#sorry bout the wait

[theflann]

hiii againnnnn, long time no see y'all, did ya miss me?

[countyflagchampionship]

Round 2 begins today!

[stevebabey]

you thought it would be all sweetness??? nooo u got to have a little miscommunication angst before anyone gets any hickies. but they will. in time >:) part one. part two. this is a part three :)

Steve blames it all on the clock.

That stupid cuckoo clock on the wall of the Munson trailer. It's an absolute horror of interior design that would make Steve’s mom shiver if she ever laid eyes on it. It’s probably why Eddie loves it — and the god-awful cuckoo! noise it makes when it goes off.

Because the moment Eddie utters that delightful question, asking for a hickie, the nerve of him, Steve loves it — and Steve is more than ready to oblige him — the stupid clock goes off.

It gives them both a fright, Steve more than Eddie. He gives a whole-body twitch that shifts them both, his head snapping to the wall, a breath forced out of his lungs at the sight of the mustard-coloured bird. Shit. Stupid fuckin’ clock, Steve thinks.

But it seems to break the trance over the room. The sweet tension of their shared closeness is sucked out of the room in an instant. Steve is suddenly aware of the time the popping out bird is announcing. It’s late. Far later than Steve intended to stay over, especially considering work tomorrow.

Without meaning to, the prickle under Steve’s skin rolls through his body. It steals away the comfort that he usually feels with Eddie, tenseness filling his body. Steve hates it — hates how he can’t stop himself from tensing up beneath Eddie.

Eddie notices. He's quick to to retract himself from Steve, pushing up and back, giving Steve his space. He sits beside Steve on the couch, still close. Not close enough to touch.

It helps. The rigidness of Steve's body relaxes just a bit but Steve doesn’t want that. He wants Eddie back on him. Wants his hands gripping Steve’s side. His breath fanning over Steve’s face, cheeks cherry red and pupils blown wide. Steve doesn’t say any of that and he sure is shit isn't brave enough to ask for it.

Instead, he croaks, “It’s late.”

Steve reluctantly pushes himself up from his slumped position, eyes already searching for his scattered shoes. He misses the way Eddie’s face falls, the way he tries to tug his hair in front of his face to hide the hurt. It takes another second to school his expression.

Steve hears a cough and then Eddie agrees with a murmur. “Yeah, sure.”

The words ache. No part of Steve is relieved to have Eddie agree with him. He’s not sure what he wanted; for Eddie to egg him to stay just a little while longer? To prove that their kisses hadn’t been a heat of the moment impulsivity? There's nothing to prove they weren't.

No, it was Steve who said he had to go. It is late. But then again maybe, Eddie wanted him to leave. But, no— Eddie just asked for a hickie, he wouldn’t—

“Don’t you have work early tomorrow?” Steve’s spiral cuts short at Eddie’s voice, tinged with… irritation?

O-kay. Now Steve’s not sure what to think. What had been the source of immense joy because Steve had asked for a kiss and Eddie said yes is suddenly… tilted.

The beginnings of embarrassment begin to cling to Steve like a thick fog. He’s done it again. Been overly eager. Asked for too much, too soon— fuck, that had been Eddie’s first kiss too.

“Yeah,” Steve replies, standing and shoving his foot into the one shoe he can find. He spies the other one under the table and wiggles it out with his toe. He can’t find in it to look at Eddie, not just yet. “Yeah, uh, I should get going.”

It’s all wrong. Steve shouldn’t be leaving — not on these terms. Not when he can’t look at Eddie for fear of what he’ll find. Regret? Steve’s not sure if he could face Eddie again, not if there’s even a trace of it on his face. It would feel like Halloween all over again, a bludgeon on Steve’s too-soft heart. It’ll crumble, he just knows it.

Steve wants to stay. He really wants to. He wants to ask for another kiss, ask for a dozen more kisses. Wants to give the hickie Eddie asked so nicely for and receive one back; matching love bites, like a gentler version of their matching twisted scars adorning their sides.

But he’s always asking for more. Steve always needs more. It’s greedy. It’s embarrassing how much he wants it, how he’s already gotten patient touches from Eddie but it’s not enough. Eddie had sounded a pinch annoyed — even aggravated at Steve.

It doesn't cross his mind that it might be for any other reason. Really, Steve thinks he’s doing Eddie a favour.

“Um,” Steve clears his throat, takes the wobble out of his words. Nods to himself and chances a glimpse at Eddie. The older is staring down at his lap, locks of hair trapped between twitchy fingers. They should talk about it. Steve’s not brave enough to risk his heart tonight.

“Well, g’night.” He says quietly, letting himself out the trailer door. He closes it behind him gently, shoes tapping against the stairs on the way down. It feels wrong, it feels wrong — but it would be selfish to turn back.

He repeats the sentiment over and over, raspy whispers beneath his breath as he climbs into his car. It would be selfish. The engine turns over and he hesitates for just a moment, hoping to catch a silhouette in the kitchen window. It’s empty. Of course, it’s empty.

Of course, Eddie is not chancing for a glance at him on his way out because Steve just asked for more and more and more, and he took Eddie’s first kiss and then— He whispers it to himself again. It would be selfish to turn back.

