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morpheus-the-sandman · 8 months

Text

The blog is open now!! :D

Info I might. Change some stuff here and there just so you know!

TW staring in the drawings at the bottom ⏬

Hello im finstel or you can call me fin or finley

My carrd

Other

More about me down⬇️ in this blog pls read everything thanks!

im not good at writing and my grammar isn't that great so forgive me for typos :'D I also didn't used Tumblr as much so I'm still learning things

Important none of the stories are Canon to clowns og project!!

the main aus that are mentioned here are the

Sandman au/ Morpheus or morph that's how most call him he's a bat demon he's there to give the children good dreams and comfort them protect them he lives in his smol dimension in the middle his tree where he lives in with Noah, his brother fushigi, ivy, and hoshiko / personality : he's sweet, caring, comforting his presence his inviting like a soft bed like you're getting tired and all yk but he can also be chaotic he loves to be crazy with his friends and do random funny stuff he's also very adventurous he loves to take a look around at places he wanders around alot of aus when he has time to he's interested in other aus that aren't dangerous or anything he loves to hang out and all so you might find him sitting near where you living at watching the stars!

Monsterbed au / crow is there to protect the children he will be under the bed or in the closet well most likely under the bed he doesn't like the closet very much / he can only speak in chirps outside his au when he's back in his he will speak normally / his au is a dreamcore au / personality : is still in work I didn't quite explored his personality yet but I would say for now that he's sweet and protective of his loved ones

SH wally ( I call him that now idk I feel like it's better then father wally) actually idk if I keep that name if you might have better names let me know I suck at them XD / anyway he's there to take in children in need let's say morph finds a child that has abuse going one or something else like it lost its parents ect morph will ask that child if it wants to come with him he doesn't force them but he if a child declines he will still look to take action and get them to a better place then in the human realm if a child says yes morph will take them to sh wallys realm and leave them there for sh wally to take care of them once they grew up they can decide if they want to leave back to the human realm or stay with wally/personality : not developed yet but he's very calm and patient that's all I can say!

Ugly duckling wally aka Noah he's morphs adoptive son/ personality : sweet, playfully, joyfully,

Hoshiko/wish wally he's also morphs adoptive son / he travels trough different aus grading wishes depending if a person deserves the wish he can see it in thair hearts if a person deserves it or not / he floats mostly in the air but obv he can also swim in water /personality : still in development but I would say he's quiet energetic, has lots of energy, he does like to mess around with someone, he's playfully and teasing,

Fushigi and ivy not alot to say here fushigi is there to defeat bad dreams ect like morph is he's morphs real brother / ivy is his best friend even tho ivy doesn't want to admit to that , fushigi found ivy while defeating bad dreams ivy was different from the other nightmares he seemed alone and seemed like he actually didn't liked to be feared and all so fushigi took him in / fushigi likes to Crochet stuff / personality of fushigi : still in development but he's sweet calm patient, ivy's personality : also still in development all I know is he's grumpy, teasing, likes to mess with people,

Comfort star / she's there traveling around aus to comfort everyone when they need it at any time when they try to sleep or whatever it might be / she has problems with feeling things she can't feel things so she might sound or act numb at times but she trys her best her sister is always there to help her with it her problem with not feeling alot is also why she often comes back with cuts ect bc she feels numb both emotionally and physically she does not feel pain so she would often be rather at morph or wherever to get stitched back up / personality : still in development but she's playfull, sweet

Letters from felix/Yeah I added another AU I have for a while idk why I didn't added him when I first did this blog but he travels trough dimensions too so I trough why not he's silly and is adventurin trough dimension and he writes letters to his human he's inspired my letters from Felix the series the bunny Basacally my childhood :3] personality : chaotic, he loves to mess around, playfully, adventures

Shooting star

She's like a help for traveling inspired by the cat bus from totoro uwu she acts pretty much like a cat and can't talk she be meowing and purring but she understand you!

And also morph father the uhh good home in this story I didn't drew him yet but he's basacally just like og home but a smol house that follows morph around

!! Boundaries!!

Yes you can

✅ make fanart absolutely tag me please!!!

✅ Shipping? Yes ofc but please only ocs sonas or yns.

✅ Im also okay with interactions trough I can't promise I will do all of them I mostly do what I feel like and if I don't feel like it I don't do it it also might take a bit

Donts❌

Please no applecest no wallycest no proships!!!❌

No nsfw with these aus mentioned here!!!❌

Don't do Ai bots of my aus I'm doing alredy bots but it takes a bit I get really exausted after a bit of working on bots like I get sleepy and all it takes a bit I know I'm working on them for quite a while now but still have patients I'm also not an expert when it comes to bots I'm still learning!! ❌❌❌

Don't message me privately if I don't know you please if I know you for a bit from my comment section you can ask me if you can message me and I might say yes , please have patients with me I don't feel comfortable calling you my friend so soon so I just call you a mutual if I know you for a longer while I might call you a friend! I had a really bad experience with an ex friend of mine I knew since my childhood and that left marks , I might get easily overwhelmed or exausted so I might dip or don't talk at all please don't feel like I'm ignoring you or anything I'm not I'm simply not feeling like talking or it is to much at that day for me!❌❌❌

🌟Things about me that are important 🌟

my pronounce are she/her, he him, im genderfluid and aroace, bisexual, ❤️

I have auditory processing disorder or called

(APD )

Wich makes me slower I might forget alot of things or I also have hearing problems sometimes like when somone calls me it doesn't end up in my brain I'm also very sensitive so sounds loud notices specifically

I also take a while to understand things so be patient with me

(HSP ) I am a highly sensitive person

I also have social anxiety

I'm really sensitive like I would say emotionally there are often times where I do take things too serious or something please tell me talk to me about those things if I understand stuff the wrong way

I'm 22 years old and German

I only speak English and German I can't speak other languages

I have 29 aus by now I might add more depending on what ideas I get ( idk for sure I know I have alredy alot and I didn't even developed alot of them enough I do want to put an line to it but I can't I love creating I love making it makes me happy so just be aware XD when I decide to do a blog for my other aus that I might not post alot about those depending on how I'm feeling ( maybe I post more when I get asks idk)

Fandom I'm in atm

Welcome home

And poppy playtime

I hope you have a wonderful time here!! :3

🌟Refs of my sillys🌟

#art #artists on tumblr #artwork #digital art #welcome home #welcome home au #welcome home artist #welcome home arg #morphthesandman #askmorph #wh multiverse

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goldandbluesmiles · 4 years

Text

Heading Towards Something Good

Summary: Damian, Father, Family and Affection

Notes: Based on this prompt by @just-an-aussie-otaku Hope I did it justice.

Ao3

XXX

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was...unnamable at best.

The League had not been big on displays of affection, praise had been sparse and the only positive touch had been after a job well done. Jobs that had let Damian empty and hollowed out. His mother had tried, but in keeping the balance between keeping her father happy and keeping her son safe, his mother had let normal child-rearing slide.

It was probably why she had sent him to Gotham.

When he had first come to the manor, he had been distant from his family. Then his father had died and the emotions that he had tried to keep a lid on had exploded around him.

And there had been Grayson.

Grayson, who had sat up with him at night, even when he had acted terribly to the older man.

Grayson, who had given him hugs and ruffled his hair even when he had threatened to stab him.

Grayson, who had ostracized one of his brothers for him. Damian himself might not like Drake but he knew how much he meant to Grayson and how much it had hurt the man to drive him away to look after Damian.

Grayson had given him unconditional love even though Damian had made it extremely hard for him.

And now Grayson wasn't there anymore.

He wasn't gone per se. Bludhaven was only half an hour away after all, and Damian could not begrudge him his own life. Damian was also quite glad to get to know his father alone.

However, Grayson's absence was felt. Especially on nights when Damian felt like peeling his skin off.

Grayson had always had an infinity for knowing when Damian needed him. And while Father was there now, he had no such instinct. They simply did not know each other enough.

The only way for Damian to get anything out of him would be to ask.

And really, he'd rather just take comfort from the dark.

xxx

Damian might not have had much training as a Bat but he had more than enough as an Assassin. He thinks that maybe his family had forgotten that sometimes, especially during the time his father was lost in the time stream.

Damian had started to silently creep around the house at night and none of the present occupants of the house had ever caught him. It had allowed him to hear conversations and exchanges he wouldn't have usually been privy to.

One of the first ones he had heard had taken place three weeks after Father's disappearance.

"I don't know what to do Wally, it's just so hard. I don't know how Bruce used to do take care of little me- Yeah okay, I guess he wasn't grieving at the time but still-"

If Richard and Alfred ever figured out that he overheard their conversation they had never shown. Hearing them had given him a new perspective on the first Robin, it had allowed him to appreciate what the older man was doing for him and had brought them closer.

