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#but it works! this way wally can feel home's intentions and feelings (when home wants to share)
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WHAT DO YOU MEAN FANTASY AU HOME FINDS WALLY A LOVER AND THAT ITS COMPLICATED?????
AM I SNIFFING SOME LORE????
OK LISTEN YES AND NO YES AND NO it's not so cut and dry!
most if not all of my decisions in au-crafting stems from the source, my understanding of it, and my interpretations. so warlock!Wally & patron!Home's relationship is how i view their relationship in ~canon~(albeit slightly more intense due to the change in situation). in short: devoted, codependent, intimate, a little strange, and unable to be labeled
so i wouldn't say that Home looks at Wally with outright/explicit romantic feelings, because it's more complicated than that. plus i'm an aro Wally truther. i actually have a ramble post queued up about exactly this so i won't say anything more on the matter rn
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fangirltothefullest · 11 months
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One thing I love about Welcome Home that I want to talk about more is the concept of eye contact in terms of puppetry, particularly muppet-esque puppetry. I've been interested in puppets before Welcome Home- I always have a lot to say about the muppets and how wonderful their perfoemances are as characters go. I've looked up a lot of history and learned a lot about puppetry prior to discovering Wecome Home. (I also know a lot about the history of animatrpnic shows but that's another can of worms) So taking that knowledge into account has been a lot of fun.
(Seriously, go look up the history of Between the Lions, and The Puzzle Place, it's fascinating)
One of the things that makes muppets so expressive is that "magic triangle" type scenario where the eyes have to line up on the face in such a way so that the eyes are looking at you- in a way that gives so much more believability to the acting when couples with the exaggerated and emphasized head movements that make a muppet feel so real. That eye placement is VITAL for each character to look essentially alive.
For Wally to be the one with very specific eye contact works so fucking well because it makes him feel more real. He's paying attention- he's more attentive, more interested, and more alive than the others. And because he's drawn like puppets he looks like one and we associate the same eye contact proportions.
And it becomes this beautiful dichotomy of the eye contact being used in children's books for sesame street characters to connect with child readers for that eye contact to happen, but also endlessly creepy when he's put in unsettling situations where the eye contact is juuust a bit too much. He's not looking at you as a reader or viewer, he's looking DIRECTLY at you like he knows you're there.
I'm just gonna say that whether this connection was intentional by partycoffin or not, it's very very good and delights the fuck out of me.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Wally Darling with a Restoration Project Reader (part 3)
It's been a few weeks, now... You feel like something is wrong...
TW: Mentions of Hacking, Scopophobia/Eye Imagery
🗞️ Daniel has been having more and more mail sent his way. The time you all spend in Finn's house, restoring Welcome Home merchandise and media, is getting longer and longer. Your mother has been getting more and more snippy about it all.
🗞️ You grab an old book titled "Happy Birthday, Barnaby!" Opening it up reveals how it's Barnaby's birthday and Wally, Julie, and Sally are all planning to throw a surprise party for him. What you have found with almost every single item that has Wally in it is that he is, most of the time, looking at you. Well, the person looking at the material. Even on the page where everyone is telling Barnaby happy birthday. The rest of the neighbors are all looking at Barnaby, smiling and clapping as he blows out some birthday candles. Wally, however, is looking at you. His body is turned to face Barnaby, but his head is turned towards you, his eyes locked onto you.
🗞️ You put the book down, asking the rest of the group "Wally seems rather odd, huh? He's like... my favorite, but he is very eerie. Do you have any theories as to why he stares at us?" Amy makes a face of concentration, before saying "Well, Wally is meant to make a connection with the children watching the show. It is probably because they want to emphasize that connection, or make it stronger through eye contact." She then clasps her hands together, continuing "I really wish they did that with Julie! She is so cute!" "HOLY-! WHAT?!"
🗞️ Everyone looks over to Finn, who has been looking at the Welcome Home Restoration Project blog on his laptop. His eyes grow wide as he says "Y'all, I think someone has hacked us or something! Look! I found this link beneath the Wally character file on the neighborhood page! It leads to... this..."
🗞️ He turns the laptop around, showing you all a dark page. After a few moments, an image fades in of Wally, sketched in red, facing one of Home's windows. Home's large eye shakes, with red seemingly leaking from it. Wally's kneeling down, his left arm outstretched.
🗞️ You can't help but watch and think. Why is Wally kneeling like that? Why is Home watching Wally so intently? Is Wally inside or outside of Home? Why is it so dark? You ask Finn "Was there anything else odd on our blog?" Finn nods "A bunch of out of place letters."
🗞️ Daniel looks around, before saying "I'll check it out. Maybe this could be the work of whoever is sending us this stuff? The letters could mean something. Amy, you continue working on restoring the art. (Y/N), you can manage the guestbook. We can all work together to try to figure out what this all means."
🗞️ Amy tilts her head, before asking "Should we all like... I don't know... pick a set of characters to research? I feel like it would be difficult for any of us to remember so much about every character when we are learning about them through little dribbles of content. We might get confused and mix them up with one another." Daniel thinks about it, before looking over to you. "What do you think about that idea? I don't want to just say yes to it. This is all very interesting, so I don't know if focusing on a couple characters will make some of us feel left out..."
🗞️ You find yourself immediately responding. It is almost as if it were an instinctual reaction. "I will focus on Wally, Home, and Barnaby." Daniel's eyes widen a bit at how blunt and quickly you responded to his question. He slowly nods "Alright... I'll focus on Frank, Howdy, and Eddie..." Amy decides to focus on Julie, Sally, and Poppy. Finn shrugs, saying that he will just stick with the blog, and that any remaining characters you all find out about will fall onto him.
🗞️ You take some of the restored media with you when you go home. It is all about Wally, Home, and/or Barnaby. Your mother seems to have already gone to bed by the time you get to the house.
🗞️ Quietly stepping up the stairs, you enter your room. It's a bit of a mess, due to how you spend all your free time at Finn's house these days. You keep forgetting to clean it. Placing the pile of papers and books onto your desk, you get a text from Daniel. It simply reads, in all capitals, "GO TO THE NEIGHBORHOOD PAGE ON YOUR PHONE."
🗞️ You quickly do so, the unspoken rule between the group being that texts in all capitals conveys an extreme seriousness that must not be ignored. In cases like these, it is the equivalent of STAT.
🗞️ You go to the neighborhood page on the blog. You are shocked to find that every link is messed up, almost as if they were moved upwards. The image of Home, as well, has been moved to reveal a dark void either behind or beneath the red house. Within that void is a small, white spiral.
🗞️ You don't know why, but you feel a chill looking at it. You can't look away, either. It's kind of like it has infected your brain, causing your mind to spiral, as well. Thoughts and questions fill it to the brim. It is so hard to do so, but after a few minutes, you manage to break yourself away from the void, and go to bed.
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atripandahalf · 1 year
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we are each waves and also the ocean
(ao3) (au link)
It was a quiet day in the neighbourhood, and Barnaby looked out the window from his kitchen. The sun was shining, it was about midday... and the neighbours were throwing a party?
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part of my mlpth au for welcome home but can be read as standalone! please send me asks about this AU :)
tags: barnaby-centric, minor references to hello puppets, fluff
It was a quiet day in the neighbourhood, and Barnaby looked out the window from his kitchen. The sun was shining, it was about midday, and he had just got back from the shops, where Howdy was busy working. He was spending the early afternoon washing and preparing the fruit and vegetables he had just bought. The chopping motions were soothing, and it was warm enough that he could leave his window open. The neighbour felt like it bustled more than the farm back home ever did, with all its chatter and gossip, and its contact with the other local neighbourhoods. Plenty of people visited their neighbourhood, either to shop or to simply chat with the residents and so there was always noise, the space always lively, and all the houses were close enough together that the lively chatter could be heard from Barnaby's house. And it was always pleasant. The noise got louder, reaching a crescendo, and Barnaby wiped off his hands before walking out into the town centre.
The town centre was, in actuality, pretty small, just like the neighbourhood, but to Barnaby, it seemed huge. There was a fountain in the centre, but the space was also filled with familiar faces - and a few new ones. The plaza was filled with the sound of music, as what Barnaby recognised as one of Julie's siblings if the hair was anything to go by, was singing into a microphone. They were shorter than Barnaby, although that was hardly saying much, and wore a ruffled dress, that faded from orange to yellow, making them look more like a sunset than a puppet, especially with that sparkle in their eye. The melody was bright, and almost jazz-like in the swing of it, and it made you want to get up and start moving, which some of the other people in the square appeared to have already been doing. Barnaby watched Eddie coax Frank into dancing, Julie pushing him further into dancing quite literally, as he stumbled into Eddie's open arms. Frank's face was blushing bright red, and he moved a little awkwardly, yet Eddie just seemed to find it more endearing as he whisked him away to the swing of the music. Frank accidentally hit Wally in an attempt to follow Eddie's dance moves, letting out a very strangled, "Sorry!" as he went by. Wally just smiled back, in what Barnaby thought was that adorable way of his, and continued talking to somebody that Barnaby had never seen before.
He was an older man, his hair greyed and sticking out on either side of his head, with a little purple top hat resting on his head. He was wearing an old-fashioned suit, in a dark cool purple, and that, paired with his monocle, made him feel slightly out of place within the Neighbourhood. There was a woman standing next to him, with a mop of ginger hair on her head, and in a very badly stained lab coat - a scientist of some sort, then - who seemed to want to interject but thought better of it, and kept rolling her eyes at her companion's answers. She kept moving her hands oddly, seemingly seeking something to hold on to at her hip, and coming up short. These people seemed to be new to the neighbourhood, but somehow knew Wally - were they old friends, or even his family perhaps? Barnaby had always thought it odd that Wally had never mentioned any of his relatives, but he didn't want to open a can of worms that Wally would rather he didn't, so he never asked, but by the looks of it they were close, with Wally listening intently to the mans every word, and even when the woman interjected with a snide comment towards him, Wally would laugh good-naturedly. They seemed to be... okay.
Just next to their little group, Howdy was leaning outside the open window of his shop, talking to Sally and Poppy. Howdy made eye contact with Barnaby and waved, and Barnaby walked on over.
"Hey y'all, how's it going?" Barnaby greeted standing on the other side of Howdy, across from Sally and Poppy. The stand seemed to have changed what it was selling since Barnaby was here earlier and now had an array of snacks and drinks, and there was even a small freezer full of ice cream and lollies. Clearly, everyone was celebrating something, and Barnaby was so confused as to how he could have missed it.
Howdy greeted him warmly and offered him a drink. Barnaby accepted and let the conversation wash over him. As he sipped his drink, he caught up with his friends, listening to their stories about the latest happenings in the neighbourhood. The party was in full swing, and Barnaby felt grateful to be a part of such a close-knit and welcoming community.
Suddenly, the music stopped, and a voice boomed through the speakers. "Neighbours and friends, may I have your attention please?" It was Wally, his striped suit glinting in the daylight. "Thank you for coming out today. Our neighbourhood is truly a special place, and events like this remind us of that!"
The crowd erupted into cheers, and the music started up again. Barnaby felt a sense of belonging and happiness wash over him as he danced and laughed with his neighbours. He knew that he had made the right choice in moving to this neighbourhood, and he felt lucky to call it his home. Although, he still had no idea what the event was for.
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spitdrunken · 2 months
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currently i'm really busy with writing for my thesis, which unfortunately leaves me with little creative juice... ive been engaging with other people's creations a lot more rather than writing for myself, but have some assorted thoughts on things ive enjoyed recently below, for anyone who is interested. feel free to send me asks about anything that's mentioned, but because of the above, might take me a bit to get back to u <3!
these aren't really x reader thoughts, just rambling! if you read this, thank u, i am giving you a kiss on your forehead/hug/fistbump/handshake/whatever words of affirmation you have been wanting to hear today. pick your favorite!
(Pokephilia mention) Pokémon Legends Z's announcement!! It'll be forever until it's released (which, as a true Pokémon fan, I'm very happy about BAHAHAH), but I'm so excited! Very curious how they are planning to implement, what seems to be, citybuilder elements... If Emmet shows up in this game, I'm going to be super delighted, but I honestly doubt it. Either way, it's made me think a bit more about the twins, and Poképhilia stuff in general as well! It's such a shame/pain the main tag is blocked... one day I will start and stick to my intention to write, like, porn about all the Pokémon, haha. A dream...
(cannibalism(????) monster eating??? mention. consensual!) Dungeon Meshi really was as much fun as everyone mentioned! Don't really see myself writing fic about it, except for a very specific idea I had... I like the thought of Laois 'obsessed with eating monsters' Touden got to meet a monster (AKA Reader) who is equally obsessed with the idea of being eaten!! Maybe a mermaid, or something like that? It's his one chance to eat a humanoid monster! Though the others probably won't believe him when they tell him that it was 100% consensual, and are judging him harshly LMAO
Welcome Home updated! Very happy about this. Though I don't connect them publically, I actually have written quite a bit of WH fic and my sfw sideblog for it used to have more followers than this one LMAOO. Maybe one day I'll write NSFW works for it, but I dunno if there's interest... Plus, I very much fall underneath people the creator would consider 'unwelcome' in their squeaky-clean fandom or whatever, but they have like a quarter million followers now, lol. Anyway, Wally is, as has been said many times before, the Most! He draws me in <3
And also, poor Eddie, lmao. It's very interesting to me, with the inclusion of the Narrator, that the characters seem to be forced to steer in a specific direction, if that makes sense? To upkeep a certain mask. I wonder if 'as above, so below' is a reference to that, in the sense that whatever is dictated by the stronger forces of narrative, is what shall occur 'below'-- In their world. Like, the animosity some of these puppets have for each other!!!!! Some of them are just straight up Not Friends, lmao.
I need to play more of it, but if anyone is reading this, go play I Was A Teenage Exocolonist. I expected it to be waaaay more popular, especially on Tumblr, but it's so underrated? The writing is wonderful, the characters are well-defined, and the art is breathtaking! Please take a look at the trigger warnings, cuz there are a few that are definitely applicable, but it's soooo good... If it has to be said, I romanced Dys first, lmao.
I am watching The Apothecary Diaries right now, just started today, and can I jsut say... I'm such a fan of all the women in this show!! I love the perspective it gives on court life a lot! Maomao definitely is pulling in all the men AND women, huh.... i appreciate that. Jinshi also 100% wants to get degraded by her, huh. Maomao is the sexywoman of this show.
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yandere-valentine · 1 year
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Maybe we shouldn’t write for Wally as his creator doesn’t feel comfortable about ppl lusting after him.
The poor guy is getting fan doxxed too. He’s just 1 created of the ARG and I’m pretty sure the puppet is his self insert. Not trying to be mean or rude just saying we should respect his boundaries
/genuine /not mad
Thanks for sharing with me this concern, Anon. And you're right.
