#but funny how it's all about spies

[they-didnt-last]

anyone interested in talking about the iconic 2000's middle-grade-bordering-on-ya book series gallagher girls??

[allthepandasintheworld]

I just realized I can’t say Rene and Alois live in my head rent free. Like, they do pay rent.

The rent is emotional support

[rafedarling]

𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐣𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐲 𝐤𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐞𝐥 𝐥𝐢𝐯𝐞

request: open

pairing: drew starkey x actress!reader

summary: new parents and beloved hollywood couple drew and you take to the jimmy kimmel live stage to discuss your latest movie project together, which releases in may. between balancing new parenthood and demanding film schedules, you two finds yourself sharing a funny, heartfelt stories about life on set with their baby girl, emma starkey. a viral behind-the-scenes video brings laughter to the show, as you discuss how parenting has influenced your lives and careers. based on today drew interview on jimmy kimmel live interview.

warning(s): english is not my native language. fluff, humorous parenting moments, discussions of balancing work and family life.

au: like, reblog and feedback are much appreciated. taglist | tagging: @rubixgsworld @rafeyslamb @bisexualcvnt @tracymbcm @maybankslover @anamiad00msday @stuffyownswrld @httpsdrewstarkey @mileyraes @enjoymyloves @akobx @noobmazter69 @victwrvale @xoxohoneymoongirl @xoxosblogsblog @wearemadeofstardust0 @saviorcomplexrry @percysley @littlelamy

gif: rafedarling

“Ladies and gentlemen, our next guests are not only Hollywood’s favorite power couple but also the stars of the highly anticipated romantic-action film Against All Odds, which hits theaters this May. And if that’s not enough, they’ve recently stepped into the chaotic world of parenthood with their baby girl, Emma. Please welcome Drew Starkey and Y/N!”

You can hear the audience roared with applause as Jimmy Kimmel welcomed his next guests.

You and Drew walked out hand in hand, smiling and waving to the audience. Drew’s free hand rested on your back as he guided you to the guest couch. The applause was deafening, with some cheers and whistles peppered in. You laughed as Jimmy gestured to quiet the audience.

“Wow,” Jimmy said, shaking his head.

“You guys have the crowd in a frenzy. I mean, Hollywood’s hottest couple and now officially parents? Congratulations!”

“Thank you,” you said, smiling at the crowd. “It’s been a crazy year.”

“Yeah,” Drew chimed in, “between the movie and the baby, I’m not even sure what sleep feels like anymore.”

The audience laughed, and Jimmy leaned forward.

“Okay, we have to start with the most important question: How’s parenthood treating you? You’ve got a baby girl, Emma. How’s life with a newborn?”

Drew chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“It’s… humbling, to say the least. Being a first-time parent is no joke. I don’t think I could survive it without this one,” he said, nodding toward you.

You playfully nudged him. “Oh, stop it. You’re doing great.”

Jimmy smiled. “Okay, Y/N, your turn. How’s life as a mom?”

“It’s amazing,” you said, your voice softening.

“I mean, it’s exhausting, but Emma’s such a sweet baby. Watching her grow and discover the world makes all the sleepless nights worth it.”

Jimmy raised an eyebrow. “Sleepless nights? Drew, are you pulling your weight with those 3 a.m. feedings and diaper changes?”

Drew grinned, holding up his hands defensively.

“Absolutely. I’ve mastered the art of the one-handed diaper change. My record is forty-three seconds.”

The audience erupted in laughter, and you rolled your eyes.

“He’s not lying. But let’s not forget the time you forgot to put the diaper on at all.”

The crowd gasped with laughter as Drew shook his head, groaning.

“Okay, in my defense, I was running on two hours of sleep. And the burp cloth worked just fine… temporarily.”

Jimmy laughed, slapping the desk. “You’re officially a dad now, Drew. Forgetting a diaper is like a rite of passage.”

Drew nodded solemnly. “It’s a learning curve.”

Jimmy turned his attention back to you. “Now, let’s talk about Against All Odds. The trailer has everyone excited. What can you tell us about the movie?”

You leaned forward slightly.

“It’s a romantic-action film about two rival spies played by Drew and me who are forced to work together on a mission to stop a global threat. Of course, things get complicated when they realize they have a shared past.”

“Ah, a little romance, a little action,” Jimmy said. “And a lot of explosions, I’m guessing?”

“Definitely,” Drew said.

“The stunts in this film are insane. We’ve got car chases, hand-to-hand combat, and this one sequence where Y/N literally jumps out of a helicopter.”

The audience gasped, and Jimmy’s jaw dropped.

“Wait, wait. You’re telling me Y/N did her own stunts?”

You shrugged with a smile. “Most of them, yeah. The helicopter scene was terrifying, but the adrenaline rush was worth it.”

Jimmy turned to Drew. “And how did you feel about your wife jumping out of a helicopter while pregnant?”

“Oh, that scene was filmed before we knew about Emma,” Drew said quickly.

“But I still worried about her constantly. Every time she’d do a stunt, I’d be off to the side like, ‘Are you sure you’re okay?’”

You laughed. “He was basically my personal cheerleader-slash-bodyguard.”

Jimmy shook his head, smiling. “And Y/N, how was filming while pregnant? Did the crew make accommodations for you?”

“They were amazing,” you said.

“They adjusted the schedule so that I could rest when I needed to, and they made sure I always had plenty of snacks on set.”

“Snacks were essential,” Drew added. “She had a bag of trail mix with her at all times.”

Jimmy laughed. “It sounds like the two of you had a lot going on behind the scenes. Speaking of which, I have to ask about the viral video. You know the one.”

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. Drew laughed, shaking his head.

“Oh no. You’re not really going to show it, are you?”

“Of course I am!” Jimmy said, grinning.

“For anyone who hasn’t seen it, this is a behind-the-scenes video of Drew and Y/N on set. Drew’s building a baby crib, and Y/N is… well, just watch.”

The screen infront and behind you lit up with the video. The audience howled as they watched Drew hammering away at a crib while you sat on a couch with a breast pump. The rhythmic “whirr, whirr” of the pump provided the perfect comedic soundtrack as Drew worked intently. At one point, you casually scrolled through your phone, looking completely unbothered.

When the video ended, the audience erupted into cheers and laughter. Jimmy was wiping tears from his eyes.

“So my question is… is this what you do on set?”

“Well,” Drew said, still chuckling, “Emma needed a crib, and we didn’t have one on set. So, naturally, I decided to build one during a break.”

“And I,” you added with a grin, “was taking care of my part of the parenting duties. Multitasking at its finest.”

Jimmy shook his head, laughing.

“You two are the epitome of modern parenthood. Drew, do you moonlight as a carpenter now?”

Drew smirked. “Not yet, but give me a few more months of parenting, and I’ll be building treehouses.”

The audience laughed again, and Jimmy leaned back in his chair.

“Okay, last question: How do you balance it all? Filming, parenting, being a couple; what’s the secret?”

You exchanged a glance with Drew before answering.

“Honestly, communication is everything. We make sure to check in with each other and divide responsibilities as evenly as possible.”

“And coffee,” Drew added. “Lots of coffee.”

Jimmy nodded sagely. “Coffee and communication. Words to live by.”

The interview wrapped up with more laughs, and even a clip from Against All Odds. As the applause filled the studio, you couldn’t help but feel grateful for the life you and Drew had built on and off the screen. together.

[be-xkyy]

How about the Yanderes training their little babies to be the perfect yanderes to keep an eye on their darling when they aren't around? And I'm talking them telling what you did down to how many breaths you take. Full on lil snitches to anything you do!!!

Hi dear anon, well I think everyone would have their kids keep an eye on reader in one way or another 🖤

Would the Yanderes train their children to watch over Reader?

Tagging list: @kthehoeforfictionalmen ★ @dreamlessnight ★ @riawrld ★ @darkuni63 ★

Masterlist

Yandere Farmer Link

Yes, this man would have his children watch you 24 hours a day. He would teach them from a young age to be completely aware of you when he is not around, he would train them to tell him everything, EVERYTHING, who comes home when he is not, if you talk to someone (whoever), who you call on the phone and he would even make sure his children inform him if you do something that he forbade you to do at some point and you did anyway thinking he wouldn't notice.

Every after he comes home with his older children following close behind after a long day of work on the farm, his younger children would already be waiting for him sitting on the porch steps, they jump to their feet when they see him approaching, they run up to him and start quickly telling him everything that happened while he was gone.

"Enough. Speak one at a time, we can't understand each other. So your mother was on the phone, huh? Well, everyone go feed the horses while I talk to your mother."

Yandere Cowboy Link

Yet another one who shamelessly makes his kids watch you, he finds it funny and might even joke about the fact that his kids watch you, he would call them "his little spies" but if you scold him he would tell you that it is a "cute" thing that his little ones care so much and that just shows how much he and the kids love you, he doesn't need anything else to convince you.

His older kids (four and five years old) come over to tell him everything you did that day, he listens intently while rocking his daughter (one year old) on his hip and kisses her chubby cheeks from time to time, he laughs as he hears his kids fight each other over who tells the "wrong" story, he ends up calming both kids down before they start fighting and get your attention.

"Come on, come on kids, stop fighting before mom finds out and scolds us all, how about we go see your beautiful mother and ask her what happened today?"

Yandere Dilf Link

I think in his case it's more about his worry, paranoia of losing you, something happening to you or you leaving him rather than really wanting to control you, his son and especially his daughters will tell everything about the day to their father since they hate seeing him so worried (he's a good father) if you are more reluctant to talk to him and still don't accept your new life, your children would try to keep their father in the loop.

When he comes back from work and steps foot inside the house his children would already be there ready to ease his worries about you, they would take him to the couch and he would start telling everything to their father who would relax when, he hears nothing strange or suspicious happened in his absence, he would pat his son on the head and kiss his daughters on the cheeks before getting up from the couch to look for you.

"Here you are, honey. The kids told me that today you planted the daisy seeds I gave you... I'll bring more for you tomorrow and if you want something special, just ask, okay, honey?"

Yandere Sugar Daddy Link

He has no shame as I said, he would have no qualms about putting security cameras all over the house so he can see everything you and the kids do when he is working in his office, he would even ask the kids in front of you what they did that day, what YOU did that day, even though he has already seen everything, of course. But he wants to see if they are honest.

His son is more vague with his answers, although the boy wants his father to feel proud of him, he does not want to betray you, his daughter on the contrary tells her father everything from what she did that day, what her brother did, what you did, what the maid did, what the neighbors did... she rants happily while her father listens attentively with a smile on his lips.

"Look at that dear, our little princess is quite an observer, she sees everything. And she would never hide anything from her daddy, right little princess?"

[eulaties]

general thoughts about the 2025 小红书 boom

i feel like we're at a really interesting point in time right now, particularly in regards to the shift in american consciousness + changing world order, so i thought it would be fitting to document my thoughts about the xhs situation as a chinese american. however, please note this post is NOT speaking on behalf of any community, and i am only speaking to my own personal opinions.

the good

american propaganda is getting dismantled in real time. there's so much cross-cultural communication right now in relation to america's political issues, everyday life, and what china is really like

im already seeing people starting to learn the language, becoming interested in visiting china, etc. and i truly haven't seen this kind of mass interest in chinese culture in a long time

to be precise, the last time there was really "chinese soft power" in america was during the mid-to-late 2000s. notably this time period included the 2008 beijing olympics which was monumental for china on the global stage, as it showcased their prosperity, openness ("北京欢迎你"), and equal footing in the modern world. ive seen people compare the xhs phenomenon to this event and while both are drastically different, i do think this is an apt comparison (though obviously this xhs thing is on a muchhh smaller scale...)

so many new friendships and connections are being made!

the bad

to add on to what op said, theres definitely a difference between just generally understanding that as diaspora, most people around you will hold sinophobic views about china and chinese people VERSUS actually having empirical evidence that most normal people didn't see chinese people as human before. its jarring to say the least. like everyone is praising chinese people on xhs now, but just last week everyone was fearmongering about us?? really reminds you that in the eyes of the public, favor for any asian culture (and by extension, its people) is fleeting and will often change easily with the season

and yes, its definitely weird to see people talk about chinese people as if they've never seen a chinese person in america before. like obviously there's a HUGE difference between mainlanders and diaspora, but there's also international students that come to america to study so... ??

the memes are funny, and i like how the people on xhs are playing along with them, but something about the "chinese spy" memes rubs me the wrong way. tbh, most mainlanders actually have a positive view of westerners and america, and if they don't study abroad themselves or know anyone that went abroad, they will never truly understand what it's like to be discriminated against simply for being chinese (there's a difference between knowing and understanding ofc; not saying that they're ignorant & don't know anything lol). this is just the honest truth, just like how i'll never understand what it's like to live and grow up in mainland china since im diaspora. anyways, i kind of question if mainlanders are actually aware of the loaded context behind those words. while americans are using the "chinese spy" memes as jokes now in reference to why tiktok is getting banned, it doesn't change the fact that many other americans truly do believe that there is mass chinese surveilliance/planted chinese spies in america (i.e., see modern-day mccarthyism, like how chinese researchers are often stripped of their titles/reputations, interrogated, and then silently deported). like language and framing does matter, and it has actually affected chinese people in america, but now you guys are treating it like a joke?

anyways, even with all of the bad there's still overwhelming good that has come out of this, and i do feel like its better to be more positive than negative about these things in the long run! who knows where tomorrow will take us but at the very least i hope everyone actively continues pissing off the american government 💖 amen

[randomshyperson]

I'll Keep You Warm - Wanda Maximoff Oneshots

summary: During a mission, Wanda needs to keep warm, and there's no one better suited for the job than a demigod with fire powers.

words: 2.701k | warnings: this is not explicit at all but there's undressing and some innuendos, actually super fluff, friends (rivals) with mutual pining, attempt at humor (sometimes I think I'm funny), takes place after civil war, reader actually have the same personality as johnny storm because he's the only fire powered character I could think of while writing.

