#like he is so annoyed dealing with them every day but when Supes is trying to put him in his place THEN he starts goading and bantering

[emma-d-klutz]

Batman choking out one of his rogues: Stop talking. Please.

Batman getting choked by Superman: Haha do it, tough guy. Go on, Clark, do it. I want you to. I want you to. Can you actually? I know you can’t. Prove me wrong. 

[getvalentined]

@takenbynumbers: tseng for the ask game - 13, 24, 35, 44. :)

[For the Random Character Asks game.]

13. Dumbest thing they’ve ever done?

Canonically? Probably that time he messed up that mission with Veld and almost got them both killed. (The one that leads to one of my favorite lines from Veld, which basically translates to "...They say that subordinates are a lot like their superiors, so maybe I'm still naive, too.")

Headcanon? When Tseng was about seventeen he once accidentally stole one of Veld's extremely expensive pens after a group meeting, didn't realize it until two days later when he found it in his desk drawer, and proceeded to spend the next week trying to sneak it back into Veld's desk instead of just telling him that he'd accidentally walked away with it.

After a series of failed attempts that landed three colleagues in trouble (all of whom insisted that they would willingly sacrifice themselves to keep Tseng out of trouble because Turks are and have always been ride-or-die, even in exceptionally ridiculous situations), the incident was resolved when Reno finally just took the pen from Tseng, slipped it into his pocket, and walked into the armory.

A few seconds later he walked back out, holding up the pen like a lighter at a concert. "Hey, Chief! Isn't this like your sixth-favorite 'I'm a rich bastard' pen? I don't think it goes in the materia locker."

As it turned out, Veld had been so busy over the past week and a half that he hadn't even noticed it was missing. He thanked Reno, theorizing that he'd accidentally carried it in there himself when getting kitted out for a field assignment, and just accidentally left it in the locker.

(This event may be why Reno was given the vice director position upon Tseng's promotion within the department, but neither of them will confirm or deny the possibility.)

(Also I know the Ultimania says that Reno is 25 during the Crisis but that makes absolutely no sense with the timeline of the Compilation so I reject this as soundly as I reject Sephiroth being born in 1980.)

24. Most annoying habit?

For simple habits, like tics, Tseng tends to use fountain pens not because of any preference of his own, but because he will fidget with click pens or snap the lid on and off capped pens over and over and over until everyone around him wants to strangle him alive. Veld got him into fountain pens so that he'd stop doing that during mission briefs and meetings.

For more complex issues, as indicated in the story above, Tseng is horribly indirect in social situations. This is doubly true when he thinks someone else has a problem with him, which leads to him asking questions of mutual acquaintances, making observations and constructing timelines to try to figure out whether he or the other party is in the wrong, and overthinking every previous interaction he can think of instead of just asking the other person what's going on.

This is less annoying for the people who don't realize it's happening, but for everyone else there's a lot of "Just ask him. Oh my god. Just ask him what's wrong! Tseng you are THIRTY-EIGHT YEARS OLD just ASK HIM if he's mad at you!"

35. Their idea of a perfect day?

Even with alarms off, Tseng wakes up a little after sunrise, even on the weekend. He rolls over, slings his arm over Reeve in bed and stays there until Reeve wakes up about an hour later. They get up, Reeve checks his phone—Tseng takes it from him, because they're off work today. He goes through Reeve's notifications, snoozes all of them for 48 hours, then gives him back his phone.

Reeve makes coffee while Tseng makes sure Cait Sith is set on assignments for the day, and then both and and Reeve see him off for the day. Cait Sith won't connect directly with Reeve except in an emergency, and Tseng isn't worried about that; he can take care of himself, and things are quiet these days anyway. The biggest problems they have to deal with these days are ordinary people with legal agreements, not overpowered superhumans with lethal aggression.

Tseng gets dressed before Reeve, because Reeve likes to shower first thing in the morning and Tseng likes to shower before he goes to bed. He makes breakfast while Reeve is washing up, and gets a call from Reno that he's letting Elena off early today because she has a date. It'll mean they're running a little skinny through the weekend, but the mission board is almost empty so he's not pressed about it. Tseng says that's all right, he trusts Reno's judgment, and he'll talk to him on Monday.

He pages through the worst gossip rag in Junon while Reeve eats breakfast, periodically turning the magazine around to ask if Reeve thinks a particular photo of this or that public figure was taken by Kunsel. Reeve agrees with him every time, except for the one of Vincent, and they both admit that Kunsel is too scared of Vincent to have done that. They spend some time theorizing who would have taken the chance, going well past the point that breakfast is done, but don't reach a consensus before an alarm goes off and it's time to head out.

Up on the roof of the WRO's executive housing facility, Tseng and Reeve load up one of the organization's aircars—like an airship, but stripped down to the smallest versions of the barest essentials until it's not quite the length of a travel trailer—and spend the next few hours in the sky. The autopilot gives Tseng some time to read, although it always makes Reeve anxious. This is funny, singe Reeve helped develop the aircar in the first place, so he knows there's no risk of them going down just because Tseng took his eyes off the instruments for a few minutes, and Tseng teases him about it until Reeve begrudgingly concedes.

They touch down in Costa, but not on the landing pad—not even properly in town, instead settling just past the cliffs that divide the commercial, public beaches with the less-accessible stretch of shoreline to the north. Reeve unloads the aircar and Tseng sets up, propping up an umbrella, unfolding chairs and draping them in towels, situating the cooler and pulling out one of those cheap premade smoothies-in-a-pouch for lunch. He gets changed while Reeve has his own lunch, and they spend the rest of the day at the beach; around sunset they get back in the car (leaving all those things they brought on the sand, no one can get here except from the air and everything is replaceable anyway) to head into town, where they get dinner from a food truck on the side of the road as they walk from the landing pad to the hotel where they'll spend the night.

Tomorrow afternoon, they'll head home. But for a little over 24 hours, there's nothing but sunshine and sand and water, ice melting in a plastic cooler, slightly-uncomfortable folding chairs and sand-crusted towels. No work, no responsibilities, no crises to avert.

And when Tseng goes back to work on Monday, he'll remember exactly why that work is worth doing, which feels pretty perfect to him.

44. Their happiest memory?

I would say that Tseng doesn't have a lot of happy memories, but that's not really it. The thing is that for Tseng, happiness is a fleeting, finite thing; contentment is possible eventually, but happiness is different, happiness is deeper, and it isn't until after the world has come to and end multiple times that he finds it in a more permanent sense. Before that, his happiest memories are...not what most people would consider pleasant? But they're happy nonetheless.

Pinned under rubble when he was too young and too naive to know when to give up, sure that he was going to die, and then having Veld show up to save him after insisting over and over that he wouldn't.

Security footage taken from Kalm, seeing Aerith under a blue sky for the first time and knowing that it was where she was meant to be, that she was finally getting to see the world that belonged to her.

Sitting in the forest outside the Forgotten Capital, bruised and bleeding after days of torture at the hands of the Remnants, watching Vincent work on treating Elena's injuries—first, before Tseng, because she was unconscious and he wasn't—and eventually turn to Tseng and declare without a hint of uncertainty that she would pull through.

If asked, Tseng would say that he has a lot of happy memories. Nobody else would think they're happy at all.

[backonmybullshit91]

‘ i don’t often like to get my hands dirty… but seeing you like this makes it worth it. ’ // butcher

Fuck, he knew he was in bad shape. He had been trying to get somewhere he could get a little bit of help. Billy had not been having a good day. When was the last time he had a good day? What was the last supe he had gotten? That was the last time he had a good day, he was sure. Right now, it didn’t look like he was going to be anywhere near as lucky. He had gotten away, or at least he was thinking he did anyway. He had from the first one anyway. It was supposed to be an easy goddamn mission. But some how he got the wrong information. Now he was having to patch himself up. It was days like this, that he thought maybe he should stop. He was getting so fucking into this that he didn’t think there was anyway out of it. But every time a thought like that popped into his head something else made him realize that he couldn’t.

He was pissed and that kept him going most of the time. Which was why he was currently sitting in a darkly lit parking lot sitting against the side of his car like he was expecting another gun fight just hoping for a chance to patch up his injuries first.

A familiar voice sounded near by having him roll his eyes. Of fucking course this prick was going to show his face at a moment like this. They just showed up for the worst time for the other person, didn’t they? Knowing it wasn’t going to do anything other than maybe make himself feel a little better, Billy picked up the gun he kept beside him in case he got found and fired a shot. If it hadn’t been who it was, he knew it would have killed them. Ah wouldn’t that have been nice. Hadn’t found a bullet that would have done that just yet.

“Evevin’ cunt.” He greeted as he lowered his weapon still in hand but there wasn’t much point to it at this point. “Don’t you have someone else to annoy?” He was trying not to show how much this shit was hurting him. He knew that Homelander was already going to be having a good time seeing him like this.

“Glad I can be amusin. Now do me a favor and piss off.” He turned to go back to trying to pretend the prick wasn’t probably enjoying watching him try to deal with his current bleeding injuries. Didn’t know what he had in mind but he didn’t think he was actually going to leave.

@homewanker

[valeskawhore]

Soulmate AU!

Featuring Homelander x Sm! Reader!

Plot: “In a world where two souls have an unbreakable bond linking both of their souls. But the only connection with one-another is through a red string tied to each’s ring fingers.”

He hates the string because he just finds it annoying. Why does it haft to glow all the fucking time?

Homelander believes the whole purpose behind this.. soulmate shit is wonderful! But having it constantly tied around his finger, tightening every so often is so. fucking. irritating.

Soulmates we’re rare anyways. Commonly more in supes than humans but there’s always that one percent.

Having everyone constantly stare and gawk your right hand all the time is creepy.

Not to mention the questions… don’t get him started on the questions!

“Have you met your soulmate yet?”

“What does the string feel like?”

“Can you take it off?”

“I bet I can undo that knot!”

“Are you still single?”

Nonononononono! Fuck off!

His business is his business! Everyone else needs to mind their own! It doesn’t matter if hasn’t found them yet! They exist! And the string is proof!!

Some nights, he’ll get really lonely and start pulling at the string. He’d wrap it around his finger and hold it tight to his chest as a reminder that your out there and one day hopefully…

You’ll be wrapped in his arms at his side where you belong.

He should’ve snipped the string a long time ago and ended the suspense but he just couldn’t! He’s thought about it so much it should be something he’s ashamed of right now.

What if he’s disappointed and dissatisfied with his soul mate? You’re gonna haft to be perfect in his eyes.

He’s the fucking Homelander! He deserves only the best!

Or Atleast that’s his first thoughts…

When he meets you tho, your everything he’d ever want and he didn’t even know it. You fit his every criteria and help him in so many more ways than one.

You’re the assistant of Stan Edgar.. whom is the ceo of vought so it’s kinda a big deal..

•~•~•~•~•~•~•

Stan loves you very dearly and he holds you very close to his heart. Rest assured, you’re under all kinds of protection.

Stan originally keeps you from Homelander at all costs. He does everything in his power to shield you away from that blue eyed devil and keep you with him.

But.. everything has to come out eventually..

You were on your way back from a doctors appointment when Stan had texted you to pick him up some coffee on the way to back.

You said- what the heck and stopped at a small cafe around the corner from vought. It was only 11 and still pretty earlier since your appointment ended sooner than you thought it would.

Because It was originally supposed to end around 12:30, that’s the time you and Stan had set for bowling but you decided to pick his coffee up anyways and make a beeline to vought so you could pick him up directly after his meeting.

Ashley stopped you in the door,

“Woah woah woah miss l/n, where do you think you’re going? Mr. Edgar isn’t done yet so-“

“Ashley we’ve been over the fact that I don’t give a fuck- and I- huh?” The string around your finger started to tighten and pull towards the door to the seven’s main room where Stan was.

Ashley panicked, still trying to shove you as far from the door as possible but fell in the process, spilling both her and Stan’s coffee all over herself. Now was your chance-

Homelander heard the commotion from outside the door and stood to answer it but Stan stopped him.

The string tightened.

“Homelander you fucking man-child, do not answer that door.”

No need, because you opened it from the other side anyways.

Bursting into the room and the first person you made eye contact with was shockingly… Homelander? What was he doing here—?

Wait… DUH… it’s VOUGHT— not like he works here or anything-

It didn’t matter because something felt as though it was pulling you towards him.. your eyes locked in place with each others and suddenly the commotion going on around the both of you— no longer mattered anymore in the moment.

You were lost in his soul and he was lost in yours.. the most he could do was mumble out about how you were his soulmate and how much he was captivated by your beauty.

He took you all in and you did the same.. is this really the man you were destined to be with?

He was head over heels for you already but you couldn’t help but rethink everything you had ever been taught about your soulmate.

Second thoughts— second thoughts— second thoughts— second thoughts—

But the strings had bounded with each other’s and braided down the middle, locking your souls for all eternity.

It was done and decided the moment you walked through that door…

•~•~•~•~•~•

He loves you.. mostly..

You had very strong opinions about stormfront being in a hospital bed inside his room at the vought tower.

She was supposed to be locked up in some disclosed location somewhere around the fucking Bermuda Triangle for all you gave a shit- so why the fuck!? Is she here!???

He didn’t like that you don’t approve of his pet but who could blame you?? Why the actual fuck is he still aquatinted with the nazi?

She worried you for a bit before she chewed off her own tongue and committed suicide.. leaving americas sweetheart to go off the deep end.

You didn’t give a shit, still don’t.

Then when Homelander flipped the fuck out on you about having something to do with her death. You lost all love for him and packed your bags, sending him a final middle finger before leaving vought and going back to Stan.

Stan approved for your antics and believed they were fully justified. He gave you all access to protection from homelander until finally the devil himself showed up on his front doorstep, begging to talk to you.

He got on his knees for one part in his speech and ohhhh lordddd Stan was amused.

Coming out of hiding, you gently pushed Stan out of the way and decided to listen to what John had to say.

Stan threatening him in the background but yannooooo-

You finally came to conclusion that Homelander has a lot of issues that aren’t exactly broadcasted on the news for the world to see. That the American idol was someone else behind closed doors and that if you wanted any kind of life with him at all, you’re both gonna haft to work through somethings.

Trust for one and privacy for another.

Homelander is constantly stuck up your ass whenever he’s bored or just has nothing to do. It’s like he’s your kid more than your partner.

He loves watching ‘ A day in the life of a non supe!’ Seriously tho, how is your life sooooooo boring??

He’ll try to help make it more exciting and if it gets just a little too extreme like him bringing a whole ass supervillain into your work place for some kind of excitement— you’re gonna have to explain him that your boring human life is exactly what you want.

You don’t want no supervillains or press crawling up your ass 24/7, you’re happy with the way things are.

