#immediately not to be taken seriously in my book because on bad days i sound like that too

[buck-yyyy]

wild that i developed a stutter as a teenager. even wilder that it comes and goes as it pleases. kinda rude that it makes it so hard for me to read things out loud

[genshin-squabbles-and-wobbles]

headcanon of the boys seeing you cry for the first time? Thoma, Kaveh, Kaeya, and Chile

Yes my darling, I shall. Hehehehehe...I might be evil in this one, or I might not. Who knows. :)

Thoma: ◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢◣◥◤◢

You and Thoma were simply doing work together, handling the Kamisato household together. As you helped Thoma with chores, such as cooking and laundry, your mind was elsewhere.

Of course Thoma noticed this, however, he never got the time to check in on you about it, so he is rather weary behind in his head. Right now he was hanging the laundry outside, while you were inside cleaning the windows.

You were a little distracted today because a lot of things has been happening personally to you, you seemed to have had a bad day. A lot of things were getting to you lately.

You forgot things at home, you were late on paying your taxes and bills, you had to end a friendship with someone who was taking advantage of you, you misplaced your wallet so you can’t buy yourself some lunch, or even groceries. You also came in late, for the first time in your servitude career, you were late. However, since it was a first, you were never scolded.

All these things and misfortunes running through your head, all these overwhelming thoughts, and now overthinking misfortune in the future.

Without realizing, you were already crying, as you had a blank face. You didn’t even fell tears streaming down your cheek. All you felt was anxiety of your failures and your deliberate fuck ups. It hurts. It stings.

All of a sudden, you heard a panicked voice within the right side of you, along with a hand on your arm. "Hey Hey hey! What's going on?! Hey! Look at me!"

You felt a warm hand on your cheek, as you felt it guide you towards a brighter and worried face. It was Thoma's face. He had a panicked expression as he was hurriedly wiping your tears. "What's wrong?"

You heard Thoma whispered to you, as he wrapped his arms around you and rocked you slowly, side to side. "Talk to me, please. I can’t stand to see you like this..."

Kaveh: ─•~❉᯽❉~•──◥◤──•~❉᯽❉~•──◥◤──•~❉᯽❉~•─

You were helping Kaveh with his architect clients. As you were helping him with suggestions. You were holding a book, showing the functionality of buildings and giving ideas to Kaveh.

However, lately, Kaveh as been having a rough time with his works as he was going through an clog. Nothing was coming to him, however, how come you were having ideas, and good ones too? He was the architect, and was the top on in the Akademiya at that.

So, why do you have such good ideas, better than his? Kaveh was getting irritated, of course it's not your fault, it is his own insecurities after all.

Kaveh continued to include some suggestions, but slowly, he would harshly criticize and reject your other simple small suggestions, such as the shape of the windows, or the tiling of the roofing.

You didn’t take it personally, as you knew he was stressed, you know he never meant anything by it. You love Kaveh, he would never hurt you.

You then tried to cheer him up and made a silly suggestion to hopefully cheer him up. You suggested in a silly voice that you should make the whole building blue, a color the client hated.

"Ugh, that is the most stupidest suggestion I have ever heard, don't you read? The client hates blue, if you are going to waste my time with suggestions like these, then go home."

You were taken aback by his small outburst, as he seemed to take that suggestions quite seriously. However, that retaliation stung, it hurt a lot.

You looked at him and closed the book, as you already had tears streaming down your face. You tried your best to not make your voice sound shaken up but failed. "Fine." You said with your voice cracking.

Kaveh immediately turned around and shocked to see your tears. You were usually such a strong person, but that doesn’t excuse him forgetting that you are a human being with emotions just like him. "W-Wait, my love."

You got up and turned your back to him and left his side of the room. You took your jacket and put it on as it was raining outside in Sumeru Forest.

You felt Kaveh grab your hand and stepped in front of you to stop you. "W-Wait, my love, please, I am so sorry, I didn’t make to take my frustrations out on you."

He would pull you into a hug and give you a tight squeeze. He would apologize lovingly, and whisper praises to your ears of how good your suggestions were.

Later, you were on his lap, as he was taking your coat off of your shoulders, shoes and anything else to make you comfortable. He hugged you to him, as he rubbed your back.

You both decided, to drop work for the day, and get dinner together, his treat of course. He gained enough mora from his recent projects thanks to your suggestions so rightfully so, it deserved to be spent on you.

Kaeya ╔═══▣◎▣════╗╔════▣◎▣════╗╔════▣◎▣═══╗

Kaeya is known to often tease you, he just love seeing you blush and pout at him. He likes seeing you get stumbled with his teasing.

He would often tease you just about everything, how cute you are packing up your things, how you can be so clumsy, how you can make a mess while eating. He teases how you take the sheets at night when you guys sleep together.

You honestly didn’t mind it, of course, you had your moments where you teased him back, sometimes it backfired, and sometimes you succeeded. But it was all fun and games. It was all a playful banter.

You were coming back from a quest, as you just cashed in your rewards by Katherine. You were bruised and tired. You just wanted to go home and rest.

Your knees hurt, and your feet hurt more. Maybe a nice hug from Kaeya. You really need some comfort and maybe a space to feel safe enough to unwind from.

You smiled, as you caught up with Kaeya who was waiting for you by the small eating area in Mondstadt and joined him. You told him about your adventures and difficulties and he sat there and listened. "My My, you have had quite the time with those hilichurls huh?" He chuckled.

You smiled, but didn’t give your usual playful reactions, as you were tired to fully react or process his teasings.

Once you stood up, you walked with him, leaving the area, all of a sudden you tripped and fell. You face planted on the ground. You were very embarrassed.

You heard Kaeya chuckling behind you and did his usual tease for when you trip and fall, but this time you were too overwhelmed to take his teasings jokingly.

You began to cry as you were tired and overwhelmed.

Kaeya would immediately stop and looked shocked, as he immediately runs to your side and helped you up. You were crying as you were tired and didn’t want to deal with his teasing. You just wanted to be loved and comforted. Was that so much to ask?

Kaeya had a guilty look on his face, as he kissed your tears away. "My snowflake, I am dearly sorry for my insensitive, I shouldn’t have said that after a hard day..." He cupped your cheek and kissed your cheeks. "Here..let me make up for it, I'll take you home and we can do all your favorite things."

Childe ▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢▢

Childe is very affectionate and loving to you as per usual, he always takes care of you, and overall, he wants to have a big family with you.

Despite Childe having some issues you guys have found ways to manage in and be in a healthy relationship with routine. ( I know, shocking. )

However, of course he does have his urges to fight and get physical with anyone who he sees as strong and powerful.

However, beyond that, Childe comes home and will always welcome you with open arms, loving kisses, and happy affectionate whispers to your neck.

Childe is very dedicated to you as he is happy to prioritize you over anything, no matter how difficult it is for him to do so.

You were having a rough few months, as you kept it to yourself. Of course you didn’t want to worry your beloved, so you kept it a secret. You wanted him to live his happy fairy tail life with you. You wanted him to be happy, afterall, he deserves it.

However, one day, Childe came home early. You usually cry or try and ease your anxieties when he is out, so you can put on your best self when he is home.

You didn’t realize he came home early, as you were in the bedroom, sobbing quietly.

Childe is used to seeing you happy, and bright, but you crying. This was a whole other side to you that he hasn’t witness before.

You felt arms wrapped around you from behind, as you were now sitting in between his legs, on the edge of the bed. "What's the matter?" He said in a soft and gentle voice.

He took his sleeve and wiped your eyes gently.

You shook your head, not wanting to tell him. You didn’t want him to see your face, as you tried and hide it.

All of a sudden, you felt him move, as you felt him suddenly pinned you down against the bed. You looked at him surprised.

"Don't hide such a face from me. I am your lover, I should know all of you. Why are you hiding your troubles from me? You can talk to me, you know that right?"

Childe was above you, hand on your cheek, stroking your face. His knee was in between your legs, as he leaned down and kissed your forehead. "Look at me. Tell me what's going on." He took your chin to make you look at him and focus on him.

You sniffed as you slowly but surely, spilled out your months of troubles to him.

[atticssmellgood]

could u please write spencer reid with male reader who hasn’t had a great childhood so he never experienced bubbles, coloring books or parks since his parents just never cared :( so he’s more childish than a normal adult but spencer js loves him and gives him all the color books and blows all the bubbles possible for him 😭

The Childish Kind of Love

Spencer Reid x Male!reader(he/him pronouns)

Summary: reader opens up about his childhood and Spencer does his best to fix what was broken

CW: mentions of childhood neglect, self conscious reader, a little angst, minor cursing

A/N: This is me coming out of my very random and long hiatus. I just kind of lost my motivation there for a little bit BUT IM BACK!! This is such a cute idea and I had so much fun writing this❤️

—————————

“God Y/N you’re such a child.”

The laughter at the table stops abruptly, three out of the four of you taken aback from the sudden quip. You look to your other friend sitting across from you at the table, a genuinely confused expression on your face.

“Excuse me?”

Her eyes drill into your own and her voice is dripping with venom as she repeats herself.

“I said, you’re such a child Y/N.”

You don’t really know what to say to that, considering how abrupt the comment was and the fact that it came from none other than one of your closest friends. She had been a little quiet during the whole meet-up but you had just chalked it up to a late night out or a sour day. You certainly hadn’t been expecting this. She took your silence as an invitation to continue.

“I mean, I personally don’t even want to be around you anymore. All you ever want to do is talk about things like comic books and cartoons when the rest of us grew out of that shit by age seven.” She scoffed

You can feel your heart start to sink. You push yourself further into the booth seat, looking anywhere but at your friends.

“I…. I’m sorry I didn’t know I was annoying you guys with that stuff.” You press your lips into a thin line and swallow the growing lump in your throat.

She continued, ignoring the quiet apology.

“I mean seriously, you make dumb, unfunny jokes that we only laugh at because we don’t want you to feel bad about your childish sense of humor. When we hang out, it feels more like a babysitting job without the pay.”

You gain the courage to look at the other two of the group for some sort of sign that any of this was a lie. You were hoping it was all some sick joke and you guys could just go back to laughing and drinking coffee together like you usually would.

One of them just avoids eye contact, guilt written all over his face as he plays with his hands. The other looks like she’s trying not to laugh.

You can feel your heart breaking into little pieces at that moment. You clench your jaw in an effort to keep the tears in your eyes as you stood up. You internally thank yourself for deciding to sit on the outside of the booth, because at least now you can make a quick getaway.

“Well then,” you pull out your wallet and take out a couple of bills to pay for the coffee, slapping them on the cool metal table.

“Consider this your paycheck.”

Before they could say anything more, you promptly turn on your heal and make your way towards the exit.

——————

By the time Spencer got home, it was already dark outside and you had been crying for god knows how long.

The door opened with a slight squeak as light from the hallway illuminated the small apartment.

“Y/N?”

You could hear the floorboards creak when he stepped into the space, following the sound of the front door shutting with a click.

You stood up from your half-sitting-half-laying down position on the couch and immediately ran over to wrap your arms around his waist. After what happened this morning, all you wanted to do was hear his voice and feel his body heat.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, putting one hand under your shirt to rub soothing motions up and down your back. You could feel the tears coming back as you replayed what your friend said in your mind over and over.

“You’re such a child”

“The rest of us grew out of that shit by age seven”

“Spencer?” Your voice is slightly muffled by his shoulder when you speak, but he hears you.

“Hm?” He hums quietly.

“Do you think I’m too childish?”

He pulls back slightly to look at your face, his expression puzzled.

“No, why on earth would you ever think that?”

You avoid his eyes when you speak again. “It’s just-“ you stop and take a deep breath, realizing that this is something you want to tell him. It might do you some good to get it off your chest after all these years.

You pull away from Spencer and take his hand, leading him away from the front door and towards the couch. The two of you sit down on the small sofa, and you take another deep breath in preparation for this conversation.

“Earlier today I went out with my closer friends, and found out that hanging out with me is comparable to ‘babysitting without the pay’” you add air quotes to the last bit and let out a dry laugh.

Spencer stayed quiet, waiting for you to continue.

You sighed and looked down at your hands, trying to figure out the right words to say.

“When I was a kid, my parents weren’t exactly…attentive to my needs.” You started, swallowing the oncoming tears “I was the result of an unplanned pregnancy so they never cared that much about me.”

“When they weren’t out getting drunk or high, they were acting like I didn’t even exist. They couldn’t even bother to pick me up from school or feed me, so you could imagine their reactions when I would ask them to go somewhere fun or to buy me a simple coloring book.”

Tears were now flowing freely down your face, dripping onto your hands as you tried to steady your breathing. It seemed stupid that you were crying over such a simple thing.

Spencer pulled you closer to him on the couch, making you lift your head up to look at him. His expression was a soft one. It wasn’t a look of pity, it was a look of understanding.

He gently wiped your face with the sleeve of his cardigan before speaking.

“Give me a list.”

“What?”

“Give me a list of things you didn’t get to do as a kid, and we’ll do them.”

He smiled when your eyes went wide with surprise.

“Um, I don’t have a specific list but….I’ve never blown bubbles before.”

“Alright, get your shoes on, we’re going on an adventure.” He gets up from the couch, bringing you with him to the door.

——————

The two of you were now standing in a park, in the middle of the nights, with cheap blowing bubbles in hand.

Opening up the bottle, you were immediately hit with a soapy smell that made your nose burn.

“Are you sure these are safe to use?” You ask, pulling out the tiny wand inside the bottle and staring at it like it was another life form instead of just a piece of plastic

Spencer laughed at your hesitance and opened his bottle as well. “Yes, I’m sure.”

“Sooo, how do you do this, exactly?”

“You just dip the wand into the soap mixture, and blow through it.”

You dip the wand back down into the bottle and bring it to your lips, gently blowing into it.

A stream of bubbles flow from the wand before you can’t blow any more without dipping it back into the container.

You stare in childish wonder as they float down to the ground, popping on the blades of grass

“Magical, right?” Spencer laughs before blowing some of his own bubbles.

You continue to stare at them floating downwards, laughing as you blow some more and attempt to catch one in your hands. You frown when it pops and leaves a sticky residue behind.

“Not very durable, huh?” You say as you wipe your hands on your shirt.

“No, not at all. In fact, the bubbles are made up of three layers; an inner and outer layer made up of soap and a layer of water in between, like a water sandwich. Water evaporating from the bubble film is what makes it pop.” Spencer smiles at you, clearly proud of the built-in encyclopedia of information he has in his brain.

You move towards him and wrap your arms around his waist before pecking his cheeks, then his lips. He squeezes you closer when you try to pull away, drawing out the kiss longer than you intended.

When you finally pull away, he smiles a sweet thing.

“Well, was the bubble-blowing Everything you wanted and more?” He asks as he gently grabs your hands and runs over the ridges of your knuckles with his thumbs

“Yes, I’d say it was.” You beamed.

You both stand in silence for what felt like forever before he brings his hands up to your face, cupping it lightly.

His lips were pressed into a thin line, his brows furrowed as if he was trying to think of something. Then he spoke.

“I love you so much Y/N, childish or not, and screw anyone who willingly misses out on your amazing personality just because they think they’re too grown up for it.”

Tears started to well in your eyes for the third time that night. Except this time, it wasn’t because of pain or sadness or your shitty friends.

“Thank you, Spencer.”

And before he could speak, you pulled him in for a kiss that tasted only of blowing bubbles and happiness.

[burnwater13]

Grogu standing in front of Boba Fett's rancor, on the streets of Mos Espa, on Tatooine. Image from The Book of Boba Fett, Season 1, Episode 7, In the Name of Honor.

Grogu had to say, given everything he’d learned and everything he’d experienced, nothing in his training as a Jedi youngling had prepared him for a career in dentistry. But there he was. Standing in front of an angry rancor and it was absolutely clear to him that no one had taken the dental hygiene of the huge critter seriously. They just hadn’t. 

The rancor’s teeth were stained, chipped, and smelled of whatever or whoever it had consumed in the recent past. Not just that day. Nope. At least six or seven days ago. It had time to ripen into something that smelled like bad spotchka. Grogu was not impressed, but actually fairly sorrowful. This rancor would need to have a lot of work done to make sure those huge sharp teeth were returned to their former glory.  But like he said. He wasn’t a dentist.

After everything had settled down on Tatooine and particularly in Mos Espa, Grogu had brought the issue up to the Daimyo. Officially, Ranky was a possession of the Daimyo’s, so only the Daimyo could authorize an appropriate course of treatment. 

The Daimyo very wisely suggested that they consult with the rancor keeper. If anyone would know why Ranky’s teeth weren’t being given the proper daily care, he would know. Grogu agreed with that assessment and the two of them made their way down to the rancor enclosure while the Majordomo and Fennec continued to run the meeting on mutual aid with the delegates from Mos… Freetown. Grogu was still getting used to the name change. 

When they reached the rancor enclosure the trainer, Machete, came right over to them. 

“How’s he doing?” Daimyo Fett asked after they exchanged greetings.

“Doing? He’s a rancor. He’s doing fine.”

Machete looked confused. Grogu could understand that. The rancor was tearing through a huge chunk of some sort of meat and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. 

“My young friend here is concerned about the creature’s health. In particular the health of its teeth. I don’t need to tell you how critical healthy teeth are to a creature like this one, do I?”

Grogu was interested in how the Daimyo’s voice went from being kind and concerned to down right aggravated from the beginning of that sentence to its end. It was impressive. Grogu was sure it took experience he didn’t have to achieve that in such a small amount of time. 

“Well, my lord, I have been meaning to talk to you about that. Brushing a rancor’s teeth is not quite as easy as say, brushing the teeth of a Krayt dragon. If you choose to do that to a Krayt dragon it’s happy to remove you from the living because you have identified your time to meet your ancestors. No real questions about how or when. Now with a rancor, you must decide which arm you can live with out. Unfortunately that only covers one cleaning and only for as long as it chooses to let you retain that arm.”

Wow, that sounded serious. The Daimyo thought so as well.

“I wouldn’t expect to find many volunteers for that work. Why not use droids or mechs? We have plenty of them scurrying around the place. Surely one or two of them could be trained to perform the necessary work?”

Grogu grinned at his Mandalorian friend. This was exactly why Boba Fett was the Daimyo and not anyone else. He inherently understood problem solving. 

“I have considered that, my lord. I even had some of the small mechs trained to do the work. But Administrator Shand said I was not to waste valuable resources on work that the rancor should be trained to do for itself.”

Ahhh. Grogu immediately understood the caught between a rock and blaster look the trainer wore on his weary, scarred face. If Fennec told you not to do something, you didn’t do it. Easy peasy. 

“Then you have begun to teach the rancor to manage this task for itself?”

The trainer looked at the ground and shuffled his feet and looked more uncomfortable than he did the time he had to the Daimyo that Ranky had escaped his enclosure to take a sand bath. Grogu had helped them both out that day. It had been a good opportunity to test his newest Force skill, ‘attract critter’. That he’ also ended up ‘attracting’ every scorpion, poisonous millipede, biting/flying insect, bird, rodent, lizard, in a 300 meter radius hadn’t been ideal, but you have to learn somehow.

“I have been trying, but I am sorry to say that the rancor likes the flavor of the brushes I’ve been able to fashion for its use. He snatches them up, crunches them down, and then burps. I don’t have access to materials that are more durable.”

“I see.” 

The Daimyo seemed sad. Grogu could understand that. He’d probably realized the only thing a rancor couldn’t just crunch up was beskar and no way was any Mandalorian going to give up their beskar to make a tooth polisher and pick for a rancor. Grogu sighed.

“Well, young one. Do you think the Force could help? You were able to get him to sleep that way. Could you remove all that plaque and tarter?”

And that was how Grogu was forced to seriously consider how to clean a giant critter’s teeth using just the Force and the sweetness of his own personality. It couldn’t be that hard, right? Just a little scraping and mild discomfort and the possibility of being eaten in one tiny bite. Now, he just needed to know if the Daimyo had the proper insurance for the work.

[vonlipvig]

Ranking the Not For Broadcast epilogues from happiest to bleakest, in a completely subjective and possibly contradicting fashion, because Man Some Of These Are Bad In Wildly Different Ways:

(Below the cut, because obviously, spoilers)

The 'Actually Good' Tier:

An Accord: My first epilogue, and to me, the canon ending in my heart. This one truly has it all--the truth has been exposed, democracy has been restored, and of course, the team is back together again. Maybe politically it doesn't sound quite as immediately great as the next one, but it's a step in the right direction, and c'mon, seeing Jeremy and Megan fills me with absolute joy.

A Brighter Future: PM Katie Brightman would have my vote for sure! Universal Basic Income, 4-day workweek, climate change being taken seriously, territorial independence, and more? Yeah, sign me up! Also, it seems to be set in a distant future, since this is Katie's third term as PM, which means it's really been working! Only thing bumping this one down from the top is that Jeremy is dead, so it's a rather bittersweet victory for everyone.

A New Leaf: Hey, Bannon! You're alive! Regardless of whatever ordeal he's been through, it's great to see him back (and finally as an anchor! Took the gang going to jail for it to happen, but oh well lmao). This one is pretty similar to the last one, with Katie being the frontrunner, and we have Julia being put to trial, which is deserved. Pretty alright, as endings go.

The Middle Ground: What is the most neutral ending doing this far up? Well, it gets Worse lmao. But yeah, this one is honestly a bit similar to An Accord, expect that poor Jeremy isn't offered his job back. Still, we've got democracy being respected, the news are showing the Actual News, so in my book it's pretty alright as well!

The 'Hmmm' Tier:

A Renewed Mandate: Here it starts to get a bit...hmm. Julia gets reelected, which...I wouldn't have, personally, but hey, that's democracy for you (unless there's trickery going on which oof imagine). But at least it seems that things are not as terrible as they could be. Sure, it seems Advance is really going for that 'we're all one territory' shtick, but it looks like at least other countries are choosing to join? Idk, still a bit too imperialistic for my tastes, but it does get worse.

Julia's Judgement: You might be asking 'why is this one so low?', right? Bannon is back, democracy is restored, Julia's facing criminal charges, all seems ok. Yeah, NO, that Hamilton-Mann guy is about to be president, and sorry but that seems MISERABLE. I mean, at least people had the right to CHOOSE but uhhhhhhhh, yeah no, have you heard that guy speaking? Scary stuff.

All Fall Down: This one and the next one are the hardest to place in this list for me, because they're...bad, clearly, but how bad is hard to ascertain. This is the one where the country is reduced to just a heavily fortified Territory One, and in one hand, I'm sure they're having a bad time due to the war and all, but hey, at least the other territories are finally taking back their rightful independence. But yeah, not a great time for the citizens of T1 who didn't even ask for any of this.

Inevitable Advancement: This one's funny, not even gonna lie. Sure, everyone is sterile, population numbers are dwindling, everyone is stuck with this terrible government with no possibility of an election...but something about Julia going 'MESSAGE TO ALL CITIZENS: PLEASE FUCK' just sends me into hysterics.

Under New Management: I don't care that there were elections here, this one just sucks ass. The CH1 team just gets fired and replaced, and holy shit, 'how many guns are enough?'? THIS SUCKS GET ME OUT OF THIS TIMELINE. Megan looks so gorgeous tho, mwah.

The 'What the Fuck Oh my God' Tier:

Chaos Reigns: This one's pretty bleak, not even gonna lie. The country is in shambles and nobody is safe, but at least Megan's out there doing her best to keep the people informed (possibly with Jenny helping her out? I can dream). Still, it seems like everyone is fucking miserable, so it lands down here in the terrible tier. I can't tell if it's bleaker than the next ones or not, because they're very different types of bleak (and anyway, the next ones hurt me personally lmao).

A Better Jeremy: LOOK WHAT THEY DID TO MY BOY! I don't care that this one and the next one might seem like happier futures at first (cause we all know how much Megan and the rest can act like everything's fine when it clearly isn't fine at all), THIS ONE IS SO EVIL, Julia's like 'look we brainwashed and tortured this guy until he became a hollow shell of his former self!' and everyone has to be like 'YAY! SOCO!' like HOW FUCKING EVIL AAAAAAAAAA.

Jeremy's Injustice: I DON'T CARE THAT POPULATION NUMBERS ARE RISING AND THAT EVERYONE IS HAPPY AND WHATEVER, THEY JUST MURDERED JEREMY DONALDSON IN COLD BLOOD AND COVERED IT UP LIKE IT WAS AN ACCIDENT OR SOMETHING. THEY'RE MAKING MEGAN HAVE TO SMILE THROUGH THIS WHEN THEY KNOW FULL WELL SHE KNOWS THEY KILLED HIM. I'M GONNA RIP THEM TO SHREDS.

Wacky Fun: THE EVERYONE IS DEAD ENDING! All your faves died horrible, violent deaths (and some of them had to watch as others died!), there are no news anymore, the country is probably as fucked up and in disarray as in some of the others, and the only thing you can watch on TV is the most unhinged and manic children's programming. Still, this one has Geoff Algebra suffering, which is better than most of the epilogues here can offer.

Changing of the Guard: Nope nope nope nope. Fuck the military dictatorship ending. Worst possible outcome, you can't change my mind. Bad.

[pippin-katz]

I have to say that claiming this is an issue of “bad writing” is a ridiculously exaggerated and short-sighted take. This set me off because the phrasing and implication of this post seriously got under my skin.

You really think that these teenagers who have each just experienced intense trauma in their own ways and watched/saw their friend bleeding and dead on the floor would have the presence of mind to think about something like, “oh Death hasn’t shown up yet, that’s weird”?

You really think that they were going back through their memories of what happened to remember something unusual? That they would willingly choose to relive and think about one of the worst things that’s happened to them literally days afterwards?

Do you realize how little we know about the workings of the Afterlife?

We know basically nothing in the grand scheme of things. There are hundreds, probably thousands of rules, guidelines, and qualifications for death. Based on the Night Nurse’s book, apparently where you go after death is even influenced by the fucking phase of the moon it was.

We can’t even confirm that everyone who dies immediately becomes a ghost. All of the ghosts we encounter have been ghosts for a while, so when Death comes for them, it’s different. The only examples we see of a people dying and becoming ghosts immediately are the woman who leaps from the lighthouse and Charles. Those aren’t reliable examples because the woman falls under the category of suicide which has been established to create ghosts, and Charles’ death was a traumatic experience, and he has unfinished business as an abused teenager who spent his entire life trying to “make things better”.

Niko dies saving her friends. That’s a heroic death that feels like it could definitely be a believable type of closure for her soul.

We don’t know what determines whether someone becomes a ghost by default, or a ghost who chooses to stay like Charles. Crystal points out that the lighthouse victims aren’t actually suicides, so why are they still there? Charles responds with “they’re waiting for loved ones, it’s unfinished business”, but step back for a second. What determines someone has unfinished business?

Death doesn’t show up for them, at all, which is potentially due to the “suicidal” nature of their deaths. But these ghosts don’t actually know why they’re staying there because they’re still under Angie’s influence. Charles chooses to stay on his own volition and with a sound mind. He chooses not to pass on, even though he could've. So, how many of those ghosts that they help actually chose to stay, and how many were forced to stay? Crystal even says in the first episode that most ghosts are lost or cursed, but many of their clients seem to be aware of their issues. Susan says that she just wanted to visit the Devlin House one last time before moving on, and then heard the screaming. As a newly dead ghost, she was able to choose and go to the Devlin House. She's not lost, and definitely isn't cursed. Her unfinished business comes from what she finds there, not what she already knew, so why didn't Death take her immediately when she died?

We don’t know how long it takes Death to arrive, especially when it comes to events like fighting Esther. It seems like she shows up after the dust has cleared, which would explain why she hasn’t arrived yet when they’re leaving. There’s still too much happening right after Niko dies. Crystal is in mortal peril, Charles kills a snake that was granting Esther vitality, and the actual goddess Lilith shows up to take her.

Death’s appearance is impossible to measure. We haven’t seen how she works enough to make judgement calls.

Think about the WWI ghost at the beginning. She says she came for him back when he died in the war. Do you think that she just shows up on the battlefield the second any soldier is killed? That she just hangs out during the fight because hundreds of lives are all being taken in rapid secession? If she did, don’t you think more people would have seen her? Not everyone dies in battle, and all of them have had a near death experience, and “been near death”, so she would've been visible to them regardless of if they actually died or not.

We don’t know how long it takes her to collect a soul either. People are dying literally constantly. If we’re going based on the logic that she shows up immediately for every single soul, it's literally impossible. She would be flickering between places like a broken television. She would be busy, constantly, and probably be delayed from picking them up. What is something they’ve been saying the entire show?

“There were never supposed to be this many people in the world.” “There’s more dead people than the Afterlife can handle.”

Another great example of how little we know about the mechanics is Brad and Hunter's case. Brad and Hunter show up in front of the Tongue & Tail saying that they think they were murdered. The way they describe their experience, it sounds like they died really recently, or at least woke up as ghosts recently. But Niko says that the town had been mourning them for months. Nothing about Brad and Hunter's behavior indicates that they've been ghosts for months. And if they had been, why didn't they show up at the agency sooner? Their reputation caught fire in ep03; there was a whole line around the corner of ghosts. The Dead Dragons case isn't until ep05, seemingly in between cases despite how many ghosts supposedly have problems. And why did they not know who killed them? If people turn into ghosts directly upon their death, they would have been in Maren's bedroom while she was calling Richie. Clearly they didn't become ghosts until even after they had moved their bodies, since they didn't see Maren and Richie doing it. And that is an example of two normal deaths caused by poison.

Niko's death is far from normal. She dies from a magical bolt of some kind. It looks like fire, but pierces her like a blade, making her bleed. The group never knew what that bear charm did. Tragic Mick just calls it a good luck charm, and doesn't tell them anything else about it. Crystal likely forgot she even had it. Charles and Edwin didn't know at all. The Sprites disappeared with her for some reason, even though they were not using her as a host anymore.

And again, these are teenagers in a deadly situation who witnessed one of their friends get murdered before their eyes. Edwin had been in the device for who even knows how long before Crystal and Niko got there. Charles was chained in an iron collar, forced to listen to him scream while he tried to break free, and definitely hurt himself in the process; then he almost got eaten by a giant snake. Crystal had been facing Esther head on, was the one Niko jumped in front of, and had to dive into Esther's memory of that blood ritual to summon Lilith. If you expect them to remember the details or choose to think about it so soon after losing her, you are delusional.

They do not have the vantage point we have. They can't pause, rewind, or rewatch the events of their time in Port Townsend. They don't get to see the others' point of views. If you feel emotional watching the events play out, imagine how they, the characters actually experiencing them, feel. We can step away from the TV when it gets overwhelming. We can turn the show off. They can't do that.

