#when i saw him in suicide squad i was like

[bafvkun]

I just feel like talking about how deep Mikayu’s bound runs don’t mind me (HEAVY spoilers ahead).

Lets get this straight : i don’t care if you ship them or not (even if you would be a fool not to) but no one can deny that they’re literal soulmates and I’m gonna show you exactly why.

Yu and Mika were ALWAYS bound to find each other and reunite. I’m not saying that because I’m delusional it’s literally canon. Their relationship is as old as dinosaurs and once again : this is canon.

Yu (or should I say Mika but like whatever if you didn’t read the scans it would take an eternity to explain) was literally created for Mika. The sole purpose of his existence was to look after Mika and be his only friend. Since day one they were ment for each other.

They swore on every stars and defied fate itself that they will always found each other again no matter how many times they die or get taken away from the other in a way or another, no matter their race, age or era.

There I was talking about the first versions of them, but let’s talk about the main one, the one we all know in the anime and throughout the whole manga, Yuichiro and Mikaela Hyakuya.

Mika was the first one in this life to get Yu to open his heart, to make him accept his fate and push him to make the best of it. Yu was just a traumatized child that almost got killed by his own parents yet Mika made him feel like he belonged somewhere, he showed him that family wasn’t always meant to be bound with blood.

When Yu lost Mika it was like he lost all hopes, for the longest time Yu was suicidal, already from young age and this loss just made him feel so much worse. Yes the loss of his whole new family, including Akane and the kids was bad for him, but deep down what truly broke them was the loss of one another.

Years later they reunited, Mika like Yu both changed deeply because of their own experiences and yet their relationship stayed unchanged. Just the dynamic between them switched, Yu was now the one to convince Mika that he could trust his new family (Glenn and his own squad).

One day my mom told me « if when you reunite with a long lost friend and it feels like not even a day has passed, then it’s real friendship » and it’s been proven to me that this is true, Mikayu being yet another exemple of this.

As a vampire Mika doesn’t feel much anymore, it’s said loud and clear that turning into a vampire takes away from you any vulnerability, any love or lust. Yet Mika feels so vividly for Yu, it runs so much deeper than his own nature. His loyalty towards him is beyond any words could ever describe.

And it’s also so damn obvious how Mika is just so grumpy with anyone but smiles whenever Yu is around. He didn’t smile for anyone else than him throughout the manga, Yu is his literal everything, he is the only one that brings him peace and joy.

Now we skip forward a bit, Yu and Mika are in a deadly situation and against everything Mika dies. First let’s get the obvious out of the way, his last words were « Yu, I love you. ». I mean. There’s nothing more straightforward than that.

But then, when a vampire dies he becomes a demon, so of course Yu had to take him as his cursed weapon. So that’s exactly what he did, after so much struggle that I will pass here he finally got to talk with Mika and have a contract with him.

But the thing is when a vampire dies and becomes a demon he loses all his memories from his previous life, so Mika didn’t remember Yu at all. Yet, despite everything their bound didn’t die, quite the contrary. Even before they did the contract, so before Mika had access to Yu’s memories, there was still something inside him that screamed « that guy is important to me », even if he didn’t understand where it came from.

All the memories Mika had of Yu after that was again : from Yu’s own memories.

And what Mika saw broke him, the desire to die was so overwhelming even in his demon form he found himself speechless and hurt. He didn’t remember Yu but he knew that he was important to him more than he could ever tell. And he didn’t only see their memories together, he saw Yu’s whole life, the moment with his parents, the years they spent apart, Yu and Glenn’s relationship and his new family, he saw everything.

He swore his loyalty to him yet again, ready to do anything for him and face the end of the world hand in hand with him. And of course, even when he lost his memories Yu never once doubted him and that he would still follow him.

Now. I’ve been talking a lot about Mika’s love for Yu but what about the other way around ? Moving forward in the story again Glenn revealed something to Yu, his squad and Mika that left a dilemma hanging in the air. Yu had to chose between humanity and Mika. And what did he do ? He chose Mika, betraying not only Glenn, the man that save him physically and psychologically and that he respected the most in the world, not only his squad with who he shared ups and downs like a family but humanity itself for the survival of Mika.

If this doesn’t speak volumes to you I don’t know what will. Yu sacrificed EVERYTHING down to his own survival just to spend one more day with Mika. Now not only vampires, demons and angels were against him, but humanity too all for the sake of one man.

Both of them constantly put their whole life and universe on the line for the other and they always do it in a heartbeat, like any other decision would just be unthinkable.

They had so many discussions that made clear how deeply their feelings for one another go, no matter if you interpret it as brotherly or romantic love. They confessed to each other so many times how they can’t live without the other, how life is meaningless if the other isn’t around. How there’s not even a point in trying to live if it isn’t to face tomorrow together and how each other’s happiness is more important than anything else in the world.

Both of them held on solely for the other, both of them are still breathing and living their truth thanks to nothing else than one another.

Their love is so fucking beautiful and pure, it stayed untouched through generations and generations of them.

Mikayu is an amazing ship and anyone would be a fool to not read Seraoh of the end just to witness such utter and raw love.

[bones4thecats]

you can also do Orion pax/Optimus prime x cybertroniana reader, both were a couple before the war, and they still follow him on Earth

TFP! Optimus Having A Longtime S/O

Character: Optimus Prime (Transformers Prime) Requester: @zinnia1506 A/N: I love this trope. Just a calm and nonchalant boyfriend x his loving and slightly-feral S/O! Anyways, I hope you like this. ⚠️ Spoilers/Trigger Warnings for: The ending of the show and Predcons Rising Film ⚠️

Fun fact: I wrote this listening to Lion King/Guard songs😂

••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●••●•

»»——————————-　 Optimus Prime 　——————————-««

⚔️ Optimus doesn't have that many people left, at least people that he knows that are currently alive. He knew more friends were deceased than alive basically

⚔️ Though, he does have someone alive that he cares the most about; his adorable S/O. You.

⚔️ Meeting back when he was still Orion Pax and a young data clerk working inside of the Iacon and you were the current Grand Diplomat of Alpha Trion's rule as Cybertron's Council's head

⚔️ You had to deliver some information in pads to the place to get organized, and when the young bot smiled and allowed you inside to organize them to how Alpha Trion wished, you began to ask about his life

⚔️ As you began to speak from time-to-time whenever you visited with more classified documents, a bond was formed quick. While many solar cycles passed, the pair of young bots were ogled on by many elders, especially Orion's friend, Megatronus, and your boss, Alpha Trion

⚔️ You were there when Megatronus, now Megatron, was denied in favor of Orion. And you were right by his side when the war blasted off and you soared away with his small team to Earth in hopes of finding something to help with the war and your home planet

⚔️ And while you two would spend many of your days by one another, as the war progressed, that was becoming harder and harder. Thankfully, your teammates would get you two to spend time together by taking some work away from your servos

⚔️ Now, when it comes to missions, you guys almost always go together. Very rarely are you apart in battle. And whenever you go without him, he keeps solid contact with you, and whenever he doesn't get a decent reply, he gets worried beyond recognition

⚔️ During the time fighting against Megatron for the final time, you were help hostage with Ratchet. Being held not for assistance in finalizing the synthetic energon, but for your information on fixing Cybertron, in which you told Megatron to piss off and jump down a hole to a scrapheap

⚔️ Unlike Ratchet, you weren't given to Predaking to kill, rather, you were held in a cell surrounded by Vehicon soldiers. In a matter of minutes, you had gone from acting unconscious to wrapping your legs around on soldiers neck from behind and killing all around you. Think of that scene from The Suicide Squad (2021) when Harley broke out

(Here's a link for reference: Link) - warnings for A LOT blood and death!

⚔️ Optimus was very pleased when he saw both you and Ratchet okay, but when he saw a Vehicon attempt attacking you, he blasted him to the Well of the Allspark. Despite this, you fought brilliantly against the many soldiers against you

⚔️ You also showed a new depth of rhythmicity, from attacking Megatron from behind as Optimus took the front. And before you were knocked aside roughly and your sparkmate was hanging onto the Nemesis, everyone, including Decepticons, were shocked at how in-sync you two were. You really were sparkmates

⚔️ Bumblebee then killed Megatron, making you leap in joy and help him get your sparkmate up and onto the ship's base. You held the mech closely as you cheered with the rest of your team about the win against the Cons

⚔️ Throughout the rest of your lives together, you spent it fighting against Unicron. And while it was hard for you to say goodbye to your lover of many hundreds of years, you couldn't help but shed a tear when his red, white, and blue spark spun around you and acted as if he was pecking your forehead

⚔️ The others watched with smiles as you kissed the spark before watching it fly away. Ratchet patted your shoulder as Bee and the other, including Knockout, gathered around you in a large group hug. You were a family no matter what, thanks to the mech you called your one and only...

"I love you, Y/N..."

[bodegadulac]

So, third episode of creature commandos (Spoilers ahead):

●Loved the episode, i really did.

●G.I. Robot and his journey were really fucking good.

●Gunn making you care for a nobody yet again.

●The best kind of story you can give a war-time hero that only existed (in-universe and metanarratively) to kill nazis.

●What does someone like that do when the war ends?

●They get thrown around one place to the other (you can make a whole comparison to war veterans), the people who led him seeing him as something to be thrown away.

●At the end his happiest moments were killing nazis with his friends.

●I really expected the collector to have a "boy and his X" relationship with G.I.

●When they got into the car i inmediately felt the wiplash.

●I like how characters can actually die in the middle of the story. That was the only grip i had with the suicide squad (characters only die at the very beginning or during the third act).

●The montage was great

●Cheers to the tin man!

Now onto the main plot:

●Little happened really

●I'm iffy on weasel and phosphorus defeating Circe. Hope Gunn says some BS about her being nerfed for some reason.

●The princess may not be clayface (because i think i saw her bleed)

●I liked the emphasis on them being "monsters"

●Circe must not like wizard of oz.

Overal a 8/10 but the flashbacks carry the episode tbh.

[bakugoushotwife]

kinktober day eighteen: cockwarming kink

>>> idk why shiggy and cockwarming are like peanut butter and jelly to me...like i only have cravings for him when i'm deep in the caverns of my mental illness but...this is yummy? and i don't think it counts as cockwarming but shut up!!!

>>> starring: tomura shigaraki x curvy!f!reader >>> cw: cockwarming, established relationship, degradation, exhibitionism, fingering (fem receiving), p n v, creampie, implied multiple rounds. >>> wc: 3.1k >>> event masterlist

it was league tradition at this point. not even when the members were scattered to the winds to gather intel and work official villain business did the group miss weekly movie night. some members may or may not be there some weeks, sometimes you were all together, coupled off into platonic and romantic pairings to view whatever your leader picked out. whenever you were there, he let you pick, but it’s been quite some time since you’ve been back home. shigaraki regrets sending you so far out of reach. this assignment had taken you much longer than he would have liked, way longer. correspondence had grown slower, each message shorter than the last. you were tailing hawks to make sure he was trustworthy and it seems it was giving you a great deal of trouble. 

or maybe hawks was loyal to the heroes like shigaraki suspected and had gotten to you with his agenda, turning you into a double agent. well, no, that couldn’t be it. if that were so, you would do a better job of acting normal to keep him off your case. did you need help? no, again, he knows you would just tell him that too, so what was going on with you? were you mad at him? had he done something before you left? 

he thinks back a couple of months—the unbearable length of time you’ve been gone—trying to think of any reason you could be short with him. you didn’t have any big fights, he didn’t forget any anniversaries or special occasions, and he went easier on toga like you asked him to. the only possible thing he can think of is the fact that it was saturday, aka movie night, when you left— and he fell asleep watching the movie you picked—meaning he didn’t get to spend your last night with you or give you any goodbye-and-good-luck dick. he sighs aloud at the realization. you were absolutely petty enough to hold that against him, but he hoped you wouldn’t prolong your mission just to prove a point. 

this is the first time since the league started this little routine that he’s wanted to call it off. the rest of the league missed you too, if not because you were their friend, it was because tomura had grown so intolerable and irritable in your absence that they were begging nightly for your return. when saturday rolled around, and you still weren’t back, they watched their fearless leader sulk around like a kicked puppy all day. each member dreaded the nighttime. shigaraki was prone to throwing tantrums when he saw any of the league members get too friendly with one another in your absence, so it looks like they’ll all have to sit spread out for movie night. 

was he to be held accountable for the things he said and did while busy wallowing in his grief? some may say yes, but he was a strong believer in live and let live—you were certainly his better half. but you’ve been away for close to three months, and your effects are wearing off. he was incredibly snappy as he set the theater room up, the shitty little projector dabi stole was clearly running on its last legs. he was in no mood to pick out a goofy movie, not whenever he was wondering if you were even coming back at this point. he barked at twice to find something to watch—and the man was heavily influenced by toga’s opinions, so suicide squad seemed to be the answer. what a trash pick, he thinks. it’s why he’s in charge, and why only your opinions can influence his own. you would never have allowed suicide squad. 

that’s not the only reason tomura misses you, of course. he misses working on your own missions together, decorating the hideout to make it feel more like a home, the way you’d sit with him as he plays video games in his room, or how you two would cuddle as you’re falling asleep with his glove-clad hands all over you, and of course, your drooling pussy sucking him in over and over again. it’s been nearly three months since he’s gotten to see your face, inhale your familiar scent, or get anywhere close to cumming. he can’t even use his own hand anymore—you’ve spoiled him. he’s always been a shitty sleeper, too, but your body in his grasp was the magical cure—so of course he’s been getting next to no rest without you. he’ll never send you on a mission again. 

when he hears several bustling voices and a relieved “thank whoever put us on this flaming pile of shit” from dabi, he knows you’re home. mr. compress and kurogiri escort you into the movie room, where he waits for you. tomura nearly shouts, either at you for being gone so long or in relief that you’re finally home, he’s not sure. the corner of his mouth slides up in a reserved grin, but everyone can see the light return to his eyes. god forbid a world where you didn’t come back to him. 