It was this closeness that had allowed him to learn more about the kind of man his father was. Richard had told him stories of how in the beginning he had practically forced tactile affection on the repressed man. By the time Jason had come along, Father had been so well conditioned by his eldest that he had reached out on his own. Both he and his young ward had been at an uneasy middle until Jason had finally succumbed to the comfort. Post-death Jason had a relationship that consisted of barbs and retorts underlined with the care that existed years ago. Drake had been different, he had had parents and Father had been grieving, but eventually, they had been headed to a sort to a resolution that had picked up now that Father was back. Cassandra and Father had their own language, consisting of silent looks and precise movements. Stephanie and Barbara were not his children but they both had history and respect with him.

Damian had no idea what he had with Father.

"He'll want something with you too," Richard had said a little while after the original Batman had shown back up.

Damian had not answered him but that statement was the reason that he found himself slinking down the hallway towards Father's room.

Tonight was not a good night. It was the kind of night that made him want to silently scream, made the glass shards inside of him scrape at his sides and made the insistent buzzing in his head loud enough to drown out his thoughts.

It was the kind of night that Richard would have held him to sleep.

But Richard was in Bludhaven. And Father was just in reach.

The door was open. A few more steps and Father would surely notice him.

For a second, just a second, Damian consider just turning back to his room and forcing himself to go to sleep. However, the idea of being alone in his room again made him want to be violently ill.

By God, Richard had spoiled him. He had never had this problem with the League.

Making up his mind, Damian went forward until he was standing on the doorway to Father's room. The man was sitting up in bed and seemed to be looking at some papers with WE logo on them. It took him almost a minute to look up from them but when he did, his eyes alight with curiosity.

"Damian?" he asked

Feeling a bit panicked he blurted out the first that came to mind.

"Father, I need affection,"

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Damian felt his whole body grow still and cold. This was not how he was supposed to say that! He looked pathetic! Father was going to think-

Except.

Except that Father merely raises his arm outwards, a clear invitation to sit with him. Refusing to overthink, Damian moved until he was in the circle of his father's arm. Once he was there, the older man bodily hauled him onto the bed. The reports were moved around until there was enough room for Damian to curl up in Father's lap, right against his chest.

"Oh, baby," said Father, once Damian was settled in his arms, "You only have to ask. I know I'm not good at noticing when you kids need something like this and I try to be better at it. But Damian if I don't notice, please ask if you need me,"

Damian nodded against the older man's chest and his father gently kissed his temple.

"Do you want me to turn off the light or is it okay for me to continue reading?"

"It's alright," murmured, already starting to get hazy. Father was warmer then Richard and while Richard's hugs had been tight and soothing, Father's was all-encompassing and safe.

Damian fell asleep as the glass inside carefully receded and his skin finally felt right again.

xxx

After that small incident, Damian became much more comfortable asking his Father for what he needed.

He even used the same line he did the first night. It never failed to make Father's lips twitch up in a smile.

Usually, they were alone when Damian asked. Just before school in the morning, the study or the lounge in the evenings, their rare lunches together, sometimes in the Batcave after patrol.

But they were always alone. Then came the day when Richard was over. School had been long and tedious. Homework had taken more energy than he had anticipated. All he wanted was to curl up with Father and just spend the evening in his company, however, it happened.

He first checked the study. Father was not there. The next place to look was in the lounge. Damian did find Father there, lying horizontally on the couch, book in his hand. However, he was not alone. Richard was there too, working on his laptop. He hadn't called Damian before coming over which meant the decision was last minute.

Damian contemplated just going to Richard and sitting with him the way they used to. However, his older brother looked busy and Damian was surprised to find that he wanted to sit with Father. Not just because he was the only option, but because it was honestly soothing.

Mind made up, Damian walked over to Father and stood by him with his arms crossed.

"Father, I need affection,"

In response, the older man raised his arm without taking his eyes off the book he was reading. Damian ducked under it and ended up laying on top of his father, head pillowed on his chest.

Damian knew Richard was watching them but with the way his muscles were uncoiling, he couldn't bring himself to care.

Dick, for his part, hid his shock pretty well. On the inside, he was squealing in delight but he kept his composure, occasionally sneaking glances at Bruce and Damian. Bruce kept reading his book and Damian seemed to be texting someone. After every few minutes, Bruce gently stroked a hand through Damian's hair and give his temple a kiss.

So Adorable.

Dick discreetly took a picture. Damian obviously didn't notice and if Bruce did, he didn't say anything.

The picture was later sent to everyone he knew.

And if Damian internally smiled at the copy he was shown by Selina...well no one needed to know.

xxx

Tim and Bruce were sitting in the cave working on their perspective reports when Damian walked to them. Tim side-eyes him, surprised to see the boy in his civilian clothing. Most of them tried to keep both lives separate and Damian especially never stayed in the cave in his civies.

He was even more surprised when Damian climbed into Bruce's lap. There were no words spoken, no indication. He just climbed up there and started reading the case file along with Bruce.

And Bruce. Just did nothing. He just let him sit there.

Had Tim missed something? When had these two gotten so comfortable? He'd seen the picture but this-? And since when did Bruce let people that close to him?

Tim himself was rarely on the receiving end of the closeness.

As soon as Tim had that thought, he regretted it. He knew from stories that Bruce had been a different man before Jason's death. His relationship with Cass was good. Tim had been unfortunate with his timing. At first, they were just professionally linked and by the time he had been adopted, they had had a habit neither one had taken the time to break.

Tim couldn't begrudge the man trying to have a better relationship with the child he never knew he had. He just wished watching it didn't make him feel a little hollow inside.

Still, as the even went on Tim couldn't help but feel a little happy about it too. He loved his family and both of them deserved this.

And anyway it wasn't as if his relationship with Bruce was lacking any love. He was especially reminded of this later on patrol when Batman bought Red Robin his favourite shake 'just because'

xxx

Jason was halfway out the door when he realized he didn't have his keys with him.

Damn it.

This is what happened when he came to the manor as Jason Todd and got comfortable. He started acting like a normal human being instead of the paranoid and cautious bat he was supposed to be.

It's good to keep them separate. You can be just Jason too, son.

And that was Bruce's voice in his head.

Jesus Christ. He really needed to get out of here and get drunk with Roy. Maybe Kori could be persuaded to come too.

He headed to the TV room and was treated to a lightly odd but admittedly adorable sight. Bruce was sitting on the couch with Damian in his lap, both of them fast asleep and snoring lightly with their mouths open. Cassandra was also there leaning into Bruce's side, looking sleepy but awake.

Jason let his lips twitch up at one side and grabbed a blanket from the armchair. He spread it over Bruce and his siblings. Bruce and Damian barely stirred but Cass smiled at him and mouthed 'Thank you'.

Jason gave her a salute, grabbed his keys from the table and headed out again, a little more bounce in his steps.

Later when Roy asked him why he was smiling like a moronic sap, he just grinned harder and pushed the other man to the ground.

It's what he deserved.

xxx

"Oh Hey, Bruce-"

Tim entered the living room and was greeted to the sight of Damian, once again, curled up in Bruce's lap. Stephanie was there too, sitting on a different couch and discreetly snapping pictures of the pair.

He had been hoping to get Bruce alone and while he wouldn't mind Stephanie, Damian still had some problem sharing his time with his dad.

"Tim did you need something?" asked Bruce

"Uh, well I was hoping to show you my report but we can do it later. I'll just-"

Before he could walk away, Bruce's voice stopped him.

"Why not now, Tim?"

He turned back to look at Bruce and saw that he was frowning in confusion. Tim didn't know how to tell him that his youngest was most likely to stab him at his intrusion. And the was Stephanie was stifling her laughter wasn't helping either.

Before he could come up with an excuse, however, Damian straightened up and jumped to his feet.

"Father is right, Drake," said Damian, "Putting off work is not a good look. You just reminded me I have a report on my own to finish,"

Tim raised his eyebrow at the boy. Even if Tim hadn't been trained by the Bat, he could have seen the lie from a mile away. Which meant-

He shared a disbelieving look with Stephanie. Had the Batbrat just read the room?

Wonders would never cease.

Tim sat down with Bruce and they carefully started to go over the reports from WE.

As he was sitting, Tim found himself leaning closer and closer to his dad. Finally, he just decided to take a leap of faith and put his head on Bruce's shoulder. Without any hesitation or lull in the conversation, the older man put his arm around Tim, pulling him close and giving his hair a kiss.

Huh. So it was that easy.

Stephanie raised her camera at them, looking at them in amusement.

Tim looked her dead in the eye and, very maturely, stuck his tongue out at her.

The deep sigh from Bruce did not deter either of them.

xxx

Bruce had noticed how comfortable his youngest had become around him and it never ceased to warm his heart.

They were at a gala, Him, Dick, Tim and Damian. It was late into the night but only halfway through the party and Bruce was chatting with a group of socialites. He was in the middle of pretending to find Mrs. Doser's vacation story interesting when he felt a tug at his side. He looked down to find his youngest standing by him and sleepily rubbing his eyes.