All of this is to say that claiming this mystery to be a case of "bad writing" because no one has brought it up is incredibly ridiculous. This is absolutely not a case of bad writing, and if you thought passed the things we think we know, and considered what we don't know, you'd see how outlandish that statement is.

(ko-fi)

I feel like it’s like. a ridiculously huge plot hole that not a single person in the group questioned what the fuck happened to niko in the finale. like. they automatically jump to “she moved on to her afterlife” when that makes zero sense and is literally impossible from what they saw happen in front of them. you’re telling me the boys who have been running from death for 30 years wouldn’t instinctually feel a pang of panic knowing that she should be showing up any minute to collect niko. and they wouldn’t notice that, for some reason, she doesn’t. not a single person questioned why they never saw niko as a ghost. esther even says something like “so what, you’ll just have another ghost friend” like it was POINTED OUT and no one thought a damn thing even when they’re all craned over her body and sobbing. even when they’re going through her apartment and packing her things. it wouldn’t occur to anyone? was whoever wrote this part half asleep or in a huge hurry to get the script done or something because it’s possibly the most egregious plot hole in the entire show

[miekasa]

random armin/mikasa/jean headcanons (college au)

↯ pairing: armin x (fem) reader, mikasa x (fem) reader, jean x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: college au, fluff, lets see how many times i can mention eren in writing that has absolutely nothing to do with him

↯ notes: this.... probably won’t be a regular thing, i don’t know that i can consistently continue writing for them, but this sure was fun and reminded me that i actually have feelings for someone other than levi :// didn’t ask for that, but here we are

ARMIN ARLERT

Would most likely get pretty good grades, but he can definitely be lazy about it and hear me out.

If it’s a class that he likes and is genuinely interested in (which is the majority of them), he’s going to put in the work—sometimes too much work—to make sure he’s doing well. He usually studies very meticulously, and stays on top of his game throughout the semester.

But if it’s one of those bs classes the university makes you take, or some kind of stupid elective that was the only course that could fit into his schedule? Well, Armin is smart enough to bullshit his way through anything, so he’s not going to exert himself for a class he doesn’t even care about. 

Oh, and he’s very vocal about complaining to you about said bullshit courses. (Completely justified, go off king).

“I swear sometimes the TA just lowers marks randomly to ‘keep the class average.’ Granted, I didn’t really study for the quiz, so I wasn’t expecting a stellar grade or anything, but I know they do that sometimes.” “Well, babe, why didn’t you study.” “Because I hate it, (Y/N).”

Like I said, takes school seriously and tries his best; but even he knows he doesn’t have to be at 100% all the time. It’s also kind of a flex how smart he is and how much he can get by on doing the absolute bare minimum.

Poor Connie is studying his ass off for their shared elective and Armin barely looked at the first page of the textbook, and he’ll probably get a 90 anyways.

Imagine he’s so caught up with his other classes, he actually forgets about a midterm for his stupid elective, and at first he’s freaking out, so you kind of have to remind him of who tf he is. You finally get him to relax and he blinks at you, “Oh right, I didn’t study because I didn’t have to haha nice.” 

Helps you prepare for presentations by letting you practice them in front of him. Actually gives good feedback, but sometimes he’s just watching you and not really listening.

Sometimes, you have to be the one to remind him to take a step back and take care of himself, before his schoolwork. He doesn’t like to worry you, and likely feels guilty when he sees you walking up to him in the library at 2am; so he won’t fight you on it, and just lets you help him pack up all his stuff and head home for the day.

Likes head massages. Maybe sometimes has faked a little bit of a headache to get you to massage his head and play with his hair. He’ll never tell.

If you rub his cheek while he’s laying on top of you, he will knock out like a baby. Almost immediately. It’s a surefire way to get him to go to sleep.

Schedules dates with you, and plans them out meticulously. Sometimes gets playful and sends you a whole ass e-vite.

“Armin, why do I have an email invitation for our date to the library?” “So that you don’t forget, of course.” “How could I forget, it’s later today, and you’re literally helping me study for my midterm.” “With popcorn!”

Probably the type to get a job on campus. You and your friends come to visit him when he’s on shift and annoy him. He secretly likes it.

Oh, he’s kind of shady. Scratch that, can be very shady. He complains about school to you, but also just complains to you in general; he doesn’t outwardly do that a lot, but you’re his confidant.

Sometimes you get surprised and call him out on it and you’re like “Oh my god, Armin, the poor girl didn’t mean to mess up the project,” and he’s like “Well. Sometimes people are idiots and it has to be said.”

Has a bad habit of rolling his eyes and he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it. “Did you just roll your eyes at me.” “I don’t know, did I?” Bye.

His hands are always covered in some kind of ink/markings. Accidental brushes of his pens, streaks from his highlighters or markers, a little bit of lead from his pencil along the side of his palm.

Speaking of which, he strikes me as the kind of guy to keep a bullet journal. Not necessarily decked out and fancy with Polaroids and extravagant fonts; but definitely neat, and decorated to some extent, depending on how he’s feeling. It makes him feel organized.

He would pencil in important dates and markers of your relationship into said journal. “Friday night: museum date—remember to buy the tickets in advance.”

If anyone is going to buy, wash, peel, and cut up fruit for you, it’s going to be Armin.

Lowkey tutoring all of his friends, and might be the sole reason that Connie hasn’t dropped out yet. He likes tutoring you the most, though. 

Get this, sometimes he asks you to tutor him, even if he knows damn well he doesn’t need it. Maybe he’ll even sign up for a stupid elective if it’s a class you’ve taken before, just to have an excuse to get you to teach him something. 

Likes trying new things with you. He might not always like the new things that you try, but he’s open to trying them at least once. Well… most things anyways. Just don’t ask him to get up at dawn and go jogging with you.

I genuinely cannot tell if he would be a morning person or not. Maybe mid-morning. Probably not a rise-and-shine at 6am kind of guy, but is up by at least 10:00am every day. Very cute when he’s groggy though, and stumbles around a bit like a baby deer when he first gets up, especially if he’s hungry.

He likes to bike. And really likes when you go on bike rides with him. As long as you both are on your own bikes, you learned the hard way that tandem biking isn’t cut out for you.

Knows that all-nighters aren’t good for you, but sometimes you have to pull them anyways. If you both have a lot to get done, he’ll stay up with you and make sure you both take breaks and drink water.

Can twirl his pens in that really fast and fancy way, and can do the thing where he rolls it between all his fingers too. I’ll let you think bout the implications of that for yourself.

He likes watching cartoons, and reels you into all his favorites. Definitely likes to stay in on weekends watching cartoons with you and just chilling.

Will go to a party with you if you ask, or if his friends are hosting, but nothing beyond that. You didn’t hear this from me, but he’d probably like to smoke more than drink.

Sometimes you think he needs a break and you commission Eren to take him out for the night, but Armin still comes back looking more composed than him. A little sleepy and maybe a bit out of it, but not sloshed, much to your disappointment. “Eren, you really couldn’t have tried to be more a bad influence?? I was counting on you!!”

Eren’s confused, like, “Did you want me to get him white boy wasted??” “Yeah, kinda!! It’s what he deserves every once in a while. Ugh, next time I’m calling in Sasha, she knows how to drink.”

By the way, if you’re dating Armin, you’re kind of dating (or at least babysitting) Eren too. Or vice versa. Either way, they will also go on dates without you. (“Hanging out. We’re hanging out, and I’m tutoring him so he doesn’t fail Biology, (Y/N).” “Likely story, ocean eyes.”)

Can be touchy in a very absentminded way. He’ll reach out to play with your ears/earrings, habitually rub at your shoulders if you’re standing in front of him, mindlessly toy with the ends of your clothing. Half the time he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, he’s so cute.

Plays one sport—is on the soccer team. It keeps him busy, and forces him to focus on something that isn’t academics once in a while. He’s pretty good at it, too; he and Eren make a good team when they play together.

You and Eren tried to get him to join the baseball team too. Eren, because he likes playing with Armin. You, because, well… the uniforms. He would look so good in the uniform.

MIKASA ACKERMAN

Makes her classes look like a breeze, even though it’s at least 300 pages of reading and writing per week.

Kind of gives me Elle Woods “What, like it’s hard?” kind of vibes when it comes to schoolwork. You’re in awe of how she just did 75 pages of reading with a tiny ass font in one sitting, and she just blinks at you like “Was it supposed to be difficult?”

Speaking of which, she likes to read in general; for leisure, outside of her school work. She’ll recommend you books, too. If you don’t like to read, she’ll still try and rope you in with shorter stories, or just read them aloud to you herself. 

Sits at a table across from you while you both do your schoolwork independently. It doesn’t sound like much, but it’s a quiet, almost implicit sense of intimacy that she really likes.

Bundles you up when it’s cold, and won’t take no for an answer. You will wear a hat, whether you like it or not.

Always prepared—and by that I mean, she carries things on her that she realizes you might need. Tissues, extra pens, an extra pair of mittens. She strikes me as the kind of person to pay attention to details like those.

Likes to walk you to class, even if her class is very far away from your building. She doesn’t mind.

On that note, she knows your schedule pretty well, where it pertains to classes and personal interests.

If you’re the type of person who can slack off or even just get caught up in other things when it comes to school work, she’ll be there to keep you on track and hold you accountable. Usually through setting aside times to study with you, but can even be through small things like asking you how your assignment is going.

(Nevermind that you completely forgot about the assignment, and hadn’t even started it—but that’s the point; she knew that).

Hear me out: holding pinkies. Maybe not when you’re walking, but when you’re seated next to each other. The longer you’re together, the more likely she is to initiate it, too.

Would rather study at home/in her apartment than in the library, but if you like to study there, she can compromise a few days out of the week.

Makes you playlists, and they’re usually really good, because she knows you so well. Sometimes she gets cute and customizes the cover art to a picture of the both of you.

She’s your ride or die, so if you complain to her about a prof you don’t like or a TA you don’t think is fair she’s 100% on your side. She might not always be able to do anything about it, but she’ll definitely let you complain to her.

Texts you throughout the day to check up on you, but usually disguised through other questions. Asks what you want/had for lunch when she’s really checking to make sure you ate. Asks you what time your lectures end, just to make sure you didn’t skip it (again). Asks you what time you’re going to be done studying to make sure you don’t stay up all night cramming again.

Takes a genuine interest in your courses, and absolutely loves to listen to you talk about them.

If your classes are vastly different, she’ll still try and help you however she can, even if it’s only in small ways, like proofreading something for you.

Doesn’t use emojis alot, so your contact doesn’t have a bunch of hearts next your name on anything. But she does put your last name in as Ackerman. 

Has social media, but mostly uses it to keep up with her friends, and you. You’re in most of the few pictures that she does post, and she might not say it, but she really likes it when you post photos of/with her. 

Not sure why, but I think she’d be a pretty decent artist if she tried. That trend of doing glass paintings on TikTok? I think she’d be into that, and would plan out the whole thing as a date with you.

Keeps up with all your favorite shows to talk about or watch them with you. Sometimes she’ll purposely miss a few episodes so that she can spend the night and marathon them with you.

Likes to stay in and drink cheap wine and just watch or talk about whatever with you. You could watch a terrible show just to laugh and comment on it the entire time and she would be so happy. 

Doesn’t like to sit down on public transportation, and honestly would rather you didn’t either, but she’s not going to stop you from taking a seat. If you’re sitting, she’ll stand in front of/over you, and always keeps wire headphones long enough for you to share music that way.

The most insufferable human when she’s sick and she knows it. She hates being sick. And she knows you shouldn’t be around her or else you might get sick but she also just wants you to hold her. (You do).

Likes to sleepover at your place. Talks with you about your day while you lay down. Always smells good. Very cuddly when sleepy. 10/10.

Hates the act of doing her laundry, but likes doing it with you. Lowkey starts buying and using the same detergent and fabric softener as you because it makes her smell like you.

Gets very embarrassed if you kiss her in public. Very red in the cheeks, it’s kind of cute, so I wouldn’t blame you if you did it on purpose.

JEAN KIRSTEIN

Jean is… quite smart, if you ask me. Or, at the very least, analytical, which can be applied to a variety of academic settings.

The only thing is, he’s incredibly lazy about it. He wants to do well in school, and can definitely pull himself together for a midterm or an exam; but is horrible at keeping pace with all his other work and assignments on a regular basis.

He also can’t sit still, which is why even though he is very kind and chivalrous and brings many snacks to your study sessions, he is also competing for number one worst study partner. Right next to Eren and Sasha.

Gets pouty when you tell him you don’t want to study with him. “But… but… but I brought snacks! And bubble tea!” “Yes, but you also have the attention span of a rabbit, Jean.”

At the end of the day he understands… that doesn’t mean he’s not going to be bitter about it LOLOL. It’s fine, you can make it up to him by hanging out with him afterwards.

Is, like, classically trained in at least two instruments because his mom put him in lessons as a child. He used to hate it growing up, and he doesn’t practice much now, so he never talks about it.

One day you happen to mention something about comparing two songs, telling him they remind you of each other but you don’t know exactly why or why, and very nonchalantly he’s like, “They sound similar because they share the same major chord in the chorus, and they’re in the same key.” 

And you just kind of blink at him like, “Okay, Beethoven. How. How did you know that.”

Once you realize he can, like, actually play the piano and violin really well you’re always begging him to play for you. It doesn’t happen often—it’s not like he owns a violin anymore and he certainly doesn’t have a grand piano in his shitty college apartment—but sometimes you sneak into the music room when it’s empty and he’ll play something for you.

He’s a romantic at heart, so he doesn’t mind, and if anything kind of enjoys you watching him play. It’s much better than playing for random parents in a recital. You’re dead if you ever mention it to any of his friends though.

Also not a frat boy, but definitely likes to party. Everything with reason. If he crushed a midterm on Thursday, he deserves to throw back a few beers on Friday night, you know?

Touchy when he’s drunk. Well, touchier than normal; he’d be the most affectionate out of every one on a regular basis. But he’s touchy and messy when he’s drunk, so he’s all over you.

Messy, but happy. All smiles and giggles and red cheeks, with his arm around your shoulder, boasting you anybody who will listen about his super hot girlfriend.

He and Eren throw the best parties when they team up together. (Only slightly related, but those two, when drunk together, could probably pass as a couple; they’re so uncharacteristically happy, and affectionate. You may or may not be keeping some photo and video evidence of Eren and Jean drunk cuddling).

Sends you videos when you’re in the middle of class. And only then. He plans it to be annoying. Because he is annoying.

Also always sending you those in-messsage games while you’re in the middle of lecture or studying. “PLEASE play virtual pool with me!! I’ll even let you win one round!!” “I AM TRYING TO LEARN!!” “LEARN LATER 😡😡😡”

A fucking fiend in your Instagram comments. It’s a miracle none of them have been removed or reported for inappropriate content. Replies to OTHER people’s comments complimenting YOU!! He’s so much

@sashabraus: aww you look so cute @youruser!! that color looks so good on you 💕 @jeannotjean: omg omg tysm @sashabraus 😊 i picked it myself @youruser: SHE WAS TALKING TO ME @jeannotjean!!! ME!!! @jeannotjean: @youruser you have no proof 🙄 @youruser: SHE USED MY @!!!! GET OUT OF MY COMMENTS!!! @jeannotjean: you’re so hot when you yell at me via insta comments 🥵🥵🥵 would it be better if i slid into your dm’s instead 😫😫😉 @youruser: @jeannotjean BLOCKED!! EFFECTIVE IMMEDIATELY!!

You try explaining your coursework to him and he’s just looking at you with puppy dog eyes like, “I haven’t a clue what you’re talking about, babe, but you look hot while doing it, so, please, continue.”

He’s another cocky annoying bastard (endearing). Always tilting you head up to look at him and smirk at you. Pisses you off just to put his arm around your shoulder and be like, “It’s okay, I know you love me anyways.” Winks at you in public just to embarrass you. He’s the worst. The worst.

King of picking you up and throwing you over his shoulder for absolutely no reason at all.

He lowkey wants to get an ear piercing and uses you to talk him into it. “Don’t you think I’d look hot with a piercing? I think I would.” “You would look good regardless, Jean. So, do it if you want to.” “Right. But, like.... do you think I would look hot.”

For as annoying and cocky as he can be, the second you actually genuinely tell him you think he’s attractive or talented or whatever, he gets kind of shy. It’s very cute. 

Likes trying new restaurants with you, even though he really should stop spending all his money on food. Sometimes trying new restaurants means ordering from a new place, but it’s whatever, you know.

Honestly… the two of you would probably have a ridiculously high Uber Eats bill. You really should go outside and, like, be people every once in a while LOLOL

Okay, but it’s mostly Jean’s fault. For as much as he likes to party, and doesn’t mind hosting a party, he doesn’t do much beyond that. He hangs out with his/your friends, and with you, obviously, but he’s not the kind of guy to have his weekend booked up all the time.

He would much rather stay in with you, and talk trash about his stupid group project partners, and lay on your stomach and try to teach you how to play his favorite video games.

Spoiler: he fucking lies and/or leaves out key parts of the gameplay!! Just so he can crush you and laugh about it!! Annoying, but you’re the one keeping him around, so, who can you really blame but yourself.

[tchallasbabymama]

Instinct

Hello, fellow whores. You asked for it and I hope I delivered. I present to you: T’Challa in heat❤️‍🔥! This one had me blushing, y’all.

The next request I work on will either be sugar daddy silver fox T’Challa or Star-Lord T’Challa. I know I just threw the latter in the lineup, but apparently, people are seriously feeling the lack of Star-Lord T content here and I want to do what I can to help fill the void.

Check out my masterlist to read my other stories and oneshots, and, as always, comments and reblogs are my lifeblood! Enjoy😘

Word count: 4,903

CW: SMUT, infidelity

Instinct [instiNG(k)t] noun: an innate, typically fixed pattern of behavior in animals in response to certain stimuli.

For centuries, the descendants of the great Bashenga retained their hold on the Wakandan throne. Challenge Day after Challenge Day, they beat their opponents and were rewarded by Bast allowing them to ingest the heart-shaped herb. The herb imbued them with a panther’s strength, speed, and instincts, effectively turning each of them from an ordinary man into the Black Panther. Now, strength and speed are pretty self-explanatory, but what exactly were their instincts?

When T’Challa was crowned king and ingested the heart-shaped herb, he visited the ancestral plane and reconnected with his baba. Their reunion was one full of tears, but most importantly, T’Chaka took the time to impart his wisdom to his son. T’Challa spent hours talking to his baba about life, what to expect as king, and, most importantly, what to expect as the Black Panther.

T’Chaka had warned him about what was to come, but until it happened to him months later, T’Challa was in denial. It couldn’t be that bad, right?

Wrong. When T’Challa woke up one sunny Wednesday morning, he felt strange. He felt feverish but not sick. Like most days, his morning wood stood at attention, tenting the crisp white sheets that laid across his lower half. He looked at the clock and saw that he had plenty of time to take care of himself, so he rolled to his side and reached for the tub of shea butter in his nightstand. T’Challa bit his lip as he rubbed his hands together to melt it down, but when he reached down to stroke his length, he nearly bit clean through it. He was much more sensitive than usual, and he wondered why...then it hit him. He jumped up and grabbed his kimoyo beads with his slippery hands, and he frantically opened his calendar.

“Twelve weeks,” T’Challa groaned as he counted backward to the night he became the Black Panther (the second time.) “Fuckkkk.”

He was in heat, and it was only going to get worse. T’Challa wracked his brain for ideas on what to do to fix his problem, but all he could hear was T’Chaka’s words echoing through his head.

“You should find a partner sooner rather than later. The instinct will take over you, and it will become unbearable if you do not have anyone to aid you.”

T’Challa had been so busy trying to rebuild the kingdom that his cousin damn near broke that he had forgotten to look for someone. Sure, there was Nakia, but she had moved to Oakland and their relationship quickly fizzled out. Then, there was that one Dora Milaje after he regained the throne, but that was a one-night thing and she went back to her wife the next morning. He needed to find someone, but who?

As the king’s mind wandered through his options, sweat beads began to form on his chiseled body. He knew he’d be no good today, so T’Challa typed up a message to his family and staff that he would be taking the day off. With that taken care of, all he needed to do was figure out how to get through this heat in one piece. T’Challa looked down at his dick again. It was swollen with need, and he watched as droplets of precum escaped from his tip. He couldn’t take it anymore and decided to bear through the sensitivity. Carefully, as though he might hurt himself, he reached his hand down and grabbed it in his hand. The whimper he let out was foreign to his ears, but it was all he could do when he felt the intense wave of arousal wash over him. He gritted his teeth as he began to slowly move his hand up and down his shaft. It seemed that everywhere his hand went, it left a deep burning sensation in its wake, but he just couldn’t stop. He rutted into his hand, and as soon as his thumb swiped over his reddened tip, he came undone quicker than he ever had before. His body jerked as the milky white substance spilled over his hand, and it seemed that he had plenty to give. However, instead of leaving him sated, all that did was arouse him more.

T’Challa had made a mess all over himself and decided to take a shower, but every touch of his hand, or even the water, drove him up the walls. He needed some pussy, fast. He exited the shower and allowed his body to air dry as he moisturized his mahogany skin. Minutes passed before he noticed that he was still massaging himself, too caught up in the sensation to notice the passage of time. His dick was rock hard again, and he groaned in frustration as he attempted to stuff it into silk lounge pants. He called for his breakfast to be brought to him and spent the day in his quarters, alternating between desperately jacking off and going through his contacts to find the right person. It had been so long since he had opened that figurative little black book that all of his usuals were taken, and unfortunately for him, they were hellbent on remaining faithful for some reason. As the day went on, his hunger grew in intensity, and it got to the point where neither his hand nor his sex toys could cut it anymore. He felt lost, he felt horny beyond belief, and he felt...famished.

T’Challa looked at the time again and realized that he hadn’t eaten in hours. He placed another order from the kitchen and waited impatiently for it to arrive. It wasn’t that he couldn’t wait for the food to be brought up; he was impatient because every moment that passed without him touching himself brought him more pain. He didn’t need the poor kitchen staff walking in on him feverishly pleasuring himself, so he just sat there and attempted to focus his mind elsewhere. Eventually, there was a knock at the door, and he breathed a sigh of relief.

“Room service,” a melodic voice called out, and T’Challa smiled to himself at his friend’s playful tone. It was Xoliswa. He hadn’t seen her in almost a week, and he was sure she was out of town, yet here she was bringing him his dinner. Xoliswa started working in the kitchen at the palace seven years ago, and they grew close over the years. He was even in her wedding.

T’Challa unlocked the door with his beads, and she came right on in with the cart full of more food than he usually ordered.

“Somebody’s hungry today,” she joked. Just as T’Challa was about to respond with some smartass remark, an aroma hit him square in the face. It definitely wasn’t coming from the heaping portions of doro wot and rum cake he ordered. It was sickly sweet and made the hairs on the back of his neck stand at attention, as well as something else.

The king began to salivate. “New perfume?”

“No, just the usual,” Xoliswa sighed. “Why?”

“No reason. You just smell different today is all,” he gulped to keep from drooling at her smooth, brown legs that were always on display. His eyes traveled up to the curve of her hips and the thickness of her waist before grazing over her delicious-looking chest and landing on her plump lips. Of course, he had noticed her looks before, and they would playfully banter and flirt back and forth from time to time, but this was the first time he was really seeing her beauty. Not only could he see it, but he could smell her from across the room, and his body was reacting in ways he couldn’t control. His dick sprung up and immediately started to harden as he watched her ass bounce in her flowy shorts when she pushed the cart out to the balcony. She had gone too far away, and he felt the intense need to be closer to her, so he bolted up and made his way outside with her.

“Here, let me help you.” T’Challa quickly picked up the heavy tray before she could and placed it on the table before taking his usual seat.

“I thought you didn’t feel good today,” she crossed her arms over her chest, unintentionally pushing her ample breasts even closer together. His body burned at the sight, and he visualized his lips wrapped around her undoubtedly perky nipples. He needed her body on his, but he knew he shouldn’t. Xoliswa was a friend, a confidant, a married woman...

“I don’t,” T’Challa cleared his throat and tried to focus his mind on anything but her. It wasn’t working, though. “But, uh, it’s not what you think. I just needed a day, that’s all.”

“Want to talk about it?” Xoliswa asked as she leaned against the balcony. He was acting strange, and it concerned her. “You know I’m here for you if you need me.”

“Don’t say that,” he chuckled darkly as something flared inside him.

“Why not?” she tilted her head to the side and uncrossed her arms. He would’ve sighed in relief, but she just made it worse by stepping closer to him. Xoliswa placed her hands on his shoulders the way she always did and began kneading his bare flesh. Little did he know, he wasn’t the only one fighting back their arousal. Xoliswa had a small crush on T’Challa since the moment she laid eyes on his muscular frame. Had she not been in a relationship the entire time she’d known him, she would’ve dropped down on her knees and given him the business by now. However, Xoliswa loved her husband and wouldn’t dream of doing such a thing...except for the occasional nights where she closes her eyes and all she can see is him. All she can feel is the king.

T’Challa let out a low groan as her hands worked out his stress, and as usual, the sound made Xoliswa flood the panties that had gotten wedged between her fat pussy lips. The scent of her arousal traveled straight to his nostrils, and his pupils blew wide. He jumped up and crossed the balcony in just a few quick strides, needing to get away from her before he truly lost himself to his lust.

“Seriously, what’s up with you today?!”

“N-nothing, you just...you smell so good, and- Xo, I can’t.”

“Can’t what?” Xoliswa narrowed her eyes as she tried to figure out what could possibly be wrong with him...but then her eyes fell to the large dickprint in his silk pants. She had seen him in those and similar pants several times before, and although they always left little to the imagination, she had never seen him in his full Bast-given glory. But this time? This time she could almost make out every vein through the soft fabric, which made her pussy spasm with need and release more wetness.

T’Challa could see that Xoliswa was staring right at his dick, and he knew she liked what she saw by the whiff of sweet honey that wafted his way. A low rumbling started in his chest like an engine revving as the burning need in his loins intensified.

Xoliswa spoke barely above a whisper, stunned but in awe of the man before her, “Why are you-”

“My heat,” he sighed.

“Your what?”

“My heat!” T’Challa snarled, and she nearly jumped out of her skin. Any other time, he would assume he had scared her, but he knew better now. He could hear her heartbeat, he could smell her dripping pussy, and he could see her hardened nipples and the way her luscious thighs rubbed together in a feeble attempt to quell the throbbing between her legs.

“W-what’s that?”

T’Challa gestured for her to take a seat, and she lowered herself into the chair across from his, squirming in her pooled fluids. Her obedience just made him harder, if that was at all possible. He gingerly sat down across from her and just stared for a moment, her breathing getting shallower with each inhale.

“One of my newly acquired panther instincts requires me to, uh, mate every three months.”

“So...you basically ovulate four times a year,” Xoliswa joked in an attempt to break the tension, but he began to growl at her again, causing them both to shudder at the other’s arousal.

“It’s more than being a little horny and fertile, Xo. I have to- no, I need to find a release, or I’ll go crazy. My whole body is on fire, and masturbating just makes it worse. I’ve been in here all day-”

“You’ve been in here jacking off all day?”

“Yes.”

“And it’s not helping?”

“Not at all.”

“Have you tried-”

“Yes. Whatever it is, I’ve tried it. Trust me.”

Silence descended upon the pair as they both stared at each other, stuck in a lustful feedback loop, chests heaving and mouths watering. Xoliswa was the first to break, so she stood and headed for the door. She had to get out of there, the atmosphere was too thick, and she couldn’t think straight with him staring at her like a piece of meat. She couldn't stand to look at him any longer or she might do something she’d regret later, but when he grabbed her wrist and looked up at her with those pitch-black eyes, she knew she was in trouble.

“Xoliswa, please,” he begged. He knew he had no business asking that of her, but he was desperate, and she just looked so damn delicious.

She bit her lip as her eyes traveled back down to his bulge that had started leaking through the fabric of his pants.

“Shit…”

“You like what you see?” his voice was lower than she’d ever heard. It seemed like everything he did turned her on more and more. T’Challa took a deep inhale so he could know for sure, and his head swarmed with the smell of her. “Yeah, you like it. I can smell that sweet pussy; it’s dripping for me, Xo.”

He had never spoken to her like that before, and every word lured her further into his trap. She had a brief moment of clarity and pulled her wrist from his grasp, taking a step back.

“T-T’Challa, I’m married-”

“Tell your body that, then,” he grumbled as he stood and stalked closer to her. She backed up with every step he took until she was wedged between his body and the doorframe. His arms went up on either side of her, and he leaned in close enough for her to feel his breath tickle her lips. “Tell me right now: do you want me?”

Her eyes darted around, desperate to look at anything but the coal irises that would surely draw her in. “I-I-”

“Say it, Xo. I want you so fucking bad,” T’Challa growled with his face buried in her neck, imprinting her scent deep in his brain. He knew he shouldn’t, but he couldn’t help but take a little bite. As soon as his teeth made contact with her skin, she let out a light moan and set his body into overdrive. He pressed his hips into her, and the heat of her skin made him whimper. The noise shocked her, and she realized just how much he needed her...as if the ten inches of clothed steel pressing into her stomach wasn’t enough of a sign.

Xoliswa had secretly wanted this for a long time. In her dreams, he’d fuck her good and deep and leave her a sobbing, leaking mess. Truthfully, if he had ever come onto her before this, she probably would have caved then, too, but she thought he was too gentlemanly to do so and pushed the dirty fantasy to the back of her mind. Boy, was she wrong. Right now, T’Challa couldn’t give a shit about chivalry and certainly didn’t care about her husband. Right now, all he wanted- no, all he needed was her body.

She pulled his curls to remove him from her neck, and he growled again at the titillating pain and the loss of contact.

“You want me?” she whispered, her lips mere centimeters from his.

“Mmm, more than anything.”

Xoliswa’s hand traveled down his body, leaving a trail of fire in its wake. T’Challa’s lip found its way between his teeth again as he struggled to maintain composure, but it all flew out the window when he felt her hand wrap around his throbbing length.

“Fuck! Xo, stop playing and-”

“You need me?” she teased as she pulled his pants down over his hips and let them pool at his feet. She wrapped both of her hands around his girth and stroked him softly. He was so sensitive that he jerked away from her hand, but she grabbed him and pulled him back in. Xoliswa had dreamed of this day, so why not make her dream come true?

Suddenly, T’Challa’s self-control went out of the window as he thrust into her hands and wrapped one of his much larger hands around her throat. She stared back at him with lust clouding her eyes as he met her lips for a hungry kiss. The taste of her on his tongue drove him wild, and she felt his dick begin to twitch. She picked up her pace and gripped him a little tighter, making him stick his tongue further down her throat. She melted into him. The firm grip he had on her made her knees weak, and just as they began to buckle, he pulled his lips from hers and said the three magic words he had uttered so many times in her dreams.