“sorry i’m late for movie night everyone! i missed you!” you sing out to greet the room, but you’re only looking at your exhausted boyfriend. though he always carried a certain tired stress, he looked worse than usual, and you know that he hasn’t slept through the night since you’ve been gone. you’re on the love seat next to him immediately, jumping all over him and tightening your arms around his neck. his grin spreads, and kurogiri plays the movie to keep everyone else from having to watch in on your reunion and sickening love fest. 

he slides his arm around your back, humming sleazily in your ear. “finally. took you long enough, babe.” he huffs, taking that deep inhale of your sweet smell and sighing his relaxation quietly. his mood is relieved just by holding your frame and feeling your soft hair tickling his cheek. you giggle and sigh too, and he feels the weight of your body slump into his. 

“don’t i know it, was beginning to think you hated me for sending me out there for so long.” you pout, releasing him from your grip to gain sight of his face. he rolls his eyes at you, shaking his head with a tiny amused grin donning his features. 

“you’ll never leave this hideout again. i missed you.” he pinches some of your hair between his fingers and curls the piece around his digits as he looks over your face, gazing at your soft eyes and gentle lips, full cheeks, and everything else he’s missed for what feels like forever. you hum in intrigue at the ‘threat’ and kiss him. you can’t afford to go too hot and heavy with all your friends in the room, but you wanted your boyfriend to know you missed him just as badly as he missed you. your nights weren’t spent sleeping comfortably and every day you felt more and more lost without tomura’s logic keeping you on task. you nibble at his bottom lip, laving your tongue over him with a little moan. he grins, you’re the extrovert, but he’s not shy about making you noisy in front of the others. you feel him smile against your lips before he pulls away, trailing kisses over your cheek until he can bite the lobe of your ear. you gasp sharply, and he’s tossing a blanket over your hips for modesty’s sake. 

you smirk knowingly, lifting your skirt over your ass as the blanket falls in your lap. “oh so my little slut did miss me..” he whispers, licking over your jawline as he reaches under the blanket. the pads of his first two fingers swipe over you panties, tracing the outlines of your lips with a nasty little grin. he can feel your wetness pooling against the fabric already, your desperation making his cock rise against his sweats. he casts his eyes around to make sure no one’s watching, but he’s trained his league better than that. he slides his hand under your waistband, finding your clit automatically. you feel your stomach flutter in response to his touch, the fabric of his mostly fingerless gloves scratch against the inside of your thigh as he presses his sinewy finger in circles around your bundle. you fall against him, head rolling around on his shoulder within seconds. 

he knew you like he built you himself, and he knew that after a trip away—the both of you were insatiable—but you were all too easy to work up. you would tell him all about the mission later. there would be plenty to catch up on after he gives you all you’ve been missing here lately. tomura would be lying if he said that watching you stifle your noises and wiggle against the cushions didn’t affect him, his dick was crying for you. fingering you in front of the league was one thing, fucking you was another. but his body was growing too hot to bear, and he could tell from the need in your eyes that even having him inside you would relieve some of your ache. that should be fine, they wouldn’t look at you no matter what—they knew better than that, but he still didn’t want them hearing your sweet sounds. that was just for him. but with your hips bucking into his hand, and yours clamping down over your mouth as he shoves you over the edge with his fingers—he knows he’ll need to feel you. 

he’s pulling himself out of his sweatpants before he can argue with himself too long about it. his cock stands straight up in wait, and before you know it, tomura’s hands are on your hips and he’s pulling you into his lap. your brain was still mush, veins coursing with the pleasure of being reunited and under his spell. you were so focused on not making any noises that you didn’t even give your needy boyfriend a look of disapproval. he pretends like you’re the problem as if he would be able to sit here with his hands to himself, but you know the truth. shigaraki is just as helpless as you are, hence his finger curling around your panties and hooking them to the side so he can lower you on his waiting cock. 

he makes you sit all at once, and he clamps his free hand over your mouth before you can react to the stretch. then he snakes his arm around your waist, pulling you back to meet his chest. “keep quiet and sit still.” 

you nod vigorously, though you know you’re agreeing to something impossible. you were crazy with need, his fingers only unlocked the gate of your desire. you hadn’t had this dick in you for too long, and now that the length is fully sheathed in you—you’re ordered to sit still? it burns, your hole needed to be stretched back open to accommodate his sizeable length, long curved shaft angled just right against the spots you needed him most–but it wasn’t enough. you needed movement, you needed to hear him grunt and moan and speak unimaginable filth in your ear. you whine out softly, when the movie was loud enough you thought only tomura would hear.

he can feel you squeezing, and despite his orders, you wiggle in his lap irregardless. he should have known you wouldn’t be able to handle obedience after so much time apart, but it’s nothing he can’t remind you of. truth be told, he’s losing his cool too. he missed your wet cunt gripping him like this—how could he be angry at you for needing him so badly when he’s no better? he couldn’t, really, he could only be amused with your affection for him even if it assuaged every worry he had about you leaving him all that time you were gone. his hands dig into your fatty hips to use them as his own personal stress ball, kneading and squeezing on his whim. he can feel everything, every nerve on his body was acutely aware of every labored breath you took and each pound of his heart. he didn’t know if he could be strong much longer—and he knew you wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut. 

“you guys have your own room—why do we have to suffer through this?” dabi huffs out, clearly aware of what was going on in the room. twice clasps his hands by his cheek, disagreeing with his teammate. 

“young love! they just missed each other! at least he isn’t pout—” 

“out.” tomura hisses, cock jumping from knowing you were caught. you just clamp around him in answer, just as shameless as your boyfriend. “don’t speak—get out.” 

the other members gave mixed reactions, some rolled their eyes and huffed their way out the door, the others chuckled knowingly—they would rather deal with this shigaraki than the one that misses you any day of the week. when the door shuts and you two are left alone, a mixture of fabric and skin taps against your jaw. tomura held your face in his grip, fingers dancing along your bone in a teasing way. 

“my slut forgot how to listen, hm?” he asks rhetorically, sliding his grip to your neck. he squeezes with just the right amount of pressure to make you dizzy and open your mouth—though he can’t see your skanky face right now. you’re lucky he was just as needy right now or he was liable to leave his dick in you until it went soft without ever moving—but tonight? tonight he needed to reclaim his slutty little cunt until the sun came up. 

“been so long since i had to take orders.” you huff, maybe you were annoyed with him after all. 

he snickers. “attitude, little slut.” he says with a harsher squeeze to your neck. tomura can’t deny his entertainment–you got your nickname from your neediness, after all. “are you really mad at me?” he asks, and you know he wants a real answer. 

“annoyed—why’d you want me gone?” you huff, and he angles his hips up into you without warning. you gasp sharply at the stab, leaning forward to hold onto his knees. 

“didn’t want you gone, brat.” he sighs, letting off your throat in favor of holding the natural handlebars of your curves as he pushes your back forward to watch his dick plow in and out of you, his grip your only guidance. your moans start immediately, and he can’t help but smirk. “you’re my right hand, you’re the only one i can trust with some shit.” 

you purr at his explanation, bouncing along him on your own accord. he’s massive, filling every gap your pussy had to offer unapologetically. he presses against the entrance of your cervix without any movement at all, much less the animalistic style your boyfriend liked to fuck in, it was brutal. but so so good. it burns and sends shooting yet blissful pain through your body with every stroke, you slip forward a little, growing unable to hold yourself up. he grabs a fistful of your hair, pulling you back up without remorse. 

“where you going, slut?” he teased, slamming up into you. it was unfair, he was gifted with such a huge dick he didn’t even need a good angle to absolutely wreck you. he was mesmerized by the sight of your cute little hole puckering around him, swallowing him whole and letting him slide back out. you would squeeze down with every thrust, making him slow down to pull himself out and speedily shove back in. “can’t even take good dick anymore?” 

you mewl out in response, your fingers digging into his thighs as your back arches deeper, only encouraging your boyfriend to speed it all up. it’s like you can feel him in your throat, your entire body being used and abused by the man you missed desperately. shigaraki treats you like his prized treasure any other time, but especially after a trip away—you love being his slut. you moan and through your ass back, making him groan out at the conflicting paces. 

“so nasty. fucking you stupid and look at you—like a bitch in heat.” he chuckles, though it’s all so pornographic to him. no other pussy in the world would feel like yours, your cute clamping and sticky wetness could never be beat. and your insides practically beat into the shape of him, he knows no other dick would have your toes curling as you bounce  and squeal. 

“tomura—” your breathy moan makes his balls hurt. he didn’t care how quickly he came this time. he’ll keep you spread open all night until he’s satisfied with the amount of cum seeping out of the hole made just for him. he wanted you to cum twice as many times as he does, so your sweet moan of his name and your fluttering pussy only tell him to snake his arm around your hips so he can rub your puffy clit again. he loves these gloves you got him, the mesh fabric makes it easier for him to feel everything without fear of quirk activation. he can feel your pulsing need under his fingertips, and he smiles at your sensitivity. you were such a gift to a man like him. 

“what? use your words.” he huffs in disinterest, though you know it’s anything but. your gut lurches, feeling like you stepped on an escalator that was moving too fast. 

“wanna cum, can i please, tomura?” you ask sweetly, calling his name just how he liked and everything. he had every intention of drawing this out—but he supposes he can have that during your next round. 

“do it now.” he orders, gruff voice telling you that there would be no punishment if you didn’t—unless you considered taking him all night a punishment. the sound of him groaning and feeling your body made it easy to follow his orders, your hips still even as his continue their assault. you shake from head to toe, the orgasm so intense after such a long time without cumming on his cock. you squeeze down so hard he sucks in a deep breath, knowing he was going to shoot his load like mount vesuvius. you hum happily, wiggling back on him to milk all the warmth he gave you. he slows his hips to a stop, panting only a little as he pushes you carefully off his lap and onto the love seat. “want to see my slut’s nasty faces this time.” 

he grins as he spreads your legs again, ready to stain the cushions beneath, when someone knocks at the door. twice pounds on the frame again, pouting. 

“can you guys at least pause the movie?” 

[luxu1230]

Top Gun Maverick AU in which Jake knows sign language and Ice miraculous lives (let's say his wife dies instead)

Jake "Hangman" Seresin doesn't make it known to others he knows sign language and why should he? It doesn't impact his job as an aviator and it's not like he's around people who need it.

Well that was before he met thee Tom "Iceman" Kazansky.

////

Jake knew how to sign before he was even able to walk. Having a parent and siblings who are deaf will do that. He was born to a Father who was deaf and a Mother who was in the Navy. Growing up meant he had to know sign language with a mother who was hardly ever around even when she was back home on the ranch they had in Texas he needed it so he could communicate with his dad.

The only time he ever properly saw his mother was when she was on her paternity leaves for the twins (Michael and Johnathan) who were born deaf and the youngest (Lily) who could hear. After that they barely ever saw her as she was "Too busy trying to move her career along" (and isn't it funny that in the future the son she ignored managed to get a higher ranking than she would ever get).

So he had to step up. He was 5 years older than the twins and 11 years older than his baby sister and he knew his dad was struggling. So he helped teach his siblings sign language, he made sure that Lily didn't turn into one of those little brats he saw at school who thought they were special just because they fit within the norm of human society. And if he sat down with his dad when he was 18 and told him he was going to enlist so they wouldn't have to worry about money (since his mother never seemed to help out with her salary). His dad broke down crying telling him he hopes his son would return (That's when Jake finally settled in his heart, that woman was not his mother). So when he joined he made sure that every leave was spent with his family and he could never regret it even if his leave synced up with her's.

/////

Fast forward a few years and it's after the suicide mission that his sign language comes into use.

What's even funnier is that this story goes down in the history of how one Jake Seresin gets promoted at the same time as getting two Naval legends to finally realise their feelings for each other.

////

It was after the mission and everything was left in the past between Jake and Bradley. (Yes he can call his boyfriend by his real name NATASHA. No calling him by his Call Sign is not foreplay BOB). So he's surprised but not surprised when the squad gets a permanent home at Top Gun as a specialist unit with the help of Admiral Kazansky and phtff Admiral Mitchell (Thats a funny story within itself but that's a story of another time).

So to celebrate they all get smashed at the hard deck and if he's sat cuddled up to Bradley in a booth as Ice and Mav talk with Ice using a text to chat on his phone he can't help but notice every time Ice signs 'i love you' to a complete and utter oblivious and confused Mav. He can't help but sigh as he feels Bradley trying not to bust out laughing as Jake had done the same thing until Bradley came up one day and shoved flowers into his chest and signed it back his face red.

So he grabs Bradley's hand and stands up at the end of the table. Looks Mav right in the eye and goes "He's signing he loves you dumbass" and drags off a wheezing Bradley behind him leaving Mav stuttering and Ice blushing. He barely remembers the rest of that night.

So he's presently surprised that after a week he gets a call saying he's getting promoted to Captain due to his great service to the country. He can't help but sign in exaggeration as Bradley bursts out laughing when they find out Mav was the one who promoted him.

And if he proceeds to go up the ladder with his husband by his side and realise that when he reached Admiral he reached a rank his mother could never reach by ignoring his family. Who knew hiding his sign language would get him this far.

(if anyone would write this I would honestly love to read it)

[drabbles-mc]

All Settled

Rick Flag x F!Reader (past: Rick Flag x June Moone)

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo square: caught in a storm

Warnings: 18+, language, pining, arguing, light angst

Word Count: 3.1k

A/N: They're aruging, they're pining, they're stuck in an airport together. We love to see it! also idk i might write more for these two eventually I'm not sure i just don't know but there are Vibes i might explore later lmao

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @artemiseamoon @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

It was perfect, really. Not in the way that it was good, but in the way that it happened and all you could do was laugh, shake your head, and think to yourself, “Of fucking course.”