Explain these things to him and sure enough, you’ll both eventually be happy.

Two story house with a white Pickett fence, a crusty dog and kids running around while he barbecues around back— the American dream!!

Seriously tho, I think you both would work out fine. He just needs reassurance and proof that you actually love him and are happy.

<3333333

[hintofelation99]

The Justice League Hangs out with Duke

Bruce: Duke, it's time we had the talk.

Duke: Uh... nope. No thank you. I'm not getting the sex talk from Batman.

Bruce: What? No! The Robin talk.

Duke: But, I'm- I'm the Signal now? Isn't it a bit late for a Robin talk?

Bruce: Son, it's never too late, not for this.

Duke: Um. Ok.

Bruce: When Dick, Jason, and Tim first started as Robins they created a tradition. A tradition that continued with Stephanie, Damian, and now you.

Duke: And that tradition is?

Bruce: Taking down the Justice League. By being annoying and slightly terrifying.

Duke: OHHHHHH. Is that why no one from the Justice League talks to me?

Bruce: Yes, yes it is. But don't worry. I made an arrangement that will allow you time alone with league members to continue the tradition. You have a week to prepare.

——————

Duke: Cass, what do I do?

Cass raises an eyebrow at Duke.

Duke: For the Robin tradition thing. I have to take down the entire Justice League in a night using creative, outlandish, and original methods. But it's already been done by Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph. So what do I do? How can I be better than all of them.

Cass smirks: Take them down too.

Duke looking at Cass like she's crazy: What?

Cass: Take. Them. Down.

Duke: Holy shit, you are terrifying.

Cass just smiles and leaves.

-> One Week Later <-

Wonder Woman, Superman, Flash, Aquaman, Green Lantern, Black Canary, Martian Manhunter, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, and Steph gather in the Watchtower.

Duke: Hey guys, Batman just wanted to go through some training exercises with everyone. He'll be a little late. Harley and Ivy escaped Arkham and are trying to grow penis shaped shrubs in all the public parks. But, don't worry he asked me to go ahead and start with out him.

Green Lantern: Why are you leading this meeting?

Duke: Batman is running late and he wants me to practice leading meetings.

Green Lantern, glaring suspiciously at Duke: Are you about to do that stupid Robin tradition where you torture all of us?

Duke: What Robin tradition? Also, I'm not even a Robin? I'm the Signal.

Green Lantern continues to glare at him.

Superman: Calm down Green Lantern, the Robins never do this in front of each other.

Every League member seems to relax at this.

Duke acting confused: Uhhh, yeah. Ok, we have a few housekeeping things to do according to the list Batman left. So, I'll have everyone pair up for sparring while I handle these individually.

------

Everyone is in the training room working out or sparring. Duke approaches Tim.

Duke: Hey Tim, Bruce wanted you to look in to that Bludhaven case. Is that ok with you?

Tim: Yeah, why wouldn't it be?

Duke: Oh, I just thought it might be difficult considering what Dick did.

Tim: ...What did he do?

Duke: Wait, you haven't noticed? Oh no, I'm sorry I shouldn't have said anything.

Tim: Duke. Tell me what he did.

Duke: Well, Jason said that he replaced all your coffee with decaf.

Tim: THAT BASTARD. No wonder I've been feeling so tired! I'm going to kill him!

Duke: Wait, just stop! I heard that he hid all of it in Green Lantern's room.

Tim: Wait, why there?

Duke: Something about you being afraid of him.

Tim: WHAT?! I'm not afraid of the Green Nightlight! I'm gonna find that coffee then make Dick pay.

Duke: Oh, well cool, good luck!

------

Green Lantern: Um, what are you doing in my room?

Tim: Where is it?

Green Lantern: Where's what?

Tim: You know what I want. Give up now or face the consequences.

Green Lantern: WHAT ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT?

Tim: Fine. Consequences.

------

Steph, sparring with Duke: So, what's it like being the first meta bat?

Duke: Not too bad, but I could do with out the whole 'predict the future' thing.

Steph, laughing: What? You can not see the future.

Duke: I bet you $50 I can

Steph: Your on.

Duke, makes everything around him light up and uses a weird voice: In the next thirty minutes Green Lantern will flee the Watchtower in fear. Soon after Dick will be attacked by Tim.

Steph, snorts in obvious disbelief.

Steph: That was so fake-

Green Lantern runs out of the tower looking terrified.

Steph: No way.

Tim tackles Dick and they start fighting like three year old's on the floor.

Steph, handing Duke $50: Holy shit Magic Man.

Duke makes things light up and does the voice again: Oh my god.

Steph, looking excited: What?!

Duke: The- the sushi. The sushi you brought today, it's made from-

Duke pretends to choke back a sob.

Duke: It's made from the fish who was the maid of honor at Aquaman's wedding.

Steph: HOLY SHIT.

------

Steph and Aquaman sit beside each other for lunch, she pulls out her sushi and looks at Aquaman sadly.

Steph: I am so, so sorry for your loss. But just know that her sacrifice is not in vain.

Aquaman, looks confused for a second then sees the sushi: NOPE. Not this again! I'm leaving.

Steph: Wait! I'm sorry!

Aquaman leaves as Steph tries to chase him down.

------

Jason is laughing and filming as Dick and Tim fight.

Duke, whistles: Man, imagine if that video went on YouTube.

Jason, looking confused: What?

Duke: I'm just saying if the video of Red Robin and Nightwing fighting like kids ever got on YouTube, it'd go viral. Oh and they would be so pissed!

Jason, laughs: Too bad B would kill me if I uploaded this.

Duke: Yeah, I guess so. And you can't upload it here because then Superman would get in trouble.

Jason: Why would the boy scout get in trouble?

Duke: Cause he always uses his YouTube account on the Justice League computer. So it'd look like he uploaded it and B would find out that Superman watches cat videos while he's on monitor duty.

Jason, smirking: Huh, so you're saying if I upload this on the League computer I'd piss off Bruce, Tim, and Dick and get Supes in trouble?

Duke, acting innocent: Huh, I guess so.

-> A Few Minutes Later <-

A call from Bruce comes up on the main computer.

Superman: Hey Batman, what can I do for you?

Bruce: You, Red Hood, cave now.

Jason: What? Why me?

Bruce: Because I saw that little home video you uploaded of your brothers.

Jason: What, that wasn't me!

Bruce: I could hear you laughing while you filmed.

Jason: Dammit.

Jason and Clark leave for the cave pouting like kids.

------

Duke: Hey, Black Canary?

Black Canary: Yes Duke?

Duke: I'm sorry to do this on such short notice, but I'm very worried about Dick and Tim.

Black Canary: Why?

Duke: Well, Tim keeps claiming that Dick is out to get him. Something about Dick messing with his coffee? And Dick feels like he's just being attacked for no reason and is worried about Tim's health. Is there anyway you could intervene?

Black Canary, looking sighing and looking exhausted: Usually I have three days of preparation before dealing with bats.

Duke: I know it's just-

Duke gestures to Tim and Dick rolling on the floor fighting.

Duke: They really need help.

Black Canary: Alright, I'll see what I can do.

Black Canary attempts to intervene only to get pulled into the fight. Now the three of them are tangled in a huge, confusing fight, that's filled with yelling and hair pulling.

------

Duke: Damian! Quick!

Damian: What is it Thomas.

Duke: I think somethings wrong with Dick and Tim and maybe even Black Canary. They're all fighting and won't stop! Can you help me contain them so that we can figure out what's going on?

Damian: Fine. I shall help.

Duke: Ok, just try to herd them into this containment cell.

Damian joins the fight managing to get everyone, including himself, into the containment cell. As Damian is trying to leave Duke closes the cell. Damian angrily yells and bangs on the sound proof walls.

Duke: What? Sorry, can't hear you! My hand slipped!

------

Wonder Woman: Very well done Signal.

Duke, acting innocent: Hm?

Wonder Woman: You tricked Red Robin into scaring Green Lantern away, then into fighting Nightwing. Once that fight broke out you tricked Red Hood into uploading a video to the internet using the Superman's credentials. By uploading that video he caused both himself and Superman to face Batman's wrath. You also used the fight to trick Stephanie into annoying Aquaman to the point of leaving. Then you involved Black Canary in the fight, which was her downfall. And, as a final touch, you managed to get Robin into the fight and trapped all in a containment cell. You successfully eliminated 9 foes with one trick.

Duke: You mean 11.

Wonder Woman: What?

Duke: 11. You see, I didn't trick Red Robin, I tricked Nightwing. I had a week to prepare. In that week I convinced Dick that Tim needed to cut back on the caffeine and that Dick should help by switching all of Tim's coffee with decaf. I also convinced him to hide that coffee in the watchtower, in Green Lantern's room. So that was all true.

Wonder Woman: But, that still does not make 11?

Duke: It does. Because This morning I moved the coffee. I replaced the Flashes decaf with Tim's ultra caffeinated coffee. You see Tim has it specially manufactured to increase the caffeine levels. And, while Flash doesn't usually drink his coffee in the morning, he's always running late and forgets, he does drink coffee during training breaks. Which is now. So in about five minutes we will have an incredibly caffeinated speedster in the Watchtower. And since you're the only one around right now with a chance of catching him, that's your problem.

Right as Duke finishes Flash runs by, majorly hyped up on caffeine.

Duke: Checkmate.

------

Martian Manhunter: It appears that I am the last remaining League member.

Duke: Yeah, I don't really understand this tradition but apparently every Robin ends it by picking a favorite league member.

Martian Manhunter: Out of all the League members, why have you chosen me?

Duke: Your smart and have a lot of cool powers. Also, I dunno, I hear you sometimes feel like an outsider with the league. Cause, the whole martian thing. And I know it's not the same but, sometimes I feel like an outsider with the bats, being the only meta and all.

Martian Manhunter: You have chosen me so that we may bond over our lack of connections?

Duke: Uhhhh, yeah?

Martian Manhunter: Hm. Very well, I assume that this is your “Robin Weakness”. Apparently every Robin has one.

---------------------------------------------------

<- Previous |

[yoditorian]

room to run

frankie morales/reader

a companion piece to close to what wherein the roles are reversed. written for purely selfish reasons because i needed the comfort, progress is wobbly right now but we move. concept of frankie as a mechanic was inspired by the wonderful @softpedropascal 💛 as always with this series, please heed the warnings, this is a particularly rough one. 

as always, if you’re struggling with the themes of this fic, a quick internet search can help to find local resources for you.

series masterlist // main masterlist

word count: just shy of 2.1k // warnings: addiction (both reader and frankie are in recovery), relapse, drug abuse, vomit,  non-specific non-sexual nudity, vague rehab mention, 18+ please

Frankie’s not sure what time it is.

Only that somewhere, in the near pitch black of his room, his phone is ringing. 

An annoying tune that ricochets in his skull, set up by Pope a thousand years ago because ‘you never hear your goddamn phone, Morales’. Loud and clear even as it sits in the pocket of his jeans, buried under the pile of clothes from today that didn’t quite make it into his laundry basket before he collapsed on his bed. In his defence, it’s been a really long day. 

The ache in his back is even more pronounced from leaning into the same engine that’s been giving him problems all week. Some overly expensive suped up thing, far too aggressive for the car it’s been - badly - installed in. He likes his job, but some days he really doesn’t get paid enough. He reaches out for the ankle of the jeans, pulling them up so at least he doesn’t have to actually get out of bed, and fishes the phone out of the pocket.

“Hello?” 

Nothing. 

“Hello?”

A prank call. A wrong number. A butt dial, whatever. He’s about to hang up, ready to slip back into a mercifully dreamless sleep, when he hears it. A shallow, shuddering breath that’s horrifyingly familiar. He spends an hour every Sunday morning, paying more attention to the steady inhale and exhale while other group members share their stories. In case he needs to reach over and snag a flapjack from the table and push it into a waiting hand. 

So, not nothing. 

“Petal?” 

“I-” You cut yourself off, and Frankie worries you’ve hung up on him, “I’m sorry, it’s so late, I just- I, fuck.” 

It all comes out in one breath, words tripping over one another. He can hear the effort you’re putting in to steady them, to try, but you just can’t do it and a choked off sob cracks his heart. 

“I need you.”

And he’s up and out of bed in the same second.

The engine grease stains on his jeans don’t matter anymore, he doesn’t even bother smushing his cap over the bed head he knows he has. It’s almost like he’s back in his army days, called on a last minute emergency mission, only this time it’s you. 

“I’m coming, okay? Don’t hang up.” 

And, to your credit, you don’t. 

You seem to breathe a little easier knowing Frankie’s on his way. The static of the air through his phone’s speaker is softer, more regular, and he’s relieved. Though he doesn’t slow down any. He just hopes there’s no cops lurking around as he hightails it to your neighbourhood, he’s not exactly sure how he could talk his way out of a ticket when he’s breaking several traffic laws at once.

Yes officer, I’ve been in love with one of my best friends for the last two years and I can’t tell them because I’m a fucking chicken, but they’re in a crisis and they need me right now. That’s why I’m going 80 in a fucking school zone, at 2am. When school is closed, so really it’s not that big of a deal.

He takes a corner a little too fast, and decides that maybe he should slow down just a touch. He can’t help you if he wraps his car around a tree on the way.

The lights are off. 

The lights are off and the front door is wide open and Frankie’s heart drops to his stomach. He’s barely turned the car off before he’s jogging up the path and stepping into your dark hallway, calling out your name. There’s a sniffle from down the hall, the kitchen maybe, and he closes the door behind him. He slides the deadbolt home, so you’re safe from the outside at least. 

He doesn’t quite know what to say when he flicks the light switch in the kitchen. 

You’re on the ground, knees pulled up to your chest, leaning your head back against the cabinet under the sink. The sharp, acidic smell of vomit hangs in the air, the evidence streaked along the metal of the draining board and down the front of your t-shirt. Oh, he never imagined it would be this bad. 

It’s like you don’t even see him. Your phone is still lying on the floor next to you, still on the call with him, but your mind isn’t even in the room. You’re so far away, he doesn’t know how to get you back without jarring you.

Someone, somewhere, is saying your name. 

It’s faint at first, you can’t really hear it over the blood thundering in your ears, but it’s there. Growing louder. No, not louder really. Closer. Less muffled. And something in your brain clicks into place. Because you know that voice, you dream about that voice. And suddenly you can feel the cold hardwood floor underneath you, the cabinet door at your back, the ache in your shoulders, the dried tear tracks stiffening your cheeks. Your eyes come back into focus and they shift over to the doorway, to Frankie. One look at those big sad eyes, and you’re gone again.

