Blind, Deaf, Dumb...Bro.

Go out. Fight hard. Screw up. Save the world a few times. We have your back. ((Independent 616 Hawkeye Blog.))

[flipsandquips-blog]

thislooksunjoyous started following you

    “Purple? I mean, I guess it’s different …”

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

“Don’t knock it, kid. I’d rather it be different. Makes it so I'm unforgettable.”

[formerlybatgirl]

                    SHE TRIES TO force herself slack, to give herself over to the hands of a stranger.  but taking the passenger seat after a lifetime of racing to DRIVE doesn’t come so simply.  her core flexes tight until it drifts into nothingness beneath her belly button as though she can steer them forward.  the steps up ahead are too steep to navigate on her own.  

(    it’s okay to need help.    ) 

that reminder comes with the bridge of her teeth clamped while the railings chatter && clunk.  her stomach swoops for the slant back && barbara swallows the sharp retort threatening to burst from her lips.  her resentment comes, an unfortunate side effect of determination, of the commitment to not letting this take her, too. 

❝     do you make a HABIT of stepping on people’s jokes after you lend them a hand?     ❞

(    && as it turns out, teasing flips from her tongue just as smoothly as honey.   ) 

she ribs him gently while they level out.  her palms drop, an immediate instinct by now, to brace against the wheels of her chair.  it’s part of her, an extension. cool steel meets her fingertips.  

❝     ——- refills are usually free.  but i’m not about to let you sit there while i eat.   at least have a slice of pie.   ❞

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

His back found the metal door before his hands did. They’re far too occupied with ensuring that he keeps that stable grasp; what kinda hell would karma throw at him if he let go? It wasn’t an answer he was looking to see become a reality. Help the girl. Don’t futz it up. He'd be a gentleman whose foot pushes open doors instead of inserting itself in the mouths of morons. 

The scents that wafted out of that open door reminded Clint of home. Burnt toast, spilt syrup, and the overwhelming darkness of black coffee were just a few of the things that assaulted their nostrils within milliseconds of entering the steel box that was the diner. 

“Free refills? Would people really have given Gotham such a bad rap if they were offerin’ free refills?” Clint smiled to himself, giving complete control back to Barbara and releasing the grips. “And a slice of pie doesn’t sound half bad.”

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

((Been awhile. Wanna come back. Dunno if the time’s right, but I’m willing to do starters for anyone interested in doing something. Like for some stuff, yo.))

[andsheisweird]

“I am not looking to find out what those ways are. Not today, at least.” Wanda allowed herself a moment to catch her breath and recharge, listening to the alien boots scramble to regain the momentum they had lost between the volley of arrows and her final blow.

“That gives us a minute to regroup or retreat. I think hoping for backup at this point is a far off dream. We can either get to the higher ground, or I can create a diversion suitable enough to give us the chance to run. Which sounds like the better option?”

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

“Dyin’ ain’t so bad.” The cheekiest of grins was flashed toward Wanda before disappearing back above the car to send off another stick of A-grade-destruction. Clint slid to the ground, boots digging deeper into the dirt with each inch he descended. 

“I say we try both. Set the diversion and give us time to pull back a bit; we ain’t winnin’ this fight, but a full retreat ain’t an option. Not yet.”

[formerlybatgirl]

               BACK IN THE beginning, when the phantom lingerings of curled toes && the warm familiarity of tight calves stretching, loosing the tension of a hard night spent bounding from rooftop to rooftop, she might have balked.  stern-scowled, shoulders hiked up to brush the undersides of her ears, barbara had been too ANGRY, too resentful of what she’d lost… accepting help was admitting a weakness; batgirl doesn’t garner pity && she, who flies like a silhouette in the gotham skyline does not need aid from a stranger with a samaritan complex while she still has breath swirling in her lungs.  

she still harbors a terse band, a singular strand of resistance, that springs up hotly when it’s offered.  

but the steps up ahead… 

she can’t maneuver it by herself, && she catches the curl of his hearing aid looped around the shell of his ear.  allowing him a grateful nod comes easier than she expects it too.  

❝    —— whoever thought the early bird special would come with conditions? ❞   

she turns the heels of her hands back on the worn rubber tires.  && tilts an unwinding smile back up at the stranger.  it’s still wily at the edges; it wouldn’t be HER if it wasn’t.  

