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there is a voice inside my head that whispers “wing au” every time i join a new fandom. it is currently winning.

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You ever think Andrew’s like, folding laundry in his apartment with Neil, throwing socks into their shared drawer because neither of them give a shit about socks, and then he has to pause because…he’s folding laundry.

For him and his boyfriend. Who are both adults with like, health insurance and shit. They say shit like “let’s go home” and “what’s for dinner?” Nothing is separated in their dresser except for workout wear because they need different size compression gear. They have matching jackets in the closet and pictures on the wall. They kiss each other good morning, and hello. They grocery shop. And suddenly Andrew’s nicotine gum is heavy in his pocket, because he stopped smoking so he’ll never be too out of breath to reach Neil.

Andrew has to stop to feel his heart, as if folding t-shirts was running a marathon, because he didn’t think he’d last this long. He didn’t think this was possible.

So Andrew sits in their apartment and feels.

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RIP Joann, now what?

I wanted to make a post I could copy and paste and or link when I see folks asking where to buy fabrics when Joann is gone. I sew a lot, generally between 100-200 items a year and I don't do it on a big budget. Stores are not in a particular order.

Notions:

Wawak.com - start here, mostly stay here. Wawak is a supplier for professional sewing businesses and have the prices that show it. I will not pay for gutermann Mara 100 anywhere else. I buy buttons, tools, thread, and most elastic here.

Stitch Love Studio - this is where I buy lingerie supplies https://www.etsy.com/shop/StitchLoveStudio?ref=yr_purchases

Fabric:

Fabric Mart - this is one where you want to sign up for emails and never buy unless its on sale. They run different sales every day and they rotate. Mostly deadstock fabrics but I buy more from here than anywhere else. Fantastic customer service and if you watch you can get things like $6 wool suiting or $4 cotton jersey. https://fabricmartfabrics.com/

Fabrics-Store - again, buy the sales not the full price. Sign up for the emails but redirect them to a folder because it is TOO MANY. They stock linen or good but not amazing quality. https://www.fabrics-store.com/

Purple Seamstress - This is where I buy my solid cotton lycra jersey. They have other things, but the jersey is what I'm here for. Inexpensive and very good quality. If you ask she will mail you a swatch card for the solids. https://purpleseamstressfabric.com/

LA Finch - deadstock fabrics with a fantastic remnant selection https://lafinchfabrics.myshopify.com/

Califabrics - mix of deadstock and big brands, easy to navigate and always seem to have good denim in stock. https://califabrics.com/

Boho Fabrics - good variety, nice bundles. I have also gotten some really great trims from here. https://www.bohofabrics.com/

Firecracker Fabrics - garment and quilting fabrics, really nice selection and great sale section. I've bought $5 yard quilting cottons here several times. https://www.firecrackerfabrics.com/

Hancock's of Paducah - Quilting fabric and some limited garment fabric. AMAZING sale section. Do not sleep on the sale section. This is my first stop when buying quilting fabrics. Usually the last stop too. Not particularly speedy shipping. https://www.hancocks-paducah.com/

Itokri - This is something a little different. Itokri is an Indian business with incredible traditional fabrics. Shipping to the US is expensive, but the fabric is so inexpensive it evens out. I generally end up paying like $30 for shipping. Beautiful ikat and block prints. https://itokri.com/

Miss Matatabi - this is a little treat. This isn't where you go to save money, but there are so many beautiful things in this shop. Ships from Japan incredibly quickly. https://shop.missmatatabi.com/

Lucky Deluxe - Craft thrift store, always has an incredible selection and fantastic customer service. I need to close the tab fast because I never go to this website without finding something I need. https://www.luckydeluxefabrics.com/

Swanson's - the OG of online craft thrift stores, but I find their website harder to navigate. https://www.swansonsfabrics.com

Honorary Mentions: I haven't shopped at these places yet but I have had them recommended and likely will at some point.