The panic bubbles up so suddenly you have no hope of containing it, fresh tears streaming down your face. And Frankie, Frankie who gives you every kind of love you’ll never deserve, spares no thought for his knees as he crosses the room and falls to your side. You’ve half a mind to pull away when he reaches for you, but you know he won’t let it slide. So you let him maneuver you away from the cabinet. You let him pull your body back into his chest and settle you between his legs on the cold floor. Even as gross as you are, you find you don’t mind it. 

He sits there with you, arms around you as best he can with the state you’re in, for a long time. He presses a soft kiss to the back of your head and you can’t suppress the almost painful full body shudder. The care he takes with you, it’s enough to make you want to cry again.

Frankie’s fingers find the hem of your old t-shirt, stretched out and faded from years of wearing and washing, and he sighs when you lean forward enough that he can peel it off of you, taking care to keep the stained front off of your face. It’s certainly not the way he imagined he’d undress you for the first time, not that he ever thought he’d get to. But it’s not like that, not in the slightest. He wants to help you feel better, and the first step towards tomorrow is getting the stink of your own vomit off of you, he’s sure. 

You let him move you how he wants. Let him haul you to your feet and lead you into the bathroom. Let him pull your sweatpants down your legs and hold onto his shoulders as you step out of them. Let him adjust the water temperature just right, and herd you into the shower. He goes to step out, to give you a little privacy, but you catch his wrist before he can. 

“Please don’t go.” Your voice is hoarse, and you might be embarrassed in any other situation. But Frankie’s hand comes up to cradle your cheek for the barest of moments and he pulls away to sit on the closed toilet seat.

“I’m right here, petal.”

It takes a moment of watching him before you’re satisfied enough to step under the warm water.

It’s easier to breathe once you’ve scrubbed away the stench of vomit and failure, at least for a second. Without the distraction, you’re free to focus on what you know awaits you. You’re reluctant to switch the water off and face him, to have to see the disappointment in those big brown eyes you’ve come to rely on. 

Only, there isn’t any. 

Frankie’s waiting with your biggest, fluffiest towel in hand, and he bundles you in it the moment you step out onto the mat. There’s only kindness in his eyes, kindness and a hint of something your hopeful little heart wants so desperately to name. But you won’t. Instead, you bury yourself in the warmth of his arms. 

“Third drawer.” You whisper, once he’s led you through to your bedroom and settled you on the edge of the mattress. He’s grateful that you save him the trouble of rooting through all your drawers to find a new set of pyjamas. 

He pulls out the softest ones he can find, and helps you pull them on. Maybe it’s overkill, but he gets the feeling you appreciate it all the same. 

“Do you want me to take you anywhere in the morning? I know it’s not a group day but we could find a different meeting, check you in somewhere if you need it.” 

Suggestions. That’s what you’d given him, way back at the beginning of your friendship when he had his first real wobble. When Pope had called you in a panic and you sat on his bathroom floor until your ass went numb because he needed you. You shake your head as he tucks the covers up around you. 

“Okay. Cleaning stuff?”

“Under the sink.” 

He smiles. A real smile, not the tight, annoyed kind that you’ve come to expect when you get into a mess like this. It’s not a ‘tired of your bullshit’ smile. It’s a ‘I’m gonna go clean up your sick at 3am because you’re my friend and recovery is a bitch’ smile. You’ll start crying again if he looks at you like that for any longer.

“Frankie,” You sit up as he’s leaving, “There’s a bag on the worktop.”

He nods solemnly. He already knows, he clocked it when he first came in. 

“I’ll deal with it.” 

The full blow of the situation doesn’t hit Frankie until he’s halfway through scrubbing at your sink with disinfectant. 

He’s seen you stumble, he’s seen you struggle, but never like this. He’s never considered you might fall off the wagon completely, even for a moment. 

If he were more optimistic, he might think you only found an old stash and panicked. But the half dissolved pills on the draining board don’t lie. At least you threw them up. At least you called him. At least he could be here. Though he worries he isn’t enough, he worries because he isn’t a doctor or a therapist or anything important like that. He’s just him. But maybe that’s okay.

Maybe that’s all you need tonight. 

It’s a relief to peel off the washing up gloves, your kitchen sink up to a sparkling shine, and he dumps them right in the bin. He’ll buy you new ones. 

Frankie turns back to the counter and spies the little plastic bag, two remaining white pills settled in the bottom. They look so harmless, so unthreatening, but the sight of them makes his stomach turn. He opens the bag, tapping the pills out into his palm, and drops it into the bin after the rubber gloves. He snags your phone up off the ground, finally hanging up on the call with his own, and tucks it into his back pocket. The pills he takes into the bathroom, dumping them into the toilet with a satisfying plop, and he wastes no time in flushing them. Gone. 

You’ve shrunk back in on yourself in the time he’s spent cleaning up, your eyes still so far away when you don’t know he’s looking, and it breaks his heart.

“Looks brand new out there, I should charge you.” He tries and you laugh, at least, but your little giggle is bordering on hollow. 

He doesn’t want to leave. He’s not sure you want him to either, but he won’t push you if you’d rather be alone. 

“Okay-”

“Please don’t go.” You cut him off, repeating your words from the bathroom.

You sound so scared. And Frankie knows he couldn’t leave, even if he wanted to.

“Okay.”

You shuffle over to make space as he tugs off his shoes and jeans and slides in beside you like it’s the most natural thing in the world. You cuddle into him the moment he settles, face shoved into his chest, and his arms wind around you. Safe, secure, solid. That’s Frankie, through and through. He kisses the top of your head and sighs.

“Go to sleep, petal. I’m right here.”

His heartbeat lulls your own, and you do.

TAGLIST (add yourself here):

@bee-dameron @keeper0fthestars @thevoiceinyourheadx @firstofficerwiggles @1800-fight-me @ew-erin @chatterbean @darnitdraco @greeneyedblondie44 @captain-jebi @sarahjkl82-blog @miulola @thisshipwillsail316 @amneris21

also tagging everyone who said something lovely on the first piece and might be interested in this - pls let me know if you want to be removed: @waywardimpalawriter @lawfulgranola @fuckoffbard @softdin​ @thirstworldproblemss @casifer-is-king @yespolkadotkitty​ @f0rever15elf​

[grazieschillivera]

Both is good

Summary : you have to babysit for a friend but unfortunately this only leads to Butcher being more stressed out

Word count : ca. 1800

You didn't even had to reach the last step or the stairs down to your hideout to see the lost faces of the boys.

,,What the hell Y/N?'' asked Hughie with furrowed brows, after a moment of weird silence.

,,What?I forgot something.'' you said casually while approaching them playing stupid on purpose for that stupid reaction.Not aware of the fact, that you just stepped into an argument between Butcher and the rest on his lacking interaction with Ryan.

,,I meant that baby.What happened?'' asked Hughie.

,,Did someone never taught you about the birds and bees.'' you said now with a low giggle, while turning the baby in your arms carefully that it could face Kimiko, who slowly had walked to you all fascinated by the baby.

,,This little cutie is Daisy, she is one year old and my former roomates baby.She has some appartment inspections today and asked me to babysit while she is gone.'' you explained finally and adjusted her little cap.

,,This picture is just wrong.You with a baby?'' said Butcher in a mocking tone.

,,Why?At least I can keep my dorm clean.Those empty asia food boxes are from last weekend and I bet Hughie hasn't managed to write his application documents for a job at Neumann's Office yet.'' you said while walking past him, after you had the baby handed to Kimiko.

You could hear Hughie groan behind you.

,,Was Y/N all the time this – parenting?'' asked Hughie.

,,No she's just in her role now, like always.Last time she was a fucking IT- Pro just because she could fix the TV.Y/N is just immature.'' said Butcher.

You and the rest of the group ''shhed'' Butcher for his choice of words at the same time.He gestured Kimiko to give him the baby instead, he didn't seem to like your uneasiness with it.Kimiko might belonged to Frenchie, but that did not change the fact that she was still dangerous.

,,I think both is good.Who doesn't want a mom, who is also still a bit of a child.'' said Hughie, giving you a bit more confidence after Butcher's critic.

,,I think Y/N would make a good mother.'' said Frenchie while taking Kimiko in his embrace to sooth the daring glance on Butcher.

,,Thanks.'' you said, giving him a brief but generous smile before you turned around again to search in your bag for the coziest scarf for Daisy and gloves for you. Even though Daisy wore a jacket, gloves and a cap you wanted to make sure she wouldn't freeze while being in the park with her.

,,What about you guys?Don't you have something to do today?'' you asked while searching.They explained to you that they had nothing to do currently besides waiting for some new information from Grace Mallory.

,,Why did you took the baby from Kimiko?'' you asked Butcher with a concering eyebrow lift when you were done and faced the group again.

You knew that this question put him on the spot but you rather felt for Kimiko in that moment.

,,You can't just hand the baby to every possible person, just keep it by your side.She is a supe after all.'' he said while he handed Daisy back into your embrace.His voice was clear, he had nothing to hide.

,,What happened the last time you had a baby in you arm?Three people got killed.'' you said while adjusting Daisy on your arm.

,,No one said I would be the better option love.'' said Butcher.

,,Well obviously not.You're always so critizising and serious, no wonder you just stay the same.'' you said.You two exchanged a daring stare.

The athmosphere was far too tense to let someone utter, what everyone thought.This scene was almost like a fight between mommy and daddy.

,,Then why don't you gather up your stuff and -.'' Butcher said but you interrupted him.

,,Fuck off.Yes just what I was thinking.'' you said in a low voice while covering Daisy's small ears.

,,Alright.I will be in the park if someone wants to join.'' you said before you walked to the door.You only noticed some weird noises behind you instead of a proper answer.With a curious look you turned around before you shoot at everyone a daring look not sure what that was about.

The entire park was covered with powdery snow, that glittered in the sun and crunched underneath the shoes.Unfortunately for you no snow fell from the sky, but Daisy still seemed to be amazed by it.Her little head turned around all the time, trying to see as much as possible.

A memory from your childhood crossed your minds.

,,Daisy?Shall I show you a magic trick?You know, I can let it snow.'' you said to Daisy before you started walking to a fir until you stood directly underneath it.You waited until you had Daisy's full attention at your hand, that had reached for a lower branch.Thats when you pulled it down and a gentle snowfall came down on you.Daisy's high pitched noises and kicking made you giggle, she clearly wanted a bonus.

You were far too occupied with her that you didn't notice how Butcher stood some meters away on the sidewalk and watched you.Then you would have noticed his poorly hidden smile due to how warm you made his heart feel at a sudden.

Instead you met Butcher's grumpy face, when you turned around after the third time you pulled on one of those snow covered branches.On his hair and shoulders laid a good amount of snowflakes.While Daisy showed her amusement merciless you could not really laugh at all.

,,What do you want here?'' you asked.

,,Thought you offered us to join you.'' said Butcher.

Some moments later you three sat down on a bench.

,,So what's the matter with shaking the snow from the threes?'' asked Butcher, who seemed to struggle with finding his words.

,,My mom always used to do this with me.She always called it a magic trick.'' you said back in this memory and Butcher snorted.

,,What?Was that already to immature again?'' you asked a bit annoyed by now.

,,Then tell me your favourite memory of your childhood?'' you said , when you got the feeling what topic Butcher might needed to talk about.

He thought about this for a moment.

,,I don't know.Maybe the days when Lenny and I went out fishing, he was into that stuff.Spending the entire fucking day on a lake waiting for nothing.'' Butcher said, but still his lips curled up in a smile.

,,Sounds fun.'' you said despite his uncomfortable tone.

,,Honestly.My dad also used to do this before he cheated on my mom and left us.Maybe you should try this out with Ryan.'' you said earning a sharp glimpse from him.His fists were balled.

,,Why does everyone has to come up with this fucking topic?'' he asked.That was the moment when you decided to not just accept Butcher's stubborness.

,,Butcher!'' you said now gesturing the Daisy, the second time of him cursing was enough for your liking.Normally you wouldn't mind.

,,Because you clearly need to talk about it.Why else would you come to me after we had a discussion?You normally just ignore it until I decide to do as well.'' you said starting to occupy Daisy with your hands, wiggeling and clapping casually around.

Butcher nodded a bit defeated.

,,So great father than?'' asked he.

,,Seems to be a thing more frequently.'' you said bitterly.

You started to talk about your childhood, when Butcher finally found the courage to explain his latest attitude.You both talked about your own messed up childhood , seeing that the both of you seemed to have a fair amount of similarities.

,,Laugh at me as much as you want but those little things like the magic trick , are sometimes the only thing someone has to prevent them from doing something far more stupid.If you don't want to do it for yourself or Ryan, do it for the rest of the world.He's a supe after all.'' you said, your voice sounded still bitter, cause your mind was still in some old memories.

You covered Daisy's face with your hand, when a cold gust of wind came around.

Butcher said nothing.Instead he looked you deep into the eyes, like he tried to find something in it that you just have let shine through.

,,I know I don't belong into this and I also believe in you.. but if you need help, I would love to be there for you... both.'' you said carefully but hesitated to reach for his hand.But before you could draw your hand back to yourself Butcher took it and caressed it gently.

,,Thanks.'' was all he said but there was no need for more words.He gave you a brief but honest smile, that even reached his eyes.You knew how much Butcher hated it to accept help in certain matters.So you gave him a reassuring smile and enjoyed the moment of peace between the two of you.

,,You know that I like you having with me and that I like you just as you are.Not just when I need your help.'' he said a bit lower, since you sat closer to him by now.

You had just let those words pass without a comment and shifted a bit in his arms.You liked Butcher but you knew he was good in manipulating people.

,,Honestly Y/N.Please know this.'' he added, when he seemed to know what you had on your mind.

,,You're sometimes really sweet Butcher.I miss this.'' you said not quite sure if you meant this current moment as well.

,,You know I can't always be like that.'' Butcher said honestly.

,,Never said I don't like your other said.The only thing I really don't like is your cunt attitude.'' you said in a whisper to still keep Daisy away from those words.

This seemed to put a smile on Butcher's face.It almost felt like a deal you just had made.

The scene got interrupted by a bang behind you.With no hesitation your turned around, while keeping Daisy near against your breast only to see Hughie, Frenchie and Kimiko approaching you.According to Hughie's smirk you had a feeling who had thrown the snowball, the last bits of his remains still clang on the bench.

There it was again.Butcher's tense fists, even though it was Hughie.His arm around you shoved you closer to him.Even though you liked the fact that he looked after you, you would need to keep this thing between the two of your going.Butcher might needed some comfort but also someone to show him his boundaries of his struggles.

You freed yourself out of his embrace and gave him a smirk before handing him Daisy over, who luckily hasn't mind the bang at all.

,,Maybe you can keep her for a second? That would be a good start.Just need to teach Hughie a lesson.'' you said ironically and started to make your first snowball before you ran towards him.

