#steph from way downtown

[formulaforza]

MACK. oscar + "can i borrow a hoodie?" "i don't know, will i get it back this time?"

thank u sm lover <33

"Osccccc," you drag out the consonant, a smile on your face, goosebumps on your arms.

You're sat around the fire-pit in Oscar's back year, you and he and his parents and his sisters. It's late summer, and the air gets crisp when the sun starts to set. The crackle of the fire coats everyone in the thick scent of summer, but you still shudder.

"No," he says, sipping a beer, and you scoff.

"You don't even know what I was going to say!" You laugh.

He mocks your earlier tone, dragging out the letter sounds of your name the same way you'd done his. "You were going to ask for something."

"Can I borrow a hoodie?" You ask, flashing him your best puppy-dog eyes, your prettiest pout. "Please?"

"I don't know," he teases, even though he's already standing up and making his way to the sliding glass door on the back porch, making the journey to his bedroom for any one of his sweatshirts. "Will I get it back this time?" He laughs.

You shrug, even though both of you know if he wants it back he'll have to rummage through your closet himself for it. "I don't see why not," you smile.

[swingingthehatchetnow]

Pete always averted his eyes around the homeless man downtown. Whether it was because he got awkward around social interaction or felt unwarranted guilt about the man’s situation, he’d never managed to look the man in the eyes before. He couldn’t describe his face if he tried.

That changed after Jägerman.

The things that used to be uncomfortable really weren’t anymore. After holding court with the Void, a man on the street really doesn’t seem all that intimidating. Ruth and Richie would’ve made fun of him if he was scared of the little things after the whole ordeal, he knew. It helped him to imagine their reactions. Coping and whatnot.

His walk home was lonelier. As were his study sessions and social life. But the walks home were when he really felt their loss. Even though Pete and Ruth lived in the opposite direction, they’d walk with Richie to his place, and then cut through downtown to get back to the other side of town, where he and Ruth would part ways near the Coldstone, both going to their respective homes.

He still followed that route. Coping. And whatnot.

It was just after noon. Pete had his AP statistics final in the morning, and had no class in the afternoon, because his teachers were proctoring other exams around the school. So here he was. Peter Spankoffski, walking through downtown Hatchetfield, alone. Steph had a full school day, so he wouldn’t see her until later.

“Excuse me, do you have a minute to talk about saving our planet?”

He turned. The Green Peace girl was at it again, with a wide smile and a clipboard in hand.

“It’ll only take a minute of your time,” she continued, now holding out a brochure. Trying to reduce the amount of time he had to talk to her, he took it wordlessly.

“I, um—” his voice cracked, and his face flushed red. Nobody else his age was still having voice cracks. He cleared his throat. “I’ll take a look at it. Saving the world and all.”

Not like he hadn’t done that once already.

The Green Peace girl smiled even wider, and did a little bouncey turn on her heel. The way she bobbed off reminded Pete of Steph when she was in a particularly happy mood. This thought relaxed him a bit.

He tucked the brochure into his pocket and continued walking, though he didn’t get far before he was cut off by someone else.

“Spare change for the homeless?”

Of course he knew that voice. Anyone who spent more than five minutes downtown knew about the homeless man.

Before he even looked at the man in front of him, Pete reached for his wallet. He’d just gotten a bonus at work, so he figured he had a few dollars to spare. Besides, his movie theater job paid surprisingly well.

He grabbed a $5 bill and turned to the man.

“Here you—”

He knew that face.

Older, sure, and a little lost-looking, but there was no doubt about it. Pete was looking at…

“Teddy?”

The 20 year age gap between the Spankoffski boys left them with an interesting dynamic. It was hard to feel like brothers sometimes when one of them was coming home from kindergarten while the other was getting a full time job at CCRP.

But they had their moments. When Pete was learning how to drive, Ted would let him use his car, even though he hadn’t gotten his license yet, or the night before freshman year, when Ted gave Pete his ‘Spankoffski guide to charming the ladies’ guidebook.

Hand trembling, holding out the $5 bill, Pete looked into the cloudy eyes of his older brother. His older older brother.

Somehow, some way… Ted was standing in front of Pete, a shadow of his former self.

“That’s way cool, man,” he said, taking the $5 from Pete. No sense of recollection could be seen.

“Ted, what happened to you…?” Pete watched Ted pocket the money. And then Ted… walked off. Just like that.

“Ted, wait!” Pete called after him, but Ted didn’t turn around. He simply tugged his hat down over his ears and walked off.

With trembling hands, Pete reached for his phone. He spent no more than 3 seconds looking for his brother’s contact info and hitting the call button.

One ring.

Two.

Three.

Four…

“Aren’t you supposed to be in school?”

Pete sighed in relief at the sound of his brother’s voice on the other end of the line.

“No,” he said, “my AP exam was today. Ted, I—” he paused, realizing he had no idea what he was going to say. How do you ask someone if they know that they’re the homeless man from downtown.

He lost his nerve.

“…I was just wondering if you want to hang out later. I— I got a new game, and—”

“Yeah, sure whatever. I get off work at the usual time.” A sound came from Ted’s end of the line, fabric shifting, like he’d adjusted how he was sitting. “Is that all? Because I was about to pull the ol’ Spankoffski charm on this barista that Paul is trying to snag.”

The familiarity of the conversation was enough to ease Pete’s worries. Sure, he’d held court with the Void, lost his two best friends, nearly got shot executioner-style, and ran into what he was certain was some version of his brother in the streets… but all that didn’t matter because somewhere in downtown Hatchetfield, Ted Spankoffski was fine. And so was Pete.

“I don’t say it a lot, but I’m glad you’re my brother, Teddy.”

“Sorry, I was talking to Charlotte. Did you say something?”

Pete smiled and hung up.

Maybe the universe was bigger than he knew and could ever understand.

So what.

[imdeadinsidesiriuslydead]

Jason Todd x reader smut

~Cracked Mask~

Jason Todd x fem!reader

Minors. Don’t. Freaking. Read. This.

Warnings: Smut, sex pollen trope, no Happy ending

Being the newest member of the bay family was hard.

Everyone already had established relationships and amusing dynamics. You felt kinda like an outsider.

That’s not to say that they weren’t welcoming. Duke has opened up about being new to the team and how it was a struggle to feel like you belong.

“But it’s all a mental battle.” He told you “Trust me when I say, We all want you here. And you are important.” He smiled.

What he said made you feel better, but it didn’t help with the awkwardness you felt just existing while the others shared old memories and worked as a unit.

It felt like you were being a nuisance when you asked for help, feeling like you were throwing off the vibe they had going.

Babs, although you don’t call her that outload cause it feels a little weird to call Thee original batgirl by her nickname when you have only worked with her for a few weeks, had made you feel comfortable in the new setting. She had shared helpful tips on how to read the other members of the batfamily during fights.

The only one she hadn’t told you about was Jason Todd.

Jason was the robin your remembered the most through you early teen years along with Tim drake in the later years.

Jason was a total mystery to you. You had been introduced to him your first day, and you had been on missions together, but he never made an effort to talk to you.

You won’t lie. He’s ridiculously hot. But he made you nervous. The other siblings approached him with sarcasm and jokes but you’ve seen him beat the crap out of some villains and the apparent different side he show when he’s with his brothers give you whiplash.

You think he’s caught on to your little crush as he purposefully makes eye contact with you and refuses to look away first. When you blush and look away and when you look back, he has a smirk on his face. Enough to make you blush harder.

currently your being assigned mission by Bruce. He usually puts you with him and Damian or with Duke during daytime patrol, but today…

“Poison ivy has recently attacked a chemical plant in bludhaven, she’s retreated to her home towards uptown. Usually I would take this, but the Joker has been setting off alarms so Robin and I will take care of that. Jason and Y/N will take Ivy. Tim and Cass get kiteman has trying to hard to be important downtown. And Steph will stay here if any backup is required. Got it?” He asked.

Everyone nodded and started off toward their respective vehicles. You didn’t know how to drive any other than Batmobile. You looked around and your eyes landed on Jason. He had his helmet in his hand while he responded to a text on his phone.

He looked handsome just casually leaning against the table with his head down. But Ivy committed a crime and won’t hesitate to commit more. Your time is important and you’re on the job. You’ll have time to stare at him from afar later, but right now you have a job to do.

You approach him quickly. “So what are we taking?” You ask as the rest of the team sped out of the batcave.

He points to his motorcycle. Shit. You have to hold on to him. You look back at him and he’s smirking again.

You put on your mask and get on the bike with him. You lightly put your hands around him, trying not to notice his hard muscles under your fingertips. Your mind starts to drift to what they would look like without his shirt on but get startled back to reality when he revs his engine and takes off into the night.

——

When you both are as quietly as possible enetering Poison ivys lair, you remember to put on the mask you have in your utility belt. You can hear your breathing in your ear louder than before.

Vines grab at you legs but you quickly cut them away. You book it deeper in with The red hood at your tail. “Poison Ivy!” He yells.

“You should leave you know, I don’t want to hurt you.” She said as she makes her way out of the shadows.

“Should have thought of that before you attacked a chemical plant.” You said, getting into a fighting position.

“Fine.” She said. Vines attached to your legs and shook you both around. You cut them while they had you in the air and fell to the ground.

You heard a crack when you hit the ground but payed no attention as you hurt the red hood grab a flamethrower and start burning the vines around you.

poison ivy screamed and hit you fast with thick vines you couldn’t cut through. She held you both up in front of her, and seethed with anger.

“Fine. If you think you’re so big and bad to start killing living things like that. I’ll treat you like a real threat!” She yelled. She pulled out a big pink flower and as in was in her hand it bloomed.

She sighed with joy when it sprouted then turned to face you too. “You want to be treated like Batman? Fine.” She smiled before blowing the pollen from the plant into your faces.

you couldn’t smell it at first having total faith in your mask and air filter. But when a pain started in your midsection, you screamed.

The red hood looked over at you and Ivy smiled. “Bye.” She said before the vines through you out of the building and into the street.

Jason tan over to you as you laid in pain. You were shaking with pain but were shocked to feel a Tingling between your legs.

Jason picked you up and grappling hooked you to a dark rooftop.

he took off his mask. “Y/N. What happened?” He looked at your mask and ripped it off your face. You coughed while shaking on the ground. You saw the clear crack across the front and the pollen stuck to it.

Jason swiped the pollen off with one finger and took a small sniff. He face contorted with an emotion you couldn’t quite figure out.

“Shit. Um. Y/N we can’t go to Batman about this. Trust me it will be worse if she sees you like this.” He said as you coughed and shook. Was he really denying you medical attention right now. You felt like you were gonna die.

“I don’t care! Just-“you coughed”help me!”

He looked around almost unconformably. His eyes filled with something. And before you know it his hand was over your clothed heat. You gasped in shock but quickly realized you didn’t feel any pain, just pure pleasure.

He removed his hand and immediately the pain was back. And you screamed.

he put his hand back on your core and applied pressure. “Y/N you were hit with sex pollen. The pain will only get worse if you don’t relive your self.” He said.

You were so lost in pleasure that all you did was nod repeatedly asking him to just do it.

he looked shocked but his eyes were blown out with lust. “You want me to. Are you sure?” He asked.

“Yes! Jason please! Make me cum!” You moaned with no hesitation.

That was all he needed before he was mercilessly rubbing your clit through your suit. You moaned loudly.