A/N-> Honestly, this was entirely based on the scene of Jacob warming up Bella in Twilight. It was requested as a challenge by @abimess about three years ago, and it's finally here. Never stop believing your request will see the light of the day guys (does this expression exist in English as well?)

General Masterlist | AO3 | Wattpad |

-&-

Stake out missions are always a pain, but there's a code among the Avengers, and that's why instead of relaxing on some paradise island, you're in Siberia, collecting evidence for Natasha Romanoff.

To be fair, this was more of a favor to Nat than an Avengers duty, since the team was currently on a political tightrope, with half the people here and half somewhere else, with government contracts between them and councils all over the world. In the midst of all this mess, Natasha had discovered that the Red Room was not only operational, but also had a hundred thousand widows out there. The operation to locate and rescue these women was understaffed, and well, that's how you ended up in the Siberian winter with a grumpy witch and a synthezoid.

It turns out that the revelation that the Red Room was still operating was the exact kind of argument that the Avengers could use to exist, only super spies like Nat or Clint could find the widows, and well, only people like you, and the other Avengers could deal with that kind of power and influence. So while Natasha took care of the bureaucratic part, you and the others helped with everything else.

Stark and Cap were somewhere in Peru, and you envied a little the reconnaissance pictures that Tony sent to the group that contained the most beautiful tourist landscapes he visited with the justification of 'you never know where a black widow might be hiding' while you froze your ass with the people who liked you the least on the team.

Well, Vision didn't like you. In the same quantity as you hated him.

Wanda is a special case. You like to annoy her because she's really cute when she's mad, and she, although she's probably the most powerful person on the team and has full capacity to do so, has never put a definitive end to any of your torments towards her.

It was more of a game of teasing and friendly rivalry than mutual hatred.

The only thing you really disagreed on was the strange relationship she had with Vision, which always made you cross some line and say something stupid that would make her angry for weeks.

And it was also the reason you had offered to keep watch in the snow outside the hideout, while the two of them were safe and warm inside.

But only a few hours into the mission - Steve had already confirmed his status, as had Sam, who was in France, also having a great time as a tourist - when your slumber was interrupted by the sudden appearance of Vision, making you jump a little from the wooden chair.

"I wasn't sleeping!" You exclaimed immediately, to which the robot only sighed in reprimand, without comment. As you adjusted your posture and forced the sleep away, he stepped away from the canvas of the tent he had just crossed and cleared his throat.

"I require your assistance, Miss L/N." He begins, making you look at him in surprise.

The formal way Vision speaks always seems strange to you. You laugh shortly, raising an eyebrow at him.

"Do you now, huh?"

That damn proud robot doesn't lose his composure under your irony. 

"As you may have noticed, the temperature has dropped considerably." 

You hum at his words, shrugging.  "I didn't, actually. Perks of being a demigod, I guess."

Vision sighs impatiently. "Well, the human in the group is cold." He explains grumpily, and you laugh in confusion.

"Sorry, I thought you were the one taking care of that, microwave." You retort, remembering well how Wanda, who must have been wearing three different coats the last time you two talked, grumbled the whole way about the snow, and how Vision seemed so pleased with himself when he offered to keep her warm with the heating function of his metal body.

So it was strange to see him standing there, begrudgingly asking for help.

"I was." He grumbles. "But my body... well, it overheated. I can't keep it that high heat for too long without damaging myself. Unlike you, of course. So I thought-"

"That I would save the day?" You interrupt, feigning some disinterest and then sighing. "Well, I don't know, I don't feel like a hero tonight." You sigh again, glazing him through the corner of your eye. "Maybe if you say please."

He chuckles incredulously. "You want me to beg you to save a teammate's life?" He retorts indignantly. "Maybe I should just report on your attitude. I'm sure Miss Romanoff will be happy to know what we've been wasting our energy on instead of the mission. Ridiculous arguments and-"

You burst out laughing, gesturing. "Dude, you need to lighten up. I'm obviously joking." You cut him off, standing up. "Take my watch. I'll keep your girlfriend warm."

If Vision could blush with anger, he probably would. He huffs, giving you room to get inside the tent.

"Just so you know, Miss Maximoff and I don't have that kind of relationship," he grudgingly clarifies, and you almost get the impression that this is something Wanda has asked him to do whenever someone - you - assumes differently.

You laugh, irony dripping onto your tongue as you retort, "I'm so sorry to hear that." And you imitate the sounds of fireworks and cheering, escaping a push from Vision to slip into the tent.

Even with your powers, it was easy to see how cold and damp it was in there. The tent, while spacious, didn't have much ability to accumulate heat from the fire pit outside or the small wood heater in the corner of the room, and almost all of your attitude disappeared when you caught a glimpse of the shivering figure on the camping mat.

Almost.

"Fear no more, Maximoff, your knight in shining armor is here." You teased, earning a small laugh from her.

Wanda adjusted herself to make room for you on the mattress. "Shut up, and get over here already."

Despite moving immediately, you retort, “Bossy,” which only makes her hide a smile against the pillow.

It should have been awkward, cuddling with a teammate, but as you adjusted and hugged her, it was only hard to ignore how Wanda seemed to have been molded for you. She fit perfectly against your body, and you tried not to blush at the sigh of relief she let out as she snuggled into your warmth.

“Thank you.” She sighed, eyes closed, hands moving inside your jacket. 

Your arms were around her, legs intertwined beneath the blanket that was no longer needed, and you didn’t trust your voice much to say more than a hoarse:  “Don’t mention it.”

A moment of silence passes, and then another. Your thoughts wander between Wanda, the Avengers, and what Natasha would say about how you’ve chosen to spend your time. Maybe Vis is right, and you’ve wasted enough moments that being used as a human heater is your only way to keep Wanda close. Maybe it’s too late to be anything else.

The silence stretches longer, and you almost think Wanda has fallen asleep, and you’re almost considering doing the same, when she groans.

“You’re being loud.”

Opening your mouth to defend yourself because you’re sure you haven’t said a word in the last few minutes, you shut yourself up before you do, as you realize the telepath snuggled against your chest was surely talking about another kind of noise. You snort lightly, folding your arms behind your head. The lack, even a little, of the warmth of one of them on her shoulders makes her groan in protest.

“If you weren’t nosy, you wouldn’t hear a thing.”

You snap back rudely, but Wanda chuckles, quite comfortable moving one of her hands inside your shirt. Your skin is considerably warmer without a fabric between you two, and it makes her hum in satisfaction.

"Yes, that's better." She whispers sleepily, hiding her face in the crook of your neck. The position becomes less and less platonic with each adjustment Wanda makes, but you would never complain.

You try to relax with so much contact - it's especially difficult now that you can smell Wanda's shampoo so directly, almost intoxicating all your senses with it. - And you're almost getting used to the sensation, when she grumbles dissatisfied.

"Why am I still cold?" There's a soft scratch of her nails against your lower back that makes you clear your throat and think of anything other than the sensation, in scenarios very different from this one.

You consider mumbling something about it being too cold outside for her to warm up in five minutes, and telling her to stop moving and wait a bit, but Wanda tries to repeat the skin-to-skin idea from before by adjusting herself so that she's practically all over you, both hands under your shirt. And that makes you jump in fright.

"Wow, slow down there, tigress." You scoff, really embarrassed now, and Wanda raises an eyebrow at the color in your cheeks - which increases considerably when she sits against your hips, hovering over you.

She looks at you with some curiosity, a smile playing on her lips. You have the impression that her eyes glow red for a second before she retorts:

"Don't act like this isn't your dream come true." She teases, half-joking and half-serious, you can only swallow hard as you stare into her eyes.

"I have no idea what you're talking about." You retort, well aware that a quick peek into your mind would tell Wanda that you know exactly what she's talking about.

But despite her skills, she's either too tired or too cold to do nothing more than let out a short laugh and roll her eyes.

"Can you stop thinking about dirty things for a second and help me out?" She grumbles, and you'll probably agree with anything this woman says while she's on top of you. She starts to take off her sweatshirt, and you forget how to breathe. Your expression brings a blush to her cheeks, but she doesn't lose her composure. "Stop it."

Yep, she can definitely hear your thoughts.

You clear your throat, adjusting yourself to cover your face with your arm, and block that sinful image before you.

"You stop." Is your answering grunt, to which Wanda gives a tense chuckle. "What the hell is this now? Undressing on my lap."

Wanda, who has already discarded all her sweaters on the floor, rolls her eyes. You're not looking, but she seems to be having a great time.

"You don't pay attention to anything, do you?" She retorts, and sighs to herself when she realizes that with all the movement, she now can see part of your abs exposed by the shirt. The anatomy of the gods was something really unfair and hard to ignore and Wanda is grateful that you are covering your eyes, because she can hide her own reaction from you.

"I pay attention to too many things if you ask me." You mumble, but Wanda ignores your answer, busy removing her shirt. With a sports bra being the only thing covering her torso now, she moves her hands to the edge of your jacket. With the gentle tug, you startle again, and stare at her in shock when you realize her lack of clothes. "F-for Odin, what the hell-"

"I need skin-to-skin warmth, you perv." She retorts firmly, even though her face is burning. You stammer in amazement, unable to look away from the cleavage in front of you—which is too close when Wanda pushes your jacket off. “You didn’t pay attention in any of those survival classes they organized for us, did you?” She insists on making conversation, but you’re mumbling sincerely:

“I don’t think I’d know my name right now if you asked me.” Wanda chuckles, rolling her eyes. Your jacket falls down your back, and she reaches for the hem of your shirt. 

“Take it off.” 

“Won't even take me to dinner first, Maximoff?” You scoff, even though you’re complying. Wanda loses a bit of confidence at your exposure, clearing her throat when she realizes she’s staring.

She ignores her own reaction, looking away as she explains; “You probably don’t understand this because you’re not entirely human, but it’s really cold right now. I just need a little more warmth.” 

You smile at her, moving your hands to her hips, making Wanda sigh as you start to play with the knot of her sweatpants. “Are you really going to take it all off, Maximoff? I knew you were hardcore, but damn…” 

She groans in embarrassment, for the first time that night. Covering her face with her hands, you laugh at the sight. “This would be so much easier if you didn’t keep thinking the things you’re thinking.” She mutters. “It’s so annoying.” 

You laugh, tugging at the knot so it comes loose. The slight slack in her sweatpants that allows you to see more of her hips makes you sigh. “Well, I’m still fifty percent human. No one is ironclad against a pretty girl on their lap. Oh, wait, your boyfriend is.”

Wanda takes her hands away from her face to hold your wrists away from her hips but still in your lap. "Vision isn't my boyfriend." 

You narrow your eyes at her suspiciously. "But he's something." She hesitates, letting go of your wrists. 

"Yeah, just like you are." She murmurs, taking you by surprise. She sighs then, adjusting her hair. "Friends, roommates, teammates. It doesn't matter what you call it."

You smile. "How about... personal heater?"

She laughs, shaking her head. "Shut up and take off your pants."

Despite the raised eyebrow, you don't say anything else. There's a pull apart, so that the two of you can strip down to your underwear. You do that fairly quickly, because even with your powers, you can feel how cold Wanda's skin is now.

But once you're settled under the covers again, Wanda can breathe a sigh of relief. She resists the urge to dig her nails into your back, feeling your body covering hers, and now skin to skin, the temperature rises much more quickly.

You’re also kind enough to emit more heat, and Wanda can’t resist hiding her face against your neck when your arms wrap around her completely. 

It’s a very tender moment between you. Wanda doesn’t want to think about how vulnerable she is, trusting you completely to keep her alive. And she also doesn’t want to think about how much better this feels than anything she’s ever felt. The safety inside your arms leaves her breathless. Suddenly, she finds herself asking; “Did you really mean all the things you were thinking?” 

You laugh shortly, your fingers moving to caress her hair and Wanda can’t help the gasp that escapes her lips at the sensation. “I don’t want to have this conversation while you’re having a hypothermia episode, Maximoff.” 

