an older man just gave me an “atta girl”
ok sir

#dc comics#dc#batman#bruce wayne#batfam#dick grayson#tim drake#batfamily#dc fanart



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an older man just gave me an “atta girl”
ok sir
@bittenichtstoren
He’d kept the sleeve with the girl’s number, despite his better judgment - folded it into his pocket when he threw away the coffee cup. Still, he didn’t call. What would he say? Eli’s not modest enough to think such a thing could never be legitimate - he cuts a good figure in his suits, he carries himself well, and there’s something of his more self-assured youth that remains in his eyes. But he’s been through it, relationship-wise, so there’s also a hesitance.
He’d be lying if he said she wasn’t pretty. That makes this difficult.
It’s almost a week later when he finds his way back to the coffee shop. Is he looking for her? No, not really, maybe. He’s in the area. For some reason, he’s more comfortable with hanging around than actually keying in that number on the piece of flimsy cardboard.
Sitting in the corner by the window - rare for him, to actually pause to eat or drink or exist - he orders a large americano, because he can stay there and nurse it while waiting. Waiting, because the flirty barista isn’t at the counter. Eli might have just left - but no, he lingers, just in case. Why, exactly? He isn’t sure. He can’t ask for her by name, as he doesn’t know it. Besides, they’d probably think she was his uncle, or whatever.
Halfway down the cup, his phone rings, and it’s a call he has to take. Unfortunately, it isn’t a good one, either.
“...What?! Jesus. No, no, no... wait, slow down. You’re not helping me. Where is Lisa? Can you--- oh, great, well... of course she is. No, listen. Listen!” His mood has rapidly run along to exasperation. He sighs - huffs, even, shutting his eyes briefly for personal clarity.
“---Calm down. No, do not talk. To anyone. Anyone! I’ll come to the office in half an hour. Oh, and tell Lisa to get back.”
He hangs up, just in time for a shadow to fall across his table.
I keep wanting to shittalk someone’s art with someone who would understand, but I don’t have very many people who would understand, and then when I think about it I think about that swearin song where she says i don’t know about art but i think your music’s shit, which I STILL hate. I would like to insulate myself eternally from women saying “I don’t know about art”
Bunnies for you my silly billy spoingle boingle babygirl :3
YIPPIES :D !! the creatures ever . . . thabk uu my silly skrunleywunkly scrimblo . . . blorbo ?? <- got confused halfway thru