Jason kissed you quickly to shut you up. His lips were soft and his kiss was loving and slow compared to the ruthless pace he has on your clit.

“ More Jason!” You moaned against his lips. He got on top of you and slotted his hip’s between your legs.

you felt his hard length pressed against you core. He started rubbing his hard cock against your pussy, earning soft moans from you.

He rutted against you faster emitting grunts every so often. He picked up pace putting his head in the crook of your neck and he let out soft whimpers.

of course he whimpers, you thought.

“You’re so- so fuck.” He moaned if your ear as he picked up pace.

the friction of your suits caused you to quickly finish and left you wanting more.

Jason looked down and saw the wet mark on the front of your suit and how it grew. That only pushed him further. It turned him on even more.

“Ever since you walked into the batcave I’ve wanted you under me.”He grunts out. You moaned as the words reached your ears.

He wanted you.

his rutting becomes sloppy and animalistic as he groans and koans above you.

he starts kissing your neck softly. Which is completely different than the brutal pace he’s set.

He lets out a whine before collapsing on top of you. You wrap your arms around him just wanting the closeness.

a minute goes by before you both slowly come to your senses.

He quickly stands up and looks down on you and you desperately try to cover yourself up out of embarrassment.

“Shit. I’m- fuck. I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking. When I smelt it to make sure I- fuck. We shouldn’t have- shit. Im Sorry.” He rambled before putting his face in his hands.

“Now what?” You ask as you stand up and face the opposite direction of him. “Like I don’t know how I’ll be able to look Bruce in the eye after. That.” You say as you just wish you had been given a different assignment.

“Let’s just go back and say the mission was a fail. Batman should have never given us this mission. He knows how brutal Ivy can be.” He says as he awkwardly picks up his helmet.

“let’s just forget this ever happened.” You say putting yourself back on the bike, pretending to not feel the tingle between your legs against the leather seat.

“Yea let’s just go back to normal.” He said.

you scoffed. “Yea the normal of ignoring me and me not talking to anyone.” You mutter.

“Y/N-“ Jason starts.

“No. Let’s just go. This was really weird. I want to go back home now.” You state feeling the embarrassment creep up your throat.

Not only did you just cum on this guy you only spoken five words to. But you just came on your bosses son. And he only did cause you were in pain. You felt like crying but you’d have to wait until you got back to the manor.

Jason simply nodded and got back on the bike and drove you home.

You only got laid causes he sniffed the pollen. The pollen made him say and babble crap he didn’t mean. You felt like an idiot.

————

part 2

request are open!

[batfambrainrotbeloved]

Hey, just wondering if you could give us some insight into how the sleepy kitten cafe staff met Alan/got close to him/what they think of him. Also curious to see what all the bats think about cardinal. Did they ever meet in costume?

P.S: Keep up the good work!!

Of course!! I touched a little bit in "Jerry the Raccoon" but that was mostly Tim & Zeek (and it was not my best chapter- but I refuse to edit it for my own sanity)

Also so far? No. Cardinal manages to maintain a distance 24/7 with bats (almost as if hes tracking them during patrol- wild right??) But overall

Bruce is tearing his hair out, but admits they are useful and more effort than they're worth.

Babs adores them, and is on a mission to find them out and take them under her wing

Dick finds Bruce plight funny- but is kinda unnerved how similar Cardinal is to a talon in some ways. (also just creepy in general)

Jason "Game recognizes game" but wishes Cardinal would stop running so he could ask him more questions

Cass never gets close. But not bothered by them.

Steph thinks Cardinal is badass but keeps her distance, doesnt trust the vibes

Damien acts like he doesn't care about Cardinal (He so does, hes obsessed- lowkey fanboy behavior)

Alfred thinks its nice Bruce has someone else willing to deal with Gotham, who ISN'T under his nagging control. Theres some respect there.

NOW Sleepy Kitten fam backstory (as of rn, subject to change as lore provides)

Well Alan Draper (Originally Alvin) was a normal civillian persona Tim had- but in order to MAKE a persona, people need to know you. Otherwise it takes a quick asking around to realize you aren't who you say you are.

So when Tim was Fifteen or so Alan "moved to Gotham" from Chicago and started taking classes at Gotham University. He started showing up at the cafe out of pure convinence before Obi and Gwen worked there (officially)

Obi's dad had a run in with a rouge, got injured, and couldn't work both shifts. So they turned to part time student and began running the store. They'd gotten used to Alan hanging around and they talked on ocassion but mostly enjoyed silence when the other was working. Slowly but surely Tim grew to love being Alan- one of the few times he could be stress free anymore and yet not be so alone. And Obi dealing with the stress of taking over family buisness had one customer whose ever presence was comforting.

A few months pass and they consider each other pretty close friends to the point Alan had a spare key to the cafe in case of emergencies. Soon after some of the other staff quit and Obi opened applications- Gwen showed up, nervous as hell having never worked a day in her life and already applying to like ten other positions.

But Obi was desperate and soon enough Gwen was at the cafe just about every hour of the day and night. It got to the point where she would hang out even after her shift.

Then by pure forced proximity, Alan grew to love her company just as much as Obi- though in a way that forced him out of his shell just a bit.

It was clockwork of Alan, Gwen, and Obi all at the Sleepy Kitten on random day hours chatting away while working.

Events of the chapter transpire, with Alan showing up with this guy who 100% belongs in a gang, but Obi takes "minding their own buisness" HARD and trusts both Alan and Gwens opinions (Gwen who just saw sad guy and forced to help)

Now Obi has basically permenantly taken over the cafe, but still takes some art school classes on the side with some of the profits that don't go back into the cafe.

Gwen and Zeek have an apartment together in the far narrows since Gwen was desperate to move out, and Zeek was company and free security, who also needed a place. Apartment is just a block or so from the cafe too

Alan lives outside downtown but commutes often, works odd hours but whenever he is free, will set up in the cafe and enjoy the peace for a bit with his friends.

Long story short- they were coworker friends, except Alan refused to take a job literally ever.

[raspberrysmoon]

tellmemore about ictd...pleasase e/nf

has been sitting in my drafts for almost exactly 24 hours. hell yes i will i <3 ictd. welcome to: random facts and story beats + some characterizations that matter (and an intro to the series since people have never heard of it somehow /lh)

cursory warning for mentions of death, brief mentions of cannibalism and stalking.

remember the masterpost is in my pinned with more info!! enjoy!

ictd starts during the summoning, where things spiral out of control for our main characters.

- ictd is a fic series where the lords in black (and webby) and a greater amount of control over hatchetfield! they're deeply connected to the land as well as any plant or creature born to or on that land. i.e. everybody who was born in hf.

- their grip is stronger and meaner in the witchwood. this is why people like lumberaxe and the metzgers are the way they are.

- they also have "districts", where children born are more likely to fall into a specific connection (like downtown, where pokeys strongest, or the old kids district where nibbly's stronger). i havent exactly worked out the map of the island yet, so this is a work in progess

- connection level ranges from 0 (non native to hf) to 10 (a lord), and power falls along with this. higher number, more power. the current strongest human or human-adjacent character is lumberaxe at a 9. anybody above an 8 is likely to appear slightly off or inhuman. the most common levels are 2-4, the least are 0 and 10, of course

- pete, steph and grace (called 'the three' or 'our three') are all 3-6 when the series starts. they'll wind up being 7s or 8s by the end. we get to see them evolve :]

- all three have physical changes immediately. grace grows eyes in odd places, pete grows horns and excessive hair on his legs thats painful to touch for months, steph grows sharper teeth. i bet you can guess who's connected to which lord

- a lot of people die. your faves might die. my dead list isnt done yet. they all have a role in max, ruth, and richies storyline. i have to start have my ictd posts with "i killed your blorbo, im sorry" (see linda, zoey, the metzgers eventually)

- a fun fact: blinky has the most people so far, webby has the least!

- lots of bad things like cannibalism and stalking happen. often. "its hatchetfield", they say. people go missing constantly, and turn up dead or half dead. eventually.

- the clivesdale rivalry is one-sided, and fueled by the lords. any hatchetfield citizen will deadass kill a chemist. for fun. the lords find this entertaining, including webby.

- any connection (alignment) to any lord causes illness. what type differs between lord, and intensity varies from person to person. miss holloway and sheila young have it the worst.

ok, ill save you a full blown essay. this is most of the things i haven't gotten a chance to talk about before now :]

[alieninvasionsarenotajoke]

Everymanhybrid headcanons you have?

Ohmygod you have just opened pandoras box my friend and I thank you so much for it Before Slendy/The EMH channel: So I'd like to think all the boys met in Highschool with Jeff and Vinny meeting first and Evan joining the friend group around sophomore year. Evan gives me the vibes of an extrovert who adopted two introverts and never left them. He was also probably the one who introduced them to their other friends (Nick, Daniel, etc) and the rest is history !

They all like skateboarding, mainly Evan. He's the one who taught the other two how to with Vinny absolutely KILLING it and Jeff.... not so much.

This is less headcanon and more canon since Vinny and Jeff have guitars lying around. But they all play some sort of instruments and have definitely thought about making a band before. Jeff would be on the guitar, Vinny maybe the bass or keyboard, and Evan would go crazy as a drummer.

Speaking of which Vinny and Jeff give me big band kid energy. Mainly Jeff.

I can also see Vinny being a theater kid.

OH! Steph was homeschooled and chronically online (in a millennial way) because of it. This lead her into so many fandoms and she wrote so much cringe fanfiction. Some she wouldn't even let Evan see.

Also Steph is really into 2000s animated MTV shows and kinned Pheobe from Downtown.

One more thing about Steph because I love her and I'm 100% not projecting onto her ;D She loves mindless self indulgence, she wants revenge, and modest mouse. I feel like Vinny and her bonded over music, especially Modest Mouse.

After slendy/emh channel: Vinny is a very big Modest Mouse fan, like listened to all the albums and probably knows the bandmembers names and lore. His favorite album is "The Moon and Antarctica" which became a comfort album during his time living with Habit. He listened to "Alone down there" over and over because it reminded him of his friendship with Evan.

Sidenote if you haven't listened to "The moon and antarctica" you really should cause most of the songs give me EMH vibes. Especially Alone Down There and Tiny Cities made of Ashes. I honestly want to make a analysis on that album and how it fits with EMH, but that's for another time. :D Back to headcanons. Habit loves frustrating boardgames like monopoly or uno. Mostly because he feeds off the emotions. When Vinny lived with Habit, he would always bug him about playing Monopoly specifically. Vinny gave in one time and played for a bit until he realized Habit was somehow cheating.

Habit also ate the pieces in front of Vinny as a power move.

He also likes how metal tastes.

Habit might have pica.

That's all for now because if I go on any longer I'd start writing a whole ass book. If you'd like more headcanons I'd be glad to post some cause I have plenty !! Sorry if anything here is confusing I'm bad at putting thoughts into words sometimes XD

if you've read this far, here have an Evan:

[feelyourrush]

A Sonny Disposition || Tim LaFlour x F!OC || Chapter 001

Synopsis: Sonny, a freshman at Stratford University, is a bubbly and hyper-feminine fashion design student all the way from Australia. She's excited to be on her own for the first time, but settling into independence is proving to be more complicated than she anticipated. Thankfully, fellow student, piercing-lover punk, and hockey ingenue Tim LaFlour lives in the same apartment building as her and is more than willing to lend a helping hand—even if they seem to be from completely separate worlds. What will they learn from each other? What will they have the patience to teach each other?