“On your knees.”

Xoliswa fell to the ground and looked up at him with her mouth opened wide for him to use. And use it, he did. T’Challa was surprised she could take all of him without any training, but he guessed her husband might have been around his size.

Her husband. He had a married woman on her knees, slobbering up and down his shaft. He had Xoliswa on her knees…

Just the thought of how wrong this was turned him on even more, and as if the same thought had occurred to her, Xoliswa started sucking harder. The spit foaming in the corners of her mouth and running down her chin soaked her chest, and the king longed to see more. He reached down and ripped her shirt down the middle, freeing her breasts from the confines of modern clothing. T’Challa grinned when he saw that not only was she not wearing a bra, but her nipples stood erect like two Hershey’s kisses ready for him to devour. Just the way he liked.

Xoliswa didn’t care that he had ruined her shirt; all she cared about was making her king cum. She wanted to taste him and swallow everything he had to give, so she grew impatient and turned it up a notch, fondling his balls in her hands as she sucked on him. Her tongue swirled around his tip, and he gripped her locs in his fist to hold her down on him as he exploded into her mouth. Splashes of him coated her throat, and she swallowed every last drop he gifted to her. She blinked up at him with those innocent-looking eyes as she sucked him like a straw, milking him for all he’s worth. Normally, he would get overstimulated at this point, but that seemed impossible. Xoliswa gave him the best head he’s had in a long time, but it still wasn’t enough to sate him.

T’Challa pulled her head off him, and the bridge of spit that connected them was a sight to see. He reached down and lifted her to her feet, kissing her once more to taste his saltiness on her tongue.

“You still...want...this pussy?” Xoliswa asked between kisses.

“Mmmmhmmm,” he grunted as he pushed up on her again.

Xoliswa pushed him away, and he looked at her like she had betrayed him. His face relaxed when he noticed the feral look in her eyes and the way her pheromones filled the air.

“Take what you need.”

T’Challa saw red, and the next thing he knew, he was buried deep inside her as he pounded her into the mattress. The arch in her back deepened as he fucked her rougher than her husband could have ever dreamed of. Xoliswa struggled to see as she reached for the sheets to hold onto, but he wouldn’t let her. T’Challa pinned her hands behind her back and continued to plow into her as she screamed.

“Fuck, yes! Just like that, baby! Ooooh, T’Challa-”

“You like that?”

“Yes!”

“Then take it. Fucking take it!” he roared as he released inside her, but neither was ready to stop. Xoliswa loved how his cum felt dripping out of her, making her pussy even wetter than it already was. Keeping it juicy for him to do whatever he needed to do to her body.

“This tight fucking pussy, Xo,” he groaned as he slowed down and grinded into her, stirring her insides. His heavy hand came down on her ass, and she let out the most adorable squeak. He smiled and did it again and again, her pussy tightening around him with every strike until she couldn’t take it anymore. Xoliswa’s body convulsed as she came all over the king’s dick.

“T’Challaaaa!” she wailed, and he stopped to massage her cheeks.

“Too much?”

She looked back at him and smiled mischievously with a glint in her eye. “No, my king.”

“I’m your king?” he teased while rubbing her clit, making her hips circle on his dick as he stood still and let her work.

“Yessss,” she whined.

“Then cum for your king one more time. I have another load for you,” he whispered in her ear with his teeth firmly gripping the lobe. His fingers tickled the underside of her clit, and she bucked her hips. “That’s your spot, huh?”

“Y-yes, my king!”

He alternated between circling her clit and strumming the underside for barely a few moments before her pussy began to grip him again. T’Challa leaned back and watched the way her pussy spasmed on him. He couldn’t hold out and exploded inside her once more.

“Mmmm, baby, I love when you do that.”

“You love when I cum in this pussy?”

“Mmmhm,” her voice grew higher in pitch the more she felt him twitch inside her.

“Good, because I’m not done with you yet.”

T’Challa pulled out slowly, and she moaned as his bulbous head dragged across her g-spot. He flipped her over with ease and slid right back into her slippery canal. She loved how full he made her feel, how he stretched her walls and beat the breaks off her pussy. But this? This felt so good.

His hips moved slowly as he stroked deep into her and gazed into her eyes.

“I just need one more, babygirl. One more, and I think I’ll be good, ok?”

“Whatever you need, my king,” Xoliswa whispered against his lips and pulled him into an open-mouthed kiss. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist, and he chuckled darkly.

“You want me in there deep, don’t you?”

“As deep as you can go, baby.”

“You’re filthy. Does your husband know what a little slut you are?”

Xoliswa released all over him again.

“Oh, you like when I talk about him when I’m in these guts? You like being reminded of how naughty you are, don’t you?”

“Mhm,” Xoliswa nodded with tears threatening to fall from her eyes from how good it felt to have T’Challa inside her.

“Let me ask you something,” he leaned in close to her ear and thrust harder. “Does he fuck you like I do?”

Xoliswa frantically shook her head, “N-no!”

“Then you come to me whenever you need a taste of what a king can do for you.”

“Yes, baby!” she keened as he picked up the pace and dropped his weight on her.

“You know this pussy is mine, now, right? He can use it if you want him to, but this shit belongs to me. You’re fucking mine, Xoliswa.”

“T’Challa-”

“Mmmhm, say my name, babygirl. Tell them who owns this tight little pussy,” he punctuated those last three words with thrusts so deep she swore she could feel it in her ribs. “Who owns you?”

“T’Challaaaa!”

His eyes rolled back in his head at hearing his name fall from her lips. Her voice was shaky and hoarse, but she screamed his name over and over again as his hips pounded into hers, the curve of his dick angling just right to keep her creaming all over him.

“Fuck, baby, here it comes. You ready?”

Xoliswa looked him dead in the eye and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer. “Cum in your pussy, Black Panther.”

He hadn’t expected her to call him that, but it lit something within him, and he came harder than he ever had before. He bit into her neck as he spasmed inside her, pumping her full of his essence. She came from the feeling of him releasing so much and putting it right where it belonged. Their bodies fed off each other, and when one would spasm, it would trigger the other to cum. T’Challa peppered sweet kisses all over Xoliswa’s face and spoke to her in hushed tones, “Thank you, babygirl.”

Xoliswa couldn’t speak; she could only moan incoherently. Minutes passed before their bodies began to tire of the constant state of arousal, and they slowly pulled apart. She whimpered as she felt their fluids escape her and drip slowly down her crack, and he could only watch in awe. He had never produced so much, and he wasn’t sure if it was because of Xoliswa or his heat or a combination of both. Whatever it was, he wasn’t ready to give it up just yet.

“Call Abdul. Tell him you have to work tonight,” he rasped, making a devilish smile appear on her face. She knew she was in for the night of her life, and just the thought of what was to come had her playing with her overstimulated clit. He swatted her hand away and replaced it with his own. “Call him. Now. Make sure your camera is off.”

T’Challa kissed from her neck down to her chocolate nipples and took a bite, making her yip at the sensation. “Be quiet, or he’ll catch you. You don’t want that, do you?”

“N-no, my king,” she stuttered out as she pressed Abdul’s contact card and called him.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be working? Or are you slacking off with T’Challa again,” he joked, and Xoliswa locked eyes with a smug T’Challa as his tongue swirled around her nipple.

“N-no, I’m at work,” she struggled to speak as T’Challa trailed his tongue down her body and suctioned his lips around her clit. She snapped her legs shut around his head, making him pry them open with a menacing growl.

“What was that?” Abdul asked.

“What was what?” Xoliswa chuckled nervously.

“I thought I heard something. Anyways, what’s up, sweetie?”

“I, uh-” she stopped herself and muted the call for a moment to let out a moan from the pits of her soul as T’Challa showed no mercy on her. His tongue masterfully maneuvered around her clit like he designed it himself, and the three slender fingers curling inside her coaxed another orgasm out of her.

“Take him off mute right fucking now,” T’Challa ordered with a mouth full of pussy.

“Hello? Xo?”

She scrambled to unmute the call and calm her breathing down as the king nibbled on her labia and sped his fingers up inside her.

“I’m here, baby. I-have-to-work-late-so-I’m-staying-at-the-palace-tonight!”

“Wait, slow down. I can barely understand you. Are you ok?”

“I’m ok,” she giggled as T’Challa nibbled on her inner thighs. “I’m staying here tonight.”

“Oh, no problem. Don’t let T’Challa work you too hard, ok?”

“I won’t!” she squeaked.

“Good. You get back to work, and I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Tell him you love him,” T’Challa whispered against her pussy lips, and Xoliswa couldn’t help but oblige.

“Abdul?”

“Yeah, sweetie?”

“I-I love you.”

“I love you too, Xo. Call me when you get off,” he blew her a kiss through the phone, and she hung up right as T’Challa started chuckling.

“You almost got us caught!” she fussed.

“You liked it. Don’t lie.”

Xoliswa bit her lip to hide her smile, but it didn’t work.

“Maybe a little.”

“Mmmhm. Nasty slut, letting me use you like this. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.”

Xoliswa’s pussy jumped, and T’Challa couldn’t help but smile at her.

“Maybe you should teach me a lesson,” Xoliswa moaned as she ground her hips on his fingers, and his dick hardened right back up. “Or punish me.”

“Fuck, Xo, where have you been all my life?” he groaned and pulled his fingers from her, lining the head of his dick up with her entrance.

“Married...to my husband,” Xoliswa teased. T’Challa’s nostrils flared, and she knew it was on.

She wouldn’t be getting any sleep that night.

Taglist: @maddeningmayhem, @theblulife, @motheroffae, @love-mesome-me, @toni9, @bribrisback, @impremenior, @nahimjustfeelingit-writes, @dersha89

[somewhatgreatexpectations]

Goldrush (Taylor Sloane/ Reader)

Hello everyone!

Venturing out from Wanda/ Leigh to provide you all with, drum roll please... fluff! Taylor Sloane fluff to be specific! Loosely inspired by Taylor Swift's "Goldrush".

Summary: Social media influencer were shallow. You couldn't stand them... So why were you letting this one get close to you?

It took all you had to bite back the groan of annoyance when you stepped foot on the beach. Your little hideaway had been discovered and you weren’t sure if you’d be able to find peace there ever again if it was going to be full of all these shallow ‘influencers’.

“Nothing is sacred anymore.” You mumbled to yourself as you carefully pulled out your vintage Olympus OM-1. Your most prized possession.

As you began to prepare the film a commotion caught your attention. You turned your head to see someone approach a small group of obnoxiously loud people. It looked like the person was asking to take a picture with a blonde in the group. The sight immediately lost your interest as you turned your attention back to your film.

You were scouting to see if you would be using this location for your future photoshoots. That was your priority. Not the obnoxious people who wanted attention.

Carefully brushing away the sand, you wandered over to a manmade trail of rocks that lead out into the serene ocean. The sun gleamed brightly on the water and tinged it with an ethereal glow. A beautiful sight if you slowed down long enough to take it in. You kneeled so you were at eye level with the rocks, aligning the camera so it was could capture the sight, the cold water gently lapping against the soles of your worn-out converse.

Just as you had set up the shot a sharp cough made you jump, almost making you drop your camera into the water. The interruption alone made you clench your jaw in annoyance as you turned to find the source of the sound. Your eyes meeting with the blonde from earlier, a fake smile on her face. It was clear she was one of those ‘influencers’.

Beautiful but empty. An illusion of beauty.

“Can I help you?” You mumbled.

The plastic smile never wavered. “You’re a photographer.” You stared at her blankly, waiting for the question. “Can you take a picture for me and my friends? We’d ask someone else, but you’d probably be a little better.”

“Sure.” You eventually replied flatly, taking the phone she held out. The group arranged themselves against the light, so they’d all be washed out, but you didn’t say anything. That wasn’t your problem.

As soon as you lifted the phone they all stopped bickering and began laughing as if they had just heard the funniest joke . Several peace signs showing up among the group.

Fake, you thought to yourself as you took the photo. You then handed the phone back to the blonde, fiddling with the strap of your camera that was slung across your chest.

The woman immediately handed the phone back to you, making you furrow your brows in confusion. “We’re washed out. Do you mind taking it again, but like… better? Maybe try getting lower.” You bristled at the comment. The charming smile she flashed you was something you were certain got her whatever she wanted.

You almost denied the request just for the satisfaction. “Sure.” You mumbled again, crouching ever so slightly to take the picture again.

“Do you mind getting lower?” She questioned.

Before you could stop yourself, you made a face. “What? Like in the sand?”

“Yeah, that’d be perfect! Thanks.” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop the sarcastic comment that was threatening to fall from your lips. As you kneeled down in the sand you heard her whisper to her friends. “It’s cute, an amateur photographer being able to take pictures for me. She’s probably just nervous.”

The comment made your blood boil. That was the issue with all these influencers. They thought they were god’s gift to the world. That’s why you refused to work with them.

Without paying any attention, you took the picture and marched over to the woman. “Just so you know, I have no idea who you are. Have a nice day.” You said in an overly cheery voice, shoving the phone back into her hands.

The woman sputtered slightly in surprise, but before she could say anything you hurried away, clutching the strap of your camera tightly. You needed to find new places to shoot at.

_________________

As much as you tried to avoid all the places that the social media influencers went, you couldn’t help but go to this small café that they had infiltrated. It was on the edge of the coast, close enough that the ocean breeze swept through your hair as you read by the open window.

You had become such a fixture in the shop that the owners had come to expect you at least twice a week. Today was no different as you absently picked at the chocolate croissant that the owners granddaughter had eagerly given you.

Even the little girl had become familiar with your presence (mainly because you let her play with your older cameras when you were around).

Just as you were about to turn the page, the stillness of the café was interrupted by the sounds of exaggerated laughter. You refused to look up, you knew the type. They’d be gone as soon as they got their pictures anyway.

“Excuse me?”

You looked up to see two women standing before you, one the blonde from the beach. You were surprised to see she actually looked a bit uncomfortable when she saw it was you. “Yes?” You replied, placing a finger in your book so you wouldn’t lose your place.

“Do you mind switching places with us? This spot would make a better picture.” The other woman batted her eyelashes flirtatiously.

You couldn’t help but smile in disbelief. “You know what? Sure.”

The squeal that came from the other woman’s lips made you wince. “Perf! Let’s go get our stuff, Tay.” The other woman walked off as you turned to gather your things, it was time to leave. You had a photoshoot early the next morning anyway.

“What are you reading?”

Not looking up, you began packing your things into your backpack. “Middlemarch by George Elliot.” You replied. As much as you were sure this woman was vapid, you didn’t want to be rude. Even if the aftermath of her comment still prickled under your skin.

“What’s it about?”

Curiosity got the better of you as you finally turned to face her, eyeing her skeptically. “It’s about marriage, idealism, self-interest, hypocrisy, political reform… It’s a masterpiece in my humble opinion.”

The woman’s eyebrows raised interestedly. “You sound passionate about it.” You shrugged. It was your favorite book, but she didn’t need to know that. “My names Taylor.” The same charming smile she wore on the beach made a reappearance and you tilted your head in response, not impressed.

“Y/n.” You supplied.

There was a brief moment of silence in the air, Taylor’s smile wavered slightly. “About the beach, I think I came off as kind of a bi-”

“Tay! Let’s take a pic of our coffee. The beach in the background will be adorbs.” The other woman interrupted. “Do you mind?” She asked you, gesturing to the space you were standing in front of.

You pressed your lips together, shaking your head. “Not at all. It’s all yours.”

As you passed Taylor you made eye contact, she looked like she wanted to say something, but you had already walked away. Playfully you ruffled the hair of the owner’s granddaughter on the way out. You were so occupied by the way the young girl eagerly showed you the pictures she took that you didn’t notice the eyes that were watching you with interest.

_____________________

The movement around you faded as you focused on the controlled chaos that surrounded you, the people all living their own lives. Your fingers itched to capture these unsuspecting moments of beauty. Of the elderly couple holding hands on a walk, of the two friends laughing over a picture they had just taken, of the children playing catch with their dog. Of- your peace was interrupted when someone stepped into your line of vision.

You fought the urge to groan. “Are you following me?”

Taylor raised the bag in her hand, smiling slightly. “No. I was actually on my way home from the farmers market.” You squinted at her slightly, unsure of what that had to do with you. “I think we got off on the wrong foot yesterday.”

“What makes you say that?” Your paused slightly. “Do you think it’s because I’m an amateur photographer that’s nervous to be around you?” You asked with a mocking pout.

Her face flushed. “I didn’t mean to sound so…”

“Stuck up?” You offered flatly.

Taylor nodded slowly. “I swear I’m not… that type of person.”

You chuckled as you began packing your things. “Yeah, for some reason I don’t buy that.” When you stood you noticed how close she was to you. Your breath faltered slightly because you were certain you’d never seen eyes more beautiful in your life. “Why do you care? You don’t even know me.” You grumbled stepping around her.

Her footsteps followed you as she fell into step beside you. “I don’t know, you seem different than anyone I know.” You huffed in amusement. That was probably certain. “Let me show you I’m not as bad as you think I am.”

“You see, as intrigued as I am by that offer I think I’ll pass. I’ve seen your type.” You quipped, glancing at her out of the corner of your eyes. “I have an amateur shoot that I need to get to anyway.”

She groaned. “You’re not going to let that go, are you?” You shook your head. There was a brief pause. “Can I have your number?”

A short chuckle fell from your lips. “Seriously?”

Taylor nodded and held out her phone. “Get coffee with me this weekend and I’ll prove you wrong.”

You had to admit, the persistence was admirable, you’d even say cute. “Fine.” You took the phone and put in your number. “I really have to go.”

“See you this weekend. Same café on the coast.” Taylor said as you turned to leave.

_______________

When you arrived at the café you were greeted with warm smiles as the owner offered you a tea, and raised eyebrows when you requested two. You rolled your eyes at the suggestive waggle of eyebrows you received as you walked the teas over to a table in the corner.

Glancing down at your watch, you couldn’t help but frown. 12:05. It was five minutes passed the agreed upon meeting time.

A sigh fell from your lips when another fifteen minutes passed. You mentally berated yourself for allowing yourself to hope she wouldn’t be what you thought she was. Not even a moment later you heard the chime of the bell, indicating someone had entered.

Like a whirlwind, Taylor came rushing in just as you stood to leave. “Y/n.” She hurried over to the table. “There was an accident and they stopped the freeway. Like… completely stopped it. We literally just sat there for twenty minutes. I was supposed to be here at 11:50.”

Despite yourself you couldn’t help but be amused. “Taylor.” Her eyes were still a bit wide when she met your gaze. You enjoyed the authentic emotion she was showing. “It’s fine.”

“I’m not making a good impression, am I?”

You shrugged playfully as you took a seat again, Taylor taking the seat opposite of you. “You could be doing worse.”

Taylor pushed a hand through her hair. “That’s not very reassuring.”

Again, you shrugged. “I never said I was trying to reassure you.”

For a moment she just stared at you then burst out laughing. You couldn’t help but duck your head at the sound. “I’m glad you aren’t. It’s refreshing.” She admitted when her laughter faded away.

“What? Honesty?” You chuckled as she nodded. “I hate to break it to you, but if authenticity is refreshing, you should probably reevaluate the people you surround yourself with.”

Her hands fiddled with the tea cup that you slid over to her. “Yeah, well, we can’t all be contrarians.” She retorted back.

Her words peaked your interest, you raised an eyebrow. “Did you just call me out?”

The smirk on her lips made you fidget in your seat. “How’s it feel to be on the other end?”

You nodded approvingly. “Touché, Taylor... Touché.”

“I read that book you told me about. The Middlemarch?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise. “I liked it.”

For some reason you couldn’t help but feel skeptical. “Did you really like it?”

Taylor nodded. “Yes, I did!”

“Okay.” You accepted her words as you took a sip of your tea. “Why?”

The woman sitting across from you faltered slightly. “Why?” She repeated back to you.

Your brows furrowed. “Yeah... Why did you like it?”

For a moment you watched in amusement as Taylor looked around the café as if it would hold the answers she was searching for. “I liked the characters?”

The response came out in the form of a question and you couldn’t help but feel entertained. “You know, you don’t have to pretend around me.”

Taylor’s cheeks flushed, seemingly bothered by you not believing her. “Okay. I hated it.”

You couldn’t help the boisterous laugh that fell from your lips. “That’s better!” You exclaimed. “Tell me why.”

“It’s just so pretentious and dull. I thought my eyes would fall from their sockets if I had to read another page.” She admitted flatly, her eyes shimmering with confusion when you smiled back at her.

“That’s what I like to hear!” You said encouragingly.

Taylor let out a disbelieving laugh. “What? I just insulted your favorite book.”

You nodded enthusiastically. “I know. It’s amazing.”

“You can’t be serious.” She mumbled suspiciously.

You leaned across the table slightly. “I am, and you know why? Because you’re finally being authentic.” Silence. “Look, Taylor, you don’t have to like this book because it’s my favorite or because it would make your followers think you're intriguing if you did. Ignore what everyone else is telling you to think because none of it matters. The way I see it is, you can lie and pretend to like what everyone says you should like and be miserable OR…”

Taylor leaned forward a bit as well. “Or?”

You smiled. “Or you can be honest and say when you hate something and talk about what you love instead… and be happy.”

Taylor’s breath hitched slightly and for a moment she just stared back at you. “Show me.”

“Show you what?” you questioned curiously.

“Show me how you see the world.”

For a moment you considered her words, your heart racing in your chest. “Well let’s start with this small little coastal town.” The invitation was wordless as you stood and offered her your hand.

Her hand twitched for a moment as if she was silently debating with herself. The smile she gave you when she finally took your hand took your breath away. You rolled your eyes at the way the owners watch you walk out of the shop hand-in-hand.

________________

“Babe.” Taylor whined quietly.

You raised an eyebrow in surprise. Smirking when you finally processed the word. After dating for a few weeks the term of endearment was new. “Babe you say?” You teased lightly.

Her cheeks flushed red. “When I asked you to take a picture of me, I meant with my phone not on film.” She mumbled, ignoring your question.

You decided you wouldn’t comment on it.

Just like you wouldn’t comment on the way she’d develop the film herself just like you taught her. You wouldn’t comment on the way she'd smile when they developed just right. You wouldn't comment when she would say how much better the picture looked on film… And you definitely wouldn’t comment on how endearing you found every single thing she did either.

“Taylor, everything looks-”

“Better on film.” She finished with a playful eyeroll. “I know. You probably tell me that mmm… at least once a day.”

Laughing quietly, you held the camera up to your eye, so you could focus the shot. “Only once a day? I’m going to need to step it up.”

Taylor shook her head lightly, her eyes twinkling from your antics and her lips forming into the beginnings of a genuine smile. You took the shot.

That was an authentic Taylor. No peace signs and fake smiles. The real Taylor was all twinkling eyes and crooked smiles. You had never seen a more beautiful sight.

And when she wandered over to press her lips tenderly against yours, you were sure you’d never felt anything more beautiful either.

__________________

Taylor surprised you. And you fell for her. Fast.

Four months with her and you were certain you were ruined for anyone else.

She was something your heart had never expected.

“Babe?’ you hummed distractedly. “Babe!”

You blinked rapidly, refocusing on the world around you. “Yes?”

Taylor’s laugh drifted into your ears and you smiled at the sound. “I was asking if you’ve seen my Eagles shirt?”

“It was hanging on the door.” You mumbled. “Wait. Don’t you mean my Eagles shirt?”

She pecked your lips to avoid answering. “Thanks, babe!” Taylor winked and ran over to the door, pulling the shirt over her head. “Anything on the agenda for the day?”

You began getting dressed. “I have a photoshoot where they’re giving me complete creative freedom. Then I’m meeting with my manager since I have a few more offers to shoot a couple different things.”

A soft noise of excitement fell from her lips. “Everybody wants you.” She padded across the room, her arms draping around your shoulders. “And I have you.”

The smile on both your faces made it almost impossible to kiss, but you didn’t let that stop you.

_________________

The movement around you faded out as you looked over your camera, feeding the film into the machine serenely. You had no idea who you were shooting today, but the company who booked you was very eager to work with you and let you have complete creative freedom. Complete creative freedom meant film for you. Not digital. The thought alone excited you. “She’s here. Are you ready?”

You looked up at your assistant after you were sure your camera was ready. “Did they water the rose bush?”

“Yes. I still don’t understand why you wanted a rose bush. We’re in the middle of a desert.” Your assistant mumbled.

“Double vision in a rose bush. An illusion… Because of the dessert. The beauty is an illusion?” You explained, rolling your eyes when you saw your assistant bite back a smile. “Shut up. Where’s this person?”

A small tap on your shoulder answered your question. “Looking for me?”

When you turned around you were met with the sight of a playful smirk on familiar lips. You squinted at her teasingly, hiding the surprise of seeing your girlfriend here. “Are you following me?”

“You’re the infamous photographer that this company was telling me about?” Taylor questioned back at you, feigning confusion.

You sent her a sarcastic smile. “No. I’m just an amateur that’s here to take pictures of you. I’m so nervous to be working with you!” You said mockingly.

Taylor groaned, the act falling away almost immediately. “That was a year ago. Before we even started dating! Are you ever going to let me live that down?”

“Hmm…” You pretended to think, your finger on your chin. “Nope.” You quipped back, popping your lips on the word.

You began walking away, smiling slightly when you saw Taylor fall into step beside you. “Maybe I’m nervous to work with you.” She said softly, taking your hand in her own and pressing a light kiss to the back of it. “After all, everybody wants you.”

“What a coincidence because I will only ever want you.” Before you reached the set-up, you turned to face her, pressing your forehead lightly against hers. “Tell me about something that makes you happy.”

Her soft breath fanned over your lips and the smile she sent you made your cheeks flush. “Well... She hates the sand but loves the beach. She practically lives on the coast she’s there so often. I sometimes need to call her out on her contrarian shit, but… I’ll never find a love as pure as her.” Her words were quiet, but sincere. Authentic. “Tell me about something you love.”

“She loves to sing to songs on the radio even if she doesn’t know the words, she dances like a goof when she’ s drunk, but she claims she doesn’t when she’s sober. Hmm… She steals my clothes.” Taylor giggled, and you couldn’t help but smile. “And more importantly, she’s also stolen my heart.” You mumbled, her lips connecting with yours almost as soon as the word left your mouth.

After a moment you pulled away, noticing your assistant walk up to you both. You turned to face her. “Never mind about what I said earlier. This beauty isn’t an illusion... and she never will be.”

That's all folks! And you all thought I couldn't write happy endings. Well, anyway, I hope you all enjoyed since this is fairly different from what I usually write.

Please let me know what you think because as always, thoughts and comments are always welcome!

P.s. Should I make a general tag list?

(P.p.s. if the Gerri stealers are reading this... rude.)

[star-mum]

Y'll already know, buckle up whores

I’m reading this on AO3 – mostly for comfort, tumblr’s post view is weird on the computer – but I just have to say that I LOVE the cover you make for the fanfics !!! theyre so fucking cute and aesthetically pleasing ! The ring is just absolutely gorgeous 🥺 and genuinely suits Gar so much 🥺

“You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in” cracks knuckles where is that piece of shit? “At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you” I really do hope his dead, I can’t remember the actual show but I think so (?)

“stopping your heart - but that was a risk he was more than willing to take” of course HE would be willing to take that risk !!!!

“You had no other options, after all” This makes me so angry, specially cause its just fucking reality, I think I could write an entire essay on how fucked the US healthcare system is

And not to say here things are perfect but WE DO HAVE A UNIVERSAL FREE HEALTH CARE!!! IT'S NOT PERFECT BUT IT'S THERE !! PEOPLE DON'T HAVE TO PAY FOR SHIT THEY NEED TO SURVIVE (i don't know much about Canada, which is where I think you’re from, based on context clues, but I'm pretty sure there is a free health care system there too, right?)

“Ah, Garfield, I’m glad I caught you” I don’t know why his name being Garfield is so funny to me, like “Gar Logan” as a full legal name, makes more sense to me, I could never seriously call him that

“You noticed a small tinge of pink come over his cheeks when he finally made eye contact with you” giggling, swinging my feet and twirling my hair

“That’s a really pretty name. It matches you” I love that Gar is actually a really good flirt, but he’s also his own worst enemy and will second guess himself at every opportunity

“some kind of very tall, very impressive multi-layered cake (apparently in celebration of your arrival” 🥺 everyone here is very sweet

“because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm” okay but I can't help picturing Gar and I infodumping about different horror movies to Rachel and Jason cause they know so little about it (Jason’s reasoning is obvious → but i personally headcanon Rachel’s adoptive mom didn't really let her watch anything that seemed too scary or dark, incase it triggered something in her or her powers)

“Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?” THIS IS WHAT I'M TALKING ABOUT !!!

“the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down” WOOOOW TWO CHALLENGERS APPROACH !!! I hope. they're. dead : )

“cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones” … why would you make me think about the implications?

“Instead, you scratched under his chin and he purred” 🥺🥺🥺🥺

“you would deny that you snuck a glance at him changing back into his clothes” MA’AM “you became obsessed with what you saw” considering the damage that photo of Ryan on set with no shirt + hoodie did to my psyche… very understandable, have a great day

“You felt slightly bad for Cliff - seeing as he sat with an empty plate in front of him” WHICH IS SO FUCKED !!!! LIKE IT FEELS LIKE RUBBING IT IN !!! WHY IS THERE A PLATE WHEN YOU KNOW HE CANT EAT !!!! 

“this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything” GO STINK, FUCK IT UP ! GO STINK, FUCK IT UP !!

“Gar put a hand on your lower back” am I touched starved, or is this the single most intimate, heart warming casual touch ever ??? “he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead” second most heart warming casual touch ever

“Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL” AAAAAAAAAAAAA YES HE WOULD, IMMEDIATELY !!!! “he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you”

“Later in the day, Doctor Caulder was carrying out his tests as promised” this entire section made me so fucking mad, I’m gonna spare the both of us from all my unsavory comments “That was the day Doctor Caulder decided to start keeping a tranq gun near the operating table” VELHO ASQUEROSO MALDITO !!!!! FILHA DA PUTA !!! okay that’s all you get KSKSKSK

“He set it up as a game” Yeah yeah, yoU KNOW WHAT WAS ALSO A GAME SET UP BY A CREEPY OLD MAN ??? it's Saw, I’m talking about the Saw movies (i’ve never seen them tho, but I think it was an old man right?)

“several golden retriever puppies frolicking in a field of grass” I love him, I love him so much “It was a very ‘cool guy’ moment” AAAAAA WHY IS HE SO CUTE???

“‘You have to concentrate more, Garfield’ Caulder scolded him” oh noooo the fucking Fun Police is here, must you ALWAYS drain all of the fun and happiness of those around you?