When he thinks about it on the drive home, Steve’s sure it all comes back to that stupid fucking clock.

-

Eddie stares in the mirror.

He’s not sure why he was so convinced there would be some radical change in him upon popping his make-out cherry but… well, here he was. Staring in the mirror like he had this morning. Except 10 hours earlier, he had been unkissed.

Tonight, the difference shows. His lips are rosier than usual, a swell to them given by hasty sweet kisses. It’s the only evidence of his spit-sharing moment of passion with Steve on the couch. The rosy colour is already beginning to fade.

Eddie sinks his teeth in. He doesn’t want the only physical proof that he even got to kiss Steve to be gone so soon. Even if that fact seems terribly bitter now.

“What the shit did you do, Munson?” He murmurs to himself in the tiny bathroom mirror.

It’s got toothpaste specks splayed across it. Eddie stares past them. Stares into his own face, reading every change in his features as emotions inside him churn. It’s heading for a distraught expression, the upturn of his brows and quiver in his lips giving him away. He always was a crier. Eddie really wishes he wasn’t.

“Idiot!” He pairs the word with a bang on the wall beside the mirror, frustration leaking out. The toothbrush on the sink shudders in its cup with a clink.

Eddie hates the welling in his eyes. He hates that he ruined the first fuckin’ good thing to happen to him in this town. Loathes that he drives away the first person who actually knows him and still wants to kiss him.

Well, wanted to kiss him.

Eddie’s pretty sure Steve scampering out of the trailer is more than a big enough sign. It’s a blazingly bright neon sign — light up words that say ‘This was a mistake!’

Except, it hadn’t felt at all like a mistake to Eddie. It had felt wonderful, better than anything he had thought, the soft curve of Steve’s lips, the grip on his hands on Eddie’s face, the heat in his face, the— Eddie growls, wiping his hand down his face to shake the thoughts. Too good to be true was what it was.

It’s because of what he said. Of what he asked for. It had to be that. But— but Steve had looked eager and almost excited and then the stupid clock had gone off, scaring the shit out of them both. Maybe it was then that Eddie’s words had sunk in and Steve realised what he’d gotten into— and who he’d gotten into it with.

“You had to ask for more, huh?” Eddie scolds himself angrily, wiping his cheeks harshly when a tear streaks free. Another follows, just as fast. Eddie wipes roughly at his face to clear them. Doesn’t care about the streaks of red he leaves on his cheeks. Another trembling reprimand comes out. “You just had to push it, huh? You fuckin’ idiot.”

Eddie can’t stand his reflection anymore. He tears his gaze away as he spins and heads straight for his room.

The button on his stereo is sticky and it takes a few forceful clicks to turn it on, but when he does, he cranks it. It’s loud enough he’ll surely wake some neighbours. Eddie can’t find it in him to care, not even when the neighbours dog starts off with its incessant barking. Anything to stop hearing himself cry.

-

“Something’s up with Eddie.” is the first thing Robin says when she comes in the front door.

Steve’s mid-yawn when she does, a result of a night of tossing and turning, and he somehow manages a strange choke at her words. In a haste to shut his mouth, he chomps on his fingers covering his mouth — then hisses, pulling it away from his face. He ignores Robin’s perplexed expression, shoving the hand deep in his pocket. His ears feel a tad hotter.

“What? Why? What makes you think that?” Steve asks the questions in rapid succession. Very chill, he chides himself. At this rate, Robin would have him all figured out 10 minutes into their shift.

And it’s not like— well, Robin’s advice is usually great. A bit cut-throat, sure. She doesn’t have a problem trodding on his feelings on her way to tell him the hard truth. Usually, it’s fine. Steve could probably do with a bit of ego-bruising.

Today, he’s… It’s different. That’s what Steve tells himself. This thing with Eddie, he wants to fix it himself. And with too much meddling from Robin’s advice, even if it was with the best intentions, might mix things up too much. It’s hard enough keeping his half-baked apology that’s been brewing since last night in proper order in his mind.

Thankfully, Robin doesn’t comment on his odd demeanor. She just bustles into the back room — there are a couple sounds of her dumping her stuff. When she comes back out the front, she’s fixing her Family Video vest. It looks perfectly straight to Steve.

He checks his own — it’s sitting askew, part of the collar flipped over. He hastily fixes it, running his hands down the front to smooth it a bit.

“Just,” Robin starts, talking as she sits in front of the computer, beginning to take a crack at the admin she managed. She likes doing things as she talks, Steve knows. Helps keep her from letting words run away from her.

Steve’s thankful for it now because she isn’t looking at him when she says, “I think he might have had a bad nightmare last night, or something of that sort. I don’t know. Maybe I’m way off — you know how I am with trying to read people, Steve. I’m not good at it! But when I saw him, he just seemed…”

Robin seems to take an extra moment to deliberate her word choice. Steve’s really glad she’s still facing the computer so she can’t see the myriad of emotions that show on his face.

“…Off.” is the word she decides on.

Which means bad. Steve feels like he’s swallowed a stone. It sinks deep into his stomach. It burns, sour and scorned, twisting up his gut. It means Eddie is bad — it means disappointment, means he regretted it. That Steve had been right; that he’d been too eager, too soon. Too much.