Genre/tags: Pure fluff, no smut. A friends-to-lovers slow burn romance with mutual pining. Imagine two golden retrievers crushing hard on each other p much!! Slight age difference, big size difference.

Word count: 1,850

A/N: My first fic in the Matt Lillard tag! My first fic on this blog! My first fic in a long, long time. And of course I couldn't help but start a new series. Aiming for this to be a novella/shorter chapter book. Hope y'all enjoy and please leave feedback if you have it!!

"Honestly, Auntie Steph, Uncle Benny—" I let out a grunt, hoisting a large suitcase and out of the back of their trunk— "Don't worry too much about me. I'll be fine, and I know who to call in case I need any help."

They followed behind me, with Auntie Steph carrying a large dress form and Uncle Benny pushing a dolly with the rest of my things. "We know, love. We're just one call away, and your Auntie Steph has some clients downtown," Uncle Benny addressed me from behind the pile of moving boxes atop the dolly as we walked into the apartment building.

"Right. I'm down here at least twice a week," Aunt Steph said. She was a consultant for an interior design firm, handling top-tier clients. Famous actresses, hockey players, the like. I held the door open as best as I could, practically squished between the door and the railing of the small staircase up to the apartment building.

I was a few days away from starting my freshman year at Stratford University in Toronto. I was a late registrant, so by the time I got accepted, there was no housing left in the freshman dorms. Instead, I was assigned to an apartment typically reserved for the upperclassmen. It was still maintained by the university, but I supposed I still had perks. Living with the older students probably meant a bit more freedom, not that I was planning on doing much besides schoolwork.

My aunt and uncle were just like my parents, worrywarts. Except, I could at least dodge my parents somewhat; I came all the way from Australia where I've lived for the last... well, my whole life. They were busy with work so all they could do was drop me off at the airport. Between then and about an hour ago, when I met up with my aunt and uncle at the airport, I traveled alone and enjoyed it. Don't get me wrong, I love my family, and I appreciate having people who cared about me a lot—but my goodness, could they be overbearing!

I was trying to hide my anxiousness to get rid of my aunt and uncle, but I wasn't so sure how well it was working. "I know. I've got you both on speed dial," I said, flashing them one of my signature megawatt smiles as we careened my things inside.

Like in the movies, students were bustling across the lobby, traversing its small space with ease. They looked grown up, if that makes sense. I felt intimidated, to say the least, and had half a mind to pay a visit to the chancellor's office or find someone else in charge to see if they could squeeze me into one of the freshman dorms. I would take an air duct if it was all they had.

My apartment was upstairs, at the very end of the hall on the third floor. The building seemed older, less well-kept and modern like the rest of the university. The dusty spiderwebs in the corners of the ceiling and the scratched linoleum in my room gave the whole place a nice charm, though. It was lived-in, and felt grown-up, too.

I could feel the excitement set in as Uncle Benny emptied the dolly. Eventually, they plopped onto the sunken-in, emerald green couch in the middle of the living room. I laughed, watching them take their exaggerated breaths. We were a theatrical bunch.

"Somehow, we did it," Auntie Steph said.

Uncle Benny checked his watch. "Alright, honey. It's almost lunch time. We'll get out of your hair so you can get something to eat. Remember what we said."

"Of course," I said, giving them hugs as they stood up from the couch. Real good hugs, too, like the ones I'd given my family right before I got on the plane. It was a bittersweet moment, one that marked the end of my phase as that little kid who played dress up with her Barbie dolls and the beginning of my new chapter as a fashion design student. "I love you both."

"We love you too," Aunt Steph said. "We'll send our wishes."

After they left, I was so exhausted from my long journey that I thought I'd better rest, too. With a deep breath, I landed on the couch—and heard a crack of wood underneath me. I sank a few inches.

===

"Thanks so much," I said while signing my name on a piece of paper. I looked up at the gentleman with a polite, expectant smile.

"Are ya sure you don't need our help carrying this up?" he asked, raising his eyebrow at me. Behind him, a small crew of movers were transporting my new couch into the lobby.

"Umm..." I sized the couch up and down. It was about the same size as my old one, with three cushions. Knowing my parents, they ordered me something a bit hefty so it would last longer, made of real wood and all. I had the upper body strength of a squirrel, probably, but I didn't want to look stupid in front of the movers. I was grown up, after all, doing big girl things now. Surely I could move a couch by myself. Giving them all a thumbs up, I said, "I should be able to handle it. Got some friends coming soon to help me."

"Alright," the gentleman filed my papers away and gave his crew a shrug before walking out. "Have a good day, miss."

It was just me and a couch in the lobby now. "Hmm." I circled it, feeling its plastic wrap. At least I wouldn't have to worry about the cushions flying off while I was carrying this thing. I glanced over at the elevator, which was much too small to fit the couch on (and it probably would've been over the weight limit). Then I looked up at the stairs.

Not realizing I was taking up the space in front of the main entryway to the building, I heard someone clear their throat behind me, startling me.

"Uh... need a hand?"

I didn't know where to look first, because it certainly wasn't his face. He was a tall guy, at least a foot taller than me, bleach blonde, and he wore these giant black combat boots, faded gray jeans that had more than a little distressing on them, and a cut-off t-shirt that said The Ramones on it. He had a cornucopia of piercings on his face. Their silver beads reflected under the fluorescent light. I'd never seen anyone like him before.

I was probably gawking, because a second later, he spoke again. "You okay?"

I picked my jaw up off the floor. "Yeah! Yeah, totally. I just, um..." I chuckled awkwardly, patting the top of the couch.

"Did you order this thing?"

"Yes, I did," I said confidently.

"You know, the apartments come with their own couches, right?" He couldn't hide his smile.

"Yeah," I said, not so confidently anymore. For a scary-looking guy, he had a big, friendly smile. It caught me off guard, just like the rest of him did. "Mine, um, broke."

Despite his smile, I thought he was going to chew me out and tell me to move. But he looked the couch up and down, and then looked at me at least up (my lower half was covered by the back of the couch) and said, "Right. Well, I'm cool with it being here but I don't know if the rest of the guys will be."

"Rest of the...?"

Before I knew it, a slew of boys—men? students?—flooded into the apartment building, vaulting over the couch and brushing past me to go upstairs. They were all the same size and stature as him and for a second there, I was worried I would get trampled, so I stayed completely still, scrunching my face.

They were all carrying duffel bags and hockey sticks, dressed in Stratford jerseys and sweatpants. I put two and two together. When the dust settled was around the same time I realized I could ask them to help me carry the couch up, but they were already gone by then. I looked over at the guy and we seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"Do you think I could—"

"Hey, do you need—"

We chuckled, realizing we talked over each other. He said, "I got you." Then, he hollered up, "Hey! Sammo! Bowman! Could use a hand."

They spawned from above, almost racing each other to the bottom of the steps. I couldn't help but laugh at how rowdy they were.

"Oh, we got a new couch for the spot, eh?" asked Sammo, whose name was on his jersey. Bowman splayed across the couch for a laugh before hopping back up.

"This is..." the blonde guy looked over at me, furrowing his brow.

"Sonny. I'm Sonny," I smiled.

"Tim, you caught yourself a girl from down undah?" Sammo teased.

The blonde, who I knew now as Tim, continued. "....Sonny, and she needs our help carrying this to her apartment. Apartment...?"

"13."

"Damn. That's all the way at the end of the hall, isn't it?" Bowman asked.

"C'mon, boys. Sonny's new around here. Let's be polite and make her want to stay," Tim said. It was then that I noticed he also had a duffel bag and hockey sticks, which he set down outside. They each took a side and I went to lift my own, but I was met with a hand up from Sammo.

"Don't worry about this, me'lady. Don't want you liftin' up a finger." Sammo grinned.

So, I took careful steps behind them, figuring I shouldn't insist to be in the way, and watched them pivot with every bend of the staircase. This was a whole lot easier than careening this whole thing up myself. I wasn't sure what I was thinking when I let those movers leave.

Finally, they set the couch down in the middle of my room. It seemed to be no effort to them at all. I wore a warm smile.

"Thank you guys, so much," I said, holding my hands together.

"Ah, don't mention it. C'mon, Sammo, let's go." The pair left my place, and me and Tim, alone.

I chuckled, feeling a bit awkward. "You really saved the day," I said. "Sorry about that."

"Don't be sorry," he told me. "Looks like we were at the right place at the right time." He smiled. "Well, Sonny, it turns out I'm actually in the apartment right underneath you. Number six. So if you need anything else..."

A sort of dread filled my stomach. You could hear every step you took in this place thanks to the creaky wooden floors. I was already a bit worried about bothering my neighbors with my endless nights of sewing and my impromptu dance parties, now I had to think about not bothering Tim. Strange and yet adorable and super helpful Tim. I tried to hide how horrified I was with a smile right back.

"Cool. I'll keep that in mind," I said. "Thanks again, and, um, see ya around."

"See ya."

[piedpiperart]

Marked for Death pt 2

Chapter one

Tim woke up stiff and sore, but marginally better than yesterday. His foot was aching in particular, and he struggled to think about why until he remembered stepping on glass in the convenience store. He huffed, sitting up slowly and rubbing his eyes. Upon waking up, he was under the impression the whole turning into a child thing might’ve been a dream. It wasn’t. 

He stretched, pulling out a water bottle and one of the sandwiches out of his backpack. Taking a sip of water felt so good on his sore throat he nearly downed the rest of the bottle. Tim figured that his body was going through a lot of strain to shrink into a child, so he’d need to keep up his strength unless he wanted to get sick. With that in mind, he pulled out the sandwich and munched on it determinedly as he thought of his next steps. He was so immersed in his thoughts that he barely registered the taste of ham and cheese in his mouth.

The streets were less familiar to him, but he’d been in this area many times before. If he was remembering correctly, he could make his way back towards Steph’s house to the library. The computers there could give him access to the research on the men in black, his parent’s flight plans, and his backdoor into his parent’s accounts. After that he’d need to hack an ATM to get it to work without a physical card, but that was easy. 

Finishing off one half of the sandwich, he wrapped the other one up to store in his backpack. He didn’t feel like he could eat much through the nausea, but figured half a sandwich and some water was good enough. He breifly wondered how much six year olds usually ate in a day, and added it to his list of things to research. Tim took stock of himself, pulling off his boot to inspect the glass wound. It didn’t look too bad, not enough to need stitches, but still deep enough that the sock he used to dress it was bloody. He sighed, tossing the sock onto the dirty floor. He took the first aid kit out of his backpack and sighed at the measly supplies it held. Stupid convenience store supplies, Tim cursed, but applied two bandaids to it as best he could. No doubt they’d fall off as he kept walking, but it wsa better than nothing. And as much as he hated wearing shoes without socks, he didn’t have a whole lot of options. 

Tim pulled on his boots with a sigh, nearly falling off the restaurant booth he had slept on when he forgot how small he was. Stumbling to the rickety boarded up door, he ran through the route in his mind. Library first, then somewhere to get clothes. He was in Crime Alley right now, so he’d have to make a trip down to the more downtown areas if he didn’t want trouble finding shops. He certainly didn’t need to be walking around Crime Alley in daylight or at night. His tiny aching body wasn’t built for fighting just yet, and he amended his to-do list to include finding a weapon of some sort. 