“You felt entirely confident in your answer as you wrote it down. A wedding” the greatest song, you’ll ever hear toniiiiight “Gar’s card, which said ‘WATER’” yeeEEEAAAAHHH

“fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead” I don't think I have the emotional maturity to play a game like this SKSKKS thing would either get ugly fast OR i’d just cry outta frustrating and give up on it forever (I'm also NOT GOOD AT VIDEO GAMES !! SADLY ;-; I KNOW)

“Back in your room at Titans Tower” Act 2 babies, less goooo

“You quickly realized that Gar was avoiding you” karma is my boyfriend apparently, but not in a fun way : (

“satirical comic of Dick’s Robin cape being propelled by a fart (that you labeled ‘pent up aggression’)” I got nothing if not my 5th grader sense of humor (specially if its at Dcik’s expense KSKSKS)

“If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!” I’m willing to side with him on this one, especially if US history is one of the categories KSKSKS cause I'm gonna need that excuse for my turns “Trivia is a test of memory” HE’S GOT A POINT !!!

“That’s not how it works, dickweed!” : O RACHEL ! (genuine irl reaction KSKSKS)

“you found yourself wandering to Rachel’s door” besties ! besties ! besties !

“Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?” feels like a trick question KSKSKS “ her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought” THAT one is on us, more context next time yep

“I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” NO TIME TO UNPACK, NOPE SKSKSKS LETS KEEP THAT BOX CLOSED FOR NOW

“Why, what did you see?” I don't think we have time to unpack that either… 

“What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly” I LIKE THAT !! Never heard it before either, but I LIKE IT !

“Thank you. That actually really helps” alright, bestie acquired ! you guys ready to rock n roll ?

“That’s what had been so prominently on his mind for the past few weeks” his mind suuuure, that's about half of it 

“You didn’t bother with socks or slippers” I’d rather die KSKSKKS SORRY TO BE SUCH A SOCK SNOB, BUT I WOULD RATHER DIE

“And he was quite a sight to behold… nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips” yeah 🥵🫣 

“He was pounding away…” hELLO “...at the heavy punching bag” oH

“slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants” dear lord

“It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag” and it’d be a damn crime to keep it contained

“If you came to train, don’t let me bother you. Apparently that’s all I am to you lately” WOOOOOOW ALRIGHT JESUS ♥️ HERE ! JUST KEEP IT, NOW THAT YOU FINISHED RIPPING IT OUT (not uncalled for but GODDAMN)

“Kiss it better” >:3 

“And after years of waiting - you pulled him into your lips” LESSSS GOOOOOO

“he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor” which is SIGNIFICANTLY DIFFICULT TO DO WITH BOTH OF THEM ON !! I always have to use my teeth on the first one 🙃

“Utmost” I'm embarrassed to say that genuinely I thought for years that it was UPmost (https://www.tiktok.com/@favclipsnewgirl/video/7128101049117789445 … what is an “ut”? Nick is right)

“Is this real?” WHAT “Are you forreal right now?” *Drew Barrymore voice* that’s not what you said (get it, like scream : D … i’ll leave)

“he used the strong hold of his arms” canonical super strength, I bow down to you 

“You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you” WELL– ONE OF US CAN SAY THAT (I’ve thought about it extensively)

“vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room” well lets hope Jason is the one on security room duty tonight and not Grayson 🫢

“canted his hips toward the mats, fruitlessly humping against the softness, seeking some kind of relief” dear… god

“He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’” this is another subject I could write an entire essay about… ooooohhhh ranking the titans from best to worst head (we must discuss this in length, I beg you please)

“Everything about you is perfect. Every inch of you is perfect” saving this one here too

“Deciding it was time to give in” I honestly would not know when to call it quits KSKSKSK

“I love your pussy so fucking much” simple but VERY effective

“You want me to fuck you?” listening to the audios i have bookarked on soundcloud and I shit you not THIS https://soundcloud.com/becksfx/lost-in-the-fire  started playing right as I read that line

“Eating you out had turned him on so much that he was leaking precum into his pants, quite a lot of it” at this point I just… okay “Show me” jesus christ

“Because… ya know… the carpet matches the drapes” I have a bit of dialogue planned regarding this on my self insert thing KSKSKS 

“his last ounces of self control to not lose it - to not pound into you like a careless sex doll” I’ll refrain from commenting again

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.” OKAY I HAVE THE FUCKING YN NAME CHANGER EXTENSION ON MY LAPTOP AND YOU DONT USE YN THAT OFTEN, I FORGOT IT WAS ON AND THIS HAD MY REAL LEGAL NAME ON IT !! I NEED YOU TO THINK ABOUT THE IMPLICATIONS NOW 

“You wanted to tempt that animal inside him - you wanted to see his rougher side” shes just like me fr fr

“you were tumbling once again through the thick curtain of reality and into his mind” eyy “My beautiful wife. Mine. Finally fucking mine. You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” OKAY ! ALRIGHT !IM GONNA NEED AN AMBULENCE PLEASE, SUNNY WOULD YOU BE SO KIND?

“‘I’m yours.’ You found yourself mouthing the words without even realizing it” 

“Please cum for me, Y/N.” Again. Startled at my own name : D

“Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you?” on all levels except physical, I am bonking their heads together “These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room” IM GONNA KILL THEM PLEASE !!!!

“ate your pussy like it was his fucking job” it is

“the tumor that still lived inside your brain did get to torture you occasionally” if i asked nicely enough, do you think.. No? Okay :)

“You need anything else?” “One thing” please dear god save me from this misery

“Don’t wanna just be friends. I love you. I have loved you for a long time now” THANK YOU !!! 

“‘We don’t get days off, Gar’ Dick pressed ‘” and you need to stop making yourself my enemy

“Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you?” he remains the worst, friendship with Grayson over, again… where’s Hank when you need him?

“‘Leave it, Grayson’ Gar’s voice growled” FUCK IT UP !! “and I won’t have you pushing her until she pukes on the floor just to satisfy your ego” now I have to give him head like it's my job (cause it is, also)

“It was the ring that Rita had given him before he left Caulder House” THE RING !!! “that he would use the polished emerald ring to propose to you” YEEEAHH

“In honor of Rita’s vision - he would make it old Hollywood, romantic” I hope so 🥺

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part Two: Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

Summary:

After having an argument with Gar that nearly ends your friendship, you decide to finally get over your fear of using your own powers and finally embrace them. If you do things just right, you could finally get everything that you (and Gar) have ever wanted.

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader. Best Friends to Lovers. Smut, (Slight) Angst and Fluff. Set during Season 2.

Word Count: 18,000

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

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List of detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: general emotional angst (due to the reader and Gar having emotional distance from having an argument at the end of the other chapter), (very light) canon level violence, mentions of medical experimentation/medical torture, the reader character has medical trauma from years of illness, mentions of medical debt, manipulation and emotional abuse (from Doctor Caulder toward Gar and the reader), mentions of burns/burn scarring, mention of the reader being abandoned by her parents, mentions of vomit (no graphic descriptions), the reader character has a seizure, (likely) improper first aid performed for a seizure, the reader has chronic illness/chronic pain, use of prescription medication, the reader is more feminine (wears lacy underwear), the reader has a vagina and uses she/her pronouns. 

This chapter contains smut - both dream fantasies and played out sexual acts. The reader character is mute but all consent is enthusiastic and clear, biting/marking kink, some dirty talk, semi-public sex (having sex in the communal area of a house - also, coincidentally, the sex fic I have read where characters have sex in a space that just happens to have a camera in it), scent kink, oral - reader receiving, multiple orgasms (reader receiving), (slight) overstimulation (reader receiving), hair pulling kink (Gar receiving), it’s implied that the reader and Gar are virgins but it’s not lingered on and it’s not a plot point of the fic, unprotected sex, creampie, penis in vagina sex, rough sex, (idk how to phrase it?) marriage kink/commitment kink, passionate sex/love making, Gar calls the reader ‘wife’ (in a fantasy sequence), some mentions of blood (the reader scratches Gar’s back and draws blood by accident), I believe that’s it. 

A/N: This turned out way longer than I intended. But I love it and I really hope that you guys do too!!

...

After the argument, you didn’t see Gar for the rest of the day. 

When Dick came in to check on your progress with training, he immediately questioned why Gar was missing. You made up a lame excuse about how he had been feeling sick (which had to be translated to Dick by Jason) and Dick complained that all of you had to learn to ‘work through’ things like illness, but at least he didn’t question why Gar had locked himself in his room for the rest of the night and didn’t come to dinner. 

After you had washed the dishes and sulked through the rest of your nightly routine, you considered knocking on Gar’s bedroom door before finally going to bed yourself - but you just couldn’t bring yourself to face him. 

You had truly hurt him, and you weren’t sure how you were going to recover from it. 

As you laid in bed that night, so strung up with guilt that you couldn’t sleep, you stared at the ceiling. Of course, all you could think about was Gar. 

You thought back to when you had first met him - going over those first days of your friendship in your mind. The undeniable way that the two of you were drawn so close together. In friendship or in that unutterable, constantly denied romance - the two of you were soulmates. 

And you had fucked it all up. 

You missed your best friend so badly. You wondered where it had all gone so wrong. 

… 

You felt lucky that Doctor Caulder had taken you in. 

Before him, before the serum, your last chance at moving out of the palliative care ward would have been offering your body as a live cadaver up for experiential treatment. It was something that might have put a dent in your medical debts, but it also would have meant a lot of pain and torture as your body was used as a trial for vastly experimental medicine and treatments - none of which were guaranteed to prolong your life as the deadly brain tumors grew to consume your brain, seemingly trapping you in a loop of pain and torture for those last few years that you had. 

At the time, Doctor Caulder was a savior to you. 

He used the money he had from his dense inherited wealth to pay off all of the medical debt you had acquired from your lifetime of illness, giving you only one very small catch in the face of this intense generosity. He wanted your consent to try out his serum on you, claiming that it would either do nothing to change your condition, or it would be the magical cure-all that you had been looking for. 

(He conveniently let out the fact that in your state of unwellness, with your weakened body, there was a large possibility that the serum could overwhelm your senses, stopping your heart - but that was a risk he was more than willing to take.) 

Honestly - while you didn’t believe him - you couldn’t bring yourself to turn him down. 

You had no other options, after all. 

After he injected you with the serum and you woke up with your sight fully restored, you were shocked. It had somehow shrunk down the tumor in your brain enough that it was no longer pressing on your optic nerve, and you could once again experience the world in full, glorious vision. 

It was something you were entirely excited by as you arrived at what would be your new home. Doctor Caulder had described it as a ‘vacuum of scientific advancement against the bureaucracy of the world’. Naturally, you had expected some kind of cold looking industrial building, another medical center that you would be trapped inside for years to come. 

You certainly hadn’t thought that it would be a sprawling, gorgeous Victorian mansion in the secluded, peaceful countryside. 

He brought you inside and set down your bag. You were too busy marveling at the details of the architecture, the stunning antique decorations, taking it all in after years of being deprived of sight to truly notice anyone else in the building at first. 

You didn’t notice anyone else there until Doctor Caulder spoke to him. 

“Ah, Garfield, I’m glad I caught you.” 

You turned at the sound of someone’s name being called. Caulder had warned you that you would be living with several other people - people who he had helped and was continuing to help with their ‘unique conditions’. 

When you looked over at him, the person that Doctor Caulder had called Garfield, the only truly unique thing you spotted about him was his bright green hair. That, and the fact that he was startlingly attractive. 

Garfield paused his footing halfway down the hallway as Doctor Caulder spoke to him. When he turned back around to give the man his attention, you noticed that he had a candy bar poking out of his mouth as he held it there between his teeth, and a pair of large headphones over his ears with some kind of handheld gaming system in his hands. He reached up and moved one half of the headphones off to the side when he realized his full attention was needed. Then he bit off the candy bar, moving to shove the rest of it, mostly still wrapped, into the pocket of his large green hoodie. 

“What’s up, Chief?” He asked, his mouth obviously stuck together by the candy and some chocolate slightly smeared on the side of his mouth. 

“Garfield, please don’t talk with your mouth full.” Caulder - apparently the Chief, quickly scolded him. 

You guessed that he found it rude because he was more uptight and proper, more old fashioned. But it was something that you easily found adorable and charming. 

Garfield hung his head in shame and made a clear effort to swallow, running his tongue over his teeth to somewhat clean his mouth before he spoke again. 

“Sorry.” He mumbled quietly. “Did you need something?” 

It was then that he really eyed you up and down, as though he had just noticed you standing there. 

You felt entirely out of place, but tried your best not to look nervous, and simply smiled as his eyes landed on your face. You noticed a small tinge of pink come over his cheeks when he finally made eye contact with you. His eyes made a quick jolt back to the carpet, obviously nervous and not wanting to linger on you. 

“I’m sure you’ve heard Cliff mention my newest patient.” Doctor Caulder told him, gently motioning toward you. “Y/N will be staying with us for the foreseeable future while I explore her condition and any affects the serum has had on her.” 

Garfield nodded at this. The wild tendrils of his green hair bobbed in a very adorable way with the motion, and you suppressed a giggle because of it. 

“I’ll need you to show her around and help her get settled in for now, because I need to go up to my office and work on some notes while everything is still fresh in my mind. I’d like not to be disturbed for the next few hours, is that clear?” Doctor Caulder ordered, his voice calm, but oddly stern. 

Garfield’s face twisted slightly into a frown, as though he was afraid of the possible consequences if he did disturb the man. But nonetheless, he nodded once again. 

“Understood.” He said simply. 

Doctor Caulder gave him a curt nod and then walked up the stairs, leaving you in the hands of your seemingly meek, very handsome tour guide. 

He stepped toward you, and then realized the game console was still beeping in his hands. So he pushed a few buttons, shutting it off, and then he shoved it into his pocket as well before he slid his large headphones to sit around his neck. 

“Hi, I’m Garfield. You probably heard that. But you can just call me Gar. I prefer it.” He rushed these words out in a puff of air, seemingly still very nervous to be in your presence. 

You nodded at this. Before you could communicate in any way that you wouldn’t really be ‘calling’ him anything because of your mutism, he let out a huff - something akin to a nervous laugh and steamed rolled right into more conversation. He didn’t really seem to mind your silence. 

“Y/N, right?” He posed, easily remembering your name from when Doctor Caulder had introduced you. 

You nodded once again, giving him a small smile. 

“That’s a really pretty name. It matches you. I mean- I-” He stumbled over his words, clearly nervous that he had unintentionally said something flirtatious. “I’m supposed to introduce you to everyone, right? Come on.” 

He then took you on a tour of the sprawling house, his chatter filling the air in a most perfect way. The more he talked, the more he seemed to gain confidence around you. He became filled with energy, fueled by the things he was saying. Especially when he spoke about the house and the daily life that he lived there, pointing out the different rooms and where you could make yourself comfortable. His words filled the space so well that he didn’t seem to notice the fact that you couldn’t talk. 

As he took you on the tour, you came across the different eclectic members of the household and Gar introduced you to them. And you very quickly came to realize what Doctor Caulder had meant by ‘unique conditions’. 

If you didn’t have your vision freshly restored in order to see it, you likely wouldn’t have believed it. But they were very real. 

Gar introduced you to Cliff - someone who looked more like a machine than a man, squeaky joints and all. But it quickly became apparent to you that he had a shining personality underneath all that metal, and his humanity wasn’t easily defined by something like rust and bolts. He was working on a half-disassembled car in the large garage, and Gar explained to you how the mostly mechanical man was an ex-racer who had gotten into a bad accident and been put back together by The Chief. 

He then introduced you to Larry - who was in the kitchen, baking some kind of very tall, very impressive multi-layered cake (apparently in celebration of your arrival). He made a comment about you ‘being rather quiet’ and you just shrugged. They would probably be amused later when they found out why. 

Larry didn’t want to comment much or explain the reason that his entire body was covered in bandages, and you understood why. In your mind, you assumed that he had been badly burned and the bandages covered some kind of scarring. The visual reminded you of people who had passed through the palliative care ward with severe burns over their bodies and didn’t survive long because of it. But he seemed to move without pain and he was obviously thriving, so whatever Doctor Caulder had done for him - it had worked. 

Gar tried to introduce you to the last member of the household - Rita - but when he knocked on her bedroom door, he was met with silence. He simply told you that she likely wasn’t feeling well. And that you understood deeply as well. 

The house tour extended down into the basement, because Gar was very excited to show you his room. You couldn’t bring yourself to disrupt his rolling speech or dampen down his swell of excitable energy. 

He was showing you some of his movie posters - something for a movie called Abbott and Costello Meet Frankenstein. It was a movie you had never heard of before, and you only found yourself truly paying attention in order to learn about it now because Gar spoke about it with so much enthusiasm. 

“-it’s considered one of the first examples of parody ever in cinema, an effort to take horror, something that truly terrified audiences at the time, and turn it comedic. Like shining a light on that monster under the bed so he’s no longer scary. It’s brilliant.” 

Gar rambled on, his breath almost entirely escaping him as his enthusiasm overpowered his lungs. 

You couldn’t help but to feel a swell of fondness as you looked at him. 

His passion was so intensely palpable, it gave you goosebumps. It was a very old film that you likely wouldn’t have taken an interest in. But the way he talked about it - like it was revolutionary, like it was the most interesting thing in the world. It made you want to watch it ten times just to get to know him better, just to have a small taste of the passion that he felt so epically for it. 

You didn’t know it then, but feeling his overwhelming enthusiasm spreading in the air was the beginnings of your very intense crush on him. It was the moment that you started falling for him. 

“You know originally, Lou Costello scoffed at the idea of even making-” Gar suddenly cut himself off, a look of dawning crossing his features. “Woah, I’ve been talking for such a long time, haven’t I?” 

Technically, yes. 

But you would have been perfectly content to stand there and listen to him talk for hours more about this film or any of the others related to posters that he had on the wall. His enthusiasm and the way it was backed up by factual knowledge made him endlessly interesting to listen to. 

In response, you simply shrugged. 

Yes, he had been talking for a long time. But - you enjoyed listening. His tone and the abrupt way he had cut himself off made it sound like he had burdened you with his ramblings, and you weren’t sure why. 

“Sorry.” He giggled, scratching the back of his neck nervously. “I’m probably being so annoying. I haven’t even let you talk about yourself at all. What - what kind of movies do you like?” 

He seemed nervous suddenly, as though he had become self conscious in the conversation. 

You filled with nerves as well, coming to the realization that you would now have to communicate to him that you couldn’t talk. 

You motioned toward your throat, hoping he would be able to see the scar from the surgery that had stolen your ability to speak so long ago. Rather than understanding, Gar’s face knit with confusion. 

“What, did the sea witch steal your voice?” He asked. The action reminded him a lot of that cartoon mermaid, desperately tapping on her throat, trying to explain to others why she couldn’t speak. “Do you need a kiss from a handsome prince to get it back?” 

The words escaped him before he could stop it - and then he realized that it sounded entirely more flirtatious than he intended. 

He bit his lip nervously and you let out a giggle. You became entirely overwhelmed by your own nerves, and your undeniable attraction toward him. If you were feeling at all bold, you might have leaned over and kissed him in that moment. But something in the back of your mind told you that it was rude - that he hadn’t truly meant it, that it was strange to come onto him so soon after meeting him. 

When the awkwardness swelled inside of him, he rushed to speak again. 

“Sorry,” He blurted out. “That was probably insensitive. If you’re really mute, that’s like a disability, and you shouldn’t make jokes about people’s disabilities-” 

You vigorously shook your head, meaning to tell him that ‘no, I liked the joke’. 

But his eyes instantly grew wide, believing that you were shaking your head negatively, believing that he was truly being insensitive and rude. 

You raised your hands and began explaining it in sign language, and he sighed in defeat. 

“I’m sorry.” He said. “I don’t - I don’t understand.” 

Then, a look of dawning came over his face so strong it was almost as if a cartoon lightbulb appeared over his head. He then rushed into the other room - there was some ripping of paper (what you didn’t know was him ripping pages he had used out of a notebook so that you wouldn’t see them). After a moment, he rushed back toward you, thrusting a notebook and a pen in your direction. 

You took it happily, and began writing. 

‘Yes, I am completely mute. Yes, it is technically a disability. And yes, I did think your joke about the sea witch was funny. But… I don’t think a kiss from a prince will fix me.’ 

You passed it to him and after he read it, he gave a small chuckle. 

“Yeah, that wasn’t so smooth on my part.” He said. “What happened? To your voice?” 

You explained it to him. You spent a long time passing the notebook back and forth, explaining things to him about yourself and your life. 

You told him how you had been ill for as long as you could remember, and it had only gotten worse as you progressed into your teen years. And eventually, the mounting medical debt became too stressful for your parents so they abandoned you and disappeared with no way for creditors to track them down. They had left you orphaned in the most cruel way. 

Gar’s eyes danced with tears when he read this. You didn’t know it then, but he vowed to himself that he would always be by your side. He would be the one person who never left you, no matter what happened in life that might try to draw the two of you apart. 

‘Can I ask you something?’ You scrawled out, passing the notebook to Gar with careful curiosity on your mind. 

“Yeah, anything.” He replied. 

‘Why are you here? What is Doctor Caulder helping you with?’ 

You were tempted to add on something about how he ‘looked normal’ - but you didn’t want to accidentally insult him. 

“My condition… it’s uh…” Gar stuttered through his attempt at an explanation, and confusion flooded your features. “It’s probably just easier if I show you?” 

You nodded in acknowledgement that you understood, and Gar put the notebook aside and stood from the couch where the two of you had been seated, talking for hours. 

“Would you - uh - would you mind closing your eyes for a second?” He asked, once again draped in that nervous energy. 

You hesitated for a second, but then complied. You weren’t sure how him ‘showing’ you would go if you had your eyes closed. But you trusted him to harness in that condition - whatever strange ability the serum had given and not let it hurt you. You felt safe around him even though you had only known him for a short time. And you wanted to make him comfortable rather than arguing about it. 

You were curious when you heard some gentle rustling, and you cringed slightly when you heard what sounded like the cracking of bones. You hoped that whatever he was doing, it didn’t cause him any pain. 

Your curiosity became too great and you opened your eyes when you heard a low rumbling. If you weren’t mistaken, it sounded like the purring of a very large cat. 

Shock instantly overtook you when you opened your eyes to see that standing in front of you in the middle of the carpet - rather than Gar - there was a very large tiger with bright green fur. When your sight had been restored, you never, ever thought that this would be one of the first things you would get to see. 

Your first instinct was to pull your feet up onto the couch, and the tiger - which you quickly had to reason was Gar, who had somehow shifted his body into a different form - hung his head in shame when he saw the fear overtake your body. You didn’t want to be afraid of him. You shouldn’t be, right? He had been nothing but kind to you since the two of you had met. He wouldn’t use this odd power to endanger you. 

When you looked into those large animal eyes, you saw nothing but kindness. And you couldn’t resist the urge to step off the couch and lean out, petting a hand gently under his furry chin. 

It was then that you were struck with the realization. The dream you had of being married to a large green tiger - it had likely meant something. 

But you couldn’t bring yourself to linger on it. 

Instead, you scratched under his chin and he purred, and you giggled at the fact that such a large, possibly terrifying animal was so docile under your touch. 

(When Gar transformed back, you would deny that you snuck a glance at him changing back into his clothes. And you would definitely deny that you became obsessed with what you saw.) 

… 

Later that night, you met Rita when she came down to join everyone for dinner. She was a lovely, sweet woman. She was actually the only person (aside from Doctor Caulder) at the table who understood your ASL, though she didn’t seem eager to explain where she had learned it. You knew that everyone in the house had somewhat of a painful past, so you didn’t bother to ask. 

The cake Larry had made turned out beautiful. A towering masterpiece that everyone had to purposefully crane their necks around as they spoke to each other. You couldn’t help but marvel in wonder at it and the rest of the amazing spread he had made. Gar told you that it really wasn’t that out of the ordinary, seeing as cooking was Larry’s favorite hobby. 

You felt slightly bad for Cliff - seeing as he sat with an empty plate in front of him. But he seemed to show up to the meal mostly out of habit, family obligation, and a slight curiosity to get to know you. So you tried your best to answer everyone’s questions and be welcoming to the new friendships. 

You enjoyed the meal well. Everything was delicious, and compared to the food you once ate on the ward - it was heaven. Everything seemed to be going perfectly. 

Larry cut the cake and made sure that you got the first slice - which you selected from the towering variety of many different flavors. He cited that he didn’t know what your favorite flavor was, so he made a good variety as insurance. The taste of lemon was sweet on your tongue and you were enjoying yourself - when one of the lights began flickering. 

It was just a few flashes above your head, just for a few moments, but it was enough to send a sharp pain shooting through the middle of your forehead and instantaneously cause a wave of nausea through your stomach. You dropped your fork onto your plate with a clatter, and everyone craned their necks around the towering cake to look at you. Gar immediately got up from his chair to rush to your side, wondering what was wrong. 

“Are you okay?” He asked quietly. 

Your senses were overwhelmed by dizziness, a horrid feeling that your eyes were churning inside of your skull. Sharp waves of pain radiated out from the middle of your forehead and seemingly caused the world to turn wildly underneath your feet. 

You didn’t know that the harsh unwellness was visible all over your face - from your unpleasant expression to the light layer of sweat that had so quickly formed over your skin. 

You shook your head, attempting to confirm to him that you were not okay. But this only caused the pain to worsen, and you held back a harsh gag, trying your hardest to keep the amazing dinner inside. 

“You need to lay down.” Gar said quietly. 

You felt safe under his touch and you let him guide you as he pulled out your chair. He put one hand around your back and used the other to take your hand as he helped you up and guided you away. You let your eyes fall closed against the harsh light as his hand came to rest on your waist, a calming comfort against the harsh pain throbbing through you. You let yourself lean on him for support as he did as promised - took you to lay down. 

You were partway up the stairs when a voice disrupted you. 

“Garfield.” 

Doctor Caulder called after him harshly, causing Gar to pause his movements. You leaned on the bannister and kept your eyes closed. You had to concentrate hard on willing yourself not to vomit while Gar was distracted with the conversation. 

“This is an important opportunity to study her condition, you should be taking her to-” Caulder began to argue against Gar’s actions, but he was cut off. 

“She needs to lay down.” Gar argued quietly. “She’s had a long day. She needs rest. You can do your studies tomorrow.” 

You didn’t know it, but this was the first time that Gar had ever gone against the man on anything. Doctor Caulder stood there in shock at Gar’s sudden shift in attitude while Gar put a hand on your lower back once again and helped you the rest of the way up the stairs. 

He helped you into bed and pulled the covers over you. And then he got a hot cloth to put on your forehead, and got a bucket to put beside the bed in case you did throw up. It was then that you knew you would never feel properly cared for again unless it came from him. 

When he thought that you weren’t paying attention, half sleepy and half drowned in the pain, he leaned down and laid a gentle, timid kiss on your forehead, right above the cloth. 

…

Later that night, after everyone had fallen asleep, Gar snuck out to town and picked up a book on ASL. He was especially careful that his teeth didn’t pierce any of the pages. 

He used the rest of the night to study, and he greeted you the next morning with a tray of gentle breakfast food (porridge, hopefully something that wouldn’t aggravate your upset stomach) and Advil. Despite the pain throbbing through your head, you broke into a beaming smile when he signed the words ‘good morning’ to you. 

It was then that you realized just how much you were going to have to suppress your feelings for him. 

… 

Later in the day, Doctor Caulder was carrying out his tests as promised. 

He had you in a different part of the basement - in an area that essentially looked like an operating room. Just seeing the tables and all the cold medical equipment triggered a lot of your fight or flight instincts, but you tried your hardest to remain calm. Especially because Gar was by your side, even though he likely could have been playing video games or doing something else a lot more fun. He told you that he would stay by you the entire time to make sure that you were comfortable. 

You tried to relax and trust the process. 

Doctor Caulder had adjusted the table, propping up the top of it so that it was much more like a chair. And he had wheeled in a large machine that consisted of a series of lightbulbs - something that turned out to be a strobe light, set to make specific patterns. He had taped several electrical probes to your head, ones connected to an EEG machine. Although he knew that this procedure was likely to trigger a seizure, he said that it was important for it to occur because your neurological problems were closely tied to your powers, and the areas of the brain that the serum had affected. He said that it was something important to measure - even if a seizure happened. 

“Just face forward, and keep looking into the light.” Doctor Caulder explained. “It will go through a series of flashing patterns. I need you to try your hardest to keep your eyes open, and stay focused. It’s important that we record your brain activity while this is happening without disruption.” 

You nodded in affirmation. You weren’t looking forward to the pain that it would cause considering that your head was still thumping with a migraine from the night before, but if he considered it necessary, you would do it. 

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gar asked. “How do you know this isn’t just gonna cause more harm?” 

He was standing beside the table, holding your hand, and you were entirely grateful for his presence there. 

He had seen the way you had reacted to a relatively dim chandelier bulb flickering at dinner the night before. He thought that this would be disastrous. 

“Garfield, if you continue to question me, then I’ll have to ask you to leave.” Doctor Caulder told him curtly. “You can’t keep disrupting the process like this. We need to move forward.” 

Doctor Caulder glared at Gar, giving him a moment to make his choice. To see if he was going to speak up and argue or remain quiet. Gar looked to you, wanting to see if you were truly okay with all of this. Nerves boiled in your stomach, but you feigned a smile, and squeezed his hand tighter, assuring him that you needed him there - right by your side. 

Gar then nodded at Doctor Caulder, who stood behind the machine with the lights and turned it on. Gar flinched hard against the lights as they began to flicker. He turned his head away and closed his eyes, but he kept a tight hold on your hand. 

Though it went against every screaming, pained nerve in your body, especially the ones pulsing through your head - you fought to keep your eyes open. Your carefully tuned hearing picked up on the scribbling needles of the EEG machine, Gar’s breathing. You could even hear the electricity sizzling in the bulbs as they went through three long flashes and then turned off. Three long flashes, and then off. 

You survived the first pattern well before it switched to two quick flashes and then a period of seemingly prolonged darkness - something that wasn’t any more than three whole seconds in reality. 

The moment that it switched to the intense, rapid strobing - you felt it. The tingling in your hands, the dizzying haze that said you were only moments away from having a seizure. 

You had no time to warn either of them, especially considering that this was the first seizure you had post-serum, and it had unexpected size effects. 

As your muscles became tight and your body began to violently seize, the house itself began to quake around you. It was as though the building were at the epicenter of a violent earthquake. Later, Doctor Caulder would come to the conclusion that your seizures now caused ‘rapid bursts of psychic energy’ to be released from you, completely uncontrolled by you. He realized that you would be needed to put on a high dose seizure medication to prevent any further incidents. 

In those moments, though, it was chaos. 