“I’m not—” 

“I paid attention in survival classes.” You interrupt her. "One of the most common signs of hypothermia is confusion, and one of the desperate actions people tend to have is to remove all clothing. You're lucky I can warm you up so quickly."  She says nothing to that, finally realizing that she's stopped shivering, and her thoughts are much clearer than before. She's no longer desperate to get warm, because she's not cold at all now. Wanda is ready to thank you, when you add, "Of course, there are still ways to warm you up even more..."

You move your head, and playfully bite her cheek, making her squirm with laughter before pinching you on the corners. You're still laughing when she turns inside your embrace, pouting but not pulling away from you.

With your arms firmly around her, you adjust your mouth to her ear.

“Go to sleep, you need to.” You whisper, smiling at the way she tries to hide her body’s reactions from you. “I’ll keep you warm through the night.”

She reaches out to intertwine her hand with yours, and rest it on top of her stomach. When you two finally fall asleep, you have matching smiles on your faces.

[hgfictionwriter]

Possession

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: It's no surprise that girls flirt with Jessie anytime she's out. That's irritating enough to begin with, but when she does nothing about it? It's even worse. And frankly, you've had enough.

Warnings: G!P content. Slight angst. Possessive sex and language. Marking. Risky sex. Slight breeding kink.

A/N: Inspired by this request.

“The Jessie Fleming? At my table? Who knew I’d get so lucky.”

You fought back the urge to roll your eyes. Instead, you glanced over at your girlfriend to see her cheeks flushing red and a sheepish smile on her face.

“Oh. Hi. Nice to meet you,” Jessie greeted the server.

“Naomi,” the server introduced herself as she extended her hand to Jessie, which Jessie, of course, shook. She was nothing, if not polite. The woman gave a satisfied smile. “Nice to meet you as well. I’ll be taking care of you today.”

The woman continued to give her spiel and you tried to not react as she paid extra attention to Jessie throughout. By the time she took orders and left, Kelli and Sam were holding back snickers over how flirtatious the whole interaction had become.

Jessie, however, simply looked around the table with a perplexed frown. For someone so smart and observant, she could be unbelievably clueless sometimes.

“What’s so funny?”

Sam and Kelli exchanged looks with you and you simply looked away. You weren’t in the mood to engage.

“She was very friendly. That’s all,” Sam eventually said, pulling another laugh out of Kelli.

Jessie’s frown didn’t diminish and Kelli caught your eye but you waved her off. There was no point in getting into it or making it into something more.

You tried to carry on with your evening as best you could. The way the table and seats were situated, one chair on each side of the table, you couldn’t easily cuddle up with Jessie. Sure, you leaned in, placed a hand on her leg now and then, but weren’t exactly staking a claim.

And frankly, you didn’t really want to have to. It shouldn’t just be you all over her; you wanted Jessie to claim you, too.

Your friends and family knew you were together, but Jessie made no effort to make things more public than that. You’d kissed her cheek one time while out for coffee and she muttered and withdrew when she thought she saw some phones come out to take pictures. She was fine with your loved ones knowing about your relationship, but she didn’t want to invite the public into it.

You didn’t mind at first. It made sense and you weren’t keen to be on display either. But as the months wore on and Jessie continued to be flirted with relentlessly, your patience grew thin.

It also really didn’t help that Jessie was oblivious to girls advances most times. Perhaps it should’ve made you feel better that she didn’t outright reciprocate, but it typically meant she accepted it and wouldn’t shut it down.

Tonight was a prime example. Naomi stopped by your table more often than others, engaged Jessie in conversation - including somehow getting Jessie to offer her tickets to an upcoming game. By the time Naomi returned to your table with a free drink just for Jessie, you’d had it.

“Do you want some?” Jessie asked innocently as she held up the drink to you.

“No,” you responded flatly, not even offering her a glance.

“Oh,” Jessie said quietly, holding the glass mid-air awkwardly for a second or two before taking a sip. She held out the glass again. “It’s really good.”

“Congrats,” you deadpanned as you folded your arms and sat back in your chair.

“Mm I need to go to the bathroom,” Sam mumbled, her and Kelli nudging each other.

“Yeah me too,” Kelli said as they both got up to give you two some space. You spied how Jessie’s eyes followed them momentarily before she looked over at you and leaned in, speaking discretely.

“Are you okay? You seem a bit…agitated.”

You couldn’t help but give her a sidelong glance. She held your gaze as you locked eyes, but you caught her swallow.

“You really have to ask?” You inquired wearily. She frowned, gaze flitting away as she wracked her brain.

“Jess,” you said in tired frustration, “this server has been hitting on you all night.”

“What?” Jessie asked, face screwing up in confusion. You shot her a withering look.

“Come on. She is laser focused on you. Complimenting you like crazy. Randomly talking with you. A free dessert for you. A free drink. Now, mind you, you did offer to get her tickets for a game, so, who can blame her, really,” you finished with a scoff, your irritation rising.

“Babe,” she refuted as she held up her hands in both confusion and defense. “She was just talking with me. And the dessert was for all of us. And I was just being polite. She said her nieces really want to go to a game!”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh. A knight in shining armour.”

“Y/N. You’re reading into things. She’s not flirting with me,” Jessie denied.

You rubbed your forehead, closing your eyes. “You know, your humility and kindness are some of your best traits. But sometimes, you’re just naive. And sometimes,” you exhaled heavily as you looked back over at her, “it’s just plain aggravating.”

Your temper flared as Jessie made a face at you.

“You’re totally blowing this out of proportion,” she stated.

You leaned your elbows on the table and rubbed your temples. You were tired of feeling this way. Like you were her girlfriend only when it was convenient, and just a bystander other times.

“Sure. Whatever you say, Jess,” you said quietly as you took a sip of your drink.

You heard her huff as you stared forward into the crowd of diners.

“Come on, don’t be like that,” she urged.

"Like what?" You ground out, though knowing it was dangerous to ask.

"I don't know. Jealous? It's not necessary," she said, her voice somewhere between stern and tentative.

"Mhmm," you said as you sat back and folded your arms against yourself.

You both sat in silence for several moments, neither of you making eye contact or making an attempt to converse. The tension was palpable and you felt your emotions beginning to bubble over the longer the silence persisted.

You looked around the room and eventually saw Kelli and Sam were just hanging out at the end of the hall where the restrooms were and clearly just waiting things out. You sighed and reached down to grab your belongings.

"I'm gonna head out," you announced flatly, still not looking over at her. Still, you caught her head snap over to you in your periphery. Your rose from your seat. "I'll transfer you whatever I owe."

"What?" She shifted in her seat, partially standing up but freezing partway as you threw your jacket on and pushed your chair back in.

"I'll call you tomorrow," you went on dully, offering her a glimpse with a forced, fleeting smile that was nothing more than for show. Jessie threw up her hands in confusion and protest.

"Where are you going?" She whispered, but tone high and tense.

"Night, Jess."

You caught Sam and Kelli's eyes as you were leaving and looked shocked, but you waved them off, mouthing, "I'll text you later."

The brisk night air felt sharp on your skin as you pushed through the doors of the restaurant and walked down the street. You held your arms tightly against yourself in an effort to stay warm and comfort yourself from the upset that was continuing to mount despite your departure.

"Y/N!"

It felt like your heart faltered as you heard that familiar voice calling your name. You heard her distant footsteps rapidly approaching as she ran down the street towards you. You pulled your arms in tighter and continued walking, refusing to look back.

"Hey," her voice was soft now and right behind you and you felt her hand on the crook of your arm as she pulled you around.

You looked away immediately, determinedly not looking her in the eye as though that would somehow prevent her from seeing the tears in your eyes. You frowned in annoyance as you wiped away a stray tear.

"Babe," she said sadly and you caught the way her face fell upon seeing you. She tried to pull you in, but you took a step back. She seemed to contemplate trying again, but ultimately just clasped her hands in front of herself and looked down at the concrete before up at you once again.

"What?" You snapped, feeling guarded and defensive, but still too vulnerable to meet her gaze.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," she said quietly, taking a small, tentative step towards you. "I didn't know all this stuff tonight was bothering you this much. I'm really sorry. You know I'd never mean to hurt you."

"I know," you practically huffed as you shifted your weight, popping a hip out and glancing at her briefly. "Whatever. It's stupid. It doesn't matter. I just want to go home."

"It's not stupid," she said gently, but firmly, seeking your eyes. "If it's upsetting you, it's not stupid and I want to fix it."

Sure, she could fix tonight, but you were both going to keep finding yourself in this situation over and over again unless if the context of your relationship changed. And you didn't want to force her hand.

"Whatever," you muttered. "It's not going to change. So, I just need to get over it if we're going to be together."

Jessie's posture straightened, drawing your eye to see her looking both concerned and confused.

"If we're going to be together?" She asked. "What does that mean?"

A wave of irritation swept over you and your shot her a glare.

"Meaning, I have to be okay being your 'secret girlfriend' and seeing women flirt endlessly with you week after week. That's not going to change at all until you're ready to go public - when I can actually kiss you in public or, heaven forbid, you kiss me. Hold me. Act like something other than my friend. Who can blame these girls for thinking you're single?"

Jessie withdrew, her features serious and contemplative as she processed your words.

"That's what this is about?" She asked. You flashed her a fake smile as you wiped away a residual tear and sniffled.

"Stupid, right?"

She frowned with a heavy exhale.

"No," she said gently, apologetically even. Her gaze fell and she scanned the ground in thought before facing you again. "I'm just a private person. I wasn't meaning to 'hide' you or to make you feel like I'm any less committed."

You shook your head, feeling the urge to remove yourself from this discussion.

"It's fine. It doesn't matter, Jess," you said faintly as you sniffled, irritated with yourself at the need to.

"It does," she countered. "What can I do to fix this?"

"I'm not going to dictate that. I don't want you doing anything simply because you think I'm demanding it."

She huffed lightly but spoke earnestly.

"I didn't think it was upsetting you or hurting you. Which, now that I think about it, was really ignorant of me. I'm a private person, yes, but I don't need to hide, and I certainly don't want you to think or feel like I'm hiding you. That's not the case. I'm so proud of you and proud to be with you." She reached out and coaxed you to hold her hands as she looked you in the eye and spoke. "I am happy to go public with you. I'm sorry it's taken me this long. But I'm yours and you're mine."

Your lip started to tremble as she finished speaking and she gave you the softest, sweetest smile as you ducked your head. She ducked her head in response to catch your eye.

"Can I kiss you?"

You couldn't speak and merely nodded, a laugh finally escaping you at the end at how ridiculous you felt. She smiled and cupped your cheek as she captured your mouth in a gentle kiss for any passerby to see.

You sniffled after she eventually pulled back. You were still fighting back tears, but smiled at her nonetheless. A small smirk formed on her face.

"Would a date night photo on Instagram change things?"

She pulled you in and had already started to lift up her phone to take a selfie. You swatted her hand down.

"Not now! I've just been crying, for God's sake," you laughed, somewhat bewildered. She blushed as she tucked the phone away.

"Oh right. Well, I still think you look beautiful," she said, pulling an affectionate eye roll out of you.

"You're a goof. A very sweet goof, at that," you relented.

"I'm your goof," she said with a smile. You stared at her a moment, taking her in.

"Is that so?" You asked lightly. Her smile grew crooked.

"Yeah," she said with a confused shrug. "Why wouldn't I be?"

"I'm not all that certain. That's all," you went on, a glint in your eye. She frowned, hesitating momentarily before retrieving her phone again.

"Well, I have other pictures of us I can post tonight."

You huffed silently, holding your eyes steady on her.

"That's not what I'm referring to," you said simply. "Yes, I do want that - it doesn't have to be tonight, by the way. But, I'm just saying there are other ways to prove you're mine."

"Oh," Jessie said, realization settling quickly on her face, phone forgotten once more. Her cheeks burned pink again and she couldn't quite hide the smile that was forming across her lips.

"Are you coming home with me tonight?" You asked sweetly as you toyed with the collar of her jacket.

Her smile grew full-blown. "I'd love to."

-----------

Your lips were locked with Jessie's as you pushed her backwards onto the bed. Her hands explored the skin of your back, pushing your shirt up as she did so. You moaned softly into the kiss as you coaxed her up the bed.

"You saying you're mine and I'm yours? That did something to me," you whispered in appreciation as you straddled her waist, very purposefully settling yourself on the prominent bulge in her jeans. You smiled into the kiss at the soft noise of want she made. You rocked your hips sensually into her and kissed her harder. "Now I want to hear it again and again."

Your kiss muffled her moan as her fingers dug into your waist and she pulled you down into her. It did nothing but encourage you to embrace this urge further.

You leaned back and moved your hands hurriedly under her shirt, pulling it off of her with an urgency she hadn't seen before. Her sports bra immediately followed and it had hardly hit your bedroom floor before you ducked your head down to start laying hard, marking kisses along her chest and up her neck. She moaned quietly under your attention, but soon found her voice.

