,  Lyle told the Augusta Chronicle.

  "The older guys, like [Jack] Nicklaus, had been to Scotland and knew what haggis was. But the newer ones, guys like Lar­ry Mize, they weren’t too sure about that.”

I dug up another mention of Sandy’ meal from the CNN web page in which they describe haggis…..

“ – a dish of sheep innards minced with oatmeal and spices – not to everyone’s taste.  It doesn’t sound very nice in the first place,” the 1988 winner told CNN. “It’s a lot of barley, spices, blood, slightly sort of off cuts,” added Lyle, who admitted most of his fellow diners “just pushed it around their plate.” As Larry Mize put it:

“Well I guess I’ve had the dinner every year except Sandy Lyle’s year, I did not have the haggis, that was unique the haggis!

"Thank God it wasn’t the main course otherwise it would have been a disaster,” said Lyle in his defence.

Sandy, now 66, plays on the Seniors circuit nowadays, but as a former champion is entitled to an invitation to play The Masters each year, his best finish since his win has been tied 20th in 2009. This year he didn’t make the cut with a +12 after the first two rounds.

England didn’t have long to claim their first victory as Nick Faldo won the following year, as seen in the third pic., another tradition being the last years winner presents the winner with the customary green jacket.

Sandy said last year that this year would be his last Masters and he didn't have the best of tournaments.

Lyle 's farewell tour of the famous Augusta National course, did something he has never managed before at the age of 65. Sandy broke his first club at his final appearance at the Masters and joked: "And it wasn't even over my knee."

The former champion suffered a shocking start to his penultimate round here when he blocked his opening drive into trees – and then snapped his 8-iron on a root hitting a left-handed shot which struck another branch and a cameraman. Lyle, still scrambled a bogey on his way to nine-over par 81 in his 42nd appearance here.

The Scot said: "It's the first one I've broken here. Taken 40 years to do it, but it's happened. First hole, and it wasn't even over my knee! I nearly always pulled it off the 1st hole, and this time I actually hit the other shape.

At his final 18th green a day later Masters organisers were slated when they suspended play as fans gathered at the green to see the Scot attempt a 12 foot putt to finish his Masters career.

Despite protests from Kokrak and the other player in the group Talor Gooch – not to mention spectators who chanted “let them putt” – officials instructed Lyle to mark his ball. 

Next day when the horn sounded at 8 a.m. to signal the start of play and open the course to spectators Lyle took out a ceremonial golden putter a replica of the one he used in 1988, made for the occasion and two-putted for a double-bogey completing his final competitive round in front playing partners Jason Kokrak, Talor Gooch, their caddies and a few maintenance crew and officials. Robbed of the rousing sendoff accorded former champions.

Sandy commented afterwards

“I’ve had most of the night to think about it, I know that, I’ve had a few drinks, as well, through the night so it was a little bit cloudy this morning. It’s a shame we didn’t get the chance to finish yesterday, but that’s just the way it is. The rules are the rules. I needed about another 30 seconds for a chance to hit the putt.

“The emotions are pretty high. As you look back at it, it’s gone very quick since ‘88, but it’s never let me down. You really appreciate how big the Masters is. The memories and the way you’re treated as a past champion. I look forward to coming back and playing the Par 3 Course, and playing off the members’ tees will be quite nice.”

[tentacle-stylograph]

(picture from here but by Holly Main)

okay, therapy homework. over the next 13 days (12 now), try to have at least ten days where i do at least one "self-love" thing and record what it is

shark picture 'cause i'm hoping i'll find a roll of stickers to mark the days i succeed, and those stickers have some sharks with party hats

__

T 1 Nov: successfully told myself to stop talking to myself so badly

W 2 Nov: was doing a character voice in my car and eventually said affirmations to myself as that character, as if he were talking to me

H 3 Nov: worked on fanart pic!! only did about 20 or 25 mins when i wanted to do 35, but i distracted myself hugely beforehand and also forgot / failed to put on any "am i doing what i want" timers

F 4 Nov: didn't take physical notes during speaker event tonight!! really, really pushed myself longer than i should have in my illustration class, so i needed the break.

second part to above: didn't take great memory palace "notes," but i'm not beating myself up about it. i told myself before the event, "hey, it's okay to not take notes on everything. sometimes it's okay to just LIVE what's happening. even if you remember very little from tonight, that's still okay."