Butcher looked after you.The view of you falling into the snow due to your attempt to bring Hughie to the ground, made him chuckle.You might were not the most mature person now and than, but you still could take responsibility over something he still had to learn.Maybe that was the reason he liked you.Both was good.

[alj4890]

Happy Birthday @desiree-pow 🎂 Here's a drabble with one of your favorite pairings 😉

(Colt x MC) in a Choices: Ride or Die fan fic.

A/N You know I don't have a lot of experience with these two, LOL, but I'll try and do something with them for your birthday, Desi.

Masterlist

Can't Forget

How am I supposed to forget it like it never happened?

Ellie set her journal aside.

How could Colt expect her to erase from her mind one of the most life altering moments of her brief existence? She wasn't the same girl who was once too fearful to step off the straight and narrow path. The times she had done so, those few crazy months, had opened her eyes to not only a new world, but one where everything wasn't so necessarily black and white.

Those gray, shadowy areas were where she found her true self. They were where she felt her most comfortable...free to say or think whatever she wanted with little regard to the consequences.

But Colt had told her to leave it and pretend it never happened.

If he wanted me to forget, then he shouldn't have made it so memorable.

Being across the country did little to stop her from trying to find him. The hours she spent scouring social media sights for any hint of Colt Kaneko would have probably bumped her up a semester or two closer to graduation if she had spent that time studying for classes. Every possible thing she could think of that he either loved or once mentioned he liked was thoroughly searched. Picture after picture of motorcycle expos, drag races, and car shows were magnified and studied. Nothing was left to chance.

She had even made peace with her father in the hopes that he would tell her if Colt was ever found in L.A. and arrested.

Ellie had done everything she could think of to find the one man who had encouraged her to live a life without him.

She knew why he had done it. He thought he was protecting her. Give her a chance for a happy, dull life. He encouraged her to find some upstanding, intelligent person at college to start a life with.

How can I have a life without the one who actually made me come alive?

Her searches in her cozy dorm were giving her little to go on. There was only one thing left to do.

It was time to hit the road and see what she could find.

***************

A few months later, late one night, HWY 439, Nevada...

"Here." Colt dropped a few wads of hundred dollar bills on the table. "My entrance fee."

"You sure about this?" A tough looking man asked. His scarred cheeks dimpled with his smirk. "Ain't nobody been able to even keep up with Reggie." He nodded toward a tiny, young woman with bubblegum pink hair. "She can't be beat."

"Yeah, well, she hasn't raced against me." Colt muttered.

The man snorted with laughter. "Hey man, it's your money. If you want to throw it away, then that's on you."

Colt walked away. After having to lay low the last year and a half, he needed to find a way to make money. He didn't want to deal with the gangs his father had got mixed up in. Since he couldn't show his face in Los Angeles, he had done his best to drift from small town to small town.

Working odd jobs here and there was just not cutting it anymore. He wanted to do something legit, some kind of business he wouldn't have to worry about feds busting in.

There was an even bigger reason for wanting to go straight.

Ellie.

He had tried to forget her. Hell, he had tried to date again, yet no girl could come close to Ellie. Every decision he made now revolved around her in some way. .

Even though he had been the one to end what they had, he held that miniscule glimmer of hope that one day they would bump into each other and decide to try again. His legitimate business wouldn't make her fearful of her dad finding out about them.

And maybe...she would be proud of me.

"Focus." He muttered to himself. He needed to win this last race. The reward would be more than worth it. He could then settle down somewhere and open up a garage with no criminal history attatched.

As he walked back to his own car, he paused at the sight of a sleek, black 2015 Stuttgart 999 Widow pulling up

Ellie had a white one with gray--

Colt's jaw dropped when the driver got out.

Ellie pulled on a leather jacket as the cool desert air hit her skin. The crop top she was wearing along with the ripped jeans did little to help keep her warm. She scanned the drivers and gathering crowd for a familiar face.

"You racin'?" Scar face guy yelled out.

Ellie reached in her pockets and held up the money. "Yeah, I--"

"No. She isn't!" Colt snapped.

Ellie swung toward his angry voice.

The smile she had on her face warmed him to his core. He once thought he would ever see it again, much less directed at himself.

Not really knowing what to do, he started to walk toward her.

She ran and jumped into his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she captured his lips in a bruising, deep kiss.

Catcalls and whistles cut through the haze Colt was under with holding Ellie once again.

It took every ounce of strength he had to break away from their kiss. "Ellie, what are you doing here?"

"What do you think?" Her smile grew as he frowned at her. "C'mon Kaneko, I know you're smart enough to figure it out."

"Why aren't you at Langston?"

"I quit." She shrugged when he cursed. "College doesn't fit my lifestyle anymore."

"The hell it doesn't." He argued, setting her down. "You belong there. Not out here with--"

"Hey!" She pushed at his chest with her finger. "I decide where I belong. Not you. Not my dad." Her eyes narrowed on his. "Me."

"Gawd, you are so stubborn." He ran a hand threw his hair. "Get in your car and go home!"

"I am home!" She snapped. "I want to be with you and--"

"Ellie!" He gripped her arms, giving her a little shake. "We can't."

It hurt too much to say that to her a second time. He couldn't leave things between them like that again. He simply wasn't strong enough. 

"Not yet. I'm trying to make it to where one day we can try. Just, I need to know you’re safe and okay in college while I do this. Then we--"

She shook her head, no.

"Dammit Ellie, work with me here." He griped.

She wrapped her arms around his waist. "I told you, college isn't for me. I tried it for a year. I hated every second of it." Her big brown eyes searched his. "The only happiness I ever felt was with you."

Colt began to curse the unfairness of it all. As he told her that any man who let her have power over him was a fool, he pulled her to his chest and buried his face into her hair. Clutching her tight, he finally whispered how much he had missed her.

Ellie felt the beginning of tears pricking her eyes as he continued to tell how she was the only girl for him...that he loved her more than anything. She began to stroke his back when his voice shook with emotion.

"I love you too." She whispered back.

"What am I going to do with you?" He muttered into her hair.

"I have a few suggestions." She leaned back to look up at him.

"I bet you do." He gestured toward her car. "You're not racing."

"Who says?"

"I do."

"Last time I checked, you don't own my car or me." Ellie reminded him.

"Ellie, please." He dropped the superior attitude, catching her off guard with his plea. "I need you to sit this one out." He brushed her hair back over her shoulder, letting the strands drift through his fingers. "I won't be able to concentrate knowing you’re racing too."

Ellie stepped back, gripping his hand. "Then I'll be your extra set of eyes."

Dropping his head half in relief and half in resignation, he guided her toward his suped up Nissan GT-R.

Scar face snickered. "You two make up?"

"You could say that." Colt opened the passenger door for Ellie. Without another glance at the annoying guy who was holding the possible winnings, he got into the driver's seat and started it up.

His eyes cut to the right and he felt the first smile in a long time form on his lips. Ellie was already buckled up and checking out the other drivers.

Colt reached over the console and placed his hand on top of hers, lacing their fingers as he settled their clasped hands on the gear stick.

Ellie felt a flood of adrenaline mix with her happiness at finally being not only where she belonged but also with the one she was meant for. She had been ready to fight him on allowing her to live this life. Now knowing how much he had wanted her there and not tried too hard to make her leave him again, she knew deep down she had made the right decision.

Scar face stepped to the side of the road, holding a white flag. He raised it high in the air while speaking through a bullhorn.

The couple's eyes met then turned straight ahead. As if they were of one mind, they both moved the gear stick into first.

Colt slammed down on the gas when the flag was dropped, all while quickly shifting through second and third.

By the time they reached fifth gear, they had already left every other car far behind them...just like they had all those months apart.

[this-is-where-i-put-my-dark-shit]

Your Savior is Here! Ch 1

I don’t know if anyone is going to read this but I wanted to write it so here it is.

Natasha was fine where she was, squatting in an abandoned building, barely sobering up from drugs and living day to day. She does not want anyone to save her, but the most unlikely hero does not care what she wants.

Homelander has been lied to by the person he depended on most and is more alone than he has ever been. Everyone is trying to control him and in a unhealthy attempt to reclaim a small amount of control he decides to go against orders and help a random girl, but she doesn’t want him to. Too bad for her, he does not care.

Or Homelander picks up a random homeless girl and brings her home to make up for the things he lost. And finds out he’s over his mommy kink but may have developed a daddy kink

Spoilers for the boys if you haven’t finished the season! In this Homelander doesn’t kill Madelyn and Becca and the baby actually did die.

Now you may read

.......

Natasha’s POV

“Please don’t! We’re sorry! Please! I have a family!” Someone is begging. Then someone is screaming before going silent. It barely registers in my head in my sleepy haze but my body is already moving. I stumble to stand, needing to find a hiding place or an easy exit. The voice was slightly muffled, they must be in another room. As I get my bearings I look out the window for a swat van or a suspicious amount of black SUVs but find nothing other than the usual few cars that belong to the dealers that have been messing around on the lower floor of the abandoned building I’ve been squatting in.

Another voice, this one coming from the stairway to my left, sends a shiver down my spine, “Maybe you should have thought of your family before you joined this little ‘gang’.” I can imagine the creepy grin on his face as he speaks.

Homelander. That’s just fucking great.

Supes are nothing but fucking trouble. What the hell have those guys been doing to gain his attention? It’s none of my fucking business but I need to get the fuck out of here. The last thing I need to be is on a supes raider, I’ve got enough things going on. I glance down the stair way, hoping and praying that they would be far enough away I could at least go down to the first floor. I find a man, pressed against the wall at the bottom of the staircase, Homelander is holding him by the throat with that fucking smirk that is plastered everywhere. Not a single thing is out of place on him, his blond hair is combed out of his face, his uniform is as neat as could be. He looks like the perfect super hero. The body sliced to pieces on the stairs tells a different story.

“Please don’t do this! I won’t tell anyone about this! I swear!” The Latin man against the wall pleads helplessly, just like the other man had done. I’m sure it will work out just as well, I roll my eyes.

I walk back to the window, sure I would be fine if I jumped but I would also catch the man is stars’ attention. Fuck. I might as well just wait it out and hope he doesn’t search the place. On quiet feet, I make my way back to my makeshift tent and hide inside. I sit up against the wall, pulling my ratty blanket over me I close my eyes and pretend to sleep. The whole time the man is begging for his pathetic life until suddenly he just stops.

Homelander sighs, “If I let you go will you become a better person? Will you leave this kind of life behind and focus on your relationship with God and your family?”

“Yes! I promise I will!” The man responds immediately.

“Okay than, I’ll give you one more chance at life. You are free to go.”

Then there a rushed foot steps retreating away from the stairs followed quickly by a wet thunk and a shrill scream. Yea, that went well.

I sigh. He should have known not to trust a supe. I sit and wait.

The tarp hiding me is suddenly ripped away and I am face to face with that fucking smirk. I don’t know what he was expecting to be hiding here but from the way his brows raise, I’m assuming he didn’t think it would be me. He stares, eyes scanning over me and the shit surrounding me before landing on my face. I know I look disgusting and probably don’t smell the greatest but the way his nose crinkles is just rude. He looks upset the more he stares, his face scrunches and his mouth curves into a tight frown. That is until he realizes I’m staring back, all emotion seems to fall away, leaving just his perfect fucking face.

I’m not scared. I’m annoyed more than anything that my nap had been interrupted, I raise my brows back at him, “Can I help you?”

He chuckles casually, “Not the usual reaction I get. I’m here cleaning up the cartel that has been running drugs through this building. Are you involved with them?”

“Nope. Do I look like a fucking gang member?”

“You look like a fucking junky.”

I sneer at him as I attempt to calm the massive mess of curls on my head, “well you aren’t wrong. I was.”

“Let me guess, you are clean and trying to get back on your feet.”

“Clean? Yes. But I ain’t getting back on my feet, I’m just fine where I am. Now if you could throw that back on so can I can get back to my nap, that would be great.”

“Trash like you disgusts me. You homeless are just pathetic.” Those perfect blue eyes just stare at me, so cold for a hero.

I roll my eyes at him, “Do I have to listen to you insult me or can I fall back asleep while you are talking?”

“And you are fucking rude at that.”

“Am I supposed to be praising you right now? Bowing down? You murdered a bunch of criminals, great job! Happy?”

His chest puffs up, his lip curls up into a snarl, “You should be begging for your pathetic life!”

“That worked out great for those guys downstairs and considering how you’ve been looking at me I’m assuming I’d have even worse chances. If I’m such an eyesore just fucking kill me.”

His eyes start to glow a warning red, “Do you have a death wish?”

“No!” I snap, “I just want to go back to sleep but you felt the need to be all high and mighty and destroy my tent!” He huffs and mumbles under his breath as he struggles to explain himself.

“You saw me down stairs!” He accuses, “I heard you moving around.”

“Yes, cause I thought you were the Feds or something. Why does I matter that I saw you? Don’t you want people to see you being a hero?”

Homelander stiffens a bit.

I raise a brow at him, “Unless you aren’t supposed to be here? Is America’s greatest hero becoming a vigilante?” The irritation on his face has me chuckling. “You are! I’m not judging, just surprised that Vought is letting it slide but whatever, it isn’t my business. I won’t tell anyone if that is what you are worried about.”

“How could I believe a single word out of your mouth? You are a dirty, probably on some kind of drugs, fucking rude, and completely helpless.”

“Fuck off! If you need to take care of loose ends just do it. But if you are just going to continue to judge me and stare we are done here.” I rip the tarp out of his hand and half assly fix my tent before curling up underneath, fully expecting him to laser me to pieces too. But he doesn’t. When a few minutes pass of nothing but silence I open my eyes. He’s gone.

…..

Homelander’s POV

“Where have you been?” Madelyn snaps the moment she sees me, clicking her way down the hall after me. “I have been looking for you everywhere!”

I roll my eyes as I turn to face her, “I was out patrolling.” She stops in front of me with a exaggerated sigh as if I made her run to reach me when we both know I was the jumping through hoops for years for this old blonde witch.

I want to bang my head against the wall for being such an idiot for her. After years of her manipulation, her sweet words and gentle touches, I was able to break away after her lies came crumbling down around her. After I found out that they had killed the woman who was carrying my child they have the balls to pretend that nothing happened and continued on with business as usual. As if I’m not a person with feelings, I never thought I would want child but knowing it was going to happen only to find out I didn’t have a choice in the matter.

Madelyn places a hand on my trembling arm, I pull away, the look on her face is more than a little surprised, “Is everything okay?”

I laugh, forcing myself to smile, “I’m fine! I’m just tired of the lies that pour out of your mouth. So, if you don’t mind I have things to do and people to save.” It takes all of myself control not to rip her to pieces when she reaches for me again.