"H-hey. I have practice tomorrow. Everyone's going to see and they're going to have a field day," she protested mildly. The way she held your waist firmly as she bucked up into you through her pants dismissed any kind of concern you may have had for her claim otherwise.

"Let them," you said simply as you sucked hard to leave a particularly large hickey on her chest.

"Ah, fuck," she moaned as one hand dug through your hair and she arched her back into you.

"I don't need to worry about you every time you're out of my sight, right?" You asked, a lilt in your voice as you trailed a finger down her chest.

"No," she answered immediately. "I'm yours."

"Well, with a woman as gorgeous as you, one can't be too sure," you answered as you began to mark up her torso. "Make sure that if any other girl makes a move, they'll see you're taken. You've already been thoroughly loved and you don't need someone else."

"Shit," Jessie said, her voice shuddering and you glanced up her body to see her looking down at you, eyes hooded, cheeks flushed. When you caught her eye she couldn't help but let out a soft laugh of awe, letting her head fall back against the pillow briefly with a smile before looking down at you again.

"You like being mine, baby?" You asked as you began to undo her pants. As you unbuttoned and unzipped them, moving the restrictive fabric aside, her cock sprang up within her boxer briefs, making itself even more known than before. You smirked smugly.

"Even if you don't know you're mine, your cock seems to."

Jessie exhaled roughly, fingers splaying through your hair.

"All of me knows, babe. Believe me," she told you emphatically.

You pushed down her pants and her boxer briefs, fully releasing her hard cock. Your core pulsed upon seeing her precum leaking from the tip and how it strained into the air, eager for you. You leaned down and kissed the head, slowly dragging your tongue across the tip to lick up the precum. You smiled as her hips instinctively jerked up towards you.

"Fuck," she breathed.

You looked up and her and began to strip off your clothes, fully removing hers as well and straddled her once more, your dripping core poised an inch or two above her aching cock. You could see her breathing was deep, but quick, her eyes transfixed between your legs as she subconsciously licked her lips and massaged your thighs with her strong fingers.

"Let's make sure all of you knows," you stated as you leaned forward, your finger and thumb softly grasping her chin and titling it up to kiss you.

One hand of hers remained at the crease between your hip and thigh, and the other came up cup the side of your neck, pulling you into an eager kiss.

Your smug smirk persisted as you pulled back and grasped her hot length in your hand, lining her up at your entrance and slowly sinking down onto her. You relished the way her head fell back into the pillows and how her eyes fluttered shut, mouth agape as your heat embraced her.

"God, you feel fucking amazing," she praised as she opened her eyes once more only to be mesmerized by how you rose up to the tip before swallowing her member within you once more.

You leaned forward kissing her again.

"You know why it feels amazing?" You asked as you rolled your hips up before sinking down on her, bottoming out. Your mouth fell into an 'o' at the sensation of being filled so well. Your wet pussy was getting the base of her cock and her groin slick with your arousal. "Because your cock was made for me."

"Holy shit," she muttered into the kiss as she brought both hands back to your hips, her fingers digging in nearly painfully as she began to rock her hips up into you to meet your thrusts. "Fuck, baby. Yes, I was made for you."

You gasped into the kiss and dug your fingers into the front of her shoulders. You arched your back as you rode her.

"No one else," you told her as your pace quickened and she easily met you. The sounds of her skin clapping against yours rang through the room.

"No one else," she affirmed as held your gaze and began to thrust harder into you from below.

"You're going to tell everyone about us," you went on. "You're going to tell everyone that you're mine."

A small grunt of pleasure escaped her as she breathed heavily, eyes fixed on yours and not tearing away. "I'll tell everyone I'm yours. I want everyone to know that I belong to you."

A cry fell from your lips at her declaration and you bit your bottom lip as tightness began to mount in your core.

"No matter how many girls flirt with you, I want them to know that you're mine. That you chose me," you panted.

"I don't want any of them," Jessie proclaimed as she held you and thrust up into you. "I only want you."

You saw the way tension began to settle in her face; a look you knew all too well and a telltale sign that her climax was fast approaching.

"I want you to cum for me," you urged her as your hands firmly roamed her chest and abs. "Show me you're mine."

Jessie's mouth was agape as she panted and met your thrusts without fail. She glanced down, taking in how you were riding her so well and her nails dug into your skin. She looked back up to meet your eyes.

"I love you, Y/N. I'm yours. Only yours."

"Then cum for me, baby," you said as you bounced up and down on her length, claiming her. "Fill me up and show me you're mine."

Her body tensed up under you and she gripped you tighter than ever as she thrusted deep inside of you, spilling herself into with a shuddering cry.

She pulsed within you, rope after rope of her cum filling you and marking you as she pulled you tightly down against her, her breath hitching as she rode out her orgasm.

When she was done cumming, she relaxed underneath you, her head falling heavily into the pillows and her eyes closing and her chest heaved up and down as she worked to catch her breath.

You looked down at her, now fully recognizing the red marks and bruises you'd left on her body in your wake of possessiveness. Maybe you'd feel a bit apologetic tomorrow, but in this moment, it just made you core pulse with need.

She was softening inside of you, but when you felt you'd given her enough of a break, you began to rock your hips subtly against her.

"Seeing you marked up like this, laying there spent, your cock warming inside of me, it has me craving you all over again," you told her.

She groaned deep in her chest as she opened her eyes to watch you sultrily rocking atop of her.

"Fuck, you're going to get me hard again," she chuckled.

You winked at her. "That's kind of the point, my love."

She exhaled steadily as she grasped your hips again and began to roll her hips up into you.

"Well you know I'm ready to go for you at any time," she smirked as she watched your hips. She smiled fully as she shifted her gaze up to your eyes. "I'm yours, after all."

"And I fucking love you for that," you whispered as you leaned down to capture her lips in a kiss.

A small squeal escaped you, muffled by her lips as she flipped you both, you now on your back with her resting atop of you between your legs.

"We've been talking a lot about how I'm yours," she said as she began to kiss her way down your neck, a series of small gasps already escaping you as you writhed underneath her, feeling her cock growing hard and full inside of you once more. "But I want to hear about how you're mine." You subconsciously punctuated her demand with a small moan.

"I know I'm not the only one who wants you," she growled as she rolled her hips into you and nipped at your neck. "And I don't like the thought of other people thinking they have a shot with you."

You gasped, your core tightening around her. "They don't," you told her.

"And why is that?" She asked as she began to suck on your neck, making sure to leave a bruise.

"Because I'm yours," you told her unequivocally.

"Well how are they going to know that if I don't mark you? If there isn't a way for them to see that you belong to me?"

"Oh fuck," you gasped and she began to draw her hips back fully and sink completely into you in a slow, purposeful pace.

"At the very least I need to leave some hickeys," she said lightly as she switched sides. "At a glance someone will know you've already been taken." She grasped your hands and pinned them above your head. "Maybe a ring someday. That'd do the trick." She drew her hips back and thrust firmly into you, drawing a cry of pleasure from you. "Best of all though, would be if you were holding my baby on your hip, another one inside of you, rounding you out. Fuck. There'd be absolutely no doubt, then."

"Oh my God," you said, voice quivering with arousal at her words. You could feel yourself spilling onto the sheets below you. Maybe it was her cum from before or your endless arousal; you couldn't be sure, but you were absolutely throbbing with need for her.

She continued to mark you up as she pleasured you patiently and skillfully. You writhed beneath her, her hand holding yours in place above you.

"I want to touch you," you pleaded. She released your hands with no protest.

"Take me, Jess," you said as your hands wandered wildly along her back, her body unable to stay still.

"My cum's already deep inside of you," she mumbled against your skin with a smirk. "I'd say I've already taken you." She lifted herself up to look down at you. "But I can't get enough of you. I want to take you over and over. Make you mine every time so you never forget."

"I could never," you panted.

"You are the only one I need," she told you as she began to quicken her pace, the bed beginning to creak beneath her movements. "I want to make sure I'm the only one you need."

"God, you fuck me so good, Jess. You're all I need," you assured her as you pulled her down tightly onto you again, wanting the heat of her skin directly on as much of you as possible.

"You're my girl," she whispered adoringly against you as her hips thrust into you.

"I'm your girl," you reiterated, panting in her ear as she fucked you harder and deeper into the mattress.

"Oh God, nobody's ever made me feel this good," you said as the wet sounds of her cock driving in and out of your slick pussy overwhelmed you.

"And no one else ever will because you're mine now," she told you.

"Oh God," you whimpered as you clawed up her back and simply held on as she fucked you senseless.

"I'm going to cum again," she told you. "Where do you want it?"

"Inside me. Please. Always," you panted. "I want you to cum inside me. Claim me."

"Right answer," she said smugly as she began to dig her knees deeper into the bed, giving herself more leverage as she began to pound into you with enough force that your body was being shimmied up the bed until your head began to jostle against the headboard.

"Here it comes, baby," she said. "Gonna make you mine again."

"Please, Jess, please. I need it," you whimpered.

Immediately, she was grunting over top of you, her rapid thrusts halting as she ground her hips into your heat, pouring her cum as deep inside of you as possible.

You spasmed around her cock, gripping it rhythmically as radiant heat filled you as your orgasm overtook you. You name was on her lips and echoing off the walls of your room for all the neighbours to hear.

She laid heavily on top of you, cock softening inside of you once more, as you both rested in the wake of your climaxes. Her weight on top of you made you feel safe and secure and you didn't want her to move.

In time, she pushed herself up off of your torso, laying gentle, sweet kisses to satiate you as your hummed in complaint.

"I don't want to crush you, baby," she told you. Despite your denial, she lifted herself up fully onto her knees, drawing back to where the head of her softened cock was the only thing left plugging your entrance.

"Let's see how much of a mess we made," she said with a teasing smirk as she pushed down on her cock so it popped out of you. A smile spread across her face and her eyes lit up as cum began to drip out of you to further stain the sheets.

"Fuck. With the way you make me cum, your pussy really was made for me," she said as she dipped two fingers inside of you to scoop out some cum. She showed you briefly before pushing it back inside of you. She smiled at you. "Right where it belongs."

[writing-nothing-but-spilled-ink]

No cause you know what would be funny as fuck Ras Al ghul randomly showing up to the Wayne Manor and just letting himself in doesn't wait for anyone to let him in and he doesn't even tell Talia he's stopping by Wayne Manor and it's the anniversary of Jason's rebirth and Ras accidentally missed Damian's birthday because he was out of the country so here he is just waltzing into the manor here's how I think it'll go

Ra's: breaks into Wayne Manor and bee-lines to the batcave cause his spies told him Damian and Jason were down there

Bruce:has his back turned to the entrance in the middle of lecturing Jason for being reckless and for rigging his batmobile to shoot fucking glitter bombs whenever he tried to fire any kind of projectile

Jason: come on it was funny and it worked honestly I thought you'd be happy no one's dead they're just covered in glitter

Bruce: eye twitching

Damian: notices Ras just casually waltzing into the bat cave

Damian: hello grandfather

Bruce:spins around to find Ras in his lair bracing himself for a fight or some type of bad news only for ras to by pass him entirely and beeline to Jason and Damian

Ra's: snaps his fingers and assassin's come out of nowhere seemingly appearing from the shadows one is holding a bear cub with a little bow on its head and hands it to damian and steps back meanwhile another assassin appears with a giant stack of first edition leather bound classic literature and some rare ones that are almost unheard of to have

Ra's: HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY GRANDSON'S :)

Bruce: is baffled because why is Ras calling Jason his grandson where did he get a bear cub why is he gifting Damian a bear cub, Damian's birthday was a month ago wtf Bruce's eye is twitching

Jason: oooo these are really hard to get, oh all of these are leather bound this is awesome thanks gramps though it's not really my birthday is your memory going old man

Ra's: this is the anniversary of your rebirth

Jason: ...