And I think it's time for me to do something about this. To all my followers, I do hope you understand my decision and my feelings too.
In case you didn't knew - Clown (the creator of Welcome Home) is currently going through horrible things, outside and inside of the internet. They are being put under too many stressful situations with their feelings being constantly invalidated, his requests and boundaries ignored and their integrity being threatened.
As the Anon just mentioned - Clown is getting fan doxxed, people are doing proshipping and nsfw content even after they asked to not to do anything like that to their characters, there are users creating content about the show and planning on selling them even when Clown asked to not do that, there are users that are pretending to be them on other plataforms (like Tiktok, instagram, etc.), and so much more.
And yes - "it is something common in the internet" but Clown is expressing loudly how attacked they are feeling. Maybe not everyone had ill intentions on wanting to hurt Clown or not give a shit about what they are putting as boundaries - but there are so many out there that have SEEN how Clown is getting affected with everything and are not doing anything to change the situation or support them.
His project - the one that they have crafted with their bare hands and loved so dearly - is getting tainted and preyed away from their hands.
So, with that said... I've come with a decision that I hope you understand - I'm going to stop doing Yandere content about Welcome Home, and I'll stop doing yandere content in general.
As much as I love doing Yandere content in general and how much I liked doing said content for Welcome Home - it is not worthy if I am putting my 'grain of sand' to Clown's stress.
Yes, I may not have been doing sexual/nsfw things with Welcome Home, I may not have been creating content about them to later on sell it, I may not be trying to steal Clown's identity on internet or dox them, I may not have been writting really dark stuff (like r@pe or shit like proshippers have been doing lately) - but still. Yandere content, even when it has been all pure fiction and I do not condone it, it's abuse content in the end.
Why? Well - things like kidnapping, harassment, obsessive behavior, threats, and so much more are part of the whole ""yandere asthetic"". And I don't think Clown would feel comfortable if their characters are being written as that - even less Wally.
Yes, I know - Welcome Home is supposed to be a horror project, but there's a difference between the type of horror content Clown wants in the project and the type of horror content we put on it. It is not our project, nor our characters - and if Clown is telling us to not do something, then we must be decent human beings and actually listen and do what they are asking.
And believe me when I tell you I was having so much fun doing this and so happy recieving so many positive reactions on the things I've wrote - hell, I swear I've never been so active as a 'content creator' in a long while! You can see how much work, effort and creativity I've been pouring on this blog and specially on the Welcome Home yandere content!
But nothing of that is wrothy, not if I'm part of the problem - not if I'm hurting Clown some way or another. Because - fuck, I was partially ignoring Clown's boundaries! And it is my decision to stop doing that.
I thank you enough for everyone's support, likes, reblogs and comments - and I'm so sorry, but I'm going to delete every single one of my yandere posts (all of them) - if you have saved one of them, do not repost them anywhere - if you do, then you'll be part of the problem that is putting Clown on the ground (and I'll make sure to report the post so it gets taken down.)
I'm not going to delete the whole blog (only it's content, posts, etc.) - I want this message to stay up and for everyone to read.
Do not take this as a way for me to "pretend I did nothing wrong, that I am free of any mistakes and that I am a pure little white sheep, hidding everything under the rug" - I just don't want to "support" others on keep doing this content - even less for Welcome Home. I no longer feel comfortable on doing yandere content if that means I am hurting somebody or encouraging others on keep doing stuff that is in general no good!
Thanks for everything and for the support, but nothing of this is worthy if I am adding my part to the problem.
Please, support Clown in any way you can.
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The Whisperer: Part 12 (Wally Clark Fic)
I felt his energy before I saw him or heard him. I continued reading my book without acknowledging him. Honestly he could wait a few minutes after what happened today. “Mo…” his voice sounded so lost and broken, but he did it to himself, he asked me to do something I told him weeks ago I had no intention of doing.
“We aren’t visiting yet Wally I’ve still got 6 pages in my chapter.” Before I could even do anything the book was launched across the room and Wally was straddling me. “Well now it’s even more time because I have to go back and find my-“ My speech was cut off by a very high pitched screeching noise that came from me horrifyingly enough. The stupid ghost was tickling me.
“I’m sorry I didn’t quite catch that you might have to try again.” He continued his brutal assault on my ribs and neck with me unsuccessfully trying to bat his hands away.
“O-okay you’re forgiven!” I finally get out grabbing his hands and trying to catch my breath while I gazed up at him to see his eyes a dark like before. I follow his line of sight and see that my sleep shirt has ridden up so he can see the black lacy thing underneath.
“I don’t know I kinda like you squirming and out of breath beneath me.” He muttered before leaving wet kisses in a line just above my underwear and along my thighs. What the hell man it’s like fucking whiplash. “Tell me about the accident” He managed to get out in between kisses on my body.
“Wally-“ I tried pushing his head away but he caught my hands and held them to my sides staring me down as he licked a long strip up my thigh to my hip making sure to leave a mark. This man may make me cum without ever actually touching my pussy.
“No, I’m going to keep doing this. I want you to tell me about the accident. Close your eyes.” I did as he said and focused on his fucking wonderful tongue dancing along my body wondering about how it would feel- “You’re not telling me the story, I’ll stop”
“I was 10, my brother Connor -the one I live with- was 24. He had flown in from Florida for Christmas and my parents and I were driving to the airport to pick him up. I was being a brat and screaming that I wanted a hot chocolate at the airport but my parents had both said it was too late and I would have to go to bed when we got home. My mom was trying to reason with me but I threw my book at her so my dad turned my head around for just a second…but that’s all it took. There was a drunk driver out that night, he hit us head on. It was so cold, and then there was this light. Not like the overly dramatic light that you see in movies but just kinda like I was walking into sunlight. My mom and dad were way ahead of me and I was running to catch up with them, that’s when I felt arms pick me up and I was looking at this man I didn’t know. He shook his head and he said that it wasn’t my time yet, that I still had so much work to do. And then I woke up and the EMTs were talking about how it was a miracle because I had been dead for 12 minutes. That wasn’t the last time I saw the man, he’s been back in my dreams every now and then since then, he explained I could see and talk to ghosts because I had technically died. I can also project, which means I can go into people’s dreams or visit their resting place but not for very long. So I mean yes I guess I could technically tell Maddie’s friends I know but it would be in a dream.” Wally moved so he face was hovering over mine and he kissed my forehead.
“I’m so sorry Mo, we should have never asked you to help Maddie. I never should have asked you to help Maddie.” Damn it he looked so fucking sad.
“Maybe I’ll be able to help Maddie one day, it’s just not a day in the foreseeable future.” He nodded and traced his finger down my face, neck, all the way down my body until he reached my thigh.
“You’re so pretty Mo, and such a good person even if you think you’re not.” He shifted just so and I could feel his cock staining against his pants on my thigh. “Do you want me to tell you a different story now?”
“I think I know the story, and considering how emotionally taxing this day has been it’s going to have to be another. You’ll spend the night with me though won’t you?” He smiled and nodded before spooning me from behind. “Hey Wally, just so you know I normally sleep naked.” Wally groaned and turned away from me.
“Jesus Christ Mo.”
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Could you do some hcs for dating the teen titans?
Yes I can!! I just got HBO Max so I’ve been binging both the animated and the live action series haha 😂 Thank you so much for being my first request!
Also I’m guessing you’re referring to the original teen titans, so if you want the new teen titans just shoot me another request!
Dating the Teen Titans Would Include...
No Specified AU
TW: Language
Genre: Fluff
[DC Masterlist]
Word Count: 2.0K (About 0.2K per Titan)
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Dick Grayson
You must have an insane amount of patience, truly, to be able to date Dick Grayson
If the joke book he probably carries around isn’t enough, I would’ve been certain that the ego would drive you away but nope you’re still here
And that’s how you both knew that it was true fucking love you’re both inseparable and the Titans know it.
To put things simply... he loves you and the Titans fear you.
While you’re both somewhat easygoing and hospitable, one would do well not to piss off one or the other because you both come as a package deal and you can kick ass when necessary you just choose not to embarrass Dick like that because you could totally outmatch him.
Don’t ask him that though he’d insist that he’d win.
Best not bring up the first time you met or else the Titans would never let him live it down
But in all seriousness, I see the relationship as rather lighthearted and enjoyable, maybe a bit spontaneous too. Want to go to the beach? Done. Want to kick some ass in Gotham? For sure. It’s like a match made in heaven.
Not to mention that the Titans rather look up to you, which is a definite plus. Not just anyone can date the Dick Grayson.
Wally West
As opposed to popular opinion... I’d think that this is a rather slow relationship. 
Speedsters are more than just familiar with how life just flashes by so I think Wally would like to enjoy the relationship at a slower pace, he wants it to last as long as possible.
With that said, you’re both menaces. His speed combined with your cleverness? No one is safe and the Titans know it.
The best moment of your relationship, although this is debatable, was when you and Wally successfully turned the Titan tower into an all-out prank minefield. Trash cans were covered with plastic, buckets of water places on doorways, even wardrobes were switched.
And all done in ten seconds, impressive. Nothing quite like starting a war in the Tower then grabbing burgers after, right?
Kind of cheesy but I can see you both having frequent movie nights that differ in genre according to month. You both probably rotate on who chooses the movie too.
Overall I think you both have a lot of fun together, if I were to compare the “vibes” to something, I would say a summer relationship (that obviously lasts longer than just a summer) where everything is just living life as it goes
Nah because like I said before you guys don’t want to rush things, and you’re always there to remind Wally to just slow down every now and then.
I should probably mention that this is a competitive relationship too, before I go, not everything’s a competition but everything’s a competition, you know? It’s a shame that the Titans often get caught in the cross fire though-
Donna Troy
Oh this one’s fun. Donna’s new to this whole “rest of the world” stuff but luckily she has a wonderful partner who’s willing to teach her everything.
A lot of the relationship consists of you explaining things, but it’s kind of endearing despite Donna’s headstrong attitude towards anything
But Donna is also the kind to be open to learning new things, and you’re open to trying new things. It works like clockwork, you’re both young and willing.
Now these “things” can range from baking cookies to extreme mountain climbing so be prepared for anything in this relationship.
Overall I think the Titans see you both as a really cute relationship, one that anyone could be slightly envious of and one that they’re glad that exists
But despite this loving relationship I think you’d both be absolute machines in a battle, I think one thing that is important to Donna is ultimately respect for each other’s abilities, having grown up on Themyscira and all, and maybe that one battle where you absolutely demolished the enemy was when she really caught interest.
Or not. It could’ve also been when you mistakenly ran into one of the glass walls in the tower and she developed a crush over you while you mumbled a series of curses.
This relationship is strongly built on loyalty, so I think you both would be describes as a pair of ride-or-dies who typically tend to lean towards the latter, especially when trying the more extreme things that Donna asked you about.
But overall I think it’s a really sweet relationship with few bumps, they’re still there but I mean that you’re both good at working through them.
Victor Stone
I feel like this relationship is very classical high school romance, you know?
Like walking to class together, holding each other’s books, stuff like that.
But on the other hand I feel like you’re both a very fun couple to be around, like you know how when you’re with some couples it feels like you’re third wheeling? Not these two. You feel like you’re part of the crew
You guys probably switch between fun couple and parent couple every now and then, I can see the Titans relying on both of you a lot for different things.
You and Victor are definitely the type to play games to determine who buys food, like things as simple as rock-paper-scissors to things as complicated as 8-Ball, and so far you’ve been winning at a ratio of 3:1.
Definitely a very trusting relationship, I feel like you both reach that comfortable stage faster than most, but it feels right, you know? I think you’d both understand that relationships go both ways.
There are probably times where you’re both in a teasing mode too, I think, but they’re mostly light hearted pranks, definitely not anything in the realm of what Wally would do
I kinda want to say that you’re a very active couple in that you both like to go to the gym together and idk take hikes together but at the same time I also want to say that you’re both inclined to stay home and play video games so I guess it’s like a 50/50
I can also see Victor being the type to do small acts of generosity as opposed to like buying gifts to show his appreciation for you, like I feel like he’s more inclined to help you with small tasks when he knows you need it, you know? Overall very cute, hehe
Raven (Rachel Roth)
Now this one’s interesting, you and Raven are certainly an interesting duo, but the most interesting thing would likely be how you met. Let’s say it involved a blood sacrifice, a bat, and a very old bicycle.
No you weren’t trying to summon her someone else was you just ended up being at the wrong place at the wrong time anyway moving on
You’re both the perfect example of opposites attract for more reasons than just one. 
But what makes it better is that you’re always open and willing to learn and understand many of the things that Raven does and she appreciates it a lot
It goes both ways also! She’s always willing to do whatever you ask her to and you both end up having at least some fun even if it happens to be something she isn’t used to.
Random, but I think a favorite pass time for both of you is simply sitting in her room and reading books, weird, I know, but like there’s something inherently romantic about either of you excitedly showing the other a certain passage you both enjoyed or telling them about your book, it’s just so sweet.
She definitely has a personal bias towards you, obviously, Garfield can say a joke and she’d stare at him with a straight face but you could say the exact same joke probably right after him and she would crack a smile and she probably does that on purpose but it still feels nice
You also may or may not have caught on to her incantations and now you may or may not be able to perform these spells but you haven’t tried because you wouldn’t know how to but it’s just telling of how much time you spent together.
I only mention this because there was an event in which you corrected her incantation and suddenly hell fire appeared which she had to figure out how to get rid of and since then you both mutually agreed to both (a) not tell the Titans and (b) not say incantations out loud
Koriand’r (Starfire)
STOP YOU GUYS ARE SO CUTE anyway you’re definitely both kinds to see beauty in everything
Maybe this relationship is rather dangerous considering you’re both curious people and Kori happens to be able to shoot lasers out of her eyes so maybe you should both be just a little more careful
You’re both probably very doting on both each other and the rest of the Titans and although you’re both well intentioned it has become a case of “oh no there’s two of them” but in like a teasing way
I feel like Kori is very open to sharing a lot of aspects about her culture with you, and you have always found Tamaran culture to be beautiful so it fits
Likewise you share a lot of things about your culture too and you both bond over finding ways to combine them together to make a nice fusion of understandings and it’s all a sweet combination
See a big thing about this relationship if that you both put your everything into it, it is an equal push and equal pull kind of thing where you both love each other with everything that you have and it creates this unbreakable bond that even non-supers have come to acknowledge
Though this also results in the both of you frequently being in your own world even when others are around and that’s something you both promised to fix but yeah...
It’s coming around, don’t worry. You’re both making active efforts but sometimes it just slips your mind and whoops
Now this should go without saying but this trust often leads to powerful combinations when in missions, you’re both fiercely loyal to each other and this often plays in overall favor so all is well
Garfield Logan
This is a fun relationship, definitely, and one that’s also very fulfilling.