“You don’t actually. I cleared your schedule for the next few days, you had a stressful week and I think it would be best if you stayed quiet for a little while.”

“Excuse me?” I scoff, “I’m fucking Homelander! You can’t ground me.”

She puts her hands on her hips and gives me this look, “You need to focus on yourself. Go for a quick trip somewhere, stay in and catch up on TV, get a fucking pet! I don’t care, just do not cause trouble. I know you are upset about the baby but I need you to listen and,” she pauses as she glances up and down the empty hall before coming into my space, “and to be good for me. Can you be good for me like you used to?” Her hand caress my cheek like she’s done a million times before, though this time it lacks the same warmth, if there was ever any warmth to begin with.

“Fuck off.” I spit the words into her ear with a smile, enjoying the pissed off look on her face when I pull away.

The witch huffs, “I swear Homelander, no trouble!”

“I already got into a bit this morning.”

“What did you do?”

I shrug, “Destroyed millions of dollars worth of coke and killed a few cartel members, no big deal.”

“Did anyone see you while you were out saving the world?”

“Some junky but that’s it.” I do my best to sound casual about, as if that junkie’s green eyes aren’t engraved into my brain. Before this harpy pulled me out of my own head that junkie has been on my mind. Her ‘fuck off’ attitude was refreshing compared to every single person who is either blinded by my achievements or too terrified to do anything but smile. I’ve been fighting the urge to go find her again just to talk to someone who doesn’t want something from me. A fucking selfie or for me to behave. She just wanted me to leave.

I find myself smirking at the memory of her harsh words, our playful banter has been on repeat in my head. That along with her matter curls, dirty skin, and ratty clothes. She could have asked for money after what she saw but she didn’t she just wanted to sleep. She looked so tired so I let her continue with her nap as if there aren’t half a dozen bodies the floor below her. She looked so helpless, I’m sure she has no where else to go. No one to take care of her. I feel a unfamiliar pang of guilt in my chest that I left such a mess there. Even in the cold weather of the late fall it shouldn’t take long for that stuff to start smelling. Where will she go then? How will I be able to find her is she moves? That is if she hasn’t moved already.

“Homelander!” Madelyn screeches, I look down at her with my brows raised. “Have you been listening to me at all? You need to find that junkie and take care of them! I’m going to call a few people, get the media and swat there. We’ll say you had to leave the scene to chase another lead but that person can’t be interviewed. We don’t need them saying you were on a rampage just out of spite.”

“You want me to take care of her?” I repeat, nodding at the idea. I mean the girl obviously needs someone to do it, she can’t. I don’t fully understand my sudden interest in a normal person but for the first time in a long time I want something other than to impress this woman next to me. I nod again, “I’ll take care of her. I just need to grab a few things first and then I will!”

She says something else but I’m already rushing down the hall in search of some intern. I find one two floors down and shaking in their boots at the sight of me. By that time I have a list in my head of things I should need to do the job right. I ramble off what I need, tell them to charge it on some expense account and head off to find this girl, my girl.

There are police on the scene, the media is rambling off behind the yellow tape around the building. I sneak through the back side of the second floor away from the cameras and weave my way around the floor to where the girl was hiding last time. Her tent is ripped down. There is the same garage on the floor but a water bottle, the blanket and the tarp are missing which means she packed her stuff up and ran.

Fuck!

There is still a chance the police found her too. I rush out the way I came in to do my usual dramatic entrance on the street. I wave to the usual on lookers before finding the closest police officer who didn’t look like a fucking dumbass.

“Homelander!” The officer greets enthusiastically, beaming at me through all of this gear. “Did your lead get you any extra information?”

I nod, “Yes sir. Thank you so much for your work. I passed that information up to my headquarters so they should be getting it to you soon. I just have a question for you, did you happen to have seen a young homeless woman around here? I saw her earlier and did not get the chance to make sure she was okay.”

“Yes! We interviewed her and she said she slept through it all. She didn’t even know you were here!” He chuckles.

I nod casually, doing my best to pretend that panic is bubbling uncomfortably under my skin. “Do you still have her in custody?”

“No, they released her.”

“You guys continue your good work, I’m going to do a quick check over the area to make sure I didn’t miss anything.”

We salute each other before I take off into the sky in search of my girl. I get above most of the buildings, using my X-ray vision I scan over the area nearby, spotting a few homeless people here and there. My girl is tucked behind a dumpster half a block down. I’m less dramatic with this landing, doing my best to go unnoticed so she can’t run, not that I couldn’t catch her. She is sleeping again, curled up tight using both her blanket and tarp to cover her.

Poor thing.

I crouch down in front of her. She’s much prettier up close. I can’t wait to have her all cleaned up so I can see her in her fully glory.

“Are you back to insult me?” She hums without even opening her eyes.

I smile at her teasing tone, “How did you know it was me?”

Her golden green eyes open to me, glimmering beautifully in the natural light. “I didn’t tell the police if that’s why you are back.”

“I know. Why didn’t you?”

“It’s none of my business.”

“You are such a good girl,” I beam at her. “But I almost couldn’t find you, why did you move?”

“Because the police came busting in and kicked me out.”

“It’s fine, I found you anyway! Now let’s go.”

She raises a brow at me, “Go where?”

“With me. I’m going to take care of you.”

“Can’t you just do it here? I mean I guess it wouldn’t look good for the police to find me dead nearby when you already asked about me.”

I can’t help but chuckle, “I’m not going to kill you silly girl. I’m taking you back to Vought to take care of you, feed you and bathe you and all that Jazz.”

“Why?” She questions, more hesitant about me taking care of than killing her. It makes sense I guess, she’s obviously never had someone take care of her and since she wasn’t lucky enough to be chosen like me, no one cared to even look at her. I will take care of her better than any normal person could, I’m Homelander! I can give her all the things I never had, all the things I can never give my child, this girl can have it all. The structure, love and affection we all deserved but never received. And it will be genuine, unlike that shit Madelyn gave me.

“Because! Now get up,” I offer her my hand but she refuses to take it.

Her glare is set, “Fuck off.”

I resist the urge to just grab her, this is a perfect time to show her some tough love. “Very funny but enough of the swearing. The attitude is fine for now but the swearing has got to go.”

She just scoffs as she gathers her things and stand up, but instead of stepping into my arms she heads farther into the alley.

“Where do you think you are going?”

“Away from you!”

I shake my head at her, “I’m giving you to the count of 5 to come back here and apologize.”

She stops, “or what? Are you going to threaten to kill me again? I’m not scared of you.”

“Oh sweet girl, there are a lot of bad things I can do to you without killing you,” I give her my best smile. “Like for each second you make me wait past the five, I will break one finger. It’s really cute that you think you have an option with this, and you kind of do I guess. You can do this the hard way or the easy way.’’ She just stares at me dumbstruck, god her eyes are just so beautiful. The dark circles around them are less charming, we will have to work on those. But first I need to get her back to my apartment at Vought.

She takes one step backwards, her eyes on me to see if I notice.

“One,” I start.

“This is a fucking joke right?”

“Drop the swearing and I would like an apology for the attitude. Two.”

To my surprise she stomps her foot like an actual child, “why should I go anywhere with you?”

“Three.”

“Stop!” Her internal battle is obvious on her face.

“Four.”

“I’m sorry!” She blurts out.

I smile , “Come here and apologize like you actually mean it.”

She listens. In her dirty boots shuffle towards me, her head hanging low with shame. With her in front of me I can barely breath, the helpless thing is at my chest. She looks up at me with those bright green eyes, “I’m sorry for the attitude.”

My heart is racing.

There is fire dancing behind her eyes, she’s a strong one for a normal human. But I can’t let her know how just a little look can effect me, I need to keep a brave face.

“Lets go.”

She continues to stare at me expectantly.

“Oh yes, come here,” I open my arms to her.

The girl blanches, “We are flying?”

[fialleril]

I absolutely adore Flash and Substance pretty much for the exact reasons you list and that gifset you posted of Flash and Trickster might be my favorite scene from the entire DC Animated Universe

Literally my only gripe about Flash and Substance is that they made Linda a Flash fangirl when really Wally should have been a Linda fangirl. But I can overlook this because she’s there and they’re still super cute together. (Though I also have…a lot of headcanons by which I finagle things so that she more resembles her comics counterpart while still fitting in with her character in the show. I won’t derail with those headcanons here though.) And because pretty much everything else about that episode is just perfect.

Anyway, for anybody just joining in, my tags on that gifset were:

this is the purest interaction in all of superhero media i will never understand people who think kind and decent characters are boring catch me out here watching flash and substance on infinite loop chin in hands and stars in my eyes an entire episode about the power of kindness and good people being good to each other yes please this is the content i signed up for

I kid you not, I have never once managed to watch Flash and Substance without having to pause at the end of that scene and just…bask in the goodness for a couple minutes. I mean, the chin hands and starry eyes is completely literal. There’s hand flapping involved usually. And sometimes noises audible only to dogs.

I just really love stories about good people who care in such a genuine way that they make everyone around them a little better, too. Idk if there’s an official name for that character type, but it’s definitely in my top five fictional tropes. And I particularly love the execution of it in JLU generally and Flash and Substance specifically because it’s just so… low key.

I mean, the three other scenes that instantly come to mind when I think of this trope, three scenes that also make me pause and just soak them up every time, are the “help me take this mask off” scene in Return of the Jedi, and two scenes from Mad Max: Fury Road - Capable meeting Nux in the back of the war rig, and Max telling Furiosa his name at the end.

And those are all stunningly beautiful scenes that destroy me every time, no matter how many times I watch them. But they’re also Big Deal Moments. (And they should be!)

What’s so amazing about Flash and Substance is that…there really isn’t a Big Deal Moment at any point in the episode. It’s not a Big Deal Episode, either. Hell, it’s really a filler episode. Just a slice of life in Central City. There’s nothing particularly special about it and that’s kinda the point. Wally’s just…like that. All the time. He’s just a really decent guy, who knows everyone in his city by name, who hangs out with kids at the orphanage and paints old ladies’ fences in his free time, who visits his villains in the hospital, not even to check up on their rehabilitation, but just to hang out.

And this episode takes place less than half a season after the end of the Cadmus arc. The entire Justice League is still on thin ice with the public in general and with the US and world council governments in particular. They’re constantly on their best behavior trying to prove that they deserve to be called heroes at all.

And meanwhile Central City has built a Flash Museum because they love their hometown hero. Because, much as I love Bats and Supes and all the rest, Flash isn’t some half-mythical figure fading in and out of the shadows, or some symbol of hope spotted up in the sky, or somebody who comes in to save the day and then is off to the next town and the next day that needs to be saved. He wears a mask and (unlike his comics counterpart, at least during the period I’m fondest of) he has a secret identity, but he doesn’t actually act much differently as Flash than he does as Wally.

Well, okay. He’s actually got a pretty damn impressive Obfuscating Stupidity act going on, but one of the low key but delightful reveals that comes out of Flash and Substance is that he primarily employs his Obfuscating Stupidity act on the other members of the Justice League. And supervillains, of course. (The non-Rogue ones, anyway. The Rogues damn well know better.) And even then, he doesn’t keep up the act out of any desire to disguise his identity. He does it because somebody’s got to be the fun one in this band of Super Serious Heroes, and it just so happens that Wally likes being the fun one. So that works out nicely for everyone. Well, everyone but Grodd and Lex Luthor, who are perpetually annoyed by his heckling. But honestly they deserve it.

And it gives him an advantage sometimes, being the fun one. Like with Trickster. Wally’s actually friends with James, and the really wonderful thing about that scene with Trickster is that James knows they’re friends, too. It’s not the far more common superhero scenario, where the hero cares a lot about the villain’s hopeful rehabilitation because they feel somehow responsible, but the villain despises the hero and the audience knows that rehabilitation will never happen. Wally genuinely cares about James and James knows it, and knows that he can trust that, which is kind of amazing, on both of their parts. And I suspect that’s partly because Wally is the fun one, so he and James understand each other in a way heroes and villains often don’t.

Because being a superhero is Serious Business. Except when it’s really not. Because your supervillain is a guy just trying to live out the trickster archetype, and there’s a script for that, so hey, you might as well play along. It means people don’t get hurt, and it’s also just more fun that way. And when things do get serious, when your supposed nemesis is off his meds and needs a friend to remind him why he does need them, then you can actually be that friend without a lot of drama getting in the way.

Or, in other words: Nobody gets hurt, and that’s a really good day.

[ellana-ravenwood]

Don’t leave us... - Batsis x Batfamily (ANGST)

Would you look at that ? In the mood for a somewhat angsty story. Also, I promised more Batsis so...boom, here we are. Written in ten minutes (almost exactly) at 4 am so...UHUH. I hope you will still like it : 

You can find my masterlist here : @ella-ravenwood-archives

_______________________________________________

You didn’t intend for any of that to happen. It just...somehow did. 

If you had waited for him, you know it would have been too late.  

Damian was there with you but...there was no way you would have let him do this. Oh no. Not your precious little brother. 

You couldn’t bear it. Nor could you bear for your dad to do it really...

You know...You know it’s selfish. 

You can’t help but think that, at least, you wouldn’t be the one to suffer. You wouldn’t be the one with a bleeding heart...Yes. It’s totally selfish. 

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

************

You were at your mom’s place for breakfast that morning, and, half asleep in your bowl of cereal, you didn’t notice your phone buzzing over and over again. Your mother, not totally awake either, also didn’t hear a thing. 

Your nose buried in your fifth cup of coffee, you don’t even have the energy to ask your mom if she sent a message to your dad stating that you were home safe, as you forgot to do so the night before...Oh well, it wasn’t much of a big deal, after all, you were a grown up now, it’ll be alright. 

It’s only when your father bursts into your mom’s apartment, followed by your brothers, that you finally fully wake up, and that you realize that maybe, not warning your dad that you got home safe wasn’t alright. 

It’s true that, usually, when you go to sleep at your mother’s, you send him a quick text to tell him you’re safe and sound but...did he really have to break your mom’s door down ? 

No. The answer was no. Oh God, ever since you were born, he just always had to be so damn protective ! Sometimes it was great, but most of the times, it was just extremely annoying. 

And right now, faced with your rather annoyed face, cup of coffee still to your lips, Bruce Wayne, your father, kinda miss those days when you were a child and would run to his arms whenever he came to pick you up at your mom’s...

-Really ? 

Is all you say, and the look on his and your brothers face says it all. Yeah ok, they know they totally overreacted but...Well, you were the baby of the family. Even though you were a few years older than Damian.

It seemed impossible for your brothers to understand you weren’t a kid anymore...

-Hum...you didn’t text and I thought that...Hum...