“This funny to you?” Rick asked, clearly not as amused as you as he dropped his bag to the floor with a loud thud. It wasn’t nearly as loud as the clap of thunder that sounded right before he’d spoken to you, though.

“I mean,” you said with a shrug, also letting your bag slip down off your shoulders, albeit with less drama, “it’s a little funny to me, yeah.”

He shook his head, scuffing the toe of his boot along the tiled floor. You could tell by that and the tightness of his jaw alone that he was fighting the urge to punt his own bag across the floor. “Glad you think so.”

You didn’t let it faze you—Rick and his short fuse weren’t anything new to you at this point. “Yeah, because getting mad about it like you are seems to be so much better.”

He opened his mouth to fire back at you, but he stopped himself when he saw the traces of amusement on your face, that you were just going to take whatever he said to you in that moment and flip it right back onto him. You were one of the few people in the world that he would request time and time again to assist with Task Force X whenever he could, whenever he got enough leash to bring in an extra body on his side of things. But it didn’t make him any less annoyed with you in moments like this.

“Don’t get your panties in a knot, Flag,” you said as you dropped into one of the many empty chairs behind you. Lightning flashed outside, bright light coming through all the airport windows for a split second. “We’ll be outta here first thing in the morning.”

He shook his head, trying to figure out if he wanted to pace and be angry about the situation, or sit down next to you and be angry about it instead. His exhaustion won out just enough to get him to sink down into the chair beside yours.

“Made it through all that shit, and we get stuck on the layover. That’s,” he shook his head, “that’s just…”

“Perfect,” you finished for him with a laugh. You looked over at him, watching as he shook his head and tried not to look like he wanted to laugh right along with you. “Look at the bright side,” you stretched your legs out in front of you, crossing one over the other, “least we didn’t get stuck in this storm with the rest of the team.”

The sigh he puffed out turned into a laugh, shaking his head as he thought about the scenario you’d just put into his head. “Fuckin’ A.”

“Exactly.” You let your head drop back to rest against the top of the seat. You stared up at the ceiling for a few seconds in silence before saying, “We should’ve gotten a hotel room.”

Now it was his turn to laugh at you. “Seriously? We’ve been stuck out,” he gestured vaguely, not wanting to say exactly where even though there weren’t many people around, “you know, and you’re gonna bitch about sleeping in an airport?”

Turning your head to look at him, you raised your eyebrows and replied, “I’m off the clock, Rick—I’d like to sleep in a real bed if at all possible.”

He chuckled, shaking his head at you. “Poor thing,” he mocked.

You laughed, elbowing his arm off the rest that separated your chair from his. Like he had any right to give you grief about complaining at this point. “Fuck you.”

Neither of you said anything for a bit after that. The two of you sat there in your insanely uncomfortable airport chairs, with posture that wasn’t fit at all for the caliber of soldier that the both of you were. Both of you were watching the few people who were stuck at the airport with you. Your flight had been one of the last, but it seemed like a couple others that were scheduled to leave late got pushed off until the morning. No one was dedicated enough to getting a hotel room to go outside in the rain and wind to get a cab. So you watched everyone putting together makeshift beds of their own out of their luggage, draping themselves across chairs. Whatever it took to be at least mildly comfortable.

You’d been still and quiet for so long that Rick thought that you might’ve fallen asleep. Tilting his head, he glanced over at you to find you very much awake. Your eyes were fixed on the small cluster of people who were at the gate across from yours. Among them was a woman with two children, young enough that they thought this was all so fun and exciting.

“Why do you always say yes?” he asked you, watching you as you watched everything around you.

Your face contorted in confusion but you still didn’t turn to face him. “Hm?”

“When I put in the request for you, why do you always say yes?”

You chuckled, finally facing him. “Why do you keep requesting me?”

“’Cause I know you won’t let me get shot.”

You laughed at that, trying not to be too loud as everyone continued to hunker down to go to sleep. “Yea, I guess that’s fair.” You pulled your legs up, feet resting on the edge of your seat as you wrapped your arms so that your hands interlocked and rested on your shins. “Maybe I just like making sure you don’t get shot.”

He smiled, a tiny grin that was briefly illuminated by another strike of lightning. “Can’t like it that much.”

You arched your brow. “Want me to start saying no? Leave the big bad Colonel all on his own?”

He shook his head at you. “Not what I said. I just, I don’t know.” He crossed his arms, letting them rest over his stomach as he looked at the same place you’d just been looking. “You always seemed like you were looking to settle down. This,” he laughed, “this shit ain’t settled.”

You hummed in amusement as you nodded. “It’s not.” You paused. “I’m just, I don’t know, guess I haven’t really found someone to settle with yet. Not gonna give this up with no reason to.” You waited for him to look at you. “Lucky for you, though, huh?”

He nodded, gave you a quick smirk, but he didn’t say anything else in response. You couldn’t tell if there was more that he wanted to say. Either way, it didn’t matter much. He sunk down a little farther in his chair, long legs stretched out in front of him. The heel of his boots rested just on the far side of his ridiculously large duffle bag, ensuring that no one would be able to try and snatch it without him noticing. You shook your head at the precaution—it didn’t seem like anyone in present company was going to want any of his fatigues and t-shirts that hadn’t been washed in a week. You let him have that, though. You watched as his chin dropped and tucked towards his chest, eyes falling closed even though he probably wouldn’t actually fall asleep for a long time.

“Think you’re ever going to?” you asked, propping your chin on your knees as you did.

His eyes were still shut as he asked, “Ever gonna what?”

“Settle down?”

His eyes slowly opened, muscles tensing as he processed the two-word question. “I don’t know.”

You were nearly kicking yourself for ruining the moment. Things were fine. You didn’t have to pry, but you did it anyway. You just couldn’t let things lie—it was a habit you always meant to work on and never got around to it.

“Sorry,” you said, your voice tentative in a way that it hardly ever was with anyone, least of all with Rick.

He looked at you, brows meeting in confusion. “For what?”

You knew that answering the question was just going to dig a deeper hole, but you also knew that you weren’t going to be able to ignore the question, either. Stubbornness was one of the traits that you and Rick shared.

You shrugged, wishing that you could pull your legs in farther, make yourself smaller and disappear out of this conversation. “It’s not my business. I know that…it’s just…I know since June you sorta just—”

“Got it,” he cut you off.

You fought the urge to sigh with everything in you. You were annoyed with yourself, but you were annoyed with him too. “Right.”

There was just enough of a shift in your tone to keep him hooked into the conversation, even though it was evident that neither of you wanted to continue it. “What?”

You shook your head. “I’m not doing this with you, Rick.” He went to try and argue but you kept talking before he could. “You don’t wanna talk about it so we’re just, we’re not gonna talk about it. Forget I fuckin’ said anything.” There was a long stretch of silence and before you could use any impulse control you said, “But to be fair, you asked me first.”

He sighed. “We doin’ this right now?”

“What this are you referring to, exactly?” you snapped, voice hushed. The rain beating down and echoing against the roof helped to hide some of your conversation.

“Since when do you wanna talk about that? About all my shit? About, about June?” He hesitated on it but he still managed to get the question out. You couldn’t remember the last time he actually said her name.

You were too caught up in your frustration to empathize about it though. “Are you serious?” You let your feet drop back to the floor, adjusting yourself in your chair so that your entire torso was turned and facing him. “You’re gonna sit there and pretend that I’m the one who never wanted to talk about it?” You scoffed. “Fuck’s sake, Rick. The only reason I found out the two of you broke up in the first place was because Boomer made some asshole comment and you nearly tossed him out of the helicopter. You have never wanted to talk to me about all of that. About anything, really.”

Rick’s fists were clenched at his sides, trying to keep himself from getting too defensive but you weren’t making it easy for him. You never did. He didn’t make it easy for himself, either. “Hey—”

“Actually, now that I think about it,” you cut him off, “you never talk to me about anything outside of work. You know all about me, but I don’t know shit about—”

“That’s not true,” he interjected, voice firm enough to give you pause. “That’s bullshit and you know it.”

Your shoulders slumped in defeat at that. He wasn’t wrong. But you weren’t completely wrong either. You both knew plenty about each other but there were always a series of walls that Rick kept up, ones that you never got around to building for yourself. Moments like that made it hard not to feel the distance.

“Whatever,” you finally said, not wanting to give in and actually tell him that he was right.

He was still shaking his head at you as he went back to staring at his boots. “Don’t know why you care so much anyway—not like you ever liked her.”

“What? I,” you sputtered as you shook your head, “I had no problem with June. What are you talking about? I barely even knew her.”

It was true. Outside of the events of Midway City, you had next to no contact with June. Rick was pretty much her sole protective detail, hence how the rest of their entire situation played out. You were part of his team that time around too, although despite being his right hand, you were far from the top of his priority list the way that you were all the times after that when you guys handled ops together. But that was the only time you ever really spent around June, and to say that you really spent it with her would’ve been a stretch even under the most forgiving circumstances. But still, you never had a problem with her.

He let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a chuckle—either way it was full of attitude. “Right.”

You huffed, shaking your head. “Fuck you.”

You angled yourself away from him, turning your body so that you were facing forward again. Part of you wanted to get up and walk to another part of the airport. It would’ve been pointless, though. In just a few more hours the two of you would be sitting next to each other on the plane anyway. There was no escaping him until the trip was over. For a split second, you let yourself indulge in the thought that maybe next time you’d say no when he asked you to tag in.

“Should’ve gotten out when she did,” you mumbled.

You heard the sound of his clothes rustling as he turned to look at you. “What was that?”

You didn’t hesitate, not looking at him but speaking just a little louder, and a whole lot clearer. “I said you should’ve gotten out when she did.” You turned and looked at him, wanting to hit him with the full weight of what you were going to say next. “Maybe then you’d still—”

“Don’t fuckin’ go there,” he said, tone low but brimming with anger.

You rolled your eyes, slumping back against the chair. “Yes, sir.”

There were only about ten seconds between your response and him speaking up again, but those seconds felt like hours to Rick as he tried to force himself to just be honest instead of angry for once. Or at least be honest while he was being angry.

“It was because I wouldn’t give it up,” he finally said, bitterness coating his voice.

Your face scrunched in confusion for a moment before you turned your head to look at him. “What?”

“She left because I wouldn’t give it up. She wanted nothing to do with any of it after everything that happened. I got that. She was just waiting for me to walk away from it too.”

“You got into this shit for her—why didn’t you walk away?”

“Think Waller was just gonna let me walk?”

You shrugged. “Not at first. But she’d get tired of fighting you eventually.” You paused. “She probably would’ve ended your entire military career though.”

“Yeah,” he scoffed, “no thanks.”

“How long did it take her to realize you weren’t gonna quit?” you asked, figuring that if he was gonna open the door you might as well take a peek inside.

He shook his head. “Longer than it should’ve for someone as smart as she is.”

“Love makes you stupid.”

He let out a laugh, one that was one part sadness, one part humor. “Yeah, it does.”

“I’m sorry.”

He shook his head. “Don’t be. Not on you.”

“You really love this shit, huh?” you asked, really processing the full weight of what he was telling you. Rick had turned his whole life on its head to save June. He said it himself that she was the only woman he’d ever really cared about. From the way he was acting during everything leading up to what happened at Midway City, you were certain that he would’ve done anything for her. But apparently not.

If he laughed you couldn’t hear it over the rumbles of thunder. “’Bout as much as I hate it.” He looked over at the windows for a moment, able to see the rain pelting down in the dark, then he looked back at you. “Stupid, right?”

You chuckled quietly. “That’s how you know you love it.”

“What’s your excuse, then?” he asked. “Because I know you sure as shit don’t love this.”

You rolled your eyes, smiling in the hopes that it would hide all of the thoughts that were racing through your brain because of his question. “Just an adrenaline junkie now, I guess.” You looked over at him. “Regular military ops just don’t do it for me anymore.”

He was slowly starting to let the tension drop out of his shoulders, his guard slowly coming back down as the both of you began to get back to some sort of common ground. “That’s it, huh?”

It wasn’t the time to get into it. It probably wouldn’t ever be the time to get into it. “That and, like you said, someone’s gotta keep you from getting shot.”

He was shaking his head at you, but at least this time he was almost smiling while he did it. The two of you had always had that going for you—no matter how quickly things tensed up between you, you usually managed to cool back down almost as quickly. Some of that was from all the years and hours you’d spent together, some of it was because in the situations you found yourselves in out in the field, there was no time for grudges so it was best to just let shit go if you could. But for yourself, you also knew that there was an element of not wanting to hang onto that, not with him. It’s why you’d always say yes when he asked you.

For a few seconds it was quieter than it had been. The rain lightened enough to not be echoing as it fell against the roof. The thunder and lightning subsided, and the conversation between you hit a lull. So when Rick cleared his throat, it seemed louder than it really was.

You turned to look at him and found him already staring at you. You raised your eyebrows, silently prompting him to say whatever it was that he was gearing up for. His brows scrunched for a split second, a final hesitation but he was still going to go through with it.

“We’re…?” he trailed off, his tone enough to fill in the rest of the question for him.

You smiled, nodding. “We’re good. Don’t worry,” you shifted in your chair so that you were leaning against his side, your head resting on his shoulder, “I won’t leave you hanging next time you call.”

He chuckled, wanting to shake his head and come back with a snarky remark, but he didn’t have it in him. Tilting his head, he looked over at you and for the first time in a long time, he felt a pull of something deep in his chest. A feeling that he wasn’t sure he could afford to put too much stock in. He let his head drop to rest against yours. “Thanks.”