You’re both definitely an outdoorsy couple, things like hikes, nature walks (which I guess is also a hike but I’ve been told otherwise), trips to the zoo, etc. but this all just builds the relationship
Also a very sweet one! You both have an unlimited amount of energy and love that you’re often expending said energy volunteering somewhere and helping others out
But when it boils down you’re both also very touchy, I think, you both like being together at all times and cuddles are a frequent occurrence but at the will of the other Titans you both do this in privacy
I also feel like this sweetness can also “flip,” so to say. As in if someone messes with either of you in the relationship the other will come running regardless of whether or not they could do anything about it.
To put it short, you both have each other’s back all the time. Literally, like I said you’re both inseparable. 
Despite these I think the relationship would actually be rather lowkey, I don’t think he would be the type to constantly showcase the relationship. I think he’d mention it like once to get it out there but after that he wouldn’t flaunt you around.
I just think that Garfield, even with his usual out and about behavior, is rather modest when it comes to this topic because you’re more to him than just someone to show off, you’re someone who’s important to him and overall he just wants you to be comfortable
If there’s one flaw in this relationship it’s that when you have arguments it’s just horrible, but also rather comedic. Neither of you talk to the other but you both end up still being in the same room together subconsciously. It’s kind of awkward but the coincidences are what makes the other Titans laugh and honestly you both make up within, like, a day or something.
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americancowgirl19 · 3 years
Text
Old Times
Summary: You find your purpose in hopes of easing your conscious. 
Warnings: angst, fluff, this is a part 2/sequel
Reader: Female Reader
Pairings: Dick Grayson x Reader
Word Count: 1,878
A/n: I thought I would tag you two since you mentioned you guys wanted a part two; @pleasestophoney​ @graysonswonder​
Masterlist - Part One (Eight Year)
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Fuck whoever said knowing was the better choice. Knowing sucked and you wished that you were back to being in the dark about the things you’ve done. Sure, when you couldn’t remember your mind filled in the blanks for you. You would imagine what you had done. You’re imagination was far more merciful compared to the truth.
Your memories returned to you mainly at night, although you got flashes during the day if you were ‘lucky’. As time passed you became more and more aware of how dangerous and deadly you had become. In the last eight years, you were a merciless killing machine that made the Joker look like a fucking kitty cat.
The more you remembered the more you considered handing yourself over to the members of the League that wanted your head. You understood their need for revenge. Hell, if someone had done to you what you had done to them, you’d be demanding justice yourself.
You shared your father’s rule of no killing, at least you did before you were taken, but you knew you’d break that rule if someone killed anyone in your family. In fact, if you weren’t so scared of reverting into a mindless beast you would have torn the Joker apart for killing Jason. But you feared if you killed him, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.
“What’re you doing out here?” Dick questions groggily. You turn your head just enough to see him in your peripheral vision. You had been sitting on the balcony of your shared apartment in Bludhaven for a couple of hours now.
It was one of the rare nights Dick had come home early. Bludhaven was quiet thus prompting Dick to return home to you sooner than usual. Since your return a couple of months ago, Dick continued being Bludhaven’s Nightwing. 
You weren’t ready to join him as Nightshade. Although, that didn’t stop you from using your enhanced hearing to keep track of him. If he was in a trouble he couldn’t get out of, you could get to him within a minute. Luckily he hasn’t needed you yet. You doubted he would. He has survived eight years without you.
You felt guilty for not staying in bed with him. You only got him to yourself so often but you didn’t want to keep him up with your restlessness. He needed his sleep.
Dick joins you on the patio loveseat. He looks at you before sliding his arm around your waist. You shuffle as he pulls you onto his lap. His natural warmth engulfs you. You almost moan as you settle into his comforting embrace.
“I have the day off tomorrow,” Dick mutters, resting his head on yours. You hum snuggling closer to him.
“You have the day off or you’re taking the day off?” You wonder.
“Either way you’ve got me all day tomorrow... later today,” He corrects himself noticing that it’s technically early morning instead of late at night.
“You don’t have to take off work to babysit me,” You mumble.
“I don’t have to do anything but I want to spend the day with you tomorrow,” He tells you. Having grown up with his stubbornness, you let it go. “It’s gonna be a sunny day. I thought I’d take you to a market in the next town over,” A small smile comes to your lips. “Do you wanna try and get some more sleep?
“I was actually debating pouring a stiff drink,” You admit. “I’m gonna have to see if Wally will talk to me and give me some of that strong shit he drinks cause what you have tastes like water,” Dick scoffs.
“You used to get fucked off of three beers,” Dick mutters.
“Then I got super metabolism and cheap drinking went out the window,” You grumble. Dick kisses the crown of your head.
“I’ll give him a call,” He whisper. 
“Diana sent you an email while you were asleep,” You tell him. He hums questionably. “They’re making a memorial for the fallen... I wonder if they’ll ask me to be a guest speaker,” You snark sarcastically. Dicks grip around you tightens. “I guess they figured since I’m ‘back-to-normal’ there won’t be anymore mass superhero killings,” Your eyes become misty. “She was nice enough to put a list attachment,” You voice shakes. “Katherine, John, Oliver... Donna,” You clench your eyes as you slowly breakdown.
“Hey, hey, stop,” You shift to straddle his waste. You cling to him, your head falling into his neck. He pets the back of your head and rub circles into your back. “Shh, sweetheart, it’s alright,” You try to keep collected even though you’re falling apart. “Y/n, look at me.. Please, baby,” You reluctantly pull from his neck. He presses his head against yours. “Tell me what to do, how can I help?”
You didn’t know how to answer, so you just move your head back to the crook of his neck. His arms lock around you as tightly as he can hoping that he can hold you together.
How could you come to terms with what happened? It’s not like there’s a shrink that could be trusted with the information in your mind. It’s not like that many people knew what you were going through. You just wanted to be normal again.
When you calmed down, Dick continued to hold you tightly. You would sniffle here and there but other than that neither of you made any noise. When you slowly began to drift off, Dick stood from the loveseat. His hands held you securely to his chest as he carried you back to bed.
When you both laid down, you faced each other. There was hardly space between you but enough to look at each other. The light of the moon gave just enough light to be able to see prominent features of his face.
“It won’t be like this forever,” He promises, brushing his fingers across your cheek. Your eyes slowly begin to close.
“Do you think there’ll be an antique shop by the market tomorrow?” You wonder.
“I’m sure we can find one,” He whispers, tugging you to his chest. You snuggle close, lightly kissing his peck.
When the sun rose, neither of your were necessarily in a hurry to leave the comfort of the bed. It wasn’t until a little past noon did you two finally get up. You tried to be uplifting and happy as you went through the market but settled for content and not sobbingly falling apart.
You had nearly a half an hour of peaceful normalcy until you picked up on someone following you. You didn’t know if Dick noticed but you began directing him to a secluded alley. You were halfway down when you sensed something coming toward you.
Instinctively, you spun around and pushed Dick behind you. You hand flew up and caught the red arrow. Toward the end of the alley stood someone you used to get along with but now looked at you with murderous intent. You pushed Dick a good few feet away from you seconds before the arrow exploded. The explosion only singed parts of your outfit.
“Roy!” Dick snapped, glaring at the redhead. 
“Why do you get to walk away?” Roy snapped, gripping his bow. “You hunt us down and kill us for eight years.” He snarls.
“That wasn’t her, Roy” Dick tells him. “She didn’t have a choice,”
“How convenient for her,” Roy snaps. You cast your gaze to the ground in shame.
“What are you doing here Roy? What do you want?” Dick asks, standing with you shoulder-to-shoulder.
“I want justice,” Roy snaps. “You don’t get to slaughter people and just walk away,”
“It wasn’t her,” Dick growls, clenching his fists. “She wasn’t in control, she-”
“I’ll stand trial,” You cut Dick off. His head whips around to you. “The league will decide what happens,”
“They’ve already voted on what to do with you,” Dick reminds both you and Roy. “They know you weren’t in control. You’re just as much a victim as the others,” You look at Dick, your mind reeling.
“Then lets get the bastard that pulled my strings,” You say. You turn your head to Roy.
“They’ve already tried finding the ones that took you,” Roy says.
“Yeah, well they didn’t have me,” You tell him. “I have a better chance than anyone at finding them. You want justice? I want redemption. Let’s avenge those that died,” Roy stares at you, obviously intrigued with the idea. “I can’t do it alone, I’ll need help,”
“We’ll need a team,” Dick says. “Those we trust,” He emphasized. The last thing he wanted was someone convinced you were the problem and trying to kill you in your sleep. He would already have his hands full with the mission and keeping an eye on Roy.
“Have anyone in mind?” Roy tilts his head. 
“A few,” You mutter.
Within a couple of weeks, your team was put together. You convinced Conner to come so that you would have added muscle and someone strong enough to stand against you should the ones you’re going after rescramble your mind. Wally joined mainly to keep the mood lifted and tensions as low as possible. His naturally happy aurora would hopefully keep Roy from turning against you all and to keep him fighting with Dick. 
Plus him and Conner were your friends before all this happened and were the few that remained by your side after all these years.
The last to join was Jason. You added the Joker to the list of people you needed to take down. You wanted him because one, he’s your brother, and two, he’s willing to kill. He knew how to do what needed to be done and most of the people you were going after didn’t deserve a trial nor a second chance.
The six of you were a large and qualified team. You knew not to underestimate you opponent. You knew how to work together. And you all had a reason to fight.
For the first time you felt like you had a purpose, a true and righteous purpose.
“Are you sure you’re up for this?” Dick, dressed in his Nightwing, costume questions stepping up to you. You smile, readjusting your mask.
It didn’t feel right to become Nightshade again. You weren’t that person anymore. You were someone else now. Tim redesigned your costume as you donned a new name.
“This is something I need to do,” You tell him. “I don’t know if it’ll settle the nightmares or ease the guilt but hopefully it’ll give others a sense of closure if we get them and prevent this from happening again,”
“Ok,” Dick mutters, nodding. “If this gets too much, step back and let us handle it,”
“Please,” You smirk. “Without me, you idiots would be running around like chickens without a head,” Dick smirks widely. “Don’t worry so much, baby, it’ll be like old times,” You wink kissing his cheek. The simple kiss isn’t enough for him. His arm instantly slings around your waist and pulls you against him.
Dick presses his lips against yours. You breathe slowly through your nose and lean against him.
“Just like old times,” He murmurs against your lips.
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staywritten · 4 years
Text
Studio Time│Bang Chan
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Studio Time│Bang Chan
Synopsis: Your boyfriend is producing your groups comeback and you learn the downside of dating a perfectionist. 
Genre: one shot, angst-ish? Happy ending, idol!Chan, idol!reader, fluff with more fluff at the end.
Word Count: 2108
I wrote this fic like 5yrs ago for a different artist lol But I re-read it recently and still really liked it so I re-vamped it for SKZ. Especially after that episode of Weekly Idol when the members said Chan was sweet to them but he was really serious when he was making music, so I figured this was the perfect fit. 
When your label announced that your comeback album will be produced by Chan you weren’t really sure what to think. You prided yourself on keeping your careers separate, but on the other hand he was an amazingly talented producer and it wasn’t often that he produced for idol girl groups. 
At this point of his career he was expanding outside of doing work for just Stray Kids. It was an opportunity at which both parties benefited. He could grow his portfolio in a way that wasn’t possible when just producing for Stray Kids and he was an up and coming name in the industry.
You two didn’t date publicly but your members and management were aware of the relationship, so some of the pressure was lifted. You didn’t have to pretend like you didn’t know each other. 
Walking into the JYP building, you led your members to Chan’s signature studio. Despite coming to his studio pretty regularly, it was a little nerve racking coming to it for work. You felt just as nervous as you did when meeting a new producer. “Are you excited to work with Channie? How lucky are we! What kind of producer is he?” Your youngest member chimed, hooking her arm with you. 
You nodded laughing, giving her hand a little pat. “I guess we are pretty lucky.” Not many producers would be open to input, but since your members had a close relationship with your boyfriend you figured the atmosphere would be lighter. “I’m not sure how he is as a producer honestly. He’s never let me see him work before. Like I’ve seen him make beats, but never recording.”
As you all walked into his studio you smiled seeing him sitting with Han on the couch. “Wally!” you chimed giving the bright green wall a little pat. 
“What about me?” Chan pouted. 
“What about you?” you teased, giving him a wink. 
You did your group greeting and bowed, laughing at how silly it felt. Normally that would be saved for broadcast and fan meetings but it was a force of habit as a leader.
“Awww cute!” Chan chuckled before formally introducing himself just to cover the formalities. It wasn’t often you got to see your boyfriend while working, but you also had to keep in mind that you still had to work.
Chan walked over to you, pulling you into a hug. You wrapped your arms around his neck, smiling brightly. “I missed you” he grinned. You did your best to ignore the aweing from your other members and Han. His nose brushed down the bridge of yours. 
“I saw you this morning” you played with the hair at his nape.
“I know, I missed you this afternoon” he laughed, pecking your lips, lingering just a moment too long.
You giggled, melting into his arms. “Aww, you’re being really cute today” you whispered, pulling back to look at him. “Don’t look at me like that” a smile tugged at your lips, as you gently grazed your nails against his scalp. “We have work yo do”
“Mmmm” he sighed into your touch. “I’m just excited to make this song. I worked so hard on it, it’s perfect for you” he smiled. “I made it just for you”
“I can’t wait” you chimed, pulling away from him. He whined letting you step back, a cute pout on his lips.
“Awww you guys are cute, it’s kinda gross” Han pretended to choke back a gag before laughing and grabbing his bag. “I gotta head to an interview, so I’ll catch you guys later.”
After the formalities, he played the demo track for you. Your members loved it. It was fun, playful and it had a bit of an edge to it. You couldn’t wait to record it. That was one of the plus sides about working with your boyfriend. You were actually very vocal at home about the direction you wanted to go in with your group.
This would be your first track of the new year, and all of your members were officially adults now. You wanted something teasing, and mature, yet still youthful and in true Chan fashion, he nailed it. 
All that was left now was to record it.
One by one your members did their lines, recording their parts in manageable segments. Chan was very caring with them, almost holding their hand through the process. “Minah, try singing it like this.” he coached her through it, reiterating her part, and changing the articulation toward the end. 
She was your youngest, and still wasn’t completely confident in her own voice yet so she was a lot to handle. She did her best to follow directions, but sometimes things were just out of her vocal range and when that happened Chan adjust accordingly. He coached her to give her the confidence that was needed to reach the note. Once she adjusted he clapped and gave her a thumbs up. “Very good, that was perfect! One more time, from the top.” In the end he changed up her part to best suit her voice and she had a cleaner take. 