A Thrifty Notion - https://athriftynotion.com/

Creative Closeouts - https://creativecloseoutsfabric.com/ being rebranded to sewsnip.com on March 1 - quilting deadstock

Hawthorne Supply Co. - I just got this rec and I think I need to not look too closely or I'm going to slip with my debit card. https://www.hawthornesupplyco.com/

This is not an exhaustive list of everywhere you can buy fabric, or even a full list of where I shop. There are SO many options out there in the world. You also need to think outside the fabric store box. I thrift men's shirt fabrics for quilts and sheets for backing fabric. I don't do a ton of in person thrifting and my local stores don't get a lot of craft materials but every thrift store is its own universe and reflects the community it is in. Go out and find something cool.

Oh and final note: Don't shop at Hobby Lobby.

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Danny: *slaps a 3inch binder down, complete with tabs, a table of contents, and sticky notes* Here's mine, let's compare notes.

The JL: excuse

Batman: Clear my schedule for the next hour.

Got slapped with random motivation, have a prompt thingy

“That's fair actually.”

This statement managed to silent the room Batman had been trying to settle for 5 minutes. He had told the Justice League about his contingency plans, and they were all rather appalled. Well, except for one, it seems.

Danny Phantom, a relatively new hire, had spoken up.

Superman questioned him. “What do you mean, fair?! It shows he doesn't trust us!”

“Trust has nothing to do with it.” Phantom responded. “It's about precaution.”

Phantom paused for a moment, letting it sink in before continuing. “Tell me, how many of you have never been mind controlled?” The league seemed somewhat abashed.

He spoke once more, “It's important to have a plan in place to stop someone when they can't stop themselves.”

“I have contingencies already in place for myself, frankly I am glad to know that someone else does too.” Phantom got a haunted look in his eyes. “I’ve seen what could happen if I go dark.”

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how the fam find out Jason's still alive

Dick, looking through old photo books: aw, it's such a shame Talia didn't tell B about you until recently Dami, I'd have loved to see photos of you as a baby

Damian: ? I can get baby photos if that is required in this family

Dick: what, how? Talia doesn't seem like the baby-book kind of woman, no offense.

Damian: She was not, however after my brother was brought out of the Lazarus pit he was given a few old cameras in an attempt to make his mind focus on something not harmful to himself and settle down. He took a lot of photos of our family during his training.

Dick:

Bruce:

Both, simultaneously: your what now?

-later-

Damian, walking into the room with an old box: Alright so I broke into his current safe house while he was working and took one of the boxes. I believe these should suffice for your 'baby books'

Bruce: hold on you broke into his- your brother lives in Gotham??? there's a trained league assassin working in this city and you didn't tell me? Damian we need to talk about your habit of withholding important infor-

Dick: Bruce.....

Bruce: -mation. what?

Dick: look at the.... photo...

Bruce, leaning over to see a photo of Jason Todd holding baby Damian up at the head of a meeting table like in the lion king, red smear on his forehead, while Ra's Al Ghul stares at them both from his seat looking Tired Of Jason's Shit™:

Damian, peering at the photo: yes, Todd got quite good with the timers on those cameras, he took many a photo holding me like that. I believe it was a special campaign designed to get on grandfather's nerves enough that he'd agree to watch the movie with us.

Bruce:

Dick:

*screaming*

bonus:

Tim: you know some of these photos are actually really good, like the angles and tones you used

Jason: you steal Robin, I steal photography.

Tim:

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y'all HAVE to watch this...interview??? with the inmates of the prison where luigi mangione is being held.

the reporter is standing outside the prison walls, while the inmates are inside watching newsmax, and collectively screaming out one-word answers to questions loud enough to be heard by the reporter.

I've never seen anything like it

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Padawan braids should be far more decorated I don't care

I want them to have beads and bows and jewels and rings and bells and-

I want them to scream culture, to scream tradition, to scream history!!!

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if the life of a ghost's anchor is threatened, an immediate response triggers.

can't spell 𝘎𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘛 without 𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘛

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Crow likes shiny stuff

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Added another chapter, here we goooo ~~

-

Tim stepped out of the Batcave to grab himself a coffee. He was gone for 10 minutes.