A 5 Nov: talked to my brother about difficulties i've had communicating with him (but thanks to a friend who i asked for advice, and of course part of her advice was "if there's a real problem it's important to discuss what it is and how it can get better."

S 6 Nov: call with friend to help me with homework + DID SOME OF THE SCARY ZBRUSH STUFF + went out to the nearby Pokestop a few times when it was orange (Gimmighoul event thing?)

M 7 Nov: MORNING EXERCISES. I DID MY MORNING EXERCISES ON MY OWN YEEEEAAAAAAAHHHH

T 8 Nov: GOING TO VOTE even though i didn't have every section checked out; i just didn't vote on everything

W 9 Nov: cleared my computer desktop. I'D BEEN WANTING TO FOR LITERALLY MONTHS -- THERE WERE SCREENSHOTS FROM AT LEAST SEPTEMBER AND THERE WERE OVER 100 ICONS -- so this was nice. took a while, but nice

H 10 Nov: fINALLY read some more of a digital One Piece zine i have! :D a good time. i took a bit to choose between my fanart project and the zine, but i settled on the zine 'cause (1) it'd be faster to get off my desktop and i like the organization and (2) i got a copy of the zine for a friend and it's nice to be able to talk about it together, if that's of interest

F 11 Nov:

A 12 Nov: not pushing stepdad's wheelchair whole time even tho i would have preferred to, in a way. but it would have been bad for my hands, and i would have been doing so mainly out of guilt. (it helped that he himself mentioned my hands without my prompting)

S 13 Nov:

M 14 Nov: typing up and queueing some posts before bedtime

__

something i've discovered with this exercise (already, on day one and two): i don't (always) consider my reblogging and Pokemon Go as self-care. they're more incidental / distractions / my workout a lot of the time.

'course if i'm using them as a break or 100% for fun they can be considered such, but i don't really feel like, in themselves, they are such. they can even be used as self-sabotage, e.g. procrastination (will, i knew that last part, but i didn't connect that to self-care/self-love before)

-> 2 Nov: i'd HOPED to work on a drawing after doing some school things, but i got distracted reblogging for so long that it was too late for that drawing. i remembered the positive self-talk, though, and, even though it wasn't planned and i didn't think that much of it at the time, it certainly was self-love, so it's fair to count it

[river-bottom-nightmare]

Here's the headcanon-ficlet-thing I promised! Actually, sorry, it's only HALF of my idea. This thing got MUCH longer than I intended and I've decided it would be easier to just chop this whole thing in two. If I ever send another headcanon, it'll either be much shorter than this or I just won't use anon. Anyways, the death of Dick's parents had just been so SUDDEN and I started thinking, "What if Dick had some separation anxiety when he was younger that just... Never really got resolved? His parents were gone, just like that, and Bruce literally risks his life every day. That couldn't have helped my made up conflict either, I imagine." Hope you enjoy! (1/13)

When Dick first arrived at the manor, he'd just been so GLOOMY. Even after Tony Zucco's arrest, he moped around the living spaces and never seemed happy with how spacious the manor's rooms were. A handful of times, Bruce and Alfred had caught him crying in the emptier wings by himself, but they had never really been sure what to do with the kid other than feel guilty. Sometimes (rarely), Dick would seek one of them out for a hug or SOME form of comfort, but it never seemed to be enough to truly make him feel better. It was no secret that Alfred and Bruce were not the most affectionate people in the world, and Dick had come from a very loving place. It was just another new thing to adjust to in his already new, unfamiliar life. Then Dick wanted to be Robin, full time, and neither Bruce nor Alfred could really say 'no.' Dick still wasn't happy- not for a while- but eventually, his mood started to improve. (2/13)

