Dick Grayson Trash

Galas Can be a Real Drag (Part Two)

-Big thank you to @murdermoostunladylike and @WallyandDick for both requesting a sequel :)-

Roy nudged The others, gaging their attention. His eyes, under their incredibly think lashes, darted  into the corner, there were three women there talking there. He could tell from a mile away that they're bigots. "Up oh, Hetros at 2 'o' clock." He hissed. 

They looked to the side, and saw the three. Unfortunately, the women looked at them too. "What are those?" one of them sneered to the others, probably thinking the teens didn't see.

"US?" Wally asked loudly, over the crowds.

"Oh god." One of them turned away, hissing to her companions. "I think they're male."

"I am." Artemis scoffed, sweeping across her fringe (of the hair she tucked under her hat), and generally killing her drag king look. She rocked a button up, a green waistcoat and bow tie, and, more informally, tight black skinny jeans.

The three woman looked appalled, which seemed like an overreaction, since they all of passed relatively well. If it weren't for the massive makeup and flamboyant outfits, they probably could've gone the evening completely unrecognized. 

"No way they were let in here like that." One of the middle-aged women commented, disgusted. "Someone needs to tell Bruce Wayne!"

"Tough luck, Bitch, he already knows." The speedster answered. Wally had kept with his iconic colour scheme, long crimson wig, an almost 1960s styled skirt, stable heels (for the convenience of running), and chucky (fake) gold jewelry. It was a look.

"Exactly, we were told to dress formal, and this dress is worth more than your house." Dick flexed. To be fair, it was a nice dress: short-ish, dark blue, and fluffy, with lots of room to kick his legs. His dress was actually eight bucks from value village, but she didn't need to know that. Also, his heels were from there too, they were covered in silver sequins, and his stockings had glitter sewn into them.

"Tea. Y'all have so much money, and all your looks are BORING. You're forgettable!" Roy scoffed. He'd opted for a red velvet pantsuit, unlike the other two queens. Being eighteen, he'd gone for black, rhinestone stilettos. Seriously, they were sky high! Like, nine inches, and a heel so sharp it could stab a man. The heels, plus his already existing height made him tower over the bigoted middle-aged women who were judging them.

"Okay, this is disgusting." one of the woman choked. "This is supposed to be about class, and charity-"

"Bitch, it's a charity for you to be here." Dick snapped.

"What I don't understand is why faggots always need to shove their sexuality in our faces?" One woman whined.

"Bitch, you can hold you husband's hand without getting jumped!" Roy exclaimed. 

"Also, FUCK YOU." Artemis shouted, ready to throw hands. 

Dick nodded. "you can't pull out the full cigarette slur, this is a safe space!" Dick stomped his heel.

One of the women pulled someone over. "These  aren't supposed to be here, I think they broke in. You need to go and tell Bruce Wayne, like, now."

 It accrued to Dick that they didn't recognize him as Bruce's ward. maybe that was for the better, but it meant they wouldn't listen to his very genuine threats to have them thrown out. "Honey, try me, I dare you." Dick was trying not to swear, because Bruce said he couldn't swear at guests. 

"Yes!" Wally agreed. "Because you don't seem to realize that we are a million times hotter, younger, and confident then you three hoes are!" He and Dick high-fived without looking at each other.