[sashi-ya]

𝐓𝐎 𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐈𝐍 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 kuchiki byakuya x reader ⟢ mini story // poem

I wrote a certain poem while ago, and I could never forget about it. it was called "𝑨 𝑺𝒐𝒖𝒍 𝑭𝒆𝒍𝒍 𝒊𝒏 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 𝑾𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒂 𝑯𝒖𝒎𝒂𝒏" and it was about exactly that. This post is kinda like a continuation, maybe, of this story with Byakuya being the soul.

tw: be aware of mentions of death; maybe suicide intentions? i'm not sure why this might be a metaphor for it? so, please be aware of it if you are sensitive to those topics. In any case it is about a human and a Shinigami Byakuya falling in love and the implications of not being able to live together.

wc: 499

At first you thought it was your imagination. Maybe because of how much you missed him, maybe the need to see him again… but then, Byakuya couldn’t stay away from you…

“What are you looking at, (Name)?” one of your classmates asks, catching you squinting your eyes to see if that man of black, long hair was indeed Byakuya.

“Uh… I thought I saw someone I know… outside” you murmur, paying zero attention to your professor blabbering.

“Honey, you might need to rest… there is nobody there”

Not to you, human… “seeing ghosts��� might be a quirk you are sometimes blessed with, and sometimes… well, not that much.

Soon enough as the class was over, and that Shinigami still waited outside, you picked everything up and ran downstairs.  Acting as if there were nobody there -trying to behave and not to jump into his arms- you whispered “follow me where nobody could see us”

“I came to check on your welfare” Byakuya solemnly states -gives an excuse to his need for you-

“My welfare?! Byakuya haha!” you chuckle; the orangey tints of a fall sunset kiss both of your skins.

Campus seems to be lonely; people have already run back to their rooms and houses; Friday is finally here.

Your hands slide from his broad shoulders, tangling with silky raven hair until they land right on the back of his neck.

Byakuya purrs to your touch; no matter how tough he likes to act, your graze is the captain’s kryptonite.

“I couldn’t reach out to you; nobody knows what’s been happening with communications through Dangai” he informs you.

“I thought you were busy… I am a simple human, and you are the captain of the sixth squad of the Gotei 13” you mutter, getting drunk on his perfume… what a weird thing to say, you are able to smell a ghost’s flesh.

His deep blue eyes drifted away from you; sadness imbued on his frown. The word “human” breaks his heart when it is used to describe you… what a terrible faith Byakuya holds, love is always so short and forbidden for him.

“What is it? Aren’t you happy to see me, Byakuya?” you ask, well aware of his grief but still acting silly to it.

“Just… come here”

Ah, short words. But painful lips, painful eyes, painful hearts.

His kisses feels like a balsam made of autumn berries, of pink pearls and honey and cinnamon. So soft, so sweet. “Can we spend the night together?” - “Only if you take me with you tomorrow morning” - “You know I can’t do that… I am here, now… please”

Oh, to fall in love with a ghost, to be alive, so alive… With blood running through your veins, with a heart pumping it away.

Take me with you, take me there;

A body that’s not meant to be a jail, holds the soul of a human trapped inside.

Bones, flesh and blood; In soul I am yours, in body… not at all.

[thecountesstribe]

HOTD Ep 2x7 Spoilers and review.

So this was one of my favorite episodes this season and also one of the coolest imo.

Seasmoke being protective of Addam and looking proud he terrorized Addam into being his rider was too funny. I love that dragon 😂. Come through Addam the Loyal, all Rhaenyra had to say was she's queen and he immediately acknowledged her and bent the knee, I loved that. He's really about to become my other favorite boy.

Corlys being shook and acting like he doesn't know Addam, like sir if you don't tell the truth already. He's never gonna beat the deadbeat allegations. Although when he told him “Well done” I did whoop a little. I would've kicked his ass had I been Addam though.

Oscar Tully! That's it. That's the fuckin post. He gagged Daemon and stood on business. I love to see young kids bullying arrogant adults, he reminded me of the OG lil boss Lyanna Mormont. That's my lil nephew now.

Daemon didn't take the crown. We saw him hallucinating again, this time with the sick version of Viserys and Viserys holding the crown which he didn't take. I mean anybody with a brain could summarize that he never wanted the crown, we didn't need to spend so much time in his delusions in Harrenhal to tell us that. We certainly didn't need a scene of him feasting on his mom to tell us that, yuck. For all his faults he really was about his family. He went about it the wrong way but that's Daemon for you. His stupid self destructive ass.

We had an unnecessary scene of Alicent running about the woods after leaving King's Landing. Chile anyways. Larys is totally protecting Aegon now and he's essentially crippled atp. I fear for Baela's storyline.

Rhaena is looking for Sheepstealer. Her and Jeyne are still tussling but they waited until the final 2 episodes to give her something, Baela had no lines besides looking pretty and staring at Jace. I fuckin hate it here. Could we bully HBO AND THE WRITERS SOME MORE. WTF!!

Vermithor and SilverWing looked so cool. What did that old bum feed Vermithor though? He's big asf. SilverWing just might be the coolest looking dragon. I can't rank them anymore cause I like them all 😭. Literally my favorite thing about the episode. Like the directors cooked. The dragons are funny asf 😂😭😭😭. There were a lot of parentage reveals, I don't believe for a second Saera sired that ugly man but anyways. RhaeRhae led those people to their deaths. Rhaenyra deadass gave this big ass pep talk, she reminded me of Erwin before he led the scouts out on what would be their suicide mission except she didn't stay to see the outcome or participate in it. Vermithor saw an opportunity for a buffet and took it, Hugh claimed him. Fuckin cinema. Still gonna hate his bitchass but I can't lie that was badass. SilverWing was bullying Ulf. Why do people I hate always win sometimes?! Ulf literally failed upwards. Can't be mad at it. I mean if I was a dragon I would've done the same shit. How dare mediocre specimens come before me who is essentially the next best thing after the Gods!

We got Rhaenyra speaking High Valyrian. She had her dragon squad quit on her though and gave her a warning (foreshadowing). Her also being able to calm Vermithor, that's the Dragon Queen of her era y'all. We saw a little movement with her and her protective spoiled cat Syrax too 😍.

Not people hating on Jace now. Listen that argument has been brewing since season 1. He just finally let it out of his brooding body. I don't think many people understand the implications that argument meant. He sounded classist and maybe he was, highly doubt he is but he's being realistic and in the future he was proven right (unless they scrap the book canon). Rhaenyra paralleled Viserys in that entire scene. She really is her father's child in some ways. She did to Jace what Viserys essentially did to her. The one thing that could've upheld his ascension to the throne was him having a dragon and she essentially gave a free pass to anybody to do the same, the same thing was done to Rhaenyra when Viserys decided to marry Alicent and sire more children when he knew damn well that if he had a son, her claim to the throne would've been compromised. Jace knows he's a “bastard”, a legitimate one but a “bastard” ntl (I'm not calling him a bastard in a derogatory sense either, he isn't. Laenor claimed them as his sons and that's the end of it to me) , it shouldn't matter considering the throne is not passing from his father's side but his mother's. Sure his last name would've changed the minute he was named heir and ascended as stated by Viserys but what weight does that hold now? They briefly touched on it when he spoke to Baela about his fathers but he had always been insecure about his parentage. No he didn't call his mother a whore, he's been fighting that battle all his life, she just made it worse. In the dire situation they're in, the sacrifice had to be made but I could understand why he's angry and hurt over it again. She literally just made him illegitimate in the eyes of the realm. His anger is valid. Was his tone harsh yes, try dealing with the whispers and the jeers and everything else for the past 16 years of your entire life and seeing the same proof of what everybody else sees everyday and tell me that you wouldn't hold some kind of resentment towards it. I liked how Rhaenyra was patient with him though, just wished it wasn't as rushed as the scene felt.

The last shot of the episode was fuckin brilliant. Aemond turning his bitchass around knowing he can't handle that kinda pressure. Also Vhagar and Aemond's bond may not be as strong as it should be. She clearly does not listen to him sometimes. He's still responsible for Lucerys death IDC what y'all got to say. The episode got a 4/5 stars from me just for the dragons. I'm here for Jace, Baela, Addam and the Dragons!

Until next week guys for the finale. We're going to see Tessarion and Sheepstealer next week. I'm so excited.

[artyandink]

amoralism | fourteen

SUMMARY: You and Dean Winchester are the top agents from Major Crimes. You’re also assigned as partners on the same case- a crime syndicate is running loose and buying out most of downtown New York. He hates you cause you hate him. You hate him cause you think he got in his position with his daddy’s influence. But this case is personal to one of you more than the other- and you may be getting too personal for comfort.

TW: Dean’s the mole, the Sucide Squad formation and it being a train wreck, a bit of family problems, angst

SERIES MASTERLIST

Song Inspo: Tears of Gold - Faouzia

chauvinism

The mission had been in the works for two long, grueling weeks, and it still felt like a long shot.

You, Sam, Bobby, and the so-called "Suicide Squad" had spent hours in the Bureau's underground briefing room, a place so buried under layers of concrete and steel that cell reception was a distant memory. The air inside was thick with the smell of stale coffee, sweat, and stress—everyone had been pulling double shifts, and no one was more wired than you. The clock was ticking. Dean’s files were being held under lock and key by Raphael Deacon, the Director of the FBI, and a man with more power than the President on his worst days.

But the files—Dean's files—were the key to everything. They held the proof, the answers. The only way to clear Dean's name or understand why he had betrayed you all. You needed those files, and there was only one way to get them: a heist.

It sounded absurd, like something out of a bad spy movie, but it was the only plan anyone had that made sense. Bobby had been pacing the front of the room, whiteboard behind him filled with diagrams, maps, and hastily scribbled notes as the rest of the team crowded around.

“We go in quick, we go in quiet,” Bobby muttered, pulling the cap off a dry-erase marker with his teeth and slashing another line across the board. “We got exactly one window where Deacon’s gonna be out of his office, and that’s when we make our move.”

You leaned back in your chair, arms crossed, trying to ignore the tension building in your chest. You’d been part of risky ops before, but this? This was borderline suicide.

“You really think we can pull this off?” you asked, glancing at Sam next to you. His brow was furrowed, a hand running through his long hair as he scrutinized the plan for any weakness.

“We don’t have a choice,” he said quietly, eyes meeting yours. “It’s the only way we find out what’s really going on with Dean.”

His words weighed heavily on you. It had been weeks since you last saw Dean, and the encounter had shaken you to your core. You hadn’t spoken to anyone about it—especially not Sam. You swallowed hard, pushing the thoughts of Dean to the back of your mind. Focus. You needed to focus.

Across the table, Charlie Bradbury was furiously typing away on her laptop, her fingers moving faster than you thought was humanly possible. “Okay, okay, I think I’ve got it,” she said, her voice cutting through the room. “I’ve hacked into the security system. We’ve got a thirty-second delay between when a breach happens and when it gets reported. That’s our window.”

John Winchester, his arms folded over his chest, grunted from his spot near the back of the room. He hadn’t said much throughout the planning—just his typical gruff one-liners about security, strategy, and how this was a fool’s errand. But when he spoke, everyone listened.

“And what happens if we miss that window?” John asked, his voice low, but enough to send a ripple of unease through the group.

“We don’t miss it,” Bobby snapped, glaring at John. “We can’t afford to miss it.”

Rufus Turner, leaning back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table, gave a lazy grin. “Oh, this is gonna be fun. Haven’t done a good ol' heist in years.”

Next to him, Agent Jack Kline, the youngest member of the team, looked more nervous than excited. He had the look of a deer caught in the headlights, but he was trying to mask it with a look of determination.

Mick Davies, sharp as ever in his suit, spoke up next. “What’s our exit plan? We can’t just waltz out of the building with federal files in hand. Deacon’s got eyes everywhere.”

Bobby paused, pacing again, his boots heavy on the floor. “We’ll split up. Create enough chaos that no one knows what’s happening until we’re gone. Charlie, you’ll jam the internal comms, give us time to slip out without alerting the entire Bureau.”

Garth chimed in, tapping his chin. “And what about disguises? We can’t exactly stroll in looking like this.” He gestured down at his casual clothes.

“That’s where I come in,” Mick said, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. “I’ve got some connections. We’ll have uniforms. FBI suits, maintenance workers, delivery personnel. The whole nine yards.”

“Sounds like a damn circus,” you muttered under your breath, rubbing your temples.

Bobby shot you a look. “We’re working with what we’ve got.”

The plan was as convoluted as they came—deceit, manipulation, distraction, and everything in between. There was no room for error. One slip, one wrong move, and the entire operation would be over before it even began. But you were in too deep now. Backing out wasn’t an option.

The day arrived sooner than any of you were ready for. You could feel the tension in the air as the team gathered in the Bureau's underground garage. Everyone was dressed to play their parts—uniforms, IDs, all fake but polished enough to pass a casual inspection.

You tugged at the stiff collar of your maintenance jumpsuit, feeling out of place but determined. Sam, standing next to you, adjusted the lapels on his fake FBI suit, his eyes scanning the group.

“Everyone know their role?” Bobby asked, his voice hard as he gave one final look at the team.

Charlie was the first to respond. “I’ll be in the van, controlling the security feed and hacking the system as we go. If anything goes wrong, you’ll know because all hell will break loose.”

John, dressed as a janitor, grunted his agreement. “I’ll make sure the halls are clear.”

Garth, in his delivery uniform, gave a thumbs up. “I’m your distraction. Trust me, I’ve got this.”

Mick and Jack were already in character, blending in seamlessly with the handful of actual Bureau agents milling about the garage. It was showtime.