Damian didn't say anything but when he looked, Bruce read his face loud and clear even if that wasn't Damian's intention. Without any hesitation, he picked up the young boy and settled him against his shoulder. Damian squirmed a little but in the end, he relaxed under Bruce's gentle coaxing.

Damian was surprised at his Father's actions. At best he had hoped to have some of his Father's attention, at worst be berated or sent away. He had not expected this and could find no reason for it to be happening. But as the night went on and people merely cooed and awed at them, he figured this was just something people did with their children.

He got an image of his mother carrying him after a brutal training session but banished it from his mind. She had done her best and thinking about it wouldn't help.

During a separate incident, Batman was sitting in front of the Batcomputer having a meeting with the core members of the JL. He was in the middle of explaining the budget when Damian marched towards him wearing a mask and completely uncaring of the faces on the computer. As soon as he reached Bruce he jumped into his lap and closed his eyes. He must have been severely sleep-deprived because it only took his moments to fall asleep.

Bruce was torn. On one hand, his sweet, precious baby was sleeping in his lap. On the other hand, the founding members of the JL were still online and only Hal Jordan knew his identity.

In the end, the meeting continued with Batman glaring every time anyone tried to deviate from the subject.

If he smiled at the string of emojis and supportive texts Superman and Wonder Woman sent him on hs secure computer, it was his own secret.

xxx

Damian couldn't sleep and the most frustrating thing was that he couldn't pinpoint the reason. He hadn't gone on patrol and his day had been relatively uneventful.

He just couldn't find sleep.

Damian finally gave up and padded down to the den. He was surprised to find that Richard was there too.

"I guess we had the same idea, huh?" said Richard, sending him a soft smile

A closer look at the older man's face and Damian knew that Richard had a good reason to not be asleep. His eyes were puffy and face a little pale as if he had been crying.

"Couldn't sleep," mumbled Damian

"Same," said Richard waving his arm to invite him over.

Damian went over situated himself beside his older brother leaning slightly against his arm. They sat there in silence for a little while until Father came into the room.

He stopped in the doorway, almost as if he hadn't expected anyone to be down there.

"Boys," boys he murmured sounding tired but awake at the same time

"Hey B,"

"Father,"

"You know what we should do?" asked Father, taking in both their appearances.

Damian was confused by Richard seemed to perk up.

"Pillow fort!" he said

Father smiled, "Pillow fort,"

What followed was one of the most confusing half-an-hour of Damian's life. He hand never made a pillow fort before but he was good at taking directions and arranged blankets, pillows and support as required. When they were finished, they had quite a big tent with pillow walls, blanket roof, and cushions to keep them comfortable.

"Why is it so big?" he asked

As if on cue, Timothy, Stephanie and Cassandra stumbled into the room.

"See, I told you I heard voices," said Stephanie

"Yeah, yeah," said Timothy, "Are you guys making a fort?"

"Yup," said Dick, "Join us! The more the merrier,"

Damian expected himself to feel annoyance at being interrupted but found that he felt...content.

Now wasn't that a thought.

They had just started to arrange themselves when Jason walked in with Duke right behind him.

"Pillow forting without us," said Jason

"That's not a word," mumbled and Timothy, "And there's room,"

"What do you think, kid?" Jason asked Duke, "Should we grace them with our presence?"

Duke grinned, "I don't know about you but that looks comfy,"

"The Duke has spoken," Jason mock cried, "Make room brats,"

They moved around until Father in the middle. Dick and Tim on either side of him and Damian on his lap. Duke curled up across Tim and Father's legs while Jason took the spot opposite of him. Stephanie and Cassandra ended up curled together on the comfy couch behind Father.

"Good Night, everyone," said Father

There were a few mumbled answers as everyone started to nod off surrounded by the comfort of family.

Damian fell asleep with a smile on his face.

The relationship between Damian, his family, and affection was still unnamable. But he liked to think that it was heading toward something good.

#batfamily #batman #batdad #Damian Wayne #Damian al Ghul #bruce wayne #dick grayson #batfamily members

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bigskydreaming · 4 years

Text

Didio’s other claim for why he didn’t like Dick - a reason which many of us long suspected was at least partially behind it, not that that makes it any less dumb or illogical - was:

With [original Robin] Dick Grayson — and this is the same with Wally — people loved them because they aged with them, so they feel this affinity that these guys have grown up with them. The problem is that much like Batman and Superman, now Dick Grayson and Wally West have to stop aging, because they're going to pass their mentors. Dick Grayson's going to get older than Bruce Wayne at some point, because Bruce doesn't age and Dick Grayson's going to be the older guy if he does keep growing up. Therefore, those things constantly force the reboots that we're faced with, because it creates these log jams and these multiple interpretations of characters all sharing the same name.

Ultimately, in my mind, we kept on collapsing our timelines and created confusion about how long certain characters were in certain roles, and what they did in those roles.

*rubs temples and sighs in I can’t believe they gave this guy CREATIVE control of a company for two decades*

Hi, yes, Mr. Didio, sir? I’m not sure if you’re aware of this, but the ‘kids eventually grow up’ phenomenon is actually well-documented and verified by science, which further claims that - get this - it actually happens to ALL OF THEM!

Egads! I know, right?

But yes, tis true. That very same crisis was inevitably bound to age not JUST Dick Grayson and Wally West but....gasp....ALL CHILD HEROES.

Y’know. Like. Dick’s multiple younger siblings.

Who would each eventually present the same ‘issue’ even if he weren’t around.

Including Damian Wayne.

Who, y’know, wouldn’t even exist if you hadn’t greenlit his character concept.

The very same way you kept greenlighting the creation of children for other similarly iconic characters like Superman (err....Jon Kent?) even as you kept systematically killing off the entire third generation, aka every single one of the original Titans’ kids.

Because they ‘aged’ the first generation of heroes too much, as evidence of how the second generation of heroes had grown up.

But....apparently....not like.....the later and continued additions to that second generation of heroes was ever going to result in....apparently?

I’m just....

*adopts an ‘I was in a middle-school production of Oliver Twist once’ accent*

Please, sir, may I have some FUCKING LOGIC HERE MAYBE???

fahlkshfklahfalfalf

I just.

The cognitive dissonance. Its so real. And so loud. And so glaring.

The issue was never Dick Grayson or Wally West or any of the Titans or their kids.

It was that AGING IS A THING and it was ALWAYS going to present a problem that needed addressing, and pretending that you can reset the clock over and over and over and not eventually run out of give-a-fucks on your readers’ parts was never an actual solution.

Unlike....say....maybe letting reality factor into your equation just a smidgen, and perhaps investing some of that creative energy and effort into building UP the later generations of heroes so they could eventually replace the original generation of heroes not just in roles, but in POPULARITY and DEMAND and READERS’ INTERESTS.

Instead of just acting like the entire comic book industry could play at being fucking Neverland forever and nobody would ever have to grow up if Darkseid you could just perfect that damn Anti-life Reboot equation.

Ugggggggh.

"What are brain cells and why should we use them: a production by DC, twenty years in the making.”

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killervibe · 5 years

Note

Distracted 😉🤦🏼‍♀️

Here’s 3k of Killervibe, West-Allen and fluff

“Hey, what was it that you saw?” Iris asked him as soon as Cisco got to the Cortex.

He shifted his weight, adjusting his daughter so she could continue snoozing with her cheek pressed against his shoulder as he followed Iris to the monitors.

“It was chaos, like, cars piling up and then this giant thing,” Cisco rambled, trying to remember the bits and pieces. “It was green.”

“No location? Nobody you know?”

“No!” Cisco exclaimed. “Nada. I just know it happens tonight.”

Iris flips on a switch for the coms in Barry’s suit. “Bear, you got that?”

“Yeah. I’m going up the North side, Wally the South.”

“Ugh.”

Ralph swung in his seat lazily, removing his eye mask. “I guess we just wait then.”

Cisco walked out to grab his gear just in case they needed to be on the go. He had to sling his jacket over his shoulder, then bent down to get his shoes very carefully as to not jolt the sleeping beauty. He hooked his fingers into the curve of his sneakers then straightened himself back up, and went back to where the rest were.

“And then she told me she felt like I wasn’t reaching my best potential, you know? So I had to try—“

Cisco dumped his stuff on the table, then glanced at the screens again. “Really. Nothing?”

Iris and Ralph shook their heads.

“Cisco,” Iris said, gesturing a bit wildly, like she was desperate for his help. “You’d say Ralph is an excellent detective, right?” Iris sent him a rather pleading look.

Cisco turned to Ralph who was looking kinda glum. “Oh. Sure, I always liked you better than Sherloque. You knew that.”

Ralph made a deep sigh. “My In-Laws don’t agree.”

“Oh,” Cisco said again, rolling his eyes. “In-Laws. Lord. I know.”

“I don’t have any,” Iris said.

There was an awkward silence.

Cisco and Ralph shared a look.