Between the shaking of the house underneath you and the unpredictable seizing of your muscles, you quickly rolled off the table. Gar easily caught you in a moment’s notice. Across the room, Doctor Caulder made a similar movement - reaching urgently to catch the EEG machine before it fell off of its own table. 

When the quaking stopped, and you were left quivering in Gar’s arms, he couldn’t help but to feel a rush of disappointment as he saw the obvious play out before his eyes - Doctor Caulder was far more eager to save his data, to preserve the research that you had given him than to actually take care of you - his patient who was clearly in need. 

“What was that?” Gar breathed out, looking from your unconscious face to the surrounding room. He didn’t think that it was a large coincidence that an earthquake had struck at the exact same time as your seizure and had lasted exactly as long. 

“I believe that her powers were responsible for that.” Doctor Caulder theorized. “We’ll likely have to do more research to fully comprehend it-” 

He abruptly cut off his own words when the scribbling needles of the EEG machine stopped. 

Gar began peeling the probes off your forehead and Doctor Caulder only looked up toward you when the EEG flatlined as it was disconnected. 

“Garfield, what do you think you’re doing?” Caulder barked at him. 

“We’re done right now.” Gar said, his voice choked off by his anger. “Clearly, this isn’t helping. She needs rest.” 

Gar resisted the urge to say more. He resisted the urge to berate Doctor Caulder for harming you. He resisted the urge to swear. He resisted the urge to threaten to run away with you - taking away Doctor Caulder’s precious source of research so that the two of you would never be seen again. 

He had no clue that his anger was so intense that it flared up in his eyes, threatened to invoke his transformation against his will. 

He felt calmer when he looked down at you, and petted a hand across your forehead. Although you were forced into unconsciousness because of the seizure, you looked peaceful and calm with your face so still, your eyes closed and your muscles finally relaxed. He hoped that you would feel better soon. 

That was the day Doctor Caulder decided to start keeping a tranq gun near the operating table. 

… 

Things were quiet for a few days after that. 

Doctor Caulder said that he needed time to go over the results of the EEG, and he didn’t want to induce anymore seizures in you for fear that it might bring down the house. So he did let you rest. 

But in the interim, he didn’t check up on you or attend to any of your medical needs. He locked himself in his office to contemplate the science of it all while Gar stuck by your side. He held the bucket and rubbed your back while you puked, he held a hot cloth to your forehead when you needed it. He held a spoon up to your lips to feed you because your hands were too weak after being rocked by such a harsh seizure. 

After a few days, you were almost thankful to Doctor Caulder for it. You and Gar were growing incredibly close so quickly because he refused to leave your side, and you had never felt so lucky to have someone like him in your life. 

You hesitated when Doctor Caulder called you into his office upstairs. 

He made a poor apology for the incident with the lights. He said that he was sorry for causing you pain, but it was ‘necessary’ to explore your condition, to map your brain and find out how the serum had affected you. 

He said that the next step would be further exploring your strange powers. The powers you had accidentally discovered while transitioning out of the hospital. When one of the nurses had been attending to you, you had looked into her eyes, and you couldn’t even fully identify the feeling at the time. But suddenly, you knew this shocking, painful information. One of the other patients on the ward who you had come to know as a friend wasn’t going to live much longer. And when you had asked the nurse about it, she had accused you of snooping, reading through files - because the information was supposed to be confidential. 

But Doctor Caulder - who had witnessed the conversation - easily saw it for what it truly was. An unnatural power given to you by his serum. 

He then called Gar into his office as well - someone you obviously trusted and could work well with. 

He set it up as a game. 

He had written down several things on flashcards. You and Gar would sit across from each other, and Gar would read one of the flashcards, fully capturing the idea in his mind. And then you would use your powers to try and push into his mind - figuring out what was on the card without him ever speaking a single word or giving any hints. 

As you sat across from him, preparing to begin, you were incredibly hesitant. 

‘Are you sure about this?’ 

You wrote this as a message to Gar on one of the blank index cards. They were intended for you to write the answers that you retrieved from his mind during the ‘game’. You intentionally held back with the message, not fully describing your worries. You wanted to ask if he was okay with you breaching the privacy of his mind, but you were worried about Doctor Caulder seeing it, because you knew the man didn’t like to be questioned. 

You flipped it around to show Gar, and he simply nodded after he read it. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Gar assured you with a smile. “It’s just a game, right?” He grinned. “It’ll be fun.” 

You didn’t quite think so. But you tried to take on his positive attitude. 

“Let’s begin.” Caulder said. He was standing behind Gar in a very imposing manner, reading the cards as well to ensure that he didn’t flub the answers just to please the Doctor. 

Gar picked up the first card and read it, and he concentrated on it for a moment, making sure that the idea was focused in his mind. He gave a small nod, and then looked up toward you, knowing that he had to make steady eye contact with you in order for you to use your powers. 

Pushing past your discomfort, you did as you had been instructed. You stared deep into those big beautiful brown eyes, and you purposefully breached the surface into his mind. The first thing you were met with was a rich visual of several golden retriever puppies frolicking in a field of grass, happily yipping and prancing around, almost tripping over their clumsy new feet. 

You soon withdrew - even though it was a happy scene that gave you joy, you knew that you had the answer. You had an unconscious grin on your face, and that easily made Gar giggle as you flipped over the message you had made to him and wrote down your answer on the other side. 

‘Puppies’

You lifted up the card and showed it to Doctor Caulder, who took a glance down at the card in Gar’s hand (which said ‘DOG’). He nodded at you, his stern face not flexing for a moment to show any sign of positivity. He picked up a clipboard from a small table on the chair beside Gar and began furiously scribbling. 

“Continue.” He said, not looking up from his fast paced notes. 

Gar looked down at the next card, took the same moment of concentration, and then looked back at you with a small grin on his face. 

This time, rather than feeling like you were committing some kind of crime or doing him a grand disservice, you looked into his eyes and pushed into his mind with a gleeful joy - as though the two of you were sharing a delightful secret. 

The next rich visual you saw featured Gar himself. He wore a pair of tight jeans and a leather jacket with some red tee shirt underneath, and he walked up to a red car - a very fancy, vintage looking car. He opened the door, got inside, and adjusted the mirror to look at himself before he stomped on the gas pedal and the car sped away with a screech. It was a very ‘cool guy’ moment, something that made you giggle because of the stereotypical absurdity of it. 

When you drifted back into the real world, you went to the next index card, and had more of a difficult time figuring out how to phrase your answer. 

You went with:

‘Driving a car?’ 

When you held it up to show Doctor Caulder, he checked Gar’s card, which simply said ‘CAR’. He frowned, and you thought that you had gotten the answer wrong. 

“You have to concentrate more, Garfield.” Caulder scolded him. 

Gar’s face dropped into a frown, and it made your chest twinge with sourness. You thought that a face as sweet as his should never have to frown. 

“You got it right.” He told you quietly, before flipping to the next one. 

You nodded. You hated the way that Caulder treated him. If you could scream at the man, you would. 

Gar waffled for a few moments, looking at the card with blank eyes before he then looked up at you. There was a slight glassiness swimming there that told you he was ready to cry, along with the hesitation of a quivering lip. You wanted to end the entire exercise and simply retreat to the basement to play video games with him, but you knew that Caulder likely wouldn’t let you get away with that. 

So you continued. 

You used your powers once again, purposefully entering Gar’s mind. 

You were surprised by the scene you were met with. 

It was a vision of you and Gar - it was almost like a beautiful painting, like a fantastic daydream. 

You were off in some grassy field, seemingly the same place the puppies had been. Lush greenery, boundless blue skies, warm sunshine that you could almost feel tingling against your skin. The two of you were holding hands - and the most peculiar thing that stuck out to you? 

Your attire. 

Gar was wearing a formal black suit with a green tie and a green vest to match his naturally wild green hair. You were wearing a long, lacy white dress that you couldn’t mistake for anything other than a wedding dress. There was a bundle of flowers looped around your head in a large crown, with a long, flowy lace veil going down your back, and a bundle of flowers in your free hand that wasn’t holding his. 

It was a wedding, a marriage. 

At the time, however foolish it was, you didn’t consider the scene to be any specific desire on Gar’s part. You simply thought that he was trying to communicate the idea - the concept to you. You thought that it was just part of the game. 

When you pulled yourself back to reality, you felt entirely confident in your answer as you wrote it down. 

‘A wedding’

When you flipped it over to show them, you were grinning proudly. 

Gar’s face immediately dropped - embarrassment clutched at his stomach and panic overtook him. Caulder sighed with annoyance as he looked at Gar’s card, which said ‘WATER’. 

Before any further discussion of it could be had, Gar dropped the cards and they scattered over the floor. He rushed out of the room, moving so swiftly that he was practically a blur. Doctor Caulder called after him, complaints wafting through the air. 

You didn’t care to listen to the man. You got up and chased him, almost tripping over your own feet to get to him. 

You caught him as he zipped up his jacket, clearly ready to escape out the basement door and go into town (something he told you he was not permitted to do, but often did anyway). You stepped right in front of his path. He sighed hard through his nose and tried to dodge you, and you stepped in front of him and kept blocking him. Eventually, he was forced to look up at you. 

It was then - when you saw the look of a truly kicked puppy spread across his features, naked embarrassment lingering in his eyes - that the truth clutched at your stomach. You got the sense that what you had seen was truly private. 

Part of you wanted to prod at him about his desires and ask why he had been thinking about that. But a larger part of you worried far more about the fact that you had upset him with the freakish invasion by your powers, and you wanted to remedy it. You wanted to save this amazing new friendship. 

With the index cards and pen still in your hand, you quickly wrote a message to him. 

‘I’m sorry.’ 

You wrote down, and then quickly flipped it to show him. 

“It’s fine.” He huffed, clearly eager to escape the conversation. 

Once again, he tried to dodge around you. 

Once again, you blocked his path. 

And then, you wrote down something else to show him.

‘It’s not fine. I shouldn’t use my powers on you like it’s a game.’ 

“The Chief needs to explore your abilities, right?” Gar sighed quietly. 

‘Not at your expense.’ You reasoned. 

Gar was silent when he came into this information - like this was the first time he had ever truly considered that the Chief’s methods were unethical. 

‘We should make a deal. I shouldn’t use my powers on you unless it’s an emergency. Your mind should be your private space. I don’t get to go poking around in there for fun.’ 

You scribbled this down with haste, feeling very emotional about it. Then you handed it to Gar. 

He gave a small smile and nodded after he read it. 

“That - uh - that sounds fair.” He said, chuckling nervously. “And we… we don’t have to talk about what you saw.” 

You both nodded and dissolved into giggles at this. And then, he took off his jacket, and fired up his X-Box so he could teach you how to play Cuphead to help the two of you forget about the whole thing. 

…

Back in your room at Titans Tower, so long after those first amazing days of your friendship with Gar - you fell asleep deep in thought about him. You couldn’t stop going over those early days in your mind. Thinking about all the intense kindness he had given you when the two of you had first met. 

Thinking about all of it truly made you realize how badly you had fucked up. You genuinely wondered if your friendship with him would ever have any chance at recovering from the cruelty you had shown him. 

You were genuinely stuck between a rock and a hard place. You thought that if you told him about the things that had happened - about the visions you had seen - even if you stressed to him that it had been by accident, then he would feel that you had violated his privacy. He would be wounded by you seeing into his mind and not reporting it to him right away. He would be upset that your powers had put a wedge between the two of you. And now, he was upset because you had stolen his secrets and you weren’t confiding any of yours in him. 

You were a bad friend. And you didn’t know how to make it up to him. 

You woke up the next day feeling like crap.  

You quickly realized that Gar was avoiding you. He did finally come out of his room because Dick banged on his bedroom door, demanding in a harsh voice that if his illness was really that serious, he needed to get it checked out. And Gar came out shoving a hoodie over his head saying that he was fine - while wearing the saddest expression you had seen over his face in a long time. 

When you placed a coffee cup down in front of him as a peace offering - dark roast filled one third with vegan marshmallow flavored creamer, just how he liked it - he distinctly ignored it. He didn’t even look at you as he got up from the breakfast bar stool, taking nothing more than a dry piece of toast for breakfast before he stormed off toward the training room. 

He placed himself in a secluded corner of the gym with his headphones blasting music, doing harsh pushups and pummeling the punching bag. He was making it very clear that he wanted to be left alone. And even when Dick called all four of you into another room for a verbal quiz on The Art of War (where you wrote down your answers on a white board) - Gar refused to make eye contact with you. 

Even when you drew a satirical comic of Dick’s Robin cape being propelled by a fart (that you labeled ‘pent up aggression’) - Gar’s face didn’t flinch from the hard stone it had been set into. It made Jason snort water out of his nose and caused Rachel to call you both ‘immature’. And it got you a verbal lashing from Dick and three weeks of washing the dishes - by hand. So not worth it considering that Gar hadn’t even cracked a smile. 

Gar’s cold indifference toward you rolled right into dinner. Gar didn’t flinch or try to take sides when Jason and Rachel broke into an argument about what had happened during game night. Jason brought up how stupid the concept of the game had been and he and Rachel began arguing about the rules. 

(“If I’ve never seen the movie before, I should get a new question!” 

“That’s not how it works, dickweed! Trivia is supposed to be difficult because you don’t know the answers!” 

“So not true. Trivia is a test of memory. How am I even supposed to remember the answer if I don’t know the damn source material?!”) 

The argument lasted long enough for you to finish your meal. 

When Dick realized they were debating who was the true loser of the bet you had made, he pointed out that regardless of any bets, you had to do the dishes as punishment for the dumb little drawing you had made. You didn’t care all that much as long as it got Jason and Rachel to shut up - but Jason was all too smug about it as he handed you his plate. Once you had finished cleaning up, something you found oddly calming, a nice distraction from the chaos of the last few days - you found yourself wandering to Rachel’s door. 

Much like you, she didn’t talk about her powers often. 

Especially not since she had been tricked into summoning her demon father to earth and then she had been forced to kill him because of what he did to all her friends - the people she considered family. But you knew that like you, she had some kind of capability to see into other people’s minds - to delve into their memories or walk the long, winding halls of their thoughts. You knew she might be the only other person on earth who might be able to understand what you were going through. Someone who could give you some kind of solid advice about it. 

After steeling yourself with a sharp breath, you raised your hand and knocked, waiting to see if she would even answer. The music that she was playing stopped, and after a moment, she opened the door, a look of surprise knitting over her features when her eyes fell upon you. 

“Y/N.” She greeted you in a quiet voice. “What is it?” 

‘I need to talk to you.’ You signed to her. You had some hope that she would understand what you meant, but her face was immediately overtaken with confusion. 

“I’m sorry - I.” She sighed, quickly cutting herself off, looking for the right words to explain it. “Between Dick’s whole list of mandatory reading stuff, and the sparring practice… I’ve been meaning to, but I haven’t had any time to study sign language,” 

She had genuine regret in her voice, which you could appreciate. 

You exhaled through your nose, a deep sigh. 

You gently pushed past her, inviting yourself into her room to settle in for the conversation. It did frustrate you that ASL wasn’t just a common language that was taught in schools, especially because it was psychologically proven that it was easy for toddlers to pick up on it with their brains being at a developmental age for it. It frustrated you that sometimes it was difficult for you to communicate with the people around you. But you tried not to let it get to you often. 

You got your cell phone out of your pocket, gesturing with it to let her know you would be texting her the things you needed to say. It was a simple, easy system. You invited yourself to sit on her bed, flopping back among the messy, unmade dark sheets as you carefully chose and typed out the words you needed to say. Rachel settled back into her desk chair, turning on her music once more, adjusting the volume to a low hum that settled into the background. You recognized it as the Arctic Monkeys and silently admired her taste in music. 

‘Have you ever accidentally seen something you regret?’ 

You sent the message. It took only a moment to race through cyberspace and you heard Rachel’s phone ping where it sat on the desk beside her. 

She picked up the phone and looked at your message. She then looked back at you with her eyebrows knitted tightly, a mixture of confusion and deep thought pulling them tight together. 

“Well there was that one time I accidentally walked into the bathroom when Jason forgot to lock the door-” She began. 

You cut her off with a raised hand and a pair of wide eyes glaring her down. 

You looked back to your phone and began typing another message, wanting to clarify what you meant. 

‘With your powers. Have you ever seen something with your powers that you didn’t want to see?’ You typed it out quickly, hitting send. 

Rachel read it over, placing her phone against her chin pensively as she contemplated the answer. 

“I… I don’t know.” Her voice was thick with thought. “I used to have these horrible nightmares. Almost every single night. And now I realize that those nightmares are what led me here. And I wouldn’t have been able to stop Trigon if I hadn’t seen those things.” 

Your throat tightened up. 

You and Rachel had never really talked like this before. You almost felt bad asking her for advice, knowing your problems were very different from hers. Quite pedestrian compared to the woes of somebody who had literally stopped the apocalypse and saved your life, and everyone else’s. You were worried about a school girl crush and she had the weight of the world on her shoulders. 

“Why, what did you see?” Her curiosity leaked through her lips. She had quickly connected the dots to realize that you wouldn’t be asking questions like this if you hadn’t seen something of significance. 

Naturally, you weren’t going to tell her the details. Not only because the things you had seen were incredibly graphic, revealing, and private, but because you did suspect that she had some kind of small crush on Gar. And you didn’t want to crush her small hope of being with him and make her upset. Especially considering you had seen what she could do when she was upset. 

You opened the one-way text conversation and thought for a moment, carefully contemplating what you would tell her. 

‘I saw something private. Something I probably wasn’t supposed to see.’ You sent the vague words, and she read them over quickly. 

“What, like a sex dream?” She posed. 

There was a laugh on the edge of her voice, as though she was only joking. But the accuracy of the comedic prod scared you. You wanted to change the topic quickly - before she truly sniffed out the truth. 

‘Doesn’t matter.’ You sent quickly. When she saw the three small bubbles pop up, indicating that you were typing more, she simply waited. ‘Have you ever felt weird acting on information you’ve gotten from your dreams? Doesn’t it feel like cheating the system? Like you should just shut up and pretend to be normal?’ 

Rachel sighed, a sharp breath that clung to the insides of her throat. She placed her phone down in her lap and leaned back in her desk chair, swaying slightly with the swivel of the rolling chair’s base. 

“I don’t think any of us can just pretend to be normal.” She noted quietly. 

Rachel’s words were calm and wise. It was something she had probably realized about herself a long time ago. It was a truth you had yet to fall to. You caught glimpses of the future in your dreams, you could see things about people they never dared to admit to themselves. You were in love with a man who could turn himself into a tiger at will, and yet, your heart still cried for something that resembled ‘normal’. 

Rachel saw it written all over your face - that warring. And more of that oddly aged wisdom came pouring from her lips before she could stop it. 

“What’s that saying?” She pondered aloud. “‘What’s normal for the spider is chaos for the fly.’” 

It was a saying you had never heard of before, but it was oddly comforting in those moments. The idea that ‘normal’ means something drastically different for everyone. 

When you didn’t say anything, didn’t pick up your phone to start typing, Rachel continued. 

“I mean, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be the spider, or the fly, but…” 

She trailed off for a moment, getting lost in thought. She looked up at you when she had found the proper words, her eyes filled with a steely determination. 

“Look, somehow, I saved Dawn from a coma.” She firmly reminded you. “She didn’t give me an open invitation to go poking around inside her brain, but she needed me. And I needed her. I know having the ability to see inside people’s minds can be weird. But you shouldn’t just go around pretending you can’t do it because you’re afraid you’ll hurt people’s feelings, or whatever. You could save their lives.” 

You knew the information you had obtained wasn’t exactly life saving, but she had a point. An excellent one. Maybe the reason your powers were acting up like this was because Gar was reaching out to you. Maybe it was because he had felt the same way about you for a long time now and he didn’t have the guts to tell you either. So unconsciously, he was reaching out, trying to show you his feelings so he wouldn’t have to risk getting hurt.  

‘Thank you. That actually really helps.’ You sent the message and gave her a smile, hopping off the bed and leaving the room once again. 

…  

You had some time to kill before going to talk to Gar. 

You really wanted to talk to him this time - truly wanted to conquer everything you had been holding back over these past few days. So you were hoping that everyone else would be in bed asleep so they couldn’t interrupt the two of you. 

You took up some of the time with a nice, long shower. Which was partially interrupted by Jason banging on the bathroom door, complaining about how long you were taking - once again. And you took your time getting ready afterwards. 

You did your hair neatly and smoothed nice smelling lotion all over your skin. Of course, the thought did occur to you that the ‘conversation’ could lead to you and Gar having sex. That’s what had been so prominently on his mind for the past few weeks. That thought likely did influence your decision to put on a pair of skimpy, cute lace underwear and forego wearing a bra underneath your pajamas. A thin matchy cotton tank top and shorts set. 

Your stomach was ripe with bubbles, absolutely full of air and anxiety as you sat on your bed, waiting for more time to pass. There was a book in your hand that you barely knew the name or contents of as you tried to kill more time. Your eyes flicked over to the clock. It was almost one in the morning. Surely you had waited long enough. 

You didn’t bother with socks or slippers, your cold feet eager and quiet on the floor as you sneaked your way to Gar’s room. You were surprised to find empty, his wide open door revealing a messy, unmade bed without him in it. You hovered in the doorway for a moment, almost losing your courage and going back to bed. 

But then your eyes landed on his nightstand. 

There was a wide picture frame holding the picture of him and his parents. And tucked into one of the outer creases of the frame’s wood was something else - two photobooth pictures of the two of you. The pictures were from the first time he had snuck you out of the house to take you to the arcade at the roller rink. You had taken the other two pictures off the set of four, and always kept them in whatever journal you were currently working on. 

Seeing the memento kept so close to him, so dear - it filled you with a fresh wave of confidence and desire. You turned around, determined to find him. Luckily, there weren’t that many places to check. 

The kitchen and living space were empty. The bathroom was empty and the doors to the security room were shut - meaning Dick was likely in there, researching something, occupied. The only other place to check was the training room. 

Gar was in there, putting himself through another rigorous training routine. Clearly he couldn’t sleep with the fight the two of you had still weighing on his mind. And he was quite a sight to behold. 

He was shirtless, wearing nothing but a pair of black boxing gloves and black sweatpants that hung dangerously low on his hips. He was pounding away at the heavy punching bag, clearly trying to take out some of the frustrations that you had caused to run ramped inside of him. He was aglow with sweat, the tips of his green hair hanging down in his eyes, sticking to his forehead. His tight abs were slick and shiny in the light in a way that made you want to lick your lips. 

His attire easily revealed the delicious cut V of his hips and even a slight bit of pubic hair where he hadn’t properly tied up his sweatpants, and they were beginning to slip slightly due to his activity. You could see a rather impressive bulge, signifying that he was definitely not wearing any underwear. It swung around freely as he worked, punching hard at the weight bag. You had to force yourself not to become distracted by the movement of that mighty snake inside his pants - especially now that you knew what it felt like against you when it was throbbing and hard. 

He either hadn’t noticed your presence yet or didn’t care to interrupt his workout to acknowledge you.

“If you came to train, don’t let me bother you.” 

Gar huffed quietly when he finally paused his movements for a moment. He sounded so entirely wounded, and the words caused pain to radiate through your chest. He leaned down to pick up his water bottle between the two clunky foam gloves without taking them off. He took a large gulp from it while he not-so-subtly eyed you through his peripheral vision, clearly waiting for your reaction. 

“Apparently that’s all I am to you lately.” 

He added on after he swallowed the water, deadly quiet. His words were barely louder than the metal creaking as the punching bag continued to swing from the residual momentum. But you heard him absolutely clear. 

The sentiment weighed on your heart like a pound of bricks. 

You knew there were no words to explain it to him. You knew he would still be angered at you for using your powers on him without permission, even if it was by mistake. You couldn’t explain how it had been a mistake, how it had only been with him. You still didn’t know exactly why or how it had happened. 

After he gulped down a healthy dose of water, he tossed the bottle aside and rose to his full height. For the first time all day, he finally cast his attention over toward you. His face was set with one of the most sullen expressions you had ever seen. You hadn’t seen him this upset since he had attacked that man back at the asylum. Every bit a kicked puppy, as you looked at him, you tried to find the right words, but came up empty. You almost turned to walk away, almost burned dry of the courage you needed to face this. 

But with Rachel’s words still ringing in your ears, you looked into his glassy eyes, and for the first time in a long time - you pushed into the quiet realm of his mind purposefully. You needed to dig to find something that would help you. Something that could remind you of how perfect you were with Gar. 

You were surrounded once again by the thick, plush world of his own imagination. 

Even if it wasn’t that different from the world you lived in. 

The two of you were in the training room, with him wearing a blindfold as you practiced the unorthodox drill that was assigned to you. You got in a few good hits with the practice sword in your hands, and ultimately tackled him to the ground. 

The two of you ended up in a position that wasn’t too different from the reality of the day before. Though it was playful and light, rather than hypersexual and startled. 

You pinned him down with your thighs on either side of his waist, your hips sitting dangerously above his. Your body weight was balanced partially on your knees and partially on him. You held your wooden sword to his throat, poised in a threat you would never carry out against him. 

He swallowed hard, his throat muscles jerking underneath the wood. You knew it was more because of the rising heat your compromising position was causing him and not because he was actually afraid of you. Or perhaps him being just a tiny bit afraid of you turned him on that little bit more. 

You let out a laugh as you tossed the sword away, leaning in to take off his blindfold and give him a kiss on the cheek. 

“What was that for?” He asked, regarding the unique new affection you had never really shown him before. 

‘Kiss it better.’ You signed, before leaving in and leaving a deeper, more heated kiss fully on his mouth. 

You forced yourself out of the thick, hazy daydream then. 

This was the answer. No words would be able to fix this - you needed to kiss it better. 

‘Kiss it better.’ 

You repeated this to yourself in the real world, confirming it as the truth. 

Gar read the signs you performed and - out of context - it draped him in hopeful confusion. 

He continued to stare you down with that delicately confused look enveloping his features as you marched across the room toward him, your steps over the cushioned mats of the floor filled with pure determination. 

He wondered if he had read your signing wrong, or if you were really planning to kiss him. Part of him thought you were going to hit him, or finally flip out on him for whatever perceived crime he had committed. And when you did it - he could hardly believe that it was truly, finally happening. That it wasn’t some dream. 

You reached up and grabbed him by both sides of his sweat damped head. And after years of waiting - you pulled him into your lips. 

Without hesitation, going on the pure fire in your belly, you kissed him. 

You channeled every ounce of raw need that had built up since the first time he had sucked you into a daydream where he so ferociously kissed you. His shock was evident at first. His whole body went stiff under your touch, which almost caused you to pull away. But a small moan rang out from the back of his throat - something that made you instantly dizzy with need. It made your lips seek out his with even more force, making your grip on his head clamp down as if to not let him escape. 

He began to kiss you back with just as much ferocity as he had in his dreams - echoing out another moan as he truly appreciated the taste of your lips. 

You felt him move but you didn’t open your eyes to look. You heard the tearing of velcro as you gnashed your teeth across his top lip and then latched onto the bottom one. Behind your back, he was taking off the boxing gloves, throwing them somewhere on the floor with a careless, quiet thump. Then his arms were around you, snaking around your waist. His flat palms went up the back of your shirt like impossibly hot magnets and pulled your body to his. He closed the small gap you had left for fear of being rejected - he welcomed you into his world with the utmost sincerity. 

Your shirt stuck to him because of the sweat he had worked up, and you wanted it off immediately. You wanted all your clothes off. You wanted to feel the naked rawness of the bulge you could feel swelling against your hip. But for now, you were too distracted by the other sensations he drowned you in to even consider pulling away to strip down. 

You were too caught up in the wicked work his tongue was doing as it snaked past your lips. You were obsessed with the loving way his hands held you. You lavished in the heat of his body as it radiated out against you like a wildfire. One of his hands was sprawled out in the middle of your back underneath your shirt. The other cupping the back of your head like you were the most beautiful, delicate doll he had ever had the pleasure of holding in his life. 

Eventually, both of you were forced to pull away from the kiss - succumbing to that formidable human breath. 

“Is this real?” 

Gar said quietly, seemingly almost more to himself as he pulled away from your lips. 

You opened your eyes, running a hand down to gently cup his cheek. He felt your gaze on him and opened his eyes. For the first time in days, he stared into your eyes so intimately and the dream became real. 

“Are you forreal right now?” 

These words were a bit louder. 

Not loud enough to break the sacred bubble of hot mingled breaths, spit, and sweat you had created. He wouldn’t dare do anything to shatter this if it was just another sleepy fantasy. But even if it was a fantasy, he still wanted to ask for your consent. That much you realized. 

Hesitantly, you tore your hands away from his glistening, flushed skin to formulate your reply. 

‘I want you.’ You told him simply. 

Without another moment of hesitance, he used the strong hold of his arms around your torso to take you to the ground. 

You wrapped your legs around him upon instinct. Your arms came up to clasp around the back of his neck as your ankles fumbled somewhere on his back. The action unintentionally drew your hot centers closer together. 

Gar bringing you down elicited a surprised squeak from you, which staved off into light laughter as your back met the mats. The laughter was easily echoed by him, deep and hardy. The sound turned into a playful, pleasurable growl into your neck as he ran his teeth along the skin there, nipping, marking his territory. You didn’t think his growling would ever be so sexy to you - but fuck, the noise ran a shock up your spine. It made your pussy clench around nothing and sent a wave of wetness into your underwear. 

This was going to be fun. 

“You have no fucking idea how long I’ve wanted this.” 

Gar grunted into your neck, his voice already deepened by the cloud of his lust. His tongue licked a hot path down your skin into your cleavage. His hands ran down your sides to grip your hips through your shorts, his touch feeling blazen through the material. 

“Wanted you.” He groaned, sounding so lust-drunk already. “You’re so fucking perfect.” 

You had some idea. 

But just hearing him say it, feeling the words vibrate against your skin made you moan for him. It made your fingers dig into the flesh of his shoulder blades. You were desperate for some kind of anchor on the plane of reality to assure yourself that you weren’t lost in the depth of another beautiful dream. 

You were vaguely aware of the fact that there was probably a camera somewhere in the room. Maybe multiple cameras seeing what Dick’s personality was like. Hell, Batman was the one who had designed and built the place and Dick was only teaching you guys what he had been taught. He probably used the footage of you guys training to review your weaknesses so he could make you better - build better soldiers. 

But all those thoughts melted out of your mind the moment that Gar lifted up your shirt. He continued the wet trail with his tongue down the middle of your stomach, stopping once and a while to make sloppy kisses against your skin. You knew exactly what his intentions were when his hands curled into the waistband of your shorts and underwear all at once. 

Your legs fell limp as he started to pull them off. 