Right. Of course, this happens again. Really, Steve had brought it on himself by asking for so much. It had been one thing to ask for a hug — who actually has to do that? — and then to expect he might get Eddie to kiss him too? What a overstep. Christ, he's an idiot.

“That’s not…” He hears himself say, still lost in his thoughts. It's only when Robin turns on the stool, brows raised, that Steve realises he hasn’t finished his sentence. “Good. That’s not good. To hear.”

Steve turns and starts shuffling around the films on the returns cart, picking them up at random. He stares at a copy of ‘The Princess Bride’ in his hands, a new release, and forces out a causal question.

“What made you think that?” He asks, shoving the film into an empty slot, like he was arranging them. He’s relieved when Robin’s clicking on the keyboard resumes, along with a dramatic sigh.

“I don’t know. I don’t know if I can be trusted to read anyone’s emotions correctly at any given time, honestly. Remember that old lady? I thought she was being sweet that whole time and then you told me she was being rude! And I couldn’t even tell…”

Robin’s ramble is comforting and helpful to Steve in a way he didn’t know they could be. He presses the cart out, finally getting a move on with it, but delivers a quick nod to Robin when she’s looking to let her know he’s still tuned in. He listens to her get distracted by another topic and leaves Eddie’s name in the dust. It’s a silent relief.

It’s a task to multi-task, listening and devising a plan, but Steve has all shift to find the balance. It’s sometime between finishing re-stocking the action section and starting the romance that Steve decides he should apologise. He should go over today and apologise.

Eddie’s a big boy but Steve’s fairly certain now, if he regretted it, Eddie had probably felt obliged to kiss him back. Probably hadn’t minded the first kiss but- but— Something sticks in his brain; it was Eddie’s first kiss.

It makes Steve feel worse. It doesn’t matter, really, Steve should say sorry for all of it. God, he’s such an idiot.

By the time he’s clocked out, it’s all set in place. He’s got a dozen different apologies running in a loop in his head, reciting the words in time with his anxious tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not a long drive out to Forest Hills Trailer Park. The drive is well-known now. Steve tries hard not to wallow in what he might be losing today. What he lost because he’d been too greedy with want.

The sight of a brown van parked roadside yanks him from his thoughts. Eddie’s van. Steve’s stomach turns, nerves gnawing faster. He slows, trying to catch eye of the other boy as he rolls to a stop behind the van. The sun is beginning to dip closer to the horizon, the temperature going with it.

At the same time, they see each other; Eddie’s head popping around the raised hood to see who had stopped, right as Steve pops his door. Eddie retreats in an instant. Steve's chest grows a bit tighter.

Gravel crunches underfoot as Steve takes a few wary steps closer. It doesn’t take more than a couple before Eddie calls out. He doesn’t bother poking his head out again.

“Go away, Steve.”

Steve swallows thickly. Yeah, okay, he deserves that. He deserves probably worse than that. But more importantly than that, Eddie deserves to hear this. And Steve... needs to not lose Eddie.

“Can I… can we talk?” Steve asks, taking a couple steps closer. A car whizzes by on the road, hidden from Steve's view behind the van. He still keeps his distance, hovering. His hands clench nervously at his sides. Steve shoves them deep in his jean pockets, wiping the sweat off them as he goes.

“What part of ‘Go away’ isn’t clear enough for you?” Eddie snarks back. He still doesn't stick his head out, still won’t look at Steve. It stings.

“I know, I’m sorry,” Steve starts, another instinctive step forward taken. “I-I just, I shouldn’t have left like I did last night. I wanted to apologise.”

There’s a clattering from behind the hood like Eddie’s dropped a tool. He swears. Steve wants to take another step, wants to see Eddie — wants to read every emotion and apologise for causing any of the ugly ones.

“Well, apology accepted,” Eddie responds. There’s a bite in his words. His next words are grumblier, quieter. “And message fuckin’ received.”

What? “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“That—” Finally, Eddie steps away from the van, rounding the hood to march up to Steve. His arms cross over his chest, a wrinkle set between his brows that pull his face into a glare. Robin was right; he is off. This isn’t normal Eddie. Fuck, Steve had fucked up bad.

“That means message received, Steve.” Eddie seethes. He uncrosses his arms to gesture wildly. Steve misses the wobble in his bottom lip. “Message received loud and clear! I get it!”

And all Steve wants to ask is: get what? He doesn’t ask that. He should know what. That would be an idiotic question, would make Eddie more irritated. Lord knows, Steve has been enough of a fool in the last day. So, he doesn’t ask.

“Look, I just…” Steve starts, words a bit weak. They die in his throat as he tries to recall a single apology he had practiced all day and comes up empty. “I’m just- I just wanted—look, I’m sorry I took your first kiss!”

It’s not exactly what he means to say, but Steve certainly is sorry for it. Eddie’s expression wavers, some anger slipping away. Confusion takes its place.

“What?” Eddie says with a tone of bafflement. “What are you talking about?”