The mission began like clockwork. Mick and Jack were the first inside, walking through the front entrance with forged IDs and briefcases in hand. They passed the metal detectors, nodding at the guards with an air of confidence that only agents from another division could pull off.

Meanwhile, you, Sam, John, and Garth entered through the back, where maintenance workers were busy hauling in cleaning supplies and equipment. John’s hard glare kept anyone from asking questions. The man had a presence that made you glad he was on your side.

Charlie’s voice came through the earpiece in your ear. “Alright, you’re clear for now. Thirty seconds until the first security sweep. Move fast.”

Your heart pounded as you made your way through the narrow back corridors, trying to keep your footsteps light despite the rush of adrenaline in your veins. Sam was right behind you, his eyes darting between you and the path ahead.

As you rounded a corner, you caught sight of Raphael Deacon’s office—a heavy wooden door guarded by two agents. Garth was already in place, wheeling a large cart of ‘deliveries’ toward the door. You watched as he fumbled with the boxes, pretending to lose his balance.

“Oh no, shoot! Sorry, fellas, can you give me a hand here?” Garth asked, flashing his best disarming smile.

The guards, caught off guard by the seemingly harmless delivery guy, bent down to help him, just as John slipped past them into the restricted hallway unnoticed.

“Ten seconds,” Charlie’s voice warned. “You better move fast.”

John reappeared moments later, his expression tense as he gave the signal.

The door to Deacon’s office clicked open.

Inside, Raphael Deacon’s office was as imposing as you expected. The walls were lined with bookshelves, legal documents, and awards, but the real prize was the locked cabinet at the back of the room. Dean’s files were inside. Somewhere.

You rushed to the cabinet with Sam while John kept watch. Time was ticking. You grabbed the small lock-picking kit Mick had given you, your fingers trembling as you worked the lock. The seconds felt like hours as you concentrated, sweat beading on your forehead.

“Come on,” Sam muttered beside you, glancing toward the door.

Click.

The lock gave way, and you swung the cabinet doors open. Inside, stacks of files lay neatly arranged, but it only took you a second to spot the one marked with Dean’s name. You grabbed it, stuffing it into your bag just as Charlie’s voice cut through the comms again.

“We’ve got a problem. Security’s onto us. They’re not buying Garth’s act anymore.”

“Time to go,” John grunted, pulling you and Sam toward the exit.

The building was already buzzing with movement as you slipped back into the maintenance hallways, but just as planned, the chaos was enough to keep most of the agents off your trail. Garth had done his job.

Back in the garage, Charlie was already in the van, her fingers flying across her keyboard. “You’ve got maybe thirty seconds before they realize what’s missing. Let’s go!”

Everyone piled into the van as it sped away, the sound of sirens blaring in the distance. You sat back, heart racing, the weight of the stolen file heavy in your hands.

It was a victory. But as you caught Sam’s eye, you both knew this was just the beginning. The contents of the file would tell you everything—or nothing. Either way, there was no turning back now.

The mission was chaotic, convoluted, and dangerous. But somehow, against all odds, you had pulled it off.

Now came the hard part.

The adrenaline from the mission was still pumping through your veins as the van sped down the back roads, far away from the FBI headquarters. Charlie, behind the wheel, navigated the narrow streets with sharp precision, while the rest of the team sat in tense silence. The stolen file, Dean’s file, sat heavy in your lap, the weight of its contents unknown, but it was the key to everything.

You looked over at Sam. His eyes were fixed on the folder, a mix of worry and determination etched on his face. Bobby sat across from you, arms crossed, looking out the window. John was muttering to himself in the back corner, probably going over every tactical mistake you all might have made. Garth, still in his delivery uniform, was looking out the window with a goofy grin as if the whole operation had been some kind of field trip. Mick, ever the polished MI6 agent, looked almost too calm, while Jack sat quietly, fiddling nervously with his hands.

The van rattled as Charlie took a sharp turn, and you tightened your grip on the file.

“So, what now?” Charlie asked, glancing at you through the rearview mirror. “We just crack open this bad boy and hope for the best?”

“Yeah,” Bobby said with a grunt, shifting in his seat. “But not here. Too many eyes around. We need a safe spot.”

Sam finally spoke up. “We can go to my place. Jess is out of town visiting family, and it’s secure.”

You nodded. “Sam’s right. Let’s go there. We can regroup, figure out what’s in this file, and plan our next move.”

The ride to Sam’s place felt longer than it should have, despite the fact that it was only about twenty minutes away. The tension in the van was thick, and you could tell everyone was on edge. After the chaos of the heist, it was hard to believe you’d actually pulled it off. But as much as you wanted to feel victorious, you couldn’t shake the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach.

Dean was out there somewhere, possibly on the run, possibly still with the syndicate. Or worse, maybe he was exactly what the files would say he was. The thought sent a chill down your spine. After everything, after all the years you’d known him—had Dean really betrayed you all?

Charlie pulled up in front of Sam’s house, parking the van in the driveway. Everyone piled out, and you all made your way inside. Sam’s place was quiet, almost too quiet, the kind of stillness that made the atmosphere feel heavier than it should’ve been.

Sam locked the door behind him, and the group settled in the living room. You sat down on the couch, the file still in your hands, and the rest of the team gathered around.

Bobby leaned forward, eyeing the file like it was some kind of dangerous artifact. “Well, kiddo,” he said, looking at you, “you gonna do the honors?”

You glanced around the room, feeling the weight of everyone’s anticipation. Your hands shook slightly as you undid the clasp on the folder, opening it to reveal the contents inside.

There were several thick documents, each stamped with confidential seals and the unmistakable insignia of the FBI. You sifted through them quickly, scanning for something, anything that would make sense of this madness. There were surveillance reports, witness statements, memos—all detailing Dean’s activities over the last year.

Your eyes caught on one page in particular, a detailed report from Raphael Deacon himself. You skimmed it, your pulse quickening as you read the words:

"Subject: Dean Winchester – Special Agent, suspected mole within the FBI, believed to be in contact with syndicate leader Lucifer. Operative is highly skilled, with extensive knowledge of Bureau protocol. Unclear how deeply involved he is with the organization, but intelligence suggests infiltration may have been premeditated…"

You swallowed hard, passing the page to Sam. His brow furrowed as he read it, a deep frown forming on his face.

“This doesn’t make sense,” Sam muttered, flipping through the pages. “Dean wouldn’t do this.”

John scoffed from the back of the room. “You sure about that, Sam? People can change. And sometimes, they don’t turn out to be who you think they are.”

Sam shot him a glare. “Dean wouldn’t betray the Bureau. Not like this.”

You stayed silent, your mind reeling as you tried to make sense of everything. The reports, the surveillance footage, the classified memos—they all painted a picture of Dean as a double agent. But something wasn’t adding up. Dean was reckless sometimes, sure, but he wasn’t a traitor.

“We need to dig deeper,” you said finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “There has to be something we’re missing.”

Charlie leaned over, scanning the files over your shoulder. “There’s a lot of redacted information here. They’re definitely hiding something.”

“Could be a cover-up,” Bobby mused. “Deacon ain’t exactly a trustworthy son of a bitch.”

“Then why’d Dean run?” Jack asked, his voice quiet. “If he’s innocent, why hasn’t he come back?”

The question hung in the air, heavy and unanswered.

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “But I don’t believe for a second that Dean’s in on this. Not fully.”

Sam’s jaw clenched, and you could see the conflict in his eyes. “We need more information. Something solid. These files... they’re not enough.”

Mick spoke up for the first time in a while, his voice smooth but thoughtful. “Perhaps there’s a lead we can follow. If Dean’s gone dark, there must be a way to trace his movements. Off-the-books contacts, safe houses, something he would’ve used to stay hidden.”

Rufus, who had been oddly quiet until now, nodded. “Dean ain’t dumb. He’d know how to cover his tracks. But he might’ve left a trail for someone who knows how to look.”

You stood up, pacing the room as the ideas swirled in your mind. Every second that passed felt like you were running out of time, like Dean was slipping further away.

“Charlie, can you dig into these files, see what’s been redacted and maybe trace where this intel came from?” you asked, knowing full well that if anyone could break through encrypted data, it was her.

She gave you a thumbs-up. “Already on it.”

Sam rubbed his eyes, the exhaustion evident on his face. “We should keep looking for leads, but I agree with you. Something’s off about all of this. Dean wouldn’t just run unless he had no other choice.”

The thought of Dean being out there, alone, possibly in danger, made your heart ache. You hadn’t been able to shake the feeling that there was more to this story. But the mission wasn’t over yet.

The prison was cold. It always was. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones no matter how many layers you wore. As you made your way down the long, sterile corridor, your footsteps echoed against the hard concrete floors, bouncing off the walls in a rhythmic, lonely sound. The guard leading you said nothing, his face impassive as he swiped his keycard to open another set of heavy metal doors.

It wasn’t your first visit here. You’d been coming to see Eleanor, your mother, for weeks now. But no matter how many times you passed through the gates, through the searches and the checkpoints, it never got easier. You felt the weight of it all pressing down on your chest with every step you took.

And today, it felt even heavier.

Your mind was a whirlwind of questions, of uncertainties. The mission had been chaotic, the files had been convoluted, and worst of all, Dean was missing. A mole. An alleged traitor. But none of it made sense. None of it fit with the Dean you knew. You hoped that your mother, with her past connections to the criminal underworld, might be able to shed some light on the situation.

The guard finally stopped in front of a small, enclosed room—a visiting room. "Five minutes," he said gruffly, as though the kindness of a full hour was something prisoners rarely deserved. He unlocked the door, then gestured for you to enter. You nodded and stepped inside.

Eleanor was already sitting at the table, her hands folded neatly in front of her, her expression as calm and composed as ever. She had that air about her, even in prison. A woman who had lived through chaos and come out the other side unbroken. Her hair was pulled back in a tight bun, streaks of gray more prominent now than they had been the last time you saw her.

When she looked up and met your eyes, her face softened, just a little.

"Hey, kid," she said, her voice carrying a warmth that you hadn’t expected.

"Mom." You managed a small smile, pulling out the chair across from her and sitting down. You placed your hands on the table, feeling the cold surface beneath your fingers, trying to gather your thoughts, trying to figure out how to start.

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The silence wasn’t uncomfortable—it never had been with Eleanor. She was patient, observant. She had a way of waiting you out, of letting you come to her when you were ready.

You glanced up at her and took a deep breath. "I need to ask you something."

Eleanor’s eyes narrowed slightly. She tilted her head, her hands still resting lightly on the table. "What is it?"

"It’s about Dean," you said, the words feeling heavy as they left your mouth.

Her expression didn’t change much, but you could see the flicker of concern behind her eyes. "Dean Winchester?" she asked slowly.

You nodded, your heart racing. "Yeah. There’s been… something’s happened, and I need to know if he’s involved with the syndicate."

Eleanor blinked, clearly taken aback. She leaned back in her chair slightly, her eyes scanning your face for answers that weren’t yet spoken. "Dean?" she repeated, almost incredulous. "Dean Winchester is involved with the syndicate? The same syndicate I used to run with?"

"That’s what I’m trying to figure out," you admitted, your voice quiet. "There’s a file, reports… all pointing to him being a mole inside the FBI, working with them."

Eleanor looked at you for a long moment, her gaze unblinking. And then, almost abruptly, she let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "No," she said, shaking her head. "No, that doesn’t make any sense."

"I know it doesn’t," you replied, feeling a mixture of frustration and desperation rise up in your chest. "But it’s there. His name’s all over the files. They have surveillance, they have witness accounts—everything points to Dean."

Your mother’s brow furrowed, her fingers tapping lightly on the table as she considered your words. "I knew Dean," she said finally, her voice steady, as though she was sorting through facts in her mind. "I worked with a lot of people who were mixed up in some dark stuff, but Dean? He wasn’t one of them."

You leaned forward, pressing her. "But could he have been involved without you knowing? Maybe something happened after you were arrested. Something that pulled him in."

Eleanor shook her head firmly. "I don’t believe it. Dean’s a lot of things, but he’s not reckless. And he’s not stupid. Getting involved with the syndicate? That’s a death sentence. And it’s not something he could’ve hidden easily, even from me."

You stared at her, trying to make sense of it all. "But what if… what if they forced him? Or what if he’s been playing both sides, working undercover?"

She leaned forward, her gaze sharp now. "Listen to me," she said, her voice low but intense. "If Dean was involved in the syndicate, I’d know. They don’t operate in a vacuum. Everyone knows everyone. And if Dean was in that system, his name would’ve come up long before now. You said there’s a file on him? Well, I can tell you one thing: Dean’s name isn’t in any of their systems."

Her words hit you like a punch to the gut. You had been hoping, deep down, that she could give you some insight, some hidden piece of the puzzle that would make everything click into place. But instead, it only raised more questions.

"Then why are they saying it’s him?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

Eleanor’s eyes softened slightly. "It sounds like someone’s setting him up. They’re using his name, his reputation, to cover their own tracks. And you need to figure out who’s behind it."

You swallowed hard, your mind spinning. Could it be true? Could someone really be framing Dean, manipulating the FBI into thinking he was the mole?

"But why?" you asked, more to yourself than to Eleanor. "Why would they choose Dean?"

"Because he’s good at what he does," she said, a hint of admiration in her voice. "And because they know that if you believe he’s guilty, no one will question it. Not even you."

The words stung, but you couldn’t deny the truth in them. If someone was framing Dean, they were doing a damn good job of it. And they knew exactly how to push your buttons, how to make you doubt everything you thought you knew.

You looked down at the table, your hands clenched into fists. "I don’t know what to do," you admitted, your voice small and defeated.

Eleanor reached out, placing her hand on top of yours. "You do what you always do," she said gently. "You dig. You find the truth. And you don’t stop until you have it."