Damian: I appreciate the gift grandfather I shall name this bear lilly

Bruce: Damian I ... Look okay.. it's nice your .. his eye is twitching and he's trying to not lose his patience because again wtf.. grandfather has put an effort into this uh. Gift but you simply can't keep a bear in the manor much less in Gotham it's a wild animal

Damian: 😐 so isn't Jason and we keep him around and he gets to waltz around Gotham and the manor

Jason: hey listen here ya little shit

Bruce: exasperated first off your brother is not an animal secondly I'm not sure it's legal to keep a bear cub as a pet in Gotham

Damian: like running around Gotham dressed as a bat to beat up bad guys is legal, or that time you purposely broke into Arkham asylum to free Selina Kyle because her input on your suit was just sooooo important

Bruce: looks to Alfred

Alfred: well we do have the land space to build a sanctuary for the cub and the permits it would be quite an easy task to say the Wayne foundation is funding a bear sanctuary

Damian: ☺️ thank you Alfred

Bruce: turns to Ras why would you gift Damian a bear cub

Ra's: it was on his wishlist, and only the best for my grandsons, also you owe me child support

Bruce: ready to throw hands at this point

Alfred: smirks

Jason: trying really hard not to laugh

Ra's: ofcourse I'll let it go if you let the boy keep the bear cub in fact I have another gift but it won't be arriving for about a week 🙂.. he then turns to Damian you should give your mother a call she said something about wanting to plan something I'm really not sure what it is she's on about but regardless I think she'd like your input ... Well actually both your inputs

Bruce: sighs fine they get to keep the bear and we'll build the damn sanctuary but Damian i expect you to have it at least potty trained and do not under any circumstances let it in the kitchen I do not need a repeat of last time you got a new pet

Ra's: happy that he's annoyed the fuck out of Bruce and got his grandsons Great gifts my job here is done he claps his hands and his assassins fade back into the shadows

Jason: already lounging on a couch reading

Damian: holding the bear in his arms and patting it let's go get you some apples covered in honey 😊 walks out the cave with the bear cub

[beanarie]

okay. so this is part 4 of the temperature of becoming something (aka "buck takes a mental health break"). meaning it takes place before the one i posted yesterday and that guy is part 5. cool? 👍 cool. all the previous parts can be found on #things by beanarie or #my writing

~

Chim, busy as he is, mostly just sends links. Or rather, link. The grief assessment Buck used to check in on everyone. If Buck doesn't respond with his score within an hour, Chimney starts telling progressively more disgusting anecdotes. There are a lot in his arsenal. He's been on the job a long time.

(Buck): +I should just block you++

(Chimney): +Cede to my demands and nobody's lunch gets ruined++

(Buck): +It was dessert this time. I'll never be able to eat raspberry cheesecake again++

(Chimney): +You know what you need to do, young man!++

Early on, Chim sent over a couple of license plate bingo cards. At first, Buck refuses to let himself count the cars he finds at large tourist traps, but the further he goes, and the more time stretches before he finds Rhode Island, he starts to get a little desperate.

He bought a road atlas on ebay, and every so often he traces the lines with his finger. Salt Lake to Cheyenne, then south on I-25 to Denver, and west again to Kansas City, then St. Louis.

Albert meets him in Memphis, bafflingly.

"I need advice on what to get Bo," he says. "You've spent much more time being their uncle than I have."

"Flights aren't cheap," Buck says. "Everyone expected you to go directly to LA."

Albert makes a dismissive gesture. "I'm doing okay. My father's competitor pays very well."

Outside a very loud, music-themed bar, Albert strikes up a conversation with a couple of very pretty teachers from Minnesota.

"So." Buck says, suddenly hyper aware of what his face is doing. "Uh, what subjects do you teach?"

At the Graceland gift shop, Albert gets Jee a tiny guitar and Bo a toy keyboard. Buck considers dissuading him, envisioning a series of early morning wake-up's in Chim and Maddie's future, but decides against it. Kids are supposed to make noise. It's healthy.

~

Maddie's voice is doing something funny, a little wheedling. "I, uh," she says. "I know you're kinda going where the wind takes you, but can I make a request?"

So, Orlando. Classmates went pretty much constantly throughout elementary school, with several trips happening in middle school and high school as well, especially for those with younger siblings. Buck wasn't sure exactly what to expect. The motels surrounding the various parks are oddly bleak, despite bright color schemes. This one is an eye-searing shade of fuchsia.

As usual, the first thing he hears is Jee's shout, and he goes down on one knee so she can run directly into his arms.

"There's my favorite girl," he says, tightening his hold marginally as he gets to his feet.

"I have a brother!" she yells into his ear. "We left him home with Daddy and Uncle Albert, but you should meet him!"

Buck laughs. "I know Bo. I haven't been gone that long."

"Oh!" Jee says. "You know he's really loud and stinky?"

"You were loud and stinky, too," Maddie says, amused. "Now let me hug my brother."

He lowers Jee to the ground, dangling her extra slow to make her giggle, and then looks at Maddie. "Hey," he says.

"Hey." She holds on for a long time. "I'm with the kid. It felt like you've been gone a lot longer than you have."

He looks at Jee, pulling on his hand, realizing he expected her to be bigger, more grown.

Buck feels the blood drain from his face when he spies the prices at the ticket booth.

"I know," Maddie says, shuddering. Jee is already jumping up and down at her side. "Thankfully I got discounted passes."

"How much of a discount?" Buck mutters.

She looks tired. "Don't ask."

Jee runs ahead of them as soon as they get scanned in. "Where's Elsa?!?"

After dropping them off at the airport, Buck heads south. Michael and David are thrilled to host him for the night, to talk about Bobby with someone who knew him as well as Michael did. It's awkward at first, Buck never spent much time with them one on one (or two on one), but with some great seafood the stories start flowing.

They're getting to the tail end of the call that almost landed them all in prison for bank robbery, and Buck wipes his eyes, still laughing a little. "You know, I told my ex this story, and this was the point where he had to tap out. He even called me a liar."

David nods furiously. "I don't blame him! The diamonds were in the guy the whole time? They're what actually killed him? No way."

"Interesting choice of pronoun there," Michael points out. His expression hasn't changed. "Bobby told me a little over the years about your romantic... let's say, mistrials with women. The reporter. The teammate; oh yeah, he was steamed about that one. Thought he'd have HR or whatever the LAFD equivalent is on his neck for allowing 'fraternization'."

"Oh, god." Buck hides his face in his hands.

"What ended up happening there?" Michael says. "He only mentioned it the once."

"We made out at a bar. One time. Never went any further than that." Buck doesn't mention that these two were actually simultaneous and that it led to some of the most shameful behavior of his adult life. "She transferred out not long after."

"Not because of you," David asks hopefully, throwing him a bone.

"No, she was actually a pilot. She went to air support. They had no openings for a while, I guess."

"Oh, a pilot, too!" Michael says, bringing him back to Maddie's kitchen. So, tell me about this hot pilot. "And what about this other ex, the he/him?"

Buck feels the flush coming out in his cheeks. "He's, um. He's a pilot as well."

David takes the bottle of wine and refills his glass. "So this woman you made out with was on your team and then your ex's team? Did she introduce you?"

"Oh, no. That's a whole 'nother story involving Bobby and Athena and a cruise and a hurricane. Also pirates? But I didn't get to see any."

After David goes to bed, Michael helps Buck get set up in Harry's room. Michael's expression is grave and unexpectedly awkward. "I could never ask Athena this, but-"

Buck breathes in for a count of five. "It's okay. No, he- he didn't suffer. Not really." He's thought about this a lot--even moreso after Eddie shot his mouth off--analyzed the day from every conceivable angle, to the finest minute detail. "The virus wasn't- wasn't +easy++ on him, but when he went downhill, his heart gave out pretty quick. I think his heart attack, you know? Or- Or his age."

Michael exhales shakily. "Okay. Thank you, Buck." There are tears in his eyes. "+Thank you++."

He embraces Buck hard. It feels nice.

Michael sniffles and lets go, patting Buck on the shoulder. "Do you want to stay another day? You're welcome to stick around a little longer."

"Thank you, but I have an appointment up north." And by that he means, if he wants to stop by Hershey without dealing with his parents, he's got ten days before they get back from LA. The trip itself, from point A to B, would only take a day and a half, but he wanted to do the North Carolina islands and he doesn't want to rush through it.

~

Getting to see his family and Bobby's people chips away enough of the concrete block for Buck to check his text thread with Eddie.

The first dozen or so are useless and dotted with attempts at guilting him via photos of Chris and the other kids. Buck is stronger now; he can recognize what Eddie is doing and keep scrolling. He does save the photos, though.

The thread ends in an interesting way.

(Eddie): +I started seeing Frank again. Chim and Hen strongly encouraged it. Ordered, more like.++

(Eddie): +It's teaching me things about myself I didn't want to own up to. I let Shannon down, hard. I can never make up for that. I don't want that for you and me.++

(Eddie): +I mean I hope you give me another chance. You're the best friend I ever had, Buck.++

Buck stretches out on the bed and initiates a call.

"Evan?"

His eyes slide across the ceiling. "What were you scared of, when you left me last year? Like, what was your worst case scenario?"

"Uh."

"Did it look anything like what I said to you in Eddie's kitchen?"

"Not entirely. Evan, can you tell me where you are?"

"I'm in a hotel. Don't call dispatch. I just realized I never apologized for that. It was shitty. You pissed me off, so I lashed out. That's not who I wanna be. It's not what you deserve, either."

"What do I deserve?"

"Someone good. Someone who looks at you the way you used to look at me."

"How did I look at you?"

Buck bites his lip. "Like you could love me."

"Evan, I..."

Buck waits until he can't hold his breath anymore. "What?"

"I shouldn't say it. You're vulnerable right now."

"I'm not drunk. And even if I was, there's not much you can do to me from there. I'm of sound mind."

"Fine, um. You used to look at me like that, too."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Sometimes."

"Can- Can I call you?"

"Now you're asking permission? The toothpaste is kinda out of the tube, big guy."

"I meant again. Regularly. We could talk."

"Talking would be novel for us. We could use some practice."

"Yeah. Yeah, right? We- We could."

"Got any topics on deck?" Tommy asks gamely.

Buck grins. "You ever heard of Ocracoke? It's an island south of Kitty Hawk. Most people know it as the place Blackbeard died. But did you know they kind of have their own language? A dialect, anyway. It's called High Tider. Isn't that cool?"

Tommy lets out a warm chuckle.

@hyperfocusthusly @chococara25 @peppermintquartz

[dreamdragonkadia]

As Written Above, So Shall It Be Below Part - II.I Word Count: 4.0k A/N: I'm on a roll with this fic. Feedback, comments, thoughts, and theories are always appreciated! Main Pairing: Rhysand/Reader/Feyre Prev - Next ✦ Ao3

How do you honor a dead Lady?

Prayers?

Fires?

Leaving her favorite pastries by that quiet lake she loved, hoping the scent might somehow reach her across the veil?

For someone as intimately familiar with grief as Azriel was—someone who had walked through death more times than he could count—this grief lodged in his chest in a way nothing else ever had, settled in the same spot as if Rhysand’s mother and sister died all over again.

He’d tried. Mother, he’d tried. For Rhys, who had barely spoken about it again since his return that first day and he told them all what happened. For Cassian, who threw himself into training so violently Az had to pull him out of the ring before he destroyed something—or someone. For Mor, who shut the doors to her chambers for three straight days and only opened them again when he brought her the wine you'd once sworn she’d hoard if the world ended.

But mostly—he tried for you.

He’d imagined what you’d say if you saw them unraveling.

“If you even dare let this court fall to pieces because I kicked the bucket, I’ll come back from the dead just to stab every one of you.”

You’d meant it, too. Gods, he could see you—hands on your hips, that haughty smirk on your face, as if death was nothing more than an inconvenience you’d eventually bully into submission.

So he gave himself a week. One week to mourn you.

Seven days of slipping into silence. Of flying to the places you used to haunt—the library balcony, the cliffs above the sea, the roof of the Court of Nightmares where you’d once dragged him for “peace and quiet” while you spied on the drama unfolding below.

You’d grin over the rim of your cup and say, “Spymaster, ShadowSinger, Prince of Brooding—gods help us if they knew you liked lavender tarts.”

He didn’t like them. Not really.

He just liked that you did.

And then a week turned into two. And then two into two months.

And it started to settle in. Not the kind of grief that screams and breaks. But the kind that lingers. That lives in the silence after someone says something funny and you turn, ready to share it with them—only to remember they’re not there.

That was the worst of it.

Because no one else had filled the space you left behind.

Not for Azriel.

Who else would he share the wildest Court gossip with and not feel ridiculous doing it? Who else would wink at him across a room, raise an eyebrow, and silently convey every sarcastic thought in your head before he’d even opened his mouth?

He didn’t tell anyone else what he learned now—not the juicy things, not the petty things. Only Amren asked. Because Amren knew.

She’d raise an eyebrow and mutter, “She would’ve loved this,” when he muttered some ridiculous tale of scandal from Hewn City.

And Az would just grunt, trying not to let it show that the silence after hurt more than the story itself.

There had been afternoons—hundreds of them, if he let himself count—when the two of you had lounged on sun-warmed balconies or curled in shadowy corners of the House of Wind, sipping tea and wine and trading secrets like coins. You, barefoot in your silk robes, legs tucked beneath you with all the elegance of a Queen and none of the formality. Him, still in leathers, shadows clinging to his shoulders, pretending to be uninterested in your antics—though it was always him who lingered longest.

“You’re the only male I trust not to ruin my tea set,” you’d teased once, swirling your cup like it held far more than tea.

“That’s because Cassian shattered three,” he’d muttered.

“And Rhys poured wine in the sugar jar.”

“He said it was an experiment.”

“He said it was romantic.”

You both had laughed.

And now… you were gone.

Gone so completely, so violently, without fanfare or warning, that perhaps he’d never known how to grieve you properly. That perhaps none of them had. The Inner Circle had fought wars and monsters, had faced a thousand different versions of sorrow.

You were not meant to be one of the losses.

Even Rhys, who had twenty years to process, and still nearly lost himself to the thought of it. The rest of them had two months to accept the silence.