“And I’m sorry I kept… kept asking for more.” Steve continues on, pulling on the thread inside him, connected to the terrible stone he swallowed earlier. He tugs it. Hopes pulling it will unravel the guilt sitting heavy in his stomach.

Steve scrunches his eyes shut and rubs the bridge of his nose. “I know, okay? I know that I can be a lot.” He sighs and drops his hands.

“But I didn’t mean to… shit,” He wrenches his eyes open. Eddie’s a bit wide-eyed now, brown eyes watching him intently. Steve doesn’t know what expression he’s wearing, can’t tell if it’s good or worse. He continues, soft words scraping out his throat.

“I didn’t mean to be like that with you.”

Eddie searches Steve’s face, eyes darting and wild. He licks his lips. His hands are in motion, fingers twisting rings, quick and fast. It’s a nervous action.

“What do you mean by ‘like that?’” Eddie asks, voice gentler. It's lost its snarl from before.

Steve blinks, a scrape of teeth worrying his bottom lip. He murmurs his admittance lowly, just one word, “Selfish.”

Eddie doesn’t try to hide his surprise; it ripples across his face in a wave. Confusion melts away into something closer to, Steve hopes desperately, relief. Steve can feel his own heart thudding hard inside his chest — can feel the beat it skips when Eddie steps closer.

“Steve?” Eddie says, sounding unlike himself. Steve’s never heard his voice that small. He nods, wordlessly. Eddie searches his face once more — wide brown eyes scanning and devouring. Steve can’t help but do the same.

He drinks in the details of Eddie’s face; the soft scruff along his top lip, the darkness of his lashes and the way they kiss in the corner that Steve adores. The pink of his lips. The familiar ache to kiss Eddie surges up within him, still as violent and strong as it had been the night before.

Steve should really stop looking at Eddie’s lips. He’s supposed to be apologising. He drags his eyes up and meets Eddie’s gaze full-on, prepared for whatever he might say. Except, he’s not expecting him at all to say;

“Can I... try this again?” It comes out a ragged breath, Eddie's scared eyes conveying the weight behind his words.

And this time Steve doesn't even need to ask what because he knows. Because Eddie's hands are reaching up and holding either side of Steve's face so gently. Steve can't recall a time he's ever been held so softly. His own hands come up slowly, draping around Eddie's wrists to hold them, to keep them there.

Eddie's thumb traces. It draws a sweet line of that familiar fire beneath Steve's skin along til it's settled on Steve's bottom lip, resting. The blood under Eddie's thumb thrums, gloriously warm, aching with want. Yes. Steve thinks. Yes, yes, yes.

"Yes, please." Steve breathes, so sincere the words comes out as a kiss against Eddie's thumb.

So, Eddie kisses him.

now with a part four !

tags below! sry if i tagged u and u didn't want it just tagging everyone who replied <3 @they-reap-what-we-sow @impeachy @anaibis @resident-gay-bitch @ediewentmissing @newtstabber @original-cypher @invisibleflame812 @hunterbow04 @leather-and-freckles @dracoswifeandlokispet @foolofentirelytoomanyfandoms @lfaewrites @sundead @call-me-big-eyes @the-redthread @goblinmanifesto @etaka @bishopextractions @ketterfuck @persephone13 @beckkthewreck @maya-custodios-dionach @autumnal-dawn @yourstrulyjoko @gleefully-macabre @princess-eddie @savory-babby

[dizzybizz]

sleepy gill and gill with the bubbled evil cat

[phoenixkaptain]

Okay. I’ll write an actual analysis.

A Lonely Place of Dying does a few things, storytelling-wise, that are actually incredibly impressive. Like, I figured it out and I was so excited.

First, we don’t see Tim. Not in part 1. All we see is glimpses. His hands as he puts away his camera. His feet as he runs away from Starfire’s apartment. We only see small parts of him, leaving him shrouded in mystery, which leads into part 2, where he’s represented by a shadowy figure on the cover.

The Titans, but especially Starfire, are all worried about the small child looking for Nightwing. This kid knows Nightwing’s name, knows where he lives, nd has a very conspicuous camera. I’d be worried too! So of course, from the Titans perspective, he’s an intimidating opponent that they don’t understand. (Especially since I’m like ninety percent sure Tim isn’t actually the one they’re looking for. Like, I think it was just a happy coincidence that the most suspicious child on the face of the planet happened to show up at the same time as the actual problem.)

We don’t see Tim’s face until just under halfway through part 2. And the first thing they show us are his eyes. He’s searching for Dick, even among all the pandemonium, and it’s only upon him finding Dick that we see his whole face.

Tim’s eyes are important. They’re an important part of his character in this storyline. Because Tim sees things. He sees through Bruce, he sees through Dick, he sees through Alfred even. He’s always looking.

And this is compounded when he explains how he knows what he knows in part 3.

We see child Tim Drake at the circus. Tim says this to Dick “…I kept staring at you…” and this “I remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

On the next page, he says, about Dick’s parents’ deaths, “I turned away… I couldn’t watch. Then I heard you crying and I turned back and I saw you holding onto them, and I began crying, too.”