So tell him why as soon as he closes the entrance, he's accosted with the sound of Jason and Damian bickering over the bat computer. The computer he’d been using for the past 5 hours to try and solve an ongoing trafficking ring.

“I told you my fucking number and I’m no liar,” Jason grumbles.

“Shut it Todd, I’m concentrating.”

Why does this always happen to Tim? What god did he piss off enough to regularly put him in the room when his brothers are arguing? What did he do to deserve such slander??

“You wouldn't have to concentrate if you just believed me-” Jason snaps, as Tim starts to make his way down the staircase, quietly stepping between shadows to avoid being seen.

“I refuse to believe that you’ve killed that many people since you were revived.”

“I’mma crime lord, brat. I’ve killed a lot of fucking people. Not to mention the Pit Rage.”

When Tim gets his first peak of the Bat Computer, he doesn't know why he bothered to be sneaky. At a first glance, Jason looks casually relaxed, his feet up on the desk, but his shoulders are tight and his attention is focused on whatever the hell Damian is doing.

Did Tim mention that he didn’t like where this is going? He would like it on record that he doesn't like this one bit.

“Pit Rage or not, that’s a preposterous number.”

“And that’s a good enough reason to hack into the Watchtower for all the information they have on the League of Assassins?”

Oh shit. Oh fuck .

“Father has encrypted folders stored in their databases holding detailed information pertaining to the League of Assassins." Damian sniffs, "If the information we seek is anywhere, it’ll be there.”

Nope, Tim is definitely not a fan of this development. He’d been meaning to see if he could get to that particular file and erase all mentions of Ra’s obsession with him. Tim just hadn’t gotten around to it.

“And you’re what? Going to hack past Oracle?”

“No,” Damian scoffs, “I know the password.”

Tim scrambles for his phone. It’s not his favorite device to hack from but dammit, needs must.

"How the hell did you manage that?"

"As if I'd tell you."

“Sneaky little shit.” Jason sounds begrudgingly impressed.

For a few moments, the cave is filled with the sound of aggressive typing, before Damian makes a small, pleased noise.

“I’m in.”

From this angle he can’t see what Damian typed, but Tim has been breaking into shit he shouldn’t for longer than he should have been able to. He’s just gotta get in before they can download something they shouldn’t.

“Great, where’s the LOA files? Do they even have the LOA files?”

“Of course they do, the watchtower is updated on every major server-”

Tim frantically pulls up backdoors and firewall scanners, hoping he can slip his way inside despite not being connected to a direct network.

“What’s that?”

“We have a task, Todd. Try to stay focused.”

“No, go back. I’ve never seen that before.”

Damian scoffs, but returns to a file labeled, 'The Detective - Project Failed’

See, this is why Tim can’t have nice things. Every time he lets his guard down for even a second, a meddling brother fucks it up for him. Truly a tragic life he leads.

“It’s nothing important. Clearly it wasn’t successful-”

“Open it.”

“This is not a leisurely perusement of information, Todd. We have a task to fulfill.”

“The file was created two years ago. That’s too recent to have been Bruce.”

Damian pauses, cursor hovering over the file. Tim hopes with everything he has that the kid will ignore Jason’s request.

But of course, because the universe hates him, Damian clicks it.

The Detective

Age: 17

Height: 5’6”

Weight: 131 lbs

"I fucking told you it wasn't Batman. That's Robin levels of scrawny."

"I applaud your clearly superior intellect, Todd." Damian drawls.

"Who the hell taught you sarcasm?"

“I didn’t need to be taught, unlike some.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don't see how this is relevant.”

ABILITIES:

Trained by Batman, Nightwing, Batgirl, Lady Shiva

Martial arts disciplines including but not limited to:

Kung Fu, Aikido, Jeet Kune Do, Escrima, Krav Maga, Tae Kwon Do, Judo, Wing Chun, Hapkido, Karate, Savate, Kendo, Ninjitsu, Tai Chi, Leopard Kung Fu and Biangan.