Iris cleared her throat, and returned to watch Barry and Wally run around.

“Listen, you just gotta tell them what they wanna hear, ‘Yes, Dr. T I’ll consider investing in that company, and maybe next year I’ll get my eyes laser corrected, thanks’, and it gets you off their backs until the next time.”

“Actually that sounds pretty decent,” Ralph thanked, then got up to jot that down. He stretched his hand across the room for his pen and Ralph’s Book on Marriage.

“Where’s Caitlin?” Iris asked eventually after more tense silence. It was never fun waiting for danger, especially when they had no idea what they were in for. Team Flash loved their jobs, they did, and none of them saw permanently retiring anytime soon, but now that they were all settled down, with wives and husbands and children, they had to become exceedingly more careful.

“Pharmacy,” Cisco said, knowing his voice was one inflection away from dreamy. He had a particularly bad case of love drunk he hadn’t seem to have shaken since they found out Caitlin was pregnant again. “She needed to refill her prenatal vitamin prescription. She should be back soon.”

Iris looked up, catching his eye, softening at Cisco’s hand tracing soothing patterns along Amalia’s back. “You two are excited, huh?”

Cisco smiled into his daughter’s hair. “Thrilled.”

“You think baby two will be a breacher like Amalia?”

He settled into his chair and rolled his neck over the back of the leather, closing his eyes and let out a drawn out groan.

Cisco loved his daughter and that she had his powers like nothing else in the entire world, but it was exhausting to take care of a metachild who could more or less teleport. The amount of involuntary hide-and-seek and tag Cisco and Caitlin have to play with Amalia hopping into baby breaches around the house is insane. And he doubted it was stopping anytime soon.

Cisco wasn’t sure he could go through that all over again. “Honestly, I don’t even have the energy to think about it. We’ll worry about that when we get there. We need a vacation. We’re already swamped and Caitlin isn’t even in her second trimester.”

“We’d love to take Amalia if you two would like some time off alone,” Iris offered. Cisco tightened his hold on his little girl, feeling stupidly protective.

Amalia, Nora and Don got together like three peas in a pod, all roughly around the same age of three and a half, but Cisco didn’t want to exchange his daughter for a vacation.

“Thanks Iris, but I think we were thinking more like a family getaway.”

“Oooh,” Ralph goes. “Niagara Falls is a good one. They’ve got this crazy log cabin in Canada called Great Wolf Lodge with a giant arcade room and jumbotron animatic animals who talk and sing to children.”

Ralph pauses to look up from Ralph’s Book of Marriage when he was met with silence. He huffed. “I promise it’s not as creepy as it sounds.”

Cisco tapped against his black leather Vibe pants, thinking.

Iris pulled up an article one of her junior staffers wrote for the homestyle section of the Central City Citizen. “What about Disney World?”

Cisco perked up. “Disney?”

“—GUYS? Are you still there?”

Iris minimized the tab, rolling across the desk back to the monitors. “Just a minute, honey.”

She rolled back, clicking on the article.

“You don’t have to go to California or Florida. There’s also one in France. That seems pretty cool.”

Some cackling came on over the coms.

“Are you guys talking about Disney World?”

Ralph saved iris the trip and flicked on the speaker.

“Yeah. We’re talking vacays. Don’t you think Cisco and Caitlin should go?”

Some wind cut the mic, but then it went still, the woosh of Barry speeding around disappearing. He must’ve stopped.

“I don’t know,” Barry’s voice cut in, giving his two cents. “I think Amalia is too young and it’s kinda pathetic when you can’t go on the rides because of pregnancy. I’d wait a couple more years. Ugh, and the lines.“

Ralph nodded. “Good point.”

“We should all go when our kids are older!” Barry suggested, sounding excited. “Four years from now maybe, when this new baby is no longer too young. 2028?”

They all hummed in agreement, as if they could truly make such a ridiculous plan so far off in the future.

“Whoops. Sorry, gotta check something,” Barry’s line disconnected, but they were all too distracted to pay much attention.

Amalia started to stir.

Cisco checked on her as she grumbled, flexing her curled fingers into Cisco’s skin.

“Hi baby,” he whispered, sitting her upright on his lap. “Good sleep?”

Amalia frowned adorably, taking in her surroundings. She reached up for Cisco’s hair, taking a fistful and yanked.

“Hey now,” he said, jerking his head away and shooting Ralph a half-hearted glare for laughing at him. Cisco grimaced when she smacked her hand over his face.

“She’s being very grabby recently,” he tried to explain, but in all honestly it wasn’t necessary.

He diverted his attention back to her, gently prying her hands off his face.

“Hey mini me. You good?”

She nodded, sucking her thumb. Caitlin tended to give herself an aneurysm trying to stop Amalia’s bad habit, but Cisco didn’t really bother.

“Hey Miss Lia,” Iris cooed, coming over to say hello. She stroked her soft hand. “Is Auntie Iris getting a hi?”

Amalia turned her head, burying her face back into Cisco’s neck.

“Ouch,” said Ralph.

“She’s a grumpy sleepy.” Cisco shrugged. “Don’t take it personally.”

Iris crossed her hands over her chest, pursing her lips. “Mmhmm. I think it just means she needs more toys to remember who’s her favourite aunt.”

“Sue’s her favourite,” Ralph said with pride.

Iris glowered.

Cisco bit his tongue, not wanting to get in the middle of this.

He stood up again and walked around the Cortex, bouncing Amalia a little to wake her up. Amalia’s hair was all mussed, her bangs falling over her eyes, so he gently swept them away, zoning out from the conversation as he focused on being in Daddy mode until—

“I think Sue and I are going to adopt a pig.”

“A pig?”

Amalia immediately burst into giggles, making oinking sounds.

Cisco stared up at the ceiling.

“—Why?” Iris shrilled.

“Okay, first of all, Mrs. West-Allen, I do not appreciate that tone. It’s a thing. Pigs make great additions to a family. Pigs are the new babies.”

“Oink oink oink!”

“And,” Ralph continued stubbornly, “They are very intelligent. You should consider it, Cisco.”

Cisco looked at Amalia, who was very well versed in farm animal noises, which last month he was very proud of but today may get on his very last nerve.

“I’m fine with my baby, thank you.”

Amalia only intensified her pig snorts.

“Is this your idea, or Sue’s idea…?” Iris asked, leaning against the desk with a very amused if not slightly mystified expression on her face.

“Oh it’s my idea but I’m sure Sue would be game. She’s a free spirited woman. I’m sure she’d love a hog.”

“A hog?” Iris repeated faintly.

“A piggie!” Amalia shrieked, beside herself with excitement.

“Yes Amalia!!!” Ralph banged his fist on the table, pumped at his little cheerleader. Amalia only screamed louder, the two egging each other on. Ralph pointed at Cisco. “This kid is going places!”

“Oink! Oink! Oink!”

Cisco and Iris shared a long glance.

“…Uh huh.”

Cisco grimaced at a particularly loud Oink! and held his squirming child out an arm away, trying to set her down. “Okay, Amalia, sweetheart, you’re shrieking in Daddy’s ear.”

She struggled, very opposed to being put down, and climbed up his Vibe pants desperately, digging her nails in trying to latch on, whining when her little socks touched the floor.

Cisco sighed, scooping her back up, feeling a lot like a mother kangaroo. He needed a pouch or something.

“I want a piggie!! I want a piggie like Uncle Ralph!!!”

“You do, huh?”

“I want a piggie!!!!”

Cisco rubbed at his temples with his free hand. “Ralph doesn’t have a pig,” he reasoned.

“—Not yet.”

“I wanna piggie!”

Cisco yanked off Amalia’s right sock, and flung it on the ground in the direction of her little playmat with her abandoned Duplos, tickling her baby toes. “You already have piggies!”

She squealed, wiggling as he played with her, hoping it would divert Amalia’s attention away from demanding a pet that would give her mother a heart attack. Iris stifled her laughter behind her hand watching them two.

Amalia finally wanted to get down, so Cisco let her go and she went running for Ralph.

Ralph met her halfway to him, stretching his arms out to snatch her and pull her onto his lap to chant about pigs as Cisco and Iris slowly backed away—Cisco needing an aspirin—Iris, coffee.

“Hey,” Iris said, “Remind me that I need to leave in fifteen minutes to pick up the twins from my dad’s. Do you think you could breach me there?

“No problem. Think the emergency won’t pop up by then?”

“Probably not,” Iris admitted. “Hmm. Maybe I should call my dad and ask if he could keep Nora and Don overnight.”

They bumped into Caitlin, who had a plastic pharmacy bag twisting from her grip in one hand, and her phone in the other. She was staring down at the device with growing distress, quickening her pace, unaware that they were down the hall.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Cisco said, breaking into a jog to meet up with her. She stopped abruptly when Cisco cupped her face.

Expecting one of her soft glowing smiles, he was very surprised to see her frown deepen, shoving her phone in his face.

“Have you seen the news!?”