A fresh wave of heat surged through you, making you absolutely drunk as he tossed your clothes behind him. He poised himself between your bent knees, kissing up your thigh with a tight hold on it, holding himself up with the other hand. 

“You smell so fucking good.” He growled out, low, heavy under his breath. You moaned out, only getting drunker with his words. “Fuck, I can’t wait to taste you.” 

You didn’t have a moment to sign to him, to give him some kind of encouragement or permission before he was diving in. He got low on his knees, wrapping both his hands possessively around your thighs. He leaned some of his weight on his elbows and from what you could see - canted his hips toward the mats, fruitlessly humping against the softness, seeking some kind of relief. 

He used his hands to spread your legs - not that it was much of an effort. Your legs practically fell open at his touch. You whimpered hard in the back of your throat as you felt his breath fanning out over your wet pussy. A heavy moan swelled on your tongue when he licked a broad stripe across you from your hole to your throbbing clit. 

“Shit, you taste so fucking good.” 

He hoisted your legs over his shoulders so your feet rested comfortably on his back, laying so he was more flat on his stomach, clearly getting comfortable. He laid a few tender kisses on the inside of your thigh. Then he looked up at you with dark, ferocious eyes. 

“Just, ah… smack me on the head if you want me to stop, okay?” Gar told you. 

Clearly, he was saying this for your safety - putting in a failsafe in case you changed your mind or became overwhelmed. But it came off as a sharp, pleasant warning of what was to come. 

Your pussy throbbed and you only ached for him to hurry up, biting your lip as you looked down at him. You nodded briskly, communicating that you understood his words. You had a feeling you most certainly wouldn’t want him to stop. 

Gar’s fingers dug into the tenderness of your thighs as he ducked his head down, latching onto your swollen, needy flesh. He soon brought a whole new definition to the words ‘eating pussy’. Like with everything he did in life, he did with the utmost enthusiasm and passion. He lapped at you, put his beautiful pink lips around you and sucked. He kissed your pussy just as passionately and wholly as he had your mouth. 

He shoved his tongue between your folds and dragged it in long, languid strokes. Clearly he was eager to lap up every last bit of your essence that he could - eager to devour you. He moaned into your pussy, moaned just as loudly as if he were the one being pleasured. It made the vibrations of his tongue on your clit even more deadly. Your hands were on his hair in a minute, both of them grabbing up as much of the gorgeous green as you could and holding tight. The action pulled a rumble from deep in his chest as he was satisfied by the pleasant pain of you tugging at his roots.

“You’re so fucking good.” 

He moaned into you, and you echoed back a high pitched noise that you hardly recognized as your own. 

“Everything about you is perfect. Every inch of you is perfect.” 

His grip around your thighs became even more possessive, his fingers digging into you hard enough to leave marks. Your lust clouded brain couldn’t clock the pain. You could only enjoy the view of his gorgeous hands gripping your skin. He labored over your clit, determined to make you cum. He flicked his tongue hard and fast over your clit as his hot breath fanned over you in quick, lustful pants. The orgasm washed over you so suddenly, a rubber band snapped from his actions. The tension had been built up over weeks of him living inside your mind, torturing you through lustful dreams.  

Your back arched, every muscle in your body pulled tight. Your thighs quivered and spasmed around his head as he continued to grip them hard. Your mouth became a mess of foreign noises that sounded daft and dumb to you but were absolute music to Gar’s ears. 

He chased you hard the whole way through it, shoving his tongue deep inside your throbbing cunt so he wouldn’t miss a single drop of your juices as they flowed out of you. You thought perhaps he might come up for air when your orgasm subsided. The aftershocks were still shaking your thighs, one of your hands falling to lull by your side, the other petting fondly through Gar’s now even messier hair. But it seemed you were wrong. He was just getting started. 

He growled with a feral hunger, the noise making your hips jolt, unintentionally canting toward his face as a whimper fluttered from your lips. He lapped at you in a drunken, lazy way for a few moments before he went back to eating your pussy with a renewed kind of starvation. 

Nipping at your swollen pussy lips in a way that made your entire body jolt, forcing his tongue inside you and fucking you with it while his nose bumped at your thrumming clit. Your second orgasm built up so quickly on top of the first. Your fingers curled in his hair as an unspoken signal to it. The feeling of your nails digging into his scalp only driving him to makeout with your cunt with an even deeper desire. 

He soaked up your practically pornographic moans with reverence. The wear and tear on your extremely damaged vocal cords began to hurt your throat, but the noises were absolutely unstoppable as they poured from your lips. His talented tongue was forcefully driving the moans and whimpers from you. He loved the feeling of your fingers ripping at his hair, leaving a pleasant sting across his scalp. He didn’t let up at all as your second orgasm plowed through you. 

He wasn’t satisfied even as your voice was echoing the wrecked, harsh moans of a third. 

He had you panting, your lungs struggling for air. Your muscles twitching with the excess of adrenaline and electricity. You whimpered pathetically as he tongued over your intensely sensitive clit again. Deciding it was time to give in, you reached over and tapped him gently on the top of the head. 

He looked up at you with those beautiful, wide brown eyes. This time not a lick of innocence or confusion anywhere to be seen - his irises completely overtaken with a deep, primal lust. 

You crooked your finger at him, motioning for him to come back towards your face. He kissed the inside of your thigh a few more times. He unintentionally smeared your sticky wetness, which had gathered on his lips in a heady, thick coating, across your skin. 

“I love your pussy so fucking much.” He murmured into your skin. 

Hearing him spout such filthy words without shame sent another wave of heat rolling through your belly. You had no idea how you were still so needy after cumming so many times, but Gar had easily done that to you. 

You reached over and gently tugged on his hair again, bringing his attention back to you. You suddenly became very aware of the fact that you knew exactly what you wanted, but you didn’t know how to ask for it. Surely, there had to be a sign in ASL for intercourse - but you just didn’t know what it was. You had never felt the need to look it up before now. You decided to improv, knowing that Gar would get the meaning either way. He always understood when it came to you. 

You raised your hands, making a partially closed fist with one hand and sticking your finger into it. You knew that it was probably a rather juvenile motion. To make your point perfectly clear, you mouthed the words ‘fuck me’ in an exaggerated way, hoping it would be easy enough for him to pick up on. 

“You want me to fuck you?” 

He gently shucked your legs off his shoulders, sitting up on his knees. He wiped your essence off his mouth with the palm of his hand, a delighted, surprised expression falling over his features. 

You nodded swiftly, enthusiasm spreading across your face, biting your lip as you could barely contain a giddy smile. 

“I mean, I don’t have a condom or anything… should I go find one?” 

He moved slightly as if to get up and leave you, but you were quick to trap him, hooking your knees around his thighs and squeezing tight. This touch was a good enough signal to bring his attention back to you. 

‘Don’t worry about it.’ You signed to him, firm and final. 

He clearly wanted to question you, but there was something heavy dancing in your eyes, and he didn’t want to ruin the moment by pushing it. 

(You were infertile. Just another thing your illness had taken from you. If it meant this moment with Gar would be a bit more worry-free, then you’d take it. If it meant he would break up with you down the road because he wanted kids that you couldn’t have… then you’d just enjoy the time with him that you were given.)

“Okay.” He breathed quietly. 

Your attention shifted dramatically when his hand moved to adjust his cock in his pants, which was straining harshly through the fabric. It was a long, thick outline like a shadow beaming out from the black fabric, with a damp spot at the tip. Fuck. 

Eating you out had turned him on so much that he was leaking precum into his pants, quite a lot of it. You latched onto your bottom lip at the sight of it. You couldn’t help but to outright stare now that you were allowed to look - lavishing your eyes over the thick, magnetic outline of his beautiful cock. His hand gripped it once more, adjusting himself, trying to make his throbbing cock more comfortable where it strained against the fabric. It made the sight even hotter somehow, and your eyes jumped up to his to see the almost shy look on his face. Even after what he’d done, he was shy about you staring at his bulge. 

‘Show me.’ 

You egged him on, trying to be encouraging. You wanted to play up the obvious desire that you knew was prominent on your face by pouting your lips and batting your eyelashes for him. He raised his hand to the edge of his pants, but his muscles strained, hesitant still. 

As a show of good faith, you sat up slightly, peeling off your tank top, which was now stuck to you with sweat. Your skin appreciated the cool air of the room, and your ego preened at the way Gar’s eyes devoured the newly revealed skin. 

He let out a harsh breath before he stood up on the spot and took his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles and kicking them away. 

“I thought you might laugh at me.” He said quietly, insecurity racking his voice. “Because… ya know… the carpet matches the drapes.” 

Laughing was the last thing you were thinking about doing. 

As you laid there, propped up by your elbows, staring at him, your mind could only focus on how entirely fantastic he looked. His body was so perfect, his muscles built, building up more each day with the training. His whole body covered in perfect, smooth skin, surrounding a gorgeous, filthy prize that you had only dreamed about being this amazing in real life. 

His cock sprang out from a nest of green pubic hair - which yes, ‘the carpet does match the drapes’. But you found that to be nothing to laugh at. There was absolutely nothing laughable about the gorgeous, nine inch monster that stood proudly in front of you - smooth skin covering hardened, gorgeous flesh just like the rest of him. With a drooling, bright pink tip just ready for your lips to be wrapped around it. 

‘Why would I ever laugh at such a beautiful prize?’ You told him, assuring him that you held nothing but admiration and lust for his body. 

A light dusting of pink came over his cheeks, absolute flattery from your words. He dropped down to his knees once again. His cock bobbed so deliciously as he moved, and you knew that would be so whipped by the ability to have it. When Gar realized the power he could hold over you with sex - you would be done for. 

“Jason thought it was pretty funny.” He shrugged, his voice gruff with the memory of it. 

‘Jason is a clown.’ You assured him. 

The conversation was cast aside when he gripped your ankles, playfully tugging you across the mats toward him - something that caused more giggles to erupt from your throat. 

Then, he was hovering over you on his hands and knees once again. With one hand beside your head, the other came over to grasp your chin with two fingers. It was so light and careful compared to his previous touches. He peered down into your eyes, making your stomach seize up with the sheer amount of love and affection he stared you down with. 

If you didn’t feel the same way for him, you might have backed down from the towering might of his feelings. You might have been tempted to run from something so divinely grand and beautiful. But no - you wanted to be his. You wanted to make him yours. 

‘Take me.’ You mouthed. 

Your hands were numb and useless at your sides. Your body was stilled by the cosmic depths of his affection, hoping your silent lips alone would be enough. 

Gar leaned down and swept your mouth into a kiss. His thumb on your chin rubbed sweet circles on your skin as his lips smoothed into yours. Your tongue reached out to eagerly dive into the cavern of his mouth. Soon his touch was gone from your face as your hands woke up to find him, to reach out for the perfection of his body. 

You eagerly sought out to touch his arms, his back, his ass, anything you could reach. He used his hand to hoist your knee gently over his thigh, opening you up to him. Then he poised his cock perfectly at your hot, leaking entrance. 

“You sure about this?” He breathed across your cheek, pulling away from the kiss to ensure your consent one last time. 

You nodded with the most frantic posture you could muster, impatient breaths spilling from your nostrils and pouring across his clammy skin. 

Satisfied with this, he rolled his hips forward. Finally, after weeks - no, years - of waiting in quiet agitation for him, you became complete. 

Even with his massive size, his cock slid easily inside you. 

Your pussy was readied by the many orgasms he gave you, your muscles relaxed and naturally slicked up for him. He fit perfectly like he belonged there, your hot inner walls pulling him in. Your hot cunt clung to his cock in a way that made him groan deeply into your neck. The feeling made his buttocks tense as he pulled together his last ounces of self control to not lose it - to not pound into you like a careless sex doll. You were perfect, and you deserved to be treated perfectly. 

“Fuck, you feel so good around my cock.” 

He groaned, leaning down on his elbows. He trapped you completely in his warmth, pressing his body firmly into yours from chest to chest to where he was smothered deep inside you. 

“You’re so fucking perfect. Fuck, Y/N.” 

You dug your nails into the muscles of his back - hearing your name on his lips with such a gravelly desire making your pussy squeeze around him. After a few restrained moments, he finally pulled his hips back and began to move. It started off as a slow, deliberate grind, a slow drag of his hips into yours, but it quickly became unhinged. Not that you minded one bit. You wanted to tempt that animal inside him - you wanted to see his rougher side.  

The sloppy sound of skin slapping against skin echoed through the room as he hammered his hips into yours. The sounds almost completely drowning out the quiet wave of your pathetic whimpers and his possessive growls. He tried to trap the sounds in the skin of your neck, while gnawing mindlessly at your skin, sure to leave some kind of mark on you. 

He was impossibly heavy and hot inside you, hitting all the best spots. His cock drove more electricity into your nerve endings and absolutely milked you for everything you could give. His knees pinned open your thighs where they jolted and jumped, your body so overstimulated from your previous orgasms that they wanted to clamp shut on his hips to keep him from moving. Your unconscious wanted to pin him down and hold him there - wanted to hold him inside you so that you could feel so impossibly full forever. 

And then, just as you felt another orgasm coming to form like a screeching fire in your belly, he dared to raise his head from your neck, dared to look into your eyes. 

Before you knew it, you were tumbling once again through the thick curtain of reality and into his mind. You were pulled against your will into another one of his fantasies. 

In the fantasy, you were on your back, still, completely naked. You were slicked with a sheen of sweat with his thick, pulsing cock deep inside you. But this was slightly different. The material under your back was most certainly a mattress - plush, more giving than the stiffness of the padded floor of the training room. It had an almost too soft layer of silk sheets covering it that your skin stuck to unpleasantly with the sweat. 

Your hands were poised on Gar’s chest, your nails digging into the skin there, leaving light marks. One of the things that stood out most to you about this picture was not the fact that Gar was having a fantasy about fucking you, but the ring on your finger. Seeing as this was his mind, he was the one who had put it there. Quite clearly a wedding ring or an engagement ring. It was beautifully ornate, poised on the correct finger for marriage. It held a bright green stone in the middle - green like a certain someone special to you. 

“Fuck, I love you so much.” 

Dream Gar moaned as he pounded into you, his hips taking on a sloppy rhythm as his orgasm drew near. 

“My beautiful wife. Mine. Finally fucking mine. You’ve always been mine, haven’t you?” 

‘I’m yours.’ 

You found yourself mouthing the words without even realizing it, whipped out of the fantasy world so harshly once again. A very small part of your mind wondered if it had been a small slice of the future that you had seen or if it was simply a conjuring from Gar’s imagination. 

You didn’t have the time to think or care, because your body went into overdrive. The Real Gar’s forehead was now resting on your tits. His hands created a tight grip on your hips as he pounded into you harder, harsher, deep grunts spewing from his lips each time his cock settled back inside you. 

“Please cum for me, Y/N.” His words came out as a whining beg, something so wonderfully small from the man splitting you open on his cock. 

He kissed between your breasts, his thumb coming to rub harsh circles on your clit, sending jolts right through you. 

“Cum on my cock. Please.” 

With the vision still hot on your mind and his words searing through you, the orgasm tore you up like a rabid animal. It was like nothing else you had ever felt in your life - like your entire body was on fire, being entirely consumed by Gar, by his touch, by his love for you. Finally being owned by him, finally having the one thing you wanted, needed most. Finally having him, full and whole. 

You screamed so loudly it hurt your throat, something you knew you’d be feeling for days afterward. Your whole body shook around him while your eyes screwed shut, your head tilting backwards as the pleasure was exorcized from you. 

You felt a hot dampness under your fingertips that you recognized as blood. In the back of your mind, you realized that you had gripped him hard enough for your nails to cut him - but he didn’t seem to care. In fact, it only spurred him on more, if the deep, ferocious grunts pouring from his lips were any indication. He was absolutely wild as he chased his own orgasm, breath fanning out in hot grunts against your breasts as he bucked wildly into your spent, tired hips, making your muscles twitch with bitter overstimulation. 

“Fuck! Y/N!” He cried out as he came, finally spilling his thick, hot cum inside you. 

You let out a small moan at the feeling. It became even hotter when you felt his cum pooling around the base of his cock, where you were connected, and leaking down between your cheeks. He lingered inside you for a few moments, petting his hands up and down your sides while your hands laid numbly on his back. He pecked small, delicate kisses across your clavicle that were almost an irony to the whole interaction. It made you smile. 

You were quickly falling tired from the massive aerobic exercise and post-orgasm haze, disappointed by the fact that you had to get up and make your way back to bed. You hoped Gar would let you sleep in his. It came as a bitter shock when he pulled out of you, leaving you empty and cold as he moved away from you so suddenly. When you blinked, he was standing, bending over with his back to you as he picked up his pants and righted the legs so he could put them back on. 

What he did next came as even worse of a shock to you. 

“I - uh… I understand if you don’t want this to affect our friendship.” He said, just loud enough for you to hear him. His tone was flat, completely void of emotion. 

“I totally get being horny and just… needing someone. We’ve been locked up here for weeks, and like. Like you said, Jason’s a clown.” He let out a laugh, but it was hollow and tired. He clearly didn’t even think his own words were funny. 

The words were so strange in those moments they took far too long to process through your sex-hazy brain. 

Was he really insinuating that you might go to Jason for sex? Was he trying to… let you down easy? Was he saying that he only wanted to be friends? Friends with benefits? 

Was he seriously saying that he didn’t love you? 

Your head was spinning with questions as you propped yourself up on your elbows, your whole body stiff as those beautiful, orgasmic chemicals faded away. It left you tired, shocked, and… feeling used. Your eyes scanned over Gar’s back as he tied up the drawstring of his pants. You focused on the dark red, deep, partially bleeding marks you had left. You had marked him, whether he liked it or not. You had some claim to him. You should. 

“I’m gonna stay for a while and finish my workout.” He told you quietly. “Do you need help getting back to bed?” 

When he came over and offered you a hand, you brushed it away. For the first time ever, you felt cold and unaccepting of his touch. You felt angry with him. How dare he invite you into his mind, show you how much he cared about you - how dare he fuck you with so much love and passion and then try to brush it all off as if it were nothing? 

‘I’m fine.’ You told him, hoping your coldness could come across in tired, limp handed signing. 

You forced yourself up on quivering knees and then onto your feet. You gathered your clothes where they had been carelessly tossed and shoved them back onto your used, dirty body. You would have preferred a shower first, but you preferred the precaution of drapery in case you did run into anyone on your way to the bathroom. 

“Oh. Okay. Cool.” 

These were Gar’s last words to you before you stormed out of the training room, going to the bathroom to ruminate on the whole experience by boiling yourself in hot, steaming water. 

…  

You thought about it for a long time while you were in the shower. 

Just stood there, under the hot spray and let your mind concentrate on the things Gar had said. He had fucked the living daylights out of you, ate your pussy like it was his fucking job. He was apparently having daydreams about doing so while calling you his fucking wife, and then once it was all said and done - he backed down from it. He told you that he ‘understood’ if you only wanted to be friends. 

He was afraid. 

It was like everything else in his life. He could transform into a fucking tiger, but he was afraid to bite people. He didn’t want to use the fantastic power that had been given to him. For years, he hid away with Doctor Caulder, a man who emotionally abused him and manipulated him. He had been too afraid to stand up for himself, too afraid to leave the house and chase the things he really wanted. 

And with you. He was clearly terrified you were going to reject him. He wanted a life with you, he wanted to worship you. He wanted you and your heart, he wanted your everything. But he was too afraid to voice it. He was too afraid he’d look like an idiot if you didn’t feel the same way. 

That’s probably why he had unconsciously reached out to you, unconsciously broadcasted his fantasies to you whenever you were near. And you’d thought it was your stupid powers acting up. 

Just like with kissing him to initiate that amazing sex - you were going to have to shake off your fear of rejection so that the two of you could be together already. 

… 

You woke up the next morning with a pounding migraine. 

Even with the preventative medications Doctor Caulder had prescribed to you to help with your seizures and migraines, the tumor that still lived inside your brain did get to torture you occasionally. When you lifted your head from your pillow and saw the gray, gloomy sky looming over San Francisco, the raindrops racing down your window, it didn’t take you long to figure out the cause of your pain. You groaned, falling face first back into your pillow, not wanting to get up. 

The ever present pain from coming from your head was topped off by soreness that had spread through your whole body - undeniable evidence that what happened between you and Gar last night wasn’t just another dream. Dreams don’t have consequences. Especially considering that your pussy was aching hard, still sore from having his impressive length splitting you open. On top of it all, your throat was stinging with an almost flu-like ache from having screamed so much through your surgery damaged vocal chords. 

You really hoped Dick would let you have one day off from training. You probably could have gotten through it with just your body being sore. But the migraine was already ravaging you, already turning your stomach sour with systematic nausea. 

You heard a knock on your door and sighed quietly. 

You had just barely hoisted yourself into a sitting position by the time the person entered. Squinting through your tired eyes, you were able to makeout a flash of green and immediately knew that it was Gar. 

“Hey, you don’t look so good. You feelin’ alright?” He knew the look that always settled upon your face when you were overtaken with such intense pain. He hardly needed to ask. “Where’s the bottle?” 

You motioned toward the drawer that held the item he spoke of - your hot water bottle, which you used to help ease the bitter pain of a migraine. He opened and closed a few drawers before he found it. Your eyes gently closed against the harsh light pouring in from the hallway, too sensitive to the light to actually look at him. 

“It’s okay, lay down.” He told you, his voice a comforting lull past the aching thrum in your forehead. He patted your thigh gently through your blanket, and you eased back onto the bed, throwing a forearm over your eyes to block the light. “I got it.” 

He went to the kitchen and filled the rubber bladder with boiling water, returning quickly with it and a glass of water. You took the now very hot water bottle. You gave him a small moan of gratitude as you placed it down on your pillow and pressed your forehead into it. 

In a practiced routine that only spoke to how much he loved you, he closed the bedroom door, blocking out the harsh light of the hallway. And then he walked around the bed to close the curtains, blocking out any potential light from the outside. He placed the glass of water down on your nightstand with a harsh clink that only radiated through your skull so painfully because of the migraine. Then you heard him open the nightstand drawer, digging around for your medication. 

You trusted that he knew which ones you needed right now. You trusted that he didn’t need your advice on how to take care of you. It was something he knew well after so long. 

You felt his fingers brushing your open palm, then felt the round tablets of your medication left there as he pulled away. 

“Sit up and take these.” He said quietly, voice barely above a whisper, as if he was afraid to hurt you with a single decibel. 

He used a gentle grip on your forearm to hoist you into a sitting position, and you swallowed the medication dutifully with the water he’d brought. 

“I’ll tell Dick you need to sit out of training today.” He explained quietly. “You need anything else?” 

‘One thing.’ You signed to him, your hands weak and tired. 

Though your pain was disruptive, and you were glad Gar was not acting any different after what had happened last night, you couldn’t wait any longer before doing this. 

Before he could question what that thing was, you leaned in. Your lips easily found his in the darkness and you planted a smooth, gentle kiss on his mouth. 

‘Don’t wanna just be friends.’ You signed, opening your tired, painful eyes to see his reaction to your words. ‘I love you. I have loved you for a long time now.’ 

A broad smile came across his face, his expression of pure joy practically glowing in the darkness. 

“Yeah. Awesome. That sounds amazing. I love you too.” His voice was slightly louder now, his joy overriding his caution for your hypersensitive, pained ears.

He felt absolutely giddy - this was what he had been waiting for, dreaming of for so long. He wanted to climb in bed with you and lay by your side for the rest of the day. But he knew that he needed to attend to other things, and more importantly - you needed your rest. 

“Get some rest now, okay?” 

He tucked you into bed, made sure the covers were up over your body, full and warm with the hot water bottle under your head before he left the room once again. 

It wasn’t long before you heard voices coming from down the hall. 

“Where’s Y/N? We’re doing balance drills in ten minutes.” Dick’s gruff voice echoed down the hall, very obviously directed at Gar, who he’d sent to wake you up.

“She needs the day off. She’s got a wicked migraine and she needs rest when it gets like this,” Gar told him simply, hoping Dick would respect him at his word. 

“We don’t get days off, Gar.” Dick pressed. “All of us have to train through pain, or injury. Do you really think some psychotic asshole is gonna care if you have a little headache while they’re trying to kill you? Do you think they’re just gonna come back another day? Do you think they’re gonna stop shooting at you if you have to stop and bandage your boo boo?”

His words cut through you, causing a sallow pain to rise up in your chest. It was something you’d been hearing since your childhood - since your treatments and hospital stays had caused you to miss too many days off and your teachers quickly stopped taking pity on you. You had always been told to just work through your pain, that the world won’t stop for you. You considered getting up and just going to training. You wanted to tough it out just to show Dick that you could, that you could puke into a garbage can and keep going, that you could boot and rally. 

You heard footsteps coming down the hall, and in your pain heightened sensitivity, you heard the metal of the doorknob shift as someone put their hand around it. The sound of Dick coming to get you out of bed anyway. 

He didn’t get the chance, though. 

“Leave it, Grayson.” Gar’s voice growled - a harsh, sharp sound that you had rarely ever heard from him before. “You don’t understand what she’s going through, and I won’t have you pushing her until she pukes on the floor just to satisfy your ego. She already trains harder than you ask and you know she could probably kick your ass,” 

You heard a harsh sigh, a deep breath through nostrils - Dick’s surrender. His footsteps disappeared down the hall, and Gar’s followed shortly after. 

Your heart bloomed with affection, awed by the blanket of protection he had put around you. 

You really were his. You always have been. 

...

When Gar was getting dressed after his shower later that day - he came across a small box in his underwear drawer. It was the ring that Rita had given him before he left Caulder House, a very expensive looking vintage piece from her days on set. Gar tried to insist that he couldn’t take something so nice, so sentimental from her. But she had closed it tight into his palm with the promise that it would be yours someday - that he would use the polished emerald ring to propose to you. 

Of course, she saw that big, beautiful, dangerous thing brewing between the two of you from a mile away. Gar considered marching down the hall and giving it to you right then there. But he tucked the box back into his drawer. In honor of Rita’s vision - he would make it old Hollywood, romantic. 

He had plenty of time.

THE END.

...

Final note: yes, I used to be @/pinkchubbiebunnie.That is still my username on AO3, and this is my new blog. This is one of my old fics, so please don’t accuse me of stealing it if you see this. I have added some new scenes and elements to it (hence, why I have split it up into two parts) so if you recognize me by this fic and if you’ve read it before, I hope you enjoy re-reading it in its newly improved form. Feel free to follow me if you’re interested in my fanfiction and thoughtful discussions of the media that I enjoy.

[hamsterboos]

Met Him Last Night

I literally speed wrote this in an hour so I'm sorry if this is a mess lmaooo but hopefully this will be continued, we'll see :D If anyone wants to be tagged in upcoming updates to this, please let me know! Just be warned, this first chapter does have (not very specific) details of a panic attack!

Title is from Demi Lovato's Met Him Last Night

Word Count: 2181 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 17 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: Bodyguard AU

~~~~~

Aelin was just about ready to murder someone, and that someone would most definitely be her cousin.

“Aelin, I’m serious, you need protection.”

She growled as she slammed her palms down on the dining table, loudly, as she stood up. “And I’m serious when I say that I need sleep. This stupid bodyguard business can wait two days for me to hibernate.”

Aedion also stood up, mirroring her stance as he leaned in closer to her. “Your life is in literal danger, Aelin. I hope you understand what that means.”

“It was one instance!” she insisted, pushing herself away from the table and moving to the kitchen to put her empty dinner plate into the sink. She was so exhausted from all the travel she’d done in the last few days that all she wanted to do was crawl into bed and sleep — dishes be damned.

“One instance of the guy mailing you pictures of you from the hotel and on the sidewalk,” he responded, moving beside her. He was following her on purpose to make sure she couldn’t escape him, and Aelin was pissed off that he knew her so well to do that. “He’s been sending you those weird as hell letters for years.”

“It’s not exactly a trade secret which hotels I stay in when I’m going on book tours, Aedion. You know that.”

“If you stopped posting Instagram pictures with the hotel in the background, then it would be more of a secret considering that you are a public figure now. Besides, it’s only going to get worse now that Crescent City season 1 press shoots start soon. Your face will be more famous than just in the book world, Aelin. People will see articles of the author behind the next biggest fantasy show on television. Things are already bad, and we shouldn’t let it get past that.”

“Okay, fine, but why can’t we talk about this later? My body clock thinks it’s the middle of the freaking night, and I haven’t slept in fifteen hours. Please get out of my face so I can sleep.”

“Aelin, if you don’t take this seriously, I’m going to do it for you.”

“Oh dear cousin, owner of a security company, please do. I don’t have the mental capacity to deal with it, especially now that I’m going to be much busier.”

“You’re so annoying,” he grumbled as he stalked towards the door.

“Love you too!” she called after him, finally, finally, heading towards her bedroom. Fleetfoot trotted after her happily, and Aelin snorted as her dog’s wet snout kept bumping into her bare calves. The dog was way too excited to see her after two long months away from home with Aelin travelling all over the world for the release of her latest book. It wasn’t like she could deny the fact that she had missed her dear, sweet dog so much as well, so when Aelin flopped down onto her soft bed for the first time in months, she let Fleetfoot join her.

Fleetfoot circled the same spot three times before curling up against Aelin, her tail slowly thumping against the mattress as Aelin got comfortable as well. The feeling of warmth from her dog and the happiness from being in her own bed after so long had Aelin falling asleep faster than she normally did, and she was just about entirely asleep when she barely heard the click of her front door opening.

Figuring it was Aedion, she just tried to drown out the sound, not having the willpower nor the strength to move. He could let himself out after taking whatever he had probably forgotten at her place, and Aelin would be happily dozing for the next several hours.

Until a crash broke the haze Aelin was in, and her eyes shot open. Heart pounding in her chest, she looked at Fleetfoot who was staring at the closed door with alarm as well.

Aelin was confused. Aedion was careful to not drop ceramic or glass objects within the house, knowing how much her mother would always be on the two of them growing up to be careful with such things, and it didn’t help that she was still half asleep. Nothing made sense to her.

Slowly getting out of bed, she winced as she stood up entirely, her feet aching after days of standing in heels. Aelin walked over to the bedroom door and creaked it open, and she scanned the immediate vicinity for Aedion, trying to see if he was anywhere near the living room or corridor. When she didn’t see him, she creeped out of her room, trying to be quiet but the sluggishness had already taken over body as she stumbled into the wall a few times. Fleetfoot was at her tail, but Aelin forced her to stay before turning the corner into the living room. If there was glass on the ground, she didn’t want it getting in her dog’s paws.

Once Aelin turned the corner, she immediately stopped, finding the scene in front of her unwelcome and incredibly jarring.

There was a man standing in her room, one that didn’t have the same blond hair she did, and the broken object was a picture frame, the shards of glass littered about on the ground as he gripped a photo of her and Fleetfoot.

Aelin swallowed slowly, the saliva getting stuck in her throat as her mouth went dry, as she realized that a man had broken into her home.

As quietly as she could, she placed a hand over her mouth, trying not to breathe too loudly as she quickly made her way back into her bedroom, herding Fleetfoot with her, and she locked the door to the bedroom. Wildly glancing around, she took the chair from her vanity and jammed it under the door knob so the door wouldn’t open.

“What do I do,” she whispered, scared of her mind as she sat down on her bed. She was shaking, that much was sure as Fleetfoot tried to lick her hands and face in an attempt to calm her down. How was Aelin supposed to calm down when there was someone in her house?

Realizing that Aedion must’ve not gotten far, she lunged for her phone on the bed and dialed Aedion’s number.

“Weren’t you supposed to be asleep?” was his greeting, but all she could get out at first was a shuddering gasp.

“Aedion,” she whispered.

“Aelin? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice immediately alert.

“There’s someone in my apartment.”

“What?!”

“Hurry, please,” she cried, trying to muffle her voice to make it seem that she wasn’t at home. She didn’t know if the man had known that she was in the apartment, but she didn’t want him to find out.

“Aelin, listen to me, you’ll be fine. I’m almost there. Are you still in your room?”

“I, uh, I’m in my bedroom with Fleetfoot. I went out when there was a crash, and then ran back to my room,” she managed to get out. “I locked the door and jammed a chair underneath.”

“Go into the bathroom and lock that door too,” he urged, and she got up to move to the bathroom. “If he manages to get your room door unlocked, then at least you have some more time. I’m almost there, but you need to call 911, too.”

“Aedion, I can’t—” Aelin gasped out, leaning against the bathroom counter after locking the door behind her and her dog. Her breaths were coming in faster, and there wasn’t anything she could do to control the way her eyesight was beginning to blur. “I can’t let him know I’m in here.”

“He won’t find out,” he urged.

“But Aedion,” she cried, “the plates in the sink. He’ll see them, and he’ll know I was home. He’ll know I’m here.” The pounding in her chest had gotten louder than what Aedion was saying, and all she could do was sob into her hands. She wasn’t safe anymore outside, but now she wasn’t safe in her own room.

“Aelin! Aelin, it’s okay, I’m here.”

The next thing Aelin heard were shouts and yells before it got all quiet. She clambered up to her feet, throwing the door to the bathroom open before trying to get the chair back out, but it wouldn’t budge. It was stuck, and her limbs weren’t cooperating. There wasn’t anything she could do, and she tugged at the chair with a cry.

“Come on,” she cried, tugging at it more before it finally came free, clattering to the ground. Unlocking the door, she took a few unsteady steps before Aedion came into view, the man lying on the ground unconscious. Aelin lost all control of her body, and she fell into Aedion’s arm as he ran for her, and that was the last thing she saw before blackness encompassed her.