Page 11 has his monologue about seeing Batman for the first time, and how he thought Batman would hurt Dick, but what’s important isn’t the dialogue, it’s the panels. They focus on the realization of Batman being safe, entirely through Tim’s eyes. He’s panicked and scared, then slowly relaxes. We see it all, because Tim sees it all.

And it’s THIS. Tim started the story by finding Batman, but he starts his story by beginning to look for Dick. Us seeing Tim seeing Dick is a direct parallel to us seeing Tim seeing Batman with Dick. Tim’s story starts by him staring at Dick, unable to look away. And when we see him for the first time, he’s looking at him again, still unable to look away.

Throughout the story, Tim is constantly looking at Dick. Yes, this is mostly because he’s talking to Dick, but even at the end of part 2, when Dick is being congratulated by Haly’s Circus members and isn’t paying attention to Tim at all, Tim is still watching him.

Why is there so much emphasis on his eyes? I’m so glad you asked- IT’S VISUAL STORYTELLING BABEYYYY.

Tim’s most important role in A Lonely Place of Dying is as a third party. He cares about Bruce and Dick, and he knows them a lot better than they might think, but he’s still a third party to them. They don’t know him. He’s someone who’s been looking in on their lives for ten years.

He’s. A. Voyeur.

The emphasis being placed on his eyes cements this. Dick, Alfred, and Bruce are all put off by him at first. He knows too much, he doesn’t offer much information on himself until he’s forced to, it’s almost uncomfortable how much of a stalker this thirteen-year-old manages to be. He’s a voyeur, watching their lives, unnoticed by any of them, and that’s a bit unnerving! I don’t blame Dick for being unsettled by him, he’s weird!

And, his eyes as a child watching Dick to his eyes as a preteen finding Dick. They’re connected. A perfectly linear story, just told backwards. It’s really very satisfying.

Now, point two. The question we all have. Is Tim a stalker?

Short answer: yes.

Long answer: yes, but I’ll explain.

Tim begins the story by taking pictures of Batman fighting Ravager. The narration mentions someone calling in a tip to Gordon about Ravager’s location, which is what led Batman to this point, and I’m on the fence over whether or not Tim was the one who called in. On one hand, it would make a lot of sense. Ravager is part of a bigger ploy by Two-Face, and we find out in part 2 that Tim knows Two-Face is behind the trouble. It would also explain how Tim found a spot to set up his camera for a good portion of the fight. And, it isn’t like Tim wouldn’t know Gordon’s phone number. On the other hand, it’s never explicitly stated who called Gordon, so assume what you will.

Part 1 actually shows us a glimpse of Tim’s collection of photographs. It’s huge. Most of them are obviously newspaper clippings, but a few are just pictures (I assume on photo paper because the edges are cleaner than the newspaper photos). Tim says, in part 3 “You know, since I was able to read, I clipped every article on Batman and Robin.” We admittedly don’t know when Tim learned to read, but he’s thirteen and says he gets mostly A’s, so I’m assuming he probably learned in preschool or kindergarten, around the age of 3-5. That’s a lot of newpaper clippings. We only see his more recent and his most stalkery ones, so who knows how many more he has?

There are only a few points in the story where we see that Tim is genuinely emotional about anything. For the most part, he is calm. He smiles a lot. He doesn’t use a lot of exclamation marks. The only times he does use exclamation marks are when he’s monologuing (internally or externally) about how great Dick is or when he’s trying to make a point. The only time we see him get visibly distressed is when Dick ignores him about Batman needing a Robin.

I don’t know how to stress upon you that Tim only cries that one time. Tim almost dies three times in this comic. He went to his second circus and another person died. His idols both berate him and talk down to him (although Dick stops right after they meet with Bruce. I’m going to be honest, I think Dick wants Bruce to take Tim on as Robin because if Dick had to deal with Tim for a whole day, so does Bruce). He has to recount watching Dick’s parents die and the nightmares he got from it.

He went through so much. But, the only time he’s upset is when Dick won’t listen to him about what’s best for Batman.

Anyway, Tim flat out just says a lot of really stalker-y shit, so I’ll just list some more:

We already know about him clipping newspapers since he could read

When he’s asking Kory where Nightwing is, he lets slip to her that he was watching Titans Tower with this line “I know he wasn’t at your meeting today.”

There’s also a few lines from breaking and entering Dick’s apartment “Grayson kept his old apartment. If he left the Titans, he might be here.” “He’s a detective… he must keep notes. Even something scribbled on a shopping list.” “No! The Haly Circus is closing? It can’t be! It can’t! But at least I now know where he is!” (Why is the shopping list thing stalkery Kacie, I’m so glad you asked. Tim knows Dick well enough that he knows Dick writes things down. Bruce certainly doesn’t, and Bruce is also a detective, so it’s a logical leap unless Tim knows Dick is inclined to write things down.)

There’s one part that isn’t stalkery so much as really funny to me. While Tim is looking for Dick at the circus, he realizes that Dick is “a master of disguise” and that “I’ve been looking for Dick Grayson, but he could be anyone.” only to almost immediately after say “No, not the roustabouts. They’re too tall.” First, that means he can’t “be anyone.” Second, he knows Dick’s height just. So well.