“…The news?”

“Barry was kidnapped! Chaos! Pandemonium! All tech was shut down, it was like a Kilg%re 2.0. It caused a pile-up downtown, I was stuck in traffic for a good half hour. Why haven’t you done anything!?”

Iris swore under her breath, grabbing Caitlin’s phone, and sprinted back to the Cortex.

“Are you okay?” Cisco asked automatically. Of course, if the city was in danger he was going to help, but his wife and her safety will always be his number one priority.

Caitlin nodded, leaning into his touch, and he removed his hand from her cheek, to run down her shoulder and arm, then placed them over her stretchy cotton shirt. She was just starting to show.

“You look so beautiful.”

Caitlin put her hand over his on her stomach, her worry disappearing from face as she sighed. “Yeah? I’m finally feeling better. I think the morning sickness is gone for good.”

He leaned forward, lifting her chin to give her a featherlight kiss. She smiled against his lips and wrapped her arms around his neck. The plastic bag with her pills shaking behind him. He pressed their foreheads together.

“Good trip?” he asked.

“Yes. Where’s the little one?”

Cisco chuckled. “In the Cortex with Ralph. Putting on an excellent rendition of Peppa the Pig. That’s banned now, by the way,” he joked lightly.

Caitlin pulled backwards. “What now?”

He grabbed his wife’s hand and tugged her along, telling her she’ll see soon enough.

Amalia noticed as soon as her mommy was there, ditching Ralph to run into her arms. “Mommy listen! Oink!”

“Wow,” Caitlin praised, her voice sweet like syrup. “Did you and Daddy go to a farm?”

“No!” she giggled. She lifted her arms up and Caitlin sighed, putting down her purse and plastic bag to take her daughter.

Cisco went to join Iris, who was desperately trying to reactivate the suit signals. Cisco scooted her out of the chair, flexing his fingers to take over.

“Should we be opening a breach and just go on? Doesn’t Barry need us?” Ralph asked.

“Mama, I want a piggie!”

Cisco was trying to outhack the virus, but paused enough to lift his eyebrows, filling his wife in. “Ralph wants to adopt a pig and apparently now so does our daughter.”

Caitlin laughed, and pulled off her left sock. “You already have piggies!” She tickled her toes as Amalia shrilled.

“Been there. Done that,” Cisco commented dryly. “Hey, what are your opinions on theme park vacations? Barry says Disney World is fun but are you up for that?”

“Mama, can I have a piggie?”

“Um,” Caitlin shot Cisco a helpless look. Cisco made a noise of equal exasperation as he hooked back half of Central City online.

“I can’t give you a piggie, love, but what about a baby brother or sister? And Cisco—I don’t know, theme parks are a drag when pregnant. My feet will hurt from all the walking.”

“Where is Barry!?”

Amalia considered Caitlin’s proposition, but alas, no.

“Piggie!! Piggie!! Piggie!!”

“Yeah that’s what Ralph said. What about a beach? Also they have Disney cruises!” Cisco hummed as his fingers flied over his keyboard, then smacked the counter. “Done. We’re online.”

“Oh! That sounds nice!”

Iris stood in the middle of the cortex, about to pull out her hair. “Is anyone going to help me find my husband!?!!”

Yellow lightning lit up the room as Wally wooshed in with a disorientated Flash.

“Barry!” Iris exclaimed, running to him as he stumbled.

Wally panted, putting his hands on his knees. “Thanks a lot guys.”

“Oh,” Ralph said dumbly. “We forgot about you.”

“You don’t think I noticed that,” Wally snarked back.

He flicked on the TV. Every single channel Wally flipped to as he channel-serfed was showcasing breaking news of Kid Flash basking in glory and saving the day.

“How did you not notice our coms went down?” Barry asked, wincing when Iris gave him a bone crushing hug.

Caitlin put down Amalia to check up on him.

“…Uh.” Ralph said.

Amalia started to spin around in circles, barefoot, oinking.

“The satellites, you didn’t use them?”

Cisco cringed and replied truthfully.

“Couldn’t look at satellites if we weren’t looking at all.”

“What,” Wally’s voice went dangerously flat.

Amalia knocked into Wally’s shin. She grinned up at him when he shot his hand down to keep her steady.

“Uncle Wally will you get a piggie with me and Uncle Ralph?”

Wally eyeballed the little girl, at a loss for words.

Ralph stood up, flexing his fingers. “Well as long as nobody’s too hurt…I guess I’ll go home now.”

“Ow!” Barry yelped from the Med Bay where Caitlin was treating him.

“—Would you just—Hold still—“

“Um,” Ralph said.

“What happened here?” Wally griped.

Iris bit her nails, harried, peering into the Med Bay through the glass window.

“Daddy look!”

“Amalia, stop running around you’re going to trip,” Cisco warned her.

“Piggie!!! Piiiiiiiiiiiig!”

Cisco sent Ralph a death glare. “You did this.”

“Oink! Oink! Oink!”

“You made her,” he shot back.

“Piiiiiiiiiiiiiig—Owie.”

“Was that Amalia?” Caitlin called with concern.

Cisco clamoured over. He knew this was going to happen. And now she was crying, but even a bumped chin couldn’t prevent her from whimpering “piggie” between her hiccups.

“She’s fine!”

He sat on the ground and pulled her close, shushing away her tears, and wiping the wetness away from her eyes, pressing kisses to her chubby cheeks.

Eventually Wally stopped crossing his arms, and let go of trying to size them all up, dropping his arms to his sides in bafflement. “Well?!?!”

Iris, Cisco and Ralph looked at each other nervously, scratching their heads as their eyes slid to Amalia, still screaming for a pig.

“We, uh,” Iris said, tersely. “We got…”

“Distracted,” Cisco filled in.

#the flash #killervibe #westallen #the flash fic #fluff #future fic #tkv fic #Amalia ramon #dante stein ramon #suedibny #elongsue

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thisisheffner · 4 years

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Clubbing: ‘I can’t bear the idea that there is an age at which you should stop’ | Music | The Guardian

Nightclubbing is seen as a young person’s game. Sightings of older clubbers – such as the elderly Polish couple who went viral after a night out at London’s Fabric in 2016 – are considered a novelty. But the septuagenarian tourists – who partied until 5am – are not alone.

A recent poll by ticketing platform Eventbrite found that more than 3.7 million Britons aged over 45 go clubbing every week. The nation’s nightlife may not be in rude health overall, but certain DJs, clubs and clubbers have endured. Fabric turned 20 this year, and DJs such as Danny Rampling and Terry Farley are still drawing crowds 30 years on from the summer of love that made their name. From nostalgia nights to dance festivals, older clubbers – such as Mick Jagger, 76, spotted at gay club night Horse Meat Disco earlier this year – are finding their second wind.

Typically, clubbing loses its appeal in our early 30s; 31 is the age at which most give up, according to a 2017 survey. But for those who do keep dancing, it can be much more than just a night out. What starts as an act of teenage transgression becomes radical in middle age. We talked to six older clubbers who refuse to hang up their dancing shoes. Have they still got the moves?

‘It’s like galloping across the universe in a spaceship’

Brett, 70, and Sylvia Van Toen, 69, retirees (above)

Sylvia Our first love is hard house – it attracts a different, much younger crowd. We go to hard house clubs and festivals, after discovering psytrance at Glastonbury in the mid-90s and thinking, “This is it.” The music builds up tension; you’re waiting for this particular tune and then suddenly it drops in and you’re going yes, yes, yes! Then it carries you along. It’s a bit like galloping across the universe in a spaceship.

I got married at 18 and had children young. I was a housewife. I didn’t know a lot about music, I didn’t dance. Brett and I were in our late 30s when we got together. I had two young children and so we decided to live apart, and we’ve kept doing that. We see each other during the week but get excited about going clubbing together on Fridays. It’s like going on a date.

Brett We are very lucky. Many couples we know don’t like the same music. We go clubbing once a fortnight. It’s intense. It’s hard work. The clubs often run from 11pm to early morning. There are more afternoon clubs now, which I love.

If we go to a dance festival, we make as much effort as we can to get sleep. We take a campervan, which is good because parking tends to be away from the main field. We don’t drink alcohol, just water. We don’t do afterparties; that would hurt. We don’t have any plans to retire, though that might change as we age.

It’s a social thing. We went to heavy techno clubs and it was too dark to dance because you couldn’t see what the hell was going on. So that didn’t work for us. Dancing with other people is important. Clubbing has taught me a way of being I don’t think I would have found otherwise. I used to be curmudgeonly but I have learned a lot of acceptance from hanging around young people. There is much to admire about them. They are also complimentary and it’s a lot of fun. It gives you energy.

‘There’s no judgment: it’s utopia’

Roy Brown, 56, songwriter and club host

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I’m a Brummie lad. I went to my first shebeen [unlicensed bar] in Birmingham, aged 13. It was this small venue behind a shop with huge sound systems in dark rooms, pumping with reggae and ska music. Seeing guys and girls dancing really close to each other, the music pounding, the smell of weed, a lightbulb went off in my head. I thought, this is amazing. That’s why I’m still doing it.