You were proud seeing him so kind. You couldn’t help but watch him with the brightest warmth in your eyes. Your group were like your baby sisters and he was being so good to them. 
Unfortunately Minah wasn’t the most difficult take of the day, but he worked with each one of them carefully. In their defense it was a difficult song to sing. It was a very dynamic with lots of changes, not only was this a genre change from your groups usual music it pushed your vocalist and rappers to step up.  
Soon enough it was your turn to record. 
Although you couldn't really call it recording. 
Chan wasted no time in stopping you every few words. Perhaps you were spoiled with how doting and sweet he was with your members. Because it seemed that he had no intentions of treating you in such a manner.
“Babe, can you do it seriously?”
“No- Again that sounds horrible”
“Do it again”
“Again, from the top.”
“Again”
“It’d be nice if I had a single sample I could use.”
“If you can’t do it, perhaps we should have someone else do it?”
“This is kind of embarrassing”
Was this even the same person? You understood constructive criticism. Constructive is what he was with your members. This was just being mean. You slipped off your headphones and glared at him when he stopped you again. That time you were in the middle of another take. It would have been nice to get a single line out with his opinion.
You hated that you wanted to cry.
You had to deal with some pretty tough critics. Producers, songwriters, choreographers, your CEO. Making an album was a high stress process with a lot of hands on deck. It was your job, so naturally it wasn’t going to go smoothly. Especially when everyone had different creative views, but this was the worst recording you’ve ever dealt with in the entirety of your music career. 
You just hated being yelled at. 
He knew that better than anyone. All those nights, you would come home from work and he’d have to console you after you’d been scolded. Chan knew that yelling immediately shut you down. You bit back your tears, wanting to hold it together for your members. You could see them struggling from behind the glass. It looked like they wanted to say something, at least tell Chan to ease up, but you shook your head and took a deep breath.
Normally you would avoid confrontation and just sing it the way the producer wanted, but you just couldn’t do it. Because what Chan wanted, wasn’t you.
You finally set the headphones on the rack inside before walking out. “Where are you going?” he frowned watching you take your backpack. “We don’t have anything for your part. We need to start from the beginning”
You shrugged. “Give my part to Jieun, she’ll do it better”
Jieun gasped before reaching out to you, shaking her head profusely. “What? But Unnie-”
“It’s fine” you gave her a small smile, trying to calm her. “I’ll call the company directly and tell them I can’t participate in the recording”
“But it’s our comeback track! You can’t not have a part in it” Minah grabbed your hand. She looked back at Chan “Tell her to stay.” Seeing the hesitation in his eyes she frowned more “Chan tell-”
“That’s enough.” you gave her head a small pat. “I’ll be fine. I just need to get out of here. I’ll check in on you later.” you looked to your second in command “Jieun you’re in charge.”
Chan rolled his eyes before crossing his arms over his chest. “So you’re just leaving? Do you always quit like this? Is that the way you lead?”
You froze, hearing his words. 
Was he trying to hurt you? What could you have possibly done? He was fine earlier. You gripped your fist, your body shaking before leaving the room with your head held high. You knew when someone was trying to get a rise out of you, and you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction.
On your way through the lobby you ran into Han. He smiled initially seeing you, but as you wiped away your tears he frowned. “Hey…”  His gentle voice pulled you out of your thoughts. It was too gentle. Almost sympathetic. You looked up, scrambling to bring a smile on your face. That signature idol smile you gave to the cameras. “You don’t have to do that…” he gave your shoulder a small pat. “Do you wanna get some coffee?”
You sat across from Han at the cafe across the street. He didn't push you to speak. He just gave you a moment to sort out your feelings, let you take your time and figure out what to say.
He sipped on his drink. “Chan-Hyung was being a jerk huh?”
It wasn’t really a question. There was a certain understanding in his voice. You looked up at him, your eyes narrowing. “Is he always like that?”
He chuckled. “Sometimes. Chan is a perfectionist. Always was. Always will be. There are times when our group has come to blows because Chan can just be a little too much when criticizing. Threatening to remove Changbin-Hyung’s part from the song, getting frustrated in vocal ranges…real harsh criticisms...things like that. I don’t even think he’s aware of when he’s doing it.” he sighed. “Like when we record it just seems like the stress finally gets to him.”
Your shoulders slumped. “But he was really nice to my members…Absolutely sweet to them…he was only mean to me. Not that I would want him to yell at my girls-I’d literally kill him. But…” you sighed staring into your coffee. “Why was he being so mean…”
“He was probably being extra careful with your members…”
“What do you mean?”
“When we were recording our collaborative stage with Niziu, Chan was really nice to them. Doting, constructive, an angel. But that day was hell on us. It’s like he had pent up frustrations and just couldn’t hold it in any longer. I swear Minho-Hyung almost quit that day.”
“What type of bullshit excuse is that?”
He shrugged. “No excuse. Just how it is…Like he can only be himself with people that he knows will forgive him. He can be an ass sometimes, but he sure does put out amazing songs.”
“But at what cost?” you sighed, taking a sip of your coffee.
Later that night Chan came home, sheepishly poking his head inside to see you sitting on the couch. His eyes widened as he entered. “You’re still here?” his voice a little more surprised than he’d like to let on. A lingering bit of reliefe to his tone.
You sighed turning the page of your book “I was going to leave your ass. But I figured we should at least talk. Despite what you make think of me. I’m not a quitter” you set your book down before crossing your arms. “So talk.”
“Look, I’m sorry about earlier. It’s just-” he groaned, raking his hand through his curly hair. “The track wasn’t going where I wanted to. It was getting away from me…The only way I’d like the track was for your part to be exactly what I envisioned...for you to bring everything back”
It made sense he did give you the biggest part of the song. The chorus, and bridge were the most memorable of his demo and he gave them to you. He even had you sing the demo for the company to pitch the idea. At the time you thought it was sweet, you had no idea the burden it’d be. 
It was obvious this song was made to be a solo for you.
“Your members did their best, but they just didn’t have the vocal range to do the song the way I envisioned it… So I made adjustments and compromises...” he sighed heavily. “And more adjustments...and more compromises...” he rubbed his temples. “Especially because if they can’t sing it at recording they wouldn’t be able to perform it on stage. So one change became another….” he sighed heavily, slumping into the chair. “I loved the song so much because it’s what I knew you wanted to release… But they just couldn’t...and…”
“I don’t think we can work together Chan…” you frowned. “You’re my boyfriend, and an amazing producer…but you can’t be both. In order for us to be happy with the track, and in order for me to be happy with our relationship we can’t work together.”
“We can still make it work. Let’s try again tomorrow.” he looked so hopeful. “I promise I won’t yell, and I-”
“You don’t understand Chan. You made me hate you.” your voice small, as you looked down. 
He sank down into himself. His shoulders slumping, hurt etched on his delicate features. Never in his lifetime would he have thought you’d say that. “You…You hated me?”
“I did…for a little bit…You made me hate myself…You made me feel like an inadequate leader, you made me question myself.” you hugged your knees. “I can’t feel like that ever again. I’m responsible for six other girls who look up to me. It’s so easy to get ransacked in this industry, to be pushed and pulled into concepts. They need to believe in me. I need to believe in me and my ability, but with you… I couldn’t. So for my sake…Let’s drop the project.”
He closed his eyes before nodding. “Alright…” He hated that he made you feel that way. He never intended it on getting that bad. He just panicked when he listened to the track, and you were the last person to record. You were supposed to be the saving grace of it. He wasn’t going to release something he didn’t at least like. Once again his overly perfectionist ways almost cost him something he wasn’t willing to lose. “I am sorry…” he whispered.
Producing was one of his greatest joys in the world, and singing was yours. There was just something so utterly heartbreaking knowing that you could never share your passions together. “I know…I’m sorry too.”
He bundled you in his arms, letting you lay your head on his chest. He pressed a kiss on top of your head. “I have one more compromise”
“You don’t give up do you?” you felt your lips tugging to a smile. “What’s your compromise lover boy?”
“What about I talk to your company into giving you this song for a solo for later this year? And you, me and Jisung write up a new song for your group comeback?”
“There’s no time”
He chuckled. “If anyone can write a song in crunch mode it’s Han Jisung” he smoothed down your hair. “I think with your help we can write something that’s mroe ideal for your girls”
“But a solo-”
“Baby I wrote that song for you.” he closed his eyes, pressing his forehead against yours. “That song was yours...And I need you to have it. You said your company was planning a solo debut anyway... so sing this.” 
“Chan I love you so much...But I can’t record an album with you”
His beautiful brown eyes gazed into you. “I offered you a compromise, offer me one too”
You pouted. “Fine, since you’re in the mood to make a deal. I’ll take your solo song only if I record with Jisung, and Changbin.”
“Deal” You smiled gently scratching his scalp, and placing a kiss at the base of his throat. “Mmmm...” a groan echoed from his throat. “I’m so sorry about today Baby”
“It’s fine” you relaxed into his touch as he traced patterns into your skin absently. You grinned. “It’s nice to know that you’re not perfect”
He chuckled, throwing his head back. “I never claimed to be perfect”
“Oh yeah?” You sat back, crawling onto his lap. A smile on your lips as you gazed into his eyes. “Mr. Perfect hair” you played with the hair on his nape. “Perfect smile” you placed a kiss on his lips. “Perfect dimples” your thumb brushing against his dimple. “Perfect voice” you pressed a kiss on his adam’s apple. “You are perfect in a million different ways.” you giggled “You’re just not meant t be my producer”
“I can live with loving you in a million other ways.” he stood up, lifting you in his arms and carrying you into the bedroom, your laughs echoing and filling the house.
End.
Hey Friends! I hope you enjoyed that. It was nice revisiting an old fic and breathing some new life into it. If you liked it let me know <3 
I’m sorry my Felix scenario is taking so long... I’ve rewritten it like 8 times and I’m getting a bit overwhelmed I’m gonna try and revisit it when my mind is clearer. I’ve been starting at the screen for far too long. 
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felassanis · 3 years
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Butch didn’t like it when people touched him.
It wasn’t that he couldn’t shake someone’s hand or accept a quick pat on the back. He didn’t dodge every fleeting touch like they were incoming missiles. But they were brief and short-lived. Often done with lack of conviction. He didn’t have time to wonder if a pat would turn into a push, if the person shaking his hand would keep holding on no matter how hard he pulled away. In any other scenario, long-lasting touches made him shiver. Made him itchy. Made him freeze in anticipation.
The last time someone held him properly...it was an unconventional situation. 
It started with the bad kind of touching. His mother drank heavily on Fridays, excusing herself by saying Friday’s were her day off. As if her alcoholism discriminated between days. Butch knew his role when she wound up slumped on the floor was to get her up, tell her she could have her party in her room where it would be more comfortable. Never say it was because he was helping her, she hated the feeling of being weak and it was a sure fire way of setting her off. 
This particular night. Wally and him got into a fight; not an uncommon occurrence between the two tunnel snakes but that didn’t mean it was no less severe. Butch wound up walking back to his room with a busted eye and feeling sore. Maybe it was selfish of him to pick Friday of all days to get on Wally’s nerves, but this fight had been a hot exchange of cruel words and violent hits. And finally ending with Butch with his tail inbetween his legs feeling crap about himself...
“You think you have the right to cry?” She said to him. Words slurring as spittle dripped from her mouth. He hadn’t been there five minutes, hanging in the doorway like he was intruding in on her, and already her eyes were burning with molten resentment. “What gives you the right?! You come home looking like that, bruises and cuts because you get into these fights. And you think you get to cry!?”
“I ain’t crying ma,” He mumbled, just wanting to get past her so he could crawl into bed. He avoids looking directly at her, partly because he doesn’t want to face her, partly because he’s trying to hide his black eye.
She laughed loudly, scoffing. Her whole body was slumped, her back against his bedroom door with limbs limp and unmoving like a ragdoll. Like the bottom part of her body was paralysed. Except her face; her face was expressive and constantly moving. Writhing like she was flitting between pain and ecstasy. Her mouth was twisted concoction of smiling and frowning, opening and closing as if she was speaking but no words - save for hoarse breathing - came out until she managed to form enough to yell at him.
“You’re always crying...always sobbing. You think I don’t hear you at night?” She snaps.
He swallows the thickening lump in his throat. 
“You think I’m a horrible mother,” She all of a sudden stops laughing and now her eyes are wet with tears. “You make me the bad guy….” She wails.
Her jarring shift in moods urges Butch to hurry to her side as she holds her head in her hands. He was hesitant to get close, it felt like poking the tiger. However, that sharp pang of guilt ate away at him. He shakily reaches for her shoulder. “I don’t think you're the bad guy! Honest ma! Don’t cry, don’t cry…”
As if he had burned her, she lurches herself from his touch, pushing him back hard and she rises to her feet. “Of course you do!” He chases after her, stands to her level.
He has to try and hold her. Even though he doesn’t want to, the anxiety that she might shatter into a million pieces because of him if he doesn’t hold her tight overwhelms him. But when he tries to reach her she hits his hand away, then when he withdraws a little too quickly he can see the hurt in her eyes.
“Ma, please.” His voice breaks.
“Oh for god’s sake!” She shouts. He flinches, worried someone is going to hear her and come running inside. Making her worse. “Do you think you’re the only one suffering!? I’m a widow with a spoilt brat who takes everything I do for granted! You lie and fight and most nights you spend in a cell instead at home with me! I bet you prefer it there don’t you? Yeah, you prefer slumming it in a cell making your mother worried sick! You’d do anything to get away from me!”
“That isn’t-” It’s a few steps forward, hand tantalisingly reaching for her in one last desperate attempt to somehow calm her down. Then a stuttering couple of steps back as he hits hard against the cupboard when she launches her fists into his chest. 
Before he can even process what just happened, before he can register the throbbing on the back of his skull, she’s running at him. Hands high in the air that collapse down on him with intense ferocity. She grunts as she hits him in the chest, the shoulders, the neck, the face. Hitting him where Wally had, sending the right part of his head exploding in pain as she does so. 
“Ma! Ma! Stop! Please!” He begs her as he is backed into a corner. Holding his hands up to try and deflect the blows. Is it blood or tears that drip down his face? Each time he manages to grapple her by the wrists, his hope and her hands slips through his fingers, impounding him with another barrage of bawled fists. Then suddenly, the sound of fist meeting flesh stops and it’s just him breathing hard waiting for the next punch and slap. 
He opens his eyes and Ellen is just staring at him. Her eyes are so wide he can see the whites of them clear as light.
“Get out,”
“What?”
“Get out,” She whispers. But before he can even will his body to move, she holds his face, fingers grazing against his cheeks and it takes every effort for Butch to not pull himself away from her. He’s so much taller than her, so much bigger too. Paul once told him he could easily defend himself, but is he supposed to do? Hit is mom? She has to extend her arms straight in order to reach him, yet he doesn’t dare move. He can’t. She stares at him intently, as if she’s searching for something. Then her eyes return to their dull haze and she lets him go. He breathes a sigh of relief, the space where her fingers were against his cheek feels cold. 