Prefered Weapon

Bow staff

Highly skilled combatant

Master Detective, Tactician, and Strategist

Gifted Intellect

Excels in computer science and inventions

Firm grasp of assorted scientific techniques including biology, engineering genetics, forensic, criminology, acrobatics, stealth, disguise, and escapology.

"So I know I made a joke about this being a Robin, but…" Jason trails off.

"These descriptions are too specific." Damien agrees.

AFFILIATIONS:

Batman and his associates

Leader of Young Justice

Leader of Teen Titans

Justice League associates

League of Assassins associates

"Which fucking Robin worked with Ra's of all people?"

"I am the heir of-"

"Tell me when exactly you lead Young Justice."

“Tch.” Damain scoffs.

PERSONAL CONNECTIONS:

Janet Drake (Mother): Dead

Jack Drake (Father): Dead

Eddie Drake (Uncle): Fake Identity

"Oh fuck ." Jason breathes.

ALIAS:

Timothy (Tim) Jackson Drake-Wayne

Robin - Boy Wonder

Red Robin

The Detective

Alvin Draper

"What kind of alias is Alvin ? What the fuck?"

History:

Defeated King Snake (assisted)

Defeated Clusmaster (alone)

Escaped Bane and Killer Croc (alone)

Defeated Firefly (alone)

'Zero Hour'

Defeated KGBeast (alone)

Kidnapped by Zeus - (escaped alone)

First contact with LOA - apocalypse virus

Defeated Cluemasrer (alone)

Lead Young Justice

'No Man's Land'

Defeated Mr. Freeze and Ratcatcher (alone)

Defeated Darkseid (assisted)

'Titans Tomorrow'

Defended Bludhaven from OMAC's (assisted)

Defeated Secret Society of Super Villains (assisted)

Reassembled Teen Titans

Defeated Obeah Man (alone)

LOA affiliation - Objective: [REDACTED]

“No fucking way.” Jason breathes, and judging by Damain’s silence, he shares Jason’s sentiment.

Tim’s frantic typing is yielding no results. Fuck .

“I didn’t think the kid had it in him.”

“I was not aware that Drake was so… versatile in his skills.”

“That’s a fancy fucking way of saying he’s got a rap sheet longer than Santa’s naughty list.”

“He didn’t strike me as the type to work with Grandfather.”

“Yeah, no shit. When did that even happen?”

“By the dates, it would have been during Father’s disappearance into the time stream.”

“ Oh my fucking god .”

Classification: Potential Heir

Mission Success Rate: 98%

Active Member: N/A

Time of Service: 1y 2m 15d

Kill Count: 8,528

“That number can’t possibly be right.”

“Holy fuck, that’s a higher kill count than me .”

“I refuse to believe this. We need more evidence.” Damian states, scrolling down to the detailed notes.

“He blew up a League base?”

“Not just one. He blew up 7.”

“I don’t understand how he would have had the information-”

Tim’s phone vibrates as finally gains access to the Watchtower. It’s too late to have kept his brothers from seeing what they did, but that doesn’t mean he can’t bury his file.

“It says he that he was favored by Ra’s and… that bastard wanted him to be the next Demon’s Head? What the hell did Timmy do ?”

“I don’t understand.”

The data starts disappearing, and Tim clears his throat. His brothers turn around, staring wide-eyed at Tim’s blank face.

His heart is in his throat and his hands are shaking, but he forces a smirk.

“No one will ever believe you.”

Tim turns and sprints for the door.

Without the copies stored away in the watchtower database, his brothers will be hard-pressed to come up with proof about his crimes and really, he’s heard far too many comments about him being one of the more morally sound people in the family, so it’s not likely that his brothers will be taken seriously, but he's not sticking around long enough to get caught.

Tim’s escape lasts about five minutes.

It’s an epic five minutes, there’s a lot of sick flips and narrow misses involved, but by the end of it, the entire family is on the chase.