Two months to unlearn the sound of your voice in rooms you once filled.

Azriel had tried to make peace with it. For your sake. For the court’s.

He told himself you'd want them to move forward, to keep going, to protect what mattered.

And yet—when the High Lady was first brought to the Night Court, half-wild and afraid, his very first thought wasn’t of how to secure her help or assess her power.

It was to find The Lady of the Night.

To ask how to make her feel more welcome.

Because it had always been you who knew what to say to strangers. You who could read a room in a single glance, then wield your words with surgical precision or devastating kindness. You who saw through armor better than anyone, even him.

But you weren’t there.

He hadn’t wanted Feyre to feel like a replacement. Hadn’t wanted her to feel the shadow of you hanging over her shoulder. So he’d said nothing. They had said nothing. He thought they all would remain silent until Rhysand chose to tell her.

But it hadn’t been Rhys.

It had been Mor.

She’d told Feyre one night, unprompted, in front of a portrait in that same soft fierceness she always used when talking about people she loved. Azriel hadn’t been there when it happened, but he knew the way Mor would’ve spoken—honest, reverent, a little sad around the edges.

And Feyre…

She hadn’t flinched from it.

Hadn’t been made smaller by your memory. She’d simply taken it in, let it settle, and carried it with grace.

And somehow, after that, something shifted.

Azriel found a strange sense of peace in Feyre—not because she filled the space you left, but because she never tried to.

Helping her train, teaching her to fly, guiding her through the endless frustration of learning to navigate her new body—it gave him purpose. A way to be useful again.

And maybe, in some quiet way, it helped him mourn.

And it hadn’t been Cassian or Amren that Feyre went to after her return from spring. Once she was sure her sisters were safe.

It had been him.

She found him on the balcony just before dawn, the wind curling through his wings. Her steps had been cautious, not hesitant—but respectful.

“I’m sorry,” she had said softly, voice barely louder than the wind.

And Azriel had known, without asking, what she meant.

She wasn’t apologizing for being High Lady.

She was apologizing for not discussing the marriage with them.

For stepping into a space they once imagined belonged to you.

But it was never about one replacing the other.

You were the Last Lady of the Night. That was what Amren still called without apology. That title—your title—had not been stripped or passed on. Feyre was their High Lady. Rhysand’s mate. The rightful ruler of a court she helped save.

There was no resentment in Azriel. No bitterness. No jealousy.

He had never once blamed Rhysand. Never blamed Feyre.

A part of him, even, was glad. Genuinely. That Rhys could know happiness. That the court could be rebuilt stronger after the war. That Feyre had brought them light.

And Feyre… She had never tried to erase you. She encouraged them to speak of you when they could. When they needed. She had looked him in the eye that morning and said, “She mattered to all of you. I would never ask you to pretend she didn’t.”

It had stunned him, how simply she understood.

He hadn’t known what to say at first. The words weren’t there, not fully formed. But eventually, as the sun began to crest the horizon, he found himself murmuring,

“You two would’ve balanced each other. Personalities, I mean.”

Feyre had smiled—small, sad, knowing.

Maybe that’s why he’d told her.

Why the next words slipped out before he had time to second-guess them.

“Did Rhys tell you she was older than us?”

Feyre blinked, clearly not expecting him to share anything more.

“No,” she said gently.

“The betrothal contract was signed when Rhys was eight. She was seventeen. We met her for the first time when Rhys was twelve. The last High Lord finally stopped stalling and brought her to the Illyrian camps.”

He could still remember that day. Every detail.

You’d walked into the training ring like you didn’t care that the snow was half-melted or that mud clung to your boots. Like you didn’t notice the way every male there had gone silent the moment you appeared.

You’d been beautiful, of course. All High Fae were, to some degree—but you had something else. That stillness. That grace. That regality that made even Cassian shut his mouth. For a moment, at least.

Dangerous. Cold. Composed.

Azriel had expected you to be like the others—distant, stiff, too proud to look twice at a camp full of winged brutes.

And then you’d tilted your head, looked straight at Cassian, and said:

“You look like trouble.”

It had startled a laugh out of Rhysand. Cassian had puffed up with mock offense.

And you had just smiled—not cold, not haughty. Just amused. Like you’d already decided they weren’t beneath you. Like you’d seen something in them worth noticing.

“Rhys’s mother hated the arrangement,” he added after a beat. “Wouldn’t let him return to Velaris long enough to meet her properly if she could help it. Kept hoping it would all fall apart. At first at least.” 

It hadn’t been a secret—not really.

Everyone knew the former Lady of the Night Court had resented the match, no matter how politically smart it had been. But politics had never impressed her much, and she hadn’t liked the idea of someone being chosen for her son. Especially someone she hadn’t approved of herself.

Cassian had reminded you of that fact every couple of years—usually when you teased him too hard or made him suffer through another formal event in polished armor and a tight cravat. He’d elbow you in the ribs and mutter, “You know, you weren’t even supposed to stick around.”

And you—Mother, you’d grin like you’d just won a war. A smug, feral little thing, flashing teeth and mischief and pride.

“But guess who ended up being her favorite?” you’d sing-song, sticking your tongue out at him with no regard for rank or dignity.

Azriel didn’t smile, not now, but the memory lit in his chest like an ember.

It wasn’t his story to tell—not the whole of it. Not the reasons why you’d become the Lady of the Night long before you ever officially wore the title.

Not how, after the first meeting, you had been the one winnowing in and out under High Lord orders. Quietly. Efficiently.

To check in.

To report back.

To observe.

You’d hated it. Gods, how you’d hated it.

Not the court, not the males—just the cold.

You made that fact perfectly clear, too. Never subtle, not with the way you bundled yourself in thick furs and spelled your boots to be self-heating. Rhys’s little sister, Estelle, had been the one to rat you out—tugging on Azriel’s arm one winter morning and whispering with a conspiratorial smile, “She says she’d rather be thrown in a volcano than have to watch another snowstorm roll through. Don’t tell her I told you.”

But Estelle had loved you. You’d visit her as often as you were allowed. She’d wanted to know her brother’s betrothed, had insisted.

And so you’d come. Again and again.

Winnowing through snowstorms with ice in your hair and a scowl on your face, dragging news and updates and biting sarcasm behind you like a cloak. You never complained directly—not in front of Rhys, at least—but Azriel remembered the way your hands never left your coat, the way your nose was always red, and how your curses in the cold became increasingly creative with each visit.

And still, you came.

Again and again.

And somewhere between those reluctant visits and those scouting trips into Illyria, between the way you learned every name in the camp and the way you watched their sparring matches with arms crossed and eyes noting details, you stopped being the political stranger they were told to tolerate…

And started becoming theirs.

The shift was subtle. Gradual. The kind of change that only makes sense in hindsight.

And maybe it became undeniable the first time Rhys’s mother had brought out her sewing kit one evening and began to stitch.

No one had dared ask at first.

But the truth slipped out in the way she muttered about “proper materials” for Illyrian winters and how “that girl’s coats are utterly useless.”

She didn’t say your name. She didn’t have to.

Because the next time you arrived, your coat had been replaced with one of her making. Lined with thick black velvet, buttons enchanted against frostbite, and seams so tight they wouldn’t let the wind through if it begged.

And she’d hovered. Gods, she’d hovered. Adjusting the collar. Tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear with surprising gentleness. Muttering about how "you’d catch your death otherwise."

Dotting on you like a mother hen.

And that was when they knew—when they all knew—that she had accepted it.

That she had accepted you.

Not because she’d been told to. Not because of a contract.

But because somewhere in those snow-covered camps and quiet exchanges, you’d become real to her.

Not a title. Not a duty. Someone.

And later when Rhys turned eighteen, it became clear just how deep that shift had settled.

His mother had told him, without room for argument, that the first dance of his birthday celebration would go to his betrothed. To you.

And no one questioned it. Not Rhys. Not Cassian. Not Azriel.

Because by then, there was no doubt.

You’d become a part of them.

And when the High Lord had grown fearful—had split Azriel from his brother to keep the court’s weapons separate—it was you he worked with most.

He had found something like peace in telling Feyre little things about you in passing. Letting himself accept the truth of your absence.

Until the night Mor found him.

She’d come to the lake just outside Velaris, breathless and pale, and spoken your name. Just once.

It was all it took.

And then—Elain’s words. The portrait. The vision. The way Mor’s voice trembled when she said, "Say I’m wrong. Say it’s impossible."

Azriel had listened to it all, stone-faced and silent.

And though he hadn’t said it aloud—hadn’t needed to—the stillness of his shadows, the way they pulled closer, tighter, was answer enough.

He hadn’t denied it.

Because deep down, in the quiet places even he rarely acknowledged…

He had wondered, too.

And when Mor finally whispered, “If there’s even a chance…”

He’d looked out over the water, exhaled slowly—

And said, “There’s a rumor.”

It had started during his investigation of the mortal queens, a sliver of information buried beneath layers of lies and manipulation. At the time, it had seemed like just another tactic—something Hybern had planted to distract, to confuse, to throw their enemies into disarray. And yet… something about it had stuck with him. 

And then, during the battle, they arrived.

Fae who had once been marked as fallen. As lost. As dead.

They came with Vassa, the mortal queen cloaked in fire, who walked beside those who should not have walked at all.

Azriel had watched them enter the camp, watched the way they held themselves—too quiet, too careful. Watched the way their eyes scanned the crowd, not searching for allies, but avoiding the ones who might recognize what they weren’t saying.

He had approached.

Asked the questions he wasn’t sure he was ready to have answered.

And they had only looked at him. Not with pity. Not with cruelty.

Just silence.

Intentional silence.

The kind that made his shadows curl tighter around him. The kind that said more than words ever could.

They knew something.

And none of them would speak.

But Azriel had seen it—that flicker of recognition, so brief most would’ve missed it. The twitch in one Fae’s mouth when your name passed his lips. The way another avoided his eyes, too quick to excuse herself. And the third—the one who glanced toward the sea like it might reveal a truth he wasn’t brave enough to say aloud. It had been subtle, careful. But not careful enough. He was the Shadowsinger. He noticed what others didn’t. And what he saw in those silences was enough.

Mor had not brought it up again. He hadn’t told a soul. And no one had questioned him when he said there were rumors to follow, things that didn’t quite add up, stories left unfinished in the aftermath of war. No one asked what those rumors were.

It had taken longer than he expected to slip past the magical defenses encasing the borders of the Kingdom of Scythia. Not human-made, not even new. These were old wards—woven with purpose, with age, with a kind of knowing only Fae magic possessed. The kind meant to keep eyes like his away. And it almost did. But Azriel was patient. Shadows knew how to wait. And so did he.

For a time, he only observed. Let his shadows weave through the marketplace, the temples, the gardens and palaces, listening as if the air itself might confess something. There were Fae here, that much was clear—some from every court, mingling with humans as if no war had ever passed between them. Comfortable. Settled. As though the divisions that had carved their world in two had never mattered here. Yet no one spoke of you directly. Not by name.

There were whispers, though. Talks of their Lady among Vassa’s inner circle—one not bound by title or bloodline. A woman whose voice could silence a room, who walked through fire and shadow without blinking. Azriel almost left then. The information was valuable, more than enough to return with. Something Rhys needed to know. And he had almost turned away, until he felt it.

It wasn’t a word. Not a voice in his mind. It was... a sensation. Younger. Curious. Like being watched by a presence—one that felt oddly familiar, like catching a note of a song you hadn’t heard a full tune for. The echo of Rhysand’s magic—but it wasn’t him. It was something else. Someone else. And then—just like that—it was gone. Cut off.

Still, he waited. Another three days. And on the third, the court began to shift. New enchantments. New wards. The Dawn Court was coming. The castle readied itself for guests, and the magic in the walls responded accordingly. And then—his shadows stirred.

Familiar magic moved through the air, brushing against him like a sigh through silk. Recognition struck so fast he didn’t have time to think, only feel. His shadows peeled away from him, darting into the darkness like hounds catching a scent, and he didn’t stop them.

He moved through the palace like smoke, silent and unseen, his footsteps swallowed by stone and darkness. He didn’t question where he was going. His shadows had found something. 

Barefoot in the garden. Face tilted to the stars as if they were telling a story. The world so still besides the shadows that flickered across your shoulders. 

And Azriel… he couldn’t breathe.

Couldn’t think.

The crushing weight in his chest returned with a vengeance—as if he was being told for the first time all over again that you were gone. Only now, that grief was warping, twisting—turning into something too vast to name.

You were here.

He stepped forward, his voice catching somewhere between disbelief and inevitability, the words slipping out of him like they had waited for permission.

“You’re alive.”

Then he dropped. One knee to the earth, as if his body remembered how to honor you before his mind could catch up. It wasn’t planned—it was instinct. Respect. Reverence. The kind of devotion that couldn’t be shaken by time or distance or death. His gaze fixed on the ground, refusing to lift, because if he looked up… if he looked at you and you weren’t really there, if this was some cruel trick—he wasn’t sure he’d recover.