~~~

When Aelin awoke several hours later, it was to the commotion coming from downstairs. At first, she blinked a few times, trying to readjust to where she was because it wasn’t the drab hotel room view she’d gotten accustomed to, and once her brain was awake enough to process that she was in Aedion and Lysandra’s spare bedroom, she got out of bed and padded over to the bathroom to brush her teeth and her hair. If she was going to show her face after a major panic attack that caused her to faint for a few minutes, she should at least look decent.

Fleetfoot was, thankfully, also with her in the room, and Aelin sat on the ground for a few minutes just to hug her dog before getting up and going to the living room.

As soon as she made her entrance, everyone went silent, the only sound was Fleetfoot’s paws as she went straight for Lysandra to nose at her for treats.

“Okay,” Aelin swallowed. “I get it. I need a bodyguard, but at least that guy was arrested,” she continued, hopefully. Aedion beckoned her to sit next to him, and it was then that she realized that besides her cousin and his wife, Elide was also there and a man that she’d never met before. He was striking, to say the least. Silver hair with a sharp jawline and beautifully green eyes. His short-sleeved shirt also showed off swirls of tattoo creeping up his bicep, and Aelin had to say that she was intrigued by who this man was.

“Look,” her cousin started, directing her attention back to him. His face showed concern, and she was suddenly worried that this entire ordeal might not be over. “That man wasn’t the same one who stalked you. He was just a burglar trying to score after noticing that no one had been going in or out of the apartment for a while. It just helped that the security guard downstairs is of no use, so he broke in.”

Aelin was having a hard time processing all this information being thrown at her. “So you’re telling me that it was just...unlucky?”

“I have been telling you to move,” he unhelpfully added, and she let him know exactly that.

“Anyway, we’ve come up with a solution,” Elide butt in. “Aelin, meet Rowan Whitethorn. He works in Aedion’s company. He was working for a different client for a few years, but they switched companies, so he’s now free to protect you.”

“Hey,” she greeted without any of her previous enthusiasm.

“Pleasure to meet you, Ms. Galanthynius,” Rowan responded, and she noticed the slight accent to his words.

“Doranelle?” she asked, and he nodded.

“I will be protecting you from now on, uh, in a close manner.”

Aelin slightly jerked in her spot at his shy demeanor over his words, and the way he said it caught her attention.

“What do you mean?” No one answered her at first, peaking her anxiety again. “Aedion?” she asked, looking to him for an explanation.