I knew the music – reggae, jazz, funk, blues – because that’s what my parents played at home. My parents were Jamaican and every Caribbean house has these family gatherings with music and food and dancing. That warm place they created in their houses is what I’m trying to emulate when I go clubbing: that womb, that happiness. No one can hurt or harm you because you are with like-minded people.

I moved to London at 18 in 1981, where my cousin Claudette introduced me to a group of fashionistas and club kids. They are still my friends. My aunt lived close to a huge club called Bolts. I walked past it one evening and there was a long queue of clones: gay men dressed identically in check shirts and Levi’s 501s. I had the same epiphany as in the shebeen: I saw like-minded people.

Some of Claudette’s friends sussed me out. Juicy (real name Ronald) came up to me and said: “What’s your game then?” They took me to my first gay bar and it was full steam ahead after that. My motivation was really good music. If there were hot guys there, brilliant. Drugs were a huge part of it. The majority of clubbers were white men but the only thing that mattered was that you stuck to the dress code.

I’m still on the clubbing scene. I started out on the door at the central London club Kinky Gerlinky in 1989. Now I’m a host at the Eagle in south London, where I have my own night, Soul on Saturday. I was MC and host for a club in Ibiza a few summers ago. They fly you out Friday morning for Saturday and Sunday night. I thought, can I do this? I am not 19. I’d aged 20 years. But because of the music and the amazing time, I lost 40 more.

I grew up Methodist and clubbing is like going to church. I still go out now if a night is euphoric. It’s human nature to look for something uplifting. There’s no judgment, just inclusivity. It’s my idea of utopia.

‘That moment a beat drops and everyone’s smiling: it’s wicked’

Victoria Saunders, 50, hairdresser

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I still want to go out and listen to good music played loud. But now I’m older, I don’t want to go to a big busy nightclub. I think, I can’t be arsed, actually. You walk in and you’re told you’ve got to queue here or go here if you want to smoke a fag. I’m an adult, I can manage myself.

When I first went clubbing, it was lawless. In 1988, I was 18 and Ibiza was happening, it was the summer of love. That kickstarted it for me. When I went to Houghton dance music festival in Norfolk last year, I saw people from different points in my clubbing career. It’s nice to see people who still have that affinity.

I’ve always been more of an afterparty girl; I prefer it when all the wallies have gone home. I’d rather take my time and go out at about midnight, ease myself in and then hit a dancefloor.

Hairdressers like me are like Vikings; we can just do it. I remember coming home, having two hours’ sleep, then getting up and going to work. Now it shows more, on my face, after a couple of days. I hit Wednesday and I think, oof. But people tell me I look good for my age. I’ve pickled myself. When you’ve had so much fun and such a laugh going out, that also shows.

I go to a club called Pikes in Ibiza, where Wham! shot the video for Club Tropicana. I like to properly lose myself in music – that moment a beat drops and everyone’s smiling because they know it, that feeling of oneness: it’s wicked.

I was at a house party recently and my friend was up dancing. She said, “If I don’t do this now, I’ll be dancing in the aisles of Tesco.” It’s rare to find those moments as you get older, but 30 years of clubbing means it’s something that’s deep in you. You hear good music and you just want to dance.

‘After we scattered my stepdad’s ashes, I needed to get to Horse Meat Disco’

Amanda Freeman, 56, music publicist

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I’m straight, but I prefer gay clubbing. It started in the early 2000s, when I went to places such as the Joiners Arms in east London with gay friends. It was a completely different world.

My friend Dan opened a gay bar in east London, Dalston Superstore, in 2009; by then I had been single a long time. It was a nonjudgmental space. There was no stigma attached to being a woman of my age as there could be in a straight environment; at a straight club, I’d be lucky if they let me in.

I’ve had a couple of difficult years. My mother has multiple sclerosis and my stepfather had dementia. I’m an only child, so I’ve been juggling all of this. My stepfather died in March. The weekend we scattered his ashes, I remember thinking, when I get home I’m going out to Horse Meat Disco. If I’ve been through a tough time, going out is the way to put myself back on track.

A lot of the younger people I’ve met out clubbing have been incredibly supportive. Not to say that my older friends haven’t, but they have kids and their own stuff going on. It seems easier for millennials to make those approaches, to ask me how my mum is doing, how I am. I’ve been hugely grateful for that.

I am happy to go out on my own, which is empowering. I can go to regular places and see people I know, or chat to people I’ve not met before. The music is important. My nickname is Lady D’Amanda because I’m very forward about asking the DJ for certain tracks. I’m first on the dancefloor and get people to dance with me. It’s always done in a joyful way.

I can’t bear the idea that there is an age at which you should stop. I feel more comfortable in my 50s than I did in my 40s. I chose not to be in a relationship and nobody in this community has ever questioned that. They admire people who have ploughed their own furrow, and a club night was held in my honour in January.

I hope I am an ally. I’m a music publicist and I am always available if LGBTQ artists or acts want help or advice. I’ve suddenly acquired a tribe: the community is made up of many different people, ages and persuasions. It doesn’t matter. It’s about what you bring to it. It’s a small world but it’s a really important one to me. A doorman once said to me, “You’re an icon”. That’s a lovely thing to be.

‘Drugs aren’t my thing. Someone asked what I’d had and I showed them my sandwich’

Suddi Raval, 49, music technology teacher

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Acid house took over my life at 15, in 1986. The music was on the radio. Smiley faces – the acid house symbol – popped up on the news. House music has melodies and basslines but acid house was abstract, bendy, weird. It was like music from another world. It just grabbed my attention.

There was a week that changed my life. I was walking down the street in my home town, Ashton-under-Lyne. I was too young to go out but I dressed as if I was on the acid house scene: long hippy hair, a jumper by French brand Chipie. This guy called Kelvin came up to me. He could tell from my clothes that I was into that music and said: “You need to go to the Hacienda and the Blackburn raves warehouse parties.” I said: “I’d love to but I wouldn’t know how.” He said he’d take me, and he did.

I couldn’t believe it when I set foot in the Hacienda in Manchester. There were a couple of thousand people as into it as I was. I didn’t know everyone was off their heads, drugs were not my thing. One time at the raves, someone asked what I’d had. I didn’t know they meant drugs. I reached into my bag and pulled out my butty box, a pile of cheese and ham sandwiches and a can of Coke – you can’t dance all night on an empty stomach.

The only nights I wouldn’t go to the Hacienda were when it was closed. I’ve never stopped. As I get older, young people think I am either the DJ, a promoter or a drug dealer. I’m usually the only brown face in a club. I’ve always been in a minority; there were so few Indian, Pakistani or Asian clubbers. But I’ve always felt 100% safe.

I live in London now and go out a couple of times a month to clubs across the UK. I pick up my friend Sarah and drive to the Attic in Liverpool. It’s not about nostalgia; I go to dance to new music. It’s difficult to get back to normality if you stay up to 6am, so I don’t stay out late. I’m a teacher, so I have to function at 100%. My clubbing gives me credibility with my students. I’ve not been clubbing with them, though they’ve asked.

I met my wife when I was in London for an acid house night. She was concerned I might be into drugs. She’s come out clubbing with me, but she’s a doctor so she’s usually on call. She’s not a convert but she’s not against it. Our wedding in 2017 turned into a rave. It couldn’t have worked if she’d thought, who is this man-child obsessed with dance music?

My mum found it really cute that I had smiley faces all over my bedroom as a teenager. When I visited her up north recently, she showed me a smiley face emoji on her phone. “Look, Suddi,” she smiled, “acid!’” I said, “Yes, Mum, you are bang on! That is acid!” I was so proud.

• If you would like your comment on this piece to be considered for Weekend magazine’s letters page, please email [email protected], including your name and address (not for publication).

This content was originally published here.

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abakersquest · 7 years

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CHAPTER THREE - HOME AND HEARTH

Gateside Way was a residential area on the southward side of The Outers near Animana’s main gate. There, many quickly and cheaply assembled houses were built as close together as possible to make as much room as they could for the incoming refugees. Such proximity made for a very close knit community and very small roads between each house. As walls were thin, and windows more suggestions, if you cooked a delicious meal, you’d best prepare extras for anyone who could smell it next door. If there was a rumor going around the city, you could be sure to hear it here.

Now, as neither the royal carriage nor the greater dynas that pulled it could make it past the first row of houses, Wally had continued on foot. As he did he was greeted by many, there were several requests for recipes, and small children asking if he’d brought more cookies. He smiled and waved, giving the most polite, if glib, responses he could, apologized here and there and ended up having to help at least one ball out of a tree before, finally, he was home.