Making it to the library wasn’t hard, just extremely tiring for a teen turned five years old. Or six. He still wasn’t sure and it was kind of bothering him now. Tim kept to the edges of the streets, but he found it was easier to be overlooked when he was so small. Then Tim realized that in order to blend in he’d actually have to act like a five year old. He sighed, heaving the gigantic library door open with his tiny, sore body. Upon entering he was met with a concerned look from a librarian with dirty blonde hair and a green cardigan, and remembered he’d also have to find a way to dodge CPS too. Tim took a breath but smiled at her anyway, making his way to the back where he was sure some old computers were sitting. 

The librarian stared at him until Tim gave her a cheery wave and beelined for a lone teen in one of the classics sections. He made his body language seem like he was going to greet the tall man with black hair, but instead reached for a book close by the man’s leg. Pretending to be interested in whatever book he picked up- Tim could see the cover with a hatchet on it, and found it was indeed called Hatchet- he could tell the teenager next to him had stopped to look down at him and give him more space. Good, Tim thought. 

Avoiding suspicion from the librarian so she wouldn’t call CPS had moved to number one on his priority. He hoped she’d think he was being supervised by the teen instead. “Nice shoes,”Tim heard a voice say and looked over to the teen. He was a lot taller than Tim, which made the six year old even more annoyed with his sudden change in height. The guy was looking at him with amusement, and something about him seemed familiar to Tim. 

Tim huffed, channeling his inner child. “They’re rain boots,”He corrected, putting the book back. 

“Ah, my bad,”The guy said, and Tim could hear the laughter in his voice. Tim scrunched up his nose at the guys own shoes, not really surprised to find boots. 

“Those are shoes,”Tim pointed, knowing full well they were not.

The guy took a moment to look at his own boots before saying,”Nah, these are boots too.”

Tim put on his best unimpressed look, crossing his arms for maximum effect. He pointed to his own sparkly frog boots. “Your’s are boring shoes. Boots have frogs,”Tim said, gesturing to the guy's lack of frogs decorating his boots.

The teen cracked a smile,”You’re right, I guess I don’t have frogs on my b- shoes,”Tim nodded, putting another book he’d grabbed and put it away in its correct spot and glancing at the librarian who had thankfully turned her attention away from him. “Need any help?”

Tim jumped, looking back at the teen, annoyance spiking as he had to crane his neck to see the stupid piece of white hair in the middle of the teens bangs. “With picking out a book?” The guy clarified when Tim just looked at him with big eyes. 

Resolutely, Tim shook his head. “I have homework. It was nice to meet you,”Tim lied before making his way out of the aisle and to the computers. The teen looked like he wanted to say something else but shook his head and went back to browsing the shelves. 

Sighing in relief, Tim sat down at a computer and made himself comfortable. He made sure to check on the teen and the librarian every few minutes in case they got ‘concerned for his well being’ or something just as ridiculous. Quickly, Tim went through the steps to get into his parents bank account and checked to see if his backdoor was still operational. He took a moment to reinforce it and make it easier for him to hack into an ATM later. He tried not to rush, but the people around would no doubt find something wrong with a lone child in clothes that didn’t fit him sooner rather than later. 

Despite his need to leave, Tim ended up looking up news on Tim Drake. Nothing yet. Which was good, probably. Tim wasn’t sure if he was relieved no one found him missing yet or disappointed. Logically he knew this would take a lot of time, but he couldn’t help but hope he’d be able to solve his body changing issue before anyone could figure out he was gone. That would be the ideal scenario. 

Tim sighed, logging out after covering his tracks. He kept an eye out for other people around and saw the teen from earlier had moved to a spot that made it easier to keep an eye on Tim. Frustration and annoyance grew in his chest, but he knew he’d probably do the same if he’d seen a small child alone. Shaking his head, he kept up his research, pulling up a kids video on math problems while he researched.. children. He wanted to know what age he was, what kind of food he should be eating, etc. Considering he couldn’t remember what he ate at this age. He hoped he was too old for baby food at least.

In the end he figured he was possibly younger than he thought. Tim figured it would be fine for him to refer to himself as a five year old though. Most of the things he’d looked into talked about how five year olds needed more social interaction and activities that help them with their coordination, which had Tim wanting to test out his level of coordination in case he’d ever have to do anything strenuous. Like running. He wasn’t naiive enough to think he could take someone in a fight. At least without a weapon. Tim was looking into aquiring a taser though, so he’d hope to be covered in that area soon enough. 

Other than that, Tim found that for his age he should aim for 1.5 servings of fruit, meats eggs or legumes, and dairy, 4.5 servings of veggies and grains, and a lot of water. Tim was pretty sure he’d never drank this much water as a five year old, but the amount reccommended was baffling. Tim was also frustrated that he’d need to cut back on energy drinks. Apparently caffiene can lead to high blood pressure, chronic kidney disease, or anxiety in kids, but Tim was reluctant to give it up for long. Even coffee wasn’t reccommended, which was Tim’s go to when he ran out of Zesti. 

Though, Tim was reluctant to follow this advice, because he was pretty sure when he was this age before he’d been drinking coffee and he’d turned out fine. Tim resolutely did not think about his height, and maintained the thought that he was just about to have a growth spurt before he got toddler-ified. 

 After slightly longer than he planned, Tim decided to skip looking into the Black Organization for when he had an untracable computer of his own. Glancing around, Tim stealthily made his way out of the library, hoping the teen wouldn’t follow him. He’d made sure to take some quick turns to discourage any tails before making his way to an ATM. 

Eventually, Tim was able to make his way to a lone ATM near some shady crates, and used his skills to hack into it for cash. His chest fluttered with nervousness as he stuffed a few twenty dollar bills into discrete parts of his clothes, making sure they were well hidden. Then, seeing as it was getting closer to rush hour he made his way quickly to a thrift shop Steph had taken him to before. There wasn’t much of a selection of kids clothes, but he was able to pick through some more girly clothes that seemed his size, a sewing kit, a thankfully unopened package of underwear, and a better first aid kit. 

Tim used his acting skills to pretend his parents were in the store next door as he passed the money to the worried cashier in exchange for the much needed supplies. He was most excited for the pants and socks, if he was honest. He kept the froggy boots, not wanting to waste money when he had perfectly good shoes, even if he felt bad for stealing them. He did want to find a laptop as soon as possible, but figured that would be a task for tomorrow. 

Unfortunately, he was still incredibly sore from the day before, and having a smaller body meant less stamina. Tim was pretty sure some coffee would fix that, but he wasn’t sure where to get one so late. His stomach grumbled and he ended up eating his other half of the sandwich on his way home. Again, being careful to avoid people, he managed to make it to his dusty hideout without any problems. 

The next two days continued like that, Tim going out every once in a while for more supplies or money. He’d been able to get a dingy laptop and fix it with some parts he found at the restaurant he was hiding in. Hunting down the Black Organization is more difficult than he would have thought, but he’d found out a bunch of different encryptions online, but the organization was frustratingly careful not to put down too many details on their communication lines. The only ones he were able to get ahold of for now were the two in Gotham, which is what he knew to look for in the first place. He’d found them by coding keywords into a program so when either of the two men talked about plans this week, batman, robin, Tim Drake, etc. he would have their communication line. He’d hoped to get the rest of their organization from their other communication lines but they’d only had burner phones that Tim could access. Which meant this organization was careful and smart. Tim could feel dread build up in him at the thought. Who knows how long this organization has been around for this much secrecy to build up around it. 

Still, even if Tim wasn’t able to access much, he learned the two men who’d shrunken him went by Gin and Vodka. Apparently, everyone in the organization went by drink names, which Tim thought was super lame. He had a few leads on the toxin and other members from tracking down any liquor names tied to certain events, but it looked like Gin and Vodka were in Gotham because of some weapons deal going down in a week.  

Tim speculated that they wanted Batman distracted so they’d be free to move their weapons. He grimaced as he took a sip of his water bottle, wishing for his familiar energy drink, but not wanting to give his smaller form a heart attack. With Red Hood in the area though, the teen turned toddler wasn’t so sure that Gin and Vodka’s plans would work out. After living in Crime Alley for a week now, Tim was able to pick up the local gossip, and it seemed like Red Hood wasn’t just the murderer Bruce had made him out to be. 

Red Hood had taken control over the local gangs, and changed the system from inside. Now, there were rules and protections for kids and sex workers. Of course Tim had picked up on Hood’s policies surrounding kids, which waqs a relief as he was now very much a small kid in Crime Alley. Overall, Crime Alley was getting safer every day, and a lot of people were glad Red Hood used guns to get rid of the worst criminals for good. Even Tim could understand not wanting those types of people out there. He shuddered, thinking of two pairs of shiny black shoes walking away from his soon to be dead body. 

So, considering Tim didn’t go to school anymore and had ample time to gather information and gossip while he survived on the streets, he’d been sending Red Hood tips. He knew it might be a bad idea if Hood ever figured out who he was, but Tim wasn’t stupid. Starting out small, he gave Hood info on small time crimes by hacking into his systems- which were surprisingly easy for Tim to find- and sending texts to Hood’s phone. Ignoring all of Red Hood’s attempts to contact him back, Tim slowly provided Hood with more useful information like gang activity or rogues leading up to the end of the week. 

Tim needed to establish contact soon, and started off on Tuesday with small bits of info, first regarding a drug deal close to an elementary school, and then the location of some guy with an escalating history of abusing street workers. Tim was bored, unable to leave the restaurant for long periods of time, and his only source of entertainment was whatever he could find on the internet, searching for the Organization, or pestering Hood. He was not ashamed to admit the amount of texts and emails he’d sent Hood this week. And sure, the guy had responded, but Tim hadn’t replied. 

Hood’s responses ranged from curse words, begrudging thanks, threats, and requests to meet. None of which Tim cared much about, but it was fun to banter with him every once in a while. Given that Tim couldn’t use Robin as his alias, or anything close to Tim Drake, he’d come up with Mycroft as a pseudonym for himself. Tim didn’t expect this to last, but he’d chosen it because Mycroft Holmes was always the ‘all seeing eye’, or ‘Big brother’ in the Sherlock Holmes novels. While Sherlock would always be Tim’s personal favorite character, he’d chosen Mycroft because he’d essentially be Red Hood’s sources of various info and advice over this period of time. Generally, Tim’s advice had been a few coding tips to better his systems, but also sometimes just notes to annoy the guy. Much like Mycroft would do, so Tim felt the nickname was appropriate. In addition, Tim thought it would be better to stick to a theme regarding his smaller form, and named himself Conan to keep Tim Drake dead. For now. 

Tim was pretty sure he’d gained Hood’s trust so far, despite the multitude of cuss words from the man every time Tim sent him a message, so he’d finally sent all the information he had on the weapons deal the Black Organization was trying to hide from Batman. Something about guns that could pierce through kevlar, which wouldn’t be good for the superheroes without superpowers. Or anyone, really. 

From what Tim could find through Gin and Vodka’s phones he was able to access nearby equipment, and snagged a laptop. It showed the weapon blueprints, and other potential poisons their Organization dealt with. Tim wasn’t sure if there was a poison expert on their team, or if they were just tasked with running trial runs while they were out and about, but Tim was able to narrow down his own toxin to one called APTX-4869. Tim nearly had a panic attack reading up on the drug, but he managed to copy a file stating the effects- disintegration. Tim was horrified to learn that he would have been disintegrated if not for the faulty drug. He double checked their servers, but couldn’t find anything regarding de-age effects. 