Maybe that was why no one initially found the boy's habit of waiting by the manor doors alarming. It was one of the places he visited more frequently, and Alfred originally assumed it was because he liked hanging on that specific entrance's chandelier more than the others. However, as the weeks passed, it became obvious that it was just a place Dick liked to hang out when he was waiting for Bruce to return from work or patrol. When it began nearing six thirty, the time Bruce's work hours ended, Dick would set up his homework or drawing paper on the floor and work just to the side of the doors as he waited for them to open. Sometimes he'd even hold a handstand or stretch for however long it took Bruce to come home that day. At first, Alfred didn't know what to make of it. But, watching the way Dick's face lit up every time Bruce knocked at the door, the old butler figured the small habit couldn't do any harm no matter how strange it was. He was just happy the boy wasn't still brooding. (3/13)

Bruce also noticed how Dick always seemed to be waiting for him after work, but ultimately didn't find anything concerning about the observation. Sure, it was a little strange to have such a large reminder that he was an actual guardian now, but he reasoned with himself that Dick would grow out of it after a certain point. He decided to just let the boy be and life carried on. Besides, he wasn't Dick's only person of support; Bruce had caught Dick watching Alfred work in the kitchen on a number of occasions with a concentrated look on his face. Without a doubt, the boy was finally starting to adapt to the manor's way of life. (In all honesty, Bruce had probably been too busy being relieved over the old butler's existence to judge whether or not any of his new ward's behaviors could be considered alarming.) (4/13)

As Dick grew more and more relaxed overtime, neither Bruce nor Alfred put much thought into his other developing habits. For instance, as Robin, Dick always made sure to check in with a quick "Are you still there, Batman?" over the comms everytime the line went quiet for more than ten minutes. Bruce would occasionally warn him not to call in when they were on stealth missions, but Dick never quite seemed comfortable with leaving the line COMPLETELY dead whenever they left each other's sight. On those missions, he'd sometimes blow softly into his comm unit, and Bruce would have to make some subtle noise back so as not to completely worry the kid. Dick even seemed to develop certain behaviors around charity events and galas; for example, he would always hug Bruce's pant leg at the beginning of the events and would only let go once he was made to socialize. Despite the fact that it soon became apparent the kid was far from shy, the habit always took place without fail, to Bruce's perplexed amusement. Maybe the kid just hated Gotham's elites? (5/13)

More and more little habits flew under the radar as everyone still seemed to be adjusting to the new lifestyle. Occasionally Bruce and Alfred would pick up on something seeming a little off, but at the same time, Dick finally looked happy. Really, a few weird displays of affection here and there were FAR from their concern so long as Dick's days of endless distraught were over. And so, once Dick finally- and TRULY- settled into the manor as his new home, a bunch of odd behaviors just seemed to be swept under the carpet and ignored. On the unavoidable nights where Bruce got injured in the field, there was no missing how the habits seemed to rise in intensity, but by then... They became the everyday normal and were never addressed. (6/13)

(The Justice League found Robin's behavior more bemusing than anything. Dick was still in the habit of obsessively checking the comms when Batman, on a rare occasion, asked for backup. "Check in, Batman?" "Still scaling the perimeter. We might not catch any activity tonight past a few petty thefts." "Alrighty. And, uh, Superman! Status update!" "Nothing going on up here either, Robin." "Okay!" Ten minutes passed and the boy's voice crackled back to life on the comms once more. "Is everyone still okay?" After that one particular patrol, Clark had sent Bruce a questioning look. "He's nine. Of course he's worried." Clark didn't push it- or anyone else for that matter.) (7/13)

It wasn't until Dick turned sixteen and started looking to be more independent that his behavior finally set off a few alarm bells. His check-ins had turned more snippy over the years when Bruce and him got into fights, but they never really stopped. The arms clinging to Bruce's pant legs at galas were instead replaced by a friendly hand on Bruce's shoulder, yet Dick's presence had never really left his side- only growing more flighty and uncertain as he got older. When Dick did his homework, by then in his last year or two of highschool, it was no longer on the floor but instead in the dining room closest to the manor's entrance- still started at around five or six just like when Dick first arrived at the manor, and still fit to Bruce's work schedule. It occurred to Alfred that a few of Dick's behaviorisms probably should have been checked out a while ago. (8/13)