The Walter Homestead was really no different from the other hastily constructed, glorified shacks. But to Wally’s eyes, it was nothing but his purely unique home. All the love and hard work the Walter family happily poured into it made the small space a palace in all their eyes. Wally knocked on the door and listened for the telltale patter of bounding feet.

“Who is it?” called a sweet voice from somewhere below the door’s middle.

In that exact instant, Wally’s soul grew ten times lighter and his more playful side felt safe to emerge once more. “Someone who knows you shouldn’t be answering the door, little bouncer.”

There was a sound of latches and locks being quickly undone, the door swung inward quickly and a wallaby much smaller than Walter and wearing a pink sundress shot out like a tensioned spring, tackling him to the ground. “WALLY!” she cried joyously as she embraced him.

Wally chortled breathlessly as the childish missile had expelled all the air in his lungs. As he patted her lovingly on the back a second wallaby, in somewhat shabbier attire than his own and only an inch or so shorter than him came to the open doorway.

“Mum,” he called out loudly but in a strangely flat tone. “Isabelle killed Wally.”

Finally reclaiming the air knocked out of him Wally wheezed, “I’m not dead, Dale.”

Dale stared for a moment and scratched at the fur under his chin lazily. “Mum, Isabelle almost killed Wally.”

Her face still buried in Wally’s chest, little Isabelle replied, “bidnob!”

Slowly, Wally lifted himself up with Isabelle still firmly latched to his torso. He made no move to dislodge her, simply stepping into the house and passing by Dale who closed the door behind him, noticing something out of place with his older brother.

“Wally, ‘zat a sword on your back?”

Isabelle’s ears sprang to full attention and she scrambled upward to look over Wally’s shoulder. “It looks like a sword!”

“Z’it a gift for da?” Dale yawned.

“Is it?” Isabelle asked. “I thought da didn’t like swords anymore.”

Wally finally dislodged his sister and set her on her feet. “I’ll tell you both at the dinner table, mum and da too, alright?”

Isabelle had already dashed off at the word dinner, her seat rocking slightly as she’d sat down far too quickly.

Wally stood by the entrance of what could, by either a compassionate or irrational mind, be called a kitchen. His mother, Janice, was humming something that sounded familiar as she stirred a ladle through a massive pot of something boiling. Closing his eyes and breathing in the scent, he knew instantly it was Adleroot Stew with Chopped Tan. He made his way over to his mother, reached up to a cabinet and pulled out a small shaker of Surry Spice before his mother smacked it out his hand with a spoon.

“Don’t care how many cooks you worked with, you’re not changing any of my recipes.”

“… Just a lit-”

Wally’s mother stared down at him, which was a remarkable feat given that they were the same height.

“Right, fine as it is Mum.” Wally smiled and stood off to the side to give her room before he counted off the chairs at the table. “Mum, were you… Expecting me?”

“I’m always expecting you, dear.” With the help of her apron to grip the pot handles, Wally’s mother moved the pot off the fire. “You think just ‘cause you strike out on your own and leave your poor mother to wonder if you’re eatin’ right and stayin’ healthy I won’t have a place at the table for you.”

Resisting the overpowering impulse to roll his eyes, Wally simply put that energy toward a smile. “It’s a little late for guilt, mum. Moved out five years ago, remember?”

She glanced at him once before pulling up some bowls from the nearby cabinet. “Are your hands clean?”

This time it took almost biting through the tip of his tongue not to groan. “Yes, of course they are.”

“Then sit down, it’s almost ready and your father should be home soon… Now, what on Mondia is that business you’re carryin’ on your back there?”

Wally slipped off the sheath’s strap and set the Flare down in the corner of the room. “That… I’m going to explain once da gets in.”

“You’d better. You know how your father feels about swords and I wouldn’t want you aggravating him now.”

Wally nodded quietly and sat at the table. Beside him his little sister wiggled in her chair and bit the ends of her thumbs, anxious for the new story he was going to tell. Opposite him, his younger brother lazily eyed the sword. Wally knew that expression only hid a keen mind that found most tasks so easy as to be boring.

“… S’magic, innit?” Dale said as he leaned back into his chair.

Isabelle gasped sharply and stared even harder at Wally.

He reached over and patted her on the head till she calmed down. “Sharp as ever, Dale. Yes, it is, and that’s all I’m saying.”

“Don’t think da likes magic swords any better, but it’s worth the shot, I’d say.”

“I’ll have no shooting of any kind in here,” said their mother as she rounded the table and set down bowls and a platter of Rolls. “It’s a lovely sentiment dear, but I honestly don’t think it makes for any kind of gift for your father.”

“It’s. Not. For. Da.” Wally sternly announced.

“No? Then why on Mondia would you bring a magic sword home with you?”

“Who’s got a magic sword then dear?”

The amiable yet strong voice of Nathaniel J. Walter had a special gift to it. It could fill a room faster than the wallaby himself could enter it. The sound of his iron peg leg thudding against the floor was always drowned out by it, making you forget it was even there. But what you wouldn’t forget is the sight of no less than the stoutest wallaby in the world. There was no one who could call him small without a tinge of irony, as his presence made him seem a towering fellow in a 3 foot frame.

“HI DA!” Shouted Isabelle, who was just about to rush her father before her mother’s tail nudged her right back into her seat.

Mr. Walter clomped his way over to the small family table, patted Dale on the shoulder, kissed Isabelle on the head, his wife on the cheek, and shook Wally’s hand before finally settling into the seat at the head of the table to clean his glasses, as he had every single day his children could remember.

Isabelle set to tugging her oldest brother’s sleeve. “Da’s here Wally, so tell ‘im about the Magic Sword!”

“Wally,” Nathaniel laughed. “You know better than to get your sister all excited before dinner with some silly… Little…” Nathaniel voice trailed off as something shone in the corner of the room and caught his eye. He spent quite some time trying to convince his brain to make sense out of whatever it was, because it couldn’t possible be what he thought. He cleared his throat, rubbed his eyes as subtly as anyone could, put on his glasses, and forced himself to stare right at it. Then, finally, in a voice barely louder than a whisper he said, “That’s… The Stellar Flare.”

Wally raised his profile in the chair in surprise. “Hang on, da, how’d you know that’s what it was?”

“Son, you see it once, you never forget it. I fixed Sir Hammond’s gauntlets once and saw him set it by his side as I did. Closest look I ever got to it. Wally, what… What’s goin’ on son?”

Wally gestured to his mother, that she should take a seat as he readied everyone for the story of a lifetime. He told them how the Flare fell from the sky and into his life, chosen him to wield it in some unknown conflict, how he’d just been knighted by the king himself and that he’d be leaving tomorrow with Sir Hector. His parents sat there in stark silence, taking in every word. Dale folded his arms on the table and rested his chin on them, relaxed but mindful. Isabelle looked as if sunshine would explode out of her if she stopped moving for even one moment, wiggling desperately in her chair to keep it all in until Wally finished.

“And that’s… Well… About the size of it, really.”

The old clock that hung beside the stovepipe ticked louder than it ever had in the absence of the Walter Family’s voices. Then, all at once, Nathaniel, Janice, and Isabelle Walter unleashed a torrent of questions, comments, and purely emotional jabbering that’d deafen anyone not used to this exact rabble from years of family life. Wally and Dale said nothing, silently counting the seconds until the inevitable, they always started at four and counted down expertly to the exact moment Nathaniel started striking the floor with his false leg.

“Alright, alright! That’s enough of all that!” The wallaby patriarch called out before clasping his hands on the table. “Round the table, same as always. Wally spoke his peace so we go clockwise.”

Isabelle’s chair almost teetered over, a recoil of her excited hopping as she readied to belt out the loudest vocalizations of excitement and wonderment ever to leave a child.

“Except we’re skipping Isabelle, we all know what you’re gonna say dear.”

She froze on the spot; her expression sank like a rock as she slumped back into her chair, huffing loudly as she crossed her arms in pure childish frustration.

The eyes around the table all turned to the stern and motherly face. “Well,” Janice began, in the universally recognized tone of motherhood. “You’re not going. I don’t care if the king himself drags you off by your ears! You take that sword to the castle tomorrow and you tell them ‘no’. End of discussion. It’s not enough my husband loses his leg in defense of this country now they want my Wally to save the whole world?”

Wally began to say something, only to have the trial worthy clop of an iron prosthetic cut him and his mother off.

“Best choice really,” Dale spoke over his arms. “Better n’some one with no sense to ‘em. I mean… Wally doesn’t know how to use a sword, yeah? So he’s the best choice because he knows they’re dangerous. Someone who waves ‘em ‘round all the time’s just gonna use it whenever they want and not think first.”

Wally smiled. “Thank you, Dale.”

“’Course, you should actually learn how to use it. Don’t go loppin’ off yer own ear er nuffin.”

Wally sighed. “Thank you, Dale.”

Attention then turned to the oldest wallaby in the room. He leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes and sat quite still for a well sized moment. “Wally,” He began, his position unchanged. “Do you want to go? Honestly?”