“Get the fuck out, Butch,” She lets out a weary breath, then after a moment of silence she’s got her back to him and stumbles into her room. The hissing of the door closing is the last thing he hears as her steps dwindle into nothingness. Likely her finally collapsing into bed.
He does what he’s told. Gladly. 
There’s a vent from the corridor that enters the Vault’s supply room. The very same room Ellen enters with someone from security after she’s slept with them in order to get another bottle. 
Butch isn’t quite what security is looking for, so he squeezes himself into the vent like his life depends on it and sneaks into the supply room. Pocketing a bottle of whiskey and whisking himself from the room as quickly as he had entered. 
The whiskey feels heavy in his hands. The inebriated fog already dulled his senses as he topples down the fluorescent lit corridor with the kind of fake confidence that makes him look like he belongs, so that not one soul will question the bottle in his hands - or the lateness for which he stubbornly stays awake. If anyone dared to, he fears he’ll wind up in another fight and it’s the last thing he wants. But he can’t trust himself to just walk away.
Nah, laziness and incompetence will do its job. Tonight he can drink himself blind and just try to forget about everything...
For a moment, all feels still in the Vault. As if Butch is the only waking soul inside of it. And he finds unsettlement at that imagery, of being alone with the silence. It feels like he’s been put inside a coffin and buried 12 deep under with a heart that still beats. 
Then reminding him he’s not alone in these catacombs. Comes a couple of steps walking down towards him.
Butch expects security, then the vain hope that maybe his mother had come looking for him. But instead Butch sees James O’Shea, the vault doctor sauntering down the corridor with his clipboard. Looking about as rough as him as he seems to be on his way back to his office. Until their eyes meet.
James stops as Butch approaches. And he quickly spots the whiskey and the bruises.
“Keep walking, Doc,” He hasn’t the energy to even try and feign niceness to the teacher’s pet dad. James and Butch had never really had a conversation, not since they were kids and James patched up his scraped knee that his stupid daughter gave him. Butch didn’t really like him all that much, not because of his daughter...Butch wasn’t really sure what it was that made the Doc rub Butch the wrong way. But it was there.
“Did you drink any of that or just pour it on yourself?” If Butch had been a little drunker, he might’ve taken that as an insult. But when Butch stops just before he rams through James, he sees the man is smiling politely at him. It catches him off guard. 
“C’mon son,” James says, tucking his clipboard under his arm and motioning to Butch to accompany him. “I can patch you up and you can sleep it off back at home,”
James goes to reach for his arm and it sets off alarm bells in his head. Home? Don’t have a home unlike you.
“Hey! Get off!” Butch yells, yanking his arms away so quickly that he loses hold of the whiskey. It goes spiralling to the floor, erupting in a loud crash as brown liquid bleeds all over the ground. 
“Well that’s just fucking great,”
James steps away. “I think that’s perhaps for the best. You don’t need to go putting anymore of that in your system,”
“What the fuck do you know about it?” Butch confronts, turning on James with the same look his mother gives him. “That’s your fucking fault!”
“It’s nobody’s fault, just an accident. And there might be a lot more unless you do as I suggest. You don’t want to be wandering the hallways until security catches you, Butch,” James tries to rationalise, and in that moment Butch hates rational thinking. He wants to hit something.
“You’re right about there being another accident,” He grumbles, lurching himself at James. 
He didn’t know why he did it. Just that every bone in his body was pushing him to assault James. Maybe to take his anger out the pacifistic doctor or to win a fight he knew he could win. Or thought he could win. With every intention of pressing James against the wall, Butch sees his world hurtle when instead his arm gets swung behind his back; his face coming at great impact with the wall that he swears one his teeth chipped. And lastly, something sharp presses into his ribcage, threatening to draw blood…
Butch doesn’t move, doesn’t so much as breath as he hears James’s teeth grind behind him; the man prods him further with the sharp object. “This yours?” He asks, voice burning in such a fury it could have drawn fire. And Butch realises the sharp thing sticking into his side is his ‘toothpick’.
Had he even attempted to get that out?! Or did James take it before he could?
He quickly nods, words being the last thing he could muster in this moment through his whimpering as his childhood rival’s dad, the kind soft doctor of Vault 101, has him pinned against the wall threatening to stab him with a knife. How could he even move that fast? Butch never even saw him coming. The guy had to be at least forty, with rickety bones that creaked. Butch thought it must have been the whiskey dulling his own reflexes. But he knew better...the doc had some tricks up his sleeve and he realised it too late.
“Considering you and my daughter are more often and not at each other’s throats you’ll forgive me if I take this,” James says, relinquishing the blade from Butch’s side. Followed by the sound of him putting it in his lab coat pocket. Keeping a firm hold on Butch’s arm till it was on the verge of its breaking point. Applying just enough pressure here and there that it makes Butch’s bone feel like it will snap and pierce his skin. 
“Now, just what was your plan then? Mr Deloria?” He says, taunting him. Pressing his weight into him harder that it feels like he’ll be crushed between him and the wall. 
Butch’s heart feels like it is going to burst from his chest. Is he going to break my arm? He’d know exactly how to do it, being a doctor and all. “N-Nothing,”
“Nothing? It didn’t look like nothing. It seemed like you were trying to assert some dominance you think you have,” James starts, talking loudly in Butch’s right ear. “Throwing your weight around like some playground bully. Well, I won’t be pushed around, Butch. And if you ever try something like this with me again, or I find out you used this switchblade on Gwen, I’ll do much worse than break your arm do you understand?”
Butch nods.
“Good,”
James finally releases his hold on Butch, and not another second does Butch quickly bring his hand to his face. Trying to hide himself.
“I didn’t touch your face will you-...Butch?”
Butch doesn’t turn around, just presses his forehead to the wall as the tears flow freely again. He really was a mess, getting into fight after fight. With Wally, with his mom, now with the Doc. Whether it was all the bruising on his body, the high from the danger of a knife being pressed against him or just the alcohol yanking all his woes out of him like stabbing a water bottle. Butch can’t stop the tears that fall freely. No matter how hard he tries to bite the inside of his cheeks till they bleed, or how he slightly digs his nail deliberately into the bruise on his eye. Any kind of sensation that might distract him from crying is all for nought as sobs wracked his body.
He can feel James standing there. Unsure of what to do, unsure to touch him or not. After that debacle, Butch might just headbutt him if he tried. And yet, he feels a hand press on his shoulder, as if to stop his back from heaving as he couldn’t hold it in anymore. Butch tenses at this, like his whole body has suddenly been strung up.
“Does the clinic still sound like such a bad idea?” James suggests.
Butch breathes in a shaky, hot breath. He just wanted him to go away. “The hell’ you talking about? I don’t want anything from you,” 
“You can either look like this in the hallway, Butch. Or you can come with me to the clinic before anyone else sees,” He explains calmly and so matter-of-factly. Knowing fully well what Butch was going to do before Butch even did. 
At this, Butch thinks about the fact that the man basically offering him sanctuary was the same who had just held a knife to his ribcage a minute ago. Which causes Butch’s tempation to storm down the hallway flare up like a rash. Hell, he was tempted to try and start another fight with him again, if his whole body didn’t feel like it was on the verge of collapsing. God, he was so tired, he just wanted to lay down. But storm off where? He couldn’t go home, and he couldn’t sleep in the Vault’s hallways. He’d just get shooed off by security like an unwanted cat, or hauled into a cell till morning. And James had his blade, not that he probably needed it to deck Butch anyway, but he did want it back. Plus, he obviously knew he was crying, and what little dignity Butch had urged him to go somehwere private until the wrong person saw Butch Deloria bawling his eyes out. Last thing he needed was Officer Gomez spotting him. So he nods slowly at James with puffy red eyes. The clinic at least had beds and the two men headed further down the hallway. Out of sight as they duck into the doc’s clinic. 
He half expected to see nosebleed in the clinic; waiting patiently for daddy-dearest to clock into the clinic so they could go home or whatever. But he was grateful that Gwen was nowhere to be found. The clinic was quiet and - was it always this white? - with the medicinal aroma of antiseptic. 
“Sit on the bed,” James doesn’t even look at him as he heads over to a set of drawers. Pulling out some equipment. Butch does as he’s told and heads over to one of the clinic beds, sitting on the end and tugging on the sleeve of his Tunnel Snake’s jacket.
Silence except for the doc’s rummaging through a metal drawer. Butch thinks this silence will suffocate him; feels it on his skin like a weight. Why was the doc helping him? Did he think he made Butch cry? The fucking gall if he did. Been through enough shit that I don’t cry at, ain’t about to let some doctor bring the water works. I can’t believe he thinks he’s that important to make Butch Deloria cry. Pull yourself together.
James comes back with a blue cloth, some bottles and some wipes. 
“I can’t do much for the bruising,” He begins, handing Butch what appears to be an ice pack wrapped in fabric. “But I can at least clean the split lip. Though that whiskey of yours might’ve numbed it enough already,”
“Cool,” Butch mumbles under his breath. What was he supposed to say?
When James leans in to dab his lip with the cloth, Butch looks away so they’re not looking at each other; unable to stand that calm, almost stoic expression on the doc’s face. He should be angry, why wasn’t he angry?
“Why are you helping me?” The question had to be asked. What was the doc after with this special behaviour? He’d done absolutely nothing to warrant it, and if he had his way beforehand, he’d be sending the doctor into the clinic on a stretcher.
James breathes a sigh through his nose. Like he was trying with all of his might to remain composed.“Because I am a doctor,” Telling himself his duty was more important than knocking some sense into a dumb kid.
“Oh yeah? Do doctors normally learn how to move like that?” He counters, looking at him now. It was still unbelievable to him how fast this old bag moved. “I want my toothpick back by the way,”
“You’re drunk and much younger than me, Butch. Is it so surprising I was able to subdue you?” 
Butch winces as his lip stings from all the contact. “Where’s my toothpick?” He asks again.
James rolls his eyes. “Evading the question, spectacular way to try and save your ego. And you’re not getting it back,”
Butch flinches away from the doc’s fingers, looking outraged. James didn’t seem bothered, done with padding his lip anyway as he sets the cloth back down.
“You can’t just take it, it ain’t yours old man!”
“Oh? Do you want to try and win it back from this old man?” James stops sorting his equipment. Looking Butch dead in the eye with an unreadable face; he was still - almost frozen - so suddenly unmoving that it felt like if Butch so much as breathed wrong the doctor would spring to life and knock him down.
He again diverts his gaze away from the man muttering a grumbling “Whatever,” Until suddenly James begins to chuckle aloud. Catching him off guard. “What’s so funny?”
“I sometimes forget you're just a kid,” He says and it’s like he is seeing Butch for the first time ever. And he looks utterly conflicted. “That your not the single greatest evil my daughter has to face; just some poor kid covered in bruises and trying not to cry in the hallway,”
“Is that meant to be funny? You find that funny, doc?”
“No, Butch. I don’t find it funny at all, it's downright tragic is what it is. You’re obviously struggling and yet no one pays attention. Your behaviour is an obvious cry for help and yet everyone leaves you to be security’s problem. And it builds up till your bumbling down the hall drunk and afraid,” James’s smile falters, dying on his lips as he gives Butch a sympathetic look that makes him tense up. “I’m sorry for hurting you,”
“I mean, I probably would have kicked the shit out of you,” Butch rationalises. 
“Maybe, but I shouldn’t have leaned into you so hard,” Butch holds his breath when James goes to continue. “If I told you to go home right now, where would you go?”
It was an odd question, but Butch decides to answer it honestly. “Probably walk around till Officer Gomez or one of his lackeys pulled me into one of the holding cells,” His voice sounded so frail, so fragile. Hardly above a whisper.
“Not home to your mother?”
Butch raises the ice pack to his eye. “No,”
Processing his words in his head, Butch can imagine what is going on his head as his eyes look over the bruises, the cuts and red eyes. Tying his inability to go home like he was tracing red string on a conspiracy board. 
“Butch, did your mother give you those bruises?”
He should have expected that question but still his heart rate spikes. Mind floundering in a shallow sea of excuses and explanations; yes and no? Only a few of them? But I deserved it, I came home late and she was worried sick. She was teaching me to be more punctual, to not take her for granted? But will I ever learn? No, so I get hit again and again. Because nothing gets through this thick skull of mine. I’m the thing from a poor marriage she can’t get rid of, I’d beat me too.
Beatings at home, can’t even escape ‘em when I’m with the Tunnel Snakes...or in a cell.
“Come here, son,” 
That did it. That three lettered word pulls the plug on his dam of tears and Butch can’t find the strength to pry James from him as the man envelops him into a half hug. His arm around his shoulders like a cloak as Butch holds his wet face in his hand. 
It didn’t make Butch want to crawl out of his skin when James held him. Rubbing circles into his back as he just remained present while Butch shamelessley cried. Once, Susie Mack had tried to pull him into a hug during their school graduation; it was like she was covered in muck. He couldn’t think of anything possibly worse than remaining in that embrace for much longer. Even when Paul - poor Paul - tried to grasp his shoulder after a rough day, Butch shrugged him off. Afraid the guy would break into a million pieces if he held onto Butch - a bull in a china shop - for much longer. Even touches that meant no harm or violence felt like the first inch of a bawled knuckle right before it knocks you off your feet. 
But with James...Butch couldn’t deny it was exactly how he imagined as a kid his father holding him in childhood fantasies of his dad coming back to the Vault. It felt safe. For the first time in the Vault, Butch felt fucking safe.
“If you ever need a break, or just someone to patch you up. My clinic is always open,”
“Thanks,” Butch sniffs….
--------
“That sounds like him,” Gwen says. Wiping her cheeks free of tears. Not for long, as more replace them as she looks at Butch fondly. “God, it really does,”
Butch smiles, tracing circles on her knuckles. “Course, now I know where the hell he got those moves from. Your old man must have been quite the scrapper when he was out here,” He comments, looking out briefly to the scene of the Wasteland - coming up with made up scenarios James O’Shea must have found himself in. The pacifistic doctor; an unscrupulous Wasteland mercenary hauling out the drunks from the Muddy Rudder and punching slavers - before returning to Gwen. “He was a good man, Gwen. He had a good life, and he helped those around him. He’s not gonna be forgotten,”
Gwen nods. “Yeah, you’re right,”
He looks at Gwen who stares off sadly towards the shallow grave he helped her dig. Putting in her dad’s lab coat - all that was left of James O’Shea - in place of a corpse. A small, wooden cross sticking out from the earth to mark the gravesite. He looks at the girl he loves - but is too much of an unworthy coward to admit that to - and sees the same compassion, the same empathy her dad had in her eyes. A girl who just wanted to make things better.