Tim realizes who Dick is and I think I’ll just tell you what he said to explain how he figured it out “Th-that jump- - -that’s him! It’s got to be Dick!” What was so special about Dick’s jump? I don’t think there was anything special, I think Tim is just weird.

Dick asks Tim who he is no less than three separate times. Tim refuses to tell him, all three times. At the beginning of part 3, while Dick is introducing Tim to Alfred, Dick says “Alfred, this may be a bit awkward, but I’d like you to meet- - - -what did you say your name was again?” Implying that Tim did tell Dick, but only briefly.

Back in part 2, Tim says this to Dick “Look, I know you’re Nightwing. You used to be Robin. Then Jason Todd became Robin, and when he died, Bruce Wayne went to pieces.” Tim says this before telling Dick his name by the way.

Tim, upon being introduced to Alfred (a cont. of the earlier Dick line) “Tim. Mr. Pennyworth- - gosh I was really hoping we’d meet. I know you’re Batman’s confidant, and I’ve dreamed about the stories you could tell.”

Alfred’s response to this is “I am- - what did you say?” Which is very funny.

Some more stalker lines that come from Tim looking around the manor: “I’ve seen pictures of this place,” “There’s the renoir Mr. Wayne bought last year. I read about that in Art World Today.”, “He’s got an erte? Oh, I love his stuff.”, “Please, can I see the rest of the house?”

There’s this, which a part of was mentioned earlier “I don’t remember the clowns or the animals, or anything else. I just remember waiting for you to go on. And then, when you did, I just sat there and watched.”

Tim says, before explaining anything, “Okay, you won’t take me seriously until I tell you everything. Dick, I don’t want this to hurt you. And I’m really afraid it might.” He then says, “I’m sorry, Dick. I really am. I told you I didn’t want to hurt you by telling you all this.” Tim is right, Dick is hurt. Tim is a stalker, but he’s a conscientious stalker.

There’s this “That image of you doing your somersault- - - -it stayed with me for years. I couldn’t get it out of my mind.” “I knew that somersault. I knew it like I knew my own name.”

This is just the beginning of a sentence, but it still is very stalkery “When you moved to New York to become Nightwing…”

Or how about “…Batman and Robin have meant everything to me. I’ve followed them both… I know them so well. I knew when Dick left to become Nightwing. I knew when Jason came and became Robin… and I knew when Jason died.”

Tim mentions offhandedly that he managed at some point to slip a tracking device on Two-Face. An impressive feat, considering Two-Face was trying to hit him with a crowbar and Tim only came into contact with him twice, either to punch him in the face or push him away from attacking Alfred. I doubt he slipped it on him while punching him, but his ability to stay calm under pressure even while acting panicky, managing to smoothly slide a tracking device onto Two-Face that Two-Face never realizes is there, is very impressive. Or, it’s practiced-

Bruce says “I don’t want a partner. It’s as simple as that.”

Tim responds “After all you’ve been through, I understand.”

So you may be wondering, with all of this overwhelming evidence and the fact that he knows where both Kory and Dick live and the fact that he already knew Alfred Pennyworth was Batman’s confidant and all of the weird, supervillain-esque shit he says, why does anyone like him?

And I’ll tell you why. It’s because he’s so fucking awkward.

Tim says things like “oh thank goodness” or “gosh” or “it’s still been wonderful.” Tim stutters talking to Batman. Tim fanboys over Dick and Bruce constantly. He isn’t even upset to have gotten a mystery wrong, he’s just happy he got to see Dick solve a case.

But also, Tim is right. Batman is acting recklessly, and it’s directly as a result of Jason dying. Tim says he needs Robin, not Nightwing, but I think what he means is more the role that they fill. Robin is little and Bruce can tuck him under his wing and keep him safe. Nightwing is an adult who argues with him and is a good leader in his own right, leading to more arguments. Robin is someone Batman has to take notice of, has to account for when making plans. Nightwing can keep up, and he isn’t as worried about Nightwing because he trusts Nightwing’s ability to stay alive. They fill very different roles, and that’s what Tim means, even if he has trouble saying it.

And he’s completely right. Batman without Robin runs recklessly into a building without scoping it out, tries to save two boys tied with active grenades by himself, walks into a room full of mobsters with guns without having any protection himself. Tim implies that he’s worried Bruce might die, and he’s right to be worried.

But even with Nightwing there, Batman only worries when things go wrong. He doesn’t see Dick as his scrappy little sidekick anymore, he sees him as an adult. And it’s only when Dick’s in trouble that Bruce reverts to treating him like a child.

Robin makes Batman stop and think before they go in. Robin makes Batman patient. Because Bruce cares about Dick and Jason, and he comes to care about Tim too.

Tim wins him over by being clever, but later comics show that they have to build trust in each other. Tim trusts Bruce completely, right off the bat, and that’s overwhelming for Bruce. But Bruce stops being overwhelmed and starts feeling fond.

Because despite everything I said, Tim is a good person. He’s so worried about Bruce that he’s willing to search everywhere to find Dick to try and help him. He’s so worried about Bruce that he spends his vacation week slumming around on his bicycle trying to save Bruce’s life. He dives down a coal chute without a second thought, and he pushes with all his might to unbury Batman and Nightwing. He cares about them, and it’s painfully obvious that he does.