The garden was quiet, save for the whisper of leaves.

Then, gently, the grass shifted in front of him. A whisper of fabric stirred in the breeze, and he caught sight of the hem of a dark nightdress. Then, a hand. Gentle. Warm. Fingers curling over his shoulder with a tenderness that shattered something deep in his chest.

Your voice broke softly across the silence.

“…Hello, Azriel.”

It cracked at the edges, like it wasn’t used to forming his name. Like it hurt to say it. 

“It’s been too long.”

And then—just like that—you were crying.

He heard it in the tremble of your breath, felt it in the way your hand trembled against him. His own eyes burned, the tears rising before he could stop them. He looked up—finally, truly looked—and saw you. Not a dream. Not a shadow. Not a ghost.

You.

And he wasn’t sure if it was you who moved first or him. Only that, suddenly, he was in your arms, or you were in his, and none of it mattered. There was no hesitation, no decorum, no court or duty. Just the crushing, desperate ache of reunion.

You clung to each other beneath the garden’s starlit hush, your breaths unsteady, your bodies shaking—not from fear or cold, but from the sheer force of emotion neither of you could name. It wasn’t grace. It wasn’t beauty. It was raw, the kind of reunion that cracked open the places you thought had long since scarred over.

And for the first time in what felt like a lifetime, Azriel’s wings dropped.

They sagged behind him, the powerful muscles trembling too hard to hold them aloft. His wings touched the ground—an unforgivable gesture for any Illyrian, a sign of exhaustion, defeat, or despair. But right now, he didn’t care. 

But then—your hands were on his chest, gently but urgently pushing back. Not far, just enough to look at him. And he saw it then—the fear that had been buried beneath the tears, beneath the relief.

“You can’t tell.”

The words spilled past your lips in a whisper—rushed, desperate. Your eyes searched his face like they already knew the battle that might follow.

“You can’t tell anyone,” you breathed, voice cracking. “I know what I’m asking, I know I have no right anymore, I’m not your Lady—”

He stiffened, his hands still loosely on your arms, his shadows curling tight behind him.

You were wrong. So deeply, devastatingly wrong.

You were still his Lady.

You were still theirs.

He opened his mouth to tell you just that. To remind you who you were. Who you still were, even now—

“Mama?”

A small, sleepy voice carried into the stillness.

Azriel froze.

He turned, slowly, as if moving too fast would make the sound vanish.

And there—emerging from the shadows of a pillar, rubbing her eyes with tiny fists—was a little girl.

And for a moment, for a heartbeat that seemed to shatter everything he thought he understood, he thought he was looking at a baby version of Estelle.

But no—no, not quite. The features were younger. Softer. But so unmistakably familiar it felt like being knocked breathless.

Rhysand.

It was Rhysand’s face—his High Lord’s face, down to the curve of the cheekbones, the deep violet eyes blinking up at him with sleep-heavy curiosity.

She smiled at him—gentle, like he was something soft and safe.

“Friend? Family?”

And Azriel understood.

Understood everything.

[rafayels-littlepearl]

So I don't know what I'm aiming with this post, and I'm saying this at the start that I know Rafayel would never hurt us.

But these lines are in the game. He is a siren. He planned his way through her life, imagine choosing to become a professor in someone's university just so that you can be close to them, observe them from afar. Is this stalking? I don't know. (And I dont care if it is, i love him)

Does MC know about it? Does MC know about he's scheming with people behind Ever? Does MC know he hires spies? Maybe even he is a spy? Does MC know, yet, that he killed people with his songs in this timeline? She doesn't even know he indeed killed someone with a painting because look at Rafayel! Oh he is so shy, babygirl, needy, clingy, funny; he can't even lift a paintbrush with a hand that a cat licked.

We are so fooled by these constant events and cute lovely stories that we forget his bonds and the main story.

It's his subtle smirks. It's the way he tilts his head to the side sometimes, looking at us. Or sometimes it's the way he doesn't show a single emotion at all.

This man knows his potential, he is aware of it to his very being.

He is luring anyone and anything into his trap with his beauty, art. MC noted several times that how he could easily act in front of people in crowds. And he gets what he wants everytime.

So forgive me for saying that, and I know Rafayel at the moment wouldn't do such thing because he accepted love, but the reason he approached her wasn't solely because "she kept making him wait on a shore every year." No he was trapped. Literally.

He WAS in for REVENGE.

Or is he STILL? As this ⬇️ is from his affinity 175.

We dont know what happened when they first met in this timeline, we only know how Rafayel implied and how he wants us to know.

He's not going to take our heart, he's not gonna leave us. But I suspect him being trapped in the past was because of us and a part of him blamed us for that. While having the bond. In Ebb and Flow he was testing her when he said "I can't even run away... do whataver you want to do to me." with those heavenly beautiful, pleading eyes. Even he was supposed to be weak, he still had the control over the situation.

Idk where I'm going with this post tbh, I dont even have theories for future. But I would've died to watch his transition from revenge to love in the main story too. In his mind, we belong to each other but in a literal sense. He has MC, and MC is his only. We have his heart, in every way. His love passes beyond lives and timelines, countries and civilizations.

I can only guess the future updates wont just bring fluff and cuteness to us. This Rafayel hasn't gone anywhere. It's still there and I have to say I LOVE HIM THIS WAY! It is literally why I fell for him. He is my siren after all, and I would gladly fall for his trap(i already did).

[medlilove]

(Edited to add headshots because tumblr hates detail) I've etched away at this is a lovely few weeks, so click for full res and all the little details, okay? It's my love letter to the journey I've found myself on

This is long-ish, so its under the cut (but worth reading...)

I had been thinking a lot recently about that double feature episode, you know the one? I half remembered it then, when they chased a bunch of alien spies so fast through the solar system they all got thrown back in time. Half the crew went on a little undercover adventure in Toronto in 2024. It was great because they got completely cut off from the Enterprise, so half of them, well mostly Uhura and Spock if I recall correctly, spent their time collecting as many radios as possible and worked on building their own communications. Uhura and Spock were basically taking turns constantly tweaking radios by the window with wires everywhere. Oh yeah, their base of operations was the whole top floor of a worn out old building looking over a big square. They ended up in the really arty/queer part of town full of art galleries and thrift stores.....??

Chapel and Chekov were sent out to those shops to find disguises for everyone. I loved the joke that Chekov was puzzled and slightly alarmed that Christine just knew everyone's clothes sizes and measurements with no explanation. Later on, they ended up getting separated from the rest of the group and getting held up by B story shenanigans, mostly getting lost and running into culture shocks. It was fun to see them having their own adventures and made for a pretty interesting combo. Spock and Uhura spent most of their time with the tech, accidentally listening to the times most popular music while changing frequencies. Jim and Sulu paired off to search for clues, and getting supplies and spent a lot of time talking to the locals setting up for a Pride parade. McCoy, feeling paranoid and irritable that he had practically no equipment, wandered around with Dr Alfred Nahdi, the Botanist, who kept picking random weeds and talking about how extraordinary the little dandelions were. Oh and together they stole a whole medical bag out of an ambulance?? It was pretty funny.  Anyway, the main issue was they couldn’t risk leaving the area because all these alien spies had assimilated into the population and they had to track them all down and bring them back with them so as not to disrupt the timeline or something. They had to track down the aliens while making sure the aliens didn't pick up on who they were or that they were also out of place. They ended up being there for around two whole ass months, I think. The spies were spread out all over and there were about 30 of them, but it ended up being the Botanist, Alfred (Alfie) Nahdi who found the enemy base of operations by complete accident. Alfred, who had spent most of the time studying all the common flowers and weeds that were so ordinary at that time but were extinct in their time, figured out where the aliens' base of operations was because the big plant shop at the end of the square had a few succulents that could not have existed in 2024. It was a big "woah" moment. And there was this whole thing where he had to act like he hadn’t just figured it out because the florist, who was almost certainly a spy, was watching him and McCoy. But soon after, it all went to hell anyway when a fight broke out and Sulu was straight up shot with the aliens' weapon that had bullets made from alien metal. So then Bones had to perform old school surgery on him in their HQ, with only 2024 equipment. Jim, Spock, and Uhura were out fighting and ran into Chapel and Chekov and were able to finish them off, but it got really crazy because there was a Pride parade in the square at the same time so they had to make sure no one noticed them. While Bones was pulling bullets out of Sulu, with the botanist assisting him until Chapel (who had been sent by Jim) appeared and took over. McCoy said something like, “Christine, I’ve never been so glad to see you in my life,” and they sewed him up all old school. And it worked out! But Bones was a mess because he had to do messy surgery with none of his kit, and so much pressure, and more blood than he was used to... Chapel stayed with Sulu, and Bones and Nahdi went to sit on the fire escape stairwell and had a sweet scene of Bones just full of adrenaline, his hands couldn't stop shaking. They sat hand in hand for a while listening to all the people on the streets below. Then Spock, Jim, Uhura, and Chekov appeared at the stairwell and they all had a happy, albeit exhausted reunion. After a day of everyone recovering from all the excitement, Uhura and Spock used some extra tech they got from the aliens and finally made contact with poor Scotty who was up on the Enterprise losing the will to live. Anyway, their outfits were iconic tbh.

I invented this whole thing to draw Dr. Leonard “Bones” McCoy in a sweater. I lost control of the situation. I spent a lovely two weeks etching away at this with the support of my lovely ST server, I love you guys. This ones for you.

[miwiromantics]

the way mike reacts to both will and el being spies is so funny to me because what do you mean his best friend is possessed by a literal demon from another dimension and is luring said demon and all its entities to the place they live in and has literally caused the death of more than 50 + people (including his mother's boyfriend) but Mike has the most sweetest voice on, comforting him and telling him that it will all be fine, recalling the first time they met and telling him he was the best thing to ever happen to him. but they aren't in love.

while there's El who is literally 'spying' on them for fun with no harm intended and Mike goes fucking off at Max and her. He tells her he feels betrayed and breaks 'party law' or whatever. And goes on a whole tangent about how Max is brainwashing her and that she is a bad influence. and they are supposed to be in love??!!

what does that even mean

[princessisfinethx]

Baby Fever

This post is inspired by all the babies running around my family right now. And also a comment I had gotten a while back about König being good with children. I don't know if I should tag them or not, would that be rude?

Warnings: Pure fluff, babies, Soft!König, baby fever König. Toddlers being toddlers. Established relationship.