With strangely little pause, Wally replied, “Honestly da, I need to go.”

Nathaniel Walter finally moved, leaning in closer to hear what his son had to say to the following question. “Need because they told you to, or because you told them?”

Wally’s shoulders relaxed as he looked around the room at his family. “I thought about this on the way here, really thought. I finally managed to calm down enough that it all started to sink in. At first I thought, there was nothing in my life that could’ve prepared me for what’s about to come. But I was wrong… Everything you and mum have ever taught me, all those lessons and morals, it’s exactly what I needed to make this choice. It’s dangerous, it’s scary, I have no idea how much this will change me or if I’ll even still be me by the end of it.” He took a breath, not because he needed the air but the time. Time to make sure he didn’t regret or second guess a single word. “But then,” he continued. “I wouldn’t be who I am, the wallaby you raised me to be, if I stayed.”

There was a pause of exactly five seconds before Janice filled the room with a long held noise of both sadness and elation as she stood, rounded the table, grabbed Wally out of his chair and held him as tightly as she could. Through quickly forming sobs she shouted “I’M SO PROUD OF YOU!”

The rest of the night was no different than any other for the Walter family. A single fireplace to warm the small space, crackling idly as a near silent witness to stories shared at the table. Isabelle demanded Wally bring her souvenirs from all around the world, which she was certain he’d be going. Dale complained that, once again, their father had sent him home early from the smithy and had taken on more work than he should. Nathaniel reminded Dale that the shop might be his someday, but that he wasn’t quite dead enough for him to claim it. Janice talked about the wedding dress she’d finished and delivered that afternoon before coming home to ready dinner, which she quickly parleyed into a demand that if Wally met some fine girl on his journey he’d better bring her home first and not even think the word ‘elope’ if he knew what was good for him.

In retrospect, Wally hardly said anything. He simply enjoyed being the receptacle to his family’s emotions, loving every moment of their company as he had before. It was the most normal thing about his day and made up for the enormous changes that had come his way. Soon it grew late and the sun set on The Outers, leaving the Walter family to settle in for the night.

After an all too brief moment of dreamless sleep, Wally stirred uncomfortably in his cot. Resigned that he couldn’t find the willingness to lie back down, he padded carefully to the front door, stepping outside for some fresh air. Instead he found is father sitting on the small porch, watching the second moon crest over the far wall of the city.

They eyed each other silently before settling on watching the blue moon in motion above them.

Finally, it was Nathaniel that broke the silence. “How many moons are there, son?”

Wally locked up for the briefest moment at the sudden sound of his father’s voice in the dead silent night. He puzzled on what kind of question that was before he replied, “four. Idium, Nares, Tygon, and Rali.”

“And how do you know that?”

Wally could feel a hint of incredulity taint his expression. “Well, you taught me that of course.”

“Right…” Nathanial took of his glasses and set to clean them as he spoke. “Because it’d been taught to me by my father, and him his father… Down the line for who knows how long.”

“… I’m sorry I’m having trouble understanding just where this is going, da.”

“Parents teach their children things they learned in life, passing on what they think their children need to not just survive, but live. So I sit here and remember the little wallaby on this knee,” he patted it for emphasis, “askin’ his da the names of the moons.”

Wally smiled at the flash of memory.

His father looked down at his glasses. “Never thought for a minute, I’d have to teach you how to fight a war. Kinda regret bein’ so quiet about my time in the United Front.”

“You’ve your reasons, I don’t doubt.”

“Mmm, that I do son. War’s an ugly business, not something children should ever have to learn that much about.”

Wally’s ears drooped slightly. “But that’s the case isn’t it… Going off with Sir Hector and the Flare in tow means I’m probably going off to the start of a war or worse.”

“Nail on the head, my boy,” he put his glasses back on and leaned back on his arms.

Silence came and settled in between the two of them, followed by the sound of Wally sitting next to his father. The night wind whistled over the lip of the city wall behind them, and in the distance the Dores River continued its constant rambling. Wally then felt the hand of his father clasp onto his shoulder and put his own hand over it.

“I don’t know where you’ll be tomorrow son, and that’s got this old wallaby spooked. But don’t you worry ‘bout me for a minute, y’hear? Because I’ll tell you this right now.”

Wally looked to his father, had he not been rendered speechless, he might have remarked that he’d never seen tears in his eyes before.

“You’re gonna do amazing things, and I don’t think for one moment Mondia could be in better hands.”

Wally wiped a few tears from his own eyes. “Thanks da.”

Slowly the moment passed, the two of them returned to their beds; much to the grumbling dismay of the others they woke on their way back inside. Later that night Isabelle would sleepily made her way out of her hammock, and plop herself down hard on Wally’s chest. He considered that her tiny revenge for waking her earlier, and let her sleep.

Soon morning came to greet the household and cued the sounds and smells of a fresh breakfast that Wally had insisted on preparing, despite his mother’s protest. He, of course, made a few extra rolls for the neighbors who came to the kitchen window. It wasn’t long, however, until sounds of shock and surprise slowly approached their home, followed by polite knocking. Isabelle bounded off toward the door, only to be intercepted half way by her mother.

“Honestly Izzy, why do I always have ta’ race you to answer th’ door?”

Isabelle giggled as her mother set her back down.

Janice perked her ears and straightened her clothes as she approached the door. “Who is it?”

“Cinera Rodichenko Olasky. But most people call me ‘Cinera’ since the rest of that is a mouthful.”

She rolled her eyes. “As in the royal seer? Right, and I’m the flippin’ queen.”

“A remarkable feat getting here before me, your majesty. I’ll have to match it.”

There was a rush of air inside the Walter homestead and a flash of blue light that left in its wake one squirrel sorceress.

“Oh would you look at that, queen’s already left has she? Here I am showing off and she’s done me one better. Fancy that.”

Janice quickly grabbed up her daughter defensively at Cinera’s sudden appearance. Isabelle wiggled excitedly in her grasp. “MUM! MUM THAT WAS MAGIC, RIGHT? THAT WAS AMAZING!”

Cinera bowed gracefully toward the tiny excited child. “Always happy to put on a good show, my dear. Now, I’m really hoping Sir Wally actually lives here, or I’m going to look very silly having barged in so rudely.”

Wally sighed as he approached the scene; he took Isabelle from his mother and replaced her with a cup of fresh Nidan Tea. “Mother, Seer Cinera. Cinera, this is my mother, Janice Walter.”

Cinera bowed her head respectfully. “A pleasure, I’m sure.”

Wally’s mother struggled for a few moments, before finally drinking a sip of tea and relaxing.

Isabelle wiggled around in Wally’s arms to face him. “Wally! Wally! That was magic right? She did magic?”

“Pretty sure it was, little bouncer.” Wally set her down. “Now, go help Dale set another place at the table.”

“Ah.” Cinera interrupted. “As lovely as it would be to sit down with you all… I’m afraid we don’t have the time. In fact, less than I would’ve thought. I need to bring you back to the castle immediately.”

“Oh… Well then I… I supposed duty calls then?” Wally laughed, more to keep himself from feeling miserable for walking out on breakfast with his family. But as he looked around the room at them all, he was surprised to see no disappointment. Instead, proud and happy smiles greeted his eyes.

“Well son, you best not keep the king and queen waiting, then, eh?” said Wally’s father as he stood up from the table. He reached down to the corner of the kitchen and pulled up a pack, bringing it over to Wally. “Other reason I was up last night, packed you some essentials and clothes. You know me, ain’t happy if my hands ain’t busy.”

“Oh!” Isabelle quickly rushed to her small toy box and pulled from it a beaded bracelet made from the shells of knoka nuts. “Here Wally! It’s my favorite one, you have it. For good luck.”

It certainly wasn’t tea warming his heart at that moment as he kneeled down to receive his sister’s gift. “Thank you Isabelle.”

While she helped put it on his wrist, Wally looked over to his brother, neither said a word, but they shared a meaningful nod. He patted Isabelle on the head and took the pack from his father, attaching the Flare to it.

“Now, you be careful out there Wally, mind your mother now!” Janice said, clearly holding back tears.

“Always do, mum.” Wally hefted the pack onto his back before hugging his mother.

The family gathered together as Wally stepped outside with Cinera who were greeted by the curious and amazed eyes of what must have been the entire neighborhood. Cinera looked around and a devious smile spread across her face.

“COME ALONG NOW, SIR WALLY!” She shouted. “THE KING AND QUEEN AWAIT THE ARRIVAL OF THEIR NEWEST KNIGHT!”

Wally recoiled at both the sound and the declaration before following after Cinera. “You probably shouldn’t have done that… But thank you.”

“I probably shouldn’t do a lot of the things I do… When they become less fun, I’ll take that under advisement. Also, you’re welcome.”

Wally smiled and found himself standing a little straighter than he had all of yesterday, and perhaps, every moment of his life before then.

<[Chapter 02]–[Index]–[Chapter 04]>

#A Baker's Quest #Writing

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