Which, Tim thinks wryly, is just fucking perfect as he wheezes under the weight of 200 pounds of sheer muscle.

“You have some fucking explaining to do, Timbo.” The jerk that’s currently crushing all of the air out of Tim’s lungs says, but all Tim can do is wheeze.

The weight lifts and oh . Fuck . Yeah, no wonder Tim was on the verge of breaking a rib, Jason was the one who tackled him.

Rude. Tim weighs like. A third of him. The man could at least pretend to use some constraint.

“Tell me why,” Jason starts in a dangerously low tone, “You have the highest kill count in this family.”

Tim tilts his head, the picture of innocence. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“ Bull. Shit . Damian and I saw the fucking file. Deleting it doesn't change the facts.”

Tim's expression doesn't falter. He’s been rubbing elbows with high society since before he could walk. He’s well practiced in a poker face. “What file?”

Jason lunges for him.

A short scuffle later finds both Tim and Jason separated, Bruce with an arm across Jason’s chest and Dick bodily hauling Tim off the ground.

"What's going on?"

Ah shit, that's Bruce's Batman voice.

"Tim has a kill count higher than me." Jason immediately spits, the snitch.

"He worked with Grandfather."

"He blew up 7 league bases."

Every gaze in the room lands on Tim, and he sighs, admitting defeat and slumping in the hold Dick has him in. Damn the man and his octopus arms.

It was a good run. But the gig is up.

"I was in a… bad headspace." He shrugs ruefully, "Black Canary once told me that shared misery is halved misery.”

“Your ‘bad headspace’ lead to blowing up 7 League bases ?”

Tim shrugs. “In my defense, Ra’s is an asshole who has my spleen in a jar. I think he deserves it.”

The arms tighten around Tim, “He has what -”

”Your spleen ?”

“That does sound indicative of Grandfather’s behavior.”

“What the actual fuck, replacement.”

"You have some serious explaining to do." Bruce says, tone authoritative with no room for argument.

Tim sighs. He just wanted coffee.

An opinion. Jason was the only batkid who did not come with a pre-installed Kill option, that was downloaded, after death, while he was with the League. Dick, Tim and Damian, tho, they came with it, and Bruce had to learn to manually turn it off.

99% success rate with Dick and Damian.

76% success rate with Tim who has not killed anybody, but has contemplated it way too many times for Bruce to be comfortable with.

Edit: for all the people who keep saying "But Tim blew up the League bases with so many people," listen, if Bruce doesn't know, it didn't happen. Don't go snitching on my boy like that.

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Its past their bedtime

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Wymack stops the car with care. He’d noticed Neil drifting off on the ride back from the airport, face tight with pain that hasn't eased much in sleep. 

The moment he caught sight of the kid, nothing more than a crumpled form on the curb, he'd been itching to ask what the hell happened. But he knows better. Neil’s extracurriculars are above Wymack's pay grade, and the kid's a flight risk. He’ll talk when he's ready. Asking any earlier will have him shutting down faster than you can say Exy.

Even if Neil's ragged voice saying ‘No. No, I'm not.’ in answer to Wymack's ‘Are you all right?’ instead of the ‘I'm fine’ he was used to hearing had stopped his heart right where it beat in his chest.

Getting Neil off the dingy sidewalk and back to Palmetto was far higher on Wymack's list of priorities. New cosmetics and all.

Sure, the red hair and blue eyes were a surprise, he'll admit, but they pale in comparison to the bruising they're surrounded by.

Fuck , Wymack hasn't seen such blatant violence on a face that young in years.

Sure, his team is rough and tumble at best, but the bruises on Neil were made with pure, unadulterated intent.

Intent to hurt . 

Neil doesn't stir as he turns off the engine, an even further sign of how out of it he is. 

Wymack had this kid sleeping on his couch for a month. He'd have to be blind to miss how light of a sleeper Neil is. How quickly he could go from totally unconscious to completely awake, categorizing every entrance, exit, and nearby weapon, hand always reaching for his duffle.