"When you were Master Richard's age, you were barely home. It's normal for teenagers to want a bit of distance and alone time, but Master Bruce, he only stays after school for club activities. The rest of his time is either spent partoling around the city or helping YOU. I'm worried whether or not his behavior is healthy." Bruce had contimplated these words before giving his own thoughts. At the time, he and Dick's working relationship as Batman and Robin was becoming a bit more strained, but he still KNEW Dick. "I'm not sure, Alfred. He says he's happy with the friends he has, and he's always been relatively well behaved... Could it be that this is just routine for him?" Alfred disagreed and so the discussion continued. However, any plans they made to adress the situation were cut short when Dick got shot in the shoulder. (9/13)

Bruce tried not to feel guilty about firing Dick and then kicking him out of the manor. A little space would be good for the boy, right? For as long he could remember, Dick had always been just around the corner. It was safer this way. He ignored Alfred's angry, dissapointed gaze and Clark's furious demands to explain what the hell he'd been thinking. Batman didn't need a Robin, and Dick would be fine without Bruce. (Bruce would be fine without Dick.) Later, on patrol, there was a second where the comm crackled to life. Before anything could happen it got shut off again, and before Bruce knew it, Dick's check-ins were gone. Batman didn't need Robin. (10/13)

There was no missing Dick's sudden change. With the Titans, Dick's mother henning got turned up to an eleven. Dick was always somewhere in the tower helping someone, and no one could miss the way he was practicaly always asking if anyone needed anything. Missions and patrols ran mostly the same, but it was much more often that Dick could be found staying up late at night, going through evidence on cases he was working on. His friends did their best to be understanding, but there was no hiding the fact that Dick needed help. Real help. They urged him to talk about what was wrong, but even Dick seemed to be at a loss for what he was going through. "I mean, I got kicked out! What else is there to say?" He yelled one day. Roy tried to reason with him. "But there's MORE to it than-" "There isn't." "Dick, you've been acting off for months." "And I'll be FINE in a few more! I'm always fine. Stop worrying." (11/13)

Eventually, they did. After a few more missions, it was as if nothing ever happened. Dick worked as he normally would and he started running off to do his own things rather than hover around other people's projects. He still gave off a sense of brokeness but by then there wasn't much that anyone could do. There had been one week in particular, though, that things just seemed to... Shift. Dick had just discovered that Bruce adopted another kid in the newspapers and there were sightings of another Robin. For a second, he seemed furious, and they all remembered feeling VERY concerned for what the guy might do. For four days straight it was if he was too angry to talk. On the fifth day, Dick disappeared. He wasn't seen again until the next morning. "Dick, are you alright?" Something visibly settled in him and just like that, Dick was fine again. Still overbearing, but fine. (12/13)

Okay! That's all I have so far since I don't want to spam your inbox with any more text blocks for one idea. You probably noticed that this first part just goes over more HOW Dick behaved when he was younger. The second part to this will focus more on everyone realizing that Dick had some repressed trauma going on, and the consequences it's had on him for never adressing said trauma. (Also Bruce, you shouldn't have kicked your teenage son out of the house. That didn't help.) Some of Dick's coping mechanisms when it comes to dealing with Bruce will probably also be questioned, but with the time away from Bruce, don't worry- Dick will be more obviously independent. He knew he wasn't in the best place. I'll send you the second part whenever I get done with it, which shouldn't take too long. Thanks for being excited to read my head canon and ideas! (13/13)

hey babe. this is,,,,,,oh my god. i love it so much. well actually i hated it because it was full of angst and it made me feel emotions and AGH. but also i loved it and god i can’t wait for the next part. you have NO IDEA how much i need the next part.

also, can i just say? the fic portion itself (2-12) is 1.7k words long. with a little editing, this could be a full fledged fic you can post on ao3. you absolutely don’t have to do it if you don’t want to, that’s just an idea i’m throwing out there.

dick with separation anxiety sounds so so plausible, because that abrupt shift from living in a circus to wayne manor of all places must have been QUITE the shift. i really loved how you touched on all these different habits and quirks dick had growing up, and how those bled over into different relationships in his life. and i can’t wait to see how you resolve it.

and i have one more thing for you. this isn’t really the same idea but it’s got somewhat similar elements: i read a fic a while back about dick being touch starved. it seemed up your alley, and anyone else who liked reading this incredible drabble, i think you’ll enjoy reading it! touch starved by envysparkler.