König knew for certain he did not get baby fever easily. When he saw babies or kids, he would shrug and make a comment about how small they were or something. You were almost the same way, not wanting kids right now but couldn't help but adore the tiny babies and toddlers. You were dating for a while and agreed that kids were not an option right now. So, when you were asked to babysit for your brother and his wife, you asked König to come along to help you.

~~~

You warned König that your brother had two boys and one girl. The boys were 6 (twins) the girl was 1. König made a comment about weird age difference, and you replied, "They get baby fever a lot more often than you know. And they want a big family." He nodded and you added. "She's pregnant again too." Which made König's eyes widen.

When you both arrived there, the boys ran to you excitedly, screaming about their auntie being back. But they quieted when they saw König. The large male stares down at the twin boys, waiting to see what they'll do. The first boy walks up and crosses his arms. "Why are you so big?"

König crossed his arms as well. "Why are you so tiny?"

The second boy laughs. "You sound like a evil bad guy!" The boys take off running and you chuckle at them. You now had a small girl on your hip. She hid her face from König and you smiled, rubbing her back.

"She's a little shy, but her mom said she's due for a nap." You walked him inside just as your brother and a pregnant wife walked out, yelling to call them if you had any trouble. König followed you inside while taking in the interior of the house. You were rocking the girl, humming for her to sleep. "Do you think you can watch the boys while I try putting her down to bed?"

He nodded. König made sure that you couldn't see his nervousness at the thought of watching two boys. You left to go put the young girl to sleep and on que, the twins came running out with play swords. One boy raised his sword at König. "Prepare evil villain! For we will slay you!"

König put his hands up and glared. "Attacking me while I am unarmed? How unfair!" The boys giggled at his accent, and maybe perhaps König was making his accent heavier on purpose, but he wouldn't admit that aloud.

When the small girl, Ember, was asleep, you walked out to the living room to find it empty and the front door open. When you inspect that as well, you find König outside with the boys, Dexter and Derrel. König was kneeling in front of one of them and smearing mud over his cheeks, the other twin boy already being marked by what you assumed was pretend war paint.

You crossed your arms as you watched König stand, some war paint of his own painted messily across his face. He was talking to them but you couldn't hear them.

~

"Why do you sound so funny?" One of the boys with the missing bottom and top teeth asked him. The other boy was only missing a few of his top teeth.

"I am from Austria." König finished his face paint and nodded to himself.

The twin boys looked at each other and then asked separate questions.

"Did you meet Steve Irwin? He catches animals."

"Have you ever wrestled a kangaroo?"

"Do you have to kill spiders as big as your face?!"

"Is it true that you can eat kangaroo like chicken?"

König had frowned, knowing they would misunderstand the moment he said it. "No, boys, that is Australia. Austria is further away." He stands. "Now we can play evil bad guy that gets stopped by cool good guys." The boys were giggling excitedly, and he held his hand up. "But wait, first, I must do something bad." He spied you coming down the steps and nodded. He walks over to you and picks you up, throwing you over his shoulder. "I have stolen your precious auntie, and she will be my prisoner!"

The boys screamed in a panic and rushed him, while you laughed and playfully screamed for help.

~~

A while later, while König and the boys played outside, you got a notification that the baby was awake. "I'll be right back, boys." You stand and walk to the house. When you left, the boy missing both his top/bottom teeth(Dexter) had looked at König.

"Are you going to marry our auntie?"

König thought about this and then answered. "I want to, but your auntie has to like me first. If she doesn't want to marry me, then I won't make her."

"Want me to ask her if she likes you?" He wiped his nose without a care in the world and König grinned.

"No, I am a big boy. I'll find out myself."

The other boy, Derrel, ran up to them while swinging his foam sword. "There's a girl in my class who kissed my friend Barry and it was gross!" He giggled. "Aren't you afraid girls have cooties?"

König chuckled. "I was told that girls and boys have cooties. Did you know cooties come from dirty kids who don't brush their teeth or wash their feet?" He watched the boys make faces, obviously not believing his statement.

You walked out the house with Ember on your hip, smiling down at her while speaking softly. When the boys saw them, Dexter walked up to you. "Emmy doesn't play right when we play games."

"Well, she's a baby, you know." You squat down and set the infant on a blanket laid out in the grass. "She doesn't know how to do much right now. You have to give her time to learn."

Derrel spoke next. "She sleeps a lot too."

König spoke up next. "Babies sleep a lot. When she was growing in your mommy's tummy, all she did was sleep. She was used to it, but now that she is out of your mommy's tummy, she has to get used to being awake. That's why she naps more than you two."

"Poor Emmy." One of them huffed, sitting beside the baby girl and giving her the foam sword which she took happily. "Ah! She has a weapon!"

"No! What have you done! She's unstoppable now!" König gasped dramatically and picked up the other sword. "I will defeat her!"

"No! That's my sister!" Dexter ran at König and jumped on his back. Following was Derrel, and König fell to the ground with a fake grunt of pain. You then picked up the baby girl and helped her walk over to the fallen König, where she screamed in some kind of excited baby scream. The twin boys yelled in victory while sitting atop the large fallen man. Ember held herself up on König's shoulder and he watched defeatedly as a line of drool fell on his face.

"Yack... I've been defeated."

~~~

After König won everyone over with his famous chocolate chip pancakes, everyone was settled down on the couch to watch Scooby-Doo. The boys have taken to sitting in König's arms and Ember played in her baby pin. When König said he never watched Scooby-Doo, the twins were excited to show and tell him all about the mystery-solving dog and the gang. And König was more than happy to listen to all of it. It was about an hour into the movie, and both boys had fallen asleep. König continued watching the movie. You took Ember in your arms and sat down beside them. "They really like you."

He perked up at this, looking over at you and grinning nervously at you and the baby. "You think so? I was nervous I would hurt them accidentally, or they would be scared of me." He watched as Ember reached for him and the Austrian man carefully moved his arm away from one of the boys to hold the small girl in his arms.

You had chuckled softly and laid your head back. "You're doing great with them. But I think those pancakes sealed the deal." You watched as the baby girl curiously poked and pulled at König's chin and lip. He poked his bottom lip out, then stuck his tongue at her. She watched in curiosity before doing the same thing, her hands slapping his face in excitement. You both laughed.

One of the boys woke up and moved over to you, laying his head in your lap and saying it was cold. You pull a blanket over him and gently ran your fingers through his messy hair. After he had fallen back asleep, you look up at König but find him entertaining the baby with his facial expressions.

~~~~

After you and König left, with sad goodbyes from the twins, you noticed how quiet your driver was. Looking up at him, you linked your hand in his free one, causing him to look over at you and interlock his fingers with yours. "What's on your mind?"

A lot. You, him, a family somewhere in the future, you with a wedding band on your left hand and a big belly carrying his child. He was staring forward at the road, and he sighed, a look of annoyance washed over his features. Should he tell you how he felt? What if you detest the idea of having kids with himm "The twins were so rowdy and annoying. Do all kids act that way?"

"Yes. Most of the time."

"And the baby girl, do all babies drool as much as her? It got on my face and my shirt."

"Yes." You watched him carefully, trying to figure out where he was going with this.

"Kids are filthy creatures. And clumsy. And a handful..." he brought the back of your hand up to his lips, holding your hand there for a moment. "And they cry for nothing."

"That's usually a toddler phase." You tilt your head. "König what's wrong?"

"Nothing is wrong Liebling..." He sighed almost defeatedly. "But I can't help but picture us with our own crazy little children... and I want that very much." He looked at you after stopping at a stoplight. "I know we are not ready for kids yet, and we are not married. But I saw the way you look at them, and how big you smile at them and I can't help but want that too, with our own babies." His eyebrows furrowed in thought while he pressed another kiss to your knuckles. "But, maybe that's wrong to dream only after a day of caring for children."

You sit up in your seat and move your hand to cup his face. "It's not wrong to dream König...it's called baby fever." You smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his nose.

"You would make the most perfect mommy," He says in a desperately soft voice as you press your lips to his nose. He cups your face so you look into his eyes. "I would be honored to be the father. The best father. Say the word Mein Liebling, and I will give you as many children as you desire."

:')

Don't come after me I just- I dunno.

[ramblinscramblin]

I know you only have one post rn but hsgagshagaghssgahsh I love how you write😭

Anyways, giving you a request since I'm already here :)

Reader who really likes Scout's whole clumsy way of flirting. He's like "I got a bucket of chicken" and the reader is just "😍😍😍😍". Or he stumbles over his words when flirting and thinks he's made a fool of himself, meanwhile the reader is basically swooning right next to him.

Bonus points if Spy is observing this all and is just like:

→Reader who enjoys Scouts awkward flirting!

Genre: Fluff!

Characters: Scout tehe

THANK U FOR THIS. This is incredibly real, he is so so so silly.

Scout

Scout took immediate interest in you.

He couldn’t place exactly what it was about you that just made you instantly attractive.

But it was because of his immediate interest that made him such a colossal disaster in front of you.

He just cannot stop, making a fool out of himself. Going to great and insane lengths to try and impress you, literally getting blown up on the battlefield to try and show you a cool jump he can do.

You find is so so endearing and funny, you always laugh at his silly attempts at impressing you.

He mistakes this as genuine malicious intent, thinks you’re making fun of him and feels like the world’s biggest idiot.

“Hey Scout,” you greet one day, feeling a little bold.

Scout straightens in an instant, now was his chance to put the moves on you, make or break time scout.

“Oh! H-hey. Yeah, wassup,” he says before sniffling “you wanna see my baseball cards?” He says abruptly, already mentally berating himself.

You chuckle a little, and he deflates feeling like human garbage. You bump his shoulder with your arm “sure. That sounds fun,” you say with a smile.

He immediately perks up, shows you his nerdy card collection for way too long. Worries the whole time that you think it’s dumb, really cannot tell if you’re making fun of him.

Spy really does not help his anxiety, makes fun of his attempts extremely outwardly, really confused on why you keep coming around…

After watching a few more of your interactions he is appalled to find out that you actually like him back.

Does not let Scout in on this realization.

Him watching you full send the most intense signals to Scout that you’re interested and it’s just soaring over his head causes him physical pain.

“Hey Scout, I was wondering if you wanted to show me your baseball card collection again?” You asked one day, Spy secretly watching from a nearby corner.

“You wanna see it again? I haven’t got anymore,” he says.

You shrug “oh? That’s a shame, I was looking forward to having you all to myself today,” you simper leaning into him.

He’s already told himself that you’re so not interested (plus he’s got a complex from how hard he was rejected from Pauling) so he hardly even flinches “oh well. Next time ‘den I’ll have sumthin’ new to show.”

Spy face palms, mumbling about how dumb he is as he sneaks away.

You find it really endearing though, total heart eyes over this dumbass.

Eventually when you finally stop torturing him and tell him how you feel he’s so flustered and surprised, like: you actually liked how much of an idiot I was? Cannot believe it.

Rubs it in Spies face so hard.

“Look at this hottie I bagged by bein’ a total dumbass. Hah! I win!” He proclaimed loudly.

No because I’m tweaking I love him so much. Anyways thank u so much for the request I took some creative liberties but obviously I had a lot of fun with this one haha!

[kingqueensoobscene]

General headcanons for Blu!Scout x reader

Hello everyone!! I hope you had a happy new year!! I want to start a new series where I make headcanons for characters I haven’t written for yet to show you my interpretations of them. This is the first, please enjoy!

-I like to believe that unlike the Red Scout, he is much more experienced or gifted at killing. In the “Meet the Spy” video, which I know is Spy disguised as Scout, but Heavy bought it and he’s canonically a smart cookie, he says he has killed plenty of spies as if it was just like driving a car. And he is very cocky about it. When he has to clear a room, he doesn’t speak. His mind is focused for once; gauging the situation. You get whiplash from how quickly he can go from hyper focused to the annoying prick you know and love.

-He has saved your hide plenty of times. You’ve saved his too. Having had a couple of enemy knives to your throat only for their heads to get blown off by Scout with his Babyface. 

“You alright, gorgeous?”  He would ask.

“Yeah,” he extended his hand down to you, “Thanks.” 

“On your feet, babe! Let’s go!” 

-He looks physically different from Scout in subtle ways. Their uniform is the same and they both wear dog tags, but Blu Scout has dirty blonde hair and green eyes. Blu started the hand wraps thing, which the Red Scout would copy because he thought it looked cool, because he would get his knuckles scraped as he has a habit of breaking his fall with his fist when sped across the field. The same long face as the Red Scout, just with bushier eyebrows. He also has freckles (I totally stole that from Lil Pootis). He also has a resting passive aggressive face, he looks unamused.

-He is diagnosed with OCD and experiences intrusive thoughts. It’s funny because he is good at staying calm in situations, but will think about them later on. But he likes to keep his worries to himself. He worries that something really bad will happen to you or himself one day; such as the respawn machine stops working and he won’t see you or Ma ever again. You have had to help him through a panic attack a few times, but he hates when you find him like that. He tries to get you out the door and lock himself in. He smokes to help his anxiety, but obviously, it makes his heart beat faster, making him worse and only helping temporarily. He will try and hide it from you, but you can taste it on his breath when you kiss. 

-He does not leave you without a kiss on the cheek or the lips. He’s more than fine with PDA too and he always holds your hand or if someone else needs you to get out of the way and he notices, he gently moves you by the waist. He gets cocky about it to the other mercenaries. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know you guys are jealous. I got the finest thing I’ve ever laid my eyes on and they chose me! Suck it!” 

Literally no one is paying attention.

-He takes note of everyone he has to work with. Though he can read and spell better than Red, he’s not great at writing and can’t get all of his ideas organized, so he draws what he notices about the others. For example, Spy keeps a picture of a young boy in his disguise kit and so, Scout drew Spy looking at the picture in the open kit in his left hand while the right dragged a smoke. They are amazing sketches that he never finishes. He only colors in hair or darker materials. He has so many sketches of you that he keeps in his desk drawer. If you compiled the amount of drawings he had of you, it would qualify as an anatomical study. 

-Wakes up super early. Can never sleep either due to his anxiety or his add. He will wake you up early whenever he does. Not usually when he is having an anxiety spell, he doesn’t like dragging you into that despite accidentally waking you up multiple times. He has a smoke, then makes you coffee, however you like, he will remember, wakes you up and makes sure you don’t fall back asleep. He will just keep pestering you until you stubbornly stay awake. He’s annoying and he knows it. If you don’t feel like talking, which is understandable since you’re up at 3:30, he will chat about the team or his life back in Boston.

-He has a thing for sweet treats. He always likes to take you out to the bakery just outside of the base and get you two a milkshake and some cake slices. The first time you two went, it was about 2 months into your relationship. You have not gone out of the Builder’s League since you got there, so Scout took you! It was a small little dinner that was rimmed with cherry red and a neon blue “OPEN” sign. He held the door for you.

“M’baby.” 

You seated yourself and grabbed the menus from the end of the table. You looked at all of the options, mostly the pastries. 

“I’m gonna get a malt. Ya want one, dollface?” 

“Sure, thank you!” You smiled.

The counter was a light pink, lined with a checkered, black-and-white belt wrapped around it. When he came back, he had a slice of pie, your pastry and one milkshake.

“I thought you got me one too?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” he handed you a bendable straw, “here ya go!” 

He put his red striped straw in the whipped cream and took a sip. 

“We’re sharing?” You laughed, flabbergasted.

“Isn’t that what couples do?” 

You chuckled. “You dork.”