Frustratingly, the Organization must have had a hacker on their side because Tim caught on to someone searching through the area’s Tim had been through before he had to cover his tracks and exit the program. He didn’t dare go back on their servers, but figured he might send Babs the info if things went well this next week. 

Tim was pretty sure Hood was trying to locate him, though Tim’s computer skills definitely outranked Hoods. The guy specialized in strategy, violence, and most important- information networks from the streets of Crime Alley. Unlucky for Hood though, no one would suspect a five year old street rat to be handing Red Hood cases and tips. Having Mycroft as his alias also created the illusion that Tim was older and more powerful than he actually was. The thought made Tim laugh lightly as he sat at his favorite booth in the dusty old restaurant that had become his home for the past week. 

Either way, Hood wouldn’t suspect Tim, even if he saw Tim doing something suspicious. Which, he had to admit he was, most of the time. No one had reported Tim Drake missing yet, the Bats were still going on regular patrols, and his parents were still out of the country. As frustrating as it was to not be any closer to finding an antidote, Tim was relieved that everyone else was going about their lives like normal. He’d worried that Batman might be distracted on patrol if he knew Tim was… dead? Missing? Tim wasn’t sure what they’d think when they found out, but Tim hoped that he’d be a teenager again soon enough that he didn’t have to worry about that. But it was slow going.

Thus, Tim spent most of his time obsessing over the Black Organization and gathering intel from around Crime Alley for Red Hood. Spending all that time alone made him feel pretty lonely though, and he’d stared a bit too hard at a playground full of other kids last time he’d been around the area. He couldn’t risk being caught by CPS though, he needed to stay hidden. It was almost time for Gin and Vodka’s deal going down, and Tim was preparing himself for a stakeout of his own. 

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

Jason was angry. 

No, he was frustrated. And annoyed. It was a little strange, not being angry as often as he was used to after the Pit. Ever since that stupid little hacker came into his life, he found himself reigning in his temper a bit more. At first, he had to admit, he’d seen green more than once when the messages showed up on his devices, but now he just rolled his eyes when he heard the familiar ping that signaled his informant texting him. 

Mycroft. It was clearly an alias meant to show their motives and resources to Jason, and he reluctantly followed the guys tips and advice. Surprisingly, the guy saved Jason a whole lot of time by bringing the information straight to Red Hood, leaving Jason with more time to patrol. And as infuriating as Mycroft was, the guy was pretty accurate on his intel. Granted, Jason was still suspicious. As much as he’d tried to track the guy, he’d only figured out his general area. In Gotham. What a surprise, Jason had scoffed. 

It was obvious, how Mycroft had attempted to gain his trust through a series of smaller tips and gradually built up to the most recent case. Weapons. Jason was surprised to find a lot of information regarding the products and buyers, but not much on the suppliers. His informant had even given him a report on the ‘Organization’, regarding their possible motives, members, history, and how to identify members. Mycroft had emphasized caution when dealing with them, so at least Jason knew he wouldn’t be running into a trap. Mycroft clearly wanted him as prepared as possible to face these guys. Jason was even surprised to note that the Organization had planned for a distraction to lure Batman away from their operation. That caught Jason’s attention the most. 

The crime lord definitely didn’t have any reason to trust Mycroft, but he could recognize an alliance when he saw one. Clearly Mycroft has been after the Organization, but needed Jason to do the physical work. Which, Jason was fine with, at least for now. He could see how having those weapons around his territory could end badly for him. He’d follow Mycroft’s lead for now, but since he knew his informant’s main target…

Jason’s so much closer to catching him.

Chapter three

[fangedbats]

“ in the end “

characters: dick grayson & jason todd

warnings: canon typical violence, swearing, open ending (i swear one of these days there will be a complete ending. but that day is not today.)

word count: 706

authors note: this took way too long to write omg, hope y’all enjoy!! also i have not made hot chocolate in ages so yeah that entire process is probably wrong-

Dick pulled himself up the fire escape with a low groan. He had been unlucky enough to be the only one there while Killer Croc had escaped Arkham. At least initially.

Backup had quickly arrived in the form of Orphan and Red Hood. The others had been trying to calm Ivy down from where she was rampaging downtown. Dick was faintly aware that Tim had gotten a face full of cuddle pollen during the fight, if only because Steph had sent him a picture of Tim wrapped around Bruce like a koala.

He slid his window open with a wince. It turns out that getting tossed onto a dinner’s roof and not sticking the landing wasn’t good for one’s muscles. Who would’ve thought?

Dick ignored the pain lacing his arm, at least for a moment. Orphan had carefully looked him over after the fight, and she had determined that he most likely had pulled a muscle. No broken bones or sprains.

Jason had stuck around for a moment, long enough to let Cassandra see him uninjured, before he left. Most likely heading towards one of his many safe houses in the area.

Apparently not.

Dick froze, halfway through the window. Jason’s helmet glared back at him, the red paint still surprisingly reflective even in the low light.

He finished pulling himself through the window, lest his neighbors saw something. Looking at the helmet that sat on his coffee table warily.

It wasn’t like Dick wasn’t happy to see Jason. But after a large fight like that everyone usually went their separate ways for at least a couple hours. And as much as he loved his family it was necessary in order to recharge properly.

“Jason?” He called out into the stillness of the apartment. There was no immediate answer.

Tensing, he drew his escrima sticks from their place at his back. He moved slowly through the apartment, knowing where to avoid for a silent approach.

He saw movement out of the corner of his eye. He spun, one of his escrima sticks already being thrown at the target. Hoping to catch them off balance.

He heard a shout of surprise and paused. Something about that voice was awfully familiar.

“What the fuck Dickhead?!” There it was. Dick sighed, walking over to retrieve his weapon off of the floor.

“No it’s Santa Clause.” Dick deadpans, “Yes it’s me.”

He flops onto the couch with a groan, the movement jostling his sore arms. And legs. His whole body really was unnecessarily sore.

Jason scoffs. He’s still hovering in the doorway between the kitchen and the living room. Dick gestures widely towards the couches, “You come here for a reason or just to get your ass kicked?”

“Like you could do that. You’re moving worse than Alfred in the winter.” Jason retorts as he goes to sit.

He grumbles something under his breath as he walks past the other man and into the kitchen. Dick can hear the floorboards cream as Jason rises and follows.

Dick hums, starting the process for hot chocolate. Without asking he knows to make enough for two.

“So. What’s up?” He says bluntly, leaning against the counter while he waits for the ingredients to come to a boil. “Usually after a big fight like that you’d be holed up in a safe house somewhere and we wouldn’t see you for three weeks.” He observes.

Dick doesn’t want to scare him off, Jason came to him for a reason. But he can’t be too “mushy” as, Jason had so kindly said before, that was a sure-fire way to have Jason go back to avoiding him after a fight.

“Yeah.” Jason agrees absently as he stirs the pot. “Something popped up. Shouldn’t be alone cause of the Pit and all that stuff.”

He bites his lip, a nervous habit he had never quite grown out of.

“Don’t wanna accidentally hurt someone. It’s bad.” He admits.

Dick nods solemnly. He knew that Jason had a good handle on the Pit now, but he also knew that progress wasn’t linear and he was bound to have setbacks.

“Ok. How about we finish this hot chocolate, then we watch a movie? Anything you want?” He offers, taking a step closer to the stove. Testing how well Jason is with people in his space right now.

Jason shifts when he gets closer, but he doesn’t move away.

“Yeah. That would be nice.” Jason agrees, meeting his eyes. “Thanks Big Bird.”

Dick nods, turning the stove off and preparing the mugs.

“Anytime Little Wing. Anytime.”

[purposefully-lost]

Chris woke up with the book still gripped to her chest. Her face felt sticky and all of her felt dirty. Greasy, like she'd sweated through the night under the covers she'd eventually pulled up over her head. She looked down at the book as she sat up, then felt her heart drop, her eyes widening as she reached out to quickly try and straighten a couple of pages that had gotten crumpled in her sleep. It felt like there was something stuck in her throat as she got up and carefully returned it to its place on her shelf. There was a shake in her limbs and a lightness to her head that left her wondering if she hadn't somehow cried herself sick.

She found her way to the shower, then back to her room, sitting on the bed and staring idly at the wall while she tried to figure out why it seemed like there was somewhere she should be. She realized soon enough that it was because there was, she was supposed to getting ready and waiting on Andy to come pick her up. They'd planned on lunch, then on.. anything, really. The ice rink downtown had opened and yesterday they'd tossed around the idea of heading there, taking a walk and skating and then finding anything else to stick their noses into. Figuring he wouldn't be coming, she let herself fall back to bed and tried again to sleep it all off.

----

It was the last day of Andy's stay before he was heading back to college. His parents had some holiday gala tonight, which he'd planned on skipping out on entirely after the mess that had happened last year. Chris knew that, because she'd planned on going over to his house while his parents were out. They'd had the chance for one more night together before school pulled him away again and they'd planned on taking it. Especially since there was the major leagues to consider, too. He'd be eligible to be drafted soon enough and she didn't doubt that he'd be the newest fan favorite on the field, with all his time dedicated to practice and a new social circle. He was too charming not to be.

Chris sat on the couch downstairs. The TV was on but she wasn't really watching it, her mind instead stuck on stupid Andy Campbell. Just as it had been for three days now while she'd tried to make it through the empty days of the break without him. It shouldn't be hard, she'd survived almost sixteen years without him in her life, but he was all she could think about. She'd even tried to call Steph to see if she couldn't make other plans and the girl had ended up asking her about Andy, because of course she did, and she was busy herself anyway. So it was back to staring at a screen and seeing nothing, her mind running through a year and a half's worth of friendship and trying to puzzle out what had been real and what was fake.

Offering her companionship in her grief- that hadn't been real, right? That'd been looking for pity. Giving her his number, calling her just to chat with her... she couldn't figure out what that was. Taking her to prom and to the gala, lying his ass off to say she'd looked anything more than awkward and ungainly, maybe as a joke for his shitty friends. Driving out of his way to come get her when she was drunk, not because she'd asked but because he'd seemed worried, helping her get up stairs and get changed into something comfortable. The breakfast in the morning, the bright grins when he caught her at his college games, the quiet honesty when he'd first admitted his preference for men. The small, curious smile on his face when he'd asked, just a few nights ago, so, if you're not sure if you're a girl..

He was the only one who knew about that. The only one who knew that she was considering anything different, even if she herself wasn't quite sure yet. She wrapped her arms around herself, finding that at some point her gaze had drifted from the TV to the fabric of the couch and had started to blur. She only had one real, exceptionally close friend. There was Steph and a couple of others on the basketball team that she liked, there was another member of the yearbook club that she was friendly with, but no one knew her like Andy did. The thought made her want to vomit. Feeling another hot spark of anger in her chest, she pushed herself off the couch and stormed upstairs, pausing in front of the wall above her bed that she'd pinned with photos over the years. She hadn't looked at it in three days, but now she could see the small collection that had started to grow of Andy. Andy on the field, Andy with cake smeared on his suit, Andy laughing himself to tears next to her over a joke she hardly remembered. Andy with a grin that she now recognized as being fake, closer to a snarl than to a smile, his bat raised above his shoulder with the dark baseball field out of focus behind him. You're friends with Jonathan, right? Chris wished she'd spat on him when he'd asked that. She did the second best thing she could now in tearing the picture down and ripping it in half, not at all finding the tangible relief she'd wanted in how easily it split. With a frustrated yell she crumpled it and threw it, kicking hard at the camera bag sitting next to her bed just for good measure. Fuck Andrew Campbell. Her vision was starting to blur as she kicked it again and broke into a quiet sob.