And like both O’Shea’s, he felt better off for having them in his life.
“Time to finish what he started?” Butch asks, his grip on her hand tightening. Not wanting to let it go anytime soon.
Gwen asserts a look of pure, burning determination. Like she has slipped on a mask. 
“Yeah, let’s finish what my dad started, together,”
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backtothestart02 · 4 years
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Mixed Drink - 19/? | westallen fanfiction
A/N: This one was harder to write, but I hope you enjoy it!
Commissioned by @andromidagalaxie
...
Chapter 19 -
A few days later, Iris found herself still at work an hour after her shift had ended, gnawing on her lip and still unsure of what to do.
She still hadn’t called or texted Jesse. She had to give the girl credit. She hadn’t bothered her once. She’d waited patiently for Iris to contact her. She had said she’d contact her in a few days though, and a few days it had been.
Tell her everything?
How dangerous would that be? And what would she do with that information? She said she wouldn’t share it, but would she cave and tell Wally, or worse yet, Joe and Francine? She might have the best of intentions, but some of the worst things in the world happened with the best intentions.
She was so occupied staring at the floor with her chin propped in her hand that she didn’t even register the presence of someone walking towards her.
“Made a decision yet?” the voice asked, and when Iris looked up, she saw the object of her thoughts staring down at her softly. She didn’t look angry or annoyed, just curious.
“Jesse, hi.”
“Hey. May I?” She gestured to the other side of the booth Iris was sitting at.
Iris nodded, forcing a smile on her conflicted face.
“How’ve you been?” Jesse asked, as if the real question she wanted to ask wasn’t plain as day written on her forehead.
“Alright,” Iris played along, needing the small talk somehow. “You?”
“I’ve been fine. School, you know. And Wally…”
Iris’ brows furrowed. “Are things all right with Wally?”
“Hmm? Oh, yeah, they’re fine. It’s just…” She licked her lips.
“You want to know my answer,” Iris finished for her.
“It has been a few days,” Jesse said weakly, as if she was afraid to remind her. “That is what you asked for.”
Iris nodded. “It is.”
“Have you…thought about my proposal?”
“Is this a school assignment?” Iris asked, only half-joking.
“I am taking a journalism class just for fun, but no, it’s not an assignment.”
That’s how it started for me too, Iris thought to herself. A journalism class for fun.
She’d developed a passion for writing and reporting so fast, investigating, finding out the truth and sharing it, letting justice prevail. But her love for it had also quickly become the downfall of the entire West family. Ever since then she’d wandered in the wilderness of her life, never succeeding at what she loved so much.
Every place of employment she went to, her heart ached too fiercely, her passion bending the rules before she’d elevated to a place where she could bend them. She was never promoted, never praised, and in the end fired for reasons that sometimes seemed like they came out of thin air. Sometimes they were legitimate – not sticking to assignments ever or sneaking into places where her badge did not allow, places that were dangerous apparently. But sometimes she would be fired without a reason and without any warning, and with no recommendation letter either, which left her truly wondering if she was cursed to have such a love for something she couldn’t seem to succeed at.
“Iris?”
She blinked and found Jesse looking at her with furrowed brows again, a concerned expression if she ever saw one.
“Um…”
“If your answer is no, it’s okay to say so. It’s eating me alive not being able to do something as I see your family continue to fall apart, but…I won’t push you. Like you said, some things just can’t be fixed.”
Iris eyed her suspiciously.
“You don’t strike me as someone who gives up that easily.”
Jesse hesitated. “Do you mind if I ask you a few questions – not related to your past?”
“Okay.”
That seemed safe enough.
“Why are you working at Jitters, of all places?”
Iris raised her eyebrows, amused.
“Jitters is a nice place.”
“For a first job maybe,” Jesse said. “Or a job to hold you over while you’re going to school or until the next big thing comes along.” She paused. “Is there a next big thing coming along for you?”
Iris didn’t like how unsettled the question made her. She hadn’t actually thought much into the future except making her part of the rent and having Barry in her life. Eventually she wanted to try being a reporter again, but right now she was so depleted from all her failed attempts that she didn’t even want to think about it.
“Not yet,” she finally said. “But for right now it’s enough.”
“Do you have someone special in your life right now?”
Iris grinned at that. She was shameless about the man in her life. She didn’t mind sharing that aspect one bit.
“As a matter of fact, I do.”
Jesse looked surprised, but Iris ignored her.
“Really? What’s his name?”
“His name is Barry.” Iris beamed.
“How long have you known each other?”
“Just a few weeks, but I feel like I’ve known him my whole life.” She sighed happily.
“Where did you two meet?” Jesse asked, slipping into girl talk mode more than investigative reporter.
Iris hesitated. “…in a bar.”
“Ah.”
“A one-night stand I’ll never regret.”
“Mm.”
Iris could feel the waves of disapproval coming off of Jesse and immediately got defensive.
“How did you and Wally meet?” she asked, crossing her legs beneath the table.
“Well…as much as I’d like to say a study group or something of that nature, it was also a bar.”
Iris’ jaw dropped. Maybe she’d judged too quickly.
“No way.”
“Way.” She laughed. “Celebratory drinks after a successful Math and Science Club competition. Wally apparently saw me across the room where he was with his engineering buddies and had a drink sent over. I invited him to do karaoke with me and the rest is history.”
“You’re telling me my baby brother didn’t so much as make a move the night you met?”
“Well, there might have been some making out in the women’s bathroom after we sang karaoke. He was apparently shocked I could sing, on top of math and science genius.” She lowered her voice to confide. “I graduated high school at 16 too.”
“Am I supposed to be impressed?” Iris asked, even though the look on her face told Jesse that she was.
“Wally was.” She smirked.
“So, what are you now, 18?”
“Nineteen,” she said. “Close though.”
Jesse’s energy was contagious, and Iris found herself smiling. She liked this girl. She liked her a lot. She didn’t know if she trusted her with such a precious secret, but she liked her. She approved of her brother’s girlfriend.
Iris sobered up.
“Tell me why I should trust you, Jesse.”
Jesse grew serious too.
“Because I’m the only tie to you and the other West’s that genuinely has the best intentions at heart. I want to see your family whole again.”
“And if I tell you, you’ll what? Tell Wally and hope the information makes him instantly forgive me and we can tackle our parents together?”
“Something like that. Though I intend to make more of a game plan before just dumping all the information on him, especially given what he thinks of you right now.”
Iris stiffened. “Right.”
“Iris?”
“Mm?”
“He’s wrong. I know it.”
“And if he’s not?”
“We’re not family yet. I can choose to give you a second chance without Wally’s permission.”
“You’re gutsy, I’ll give you that.”
Jesse waited a beat then asked, “So? What do you think?”
Iris took a deep breath and then jumped in with both feet.
“Okay. Tonight. Meet back here five minutes after we close. I’ll let you in, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Promise?”
Iris hesitated, but then nodded.
“Promise.”
Shortly after Jesse left, Iris decided she’d spent enough time at Jitters and wanted to go home.
Maybe Tom would be parked outside to take her to the hotel. He had been the past few days, but she was running out of clothes to change into for the next day at work. She should probably go home first and meet Barry at the hotel room later. They could have room service bring them a candle light dinner like they had last night and spend the night just relaxing with each other before inevitably having sex.
Well, maybe the sex would have to be delayed until later if she was going to come back to Jitters around 10 that night in order to talk to Jesse.
In order to talk to Jesse.
Wow. She couldn’t believe she’d actually agreed to that. This would change everything.
A heaviness settled over her that she quickly shook off. She could think of the gravity of all of this when she came back later. Now she had to get some clothes and-
She paused. Because right there behind one of the glass windows was her tall, handsome man, Barry Allen.
Her heart leapt into her throat, and she hurried outside to greet him by jumping into his arms. He laughed and held her tight before setting her down and kissing her.
“What a greeting,” he said, smiling wide.
“I’ll say.”
Her eyes were bright, and her cheeks were flushed.
“I missed you.”
“I missed you, too.”
He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear and swept his curled finger across her nose, cheek, and chin. She was smiling wide when he finished.
“You take my breath away, Mr. Allen.”
“That’s at least one good thing I can do today,” he said.
Iris started to frown.
“That doesn’t sound good.”
He sighed.
“I have to work late tonight, really late. You can still come to the hotel if you want to, but I don’t know how much I’ll be around.”
“I thought you’re only on call for late nights, not actually scheduled.”
“Yeah, well, this one unfortunately was scheduled, and I just was not informed until today.”
“I see.” Her face fell.
“I’m sorry.”
He weaved his fingers through her hair, and she looked up at him.
“I still want to go to the hotel. We can have dinner together at least, yeah?”
He forced a smile. “Sure, Iris.”
“Oh, but first we need to stop at my place. I need more clothes to work in for the rest of the week.”
“Don’t you ever get a day off?”
She laughed. “Day after tomorrow is my day off, so I guess technically I only need one more dress.”
“You like wearing dresses?” he asked, sneaking his arm through hers and guiding her across the street to where the limo was waiting for them.
She nodded as she stepped into the vehicle, smiling at Tom as she went.
“They’re fun to wear.”
“Easy to get out of too, I imagine,” Barry murmured, and Iris knew they’d only half be eating dinner that night. The rest of the time would be taken up with losing themselves in each other in the best way they knew how.
“You’ve learned that easily enough that week, haven’t you?” she teased.
He chuckled. “It’s been a fun lesson to learn.”
“Then come here, Mr. Allen,” she said, pulling him near her. “Show me what you’ve learned.”
He went with her and plastered a sexy grin on his face.
“Gladly, Ms. West,” he said, and slipped his hand up her dress to squeeze one ask cheek underneath.
Iris yelped, and Barry swallowed it with a kiss.
Just beyond them, Tom brought up the partition and turned on the music.
In the middle of the night, adorned in all black, Barry stepped into the shadows of the museum in downtown Central City.
He’d taken down the security system and the laser defenses and was now lying in wait for the criminals to come and take their prize – or attempt to take thei, the stunning painting with a usb inside that detailed important government information that was best kept out of their hands.
“Are you in, Barry?” Felicity’s voice said directly into his ear.
He pushed the com in closer and lowered his voice to almost silent.
“Yeah, I’m in. It’s quiet as a mouse in here.”
“Not for much longer. Look to your left.”
Barry pushed himself further back into the shadows and looked to his left as Felicity had instructed.
“I see him.”
“He has two guns on him. See the bulge at his ankle?”
“Yeah, I see.”
“We have to catch this guy and whoever’s with him. I’m your back-up, Barry. Follow him to the painting.”
“On it.”
And so, Barry waited a till the man started to move, foolishly right into the moonlight on his way to the painting. He followed him then, discreetly. From room to room he waited, making sure he didn’t make a sound with each step he followed him.
Then they were both inside the room where the painting resided, and Barry pulled a gun out of his pocket.
“It’s over, Slick.”
The man spun around just as he was about the reach for the painting.
“Who are you?” he gasped, and Barry realized at that moment that this wasn’t the guy they were looking for this. This was an amateur. And why would a professional use an amateur to come steal his prize possession?
Unless he knew someone would try to stop him…
“Hello, Mr. Visier.”
Barry turned around, the name he’d put on his job application familiar to him.
“I knew it was a mistake hiring you, but I did it anyway.”
Barry’s brows furrowed. “Wha-”
The man punched him to the ground, and then a few more times until he was unconscious.
“Barry! Barry, are you all right? Barry?” Felicity’s voice sounded in his ear, but neither men heard it.
The sound of Barry’s bulletproof vest being unzipped was heard in Felicity’s ear as well as a gunshot following it. Her eyes widened in a panic. She clutched at her speaking device.
“BARRY!”
After a romantic, steamy early evening with Barry, the last thing Iris wanted to do was go and tell her dark life story to Jesse Wells.
Still, a promise was a promise, and since Barry was gone when she woke up from her post-coital nap, she decided to get ready in the clothes she’d come in and head over to Jitters.
What she didn’t expect was the brunette not to show.
Iris waited over an hour and actually fell asleep waiting until a pounding at the door woke her. She sat up immediately, expecting it to be Jesse, but the sight before her stole her breath.
It was Wally.
Unsure of what was going to happen, she reluctantly made her way across the shop and unlocked the door for him.
“Wally, what are you-”
“So, this is your meeting spot, huh? With my girlfriend?”
She froze. “She told you.”
“No. She came over and this fell out of her pocket.”
He dropped the small recorder on a nearby table. Iris’ eyes widened. She’d had no idea Jesse had been recording her.
Wally pressed play on what he presumably wanted her to hear.
“Okay. Tonight. Meet back here five minutes after we close. I’ll let you in, and I’ll tell you everything.”
“Promise?”
“Promise.”
He stopped the recording.
“So, what exactly were you going to tell her?” He took a seat at the table. “Because I’d love to know too.”
Iris bitterly sat back down and glared at him.
“You came late for someone who was following instructions.”
“Who said I was following them?”
“You had a fight,” she deciphered.
“You had no business getting my girlfriend involved.”
Iris scoffed. “She got herself involved. Sought me out. Twice!”
“You should’ve denied her.”
“Why? You afraid I’ll tell her the truth?”
He laughed. “And what is the truth, Iris?”
She was about to answer, about to spit something truly awful back in his face, but her phone rang in her pocket. She saw it was an unknown number and ignored it, but then it called back again and again, and so she stood up and answered it, much to Wally’s dislike.
“Hello?”
“Hi. Is this Iris West?”
“Who’s asking?”
“My name is Felicity Smoak. I’m a co-worker of Barry’s. I was with him during his… During his shift tonight.”
Iris got a nasty feeling in her gut. She slowly sat down at the next table over to gain some privacy from Wally’s glaring eyes.
“This is Iris,” she said, her voice quivering.
There was a pause before the woman continued.
“There’s something you should know.”
...
*will be posted on AO3 and FFnet when beta’d.
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chronicbeans · 1 year
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Meet "Boss" (aka another Welcome Home OC from my stories/AU)
They have a lot more dark topics, so I'ma just put some trigger warnings in case. Most are only lightly touched on or hinted at, though some are more in-depth.
TW: Cult Recruitment/Activities, Manipulation, Brief Mention of Grooming through Media (with the purpose being to make individuals join a cult), Mysterious Disappearances, Narcissism/Narcissistic Behavior, Obsessive Behavior
👔Basic info, like the first one. He is a young man named William Dorelaine. He is the younger brother of Ronald Dorelaine, who first came up with the idea for Welcome Home alongside Caesar Jones. William took over as boss, in place of his brother, after just a few episodes. He did so because Ronald went missing under mysterious circumstances. He doesn't have a partner or kids, but people have noted how he complains about being single.