Tim doesn’t want to be Robin. Like, okay, he would love to be Robin, but that’s not why he’s here. He doesn’t want to tell Dick his first name, and it’s only after seeing that Dick isn’t taking him seriously that he spills the beans. He didn’t want to tell Dick, because that would hurt Dick. He says “B-Batman, it’s hard for me to say this to you” because he’s about to tell Bruce off for being reckless and he doesn’t want to. Tim wants to know that Bruce and Dick are safe, and that’s the only thing he wants.

Yes, Tim is definitely a stalker. He literally said himself that he followed them, and even if it was only through newspapers, it still counts as following. Now, maybe he doesn’t fit this dictionary definition of a stalker: “a person who harasses or persecutes someone with unwanted and obsessive attention,” but I think he does fit this dictionary definition: “a person who hunts prey stealthily.” Tim is stealthy and quick.

I read an article that said his weakness was unexpected situations, but I would argue that that’s bullshit. Tim is great in unexpected situations. Did he expect Two-Face to start trying to beat him with a crowbar? No, but he managed to avoid being hit and plant a tracker on him. Did he expect Two-Face to crush the Batmobile he’s sitting in with a wrecking ball? No, but he managed to jump out and hide and tried to warn Batman and Nightwing to watch out. Did he expect Bruce to agree to let him train to be Robin? No, but he’s going to do the best he can now that he has the chance.

From the very beginning, we can see that Tim is someone with an answer to just about everything. He knows things, he notices things, and he’s good at reacting. Later comics don’t dispute this, that I know of. Tim is the Robin with multiple contingencies for his contingencies, but he’s also the Robin who is most likely to say “oh shit I did not see that coming.” He’s a surprised sometimes, yes, but that doesn’t mean he’s unprepared.

All in all, Tim Drake is a fascinating character study of a rich kid who talks like an elderly woman providing therapy for a man who is at least two, if not three, decades his senior. Tim doesn’t quite understand at any point that monitoring isn’t the same thing as showing affection, which is why he and Bruce get along swimmingly and why Tim is often slated to be the Robin most alike to Batman.

Congratulations, Tim.

Also, I really truly believe that Tim had his first crush on Dick, which is why he couldn’t stop staring at him. And I didn’t mention he said this, because it wasn’t important to the points I was making, but it’s important to this one. Tim says “…I kept staring at you, and your circus costume.” The circus costume being similar to Robin’s is never brought up, only the fact fact that Tim couldn’t stop staring at it. I’m telling you, his first crush was here, it’s so obvious, just look at my corkboar-

[todayisafridaynight]

[thresholdbb]

Me: Why is there a weird light in my room?

[80s-music-tourney]

No propaganda received for both songs

[chibifox2002]

Do you think that knack’s eyes goes to “slit mode” when he gets really angry , like a feral animal getting ready to attack its prey?

If so then those goblins better watch out…

Oh absolutely.

Creature coded af

(also omg I actually tried draw knack normally not click bait)

[if-loki-was-a-fox]

Hello! I know this is a super late response so no worries if the offer's not still on the table, but I've love a cbeeduo doodle as my vote reward if you're up to it :)

Yeah no problem ^^ I enjoy doing these doodle request anyways so here ya go! BeeDuo!

[cellsshapedlikestars]

While trying to find a place to put my Nancy Drew collection, I paged through them all, and here's my favorite inscriptions:

[eggsdrawings]

i bring a sort of Start A New Wip vibe to the workplace that my Hasn’t Finished My Other Wips don’t really like

[todayisafridaynight]

whatever //blasts your old man with the butch beam//

[blood-inthefields]

Chapters: 11/? Fandom: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types, The Witcher (TV) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tissaia de Vries/Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Characters: Tissaia de Vries, Yennefer z Vengerbergu | Yennefer of Vengerberg Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, Architect!Tissaia, Painter!Tissaia, Gondolier!Yennefer, mostly set in Italy, Tissaia is horny, but to be fair Yen is fucking hot in this one, also Yen is horny because Tissaia soooo yeah Summary:

Freshly divorced, British architect Tissaia de Vries embarks on a journey to Italy where she finds herself caught in a whirlwind romance with a beautiful and enigmatic young gondolier.

CHAPTER 11 IS UP

[nerosdayinanime]

cant stop thinking of sabito-mitsuri interactions

[faebriel]

Super Niki au my absolute beloved.. the more information I get the more crazy I get