You nodded, the resolve slowly returning to your chest. She was right. There was still a lot you didn’t know, but you couldn’t stop now. Dean’s life—his reputation—was at stake, and you couldn’t let him go down without a fight.

"Thank you," you said, meeting her eyes. "I’m sorry to have dragged you into this."

She smiled softly, squeezing your hand. "You’re my kid. You don’t need to apologize for coming to me for help."

The guard knocked on the door then, signaling the end of your visit. You stood, feeling the weight of the conversation still heavy on your shoulders. As the guard escorted you out, you glanced back at Eleanor one last time. She gave you a nod, her eyes filled with the kind of strength you always admired in her.

As the doors closed behind you, the coldness of the prison faded, but the uncertainty lingered. Dean wasn’t in the syndicate. You were sure of it now. But that meant someone else was pulling the strings—someone powerful enough to frame him, to make you doubt him.

You stepped outside into the crisp air, your mind still racing. There was more to uncover, more pieces of the puzzle to find. And now, you had to figure out how to put them together before it was too late.

Because Dean’s life depended on it.

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[celaenaeiln]

Thank you so much for debunking the whole "Dick was a super angry child" thing the fandom has been pressing hard for the last few years it's one of my pet peeve characterization for him. (The other him being a Playboy) Does he get angry of course he does he's only human but he's usually very level head and even if he was the "Angry Robin" when he first started he was 8 years old and just lost his parents! I feel like anyone especially a child would be hurt and angry then but he didn't want revenge he wanted justice. He was a sweet child who just wanted to make his parents proud.

og post in question

Yes!!

Actually another anon asked me about this too a while ago - that I'll be getting back to soon - and I began writing right away but then I just couldn't. I had to put it on hold because I was overwhelmed by the sheer amount of evidence that Dick was a happy robin. Not A happy robin, THE happy robin. I was exhausted because I didn't know where to begin, there was just too much evidence. I needed to create a separate post first.

It makes me so mad when i see Angry Dick Grayson posts because it's not even an interpretation of events. There's nothing to debate, there's no doubt, there's no question, there's no confusion, there's nothing to contest - HE WASN'T AN ANGRY ROBIN.

Jason says it himself! And unlike people in the fandom who've never read a comic in their life but like running their mouth off, he would actually know because he studied Dick. He watched all of Dick's videos when he was Robin. 11 years worth of videos. And this is what he says about Dick's robin:

Suicide Squad: Get Joker Issue #1

Jason straight up says that Dick was the happy robin. And that's just Jason. There's still Tim, Damian, Bruce, Alfred, Clark, the Justice League, and the Titans who talk about it.

Frankly it boggles my mind when I hear people who write takes say that Dick was an angry robin because even if they've never read any of the robin comics, they should at least know what he was like from what the adult characters say right? Did they really never stop and wonder why Jason keeps talking about not being Dick when he argues with Bruce? Or why Tim was so obsessed with Dick aside from knowing him from the circus? Or why Bruce writes entire monologues about how Dick saved him? Or why Alfred goes on massive rants about how Dick was the best thing ever to happen to Bruce and him or why he started crying and mourning when Dick merely left as Robin? Did no one stop to consider when they started going around saying he wasn't happy?

Honestly Angry Robin Dick Grayson characterization is a black hole of logic and intelligence.

The reason it became so popular is because it's a logical fallacy and logical fallacies sound convincing. This particular argument is the hasty generalization logical fallacy. Hasty generalization is when a statement is made after one or two examples rather than relying on extensive research to back up a claim.

For example: I got sick after eating pizza from Aleano's. Therefore, I must be allergic to pizza.

Proponents of angry robin dick characterization choose one example from decades of writing to claim that he was angry after his parents died which-seriously? Besides you'll start to notice that people who write those takes will never provide evidence because it's near possible to find something that doesn't exist. Sure one or two out of context photos might be provided but that's the best they can do to support that type of characterization. As much as we wish we were magicians from Hogwarts, no amount of wishing is going to transfigure the hundreds of comics filled with happy robin to him being an angry monster.

Also it's ridiculous that type of character because they're saying that if he's upset that his parents died, then he's an angry character. But if the Joker's happy that random people died, then he's a psycho. What do they want?! And that's not even the whole truth of it either. Dick was massively sad more than he was angry. He was taken away from his circus family and is left alone like all the time now. His life changed in a second - he's depressed. But he was able to work through it and that's how Robin was created.

Dick was not Robin when he went after Tony Zucco. The reason Bruce made him Robin was specifically because he admitted he didn't want Tony Zucco dead.

The problem is people sometimes hyperfocus so much on one detail that they forget the big picture. They centered 11 years of Robin characterization around one moment.

Let's get the facts straight. Robin is a success story. The greatness of Dick wasn't just that he was the smart, the best of the ages, and the greatest athelete - no. His greatness is that he is able to move. ON. He can do what Bruce never could. He could move on and take his parents death and turn it into something positive. He was able to overcome grief and not dwell in the past.

That's why he was able to be happy. That's why Bruce couldn't. And that's why Bruce needed Dick because Dick made him happy.

Alfred says this about Dick as Robin -

Robin: Year One Issue #1

"The addition of Dick Grayson into the Master's crusade has made a difference in him." "I do believe I saw him smile. There have been occasions in the pantry when I could just discern the muffled sounds of laughter echoeing up from that dreadful cavern beneath the manor."

People don't seem to understand. Alfred never approved Bruce's tenure as Batman. He loathed it so much he punched Bruce for it. It was Dick's light and goodness that changed Bruce's mind because he saw how happy Dick made him and how happy of a child he himself was.

And Dick? He never changed his personality in or out of costume.

Robin: Year One Issue #2

"He doesn't seem to struggle to lead a normal adolescence." "He's had no need to develop the masquerade that Master Bruce felt necessary." "His personality remains the same with or without the mask and boots. "

He's not the troubled kid some people seem to think he is. He wasn't mean or selfish or cast aside or raging moodily in a corner. Actually in the Batman (1940) and Detective Comics, he was seen as a role model for how helpful and kind he was. He was actually the one who went out of his way to help troubled kids because of his kindness, goodness, and empathy.

Checkmate (2006) Issue #14

Checkmate is a member of Task Force X under Amanda Waller and an ally of Batman's. She knows him. She knows what Dick was to him and Dick even mourns about the time when Bruce used to be happy. It was his joy and personality that did that.

Of course my argument isn't to be taken one sidedly saying he was constantly happy 24/7, all the time, in every occasion - no. Emotions are a spectrum and no one feels one emotion all the time. Thats silly. But, your personality outlook is based on what you feel most of the time. Dick sometimes got angry, sometimes got sad, etc. But in a dichotomy between happy and angry there is no doubt, no question, that he was overwhelmingly on the happy side.

There's a reason why everyone calls him happy. It's because for an overwhelming majority of the time, he was the happy robin.

52 Issue #25

Way back in the Batman (1940) comic Dick says, "I became Robin, history's first sidekick. And there I was, the laughing boy daredevil--"

Batman and Robin (2009) Issue #9

You can call him crazy, excitable, feral, overexcellent, etc. But never forget that Bruce once went insane after locking himself in a simulator that emulated Robin Dick Grayson's joy.

The incontestable truth - Dick was a happy robin.

[rodolfoparras]

So in SSKTJL, the suicide squad gets infected with Fear Gas because of Batman

For context, Fear Gas is a gas created by Scarecrow or Johnathan Crane, and when inhaled, you live through your worst fears until worn off.

And Digger's worst fear is everyone leaving him behind, being unwanted and forgotten. In the scene, George talks to himself, saying they've probably already left him. Calling himself a loser and and a coward and shit. He sees "NOT WANTED" posters of himself hung up around

(I can't do this anymore, bro)

What if Reader's worst fear was watching all of his friends/teammates die and losing them all🥰

Running around trying to listen to Harley's advice (because she knows Scarecrow and the toxin) but he just keeps hearing his friends scream for help and their bodies everywhere but he's literally unable to help them, because they're not fucking real but it's scary asf

And once it's all over, Reader is all over Digger the rest of the night. They're the closest, so it's already not that weird, but he's literally not giving Digger a MOMENT of peace. a hand on that man the entire time, following him everywhere, fucking sleeps on top of him to try and keep him safe

Mumbles to him all night about being scared of losing him and how much he cares about him and Digger's just "🧍‍♂️wut?" Because he genuinely believes that despite working with the team, he's very easily disposable and they could all replace him but don't because of Waller

Reader ramping up his affection for Digger after that because he's not gonna let him think that shit??

Idk where I'm going with this but I love him so much. Just wanna play with his hair and kiss his face 😞

-🐧

Cw: tooth rotting fluff, x male reader

Okay but thinking about you being unable to calm down even though the gas has long stopped having effect, even though you’re back in your current reality with all your friends where they’re all very much alive and doing well but no matter what they say or do you just can’t calm down

It’s like you’re still stuck in that place, watching all your friends die in front of you without being able to do anything, and Digger being Digger starts joking around, telling the rest of the team how they should just knock you out to make sure you get to sleep through the night.

But his words turn into squeaks as you pull him into a bruising grip, his head shoved into your chest, and your arms locked in an iron grip around his waist.

Unintelligible sounds escape his lips as he tries to push you away from him but you don’t budge an inch, if anything you hold him tighter, nuzzling your face into his honey blonde locks and inhaling his scent, and for once you actually seem to relax.

“Uh hello big guy? cant breathe here,” the sound of Digger’s strained voice sends the whole squad into fits of laughter, with them even making comments about how you’re his responsibility for the night before splitting up to get some rest.

“Alright alright that’s enough” digger says as he finally breaks out of your embrace “jeez I know I’m a lovable guy but even that was a bit too much eh?” Digger says, clearly being sarcastic as he proceeds to prepare his make shift bed.

He doesn’t even get to lay down properly before you’re on top of him, your body weight pinning him in place an arm once again locked around his waist.

“God dammit,” Digger grunts out as his back meets the harsh impact of the ground. “What’s with you tonight eh? Gas scared you that bad? What did you even see?”

And maybe it’s the hint of concern in his voice or it’s the exhaustion from todays events, but you decide to tell you him what you saw earlier today.

Surprisingly enough, Digger listens intently to every word you have to say, at some point you think he’s fallen asleep or spaced out because it’s so unusual for him to not interrupt but when you look up, you see the very much focused look on his face as he continues to listen to you.

Once you’re done speaking you peer up at him - only to be met with the sight of his furrowed brows as he worries his bottom lip.

This time it’s your turn to ask what’s on his mind, digger doesn’t waste a second before he starts to explain, telling you how he can understand why you’d be worried about losing king shark- he was a great asset to the team - or Harley - she was a smart cookie or dead shot - look at his name! who wouldn’t want a guy like that on his team ? but he can’t understand why you’d be worried about losing him.

He doesn’t say it in a self deprecating way, but rather as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world, as if he’s speaking of the way the sun is bound to rise tomorrow and maybe that hurts more than if he were to say it in a self deprecating tone.

You’re swift to rise up, knocking the air out of his lungs as you go on a tangent about how of course he’s an important part of the team, promptly mentioning the many times he’s saved your ass or saved another member of the team, the many times he’d been the reason as to why they succeeded in whatever mission you were doing.

By the time you’re done you’re all out of breath, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace hands still hanging in the air and staring wide eyed at the Aussie man.

“Alright alright big guy I get it,” he says, now sporting a blush on his face and avoiding your gaze while bashfully rubbing at the back of his neck. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you have a crush on the ol’ captain” Digger say with somewhat of a forced chuckle , and peers up at you beneath soft blonde lashes.

“Maybe I do,” you shrug.

“Wha-“

“Sleep digger, we have a long day tomorrow no?” You say, suddenly laying down again and pulling him into your arms before he can protest. You can hear him cursing under his breath but he doesn’t do anything to try and get out of your embrace. “Goodnight captain” you say with a smile on your face.

“Goodnight” he grumbles back as he tightens his hold on your waist.

[frownyalfred]

Question, cause I have an idea I can't shake and I wonder how you think it'd go because your takes are always immaculate, in an injustice style world where Supes goes off the rails and the JL follows him what do you think the Bats would do if Bruce was the one who died?

All of the batkids are alive (none of the kind of weird Damien accidentally killing Dick stuff) and Bruce goes to confront Clark about it and somehow it ends in him dead.

Very distinct scene in my head where Bruce sees it all unfolding and tells the kids he's going to go talk to Clark with very little expectations of success and the next time they see their father it's Kal-el delivering his body to them. Telling them he's sorry, but Bruce didn't understand. He's sure they do though, he's heard them argue with him. They understand sometimes death is necessary.

How do you think they'd react?

(saw some stuff from Suicide Squad Kill the Justice League and was thinking about the Bats and somehow this was born)

Personally I think there would maybe be some murder but you know it's just a little idea

Idk if I'll ever get around to fleshing it out and writing it but it's been plaguing me. I think Alfred deserves to get the final blow, you know if Kal killed his kid. He should be the one with the long range sniper rifle and a clip of kryptonite bullets. He deserves it you know?

I think it all kind of depends on the type of Clark here (is he really Injustice-y yet? is he a straight up dictator when Bruce goes to talk with him, or just warming up?) AND it depends on how Clark explains Bruce's death to the League and the Batkids.

Does Clark kill Bruce out of anger? Is it an unfortunate accident? A little bit of both? If Clark is really falling down the Injustice rabbit hole, he can explain it away as a Joker plot to save face. If he's still Clark, I think he would tell people the truth -- either that it was an accident, or he hit Bruce but didn't mean to kill him, etc.