Andy had wrapped an arm around her shoulders, the last time she'd cried like this before she'd stormed out on him. He'd pulled her to his chest and pressed his lips to her temple, holding her until it was over. They'd been at someone else's house in someone else's bathroom, listening while everyone else outside celebrated the most recent win for his hockey team. He should've been out there with them. She hadn't needed to be driven home that night, but he'd still called almost the moment she'd walked in the door, and again in the morning. Chris choked, sitting down on her bed. Fuck Andy! For everything he'd done, fuck him.

---

---

---

Andy's car was still in his parents' driveway. She'd almost expected it to be gone; either dragged off to the gala or already headed back to college with nothing else for him to do tonight. But there it was, just as real when she pulled up to it as it'd been when she'd glimpsed it down the street. Her heart in her throat, Chris pushed out of her own car and started up to the front door, shivering a little against the cold. She'd forgotten to grab a jacket as she'd left, too caught up in her own head, so she hoped that if Andy sent her off, he'd at least do it quick. Stepping up to the porch, she forewent using the doorbell to knock against the door.

It took a few moments, long enough that she reached up and knocked again, a little harder. It occurred to her that maybe he'd seen her from a window and was choosing to ignore her, but she wasn't going to let him do that. If she had to, she knew where the spare key was hidden, and she wasn't afraid of storming in to see him. Finally, though, the door opened, and every half-assed plan she'd had went right out of the window. He looked.. bad.

Scared, on the edge of panic, the same kind of look she'd gotten when she'd first torn away from him to yell. Blue eyes looked over her from above a soft pout, his expression twisting a little as he seemed to take her in. She knew she wasn't in the best condition, either; in a baggy t-shirt and a pair of fuzzy, pawprint-patterned pants that made up last night's pajamas, her hair greasy and uncombed. Andy seemed to swallow. "Chris.."

"Oh, fuck you!" It wasn't what she'd planned to say, but it'd been on her mind for days. Before she could take the time to read the hurt in his expression or examine the way he seemed to step back, she was reaching out to pull him down to her. She jerked him close, shaking as she felt his hands tentatively land on her back, then suddenly wrap around her in a crushing hug. They stumbled a little together to find their balance on the threshold, but neither of them let up on the tight hold they had on each other. She felt more than heard him break into a soft sob, his face burying against her neck. Squeezing her eyes shut, she dug her hands into his shirt. He'd held her so many times when she cried, and she'd always tried to return the favor, but right now there was such a sharp ache in her heart that she thought it might start to burn if she even considered letting go of him. "Andy.. I- I'm--"

He shook his head, still hidden against her. All the frustration and the grief and the pure, hot anger that'd been building in her chest for the past few days started to bubble over again, her eyes filling tears as she choked out a cry against him. Andy squeezed her even harder, to the point she wasn't even sure she could breathe, and she tried to return it. She reached up to push a hand into his hair, holding him against her. "Andy, I'm sorry," she finally managed. He shook his head again, unaccepting, and she could've throttled him for it if she wasn't already holding him as tightly as she could. "N- No, I am!" She tried to say. Her voice was thick, the tears heavy. "I- I should'n't've.. it's not your fault. It's not your fault, it- it's not your fault, it's.." She kept babbling until his hand rubbed at her shoulder and his voice finally cut through, just as thick and rough as her own. She wondered if he'd been crying throughout the past few days, too.

"Chris, please.." He turned his head to rest on her shoulder and she could still feel his heartbeat trembling against her own. They were swaying together, each trying to offer comfort, though she wasn't sure who had started it. Andy squeezed at her again. "I'm sorry.." He said softly. "Chris, I'm so sorry. I- I was so.. I was scared, and you're.. you're right to say what you did and--"

"Shut the fuck up!" She almost yelled it against him, then laughed, just a little bit. It was a necessary kind of release and she could feel Andy's chest shaking when he laughed, too. He swayed her and together, they stumbled a few steps until they were leaning against the doorway, both still choking through tears and wholly reluctant to let go. Andy hid his face against her once more.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"I know."

Andy sniffled. His hand rubbed down her back and she felt his head lift, realizing he was probably looking to the street behind them. They'd been crying on his parents' front porch, and if any of the neighbors were watching, it was probably going to make for good gossip. He took in a shaky breath and pulled away from her. His face was red and tear-streaked and he could only seem to hold her gaze for a moment before he was tugging her inside and shutting the door behind him. Before he could go any further, she grabbed him and pulled him close again.

They stood that way for a few long moments, still trying to gather themselves and failing miserably. They were both trembling so hard that she thought they'd have to sit down, soon. Forcing herself to finally let go, she looked up at him again, taking in a deeply sad gaze that was riddled with guilt. He still wasn't meeting her eyes, so she tugged gently at his arm to try and get him to look. She could've burst into another sob when he finally did.

God, it really wasn't his fault, was it? Not in the way she'd blamed him a few days ago. He'd fucked up bad and it wasn't her place to forgive him for it, but... there was no one else. No one else in the world who'd loved Jack. They had to hold onto each other. She leaned against him, feeling his hands squeeze at her again and struggling with the thought that they'd once caused Jack so much pain. "Andy.." She started softly. "We're still friends, right?"

He shuddered in a way that told her he'd just started crying again. A nose pressed into her hair while arms squeezed her tight. "Y- yeah, yeah, Chris. ..I wanna be."

She nodded. Then she closed her eyes, just trying to breathe with him. "Do you.. think your parents will be mad if I stay the night?"

Andy laughed a little, uneven and breathless. He turned so his cheek was pressed to the top of her head. "Probably."

"Can I?"

"Sure." He pulled back, pressed his lips to her forehead before he stepped away entirely. This time, he met her eyes. She smiled, just for a moment, while his eyes searched over her. "..You kinda look like shit, Prescott."

"Compared to you, I think I'm ready to crash your parents' stupid party. Asshole." The guilt in his gaze returned a little bit at the insult, at least until she rolled her eyes and gently shoved him. "Come on," she said, starting to move towards the kitchen. "I'm starving."

"You come all this way just to raid the kitchen?"

"Maybe." She glanced back at him. There was a small, uneasy smile on his face, but it was a smile nonetheless. A real one, the kind that came naturally. She smiled back. They were gonna have to be alright with each other, and she was sort of okay with that. After a moment's hesitation, she held out her hand. "You coming?"

A beat. Then he nodded, a warm hand reaching out to grasp at hers. She didn't let go of it until they'd ended up on the couch again, where she could lean against his shoulder and listen to every quiet breath from his lungs. She closed her eyes and felt something sharp spike into her heart, aching deep. She hoped Jack would forgive her for still being his friend-- and some part of her hoped he might forgive Andy too. One day, when he came home alive. Her breath hitched and she felt an arm wrap around her shoulders. It was a stupid, naive fantasy and she knew it, but she could hold onto it for just a little bit longer. Just until it hurt less to say goodbye.

[formulaforza]

mack, tell me about “moonlight, becomes you” please! it wasn’t the most popular choice when you were making polls about what to post next which is a downright shame because just the title is beautiful already :( i wanted to cast my vote for that option tenfold but alas…… but i haven’t gotten over it and i still hope you will decide to post it at some point. you excel at setting a soft, dreamy, domestic atmosphere with your writing <3

moonlight becomes you is from my era of listening exclusively to oldies because I think they make love seem so simple and sweet.

info on: moonlight, becomes you

pairing: charles leclerc x female reader media type: one shot summ. endings and beginnings with charles. the more things change the more they stay the same. current word count: 2k last edited: July 14, 2023

snippet:

You’re not exactly sure how it got from there to where it is now, but it was some strange combination of Instagram DMs to make sure you didn’t want the pencil back, math notes exchanges because he was never in class, “tutoring” because he needed volunteer hours to make up for his D- in History (physics is my strong suit, he always said) and because you really needed the help in math. It was tutoring and then it was the end of the term and then it was just a friendship.

[willowdied]

today has been nothing short of hell- or well fuck this whole week has been nothing short of hell. it has been test after test after test, project, pop-quiz, whatever the fuck happening in every single class which meant little to no time with her boyfriend which meant to she had been stressed which meant she was tanking everything which meant that un-fucking-fortunatly she was grounded for the rest of the month. no parties, which truthfully, she was not that worried about that. she has her drivers license now, she can do pretty much anything she sets her mind to once she gets her hands on the car keys and she can sneak out or someone can pick her up but what did suck was that she was going to miss the only thing she was and had been looking forward to, mama mia.

she was coming to realize from the reports and the sound of her father's singing echoing the house that maybe that was not so much of a bad thing.

-it was a miracle that she had managed to sneak out of the house with her backpack in the first place- another miracle that she had managed to grab her father's pistol on the way out ( or lucky as shit as she would say- steph did not believe in miracles ) starting to head downtown had lead to her ducking into alleyways to avoid and observe those singing mobs, trying to figure out what in the fuck was going on.

she was not expecting a voice to come from the garbage can though, talking, thank fuck, but a voice all the same.

@snaptwice , ted called " put the gun down , and kick it over here . " and steph cursed, turning around and pointing the gun threateningly though she is sure her eyes look far from calm, but far from confident. she's scared. that fear went away as she comes face to face with someone she had not met, but someone who she recognized all the same from both pictures and stories. " you're pete's- " the gun lowers but she does not fully drop the gun- not the smartest idea, she can hear people behind him, he had a group, somewhere behind him or further in the alley, she wasn't looking, she was not worried, she was impulsive.

" i know how to use this and it's mine so you know i think the fuck not. " she tucks it into her front pocket and raised her hands. " i'm a... friend- " there's question and hesitance in her voice, hesitance and a brief pause, but she continued. " of your brothers. is he with you? "

[dine-on-nervine]

still missing the Editable Reblogs thing

Did you know that all the fish are dying out? I thought that was bananas they were talking about.

Would you ever wear a white tuxedo? Sounds impractical if were an outdoor event (and I tend to be the one crawling to plug stuff in) but hey, there might be an occasion.

Do you judge a book by its cover? In people, it happens. In other things, I keep in mind that package design is an artform and not everyone has that skill. Fonts and colors matter!

Do you like chips and dips? Absolutely.

Last time you went on a rollercoaster: Been years.

Ever been to a pottery class? I have not but I'd be game. Seems more something that interested me as a teenager than now though.

Does your milkshake bring all the boys to the yard? Ha, no. << You might if you opened a Dairy Queen, Steph. :) I don't want boys in my yard, I live in a rental and am a straight male.

Who was the last person to stay over at your house? Tanya. Who will be back this Saturday.

Do you like red lipstick? Not really, no. Red is still more tolerable than most other colors, but I really prefer uncolored lips if I'm gonna be smooching them.

Can you recall your country’s national anthem? Was just having that conversation with my girlfriend -- how there can be a song or speech you knew before junior high that you can still pull from the depths of your brain decades later. So yes.

Do you believe in ghosts? I think there are spirits but not in a "boo!" way.

Which sweets/candy would you put into your dream pic'n'mix? Peanut M&Ms and Haggen's bridge mix.

If you had a boat, where would you sail in your boat? For nostalgia's sake, Lake Rimrock. But I'm not much of a boater.