👔 If you couldn't already tell by the tags, William is a part of a cult. Specifically, a spiritual/religious based one. He actually works as a recruiter for his cult. When he took over as boss, he quickly got to work on changing the show up a little. He made it so that the whole dynamic between the characters was more like a cult, with the intention being to groom children into thinking that these behaviors are normal. Wally works as the cult leader, being at the center of the neighborhood both socially and physically. The neighbors represent other members of the cult and Home is meant to loosely represent a divine power, being the only living house in the neighborhood and having a tight bond with Wally. Everyone acts so nice and makes a tight bond with the viewer. It's meant to teach kids that, if a kind person (even a stranger) wants to talk to you or even ask you to join them in a fun, interesting group/community, it is okay to say yes! They will treat you well!
👔 William actually hates kids. Like, he actively hates kids. If he sees one on the street while walking somewhere with someone (probably a fellow cultist), he will turn to his friend and whisper something like "look at that snot-nosed brat... I'm glad our group doesn't allow kids. It's disgusting..."
👔 He can and WILL make you disappear. How do you think Ronald went missing? He has friends (cultists) who care very deeply about their group (cult), so he can just say you are a risk to their plans (ascension). Then... POOF! You're gone! No one knows what really happens to them besides William and his friends, but no one's been found, yet.
👔 William doesn't like anyone at the studio, really. He can pretend to like them VERY well, though. He can even pretend to be their friends, although, he will never see them that way. He only considers his fellow cult members friends. In fact, he feels closer to them than his own family. Caesar is the most annoying, though. He constantly questions him, but he also feels as though he can't just have him disappear. He is essential to the show, due to being the last remaining person from its conception. If he got rid of Caesar, there would probably be controversy. Then, controversy starts investigations. Then investigations could result in William being exposed.
👔 Not much is known about the cult William is a part of, but it is known that it has a lot to do with night and day cycles, as well as time in general. Drawings of Suns and Moons happen to litter the walls of the studio and Welcome Home never seems to openly show nighttime in any episode. Clocks seem very important, too, as his house and office are full of them. He claims to just collect them.
👔 He is a somatic narcissist, meaning that he specifically takes narcissistic pride in his appearance. He will spend hours obsessing over the smallest of things, from his hair to his skin, to make sure he looks perfect and better than everyone else. It is one of the reasons why he is so distraught over being a single man. In his eyes, people should be ADORING him left and right. He wants, no, NEEDS compliments about his everything. His hair, his eyes, his skin, even his teeth are all perfect, so why hasn't anybody asked him out, yet? He doesn't understand that, although he might look nice, live isn't just about looking handsome. Needless to say, he wouldn't be the best partner to a lover, so it is good that most people seem to stay away from a romantic relationship with him.
👔 If he were to ever find someone who embodies the values of the cult, as in they act and follow the values without being a part of the cult or knowing anything about it, he would go nuts for them. It would most likely be the only time that he would EVER treat someone as if they were above him. He most likely wouldn't even see them as a human being, instead claiming that they might be something above human. The problem is, with his narcissistic tendencies, he would feel as if he DESERVES them, so he would pursue them relentlessly. Due to the mysterious nature surrounding the cult, though, no one but the members know why someone simply embodying the values of the cult would be so important.
👔 If he were to ever figure out that something was up with the puppets, he would be soaring over both the Sun and Moon! He would take it as a sign that the cult's plans (ascension) is coming soon! Or maybe, it is a sign that his prayers are being answered! While in many cases Wally would worship/love the whoever controls him or helps him (which, William fits the first category in his own way), William would worship the puppets. He would believe that the life given to these inanimate objects are the possible embodiment of his cult's deities and/or ideals, which should be worshipped.
(Bruh I am going to write about this guy and Caesar Jones SO MUCH so I'm sorry if it makes my other writings for the Canon Welcome Home Characters x Readers a bit slower. I'll answer any questions about my Welcome Home OCs, too. Y'all don't have to, but I think it might help some people understand my current and future writings a bit more. OwO)
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red-winters · 4 years
Text
*Batfam fic-recs
*Some are Tim Drake Centric
**Some links are not working in mobile (and ONLY mobile) for some reason? And some titles that were bolded in the original post are ALSO not displaying on mobile correctly. Idk what to do about that, but you can still look up the fic, I guess.
The Bat’s Crest - livierambles
Note: I will always keep recommending this fic. It’s epic, thrilling, and hilarious and sometimes angsty. Also, everyone is confused, including the ones doing the confusing. Maybe especially the ones doing the confusing. Also, some Tim and Damian bonding, which is always nice.
Summary: Tragedy strikes the hero community when Bruce Wayne commits a crime so heinous even the best start asking for blood. However, as the heroes try to recover from the hit and carry out justice for their friends, a random assortment of people start acting oddly, including the current Speedy Tim Drake, a child hostage in Gotham, and a young man from an unremarkable circus amongst others. All of them seem intent on saving Bruce Wayne from the grasp of the Justice League for no apparent reason, going as far as betraying their previous allegiances.
Unknown to the Justice League, these people are equally confused. Clearly they're stuck in another dimension, but how do they get back? How did they even get here? Who else is stuck in this world? And how long will Tim's patience last? Back home, the Bat was a planetary symbol that struck fear in the hearts of criminals. In this new world, it has no meaning, save for the handful of stranded souls.
In the Shadows - Kieron_ODuibhir
(shortened) Summary:
“I’m not like you.”
The cowl still looked like something he was wearing, but Clark knew it was not. It flexed like skin when Batman narrowed his blank white eyes and said, “I can see you know that.” 
Chirp - AmariT
Summary: Every piece of the signal Tim unlocked revealed more locks, and by the time he broke through the last one, he was already mentally rehearsing his many upcoming talk show appearances. 'Yes,' he told the interviewer, 'it was difficult for me, a ten-year-old genius, to break open the worldwide alien conspiracy. That's why it took a whole hour.'
When the crackling audio started, he expected some weird alien language. Maybe squawks and high-pitched squeals mixed with musical woofs. Maybe they wouldn't talk at all, and images would beam directly into his mind. Maybe they'd talk in practiced English with a Midwestern drawl like their other resident alien.
Instead he heard a low, guttural voice growling out of his computer speakers. "Robin," it said. "Are you in position?"
A Better Cage - Mangaluva
Note: I was absolutely DELIGHTED to see a Young Justice Crossover with the Justice Lords (Earth-50) from the animated Justice League series, which is near and dear to my heart. I admit I haven’t really had much time to hunker down and read this, but even skimming, it’s an intriguing piece of work. Also, Justice Lords.
Summary: Wally's grateful to have woken up at all, really. He just doesn't know what to make of the world he's woken up in. At least they want to find a way to his world as much as he does, if not exactly for the same reasons...
Common People - AmariT
Note: The Bat boys are all Bruce’s blood sons, but it still feels very much like a found family. I haven’t really read everything in this series, but I feel the author has an amazing grip on all the characters. Lovely and heartwarming.
Summary: His whole life, Jason’s mom had told him his dad was Bruce Wayne, but he’d never been dumb enough to actually believe it. They lived in a rundown, one-room apartment in the worst part of town, and in every single picture he’d ever seen of that rich bastard he was wearing a suit or sipping champagne worth more than everything they’d ever owned.
But if he wasn’t Bruce Wayne’s kid, then what the hell was he doing sitting outside the man’s office in Wayne Towers?
Red Robin and the Hood - momoejaku
Note: Haven’t read this in a while, but it made an impression. Though it’s a fic set during the Red Robin arc, it very much is about both Tim and Jason. Plus, it fleshes out the Pru and Z a bit more, too.
Summary: Bruce Wayne is dead. Superman brought back his body, and the family mourned him, holding a quiet funeral in secret so that the legacy of Batman could live on. But not everyone has been able to put him to rest.
Reeling from the loss of Bruce, his identity as Robin and his trust in his family, Tim Drake sets out on a personal quest that will take him across the world to prove what he knows in his heart: that Bruce Wayne is alive.
Though intending to make his way alone, Tim reluctantly accepts help from his predecessor, Jason Todd, who knows from personal experience that death is not always as final as it seems.
Together, they are Red Robin and the Hood.
Liminal Spaces - Calamityjim
Note: Skimmed this only since I’ve been busy, BUT it does look well-written, and I’m always a sucker for alternate dimension/dimension travel intervention-type of fix-its. It’s a very specific trope.
Summary:
Bruce's habit of collecting strays is not limited by dimension.
Or
When Young Justice Batman comes across an angsty, seemingly abandoned by his Batman Tim Drake, he decides to step up to the plate and parent the crap out of him.
Little Bird’s Vengeance - KatHarkness-Katara
Note: Crossover with Avengers. Awesome fic with Tim and Jason and some Outsider POV (via the Avengers) of these dimensional stragglers. I think Tim’s team shows up in the later chapters, too. If you’re reading on mobile, it’s still very much worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version.
Summary: Why is life never simple? Red Robin's ended up worlds away from home once again, and now what's he to do? What do the Avengers want from him; do SHIELD have another agenda; and is there any way back? Pre-New 52. No slash. Rated for inevitable language/violent themes.
A Displaced Red Robin - dragonprincess1988
Note: Worth reading despite FF.net’s horrible format and abundance of advertisements in the mobile version. Well-written fic! EMOTIONS! I love them. Younger Dick Grayson is adorable, Tim is a competent fixer-upper for other people but not so much himself. He’s kind of angsty and making YJ Dick want to keep him (and YJ Bruce, too, if you read between the lines). On the plus side, seems like he’s making good friends with Young Justice Roy. This fic was written before certain episodes of YJ came out, though, and the fic reflects/will continue to reflect that. Still, I give it five stars.
Author’s Summary: Tim gets transported to the cartoon Young Justice world, and he's not sure he knows how to deal with it. Attention: If you want to know about Artemis or people from Tim's world the final note on my profile is for you. Also, a special thank you to angel-gidget over at Tumblr, who made the wonderful cover art for this story.
The Till-then From the Ever Since - Keiron O_Duibhir
Note: Fandom classic. Definitely a must-read for Batfam fans, in my humble opinion.
Summary: It began, or seemed to begin, with Jason.
Usually that would have meant something in the order of fire and explosion and probably at least one gunshot wound, but for once (as Tim said, sourly), it wasn't actually Jason's fault.
The Wayne Family Ghost - pupeez4eva
Note: Please read this. Especially if you’re sad or anxious or just have time. I couldn’t stop laughing. It’s my go-to cheer-up fic. Absolutely hysterical.
Summary: In which Bruce realizes that having a legally dead son, who regularly hangs around the family, might be slightly problematic. 
Bloodline - chibi_nightowl
Note: Complicated family dynamics, this time centering around Tim, Selina, Bruce and, surprisingly, Damian. Jason and Dick make an appearance as supportive big bros, too. It works. Take a read, it isn’t that long.
Summary:
“Mr. Drake, I can’t think of a better way to say this, so I’ll just be blunt. This file is for your first adoption. By the Drakes.”
Tim blinked. “My what?”
“You were adopted as a newborn by Jack and Janet Drake.”
“Excuse me, but what the fuck are you talking about?”
Talon!Tim AU Series by keeptogethernow
Note: Found family, from a different angle. Cool fic and well-written.
Summary of Tso’ape Mumbichi, first in the series: Ten years ago, two people made a deal with the devil--unlimited funds in exchange for their child. And now it's time to pay up. But there's no way to ensure that the child will cooperate.
Shutterbug Series by goldkirk
Note: Exactly what it says on the tin! Found family.
Summary:
Tim Drake is thirteen, runs the famous BatWatch blog that has spiraled hilariously out of control, has absentee parents that suit his purposes just fine, is training himself to run the streets at night, and is doing absolutely peachy, thank you.
Alfred and Jason disagree, and get Dick and Bruce involved in figuring out their weird next door neighbor kid’s life. Everything goes uphill from there.
Thursday’s Child - anthalogia
Note: Well-written and has found family and Tiny!Tim? Automatic win.
Summary:
He’s not the first child with nowhere else to go that Bruce Wayne has taken in. Dick Grayson was the first and the most high-profile – because no one would have thought Bruce Wayne was interested in ever raising a child, let alone the orphaned son of circus performers – but Jason was maybe just as much of a shock to society for being a street kid who came out of seemingly nowhere. Tim Drake is ordinary by comparison – his parents died in a plane accident. He can’t think of anything very special about him except that he met Bruce a few times when his parents hosted parties to keep in touch with Gotham society.
Or, tiny Tim Drake is adopted by the Waynes a little earlier than scheduled.
We’re Not Driving (How did we get here?) - TimTheToaster
Note: Short and sweet, a little angsty, and then very sweet.
Summary:
Tim stared at his phone, as if that would change what was on the screen.
Dick Grayson @FlyingDGrayson
It took some doing, and in some cases a little blackmail, but we've finally got the whole family together for a movie night! #WayneManor #movienight #familytime #schedulingisanightmare
15 minutes ago
Take It Back Now Y’all - TimTheToaster
Note: And Tiny!Jason has made his appearance. Also, Tim, I am begging you to please take care of yourself—ah, Bruce has made his appearance. Interesting. Also, I gotta say this author is good.
Summary:
There was absolutely no way this sunshine was from Gotham in April.
Not possible.
Which meant, Tim was no longer in Gotham, in April.
(In which Tim finds himself in the past, and tries to do the right thing. It's more complicated than he'd like.)
Takes a Little Time, Takes a Lotta Twine (To Get Us Back Together) - TimTheToaster
Note: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, beginning of reconciliation, and brotherhood. A satisfying, cathartic moment during the Red Robin arc to soothe your heart.
Summary:
Tim was in Gotham.
Tim had pretty specifically been avoiding thinking about Dick as much as possible for the last few weeks.
For the last year, really. No need to open that can of carnivorous worms.
Dick had other plans.
Everybody’s Heard (Bird is the Word) - TimTheToaster
Red Robin Era ANGST, but like, deliciously well-written. Also, protective Dad Bruce is always epic. Light bashing of Green Arrow and BC, though. But considering the situation (in this fic), kind of warranted.
Summary:
5 times Batman heard other heroes talking about his wayward brother,
And 1 time they were talking about his son.
A Choice to Make - scorbusfics
Note: fresh and interesting premise! Cool world building, too.
Summary: They have to choose. Dick and Bruce have to choose one person each to save, and one to disappear through the door.
“Send one of us,” Dick says fiercely, not for the first time. His face is dark and angry and desperate, eyes flicking from brother to brother. “Send one of us instead. I won’t choose.”
“Neither will I,” Bruce says.
But Tim knows.
Secret Places - RenaRoo
It’s ANGST, but the author knows how to use it well. Also, Jason’s line at the end killed me. Damn.
Summary: Tim Drake goes missing. The search to find him begins.