The duffle he's curled around now. 

Wymack opens and closes the driver's side door as quietly as a man of his size can manage. He frowns when he eases the passenger side open to find Neil still dead to the world. 

And dead is an apt description to the ashy tone of Neil's usually bronze skin, mottled with purples, greens, and blues.

Wymack takes a steadying breath and reaches for the duffle.

He's primed for an Andrew level reaction, understanding that with the state Neil’s in right now, any touch would probably be considered a threat. But when he starts to pull the duffle away, all he receives is a whine of complaint. Neil's gloved fingers tighten on the strap, but he's as weak as a kitten, and with gentle movements, Wymack pries it from him, slinging it onto his shoulder. 

He studies the kid for a moment, trying to decide if its worth shaking Neil awake for the climb up to the apartment. 

Noting the ever-present tension in his frame and the slight tremble of his limbs, Wymack makes his decision. 

He reaches into the car and unbuckles the seatbelt, maneuvering Neil's shoulder out of the loop. The kid hisses in pain as Wymack starts to lift him.

Neil doesn't make it easy for him, curling into himself as Wymack tries to straighten him out, and wincing all the way.

Wymack is pretty sure that Neil is out for the count, but he can't help the urge to speak to him in low tones. It's nothing more than senseless platitudes, but it seems to calm the kid enough that he's able to pull him into a bridal carry, tucking auburn curls into the crook of his neck. 

Neil quiets once he's settled, and Wymack lets out a sigh of relief.

“I've gotcha, kid.”

It's a slow trek up the stairs as he does his best not to jostle Neil. Kid’s lucky he's still in shape. Neil might look like a breeze would knock him over right now, especially wrapped up in a too big hoodie, but he's built in a lanky, dancer kinda way. 

Even still, he's so small in Wymack’s arms. The same arms that have pulled his Foxes together time and time again. Held them steady, and will continue to do so as long as they need him.

In his mind, Wymack seethes. Wishing nothing more than to get his hands on the bastard who hurt his kid, but his hands stay gentle and steadying where they wrap around Neil.

Getting the door to his apartment unlocked is an endeavor he's glad no one is around to see, but he manages to slot the key in and push his way into the dark hallway.

The dimness fades as he treks toward the living room, he'd left the lights on in his rush to pick Neil up from the airport, and for that he's grateful. No chance of tripping on something and dropping the kid.

Wymack sets Neil down gently, cradling the back of his head until it's rested comfortably on a pillow. 

He half expects the kid to wake up as he transfers him. Neil winces as he's laid out on the worn cushions, but goes still. Shaking his head, Wymack drags his desk chair in from the other room and sets it up next to the couch, tossing a spare blanket over Neil, who's curled slightly into himself in the minute it took Wymack to duck into his office. 

Never before has the spitfire striker of the Palmetto Foxes looked more like a broken child.

Wymack heaves a sigh, and sits heavily. He's got a long night ahead of him waiting for Neil to wake up, but damn it all, he takes care of his own.

You know? I didn’t realize until my sister read the books that Wymack must’ve carried Neil up to his apartment.

Do not imagine Wymack, his face a thundercloud, opening the passenger door and easing Neil out with the gentlest hands, the duffel slung over his shoulder and Neil’s face tucked into the crook of his neck.

Even passed out, Neil is hissing in pain and trying to curl in on himself for protection.

Do not imagine Wymack whispering reassurances in his gruff voice: “it’s ok Neil, it’s just me, it’s Wymack, you’re safe, you’re with me, I got you.”

He doesn’t know if it’s helping, but Neil quiets down and lets him carry him inside.

Do not imagine how small Neil must look, like a broken child, in Wymack’s arms, those same arms that have pulled his Foxes together and held them steady over and over, and will continue to do so as long as they need him.

Wymack’s heart is shaking with barely restrained fury but his hands are careful as he lays Neil out on his couch, cradling the back of his head as he sets him down.