                                             ❝   your coffee’s on me.                                                                      … thanks.  ❞  

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

He saw it in her eyes. She was a fighter, adjusting to the life of a spectator, with the heart and vibrancy of an announcer. He knew the game all too well, having thrown his hat into the same ring time and time again. The chair was new. A foreign visitor on a planet inhabited by only she, and it demanded more than it gave. The hearing aid felt a little heavier then. 

Clint made his way to the handles behind Barbara, taking one in each hand and gripping tightly. He eased her to the first step, placed a foot on the spine of the undercarriage, leaned her back, and lifted her.

“I think they try and sling those sorta offers to the geriatrics; couldn’t have been countin’ on the younger crowd showing up before ten. This'll get a little bumpy.”

He took the next step. Then the second. Then the final one. 

“Might wanna reconsider that offer. Coffee’s all I planned on getting, and I go a little overboard with the stuff.”

[andsheisweird]

The blow had knocked the wind from Wanda’s lungs, and coupled with everything polluting the air, she gasped, fearing for a few short seconds her lungs would never fill enough. Flickers of red energy licked at her hands, but she held off on firing a hex bolt in any particular direction until she had gotten her bearings back. Clint’s grasp came as a welcome relief to the woman in red, giving her a moment to survey; to reorient herself to the fight. After a beat, she took over the offensive role he had given up to help her, allowing her chaos energy to fly at their enemies.

“Barely, but I do think I’ll manage.”

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

Wanda’s retaliation shook Clint to his core. The sound of an alien language slinging what he guessed to be something about Wanda’s mother managed to weasel its way into the hearing aid that hung by a single wire from Clint’s ear. He’d have Stark take a look at it when this was settled; if not, he’d be dead and wouldn’t need to hear anything anyway. The fact that the thought almost seemed preferable should have been more troubling to Clint than it was. With a groan, Clint hefted himself and Wanda to the opposite side of an overturned police car. 

“There’re worse ways of going.” He chanced a glance over the top of the driver’s side wheel. “Looks like we got a minute. Two tops.” 

[carolinemakesameme]

Using the new GIF function, search your faceclaim and post the first gif that shows up

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

andsheisweird

Clint loosed an arrow, stepping over Wanda to draw the fire away from her and toward him. His eyes burned like hell; the dust that swirled around the two was heavy and attacked eyes, mouths, and ears like it had been working against them the entire time. The return fire had stopped for just a second, giving Clint the time to string his bow over his shoulder, take hold of Wanda’s arm, and begin shuffling her toward the nearest cover. “Wanda? C'mon. Please tell me you’re still breathing.”

[nikethestatue]

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

formerlybatgirl liked your post:((Been awhile. Wanna come back. Dunno if the...

“These places’re never as accessible as they should be.” Clint’s hands found some security in the sweet, sweet embrace of his jean’s pockets. Cheap diners, much like the cities in which you found them, weren’t all that welcoming. They normally had a few steps leading to the entrance, metallic doors to stop the wind in the winter months, and a lack of any sorta accessibility for the handicapped. It didn’t help that the place was in Gotham, where you’re just as likely to catch a killer case of laughing gas as you would a common cold. The archer nodded to the entrance, offering Barbara a very clear picture of the hearing aid that hung on the end of his ear. “You need any help? I was headin’ in anyway.”

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

((Been awhile. Wanna come back. Dunno if the time’s right, but I’m willing to do starters for anyone interested in doing something. Like for some stuff, yo.))

[borntotakethis]

Jess offered a tense smile as she waved to him, closing the door behind her. She could hear the strain in his voice, and frankly, she wasn’t entirely sure how this conversation would go, but she was there and willing to find out. It was something.

"Not sure why you’re thanking me."

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

Clint dragged himself to his feet--the movement was his last act of complacency. The man Clint was had pushed himself off the ground and onto his feet; the man Clint hoped to be took a tentative step toward Jess. 

"Because you're here. You had every right to get to packin' and leave me in the dust, but you came."

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

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[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

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[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

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[anationaltreasure-blog]

send me ≚ and i’ll post 3-5 icons that sum up my muse’s feelings on yours

[darknightdaughter]

"The answer’s no, but I’m easily persuaded with a good cannoli."

[thislooksunjoyous-blog1]

"Then I might know a place with a half-decent cannoli."