Can you rap? I stutter and stumble even when I speak at regular pace.

Are you a light sleeper? Can be, but otherwise when I go to bed I'm out cold.

When you were young, did you ever pretend to “marry” somebody? This wasn't on my agenda.

What is your favourite Disney film? I don't claim to have one.

Do you prefer brown or white bread? Brown, with plenty of other stuff in it. Just straight brown like honey wheat always tastes like it's dried out.

Have you ever spent an entire day in bed? It's been awhile. I could have done that today but...

Don’t you just find it annoying when people get too much plastic surgery? Happily most of those people are far from my orbit. I think it's silly when I see some person who has had Too Much Work Done because they typically look far worse than whatever they would have looked like naturally.

How high’s your pain threshold? Not very high at all.

What would you wear to a red carpet event? Shoes. Don't want to get footprints on it.

Whose birthday is next, out of all the people you know? Tanya's is in a week or two.

What kind of coat are you going to wear in the winter? I just have this brown coat from Costco that does what it needs to.

Did you ever go through a Goth phase? I was from a small town, but I had a phase where I hung out with goths in other towns for being different. I preferred being an ally to being a member, mostly because I like the music in small doses.

Do you find architecture interesting? Quite interesting sometimes. Not so much the classical but what's downtown... questions about the past come to mind.

When on the computer do you ever think about how it all works? I think about when it doesn't work and how to fix it.

How many songs are there in your iTunes library? I don't put music into it, I just use the software to load the iPods.

Describe the worst date you’ve ever been on: I have been on some lousy ones but I can't say they've been epicly bad, not the sort of bad dates that make Reddit posts. I will toss out the first one that comes to mind -- the chick that left me at the table to order drinks while she "went to the restroom" and snuck out. Happily the service was terrible that evening so no drinks got ordered before I realized she wasn't coming back and had blocked me.

When did you last go to the park? I took Tanya to Point Defiance Park a couple weeks ago. Didn't get out of the car but the question says "when did you last go to the park?" and that's when I went to the park.

Which two animals would you breed together to make a hybrid? Frog and duck.

Do you ever forget how to walk? I can't walk, soooo. << ohhh!!! It happens, or rather my legs stay down while my body gets up.

Do you own a Jesus bracelet? I do not.

How far out can you stick your tongue? Bend over and take a measurement.

Do you like David Bowie? I do like some, but I don't really call myself much of a fan. My bestie is a fan so I've heard a lot, a quantity of it repeated a few times (thank you "Scary Monsters"), but if I have to name a couple songs I like they would be the Let's Dance edition of "Cat People (Putting Out Fire)" due to that slammin' guitar by Stevie Ray Vaughn... and "Heroes".

Would you eat a live cockroach if it made you a millionaire? Gross as that is, a million smackers...

Does it annoy you when you feel like people aren’t really listening? I had that discussion with Tanya yesterday. Brief synopsis is that she has this thing where she doesn't know when to stop talking / how to end a conversation, so I am often guilty of sitting there letting her go on and on and then when she stops I am at a loss for what to say. I told her I am working on this and it does not mean I wasn't listening, I just don't know what to say in response and if I had a thought while she was speaking of what I want to say I have forgotten it by then.

Are you the type who usually plays it safe? Usually. I take some risks if there's a reason.

Do you want what you can’t have? Constantly. Not in a painful way (anymore) but I am aware of my desires and I am aware of my ability to get them, and I am aware also that life goes on and I do have my own set of blessings.

Ever been copied by somebody, clothing or style-wise? Actually, it's been awhile but yes.

Is there a point to clear nail varnish? It keeps ink off the wood portion of the bottom of a rubberstamp, that's why I own one bottle. I am also told it protects the nails.

What is the latest time you’ve ever woken up? Seven pee-em.

Ever gotten into trouble over something you didn’t really do? It has happened. And my boss presumes that if an item at the store was not put away correctly that I might know something about it, and half the time that's not the case. Oh, prime example from last Saturday: Customer ordered six of these plumbing stem pullers and on Thursday we were shipped nine, with the other three going to the empty peg. I took the box, put it on the receiving desk, wrote what is in it on it, told the assistant receiver (who had been asking me for a couple hours if I had found it!) that here it is, put the other three where they belong and I went about my merry way. Boss takes me to that peg on Saturday to ask why I didn't pull that special order. I had no idea what he was talking about, so told him I knew there was a special order for 6 stem pullers so put them on the desk, the assistant knew this, etc. Turns out someone took that box off the receiving desk and put it on the top shelf over where the item belongs... Oh!! Not me, chief! And then that helpful soul didn't put anything else that needed to actually be put away out. Which I also heard about, since apparently I am in charge of everything even though he acknowledged there were two people in on both Thursday and Friday who stock that clearly did not stock.

Are you currently ill? Not really.

Don’t you just hate being corrected? Depends upon what it is and how it's being done. And, of course, whether the thing I am being corrected on is actually wrong, since some people will speak without confirming they're right first.

Are there any really beautiful buildings close to where you live? My present neighborhood, not really. But a mile away down the road in either direction both have rich histories.

Who do you think about most? Boobies.

Do you have embarrasing parents? I guess not really, now, but I haven't been a teen in ages.

How often do you use the word “poltent”? Never, since I don't know it. Looked it up, and it appears to be a Polish word meaning aesthetic... there's a facial product and an advertising agency by that name.

How’s your grandmother? Both are dead. So they're doing just fine now.

What in your opinion is the most annoying noise in the world? [smiles at that scene from Dumb & Dumber where one of the brothers asks that question then screeches] I don't know for sure, there are a lot of sounds that I can do without. I will admit -- and I hope you're not reading this, Tanya -- that there's this sound my girlfriend has on her sleep noise generator app, one she has been using for years but doesn't play when I'm there, that combines television white noise with a rainfall. Individually I might be able to sleep with either, moreso the rain than the white noise since my head says "turn off the TV" when I hear it, but them together I was kind of twitching at because it was... "impure nature" to me, like if you were too close to a humming power station located near woods.

Are you any good at writing? I do my best.

Can you speak any Spanish? Not good at speaking it.

What’s your favourite type of cloud? Altocumulus or cirrus.

What’s something that really matters to you? My leisure time and the ability to afford it.

Did that pass some time? I should have been in the shower an hour ago so yes.

[lifewithoutmeds]

February 26, 2024

feeling better, in general, about things, thankfully.

quick ... month's recap: Monday, February 5th: went to visit caroline in the hospital. also met up with grace, her husband, and patrick. grace brought delicious burritos from sonoratown and we chatted with caroline as if things were normal despite the fact that she had had a seizure, was hospitalized, and more recently, we learned that she had a large brain tumor that would likely need removing. i teared up seeing her in the hospital bed, in the hospital gown, but i eventually was able to stop. Tuesday, February 6th: Lorena swung by on the way to work and we chatted and caught up a bit. Later that day i went to a 6:30 showing of Poor Things at the local theater which i didn't love, but am still glad i saw, just to see. Wednesday, February 7th: In the office. It says ... lunch with Lana. what did we eat? Hmm, strangely no idea.

Friday, February 9th: Doctor's appointment, dinner with Lana, as she swung by with fish king poke and salads and we ate a nice healthy protein-filled dinner. then we ubered to Hot Goss in ... Cypress? and we watched Sophie Santos again and some other queer or allied stand up comedians, and it was great. i a bit avoided sophie as i had recently learned that she was in a serious relationship with a very reputable and older director, and so i wanted to stay out of the way, out of respect.

Saturday, February 10th: Matt K came over with some e-waste and we dropped it off in sunland, then went to Barcade to meet up with his friends, and then i rushed home to sprint out again for a speed dating event downtown. traffic and parking was horrible, but i met up with steph, met some nice people, and then we kinda went to town, eating at sushi gen, and then winding up at Eighty-Two, drinking too much, and making a new friend, who in retrospect I don't think i care to keep in touch with. Sunday, February 11th: No church as I was just too tired to do anything. Probably did nothing the whole day and regretted how a few hours of fun at night did not equate the entire waste of the subsequent day. Monday, February 12th: worked from home, then went to CVS to pick up photos of Rafa for grace's surprise visit. Wednesday, February 14th: In office.

Thursday, February 15th to Tuesday, February 20th: a whirlwind of airbnb's, hotels, meeting up with grace, her family, and her friends, antoinette, her family, and her friends. lugging a heavy duffel bag everywhere, taking endless subways and buses, taking my heavy jacket on and off, sweating, then shivering. there was some fun, but more crying, which i'm a bit too tired to get into at the moment and which i've rehashed enough to kind of be over talking about for now. i also watched three episodes of The Curse, and decided to watch it once i got home, even though it meant subscribing to the Paramount Plus channel. Wednesday, February 21st: In office Thursday, February 22nd: Dr. Sobhani appointment at lunch and Kelda afterwork. Dr. Sobhani was rather pleased at my progress so we pushed our next appointment out further than usual. i also felt some progress with kelda and i was calmer than usual, which was nice.

Saturday, February 24th: Just slept, for hours and hours. i think my mom briefly came over with some bread/pastries, and i ate it, chatted a bit, then went back to sleep. i felt a bit bad that i wasn't productive and didn't check off anything on my list, but i also felt that i really needed rest, and that my past week had been super draining and i kind of enjoyed just lounging about, knowing i had no real responsibilities, and zoning out to meaningless things on youtube.

sunday (yesterday), i didn't end up going to church, but a bit at the last minute, hung out with tracy, who is still reeling from the unexpected passing of her mom. she picked me up as i've been having car trouble, we went to Gap outlet in burbank so she could return something, meandered about the mall, did a brief hike nearby, and then got some sugarcane drinks and wandered a bit before she dropped me back off. it was weirdly ... like comfortable, and not stressful. it was ... easy. i think there are so few people i can be like that with. lana. maybe nida. and i guess her, which is weird because we've known each other for just under a year but somehow we're pretty similar and/or she's just so empathetic that she gets me regardless of how different we are. i also watched In the Mood for Love at the local theater at 7 and was struck by how much i still enjoyed it, and how it dragged less than i remembered, how effective the music was, and how gorgeous maggie leung was. new crush. although now she must be in her 50's or 60's.

today is monday, February 26th, and it's been a productive day of dishes, work, dropping my car off at the mechanic's, getting picked up by my mom, and treating her to pho. i just agreed to get dinner with Patti even though i subsequently remembered that i don't have a car, but I do have uber, so i'll just get driven over.

i'm feeling weirdly ... calm. is it the drugs? am i getting exhausted with the sadness? within a week the Sophie storm that had raged through me just as suddenly calmed down. this morning i took a brief walk in the morning as the sun rose, and i think even made my bed almost as soon as i woke up. i've been weighing myself daily and committing to losing a healthy and hopefully attainable 1 pound a week. i bought some apples and i ate one yesterday and one today. i'm trying to get in 1-2 servings of fruit/vegetables a day, and average 10,000 steps/day/week. i walked close to 20,000 steps yesterday, but today was significantly less, partly due to taking my car in during my lunch, and partly due to some random rain that prevented me from going after work.

but in general i feel more calm, less frenzied. i'm journaling, as can be seen, and i watched 1-2 episodes of The Curse each night until i finished it. i read a bit yesterday too and think that i might be able to finish this book by the end of the month, which would be fantastic as I started this in August or September and i've been having so much trouble reading, and just focusing on anything but my own misery in general.