Your mother rolls her eyes, and just returns to her breakfast. Here we go again. She lost count of the time she had to replace her front door because Bruce thought you were in some kind of danger. Because you didn’t return his call, because you forgot your “traditional good night text”, because he just had a gut feeling you weren’t alright, because he heard someone saying they’d hurt/kill you...Any reasons really, to come and kick her damn door in. 

She was used to it. And she had to admit, though now that you were past the age of a teenager you thought it was incredibly annoying, Selina thought it was quite...endearing. It always made her smile and warm inside. And usually, him being so worried for you, for their little (not so little anymore) daughter...well it was a sure way for their “on/off” relationship to be on again. 

Which was gross to think about for you and so, ignoring their “looks” toward each other, you raise to your feet and, with a kiss on your mom’s forehead you take your bag (that contained your nightly activities costume of course...well, it was hard avoiding said activities when you were the daughter of Batman and Catwoman), and leave, rolling your eyes some more as you can see your brothers kinda making sure you’re alright by looking you up and down...Damn those boys. You still couldn’t help but kiss all of them (including your embarrassed dad) on the cheek though. 

And with a last “see ya later mommy”, you’re out...unaware that there would never be a “later” for you...

************

You and your mom were rather close. She was often absent, and her need of freedom would sometimes come between you and her but...it was a good relationship. Though you had to admit it was more of a “best friends” kinda thing, than a “mother/daughter” one. After all, she was quite young when she got you and...Well, let’s just say she wasn’t always up to be a mom. 

A friend though ? Sure. 

But this “on and off” thing you had with your mom meant that you were extremely close from your dad. The man wasn't always the best to express his feelings, but he had always been here..unlike Damian, he had you since you were a baby, as your mom dumped you at the Manor one night, only to return on your third birthday after a “change of mind” (meaning : she realized that even though she was young and didn’t really wanna be a mother...well you were here, and she loved you of a deep feeling she just couldn’t explain...she needed you in her life, your were her flesh and blood, she...She just loved you, and that was that, even if sometimes she needed her space). 

Yes. Your father had been there since day one. So has Alfred. Dick arrived in when you were barely 4, and then...Well let’s just say you enjoyed a lot having older brothers. 

When Damian arrived, it wasn’t easy at first but...Well, you were brother and sister no matter what you could say, and it ended up just clicking (if you had known that he would have been so clingy by the way, always making sure you were alright and awkwardly hugging you...you’re not sure you would have let things click haha). 

He trained you since a very young age and you were as skilled as any of your brothers but...oh he wouldn’t let you go out before you reached the age of 12. 

You were so mad when ten years old Damian was out and hopping and fucking killing people and shit ! Until you understood that...Well, Damian wasn’t as lucky as you. 

When Damian got hurt, people used to tell him to suck it up, his mother used to tell him to not be weak, his grandfather used to tell him to endure it because one day he’d be King of the World...When you got hurt, Alfred would kiss your booboo and with a hug, all your pain would go away. 

You understood that you had different childhood (not saying that yours was easy...you were the Batman’s daughter, nothing could be actually easy). 

But still, you were a bit frustrated that he wouldn’t let you go out and fight for the city you so loved...It’s only when he created the League, and Diana told him that it was unfair to forbid you to do anything that finally, you were able to go and protect people. 

He would always make sure to have your back though, even if it meant sacrificing his own health for you...which always made you furious. 

Oh the number of scars your dad had on his body because he threw himself in front of you (or of one of your brothers really). And oh the number of time your bros got hurt as they jumped to protect you...Of course, you also had countless scars and got hurt countless time protecting them but...It wasn’t the same thing. 

You had less occasions to do so because they would never let you...Like, that time Jason took a bullet you wanted to take for him by...yanking you behind him as you were jumping in front of him. 

They were impossible really ! 

Couldn’t they stop protecting you for a second, and let you save their damn lives ? 

************

Your wish came earlier than you thought. 

As you were coming back from your mother’s apartment, still slightly annoyed at your family for being so damn protective, a very special phone beeped in the car. 

The League’s red phone (oh the endless joke you and your brothers made about that...a “red phone” ? Were those people a hundred years old ? ...Well...some of them were...). 

Your father answered, and Superman’s super-worried face appeared on the screen. Oh, this wasn’t just a small alert, you could feel it. Because if even Uncle Clark was worried...

Apokolips. 

When this word was pronounced, you shivered.

Oh this place always creeped you out. You’ve been only once, when you and the rest of your family were trying to resurrect Damian, and it still haunted you at night. This place really had a fitted name.

It was a living nightmare. A planet where only violence, despair and darkness prospered. And to know that, right now, they were about to attack Earth and destroy every living things on it ? Oh you were freaked out alright. 

But of course, it was only a matter of time before Darkseid would put his eyes on Earth, were so many people who challenged him lived on. And in your head, you often repeated to yourself that you’d probably have to fight those creatures from Hell one day but...You were so not ready. 

A hand on your shoulder, squeezing lightly, brings you back to reality. Tim. And with that simple gesture, you know you’ll never be alone, and you’re ready. 

************

You knew. You knew as soon as you saw your father running from the opposite side of the battlefield that he wouldn’t be in time. 

Where was a Flash when you needed one ? ...Out. They were all out. Wonder Woman was getting them out of there, back to the watchtower. The fight was almost done but...

Yes. You knew. 

Darkseid had not intention on invading Earth. Too much of a hassle. No, the guy must have watched a bit too much Star Wars as his plan was to simply use a weapon of mass destruction on your beloved planet. 

It wasn’t exactly a death star, but still close. It was a giant laser like weapon, but instead of completely annihilating the planet, it spread a deadly gas on it and...killed every single living things on it. 

Darkseid wanted to turn Earth into a second Apokolips. Wanted to spread his territory. But in order to do that, he had to get rid of everything on it first. Everything alive, to be precised. 

And oh how cliché for a superhero...The only way to stop this machine, was to jump in it and destroy it from the inside. But of course, doing that...you’d get killed. No matter if your name was “Superman” or “Green Lantern”, you’d die all the same. And even more cliché ? The one that was about to sacrifice himself was your father. 

But he was too far, and you knew that. You, however ? You just had a few feet separating you from the weapon, and only a few enemies in your way. You were about to lunge forward when...A hand grabs your sleeve. 

-I won’t let you do it (Y/N) ! 

-You have to Damian, it’s the only way ! 

-I’ll go instead of you ! 

-Yeah, like I’m gonna let that happen. 

-And like I’m going to let...

-I’m the oldest one Damian, it’s my duty to protect you. And if I don’t do this, billions of people are going to die Dams ! I have to. You know dad won’t make it in time, and I won’t either if you don’t let go off me. It’s charging right now ! 

Yes. It was definitely charging to be ready to shoot. But Damian wasn’t letting go of your sleeve, clinging to it like it was a lifeboat. 

-I..I won’t let it...I can’t...I can’t loose you ! 

It breaks your heart, really, to know that you will hurt him more than ever. If the pain he’ll feel will be just a quarter of what you felt when he died...Oh you wished there was another way. A way where you could all come home happy and alive...But there wasn’t. 

And he knew. He knew, as tears ran down his face, that you would never let him  jump in the laser, even if you had to fight him. He knew that if you did have to fight him, you’d win, and that the fight you had would probably make you waste precious time to save the World and...

Yes. The logical thing to do was to let you go, but...He couldn’t.

He couldn’t let you go. He couldn’t lose you. He couldn’t lose his beloved sister, the one that was always there to cheer him up, the one that understood he was a broken little boy that needed mending, the one that first, along with Dick and Alfred, showed him what love was really like, the one that helped him understand their father...His sister. 

His precious sister. 

He hated that his grip on your sleeve was getting weaker. But he knew he had to let you go. Because if he didn’t, it was going to be the end of all things...Oh but it would be the end anyway.

He knew that as soon as you’d save the world, as soon as you’d die for people that would never even know what you did for them...his heart would stop beating at the same time than yours.

Damian knew that, when your life would end, so would any trace of happiness in his being. But he had to let you go and, knowing he would forever have to live with the guilt of letting go of you, he releases your sleeve and...falls to his knees as he looks at you run toward the weapon. 

No creatures even attack him and, in a way, your little brother wished they would. He wished he would die too today...but he also knew that loosing both you and him would kill his father. And he knew that he would have to be there for him, because your loss ? It would be the worst. 

************

-(Y/N) W-What are you doing ?! 

You hear in your ear phone, the one connected to all your family. You thought you turned all the channels off, so that they wouldn’t try to convince you to stop, so that you wouldn’t be tempted to...But visibly, you forgot to turn off the most important one. 

Your father’s. 

-You know what I’m doing dad. 

-I forbid you to ! 

-You can’t, I’m an adult remember ? Besides, I have to. 

-No you don’t ! I’m almost there ! 

You can see your dad, right in front of you, trying to accelerate but...he’s already full speed. And so are you, with no intention of slowing down. 

You gotta do this. You gotta save the World. And you know your dad won’t make it in time...Every thing relies on you.

-(Y/N) please don’t do this ! 

His tone had changed. It changed from commanding to pleading. And once again, you could feel your heart broke bits by bits as you know this is inevitable, and for way too many times in his life, your father will once again have to live through the loss of someone he loved.

But you had to do this. 

-Please, please my little one don’t...

“My little one”. He called you like that since you were a baby. It was your favorite pet names, always made you feel safe for some reasons...But it didn’t stop your run. On the contrary, it only made each step stronger. 

You dodged many enemies, and didn’t falter once. 

-Please, don’t do this, please (Y/N) let the World burn, please, don’t leave me. You can’t leave me baby girl, you just can’t ! Please my little one, don't do it !

-You don’t mean it dad, you know I have to sav...

-I do mean it ! To hell with everyone else ! Don’t do this please ! Don’t do this ! Stay with me, with us, please ! Don’t go ! 

-I can’t let all those people die...

-Yes you can. Please don’t jump. Or wait for me, I’ll be in time, I’ll do it. 

-And then I’ll have to live without you...

Your in front of the pit where the weapon is. You can see what you have to destroy. But you stop for a few seconds, because you need to...You need to say goodbye. 

From where you are, you can see tears running down your father’s face, even through his breathing mask. You can see his steps getting weaker and weaker, but he doesn’t stop. 

-I have to dad. You know I do. Anyway, what will we do if there’s no world anymore ? We can’t live in the Watchtower just all of us together...

-Yes we can ! YES WE CAN ! TO hell with everyone, they’re ungrateful bastards anyway ! And I need you my little one, I need you (Y/N) ! Who’s going to keep me grounded ? Who’s going to make a snarky remark at me whenever I get too cocky or whatever ? Who’s going to hug my worries away ? Who am I going to tuck in ? What am I gonna do without your forehead kisses and your smile? Who am I going to go to to confess my feelings ? 

Your heart tighten. It’s time to jump. But he’s so close, oh your dad is so close...maybe you can wait for a last hug ? Or a last brush of his fingers on your cheek ? In the intercom of your mask, you can hear him continue, and you close your eyes as his voice, that you always thought soothing, resonates in your ears : 

-Who’s going to be my confident ? Who’s going to watch stupid movies with me ? Please (Y/N), please my baby girl, my little one, sweetheart, let me do this. Please just wait a little bit, I’m almost there, don’t do it please. Don’t leave us ! I love you (Y/N), I love you my little girl ! Please don’t...

It’s time to jump. You know it. No time for a last touch with your father, though he’s so, so close...He knows what you’re about to do, as he extends his arms in front of him, ready to grab you and put himself in your place. 

But he’d be too late. You just know it. 

His screams of despair and pain are the last things you hear, as you jump down and barely have the time to tear away the parts you need to destroy the machine. 

His screams. The screams of a father who just witnessed his beloved daughter die. His screams...The screams of a broken man. It’s the last thing you hear. And you almost regret doing it...but it’s too late. 

You wished you would have had time to feel his arms around you one last time. His protective arms. That were there for you all your life. That felt you grow and always loved you. But...There wasn’t any time for that. 

He wouldn’t have had time to save everyone. You tear away the parts, just as the machine was about to shoot, right on time and...Black. 

Everything is black. And you don’t hear your father’s screams anymore...

************

She didn’t utter a sound. 

She didn’t say a word. 

When your father arrived at her apartment, visibly shook to the core, bags under his eyes, puffy eyes as if he had cried for days...She knows. 

She knows what happened, and she doesn’t say anything. 

They stay like that for a long time, in front of each others. And they both know that from now on, their famous “on/off” relationship is definitely “off”. 

Finally, she moves. She calmly walks to him, and slaps him with all her might, to then say those simple words : 

-Get out. 

He knows. He knows what she’s thinking. 

It’s his fault. He’s the one that brought you there. He’s the one that trained you. He’s the one that allowed you to become a Robin, and then your own version of it. He’s the reason you died. It’s his fault. 

And so he leaves, without a look behind him. He leaves, to never ever come back to this place again. He ignores your favorite book half-read on the living room’s coffee table. He ignores your favorite plushy that you’ve had since you were born, and could never get rid off, laying there, forever alone, on the couch. He ignores your finished cup, your favorite mug, down in the sink. He ignores drawing you’ve made all over your years, and pictures of you and your mom on the walls...He ignores everything and “gets out”. Never looking back. 

And oh it was good that he didn’t look back, because the sight of the woman he loved (and would always love despite everything that has happened), down in a ball on the floor, crying silently the lost of their daughter...it would have been too much. 

************

It’s weird. A parent shouldn’t have to bury their own child. And yet...that’s exactly what’s happening right now. 

The entire league is here. Your brothers are here. Alfred too. And your dad. 

There is no speech. No one felt like they could do you justice with just words. There is no speech but a giant firework. 

You loved fireworks. 

Your father do not speak to anyone, and as soon as everything is over, he leaves. He cannot...He cannot do this. Too many losses. Too much pain...He clutches the picture of you he had on his nightstand, that he put right next to a picture of his parents, and other pictures of your brothers and..he doesn’t let go. He doesn’t let go for hours. And he would never let go of your memory. He keeps thinking that he’s going to wake up from a bad dream, that he’ll feel your little six years old hand on his face, squeezing it as you used to to wake him up, and that all that was just a nightmare. He keeps thinking that he’s going to wake up, and discover that he had a weird super long dream about a life that never actually happened. That little you is going to burst in his room to wake him up. That he was never going to train you, you were never going to be a night vigilante, you weren’t going to be on Apokolips that day and...Reality hits him right in the face. Without you, the World would have died. But...Why doesn’t that thought makes him feel better ? You saved billions of daughters and yet...he cannot for the life of him feel better about all of that. 

Because you’re gone. His little one is gone. Forever...

Alfred was devastated. Never ever again would he see you run down the Manor, be clumsy and fall, and ask for him to shoo your pain away with a kiss. Never again would you...nev...never...He can’t even finish his thoughts. Even in his own head he sobs uncontrollably. His little (Y/N) was gone. Forever. 