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bigskydreaming · 4 years
Text
I’ve often thought that a common sentiment in the public that people carefully avoid mentioning around Bruce - but not around Dick - is that Dick was adopted as a ‘consolation prize’ after Jason’s death. Ugly thought, true, but from the perspective of a public who loves gossipping about the Waynes and who have made their opinions of Dick all too clear in both canon and fanfic.....like, from their perspective, how must it look that Bruce raised Dick from the age of eight without ever making him anything other than his ward....and then they had that big fight apparently, that led to Dick moving out and basically being persona non grata around Gotham and never seen coming home.....whereas Jason was adopted by Bruce within months and was constantly seen being called son by Bruce, etc.
And then again as far as the public knows, Dick Grayson only ‘comes back’ after Jason’s death and he and Bruce seem to slowly be working on rebuilding their relationship....and a couple years after Jason died, and several years after Dick’s wardship expired on his eighteenth birthday without any mention from Bruce Wayne as to his now ex-ward’s status or even where he was or what he was doing with his life....no indication that Bruce was ever seen celebrating Dick’s eighteenth birthday or expressing any sentiment on what was effectively the severing of their legal ties at that point, and the end of Bruce’s obligations to Dick, no sign of him in Dick’s life or vice versa in years to follow, Dick rarely if ever seen keeping company with his somewhat little brother Jason....
Its only years after all of this that Bruce finally adopts Dick.....or like, people guess that’s what happens? Its not clear, exactly, because one day Dick’s got no legal ties to Bruce and hasn’t for years, and the next he’s been adopted. There’s no real scoop, nobody that got the exclusive about the event, because as far as anyone can tell....there was no event. There’s no story. Just he wasn’t adopted and now he was, and....neither Dick Grayson nor Bruce Wayne seem to have a comment on this, when it happened, WHY it happened, why NOW? After all this time? Why not earlier? Its just...there. Bruce Wayne, who famously throws parties for anything, pretty much, makes no official announcement about his son’s new status, there’s no party or celebration to honor it or mark the occasion, mark the adoption as noteworthy whatsoever.....
Because after all, it was just Dick and Bruce in the Batcave, Bruce handing him the adoption papers to sign and saying this is long overdue and doesn’t change anything and he’s always felt this way anyway.....
And to a guy who has not so secretly wanted this for YEARS, who has had Bruce literally throw his own knowledge of that not so secret yearning of his YEARS ago and thus who KNOWS full and well that its absolutely BULLSHIT to claim that ‘he’s always felt this way and knows Dick always knew that and didnt need a piece of paper so its not like this changes anything’.....like this had to be anticlimactic as HELL, but what do you say to that? How do you tell the dad who has caused you no small amount of angst and hurt and uncertainty as to where you even stand in his life that no, he didn’t take it for granted that Bruce felt this way, like, say, when Dick’s eighteenth birthday came and went with no sign of Bruce, no attempt from Bruce whatsoever to express in any way that he still wanted Dick in his life, still wanted to BE in Dick’s life, even without them legally bound to each other any longer.......how do you give your dad any of the well-earned shit he DESERVES for taking his precious time on this due to his own rejection and inadequacy issues in the moment he is at least FINALLY offering the thing you’ve wanted for so long and saying at least some of the things you’ve spent so long wanting to hear.....like...you can’t? Not then at least?
Whatever the intentions of the writers, the sheer anticlimacticness surrounding Dick’s actual adoption kinda....backed him into a corner where he couldn’t really express any emotion other than gratitude or happiness over the adoption without coming off as a total ungrateful asshole.....even though you kinda gotta wonder.....what did he tell his best friends about it? How did he relay the story to Roy, to Donna, etc.....the people who actually KNOW what this meant to Dick and how badly he wanted it, and would want him to dish on every single moment of what happened, they wanted to savor it.....and thus who would of course know the second he hesitated that something was wrong, Bruce had done something to fuck up even Dick’s biggest wish, if Dick was obviously trying not to say anything bad or negative or hint that it wasn’t like.....how he’d envisioned it or what all he’d been hoping for....but also not wanting to tell them the truth without embellishment, because you KNOW Donna and Roy and Wally and Garth would just be sitting there like:
“Wait. Hold up. You’re telling me you and Bruce had just got done with a case, you were getting ready to go home, you’re both STILL IN COSTUME, and in the BATCAVE, freaking ALFRED isn’t even present, and Bruce just.....kinda hands you the papers and pen and says here, I know I should have done this years ago but I really mean it, be my kid please? THAT’S IT????”
Yeah. I do NOT see that retelling ever having played well with the Titans, which makes me suspect Dick kinda...delayed in telling them until he could sneak it in and mention it as something that had happened awhile back and he’d just been too busy with hero stuff to make a big deal about it at the time and now it felt weird like it’d been too long. Because imo he wouldn’t have WANTED the Titans to weigh in on how they REALLY felt about how Bruce went about it, because he was likely trying to hold on to all the POSITIVE emotions it’d kindled for him and not like......focus so much on the Bruce-ness of it all making the approach something of a letdown after all the time he’d spent waiting and wanting.
And like.....when you’ve gone about adopting the kid you have a monumental track record of fucking up on telling how you really feel about him....in such a way that he probably felt awkward directly relaying to his best friends in a ‘omg this is huge news, tell us everything’ kinda story....
YOU’VE FUCKED IT UP.
But anyway, point is, Dick’s actual adoption came and went with such a HUGE lack of fanfare in any and every community, superhero and public, and probably didn’t even become KNOWN until someone went to write something about them and got fact-checked like “according to public records, Richard Grayson IS actually the legally adopted son and heir of Bruce Wayne as of this date etc etc”.....and when THAT news hit the public, how else were they going to view things?
Like, a gossip hungry readership not known to view Dick Grayson favorably were never going to think “oh its probably due to personal feelings about his parents and not wanting to replace them, I bet he was the one who never wanted to be adopted before now, that makes sense.”
LOLOL. Like. No. That’s not how the DC public sees it, I bet you anything.
Nah, in my head its FAR more likely that they looked at all of that and did THIS math instead:
Bruce Wayne takes in a young circus boy out of the goodness of his heart, raises him from the age of eight, but never makes him anything other than his ward. Good thing too, probably, given they have some sort of falling out when the Grayson boy is older, and the kid leaves town and good riddance, we hear he’s up in New York partying it up with models and has some alien superhero girlfriend, but nobody’s heard so much as his name mentioned around Wayne in ages so he’s not exactly Gotham news anymore. But no matter, Brucie’s gone and done it again, taken in another young orphan but this time its a local boy he adopted as his son right from the word go! Now that’s a story!
PLUS
Bruce Wayne’s adopted son Jason tragically dies all too young. In the wake of his loss, it appears Brucie’s making an attempt to mend fences with his former ward, or more likely, he’s gone running back to cozy up to Daddy Warbucks in an attempt to milk some more money out of that softie’s heart with a well-rehearsed conciliatory gesture.
PLUS
A couple years later, people start finding out that Bruce Wayne apparently did actually legally adopt Dick now, after all this time, though neither has so much as mentioned it publicly until now, for some reason.
EQUALS
My guess for how the public views it:
Bruce Wayne took in Dick and raised him as his ward but never really felt THAT way about the kid, not like Jason Todd-Wayne who he took one look at and knew ‘this is my kid’....but after losing Jason tragically, and with his family-owned company and board of directors being after him for some time about the importance of an heir in the optics of the dynastic corporate sphere.....Brucie probably decided to try and make the most of the one remaining sorta son he had left, and make a go of reconnecting with the former ward who was CLEARLY never his first choice to adopt as his proper son and heir before, but now apparently is good enough.
*Shrugs* That’s my honest bet for something Dick’s probably heard about his adoption more than a few times: that he was adopted as a consolation prize after Bruce’s ‘real son’ Jason died and Bruce felt driven to try and surround himself with whatever semblance of family he had left.
I mean, what else are you gonna get when you offer the public a paparazzi-enabling, glamorous sneak peek of your life at all other times, and absolute nada for the occasion of finally adopting the kid you’ve raised since age eight with absolutely NOTHING to show for it, not even a family friend who can be quoted as having been there to bear witness?
tl;dr - After all the damn parties and galas Bruce trotted Dick out to whether he wanted to or not, because that sorta thing is just what came with being a Wayne (the Wayne Dick wasn’t), the :LEAST Bruce owed Dick after years of estrangement and doubts directly inspired by him and his unwillingness to even OFFER Dick the option of adoption if he wanted it.....was to invite him to a party celebrating Dick himself and showing the world once and for all that he very much did want Dick in his life and as a part of his family, nothing less.
Dick’s never hated PARTIES, Bruce you giant dumbass. Dick hated going to parties where people talked about how he didn’t belong or how he was nothing but a PR charity stunt for Bruce.
Dick, in point of fact, might have very very MUCH enjoyed an actual public celebration where for the first time in his life, NO ONE could claim he didn’t belong or try and insinuate he was nothing but a charity case to Bruce. An event where the only point was to show tangible proof to all the naysayers: Bruce Wayne is Dick Grayson’s father and Dick is his son, and not a damn thing less.
THAT gala, Dick might have been more than happy to attend.
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mwolf0epsilon · 4 years
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Sammy Joey and Norman explores a haunted location and things get crazy?
Summary: They say children can sense the supernatural almost as effectively as animals can. In Norman's case he's not a child, far from it, but he can recognize the familiar unsettling feeling of malicious intent hanging in the stale air of the theater... The same kind that clung to his childhood home since he could remember.
Some thoughts I had about the world of BatIM. Short but sweet is the way to go sometimes.
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[[MORE]]
     It took a couple of months for Joey to get bold with his business investments after Henry left. A full set of months of both the music director and projectionist fretting over a lot of the workload, since the new hires were often left without much direction whenever Drew holed himself somewhere to plot. Then one day the tiny studio was bustling with activity, art department in full swing working on comics and cartoons, and that devil of a man was talking about expansion.
Norman had immediately seen that what could follow such plans could only be a disaster waiting to happen, while Sammy and Wally were more concerned with the time they'd be spending cleaning after their boss's overly ambitious plans.
The studio was a fairly small building adjacent to an abandoned theater that had once been a popular spot. When shit hit the proverbial fan, however, and the economy collapsed... Well, a lot of businesses took a terrible hit.
The once proud theater had been reduced to an empty husk in need of both renovations and an owner that knew what to do with it. And Mr. Joey Drew thought himself that sort of gentleman. Far from it, Norman knew, but who was he but the projector repairman? A nimble set of hands and occasionally a heavy labourer?
"Think of all the space." Joey insisted. "The studio will need a lot more people to reach success, and surely we'd need space for them to work in."
"Can't argue with that, but I'm just one guy..." Wally had interjected. "How am I supposed to clean two whole buildings in a day?"
"You'll manage, and you'll get paid double for it."
"What about me? Am I going to be thrown into some office to write and record an entire studio's worth of silly songs?" Sammy asked.
"You'll have your own department, with a band at your beck and call, and a lyricist to spiffy up your tunes with some pretty words to play on the radio."
"And myself? What could yous go an' offer me t'butter up such a deal?" Norman knew he'd already lost this executive decision, but he liked to see how far he could extend Joey's generosity.
"A whole closet, full of projectors, spare bulbs and tools, rather than one burnt rag to work with. Some thick gloves in your size, to ensure you don't end up with fried fingers as often."
In the end, none could really argue with Drew, and neither of the three could help but fall into the temptation of such improvements to their working conditions.
So really, when Norman was invited to look at the theater with Joey and Sammy, he knew immediately that their hubris would bring them nothing but just desserts. Because something was definitely off about the damn thing.
They say children can sense the supernatural almost as effectively as animals can. In Norman's case he's not a child, far from it, but he can recognize the familiar unsettling feeling of malicious intent hanging in the stale air of the theater... The same kind that clung to his childhood home since he could remember.
His Nanna told him once, long ago, that Poppop hadn't moved on after he'd been put down. He'd remained, sitting in front of his beloved piano just... Watching. What exactly, she did not know. The piano? The household? The wife who'd relented to his merciful request?
Nanna had taken to appeasing him gently, loving a presence that felt suffocating and cruel to Norman, but that wished her no ill will. The same could not be said for the rest of the family.
Many nights the children awoke to an apparition of a large man with empty eyes trying to choke the air out of them. Many nights he crawled into his patents' bed, wailing and aching, with a bruised neck and terror in his heart.
In the morning Nanna would be seated at the piano, face hidden in her hands, begging quietly for her husband not to kill the little ones. Norman never understood how she could keep hurting herself by appealing to the inexistent good nature of something so blatantly apathetic.
The theater might not feel as cold and calculative as what he'd come to know as Poppop's hateful glare, but the projectionist could feel several disembodied eyes on them as soon as they entered. The sadness and desperation of their gaze freezing the blood in his veins.
He'd glanced at Sammy, observing the smaller man break into a cold sweat and going so far to cross himself and utter silent prayer when he thought no one was watching. The drop in temperature must have been noticeable if he could sense something off just as acutely as Norman himself.
Joey, however, did not seem to notice. If anything, he took in the decrepit sights and his face lit up with a smile.
"It's perfect."
They were doomed from the very start.
-
The Projectionist's nightmares were bothersome whenever it fell asleep. Often nothing more than visions of needless violence and fear that distressed it to the point it avoided nodding off as often as possible.
But, sometimes, there were stranger ones that it couldn't quite understand. Dreams where a tall man with a pickaxe lodged in his left eye stared at it with a certain interest.
There was an older lady too, one that looked at it with pity, and that told it to wake up and move, before the myriad of spirits took it to the pits of hell to suffer some more.
The Projectionist would wake up, urged to move, and just barely escape the grasping hands of the Ink that were trying to pull it down into the well of screaming voices.
The two people in its dreams would fade into the back of its mind, but certain sensations would bring them back.
Terror and rage evoking the figure of the man with one hateful eye, the one that looked to want to be anywhere but there. Peace and comfort reminding it of the woman with the concerned sad eyes and loving voice, the one that would sometimes put a hand to the face of the projector without so much as a hint of fear.
In a haunted studio, it was only fair that ghosts fought other ghosts to ensure the soul of a fragmented family member had the chance to one day pass on... Not that a beast like the Projectionist had the capacity to understand this.
If anything, it was more clueless to the paranormal than the Prophet that still crossed himself instinctively whenever the pipes cried too loudly. It simply liked the dreams that didn't make it want to cry, the ones with the nice lady that made it feel like a child cradled safely against a warm bussom during a stormy night.
Outside of this cyclical hell, their tormentor remained oblivious to what he'd wrought upon others long before he'd thrown them into the machine. Not once associating the disastrous rebellion of his own alchemical concoction with the influences of the other side. For all that Joey Drew believes in higher powers, he did not believe in ghosts...
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