Sometimes, getting revenge for a loved one's death is about making the person responsible feel your pain and devastation. The Batkids and Alfred will need to evaluate if there's 1) a way to hurt Superman that doesn't end with all of them hurt/dead too and 2) any hope of making Clark feel more guilty/devastated than he already is over Lois, his kid, AND Bruce.

There's nothing like showing up with a big kryptonite blade to kill Superman and him just...agreeing with you? And hating himself for what he did? But a Superman who's falling into that dictator role, who denies responsibility or some responsibility for Bruce's death, who tries to capitalize on it all for his new worldview -- that's a Superman worth fighting against.

If we take the Batkids as Bruce's substitute during the main events of Injustice, then yes. They'll create the insurgency and fight against the regime, in Bruce's memory. But it's an interesting upend of Bruce and Clark's dynamic, since part of their regime/insurgency was always underlaid by the fact that they were/are equals, and once very good friends.

These are Bruce's kids Superman would be hunting down, one by one. Does he restrain himself from killing them, out of some misplaced sense of guilt? Does he want to recruit them away from their insurgency because he knows even one Batkid alive is a huge threat?

All really good questions. Injustice AUs are so much fun, I don't know why there isn't more fic about them!

[lordsammichsilas]

Medical File DN-407P Paladin Danse Patient symptoms included inability to sleep and a "dull throbbing pain in head." All standard tests are negative. Evidence suggests post-traumatic stress disorder or similar issue. Until severity of issue increases, recommend voluntary removal from active duty. Patient was informed, but is currently in the field.

Do we know if Knight Captain Cade's terminal entry for Danse was made before or after he set out with Gladius?

I'm guessing he saw Cade before the mission thinking he was just going in for headaches and assumed it was lack of sleep. To his surprise it led to a PTSD diagnosis prompting Cade to recommend Danse take some time off. Danse probably refused to accept the diagnosis and went on the mission anyway, hence the “patient was informed, but is currently in the field”.

Later on during the mission, Haylen would again diagnose Danse with PTSD (although she called it 'Battle Fatigue' in her terminal entry) and would recommend bed rest, which Danse would also refuse.

(The next part is a content warning for suicide ideation)

I think Danse was suicidal. It kind of reminds me of Preston where he describes just not caring what happened to him. Danse wasn't going to take his life with his own hands but instead would just keep doing mission after mission until he was ground down and eventually died in battle.

He actually cares about his squad, though, and his feelings of responsibility towards them kept him from actually doing it.

Tangent

That would actually make Blind Betrayal more climactic and sad because you get to see this arc where he starts to understand that people care about him and he finally gets to enjoy being close to someone just to have his life turned upside down. Only this time he doesn't want to die. He feels like he has to because of duty, which is the exact same excuse he would have used anyway to end his life.

In fact in that context when Maxson confronts the two of you leaving the bunker, pretty much everything he says is basically a huge PTSD trigger.

Tangent: I have a lot of thoughts on Maxson and Danse's relationship in general, but also the face that Maxson had sent Cade a memo telling him to take mental health seriously. Danse was the only one who had any kind of mental illness diagnosed. They decided to wait until his symptoms worsened and let him go on that mission anyway and just marked his case as “treated”. I'll do a separate post about that, though. I've digressed enough.

[the-froschamethyst4]

Name a woman

COD Men Headcanons

————

König

“King”

“Ja, meine liebe (yes, my love)?”

“Name a woman.”

“Name a woman? Why?”

“Just name one.”

“Okay…” he thought long and hard about naming someone. “Jennifer Coolidge.”

“JENNIFER COOLIDGE!!” Y/n laughs at him.

“What? I’m confused, you said to name a woman…is she not a woman?” König was confused.

“No, no, she is, but why her?” You continue to laugh.

“You said name a woman…so I did.”

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Ghost

“SIMON!” You called from from the stairs running to the living room with your phone in hand.

“Huh?” He asks, looking over his shoulder as he was sitting on the couch but shifted a bit when you plopped down next to him.

“Name me a woman.”

“Huh?” He repeats. “Is this another TikTok trend?”

“No, no, just name me one,” you lied.

“Okay…” Simon looked up at the ceiling trying to think of a woman. “Julia Roberts.”

“Julia Roberts?”

“Yes!” He says, sounding offended a little bit.

“Is she prettier than me?”

“Oh I knew it, this is a trend, no you told me to name someone and I did!” He says.

“Then why her?”

“Seriously? This was a trap, I’m not answering,” he crosses his arms and faces the TV again.

“So *sobs* she is?” You cried.

“WHY ARE YOU CRYING?!” He asks cupping your face.

“B-Because *sob* she is prettier than m-me.”

“No, no, I just said because you asked me to, I think you are way hotter and sexier than her, hell I don’t have a shot with her and I’m surprised I had a shot with you.”

“Okay all better,” Y/n’s face was all red but when you said this your face was back at its normal state.

“Did I just get manipulated?”

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Price

“PRICE!”

“Huh? WHAT?!” He yells and then hears your feet sticking to the hard wood floor and you come sitting next to him

“Name a woman.”

“Umm~ why?”

“Do it.”

“Florence Pugh.”

“Floren-huh? Why her?”

“You said name a woman and I did. I liked her in Blackwidow and Don’t worry darling.”

“Don’t worry darling is kind of mid.”

“You fuckin’ take that back.”

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Soap

“Hey, Soap, can you do something for me real quick?”

“Yeah, sure anything love.”

“Name me a woman.”

“Uhh~ o-okay…Margot Robbie.”

“You only say her because you just saw Barbie.”

“AND SUICIDE SQUAD! And she’s a good actress and she is very pretty.”

“Prettier than me?”

“We’re are not starting this. You are prettier than anyone.”

“But you just called Margot Robbie pretty.”

“Because I don’t have a chance with her but you…WOO! I don’t know how I got you. You are WAY out of my league, sweetheart.”

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Alejandro

"Amor, can you name me a woman please?"

"A woman...are you pregnant?"

"What? No, just name me a woman."

"Oh okay ummm~ Xochitl Gomez."

"Xochitl Gomez?!"

"Yeah, have you seen her on Dancing with Stars! Come on, she's amazing."

"Amazing?"

"W-Well-I-I-I-uhh~ she's not better than you, obviously," he nervously laughs, he knew this felt like some sort of trap.

"Well, I know that, and yes I have seen her dance," you said.

You stood up and looked like you were ready to do sombra, Alejandro chuckled and stood up with her ready to dance with her

✤✤✤✤✤✤✤✤

Gaz

"KYLE!"

"Oh no, it's never good when you call me by my government name and not my codename."

"Yeah, yeah, listen," you plopped down on the couch next to him. "Name me a woman."

"Okay, Y/n."

"No, not me just anyone."

"Y/n."

"Huh? No, someone else."

"Why?"

"B-Because just name someone."

"No, I stick by my answer."

"What did you do?"

"Why do you assume I did something?" He laughs.

"I don't know? You just seem like you did something."

"I didn't do anything." He says giving her a soft smile.

"Okay...what do you want?"

"Nothing, I'm happy just where I am," he smiles at you.

You were still suspicious like he either did something or he wants something, as you walked out of the living room and out of sight Gaz grabs his phone.

"They did it." Gaz whispered-yelled into his phone.

"Did you stand strong?" Price asked.

"Of course, but they thought I did something."

"It was a trap, you did good solider," Ghost says.

[lacontroller1991]

Branded (Rick Flag x GN!Reader)

Main Master List || DC Master List

Requested by @witchygagirl - If you're still doing them can I request

You have a tattoo where your soulmate first touches you for Rick Flag

from this prompt list

Warnings: Heavy gun usage, gun fire, battle, blood, language, battle wounds

===========

The gunfire rings out around you as sand flies everywhere. If it wasn’t for the light of the continuous gunfire, you definitely wouldn’t be able to see. You shouldn’t even be here. You should be back in Spain, sipping on your sangria on the beach with men waiting for your beck and call. Instead, you’re in the middle of a gunfight on a random ass beach in South America, all because you killed a few people. Ok. Maybe a lot of people. Thus began your time in Belle Reve. 

When Waller had initially come to you with the proposition, you had shunned her away, openly mocking her for ever assuming that you would join her little Task Force. With the more days that passed and the more people you saw leaving, you soon changed your mind, leading you to now. Hands wrapped tightly around your gun as you hide behind a rock, trying to cancel out the screams of your comrades. 

Now you know why it’s called the Suicide Squad.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Your commander yells at you, crashing beside you and catching his breath. “We need your help out there!” 

You look over to him, eyes wide in panic as your lips slightly tremble. “I can’t. My power can’t activate under stress.” 

“You’ve got to be fucking me.” Rick groans from beside you, reloading his gun as he shakes his head in disbelief. When he looks back at you, terrified, he realizes that you’re not joking. “Look at me. Look at me!” He grabs your face with his dirty hands and turns you to him. “This is life and death. Either you fight or you die and I don’t intend on letting any more of my people die. Understand?” You nod your head as he nods his head. “Ok good, on my mark, we’re going to make a run for some better cover. Ready?” He asks, getting into a crouching position as you follow suit, gripping onto your gun like your life depends on it. “Go!” You and him run through the gunfire, firing your own weapons back as you watch men fall to the ground. You feel a rush of pride but it’s short lived when you feel a searing hot pain rip through your leg, causing you to fall to the ground. You try to stand up, but fall short, your leg burning in pain causing you to let out a sharp cry of pain as you look down, the sand underneath your leg getting darker and darker. Just like your vision.

Hearing your cry of pain, Rick’s head whips back until he spots you lying on the sand, clutching your leg. He’s already clear of the gunfire and he could proceed with his mission, but there’s something about you that is preventing him from going forward. “Oh for fuck’s sake.” He grumbles to himself before fixing his gun and running back into the line of fire, making quick work to grab your ankle and drag you towards the bushes. “I hope I’m right about this.”

—-------

You wake up to birds chirping at people talking though you don’t know where you are. You remember being shot, and then dragged through the woods by Rick, but besides that, you have no clue what’s going on. Moving to sit up, a warm hand places itself on your shoulder, not letting your rise any higher than that. “Woah there, just relax, you’re safe.” You turn your head to the voice and see your commander sitting there with a soft smile on his face.

“Colonel Flag? What’s going on? Where are we?” He removes his hand from your shoulder and places it in his lap, but something is off about it. Did he always have that tattoo on his hand?

“We’re safe, that’s all that matters. We’re waiting for an evac off this hell hole,” he murmurs, looking around the makeshift tent as you nod, turning to look into the mirror on the desk across from you, confusion all over your face. 

“What the hell is on my face?” You try to inspect it a little closer, but again, Rick’s hand pushes you back down, a blush on his face. 

“Well, uh, you know how some people get tattoos where their soulmate touches them for the first time,” he comments as you nod your head. Of course you do. Everyone in the world knows that. And only some are lucky enough to have that. “I think we’re soulmates.” 

“I must have a concussion because this can’t be real,” you comment, but he shakes his head, grabbing the mirror and holding up to your face, placing his hand next to the mirror. In the mirror you can see the exact same symbol on your face that’s on his hand. 

“Concussion or not, it’s real.” He comments as the sound of a helicopter echoes in the distance, causing his head to look outside. “That sounds like our ride. We’ll discuss this later, ok?” You nod your head in confirmation as he gives you an awkward pat on the back, not really sure where to go, but at least you guys will have each other.

===========

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @a-reader-and-a-writer

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @katjnordstrom96 @tavners @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma @violetmuses @neon-supernova

[drabbles-mc]

A Bet's A Bet

Rick Flag x F!Reader

For @the-slumberparty's Bingo Challenge! Bingo Square: lost a bet

Warnings: 18+, language, alcohol, pining

Word Count: 3.6k

A/N: I love him, what else can I say? 😂 I love to see a gruff, grumpy man squirm a little bit lmao.

Suicide Squad Taglist: @garbinge @beardburnsupersoldiers @words-and-seeds @artemiseamoon (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

“This is ridiculous,” Rick muttered as he picked the shot glass up from the surface of the bar.

You laughed as you watched him drink it, his head tilted back for a moment. He hardly even cringed. “I mean, you sort of set yourself up for it.” The offended look on his face was impossible to miss and it only made you laugh harder. “What? He’s literally so good at shooting people that they let him back out of prison to do it. Did you really think that you were going to beat him?”

“You don’t think I could?”

You shook your head before taking a sip of your beer. “I think that remains to be seen.” You flagged down the bartender and asked them to bring Rick another shot. You saw the look he gave you and laughed. “What? The bet was two shots and one—”

“I know, I know,” he grumbled, begrudgingly downing the second shot before looking back over at you again, “Just didn’t think that you would sell me out like that.”

You hummed in amusement even though you knew that he most likely couldn’t hear you over the noise of the bar. “I’m here to keep you honest, Flag.”

The shot glass made a loud clattering sound as he practically tossed it back onto the bar. “I think I might be the only honest one here.” He heard the dramatic gasp you let out at his statement and he laughed before looking over at you. “Yea. Including you.”

Your offended façade only lasted a moment longer before you started laughing again. “Fuck off. If you didn’t want me here, I wouldn’t be.”

“You know I don’t pick—”

“You don’t get to pick anyone from the roster in Belle Reve,” you pointed at him with the beer bottle in your hand, “but you do get to pick who’s gonna be on your team if they’re not behind bars.” His silence spoke volumes and you laughed in triumph. “And here I am yet again!”

“Shut up and drink your beer,” he said, shaking his head like you couldn’t spot the way the ends of his mouth were beginning to curl into a smile.

“Alright,” you took another swig, “but when I’m done, you gotta—”

“I know what I gotta,” he cut you off as he leaned forward, bracing his forearms on the edge of the bar.

“You make it sound so unbearable.” You couldn’t help but to laugh at his dramatics.