Your brothers are no better. If not worst. Especially Damian, because he let go of your sleeves. Dick, Jason and Tim try to console him but...he can feel in their voice their resentment, even though they’re trying to hide it.

They agree with him. It’s kinda his fault. Because he let go of their precious little sister. If it had been one of them instead...They would have hold on. 

But it wasn't fair to react like that, because he had lost a sister too, and he was so damn close from you...They all were. But Damian and you ? There was something special. And one day, one day they’d be able to tell him “It’s ok, it’s not your fault” and really mean it. But right now ? Right now they couldn’t. 

Because you were gone. Forever. 

___________________________

Hum...Yeah. Meh. Not enough feelings, I feel. Everything is going too fast Not sad enough, for the death of Batsis...Uh.. Also it’s 4 am. Good night, and sorry (cause obvs, I’m still posting this anyway). 

[fuck-customers]

I just had the WORST day at work and I really need to vent. This is probably gonna be pretty long, fair warning and apologies. So it’s always kind of a crapshoot when I first get to work, especially after having a day off, whether or not I’m gonna be grumpy first thing, mainly due to nothing being put away, no notes about ongoing things, no communication, that sort of thing. Plus people moving stuff around and that. Today wasn’t too, too bad, but then right off the bat started getting shitty customers. First there was some lady who was just dyyyyying to use some weird online coupon with no scan code--which, hey, that’s fine. I had called a manager over for an override already since we had manually marked down a product she was buying and I had to adjust it (as instructed) with the manager’s permission in the computer. Then, since he was already there, he handled the coupon thing (which I could have done  no problem but whatever) and even though I had told her at least twice we’d need to put in the coupon code (and thus need to keep looking at her smartphone where the coupon was) she put it away before he could finish entering the “event number” which is where the code’s supposed to go. He kind of muttered, “we’ll make something up,” and I replied, “use the date?” since there’s something else we do that for occasionally. He didn’t do that, fine, I didn’t care, but as everything’s processing, he says to me, “you have to stop doing that.” Slightly confused, I asked stop what? He says putting in the date for the coupon thing. All I said was, I don’t do that for coupons, I put the code. The date thing is for something else and I couldn’t even remember what it was since I’ve done it so infrequently, which I told him. He says there’s some report that says it’s been happening, and I said, well, it’s not me, man. Note that this “manager” is really only a supervisor, and not even my direct supe at that, and he’s also younger than I am so we kid around a lot, and I know for sure he didn’t care about me saying any of that stuff. However, the customer tells me I shouldn’t “argue” with my supervisor in front of customers. I wasn’t really arguing??? Just kind of defending myself lightly, and he wasn’t mad, I wasn’t mad, it wasn’t like a heated discussion or anything. I really had no response to her, so I said nothing. She waits a beat, then tells me how mad she’d be if one of HER employees did that. And I was like, so mad, though I said nothing to her, but internally, I was like, well I don’t work for you, you don’t know our policy, our personal dynamics, and it’s not like I yelled or swore or something in front of her?? Just said, hey I don’t do what you’re saying I’m doing, in a very casual way to someone who did not care that I said it.  SO that ticked me off, then I had a guy complaining that we didn’t have the same exact kind of BIC pens in black he’d been using for 20 years. I told him everything is controlled by corporate and we don’t know when or if something’s going to come back into stock, and it may well be that the company of BIC itself might be discontinuing that particular pen since they have been pushing their newer products pretty hard in-store and I wouldn’t be surprised. The box of blue ones he brought to show me what kind they were was the only box in the store left, so who knows? But he got all shirty and said they’ve been making them for 20 years and they wouldn’t just stop etc. etc. even though bruh, that shit happens all the time! And Bic has plenty of other kinds of pens to shill, so it is extremely possible, but whatever. Then I get a guy come up to the register with my co-worker, who sets down a printer without a word to me, and walks off. I was dealing with another situation at the same time, so I was trying to assess for a second what to do to best help everyone, and I decide I can ring this guy’s other, smaller items + the printer as I’m talking to the person I’d been speaking with immediately prior. Decided, I grab a package of pens he had and he turns his head and BARKS at me, “I’M NOT READY YET!” I immediately set his pens down and apologize, but he was right in the middle of the small counter I check people out at with a bunch of stuff?? Just standing there?? Like, no one else could’ve checked out until he moved???  Anyway, I go back to the first person, keep dealing with that, then see my co-worker return with a laptop, and the guy grabs his stuff, goes to the other register, and has my co-worker ring him through. And I knew he wasn’t like a friend of my co-worker’s or anything based on previous comments from said co-worker, so he just was waiting for the computer from lock-up. Like okay, but it only took a second to bring it out, and in the meantime I could have rang up his small stuff and bagged it, entered his rewards number, signed him up for a protection plan on the printer if he wanted it….there was absolutely ZILCH reason to yell at me for trying to deliver quick service?? So all night I just had these icky people being rude for no reason and I was kind of already bugged by it. Then, I go to put some stuff away from the returns bin which I normally can’t do as front-end but since we had an extra person tonight AND we were really slow, I could leave front-end to do it, and of course, I find like three aisles completely messy and a bunch more stuff out of place, and at this point it’s getting later in the evening and I had asked my co-worker earlier if the store needed faced, and he a) was like, I just faced it last night! (even though it’s supposed to be done daily AND it was like 6 when I asked so a lot of stuff probably had been messed up by then) and then b) said he’d do it before close, but then when I go to put stuff away everything’s still a mess and there’s not a ton of time left to do it PLUS I would have done it if he’d not said he would do it earlier (even though it’s not my responsibility as a cashier). On top of this, he and the other person who was training did some returns a while before I did, and a calendar I had handed to him to put away at that time (because he almost forgot to grab it) was just sitting on top of some random display of storage bins. So not one, but TWO of my fellow employees neglected to put away something they were supposed to, and had plenty of time to do so, and left it sitting out randomly, where I found it, and then I had to put it away. The real kicker is the endcap where it belonged was like maybe two feet away from where they had ditched it. Everything was just irritating me after that, but whatever, I was trying to soldier through. We just got a list of daily chores for each position that are supposed to be done, and I checked mine and it said remove cobwebs from entrance. So okay, I go to do that, and since most of the really bad cobwebs are way up high in the corners, and I’m not that tall and our broom is short, I was jumping up and down to get them, and I could both see and kind of hear my co-workers laughing at me--even though two of them are taller than I am and could have offered to help me, but nooooooo. Then, everyone else ordered in Chinese food without even asking me if I wanted anything, and then went to the manager’s office to eat it, once again (because this happens A LOT) leaving me alone to deal with every single customer that came through the place. Now granted, we were pretty dead, but that’s not always the case and it was just really aggravating that they just plain didn’t ask if I wanted food and then went and ate it without asking me if I was okay by myself or if I wanted some, or literally anything. Finally, end of the night rolls around, I go to clean the counters, and the brand-new bottle of 409 I had gotten store-used the last shift I worked (Sunday) was now (Tuesday) missing from where all the cleaning supplies are kept. I had no other cleaning liquids to use, and I was really annoyed that I couldn’t do what I am supposed to do because in the ONE DAY I had off it had disappeared, because of course, NOBODY PUTS THINGS BACK WHERE THEY GO WHEN THEY ARE DONE WITH THEM. So ofc, I start looking and it is NOWHERE. Checked every drawer and cupboard in the break room, both bathrooms, back in receiving, on the desks in the furniture area, and when I went to take out the garbage in the manager’s office, I checked the little cupboard in there and looked on the counter--nothing. I checked every register, on the tech bench, even went back to the print center and looked under all their counters--nothing. I checked the shelf against the inventory numbers to see if for some dumb reason it had been put back out. I asked my supervisor, who had begun counting out, to check the cashier’s office for me (since it’s locked) when he went in. FINALLY--after a great deal of rage and looking--I go back to the manager’s office to ask him if it was in the locked office, and I see it! It was tucked away next to a binder that was angled so I couldn’t see it where I was standing before, but saw it when standing perfectly straight across. So I hurry up and do the counters, and as I am, realize that three different people were in and out of that office all night, eating their fucking food and all, and everyone knew I was looking in a panic for the stupid 409, and not only did none of those fuckers even OFFER to help me look or actually help, none of them saw it in there all night?????? And I bet if they had helped me look one of us would have seen it sooner. And I have helped people look for things more than once--one time I went through garbages that had already been checked and found a key for another co-worker!!! SO at this point I have MCFREAKING LOST IT and since there’s no customers I’m ranting and raving to myself, but still out loud about everything. Everyone , as is their general habit, isn’t even listening or caring or anything. The last thing I did before clocking out was I had to take a returned printer to the damaged and defective product lock-up (which is different than our regular lock-up room) and so I ask over the radio to be let into both lock-up and dnd lock-up. Supervisor comes and lets me into regular lock-up, and even though he could see I only had very few things to put away in there, doesn’t wait for me so he can let me into the other lock-up. But I figure he’ll be there in a second, since I already told him I needed into both AND he was the one whom I had asked if the printer needed to even go into dnd lock-up, which he said it did. So I make my way back there, half-expecting him to maybe have already gone back in anticipation of my arrival, and he’s not there, so just in case he forgot, I radio him again to let me in. After a minute or two, with radio silence the whole time, I radio again, PLEASE let me into lock-up. After another several minutes, he finally comes and says, “oh did you radio me? I took my radio off! I was wondering where you went!” as if I hadn’t told him IN THE FIRST PLACE WHEN HE HEARD ME ON THE RADIO BECAUSE HE LET ME INTO REGULAR LOCK-UP I ALSO NEEDED INTO THE OTHER ONE. then, I go to clock out, and ofc everyone else besides me and the supe have left, and they didn’t even leave the clock-out window open for me, so I had to log all the way back in from the  customer portal to the employee one. Normally, that wouldn’t be a big deal or anything, but after this long whole night of shitty customers and shitty lack of consideration on the part of my co-workers the fucking LEAST they could do is leave the damn clock-out window open for a bitch.  I just can’t believe how fucking oblivious and self-centered and just downright RUDE people can be. I am not always the nicest person, but I try to do a good job and be a good team player and help people out when they’re clearly upset about something (i.e. the unnecessary search for cleaning products) and at least uphold the little social niceties like asking everyone before ordering food if they want!! It just rankles me really badly how things went tonight. I mean the crap from the customers, if annoying, is at least par for the course and could be overlooked, but when I get treated like that by my co-workers, it just sends me over the edge! How hard is it to not be a dick or to put things back where they go? Anyway, rant over.

TL;DR: customers are rude; co-workers are shitty; this girl loses her mind for a night about it.

[fishfingersandjellybabies]

Cut - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne Pairing: jondami Summary: Grief makes people do crazy and ridiculous things. Jon was just glad he could be there to help Damian through his. A/N: I don’t know why Super Sons today made me have a bunch of feels about baldy Bat!Damian, but it did. Based loosely on what I remember from the Batman!Damian comics, where he’s bald, Batman, and basically everyone he’s ever loved is dead and he like makes a deal with the devil or something. Both Damian and Jon are in their 30s and are Bats and Supes respectfully, and basically kind of alone. (if we’re going comics baldy damian we’ll go with the world is also pretty shitty too) We’ll say the baldness/haircutting is just kind of an impulsive reaction to being emotional, and like. He can’t stand being told of his similarities to the greatest men in his life, because he feels like he doesn’t deserve it. I think that comes across in the story, but if not. There’s the layman’s. 

~~

Jon watched the man sitting on the stool in front of the mirror. He was hunched, fingers twisted in his hair. Would probably try to rip it out soon, if Jon didn’t hurry.

“…You sure?” He asked as he walked in the room. In his periphery Jon saw Damian nod, but was too focused on the bruises and scars littering the other’s bare back.

“If you don’t wish to do it, I’ll do it myself.” Damian returned. He wasn’t harsh, but it was just as bad – because his voice was cold. Cold and emotionless, and it hurt Jon’s heart to hear him like that. Because it meant he was upset. Because it meant he was exhausted.

Because it meant he shut down, and sometimes Jon couldn’t reach him then.

“Oh no you won’t.” Jon hummed, waving he clippers in his hand. “Last time you ‘did it yourself’ you sliced half your head open. Remember how annoying it was, explaining that to both the press and the League?”

“Hm.” Damian sighed. When Jon was close enough, he sat up, staring into his own tired, bagged eyes in the mirror. Jon stood behind him, and gently carded his fingers through his shaggy hair.

“…And you’re sure.” Jon repeated. “Not even a buzzcut? Or an undercut?”

“Father had a buzz for a while. Todd had an under.” Damian shook his head. “Just cut it all.”

“…If you waited, you could grow it out to look like Tim’s.” Jon tried. “Or even Stephanie. She wore it long.”

“So did Gray…” But Damian couldn’t say it. Couldn’t even say his name, that’s how upset he was. He ducked his head back down, hiding his face in his hands. Jon carefully wrapped his arms around Damian’s shoulders, leaned against his back and kissed his neck. “…He had a mullet once upon a time.”

“Dad always showed me pictures.” Jon murmured carefully. “…He’d be proud of you, Damian. You know that.”

“…Please just cut it off.” Damian’s voice was muffled. “Every strand. Take some skin if you have to. Just get rid of it.”

Jon sighed, pressed another kiss to Damian’s ear, then stood to his full height, and turned the clippers on. “Sit up, handsome.”

Damian did as he was told, but kept his eyes lowered. His shoulders slumped. Jon didn’t comment on it – learned a long time ago not to. Not to push, Damian would say something when he was ready.

The only sound in the room was the buzz of the razor, and underneath it Jon’s light hums. Damian only moved when he was prompted by Jon’s fingers, turning his head this way and that.

“Is this close enough?” Jon asked, and it was the only time Damian looked up. When his head was tilted to the left, and most of his hair gone.

“Yes.” Damian whispered. “Thank you.”

Jon smiled at him in the mirror, and Damian’s gaze immediately dropped. Jon didn’t mind. He was used to it.

It wasn’t long after that he finished. He shut the clippers off and sat them on a nearby dresser, then grabbed the towel he’d already laid out, coming around Damian’s side. Damian’s knees opened, and he slotted himself between them as he gently brushed the cut hair away from his shoulders. When his bare skin was mostly clear, Jon raised the towel to his head, rubbing carefully at his scalp, then bringing it back around to hold Damian’s cheeks and lift his face.

“All done.” Jon smiled.

Damian smiled back but, like everything about him right now, it was sad. “…Guess I’m not so handsome now, eh?”

“Nonsense.” Jon promised, leaning down to kiss Damian’s forehead. “I think you’re handsome no matter what you do with your hair.”