although i'm almost always focused "on myself," i'm trying to just be mindful and intentional with how i spend my time, with my diet, my exercise. i'm trying to decrease screen time, see more shows, and experience things outside of my head, and outside of my condo. i've eaten at a bunch more restaurants and bars so far, so think i'm okay with that aspect, but am thinking now that instead of a bar/week, maybe i could switch it out occasionally with a coffee shop/weekend, and i'll sip some coffee and read a book for 30 minutes or so. and just be. that might be nice.

i'm also cleaning more, and noticing that there are things that could use a deeper cleaning. my flatware. the little dirt trapped around my windows that make it harder to open and close. my laptop. just finding little projects around the condo that make me feel mildly productive but also maddeningly dull.

and i'm remembering .... that i'm feeling more like a former version of myself, but one that i don't find so despicable. yes, i kind of just endlessly scroll for things i might like to buy at REI and random camping goods that once i purchase, i immediately forget, but i'm also enjoying movies again, i'm tracking things, which i weirdly like doing. i'm watching minimalism and frugal living videos instead of police body cameras. i also feel like i'm a bit funnier, a bit lighter, a bit more appreciative.

i'm hoping i'm on a bit of an upswing and this isn't just the minor blip before the inevitable fall. i want to be more disciplined, and feel like the central character in a story, in my story. i don't want to feel ashamed of the way i look, and want to be in a body that i'm proud of, and in clothes that i think flatter me. i want to make sure i get regular haircuts and massages and exercise and just ... all of the things. i want to feel and be healthier.

i think i'm doing a bit of a better job in trying to clean things up in my condo. i got rid of a few bags of e-waste, like jadai's old vacuum and my robot vacuum, some wires, batteries, etc., just things i've wanted to get rid of for a long time. i took some stuff over to goodwill, and to the animal shelter. there's a lot that i've left undone, that i just .... lost the motivation and lacked the wherewithal to address, but i can feel myself gradually starting to care again, noticing things that need repair and/or attention. like getting rid of the old line in my fishing rods, and giving them a rinse as they haven't been used since last june. steven t has been reaching out and updating me on his kids, and wanting me to spend more time with them. grace k's family apparently has lice right now, so can't be socialized with, but once they are, i'd like to see them too. i'm just .... feeling things other than negativity, which is such a relief.

[reblogg3darts]

my 2 cents as someone from a (non-American) multi-wealth-level family. I have relatives who are company founders, third- and/or fourth-generation conglomerates, high- to lowest-ranking employees, and shit-poor good-for-naught dirtbags.

Bruce: the 1% bracket, because obviously. Same financial bracket as Oliver Queen and Lex Luthor. But!

Note that Bruce has at least FOUR generational wealth (think Rockefeller, Carnegie, Astor). Luthor is the first-gen rich dude(see Bezos, Elon, etc. His dad was a researcher or whatever, not old-money rich).

Oliver Queen, however, is more alike to Jack Drake, with the only difference of him being a SECOND generation rich dude. He's the equivalent of the present day Truett Cathy Family (Chick-fil-a).

Tim's parents are more in the Michael Dell category: they had a running company - presumably in the medicine manufacturing fields (as per pre-Crisis comics), in a volatile industry that can collapse at any time. BUT they do have a manufacturing facility that enabled them to provide jobs (have employees) and generate enough revenue to get PUBLICLY LISTED. This is not a small company, and its collapse happened due to embezzlement (crime) and mismanagement (when Jack was incapacitated and left the company in the hands of someone else, presumably his and Janet's third majority shareholder partner).

Unlike Wayne Enterprises that has multiple business fields and have BOC in the holding and BODs in the subsidiaries whose main interest was to keep the whole group alive for both their benefit and out of historical loyalty to the Wayne family in general. It is highly likely that Wayne Enterprises' BOC/BOD are second- or third-generation minority shareholders as well.

Side note: Personally, I find the plot "so-and-so was able to remove Bruce out of the company's management and/or ownership" as ridiculous and can only be made by someone who does not understand how company ownerships work. A Board of Commissioners (BOC) and Board of Directors (BOD) CAN remove a director. But even an Extraordinary Meeting of SHAREHOLDERS that includes ALL shareholders including those whose shares came from buying them FROM THE STOCK MARKET, CAN NOT remove a shareholder without financial returns. I.e.: even in a publicly listed company, Bruce, who should be owning a minimum of 30% shares (the minimum amount of what is called a Controlling Shares), CANNOT be removed of his stock ownership EVER by any way and means, unless he's dead. Even in the event that - say, Ra's Al Ghul - somehow managed to buy SEVENTY percent of the shares, he STILL CANNOT remove Bruce's stock ownership.

Anyway.

Back to Tim and Steph.

I disagree that Tim and Steph are of a 'similar' tax bracket/social/financial status. In short: same milieu. It might be a strange concept for general Americans, but it is more apparent in other, developing countries like mine - or developed super-old countries like the UK, Netherlands, Spain etc.

Tim's parents were Job MAKERS - they had the company, a manufacturing facility, and thus the funds to employ people for (at least) 2-5 years before Tim was born.

Steph's parents were EMPLOYEES. The closest real-life analogy of Arthur (excluding his criminal history) and Crystal is probably if a TV news anchor/game show host married to an RN. They would have had a stable income that allowed them to have a 15-20 years mortgage, and for their ONLY daughter to have a livelihood similar to most of the readers of this post who are in the upper-middle income bracket. I doubt Steph ever had a babysitter when she was little - it is more likely that she was placed in Crystal's workplace's daycare that's free.

Tim's parents were able to place their son with a live-in housekeeper, that 'functions' the same way as Alfred. They previously had live-in nannies for their infant son (not hour-based babysitters). They lived (cmiiw) in a penthouse apartment downtown before buying the Drake House that is 'next door' to Wayne Manor. Presumably Jack paid cash (or have cash the amount of the house's value deposited), and not through a mortgage, hence it was easily and quickly liquidated (Sold Off) and not confiscated or foreclosed by the bank when Jack went 'bankrupt'.

Another thing people don't realize of the Noveaux-riche (New Money that is Jack Drake) is that they are so, so keen on being deemed as Really, Really Rich and Regal, they would have learned the Old World Royal Etiquette and memorize it by heart. To do this, they will have to pay for trainers - more commonly known as governesses, since this very specific etiquette is not something one can learn through google alone. Tim's nannies would have been professionals like Alfred in order for them to teach Tim the Old World Etiquette.

Steph's parents would have just been happy if their daughter can use the utensils without killing anybody. Or when she can make orders at BatBurger without taking too long.

If their relationship was to continue to - say - a marriage stage, it will be more like a White Collar (Tim) marrying a Blue Collar (Steph). No disrespect to blue collars, but social-levelly-speaking, that's what Tim v. Steph's 'level' is.

DC Bat comics have a lot of classism issues (among other problems) but thanks to the weird-ass way that wealth scales, any analysis that assumes Tim’s original family is closer to the Waynes than they are to the Browns is going to be full of holes. Or if you assume Stephanie’s family is closer to the Todds than to the Drakes.

Like, the Drakes when Jack still has the company are definitely in a different tax bracket than Crystal Brown the nurse & Arthur Brown the ex gameshow host turned costumed villain, but the Drakes & Browns are still closer to each other than they are to the old money Bruce Wayne whose company bankrolls the Justice League.

Plus the time when DI went under and the Drakes were relying on Dana’s income from working as a physical therapist moved them to probably about the same bracket until Jack picked up a job too.

Acting like Stephanie Brown, who grows up in the suburbs in a house her mom owns outright, can easily put herself up in a hotel room for a week or two when fighting with her mom, only needs a job in college to avoid student loans instead of to supplement them… is close to pre-adoption Jason?

Even pre-his-parents-dying Jason?

No.

Tim & Steph have enough of a gap to have different experiences and sometimes talk past each other, but they’re still both much closer to each other than either of them is to the Waynes or the Todds.

Tim & Steph are both economically well off kids with abusive dads who decide to sneak out and fight crime. Stephanie’s mom is uninvolved in her life because of a prescription pill addiction (though she works past that to become more involved), while Tim’s mom is straight up dead, and the stepmom he gets later is nice but takes a hands-off approach to parenting (and then dies too).

This makes sense with Stephanie’s role in earlier comics being a foil to Tim (though she grows into a more independent character over time). They need enough similarities in circumstance that their different philosophies and crime fighting styles come down to personal choice, and they can argue with each other without mutually devolving into “You just don’t understand!”

TL;DR: economics and social class are fucking weird, Tim & Steph are foils, exaggerating the differences in their backgrounds messes up your analysis.

Bonus: You don’t need to make Steph even more of an underdog to appreciate her character.

[obvslybatgrl]

COMIC HAUL !!!!!

Yipeeeee!! Okay so these are from several trips to my comic shop, cons, and shops outside my city. Gonna list where I got everything at the end so if y'all are in Canada 👀. But actually fr support local business!

Ignore my taking photos of them on the carpet floor, my desk is covered with shelves and stuff that needs to be put up still 😭

Anyways

First of all here are most of the comics I picked up at my local comic shop since April. Was really happy to get a hold of all those variants but damn bro Pride month took all my money jahshshshz. I got all these at The Comic Book Shoppe in Ottawa, both locations. I'm probably gonna be pulling comics with them as long as I live here, their staff are definitely the most friendly I've experienced with any comic vendor.

I was in St. John's and was staying right next to the comic book store, it was so hard not to spend all my time there lol. Not pictured above but I also got Paper Girls vol. 1 just forgot to take it off my shelf for the photo 🤡. And Bylines in Blood #2 and 3 are also in the same bag as 1, I'm just waiting to get bag and boards before opening them up. If you guys are ever in Newfoundland, check out Downtown Comics! The building was bought by a new landlord recently so I don't know how that's going to affect the store, but I really hope they're able to renew their lease because that's the only one in the downtown area and it's been there since the 90s.

These are got from several different vendors at Ottawa FanaticCon. Got free admission as a volunteer 😎. As you can tell by now I'm only really looking for Cass, Tim, and Steph 💛💚💜. If you live in the Ottawa area, I 100% recommended heading to this convention if you're a collector. Most of the vendors do not have brick and mortar shops so you'll save of those horrible Canadian shipping fees, and they have a cosplay contest with a cash prize. However I don't recommend heading to this con if it's super out of your way. It is just a local convention so it's a small venue that fit maybe 50 vendors max (?). You're able to go through the entire thing in a few hours. I had fun though. Met an independent comic writer/artist from Montreal, obviously grabbed a lot of good books (that's the second printing of A Death in the Family TP btw. I thought that was cool) and some Pokémon.

TORONTO 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 Ugh I miss it already, I just came home last night. 7 of those issues I bought off Kijiji, the Robin I found at the CNE, and the Batwoman TP is from The Beguiling but everything else is from the best bookstores in Toronto, BMV Books. Everything in there is gently used or discounted new books (got that LOK art book for 20$! It's usually 50$+ retail here). Was really happy to find so much off my wishlist, AND BTW GOT BATGIRLS #8 VARIANT FOR 2$??!! FOUND CASS BATGIRL RUN TP??!! Love that store so much. If y'all are in Toronto check out all of BMV's locations but specifically the one between Bathurst and Spadina. Third floor is just thousands of comic issues. Most of their stuff is SIGNIFICANTLY cheaper than buying retail and in great condition.

I've spent so much money 🤡