(hi sorry this sat in the inbox for like two months anon for some reason i was hoping something more substantial would appear out of thin air. it didn't btw.) regardless of that! fuck yeah anon i'm with you on that

i think a superhero niki story would have to have a real focus on the mundane. like the nitty gritty details of "how do you conceal your identity from people in your superhero costume?" "how do you fit patrols into your week? you can't possibly do them every day." all that! again i think this comes back to me being really attached to the 'everyman' side of c!niki it makes me want to imbue that feeling into everything i write with her. in this au i think she does work at a bakery (good for her) but when the shit starts to hit the fan she disengages from her job, stops taking on the extra duties she usually does at work, stops caring, eventually stops showing up. etc. this is probably related to how she ends up crashing with fundy and hbomb after The Puffychu Divorce (superniki edition)

here are a few other miscellaneous thoughts i've been having:

i've been having more of a think about emerald duo in this au, and i think i know how i picture them being. so phil is wilbur's dad, techno is phil's friend, techno and wilbur define their relationship in vastly different ways, etc etc the standard. oh but they're both supervillains. not for any particular reason they kind of liked mucking around causing mayhem first and then came up with an ideology later. anyway phil's retired and techno Would Like to be retired but he's still looped into the job due to Shenanigans (blood god related mb?). wilbur is fully aware of this and goes to him to be like 🥺 help i need ideas when he decides to go supervillain mode

oh! and wilbur's alter ego name is chekhov ^-^

and so the syndicate in this au is......................... a book club. yes for real

okay look i was thinking about what to do with the syndicate and i didn't really want to have them end up as a Bad Ass Villain Posse because i think niki needs to retire or at least be a superperson part time after everything that happens. so instead, she ends up meeting phil and techno and they help her ease into super semi-retirement ^-^ and ofc phil and techno appreciate having another friend who Gets It around. they are literally just like a book club and a mild support group in this au in a very silly way and i like it

i've spoken a bit about fundy and hbomb in this au... yeah niki lives with them after breaking up with puffy. not 100% sure where jack fits in. maybe he's another low ish level vigilante running around and tries to ally with niki? i can't imagine any allegiances she makes in that mental state (without the history she and jack had as l'manbergians in canon) would last very long. maybe she sees a bit of herself in him. they both call each other out for being emotionally immature idiots and then go and do the exact same thing themself. hypocrites

oh and i think i've mentioned niki making her own costume before!! i imagine as a fire based superhero she buys PPE (like from a tradie joint) and modifies it to be 1. functional and 2. fashionable. this does in fact mean that hi-vis yellow + orange are her colours in this au....

and below the cut is a treat: a snippet i wrote of a scene where after a big fight, wilbur finds himself patching up his wounds in the same safety stash as this city's very own friendly neighbourhood superhero (who wants to beat his ass)......

“Why do you hate me?”

The stubborn rasp in his voice surprises even him. As for the woman on the other side of the room, her shoulders draw tight - like a wild animal arching its back, a show of anger. The question, then – should Wilbur interpret such a motion as defensiveness, or as a threat? “What makes you say that?” she asks. Her voice runs high with the question – a quiet sound, like a flute's soft alto, though it rasps slightly through the sound of a voice changer. Idly, Wilbur wonders whether it is worth asking where she got it. Or how she fashioned it, perhaps. God knows he needs one. Chekhov might manage perfectly fine in the midst of faceless reporters and supervillains – the proper kind – who haven't seen the light of city streets in years, but if Wilbur were to cross paths with someone he knew as himself (god forbid, someone like Tommy) his voice would give him away quick as anything.  (His heart aches, briefly, when he thinks of his brother.) Part of him tries to unpick what her voice would sound like without it. It’s difficult not to fixate on these small things – perhaps because the bigger things provide him with so little in comparison. Her voice is quiet, a little difficult to pick the sounds apart around the staticky rumble of the voice changer, but far from timid. There’s a stubborn timbre to it. (Something in it is familiar. But that thought is patently ridiculous, and Wilbur is impatient, and so it is dismissed.)

[scene continues]

"Am I," Wilbur pauses, wets his lips – it almost feels as if the fire is still flickering beneath his skin, energising and scorching all at once. "Am I that horrible? Is there something – do you see something so inherently terrible in me that you just have to strike it down? Is that it?" Her powder-keg silence sparks, ignites, her scowl a torn-open slash even beneath the planes of her mask, embroiled in sudden fury. "Don't flatter yourself - "  "Ah, and there it is!" To her credit, she doesn't stagger back as he lights up – if anything, her affect is unimpressed. "Show us the blaze, firebug! What – what drives you? What lights your fuse?" "Do you even know what you are?" she retorts. Oh, she's caught on the hook, now. "You know what you are?" What is Wilbur expecting? Proud, arrogant perhaps – delusional wouldn't be anything new, or any of the crueler words from that stock. Wouldn't be the first time he'd been called some variety of son of a bitch bastard, either. Who is he, to this spectre of flame? He's asking honestly, though he doubts she believes in his integrity. "You're a liar," she continues, words stubborn and fierce and almost unwieldy. "You – you are so selfish, and so cruel – you take, and you take and you take and you don't think for a second of the people you're taking from. You don't think anything of them. You're a liar," and when she repeats these words, they sound like smoke – "and you know what? I hate liars. I hate them." The words sink into him like stones. How does she know? he asks himself. How does she know? He doesn't ask her that. Knowing his patience, he'd be lucky for an answer, anyway - instead he just suggests, "you speak like you're familiar on the subject, then?" If it's even possible, her scowl drives itself deeper into her face - like tyre tracks driven into mud, an ugly slash of drawn brows and what he can only assume is teeth bared behind that voice changer of hers. She looks at him like he isn't worth a single thing on this earth. "Yeah, well," she spits. "I've had my fair share, with bastards like you."