Damian tried to keep the smile, but it was a losing battle. “Now I won’t sweat as much in the cowl.” He tried, but the smile was fading fast. Before it could disappear completely, though, he leaned forward, wrapping his arms around Jon’s waist, hiding his face in his shirt.

Jon just waited, keeping one hand on the back of Damian’s neck, using the other to stroke his head softly.

“…Someone said I looked like him today. They actually called me Richard twice before they realized their mistake.” Damian whispered. And here it was. “Then they joked that I’m starting to look more like him than my own father as I get older.”

Ah.

“…I miss him.” Damian breathed, squeezing Jon’s hips as tight as he dared. He pressed his face further into Jon’s torso, and Jon could feel him starting to shake. “I miss him and Father so much. I miss them all so much.”

“I know.” Jon finally returned. “I know you do, Damian.”

“Maybe I should try again.” Damian thought out loud. “Maybe I should try to make a deal again, with that spirit. He said he could bring them back. And I’ll give anything to-”

“Shhhh,” Jon cut off gently, curling himself over Damian’s head. “You know they wouldn’t want that.”

“I know.” Damian cried. “…I know.”

Jon uncurled, and smiled as he took Damian’s face into his hands again. Damian only hesitated, tried to keep his gaze down and his face hidden, once. For a second. Jon didn’t give up, just like he never did. And when Damian finally met his gaze, his grin widened.“…You know he’d be proud of you, Damian. Dick, Jason, Tim, your father – all of them. They were so proud of you and the man you became. Just like I am every day.”

“I don’t deserve it.” Damian wheezed. “I don’t deserve any of-”

“Shush. You know how I feel about that kind of talk. Don’t make me kiss it out of you.” Jon laughed, pulling back. Sliding his hands down Damian’s arms until he’d untangled from them and had Damian’s fingers in his. “Now come on. That newly-bald head of yours is going to get cold quick. We’ve gotta get you to the heated mattress pad and fluffy pillows, stat.”

Damian didn’t fight – just like he never did. Let Jon lead him over to the bed, get him down to his boxers and under the blankets. Jon got himself to a similar state – boxers and an undershirt – before joining Damian in the warmth of their bed, wrapping his arms around Damian’s shoulders, and letting the elder duck his face against his neck.

Jon closed his eyes. A moment of quiet.

“…Beloved?” Damian whispered.

Jon always loved that nickname. Smiled. “Yeah?”

“I didn’t mean it. When I said I’d give anything for Grayson back.” Damian murmured. Jon opened his eyes as he felt Damian shift to look up at him. He met the desperate stare. “I’d never give up you.”

“I know.” Jon smiled again. “Now go to sleep.”

Damian seemed to hesitate, before cuddling closer. Flopping a possessive arm around Jon’s hips. And Jon listened for a minute, then two, as Damian’s breathing evened out.

And without meaning to, he thought of his own family. His mother, who had died years ago, not long after Dick, but before Bruce. His father, who had distanced himself and disappeared in his grief, leaving Jon all alone.

Well. All alone except for-

“Damian?” Jon asked. Damian didn’t answer. But that was alright. Jon didn’t really want him to. He flashed a grin to the empty room, before closing his eyes once more, and leaning his cheek against the cool flesh of Damian’s head.

I’d never give you up either.

[lesserplaces]

Long time readers of LP will remember that this was once a hiking blog.

After a great many years of doing exceedingly stupid things outside, I decided it was time to start sharing it with you kind folks. This went well for for a while, until sometime in the middle of 2016 I started having real problems with my lower back. Being a Wilson, I promptly ignored all my bodies warning signs, powered straight ahead until after the Great Deer Hunt of 2016, when I collapsed with back spasms while putting Jack in the car. A quick drive to the hospital showed that I had herniated a couple of discs and had terrible arthritis, both of which contributed to crippling spasms that did not stop for more than a month. And so, as soon as I was walking without a cane, our little hiking blog moved to the slightly less arduous task of fly fishing.

A great many fish were caught over the proceeding year, and I loved every moment of it. To be frank, though I have fly fished my whole life, I truly fell in love with the sport over the past year and it will continue to be a big, if not the biggest, part of what I do outside. I was having a great deal of fun, but in the back of my mind there was always a lingering doubt that I would never be able to backpack again. I put out a couple of test balloons, one in the form of a day hike into Aravaipa Canyon, another with a no-frills overnight deer hunt, and finally around January I decided it was time. I was going to go backpacking.

I wanted to do something fun, different, a little brag worthy, but not necessarily killer. A great deal of time looking at a great many maps suggested a few good options, my favorite of which was a north to south bisection of the Superstition Wilderness from the Boulder Canyon to the Peralta Trailhead, with a stop off at Charlebois Spring. This would give us a 10ish mile first day through a reasonably rugged canyon and a 6-14ish mile second day, depending on route, and the bragging rights that come with bisecting a huge, rugged wilderness in a weekend. Padre decided to come along for the ride.

The Boulder Canyon Trail starts off as a climber, immediately working it’s way up from Canyon Lake, until reaching a ridgeline that begins what I call “The Superstitions Highlight Reel.”

With views of all the big western supes standbys, from Weavers Needle to Battleship Mountain, and reasonably easy going, the Highlight Reel is the quintessential desert hike. It is very pretty.

  Padre, because he is Padre, had brought every piece of gear ever invented. His pack looked heavy as we descended into the valley that we would consume the rest of our day.

As I always do before big trips, I had spent the night before studying our route. My Supersitions Map is a beloved old friend who has been on many adventures. Because it is old and has been on many adventures I love this map very much, and have used it far longer than I should have. This is dumb, and worst of all the area seen in the distance of the photo above is very hard to read from all the years of use. However, things seemed easy enough– we were going to get in the valley, stay in the valley, and follow it to either the end, where it meets the Dutchman Trail, or if we saw it a connector called the Cavalry Trail. This was both wrong and dumb.

Things went fine until at the bottom of the valley we reached an carin intersection, one with the trail going off and uphill to the west, and another, fainter one which stayed in the creek. Because I had memorized what I thought was the route the night before, we took a cursory look at the worn out map and stayed in the creek.

The path started out easy enough, with just some annoying creek walking. We were expecting to do about 1.4 miles in the creek, hopefully catching the Cavalry Trail along the way. Being in a canyon, sigthlines were poor and we were having trouble figuring out distance as our pace was slowed as we climbed over increasingly large boulders. The further we got in the worse things got, causing us to take off our packs and haul them up one at a time so we could scramble up the rock falls that were sometimes 10-15 feet high. However, at what I figured was around the 1.4 mile mark, I saw a large set of carins on the East side of the trail, which I assumed was the Cavalry trail. If this was the case we would have returned to a legible section of the map, so I pulled it out a took a look. I couldn’t see much since we were in a deep canyon, but things looked roughly correct. A bit of exploring revealed a worn, nearly imperceptible path, which is not uncommon for connector trails in this part of the world. Doubting our ability to overland should we get turned around, and still convinced we knew roughly where we were, Padre and I decided to stick out the canyon.

You are probably wondering why there are no pictures of this part of the trip. It is simple: we were miserable. The nice parts of the path were boulder hopping, and the bad parts were full on scrambling. Because I am a little bit better of a route finder than Padre is, I was on point, which meant constantly boulder hopping from one side of the creek to the other and back to try to find scramble which was within our (very limited) technical abilities. Eventually we ran into another set of hikers, a young couple who turn out to be the heros of this story. We asked where they were going, and they said the Cavalry Trail. I told them that I thought I had found it a way back, but that it didn’t look very reliable or passable. They looked confused, and I could tell The Navigator in the group thought I was wrong. We all decided to plunge forward.

Eventually we ran into a beautiful campsite with a nice water supply. We weren’t hiking together yet, but both of our groups joked about camping here, but said it wouldn’t be worth having to climb back through the canyon the next day. Ahead, we finally found some smooth walking. 

But it was ephemeral. Just ahead we found a deep pool that had to be waded. Padre and I discussed our options. We could wade through or quit and camp at the Calypso’s island of a campsite behind us, a place we could have stayed and been happy, but in doing so would have failed. We thought hard before pulling off our boots and plunging in.

In the pool the water was cold and the bottom was covered in slippery moss. I was barefoot, and I took up the strategy of sliding one foot forward until I found a crack in the rock which would stop the slide. I repeated this one excruciatingly slow step at a time, careful to be sure my weight never got ahead of me. Padre came behind in sandals, which didn’t even come close to countering the instability caused by his heavier pack. Soon we were across, shared a nervous laugh, put our packs on and kept scrambling.

The good news was that we had apparently passed the spring which was feeding the water in the canyon below, so we were done wading for a while. The bad news, as we would realize in a couple of hours, was that all the pumpable water was now behind us. With our water supplies beginning to dwindle, we were now fully committed. There would be no going back.

As we worked our way up the canyon, we ran into our accidental hiking partners a few times. They were in great shape and had light packs, but were still struggling. Padre had lost a sandal along the way and they had climbed down a small ravine to bring it to him. I decided I liked these people very much (Editor’s Note: A rare thing.) and our two groups did our best Only Revolutions impression for the rest of the day, yo-yoing back and forth across the canyon and helping each other with route finding and passing packs along the way.

Soon the canyon took an abrupt turn, and I finally realized something had gone terribly wrong. My map wasn’t great, but it clearly showed no turns like this. Padre and I stared at the map for quite a while, before our hiking partners caught up to us. The Navigator pulled out his phone, and showed us the route. We were going the right way, but still had a long way to go before we hit the trail. Looking at the map I just couldn’t believe it, so I walked back a ways looking for a spot where we might have missed the trail. There was none and the canyon walls were sheer. Right or wrong, there was nothing to do stick to the canyon.

As we pushed forward, the canyon became a marsh, with shallow, scummy pools on one side and large boulder falls on the other. Both our groups had no desire to walk in the swamp, so we made do with the hardest scrambling of the day, this time made worse by copious vegetation. In the summer, when all these trees are leaved I sure it is very beautiful and peaceful, but in the winter, while we pushed through about an hour of swamp, boulders, and lifeless trees, it had neither of these qualities. Instead it was humid and still, causing the sweat to pour from our bodies and fog our glasses. As the canyon opened up and the swamp disappeared under ground, we were beat.

Both our groups kept moving forward, each walking a couple of hundred yards before between breaks. The Navigator’s phone said we were close and as Weaver’s needle came in to view, far more westerly than I had expected, I finally began admitting to myself that I must have really screwed something up. Padre and I were sitting down for a break, when our hiking partners came up and pointed to a couple of carins.

“There it is, the Cavalry Trail!” they exlaimed.

“Wait, you mean Dutchman?” I replied.

“No, Cavalry. Where, exactly, do you think we are?”

What we had done was excruciatingly stupid and simple at the same time: we had missed our intended route by exactly one watershed. The reason we had made this mistake was even stupider and more simple: I had memorized the route incorrectly and in the confines of the deep canyon, with no sightlines to prove otherwise, I convinced myself that everything was alright. Instead of hiking up Boulder Canyon, which in the words of our hiking partners, “Is actually a trail,” we had hiked/scrambled/suffered up La Barge Canyon, which met the Cavalry Trail closer to our intended destination. Unready for a trip of this magnitude, and with packs weighted for a different kind of trip, our bodies were just about broken. I don’t defend any of this, but what happened happened.

Looking back on it, there were many clues. The Navigator and I had confusion all day when describing where we were, but we were both too polite to clear it up. The sudden turn in the trail should have been, and was, a dead give away that something had gone awry, but at that point we were pretty committed to the cause. To the eternal credit of our hiking partners, they were very nice about what was a deeply embarrassing situation for me, cheering me up with a “At least you did a way cooler hike.” Again, I liked them very much.

Despite years of travel in the most remote parts of this state, this is the first time I have ever made this kind of mistake. There is a lesson here, I’m sure, about the dangers of being convinced of something, about how when you are sure something is true you can ignore warning signs that are obvious and apparent. This is probably a particularly timely lesson for this day and age. But as we sat on the trail intersection completely out of gas and still miles from the nearest water source it didn’t matter. We parted ways, us heading for water and them still trying to decide what the best course of action was. I never got their names, but I wish I had.

After a couple of miles walking along the Cavalry Trail, we finally came to a literal sign of civilization.

We had 1.5ish miles to go before we hit camp, but we were moving slow. Padre and I shared the last of our water, and took of toward Charlebois. We stumbled along, deeply thirsty and very tired, having finally hit the phase in the day where you can no longer really think, no longer really talk, but you can keep walking. When we finally hit the spring, our motor functions were so far gone that both of us dropped a Camlebak into it’s murky waters. We pumped and chugged from our other bottles as fast as we could, immediately making our selves sick, before filling up for the night. Despite the fact that there were several other groups near by we camped not far from the spring.

Expecting another kind of trip, Padre and I had lugged in chairs, vodka, and tonic. As the sun set, we enjoyed these vestiges, tried and failed to eat, and hoped our hiking partners would walk by so we could invite them in for a celebration. They never did.

In the morning we packed up and made our way back towards the car. We didn’t feel great.

All night we had managed to only hold down some cheese, crackers, and a tiny bit of vodka. In the morning we hadn’t done any better. It was a fairly easy 6ish miles from Charlebois back to the car, but in our state in took an embarrassing three hours.

But we’d survived. And that was good.

“Car camping isn’t.” That phrase, made semi-famous by one of the best blog follows on the internet, Dave at Bedrock and Paradox, was the mantra and moral of the weekend. With everything we needed (Editor’s Note: and a lot more) on our backs, stuck in a canyon we had never intended to be in, with makeshift friends we had stumbled into by chance, and no feasible choice but to keep moving forward, our bodies ached, our mouths were dry, and our fingers bled. I try very hard to avoid the “Why do I hike” question that plagues outdoors writing here on LP, but as we lay in bed the first night wasted, broken, and unable to eat one thing was impossibly clear: It’s good to be back.

EPILOGUE

As a personal note, I would love to thank the great couple we met in Upper La Barge Canyon in person. I’m pretty sure I owe them a nice dinner or at least a good bottle of booze. If you know anyone who might be that couple (male, slight build with short light hair and very short beard, female, slight build with long dark hair, both soft spoken and tough) that was in that canyon on 17th of February, 2018, feel free to send them my way.

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Max Wilson is a graduate student studying ecology at Arizona State University. He writes here at Lesser Places, has occasionally written for Backpacker Magazine, Backpacker.com, and even more occasionally written for scientific journals. You can follow him on twitter @maxomillions.

Max bites off more than he can chew Long time readers of LP will remember that this was once a hiking blog. After a great many years of doing exceedingly stupid things outside, I decided it was time to start sharing it with you kind folks.