He turned around so that he was facing the dance floor. Leaning, he rested back against the bar. He spoke to you even though his eyes were scanning the rest of the bar and the dancefloor to keep an eye on the rest of your team.

“How long you known me?” he asked, still not looking at you.

You laughed as you maneuvered to copy his position. “Too fuckin’ long at this point, I think,” you joked.

“Right,” he agreed with a nod before finally looking over at you. “And in all that time, when the hell have you ever seen me dance?”

You opened your mouth to argue with him, but then you snapped it shut again when you realized that you really hadn’t ever seen it. Not even way back when you were all deployed together and had downtime to fuck around between ops. Things got crazy when the whole squad had too much time on their hands, but no matter the volume of the music or the number of drinks that were passed around, Rick never danced. He got up to plenty of other ridiculous and irresponsible things, but not that.

“Holy shit,” you finally said with a laugh.

His lips flattened into a thin line and he have a single nod. “Yea.”

“Wait a second,” you shut your eyes tight for one moment as your brain started putting all of the puzzle pieces together, creating more of the insane picture that was Colonel Rick Flag, “you’re telling me that we’ve been out here, doing all of this insane shit, and you’ve never—”

“What does that have to do with anything?” he asked.

“Because I can’t believe it.” You shook your head. “Out here ready to be murdered by an alien or something when you’ve never even danced.”

“Tell me how those two things are related?”

“Alright,” you said as you shook your head. Bringing your beer bottle to your lips, you downed the rest of it in one go before setting it back on the bar and looking over at Rick. “Let’s go. Come on.”

You started to walk away from the bar and towards the dancefloor. You only got a step and a half away before you noticed that Rick wasn’t following you. You rolled your eyes even though he couldn’t see you. Turning back around, you reached and grabbed onto his hand.

“Let’s go!” you said with a laugh.

Rick huffed, but he let you pull him along. If he really wanted nothing to do with it, he would’ve just planted his feet and been done with it. He dragged his feet a little bit but he still went. You felt it the moment it went from you just grabbing onto his hand to pull him along to him grasping your hand back. His fingers hooked around yours, the callouses of his palm rough but still warm against yours. You were glad that your back was mostly to him and that he couldn’t see the stupid little grin on your face over it.

“This is so fuckin’ stupid,” he muttered when the two of you got to the middle of the dancefloor.

You laughed, knowing that it was loud enough that no one else probably heard him, but you certainly did. “And yet,” you stepped in so you were pressed close to him, “you’re still out here.”

He scoffed. “A bet’s a bet.”

You were giddy. “Very honorable of you, Colonel.” There were a few beats where neither of you said anything, neither of you moved, and you couldn’t help but to laugh. Resting your hands flat against his chest, you leaned in so that he’d hear you without having to yell. “I think the bet was more than just you getting out here, Flag.”

He rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “I’m aware.”

“It’s not that bad. Promise.”

He looked at everyone around the two of you. It was like no one even noticed that he was there, which he would be eternally grateful for after he survived this. He scanned the place, and realized that the only person watching him besides you, was DuBois, the person who had sent him out onto the dancefloor in the first place. Before he watched long enough to see the rest of the team crumble into fits of laughter at his expense, his eyes were back on you. You seemed as unfazed about this as you were about everything else.

“I don’t think you were part of the bet, by the way,” he mentioned as you danced.

You laughed. “Yea, ‘cause you were gonna come out here alone. Sure.” You could see the way he was shaking his head and even though you couldn’t hear him with all the noise in the bar, you were sure that he was mumbling and cursing under his breath. Bringing your hands from his chest to his sides, you forced him to start swaying, trying not to laugh at the confused and disgruntled look on his face. “God you are the stiffest man alive.”

He tried to relax, but now he felt even more on-edge than before. Something about the warmth of your palms soaking through his shirt, noticeable even with how heavy the air already was with the bodies packed onto the dancefloor.

“Liked it better when I was getting shot at,” he finally said.

You laughed, shaking your head before stepping in close enough for your forehead to drop against him, resting just below his shoulder for a moment as you laughed. Peeling yourself away, you left your hands on his sides as you said, “Maybe we should’ve gotten you a third shot.”

“You’re enjoyin’ this way too much.”

“Watching you squirm?” you asked. When he nodded, you could only nod right back. “Just a little, yea.”

It took longer than it should’ve for him to ease into it. And even when he did, he was still awkward, still stiff. Which really as about what you’d expected. You couldn’t deny that it was funny watching Rick Flag trying to force himself to loosen up and have a good time. It’d apparently been too long since he’d really tried to do anything of the sort.

You kept yourself pinned close to him. You knew that he wouldn’t on his own, so you took the initiative and placed his hands on your waist, letting yours come to rest on his shoulders in return. It was amusing to you to see how hesitant he was about it. The same man who had dragged you when you were bloodied and beaten, the same man who you had to cram into the world’s smallest, most uncomfortable spaces with to keep yourselves alive, was suddenly skittish when your closeness had background music to go with it.

Rick was only on the hook for one dance. That was the bet. Mostly because no one thought that he would actually get out there and follow through on it. You couldn’t say that you blamed them, but Rick had never been the kind to back down from a challenge or an order. Or a bet, apparently.

When the song changed, one flowing easily into the next, you thought that he was immediately going to turn tail and run. You’d understand it—you could still feel the slightly anxious and awkward energy coming off of him. Something completely foreign given the source, the same person who didn’t flinch running into a firefight beside you. But despite the small, lingering traces of discomfort, he stayed. Because even though his muscles were still a bit tense, even though he still hadn’t quite figured out what he was like to have a sense of rhythm, he liked the way it felt to have his hands on the small of your back. He liked the way the tips of your fingers reached just past where the collar of his t-shirt stopped.

He hadn’t even felt those thoughts creeping up on him until it was too late. It felt like one second he was looking around to make sure the two of you hadn’t lost anyone, and the next second he was looking back to you and the wind got sucked clean out of his lungs. And you were so unbothered, so unaware. He hoped that it would stay that way.

Not that you’d been very far away from him to begin with, but suddenly you felt so much closer. He could feel the press of your entire body against his, the way that your legs somehow ended up slotted together. His hips were pinned to yours, his arms wrapped tight enough around you so that he was almost completely on-beat with you. At that point, though, he didn’t even care about the rest of it. The racing thoughts in his head were outrun only by the rapid beat of his heart. For the first time all night there was only one thing pulling his focus, and it was you as you stared back at him. You looked just about ready to completely melt into him and his entire mind blanked out one that thought entered his head.

You saw the shift in his eyes, but it was a look that you weren’t familiar with, one that you couldn’t place. Your hand that had been resting in the space where his neck met his shoulder slid up, palm on the side of his throat, fingertips grazing along his jaw. You tilted your head slightly, eyebrows raising to ask the question that you didn’t want to yell loudly in the midst of the club. His response was an equally wordless smile and small nod. You felt your breath get caught in your throat as you looked at him. It was impossible not to feel the way that the two of you were each leaning in closer to the other.

If it hadn’t been so loud on the dancefloor, you were sure that Rick would’ve been able to hear the pounding of your heart inside your chest. In all of the years that the two of you had known each other, all the late nights, long talks, and close quarters, this was the first time that you felt like things were about to cross a line into territory that you wouldn’t be able to backpedal from. You were shocked at how much you didn’t mind the thought of it.

He was close enough to you that you could feel his breath against your skin. Your heart was about to burst clean out of your chest and your lips were just about to touch his. You almost couldn’t believe that it was about to happen.

And then, before it could, you heard the tell-tale sounds of a fight breaking out on the other side of the bar. You didn’t even have to turn around and look to know that it was your team. Some of the most lethal metahumans in the world finally got to have a night out and they just couldn’t fucking handle it.

Rick’s attention snapped over to the noise immediately, the dazed look on his face was quickly replaced with annoyance. “You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he practically groaned. His arms dropped back to his sides, hands leaving he small of your back leaving an emptiness that neither of you liked or wanted to think too deeply on.

You turned and followed his stride, both of you weaving through the tightly paced groups of people the best that you could. You had no idea what someone said to Peacemaker to get him to swing, but you really didn’t care at that point either. It was bad enough when one team member went rogue, it was worse when it turned into one of the few moments that everyone decided to be on the same side about something and everyone else got involved. You expected this kind of stuff from Peacemaker, but seeing Harley about to smash a beer bottle over someone’s head definitely made you a little extra concerned.

“Alright! Alright!” Rick wasn’t even attempting to hide his annoyance as he started pulling people apart. “Overstayin’ our welcome. Let’s get outta here.”

You caught out of the corner of your eye that DuBois was about to grab his gun and you quickly put your hand on his arm to stop him. He looked at you, peeved at the entire thing. You shook your head. “Not in here.”

He shook his head but he still followed your lead. He wasn’t that dedicated to picking a fight. Once you had him agreeing with you, it became much easier to round everyone up and get them out of the bar. Rick was practically dragging people by their collars but it worked nonetheless. You all had about seven hours before you would get in the chopper and brought back home. With the way things had unfolded so far, some of you might at least be able to use a couple of those to sleep.

Everyone’s rooms were all grouped together. It was a crappy little motel off the beaten path, but it was better than nothing. You were surprised that Waller got you all set up with anything at all, honestly. You’d take what you could get. You and Rick opted to share a room, the foot separating your two queen beds seemed odd now in a way that it never would have before.

“Everyone all locked up in their rooms?” you asked, half-joking, half-serious when Rick came into your room.

He chuckled, nodding. “Yea. All of ‘em are in time-out till we get back to Belle Reve.”

“Yea,” you rolled your eyes as you plopped down and sat on the edge of your bed, “because it’s not like prison is a time-out for them or anything.” You paused, watching as Rick flopped onto the bed that you weren’t sitting on, dragging his hands down his face. “They tell you what happened?”

“No,” he mumbled through his fingers, “but I didn’t fuckin’ ask, either.”

You laughed. “Didn’t wanna know the drama?”

His reply came with no hesitation. “Nope.”

You were shaking your head, helpless to do anything besides stare over at him. You waited, wondering if he was going to say anything about what had happened at the bar with the two of you. With the chaos dealt with and everyone safely stowed away in their rooms, you figured that this was going to be the closest thing that the two of you got to privacy for a while.

There must’ve been a graceful way to bring it up, a way that wouldn’t be awkward or jarring. You just didn’t know what it was. You kept your mouth shut, twisting your fingers into the blanket that rested on top of your bed.

Rick’s eyes were still closed, he was still laying on his bed with his legs dangling off the very end of it because he hadn’t scooted up enough before collapsing onto it. Even with all of that, he still felt you staring at him.

“What?” he asked, not turning to look at you as he did.

You shook his head like he could see you, because it felt like he could. Clearing your throat, you forced out, “Nothing.”

The end of his mouth lifted into a smirk. “Liar.”

It eased some of the tension you were feeling, the laughter that came out of you making you feel a little better about it all. “Shut up.”

Opening his eyes, he turned and looked over at you. “What is it?”

You shook your head. “Nothing, really. Just,” you sighed, “wild night.”

“I mean,” he chuckled, propping himself up on his elbows, “thinkin’ about everything else we’ve been through? Really not…you know…”

You let out a soft laugh, one that was quieter than you wanted it to be. “That’s true.”

“Look—”

“About the bar—”

You both started talking at the same time, both of you stopping when you heard the other. There were a few seconds of awkward silence before you both started laughing. You nodded for him to continue, beating him to the punch.

“Look,” he started again with a laugh, “I was just gonna say…” he trailed off, “I don’t really know what I was gonna fuckin’ say,” he admitted with a laugh.

“I think,” you said, a joking lilt already in your tone, “that considering you’ve never attempted to have any rhythm in your life, you really didn’t do that bad.”

He laughed, shaking his head at you. “Shut up.”

“I mean there’s room for improvement, for sure,” you nettled him just to get another laugh out of him, “but I thought it was going to go much worse.”

“Wow,” he sat up the rest of the way, hands braced on the edge of the bed so he was nearly mirroring the position that you were in, “thanks for the endorsement.”

“It’s an honest one, at least.”

He shook his head but he was still smiling. “Always is with you.”

You figured while you were in the vein of being honest, you might as well go for broke. “I also thought you were gonna kiss me,” the words tumbled out, rushed but clear enough. You chuckled nervously. “You know, before Peacemaker banged some guy’s face off the table.”

Rick’s eyes were still widened from the first part of your statement. He knew that it was his turn to say something, but he couldn’t find the right words. “I thought I was too.”

Warmth spread across your chest at his words, a smile instantly breaking out across your face. Your nerves didn’t dissipate completely, but there was a sense of security in it all that you hadn’t felt before. He could see it, too, the way that your body eased. He was up on his feet again before he could think to stop himself. It only took a couple strides for him to wind up next to you, the mattress sinking slightly beneath his weight as he sat down. He was close enough for the outside of your thigh to be pressed up against his.

“Rick—”

You didn’t get the rest of your sentence out as he leaned in and brought his lips to yours. Nothing you could’ve said would have had any shot in hell at being better than the feeling of him kissing you. You could still taste the faintest hint of liquor off of him from the bar, could feel his stubble beneath the pads of your fingers as they pressed against his jaw. He grabbed onto your waist, his grip firm, like he was determined not to let you or this moment slip away from him a second time.

When the two of you finally came back up for air, you didn’t pull away very far. His forehead was still pressed against yours, chests flush as he continued to hold onto your hip. You smiled, thumb grazing over his cheek as you tried to soak in the moment for all that it was worth.

“You’re better at kissing than you are at dancing, you know,” you finally said, whispering without quite meaning to, like what the two of you were sharing was a secret just for the both of you to know about.

He laughed quietly. “Thank god for that, huh?”

You smiled wider, shaking your head before pulling his lips back to yours. “C’mere.”