“Since it’s also not safe for you to be at home alone, we’re going to have Rowan pretend to be your boyfriend.”

~~~

Aelin stepped out of the car, hand placed in Rowan’s as he led her into the paparazzi filled lot that led to the building where the final press shoots and poster shoots would be taking place for her show. It was still absolutely insane that someone she had written was actually going to be a TV show for the whole world to see, but another absolutely insane thing was the fact that she was pressed up against Rowan’s hard body, trying to pretend to be absolutely in love with him.

“Who is this man?” she heard one of the journalists ask, and she wanted to say that she didn’t exactly know either considering she had just met him last night, but this was the perfect opportunity for the world to know that she had a boyfriend.

Technically.

Smiling, she pulled Rowan to a stop as she turned to the vague direction from where she heard the voice. “This is my boyfriend.”

[stanknotstark]

Serinakakers As Proof

Serinakakers are actually called Norwegian butter cookies in english and I don’t think i’ve ever had one but they look good to me lol i didn’t feel like making a whole new otherworldly dessert sorry I’m lazy sometimes 😂

Summary: You’re dating Loki but keeping it a secret as per Loki’s request. The team starts to question if you’re lying about your ‘lover’ and Loki has to save you because Thor has really bad timing.

It all started two weeks into dating Loki. Loki was a little unsure what the team’s reaction to you two dating would be so he told you to keep it a secret for now. You respected his wishes but that didn’t stop you from flaunting about how you had the best ‘lover’ (Loki refused to be called boyfriend) in the world. 

Two weeks in Valentines came up and Loki had a vase of beautiful flowers sent to you with a little card that said, “For the fairest of them all - your love” In reference to Snow White, which you had both watched very recently. 

You had taken them around the whole tower, telling people it had come from your lover when they asked. 

“At least give us his name, I promise to not, like, totally have a background check on him!” Tony says with a pout. 

You laugh and shake your head. “No can do Tin Man. He doesn’t want you all to know who he is just yet.”

“See, that makes me a little skittish, if he doesn’t want us to know he has something to hide.” 

“I agree with him and think he should remain nameless.”

“That doesn’t make me feel better.” Tony points out.

You shrug at Tony and do the motions for zipping your lips closed and throwing out the key. 

Loki ends up picking a random day, a month later, to send you a big basket of chocolate, your favorite hard candies, and really small plushies of all the Avengers (It’s totally not his way of giving you sweets because you’re on your period). Your favorite plushy isn’t one of the Avengers, it’s a small plushy of Loki. Because you’re given the basket in front of everyone you make sure not to freak out over the Loki plushy but you keep stealing glances at the god who sits apart from everyone else, reading. 

“He even got you Loki?” Steve asks bewildered. 

“Like it or not, Loki is part of the group. Seems he has built a group of fans now.” You say, stealing a glance at Loki who smirks at his book. You know he’s pleased you’ve defended his honor. 

“You do realize I’m right here, do you not?” Loki says, still not looking up from his book. 

Steve at least has the decency to look ashamed and his cheeks flare up. 

“There’s not a card with a name!” Tony says making everyone look at the basket again.

“Of course not, you dumbass.” You say, slapping the back of Tony’s head, Tony proceeds to throw his hands and slap away at your receding hand. Thor and Bruce chuckle with you at his childish antics. 

“Can you at least give us a letter in his name?” Clint asks from your side. 

You sigh and look to the ceiling in thought. 

“K.”

“Kevin!” Clint immediately yells. “Wait, we don’t know a Kevin.” 

“Who said you know who it is?” You ask as you gather your basket to put in your room. 

Clint completely disregards what you said and yells, “Kate!”

Natasha hits Clint’s arm, “She’s straight, stupid.”

Tony then pipes in as you walk away rolling your eyes, “Kyle! Kaden! Kayden but with a y!” 

“His name doesn’t start with a k guys!” You yell as the elevator closes, exasperated. 

Next, a week and a half has passed when they start questioning your relationship. Thor figures it out but only because he grew up with the thing you’re gifted. 

You had been the last one to enter the kitchen for dinner and right as you entered Thor came up to you with puppy dog eyes and was holding a tin of sweets. You take a long look at the delicacies, they’re some type of cookies, in a swirl pattern, and decorated with powdered sugar. Thor answers your questions right after you think that.

“They’re butter cookies, can I please have one, your boyfriend sent them.” Thor says making sure to enunciate the word boyfriend. Your eyes snap to Thor’s and the god smiles down at you. On one hand it looks innocent but you see past his facade.

He knows. 

You clear your throat and grab the tin from him, making sure to pull one of the cookies out and give it to him. 

“Since you’re nice, sure, big guy.” You say giving Thor a look that said ‘Say nothing’. Thor bounces from foot to foot, shoving his cookie in the face of the other Avengers.

“She likes me!” Thor roars then demolishes the cookie in a single bite. 

You laugh, glance at Loki from under your lashes as you look at the cookies and pick one out to try.

When the cookie touches your tongue you can’t help closing your eyes and moaning. You chew and the cookie just melts in your mouth. You moan as your take another bite and you think you could practically orgasm this cookie is so damn good but remember the entire team is there. 

When you finish the cookie you open you eyes and look at everyone. Tony is looking at you like he wants to eat you, Natasha is eating her food like she doesn’t fucking care, Steve is blushing so hard you think his head might explode. Clint is shocked, and Bruce is looking at you with a raised brow. The last person you look at is Loki who sits there staring at you with flushed cheeks and a glint in his eye that says he’s going to tear those noises from your lips again, this time without the cookies.

You cough and look at Thor who is smiling like he is satisfied. You understand why he wanted one so bad now. 

“I’m sorry but what the fuck just happened.” Tony says shaking his head. 

You laugh. “I had an orgasm while eating a cookie, get with the program.”

“Honestly, if his cookies are that good you need to marry the man, just saying.” Tony waves his had at you then goes on to start eating his dinner.

You go to eat another cookie but Loki finally says something. 

“No dessert before dinner, put the cookies down.” 

“Or what?” You challenge the god.

Loki raises a brow at you and levels you with a glare.

“Put them down.”

You suck on your gums and squint at the god as you put the cookies on the table.

“You’re lucky I like you.”

“Ok, first of all, you like everyone so I don’t see the point in saying that. Second, how have you told Loki you like him before me? We all know I’m the favorite around here.” Tony scoffs while aggressively stabbing a broccoli floret. 

You take your seat next to Loki and that’s when it’s asked.

“Is your boyfriend even real? Or are you gifting yourself all these things so you’ll make one of us jealous?” Clint asks in a normal voice, he really doesn’t mean it to be mean.

You stop smiling at Tony and frown at Clint.

“He’s real.” You say a little hurt. 

“I mean it just seems a little fishy.”

You pout at Clint.

“I could look into her purchases and see if she bought it herself.” Tony rouses from the other side of the table. He’t totally joking but Steve doesn’t take it that way.

“Tony! That’s private, you can’t just do that!” Steve tries protecting you. 

You start to get a little angry.

“He’s real. If you don’t think he’s real then that’s on you. I know he is and that’s all that matters.” You reason, more for yourself than anything else. 

Under the table you feel Loki’s hand squeeze at your thigh. 

“Just give us something to let us know he’s real.” Tony pushes. 

You slam your hands on the table and stand up so fast the chair you were in topples over. 

“Stop!” Loki yells, in a quick move he stands and puts an arm in front of you, not to protect Tony but to stop you before you did something you regret.

The room is silent save for your rough breathing. 

“It’s me.” Loki harshly says, glaring at Tony and Clint.

“You don’t have to cover for her, it’s embarrassing but-”

“Shut up!” You scream at Clint.

“I’m not trying to cover for her. I’ve been dating her for the past month and a half. I did not want her to tell you because I wasn’t sure how all of you would react.” Loki gets out then turns and brings you to him so he may kiss you. 

Loki makes it a show for the team, relaxes as you lean into him, your hands wrapping around his neck and tugging at the nape of his neck. He pulls away before you can lose yourself in his kiss and looks at the team with a raised eyebrow as if asking ‘Is that enough for you?’.

Finally Thor peeps in between a big bite of his food. “Ay, Loki is telling the truth, those are Serinakakers, an Asgardian delicacy my mother used to make us.” 

Loki rolls his eyes at his brother’s really bad timing and then looks back down at you, you’re still wrapped around him, now with a tiny smile on your lips as you look at him.

“Ok, darling?” Loki asks anyways.

“I’ll be happy if you let me take those cookies and eat those for dinner in my bedroom.” 

Loki brings a hand up and trails a finger from the back of your jaw to your chin, going up to touch your bottom lip. “Only if you promise to make those sweet sounds every bite you take.” Loki whispers.

“Ok this is seriously gross, I’m literally gonna throw up.” Tony says with a fake gag.

You laugh and pull from Loki who glares at Tony. You point at Tony, then at Clint. “Don’t think you two are off the hook, I’m still royally pissed, you’re just lucky when I’m around Loki I can’t stay mad.”

You make your way around the table, Loki following, dinner forgotten, and pick up your cookies. Then, you head towards your room. 

Halfway to the elevator Loki grabs your hand and doesn’t let go until you’re both laying on your bed enjoying your cookies. Talking about everything and nothing. 

[dreamescapeswriting]

SKZ Reaction | Protective Because Of Sasaengs

Chan:

It was the usual crowd of people that followed the boys around but something just felt off today, Chan was holding on your hand tightly while his laptop was in his carry on in the other. He was always the protective one in the relationship but lately, with the newest comeback things had gotten a little crazier, fans were starting to act insane and more Sasaengs were starting to crawl out of the woodwork.

"Chan," You whispered as he tightened his grip on your hand, the place was overly crowded and you could see that the other boys were starting to worry about it as well.

"I know," He whispered back to you making sure to hold you as close as he could get you. He didn't want anything to happen to you while he was responsible for you and he also didn't want someone to grab onto you. While he was busy focusing on you he'd neglected to cling tightly enough onto the case he was carrying his laptop in and someone snatched it.

"Babe!" Chan yelled trying to stop you running after them, his arms grasped you tightly to stop you rushing away so that the security guards could do their jobs. Your breathing was heavy as you got angrier at the thought of someone coming that close to Chan like that, they could have grabbed him or one of the boys, seriously hurt them.

"Hey, look at me. Look." Chan pulled you behind the barriers were fans were being held off from and he forced you to look into his eyes.

"I'm okay, look." You stared up into his eyes as he cupped your cheeks, though his face was covered by the mask he was wearing you could tell he was doing his best to keep a smile on his face and keep you calm throughout all of this.

"We're all okay," You stared into his eyes trying to search for any sign that he wasn't but you could read him like a book, his laptop was returned instantly and you both began walking towards the terminal you needed.

Minho:

Your day had been amazing, not a single person had noticed that you and Minho had taken the day off to go shopping and doing basic tourist things together. It felt like a regular date with him rather than having to sprint away from destinations hand in hand trying to avoid crazy fans who stalked him.

"We should do it again," You said softly as you sat in the back of Soul Cup cafe waiting for your drinks, the date was slowly coming to an end and you were going to have one more drink before you left him.

"I think I have another day off next week, I'll ask Chan when I get back to the dorms." He sat down in front of you so he was facing away from the entrance so no one would notice him if they happened to come into the cafe.

"Yeah that sounds-" You stopped yourself talking when the bell above the door began to chime and crowds of people begin to walk in and began looking around, you immediately knew one of them. You'd spotted her around all day but thought it would just be a coincidence but now it was positive to you that she was a Sasaeng.

"Minho..." You whispered looking at him as she spotted you in the corner together,

"We need to leave, can you get out any other way?" He nodded his head explaining the back exit for employees and you nodded at him.

"Go, go and I'll figure out how to take care of these-" You were pulled out of your seat by him as he rushed you both towards the back exit. He wasn't about to let you try and stop Sasaengs when some security guards could barely do that,

"Just run and don't look back." He chuckled holding onto your hand tightly and headed in the direction of a car park where he could lose them all.

Changbin:

You hated when the crowds picked up whenever you were out with the guys, the last time it got bad like this your bag was stolen because they thought it would have something inside of it but luckily Changbin had thought ahead and told you to put your things in his pockets. This time however someone had just made off with your phone and Changbin was left trying to get a security guard to find it.

"It has everything on their Changbin, your number, the boys, everything." You panicked looking around, you were about ready to kick ass for someone coming that close to you and Changbin when they weren't supposed to. People had been grabbing onto the guys all morning and trying to pull them closer but luckily security had been doing a decent job up until now.

"What if they get your number!?" You panicked looking back at him, his hands cupped your face forcing you to look at him instead of around at the crowds of people.

"Look at me, if they have my number I can change it. That's changeable." He promised you, you knew how much Sasaengs terrified him as well, you'd seen it when one of them had followed him and Jeongin home one night.

"I just can't stand the thought of someone-" You were cut off when your phone was being held up in front of your face, a girl - that couldn't have been any older than 15 was holding it up for you.

"We saw a Sasaeng running off with it so we chased after her," You turned to see three girls all aged around the same age and you smiled thanking them as you took your phone back from them.

"I owe you guys one," You yelled as you began moving with Changbin and the boys again.

Hyunjin:

People had been crowding around the JYP building for hours, you should have expected it since one of the Sasaengs that constantly followed Hyunjin had tweeted out where he was and who he was with - you. STAY had been positive about the relationship finally being out in the open since JYP was hardly one to allow their Idol's to date, they were happy to see Hyunjin was happy with you. However, Sasaengs hadn't taken it great and were using their platforms to tweet out where you both were at every minute of every day.

"We have to get home, the car is outside alright?" You said to Hyunjin, you were ready to protect him through everything and if that meant standing on one side of him while a guard took the other you were willing to do that.

"Hold my hand alright?" You knew how nervous he got around things like this so you wanted to make sure he was going to be okay with everything happening,

"Lets go." You whispered moving in time with the giant guard, as soon as you stepped outside screaming started, begging for pictures and flashing lights. You weren't used to any of it at all but you kept your head down trying to head towards the car when a cup of freezing liquid splashed across your top.

"Car now." Hyunjin ordered pushing you faster and away from the Sasaeng that had thrown the cold drink over you, a couple of them started yelling about how it was your fault they weren't allowed to have photos when it had been the policy that he wasn't allowed to stop at all.

"You alright?" You asked as soon as the door shut and he shook his head at you,

"I'm supposed to be the one asking you that not the other way around." He sighed, searching through his bag for a shirt that you could change into.

Jisung:

Jisung span you around under his arm before pulling you back towards him and smiling down at you, even though the mask covered his face you could still sense how big his smile was.

"You alright? You've been weird all night." By all night he meant the last couple of hours, you'd snuck out of the dorms together at 3 in the morning to go to a local 24-hour store and get ice cream. It was one of the best times to get out because no one would suspect it, no one could guess that you'd been wandering around the streets together. He was in his usual disguise though - hoodie, baseball cap and a giant mask to cover his face.

"I just feel like we're being followed, ever since we left the store." You whispered looking around for any sign that it was true, it wasn't uncommon for Sasaeng's to follow Jisung around but since it had come out that you were together as a couple they'd began following you as well.

"We're alone-" He stopped midsentence when he heard the familiar sound of a camera shutter, that was all it took. You took his hand in yours and began walking in the opposite direction of the dorms, you weren't about to get him and the boys caught up in all of this. You didn't want to have their dorms address spread all over the internet, so you took Jisung through alleyways and back streets to get out of the way of the Sasaeng, you'd take these routes a lot over the last year of dating Jisung, you knew what you were doing.

Felix:

You knew flying with the boys was never easy but you would have thought it would calm down once you were on the plane but it hadn't. Some Sasaeng's had managed to get tickets onto the same flight as you, Felix and Chan. You were heading to Australia for part of their time off but people had managed to find out your flight times despite it being as early in the morning as possible and booked under false names they'd found you.

"They're right in front of us babe." You wanted to do something to protect both Felix and Chan but they didn't seem that phased by it, they had been in the game a lot longer than you had but it didn't stop you worrying about Felix.

"I know but I need to use the restroom, I can't hold it for a 10 hour long flight." You sighed watching as he got up from the chair and made his way down, the moment the fan saw him she got up from her seat. You went to stand up when Chan laid his hand on yours and shook his head, instantly a flight attendant and a security guard was escorting the ''fan'' back to her seat and making sure that Felix was on his own the entire time. They really would stop at nothing to be alone with the boys and it scared the hell out of you,

"See, told you it was fine," Felix smirked at you sitting down next to you again and laying his head on your shoulder. They were probably going to sleep through the whole flight but you couldn't. You felt like you were going to stay awake the entire time just to keep an eye on both of the boys.

Seungmin:

There was a huge crowd gathering around outside the small game shop that you and Seungmin had walked into, you were hunting for a new game for your switch and Seungmin decided to tag along with you  - it seemed like no problem at first but then people started to recognise him and tweet out about where he was.

"Y/n?" You looked up at the guard that was manning the door of the shop making sure that no one else had access into the building,

"Hmm?" He pointed at one of the girls standing at the door, she was wearing one of the shortest dresses you'd ever seen and waved at you.

"Claims she knows you?" You shook your head, you'd never seen her before in your life but Seungmin had,

"She's one of them," Was all he said to the guard before moving you away from the door.

"Sasaeng? They're everywhere." You whispered wrapping your arm around Seungmins waist and moving further into the store not wanting to be stared at by anyone that was looking through the window. They'd been getting creative lately, instead of just following the boys around they'd started to follow you hoping that you would lead them back to your apartment or the dorms but you never did. You took shortcuts to lose them but if you couldn't find a way to lose them you wouldn't go home, you'd go somewhere more public where plenty of people could see you and you could lose them in the crowds. All you wanted to do was protect Seungmin from them but some of them were insane.

I.N:

You and Jeongin had lost the guard when you were fighting to get out of the huge crowd that had been to swarm around you both. You'd gone on a day trip to a small mall thinking it would be easy enough not to be spotted but all it took was one fangirl seeing you and it was all over the internet, where you were, what he was wearing so they could easily find you.

"I think we lost them." You breathed heavily bending over on your knees to try and catch your breath, Jeongin held onto your hand tightly trying to keep hold of you in case they suddenly found you again when you heard a camera. You turned to see one of the girls you'd seen a million times, she was always around no matter what, she'd followed you both onto a plane once.

"Jeongin, behind me." You whispered you weren't sure what you were going to do but him being behind you felt like one of the best ideas for now.

"Y/n, you can't-" Her hand reached out to touch him as she started yelling about how much she loved him so you pushed him back away from her before pulling him into a run and began sprinting through the mall together.

"Can you remember the way back to the car?" You asked while running up a set of stairs and towards the in building car park, no one had followed you out yet which was a good sign.

"Yeah, fourth floor." You got into one of the elevators instead and hit the fourth-floor button when you noticed all of them lighting up to say someone was pushing it,

"Out and run," You told him not to look back until he got to the car and that you would just meet him up there.

"All clear?" He asked as you got into the car panting heavily,

"Took them to the top floor and said that you were in the farthest car away, then I ran down the stairs and they didn't follow me." He sighed bringing you into a hug as you waited for the guard to figure out where you'd gone.

Tagline: 

@snowy-meowl​ @kneel-begyourpardon​ @jooniesdarlingdimples​ @yunhoesss​

[thatrandomwriter]

Returning the favor

Merle x female reader, reader saves Merle’s life after he cuts off his hand

Warnings: sexual language, slight gore, cursing

A banging at the door made me jump awake - I never slept deeply anymore, and I spent most of my nights in and out of what could barely be described as sleep, easily woken and constantly exhausted.

My first thought was a particularly persistent walker. But then I heard a voice, raspy and southern “I saw you through the window. Open up. Or I swear, I’ll kick this damn door down.” It was most likely a looter. Opening the door to him seemed immediately like the stupid option, but if he was serious about knocking my door down then I would have to find a new place to hide out, an extra risk I could not afford to take. My best bet was to overpower him at the door. He’d seen me through the window and probably assumed that I’d be easily threatened, but what he hadn’t seen was the pistol I kept hidden by the door, or the knives I had stashed under my mattress and around the small room.

The banging on the door got more persistent. I grabbed a knife, and ensured my gun was easily in reach. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra weapons he didn’t know about.

I swung open the door. A tall, broad man stood in my doorway. One arm was pointing a gun vaguely in my direction, the other dripping so much blood it almost looked black. His hand had been cut off.

“Get out. All your shit is mine now, don’t think I won’t shoot you just cuz yer a girl,” He sneered at me, feigning confidence, but his skin was tinged grey and sweat was beading on his brow. He was weak and there was no way he could physically overpower me in this state, despite his muscular frame.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at his threat. Then, in one swift motion, I knocked the gun from his hand and pushed my knife to his throat, firmly enough for a small bead of blood to gather on the edge of the blade. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something stupid, before the full weight of his body collapsed into me and he lost consciousness.

*

Somehow, with strength I hadn’t even known I had, I half lifted, half dragged the man’s body over to my mattress on the floor. It was clear he had lost far too much blood. I knew it was stupid, but some part of me wanted to help him, even though I knew he had come here to rob me blind, and possibly to kill me after he had taken all of my possessions. I told myself it was because leaving him outside would attract walkers. But really some part of me was still weak and soft, and somehow I had sympathy for a man who could not give less of a shit about me.

Minor medical training from books I had scavenged and stolen told me that he was in desperate need of stitches, and likely had a severe infection from his wound, and that it needed to be treated fast or there was no way he could survive without a hospital, which, for obvious reasons, was not an option. The building I had set up camp in was a small convenience store in the city which I used to run, and decided to stay in when the dead started walking. Unfortunately, the store had tempted many thieves in the early days, but as time went on, less and less people braved the city. The man must have seen that my store was the least damaged for several blocks, and identified it as his best bet at survival. He was right - behind the counter were antibiotics and just enough first aid equipment for me to have a chance at saving him. Even if he had stolen my supplies, it was unlikely that he would have managed treating his own wound.

The stitches were the worst part. I had never liked needles, and as far as facing my fears went, this was seriously hands on. It was messily done, probably a laughable job compared to professional standards. And I was sure that the amount of blood on the floor, my hands and staining my clothes was biologically impossible. But somehow he was still alive, something I still hadn’t decided was a good or bad thing. At least he was unconscious for now.

*

Two days passed. I was getting used to sleeping with him around, trying not to think about what he might do if he awoke while I was asleep- waking up to a gun in my face was a real possibility, but one that I had to risk. I slept on the floor next to the mattress he was occupying, uncomfortable enough to be exhausted but easily woken if he or the walkers became an immediate threat.

I sat next to him on the mattress, cleaning his arm, checking that the infection was fading and that the stitches were holding like they should be. It was strange looking after someone who had barely spoken two sentences to me, those sentences being delirious threats after severe blood loss. I often found myself wondering what he would have been like if we had met before the world had ended, at a bar maybe, where he could have bought me a drink or two. I like to think that he would have been the type to hit on me shamelessly and I would have been cynical but secretly loved his advances. I cut myself off in my head. It was ridiculous to think like this. With some effort, I focused back on his arm and began to change his bandage, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I had forgotten how comfortable the mattress was. Every time I closed my eyes, sleep tried to pull me down. I just had to keep them open, just had to focus-

I jolted awake. It almost pitch dark, if I had to guess a time I would have said an hour or two before dawn. There was a hand around my mouth and an arm was around my waist, holding me still against the warm, hard body behind me. He had woken up. Immediately I struggled against him, biting his hand and elbowing him in the stomach. He swore under his breath, but his grip only tightened around me.

“Stop wrigglin’. There’s walkers in here, I’m tryna figure out how many, so for fuck’s sake stay still.”

I nodded. He removed the hand from my mouth, but the arm around my waist stayed. Probably a precaution in case I tried anything again.

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “How did they get in - and when did you wake up? What’s your name? Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Now wasn’t the time for questions, but I was desperate for answers. For all I knew, the only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was to keep me as bait for the walkers.

He shushed me. Then, he finally let go of me and stood up. “Wait here.”

He walked off in the direction of a shuffling noise, and seconds later I heard the thunk of a knife through a skull, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The sound, quiet as it was, caused another walker’s movements to become frenzied. I heard snarling and then the sound of a second body hitting the floor. There were no more walker sounds, just the sound of the man walking back towards me.

I jumped to my feet and reached for the knife normally hooked through my belt. It was gone, as was the knife under my mattress. I had no defence against the stranger that I had so stupidly taken care of.

“Window’s broken, s’what woke me up. You were out cold. Hope ya had a nice nap.”

I stood up, trying to read his face in the growing bit still dim light.

“Name’s Merle. And you, sugar tits, are exceptionally lucky that I believe in returning favours.”

So he didn’t plan on killing me after all. I shook off the lingering fear caused by both him and the walkers getting so close.

“Thanks. And you’re welcome, I stitched you up good. And don’t call me that, or I’ll chop of your other hand,” He smirked at me, knowing my threat was entirely empty.

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure you wanna do that, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of what I can do with this hand,” His smile was suggestive and I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m gonna board up the broken window,” I attempted to ignore his last sentence, but it was clear he could tell I was flustered as he stepped forward, closing in on me.

“Don’t ya think we should get to know each other a little first?”

[battybatzgirl]

Hey Mr. Sandman, You Missed a Spot

AO3

Summary: 

It's not that Hunter doesn't ever sleep, Eda's come to realize. It was that he falls asleep sporadically, most of the time in really weird places.

Or: 5 times Eda catches Hunter taking a nap

Part 1 of the Finders Keepers Series

---

Here’s the thing about Eda: she loves naps. Eda likes to be cozy, so usually, that equated to curling up under a blanket, lazing around, and falling asleep. The Owl Beast shared that sentiment, the creature that lived within her constantly wanting to nest. Those animalistic instincts were weird, but when you lived in a house with a demon who also liked to bury himself under a pile of stuffed animals, you kind of got used to it.

Here’s the thing about Hunter: he doesn’t sleep.

The kid has been living with them for only about two weeks, officially replacing Eda as Public Enemy Numero Uno in the eyes of the Emperor. When he’d showed up on Hooty’s doorstep, all bloody and barely conscious, Eda thought it was some kind of cosmic trick. The Powers That Be had to be pulling her leg because this was the second time the leader of the Emperor’s Coven had shown up to the Owl House with nowhere else to go.

Luz had been ecstatic to welcome him in, apparently excited to finally fulfill her dreams of becoming a middle child in their weird little found family. King was less thrilled, but eventually warmed up to the idea of Hunter staying with them as long as he taught King his secrets on how to command an army.

Hunter himself even seemed unnerved at the thought of living with them. He tried to leave a few times when he was still wounded, but his little bird palisman (Rascal, she’s heard him say) effectively herded him back into the house by continuously dive-bombing him and nipping at his ears. And after Belos put out a wanted poster for the kid, making him the Isles’ number one most wanted traitor, leaving wasn’t really an option. Not if he wanted to stay alive.

So eventually, Hunter begrudgingly accepted that yeah, he lived in the Owl House now.

And alright, Eda isn’t heartless. The kid was lost, wounded, and an enemy of the Emperor. She can work with that.

Getting to know him has been a challenge, though. Hunter has a lot of weird quirks. He holds himself so seriously that Eda has a hard time remembering that he’s a teenager and not a fully grown middle-aged man. He hardly ever smiles. He’s jumpy, practically jolting out of his skin every time you walk into the same room. He’s clearly Going Through Some Shit, as Eda so eloquently calls it, remembering how Lily went through the same thing when she slowly broke free of Belos’s freaky subjugation.

But still. The kid doesn’t sleep.

Eda first notices it around day four of his residence. She’s up early to go to the market, stepping into the living room and nearly transforming into her Harpy Form out of pure shock when she sees a figure messing with her bookshelf in the back of the room. Wide maroon eyes lock on hers from across the room and she feels the feathers that sprung to her skin recede.

“Titan, kid,” she breaths, “You nearly killed me. What are you doing up? It’s Saturday, you should be sleeping in.”

“Um…I did sleep in,” Hunter responds, as if it’s obvious.

Eda feels a frown tug at her lips, “The sun isn’t even up yet.”

The kid just shrugs a little lamely, and Eda feels a twinge of concern in her chest. (And ugh, feeling concerned for a guy who dangled you over the Boiling Sea is certainly weird.) If this was sleeping in for him, he couldn’t have rested more than five hours.

She steps closer, taking a second look at what he’s doing. Half the books are spread out on the floor, the other half stacked neatly back on the shelves in some kind of order.

He notices her looking, “I, uh, took the liberty of reorganizing your bookshelf. Or organizing it, since it didn’t really seem to have a system.” The kid ducks his head, the tips of his ears flushing pink. “I- I can put it back the way it was if you want, or organize them in a different way.”

That’s another thing about Hunter: he always has to be doing something. Being useful. Without direction, he crumples. It was always, What do you want me to do now, Miss Clawthorne this and I completed this task, Miss Clawthorne, what’s next that. His brain operated on a transactional level—I do this thing for you, you do this thing for me. And since Eda was housing him, he felt like he had to constantly be doing things for her. Constantly proving himself worthy to be here, repaying her. Hunter couldn’t seem to wrap his head around that she didn’t want him to do anything except stay comfortable.

Eda has thought up a hundred different little tasks for him to do in just his first four days. She’s running out of odd jobs to give him, and if she has to keep telling him what to do she’s going to start pulling out her hair.

“You’re fine, kid,” she says. “Keep doin’ what you’re doin’ if it makes ya happy. But you shouldn’t be up this early. You should at least take a nap later.”

Hunter tilts his head. “But that wouldn’t be accomplishing anything.”

“You don’t hafta be working all the time,” Eda stresses. “It’s okay to sit around and just exist once and a while. Actually, I think that should be your priority. Take a nap, relax, go cloud watching, take a walk—any or all of the above.”

“That sounds like doing nothing.”

“That’s because it is doing nothing.”

His face hardens, taking on that soldier-like seriousness that encompasses his entire demeanor. “Being lazy can’t be a priority.”

“Don’t think of it like that, then,” Eda almost snaps, wishing for a nice hot mug of apple blood. It was too damn early to deal with the repercussions of Belos’s all-work-no-play mindset. “Think of it as acting your age. Did you ever get to take naps as a kid in the Emperor’s Coven? Is relaxing just a foreign concept to you?”

He doesn’t answer, staring at her with those bagged eyes and guarded expression, and Eda throws up her hands in defeat.

She leaves then, her patience running too thin to continue arguing with him. She doubts he’ll actually go back to sleep. He probably goes back to doing whatever he was doing with that bookshelf. Eda makes a mental note to tell King to knock all the books off, just so Hunter can reorganize it later. Just for something for him to keep him occupied.

1.

Eda doesn’t even notice the first time it happens. It was one of Luz’s friends, Gus, who pointed it out.

The kids were gathered at her home after school, spread out on the floor of the living room along with various pillows and blankets. Luz found some card game she knew buried somewhere in the piles of human trash Eda has laying around, and the girl has been spending the better part of an hour trying to explain how it works.

“So the Wild Card doesn’t make you turn into a wild animal?” Willow questions, holding up a black card with looks like a colorful pie chart on it.

“Nope!” Luz says cheerfully. “It just becomes any color you want it to be to go with the rest of your hand.”

“But the card doesn’t actually change color?” Amity asks.

“No, it only represents the color,” Luz clarifies, and Eda has to admit, her girl has a ton of patience. She’s been quietly watching from her place on the couch, half-listening to their conversation, half-reading the Isles’ latest edition of You Gossipy Witch, a tabloid where a writer is speculating about her true form. Apparently, some people think she was raised by feral, wild owls on some far away barrier island, and has come to reside in Bonesborough just because she ran out of mutant rats to eat.

Weird.

But entertaining!

Gus holds up one of his cards, “So are blank cards bad, or—"

King jumps over his shoulder, landing on the deck of cards in the middle of their little circle and making them fly everywhere. “I have taken dominion over ALL YOUR CARDS. All of you must grovel for a taste of my wealth!”

“Actually, the point of the game is to get rid of all your cards,” Luz reminds him gently. “That way, when you get down to one card, you shout Uno! And you win! If no one else makes you draw anymore, that is.”

King deflates a little, apparently put off by the idea of less is more. “Oh.” Luz smiles and pats him on the head, and he brightens up. “Okay, let’s play, because I wanna make all of you draw as many cards as possible! You'll drown in your cards! Choke on them, even!”

As they start gathering up the cards that King threw everywhere, Gus lets out a little gasp. “You guys—is Hunter asleep?”

That immediately draws Eda’s attention away from the magazine. Her eyes flicker to the blond witch, laying on his stomach just on the edge of their group. He was still having a hard time socializing, especially with Amity, but Luz was determined to include him in all friendship activities. She said wanted to teach him how to be a kid, and hell, if anyone could knock some seriousness out of that boy it would be Luz.

Hunter is indeed asleep—his face is mushed into the forearms pillowed under his head, and his red palisman has weaseled its way to nestle in between the crook of his elbow. His breath comes out in soft little sighs, and Eda feels something in her melt.

“Awwww, he looks so peaceful,” Luz croons, mushing her palms against her cheeks. Amity’s already scooched past her, snapping photos on her scroll. Eda can’t blame her. She knows a good blackmail opportunity when she sees one.

Eda’s off the couch and catches King mid-pounce. “Whoa there, none of that buddy.”

“But Edaaaa,” the demon whines, his little arms and legs flailing in mid-air. “I have to conquer him when he least expects it!”

“Ehhh, let the kid sleep. Save your conquests for when he’s awake and can put up a fight.” Eda sets him down in his place in the circle, and the kids all glance at each other before turning back to the cards.

She notices that they’re more mindful to keep their tones softer, probably to not disturb the sleeping boy. And when Hunter wakes himself up about half an hour later, they don’t mention it, seamlessly integrating him back into their game.

2.

The second time it happens, Raine is walking Eda home. It’s early in the evening, and the pair just got done with a fabulous date—a picnic with apple blood and sweet (and stolen) baked goods? Titan, take Eda now, she’s found her perfect match.

She’s still riding that high, not noticing Raine stopping until they tug on their clasped hands. “Hey, who’s that? Is he okay?”

Eda follows where they’re pointing their finger. It’s Hunter, slumped against the base of an oak tree, fast asleep. His chin is tipped forward and a book open on his chest, and even more strangely, there’s a small pile of leaves on his lap.

“Oh, that’s just my—” Eda stops herself, the word catching in her throat. Hunter was a child in her care, yes, but he wasn’t quite her kid. Not like Luz or King. The blond witch was still too jumpy, baring his teeth and snarling at anything that tried to get close to him.

He calls her Miss Clawthorne, for Titan’s sake.

“—Hunter,” Eda finishes lamely.

Raine raises an eyebrow. “Your Hunter?”

“He’s uhhh, one of Luz’s friends who just so happens to be living with us. Not a big thing.”

Raine shoots her a deadpan look but strides forward anyway, kneeling next to the sleeping blond. They keep their voice to a low murmur, “Should we wake him? That can’t be comfortable for his neck. He’ll probably be sore later.”

“Eh, let him rest. This is more sleep than he usually gets.” Eda steps closer, kneeling down on his other side. It’s the side that has his scar, the slightly raised red tissue standing out even more so than usual now that he wasn’t constantly moving. She’s almost asked him how he got it, but he’s clearly sensitive about the subject. She’s seen the similar marks on his arms, and something tells her there are a whole lot more scars that he’s hiding.

It doesn’t take a genius to figure out who gave them to him.

Still, it’s hard to ignore just how young he looks. When he’s stripped of all of his snappy comebacks, quick defenses, and that guarded demeanor Belos forced onto him, he’s reduced to exactly what he should be:

A kid.

“Oh!” Raine startles in surprise. Eda looks up to see the cardinal palisman fluttering down from above them, carrying a few leaves in its beak. It hops down onto Hunter’s lap and deposits the leaves in the little growing pile on his leg.

A smile worms its way onto Eda’s face. She runs a finger across the little bird’s head, “Trying to keep him warm, huh?” The bird lets out a trilling note of confirmation. She lets the bird be, turning back to Raine, “I think Rascal’s got this covered. If he hasn’t come in before nightfall I’ll come out and get ‘em.”

The bard casts one last glance down at the sleeping boy before they stand. “Y’know, he kind of reminds me of someone.”

“Oh yeah?” Eda weaves her arm through Raine’s as the pair reassumes their walk.

“Yeah,” Raine hums. “He kind of has the same build as someone I met when I was held hostage in the Emperor’s palace. The Golden Guard. Did you hear that he ran away from the palace? There've been rumors that the Emperor himself is tearing apart the Right Arm looking for him.”

“Uh, about that...”

Raine stops, turning to look at her square in the face. Eda gives them a sheepish, toothy grin.

“Oh my god,” Raine says. “You adopted the Golden Guard?”

“Hey now, adopted is a very strong word—”

The bard cuts her off with a delighted laugh. “How am I not surprised?” Eda feels heat rise to her face, but can’t help but return Raine’s infectious smile. “Only you, Eda. Only you.”

3.

The third time it happens, Eda’s passing through the upstairs hallway, intent on curling up into her nest for an afternoon nap of her own. She hears a shuffling noise as she passes by the glorified storage closet that they gave Hunter as a room, and can’t resist a peek inside.

What she finds is definitely…not what she was expecting. Hunter is laying flat on his back on the floor, his feet elevated on the little cot they’d given him. Yeesh, that couldn’t be comfortable. Soft snores woosh past his open lips, his face turned toward a crystal ball that’s playing some cartoon he must have been watching before he fell asleep.

His body is nearly covered in stuffed animals.

“King,” Eda hisses. The horned perpetrator is in the middle of dumping his entire army onto the blond witch’s chest, pinning down his arms with plushies. “What did I tell you about burying people alive?”

The demon pauses from where he’s been slowly arranging his army over Hunter’s sleeping form. “He’s got plenty of room to breathe! I didn’t cover his face,” King protests. “Can’t subjugate someone who’s dead.”

“No subjugating—” your brother, she almost says, “—Hunter.”

King squints at her, but then grumbles and starts slowly taking the stuffed animals off the boy’s body. Crisis averted, Eda slips back out into the hall, mind swirling. That was the second time she’d almost referred to Hunter as hers in passing. The feeling is too raw to speak out loud yet, but there’s a growing warmth in her as she watches Hunter acclimate to his surroundings in the Owl House. With every day that goes by, he’s more comfortable around her, around Luz and King and Hooty, and he’s starting to come out of his shell. He’s growing softer, less quick to snarl, becoming more Hunter and less Golden Guard.

Unconsciously, Eda’s started viewing him as part of their little family. Two weeks ago, that thought would have made her uncomfortable. Now, she welcomes it with open arms.

Ugh, she’s getting so soft.

4.

The fourth time it happens is when Eda’s flying home from visiting Lilith. She’s only been gone for the day, and is hoping that leaving Luz in charge hasn’t led to any freak fires, the resurrection of the dead, or other various natural disasters. Unfortunately, even her most responsible kid is pretty reckless, so Eda’s expectations are set pretty low.

It’s probably sometime around 2 a.m. when she makes it home sweet home. She swoops in close, intent on landing on the front door but stilling mid-air when she sees something on the roof of the tower. Even from up here, it’s not hard to distinguish the form of a looming body.

Eda’s heart leaps into her throat and she takes Owlbert down into a dive. Her body is tense when she lands, her staff already aimed toward the person lurking by the edge of the roof. “Alright listen bucko, you better step back or—wait.” She sees what looks like a lump of feathers sitting on top of the person’s head, and Eda squints in the darkness. She quickly pulls out a light glyph, sending the tiny ball of sun forward.

“Hunter?!” Eda’s tense posture relaxes. The kid doesn’t answer, and it takes her a beat to figure out why. He’s dead asleep, slumped precariously over the telescope they use for stargazing. Eda has no idea how he’s even standing at all. Kid probably had a ton of practice of falling asleep on his feet during long, boring meetings with the Emperor.

“Wakey, wakey.” She places her hand on his shoulder, gently, but he wakes up with a full-body jerk, startling the palisman on top of his head. The cardinal chirps once in irritation, fluttering to rest on Eda’s shoulder instead.

Hunter’s eyes are wild for a moment until he seems to register where he is and who he’s with. He relaxes then, letting out a yawn so huge it would put any lion to shame. “…Eda?”

“The one and only,” Eda says, ignoring how her heart squeezes at the kid finally calling her by her name. “Wanna tell me why you’re up here in the middle of the night?”

“Waitin’ for you,” he mumbles, voice rough with sleep. His eyelids drop and he sways dangerously on his feet. “Wanted to… t’make sure y’got home safe.”

The warmth in her chest expands and eclipses her entire body in that fuzzy feeling she gets whenever one of her kids does something particularly adorable. Thank Titan it’s dark and Hunter is too out of it to notice the smile that spreads across her face. If he was fully awake, Eda gets the feeling that A) he probably never would have admitted that he was worried about her, and B) would have snapped at her for smiling at him like that. “Well, I’m home now, so let’s get you to bed before you topple over.”

Eda wraps her arm around his waist and nudges him along, practically carrying him back downstairs, their palismen following close behind. She doesn’t mind. Someone had to make sure he didn’t fall off the roof.

“Night, kid,” she says, tucking him under the blankets on his cot. Hunter doesn’t respond, already having slipped back into unconsciousness. And if she brushes his bangs tenderly out of his face, no one ever has to be the wiser.

5.

The fifth time it happens, Eda’s gotten used to it. It's not that Hunter doesn’t sleep, she’s come to realize. He just falls asleep in weird places. Why, she has no idea, but honestly, the kid looked so tired all the time, she wasn’t going to question it. They had bigger things to worry about.

The Day of Unity is just around the corner, and Belos has become more irritating than ever.

Eda hadn’t even thought that was possible for him, but apparently, it was. The scouts around Bonesborough have tripled, their captains leading more and more raids, butting into shops to check everyone’s papers, and invading random districts.

Oddly, Belos’s priorities seem to have shifted. He’s still sending out grunts to round up any wild witches, but the guards have been playing a weird sort of hide-and-seek, going beyond just patrolling the marketplaces to actually tearing into people’s homes. From what she’s heard, the guards never take anything, just searching the place top-to-bottom before leaving empty-handed and moving on to the next house.

Belos was looking for something.

And unfortunately, Eda’s got a pretty good idea of what he’s after.

Said thing just so happens to be slumped across from her at the kitchen table, dead to the world. It’s late into the night, and most of the kids have already gone to sleep. Too on edge to lie down, Eda’s been keeping herself busy by concocting more potions while the late-night news plays on her crystal ball in the background.

Hunter, striving to be helpful, volunteered to stay up and help.

It wasn’t long before the kid slowly started to nod off, face supported by his palm as his eyelids started to droop. He’d been in the middle of mixing two ingredients—highly flammable ingredients, mind you—and Eda plucked the vials out of his lax grip just in time. Honestly, it was a miracle the kid never killed himself in the Emperor’s Coven with how randomly he falls asleep.

He probably never got the chance to sleep at all, a voice reminds her. She remembers how dead-exhausted Lily was during her first few days at the Owl House. It was probably safe to assume that the Emperor had a habit of running the head of his Coven into the ground.

Hunter has been picking up on Belos’s tightening grip, too. He’s been getting quieter, more reserved. He’s come to the same conclusion that Eda has: the Emperor was tearing apart the whole of the Isles to get him back.

Why, though, is anyone’s guess. Hunter has long since explained that his uncle always said that the Titan had big plans for him, and it probably has something to do with the Day of Unity, but beyond that, the Emperor had always kept him in the dark. Luz has a crazy theory involving clones and blood magic, but that sounds like it’s a plot point straight out of one of her Azura books. King thinks Belos wants his artificial staff back, and Hooty predicts the Emperor is just sad because all his Coven leaders are leaving him to join Hooty’s superior best friends club.

Whatever the reason, Eda’s made it pretty clear that she’s not gonna bend to Belos’s intimidation tactics and turn him over. That smarmy gold jerk could set the whole Isles on fire and Eda still wouldn’t hand him over. Hunter’s part of the Bad Girl’s Coven now, and Belos can just suck it. And she’s not afraid to say that to his stupid face, either.

So when the cauldron at the end of the table that holds the scrying potion suddenly begins bubbling on its own, Eda may very well get her chance.

She’s up on her feet in an instant, dashing to the other end of the table just as the steam rising off the potion begins to warp into a familiar figure.

“Edalyn,” Belos greets, his voice sharp like a dagger. “I do hope I’m not interrupting your evening, but I needed a word with you.”

Ugh, scrying potions weren’t supposed to work both ways! Belos was too damn powerful. He could probably peer into their lives as much as they could peer into his.

“Sorry, but now’s a bad time,” Eda shoots back. “Why don’t you hang up and call back literally never?”

“It’s come to my attention that you have something of mine,” the masked man continues smoothly as if she hadn’t spoken. “I’d ever so appreciate it if you gave it back.”

Eda’s lip curls back, feeling the itch of feathers poking out of her joints. She wants to shift into her harpy form and leap through the potion to claw out his eyes. “Sorry, Belos,” she says, dripping smug bravado, “We wild witches operate solely under the laws of finders keepers. Your kid? Mine now.”

Eda expects that the Emperor would very much like to vaporize her. “Make your threats wisely, Owl Lady. You have no idea what you’re up against. Everything will be easier for you and your little friends if you just hand the boy back over to me.”

“Fat chance.” Eda throws back her shoulders and shoots him a sharp grin. “Sounds to me like you’re threatening one of my kids, and we weirdos stick together. Going after one of us is basically asking for all of us to bring you down. Remember how well that went last time? How my human cracked your mask and publicly humiliated you during your big let’s-turn-Eda-to-stone ceremony?”

The Emperor looks as though he has some choice words to say, but Eda doesn’t care. Hunter is her kid now. She glowers at him through that mist, voice lowering in with deadly promise. “You’ll have to drag him back to your Coven over my dead body.”

“That can be arranged,” sneers Belos.

“Try me, antler boy.” Then Eda whacks the cauldron and sends it tipping over the edge of the table. The connection is immediately severed as the potion goes splattering over the hardwood, and the resounding CLANG of the bowl makes Hunter shoot violently out of sleep.

“Huh?! Whassit—Eda? What happened? Are you alright?”

“Fine, kid,” she says, swallowing down the rage that’s still bubbling hot in her throat. “’S alright, just got a little clumsy and knocked over a cauldron. Sorry for waking you.”

“Sorry for falling asleep,” Hunter responds. He grabs a towel and hurries to clean up the oozing purple goo.

Eda waves him off, “Eh, I don’t mind. You kids need your rest. Growing bodies and all that.”

Hunter still hesitates, looking at her for a beat too long as if double-checking to make sure she wasn’t really upset. Eda holds back a sigh, a twinge of pity flickering through her that he’d even have to look at her like that in the first place. All the damage from Belos couldn’t be wrapped up in a month, she supposed.

She snatches up the cauldron, still dripping with the ruined potion. Peachy. She’ll have to call Lilith to get her scrying potion recipe. Though maybe not having this in the house was a good idea. Eda doesn’t want to risk His Royal Highness dropping in on any more unexpected house calls.

“Eda?”

She looks up at Hunter. The kid chewing on his bottom lip, wringing the half-soiled towel between scarred hands.

“I just…I wanted to say thank you,” Hunter says shyly. “I know having me here hasn’t exactly been easy—not only because of the fugitive thing, but because I’m…” He flounders for a moment, and Eda can only pretend to know what’s going through his mind right now. “…me,” he finishes finally. “You’ve been so kind and patient with me, it’s so much more than I deserve, and no matter what happens next—”

“Hey, no.” Eda cuts him off with a swift and gentle beratement. She sets the cauldron on the table and crowds closer to him, curling one hand around his cheek. The kid automatically leans into the touch, and Eda can’t help but wonder how Belos could have ever hurt a child who was as sweet as this one.

“You may be one bratty little shit, but you’re my bratty little shit. And Mama says you deserve all the smothering that comes with being a child of the Owl Lady.”

Then, to prove her point, she swoops down and quickly places feather-light kisses on the tip of his nose, forehead, and his scar, until Hunter squawks and shoves her away. He’s practically glowing, flushed all the way to the tips of his ears.

“Gross,” he snaps, rubbing furiously at his face. “I’m never helping you with your potions ever again.”

“I’ll accept your terms. Now get upstairs, it’s way past your bedtime.”

“I don’t have a bedtime, I’m not a baby.” Hunter sticks out his tongue but obeys, slipping out of the kitchen and disappearing into the rest of the house. Eda shakes her head as she watches him go.

Kids. What could ya do with ‘em?

[urimaginespimp]

Gorgeous (pt2 of This Love)

Bucky x Elemental Witch Reader x platonic Steve

Setting is during Civil War

Read the prologue here to know about your character’s story.

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Midgardians were indeed strange. Natasha and the rest of the team did their best in making sure you would settle well with them, and so far, you were getting the hang of it. They were always amused watching you and Vision try to act what they call “normal.”  

Along with being introduced to everything was also knowing about your personal preferences. You love reading almost all kinds of books, and you found horror movies funny, especially the ones about possessions. You could almost hear the Norns that raised you snort at them. You also love exploring the numerous genres of music they have.  

Steve and you have become quite close, and his favorite pastime were telling you about his life before becoming the Captain America. His stories about a best friend he calls “Bucky” was your favorite. The man you’ve never met reminds you of your favorite men in the romance novels you’ve read – charming, handsome (you assumed), and he sounded kind. You were surprised when Steve told you about finding out that he was alive all this time after being brainwashed by Hydra. The captain still looks like he’s longing to get his friend back.  

Despite being over a century year old, the team treated you like a younger sister because of your naivety. Sam was like the bad influence brother - always teaching you about pranks.  Overall, you were settling just fine in the lifestyle you were only introduced into over a year ago.

The Norns have taught you that challenges and doom were always going to be lurking at every corner. Tony and Steve were currently in disagreement. World leaders were trying to get the team controlled and regulated. An explosion rocked in Vienna during a meeting, and some people are killed among them is the King of a place called Wakanda. Now the authorities were claiming the bomb was planted by the Winter Soldier – the man Steve has told you so much about.  

Now the team was divided, and you didn’t know where to place yourself. Your family was falling apart. You still weren’t considered a Midgardian and could easily leave Earth. You thought about reaching out to Thor, but how could you, when the same man who told you to reach him through e-mail, didn’t even have a phone? And Bruce himself was still nowhere to be found.  

Cap has assembled a team with Sam, Clint, Wanda, and an Ant guy you were yet to meet, to stop another man named Zemo. But by operating outside of authority, they all become renegades. You almost laughed when you heard that in Tony’s side was a Spider guy.  

Everyone was currently at an airport in Stuttgart, Germany. You were sitting on the roof of one of those ramps, looking over the team as Tony was still trying to negotiate with Steve. You noted the man with the metal arm standing next to him. So this must be Bucky. He was much more handsome as you imagined him to be – tall, piercing blue eyes and dark long hair. The girls you’ve met around the city would’ve gushed over him, joking about what they’d like to do with him. And you almost kicked yourself for agreeing with a conversation that hasn't even happen yet.

“You sure you want no part of this, princess?!” Tony called out to you, making everybody’s attention turn your way.

“Frankly I could’ve left, Tony.” You stated, looking over everyone, trying to take in that this may be the last time your family would be in the same room. “But I learned that Midgardians love blowing off steam. I’m just here to make sure nobody gets seriously injured.”  

“She’s not human?” you heard Steve’s friend ask him quietly. You heard him respond that it’s a long story. You shot the man a quick wink and a grin, making him cough in surprise.  

So what if you might have a little crush on the man? Technically, witches your age are still considered mentally young – almost comparable to a Midgardian in her 20s.  

A pitched battle breaks out, and as intended, you were going around making sure that nobody got gravely hurt.  

You were now running alongside Nat.  

“Is it weird that I may have a little crush on Steve’s friend?” you chimed.

“No surprise there. Is that why you refused to take sides?” She asked you, panting.

“Of course not, Nat. Plus you and Wanda are in different teams.”

“And?”

“We women should be sticking together. Leave the men acting childish.” you replied.

“Where’d you learn that?!” She was amused.

“I hang out with drunk women in club bathrooms!”  you exclaimed.  

You honestly thought Nat was intent on stopping Steve, but she took you all by surprise when she suddenly turns on Black Panther, allowing Cap and Bucky time to get in the Quinjet.

“You’re not even gonna introduce me?” you called him out.

“Not really the best time but Y/N, Bucky. Bucky, Y/N.” He hastily answered while getting in.

You and Bucky were staring at each other. He couldn’t quite decide whether to say to you. It was the first time a stranger was looking at him with glimmer in their eyes, as if she was genuinely glad to be introduced. And it was not the appropriate time.  

“I find you incredibly attractive.” You found yourself blurting out while gazing at him. You heard Nat snort behind you, and you almost laughed at how taken back Bucky looked.

“Uh... I’m too old for you.” He awkwardly replied, and you chuckled.

You were about to tell him that you’re older than he’ll ever be, but a groan from T’Challa snapped you all back.

“Alright, time to go. Nice first date, kids.” Steve called out from the pilot.

“I’ll see you again, soldier.” You gave him a genuine smile. He scratched the back of his neck and gave you a shy nod before turning back to take his seat.

“You should ask those girl friends of yours to teach Steve a thing or two with flirting.” Nat commented, giving you a sly smile.  

“Shut up, Nat. I wasn’t flirting.”

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It was no surprise when Steve sought you out to help him break the others from prison. The authorities didn’t know what to do with you, and you think it was because you never really broke any rules, you’re not from here, and they might be afraid of angering the god of thunder himself if they even touched you. So without thinking twice, you joined him.  

“So...” you thought about asking him what happened to Bucky.

“Can’t say I’m surprised that even a witch would be crushing on my best friend.” He chuckled. He was now flying you in the Quinjet to god knows where.

“I blame you, Steve. You kept talking about him.” You punched his arm gently.  

“If it helps, I think he finds you beautiful.”  

But before you could respond, your mouth went agape as the view of the forest around you suddenly became a whole other place full of beautiful infrastructures you’ve never seen before.

“Welcome to Wakanda, Y/N.” Steve told you when he noticed you’ve gone quiet.  

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Steve and you were welcomed by T’Challa and the princess named Shuri, and they escorted you both to what seemed to be a lab. Shuri was funny and you both hit it off immediately.  

Stopping just outside a bar, Shuri turned to you. “I’m hoping to see more of you, Y/N. Your boyfriend awaits you.” She snickered and left before you could say anything. Steve gave you a sheepish look and told you that when they were asking who he was bringing in for security purposes, he might have told them that you have a crush on their patient.  

Going in, you decided to stop by the doorway to assess everything.

“You sure about this?” You heard Steve asked someone, making you snap at their direction.  

Sitting on a small bed was Bucky. His metal arm was gone, and he was wearing a white top and pants.

“I can’t trust my own mind.” he replied, and turned to where you were standing, giving you a polite smile. “So until they figure out how to get this stuff out of my head, I think going back on there is the best thing for everybody.”

Steve nodded in understanding, and turned to you. “Are you just gonna stand there?” He asked you with a teasing smile.

“That depends if you only brought me here so you could properly embarrass me.” You replied, biting your cheek from smiling. He started walking back towards you with a small smile. Standing face to face, he started speaking a bit more quietly.  

“Well, yes.” He answered and you shook your head at him, chuckling. “But I also wanted to ask you something.”  

“Anything, Steve.” you nodded at him.

“Will... Will you uh- come back here if Shuri calls you that they’re finally waking him up? I’m just going to lay low for a bit, and I don’t know if I’d be still on the run when that happens.” he looked almost embarrassed to even ask you the favor, but before he could start rambling, you surprised him with a hug.  

“You’ve taught me so much, Steve. Of course, I’ll look after your hot friend.” you chuckled to mask that your eyes were brimming with tears. You were going to miss him.

Breaking off from the embrace, Steve cupped your face and wiped a stray tear on your cheek. “Don’t scare him off, okay. I don’t think he’d be able to handle how much bolder women are these days.” you rolled your eyes at him but proceeded to give him a small nod.  

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The lab was now preparing to put Bucky into a cryogenic sleep. When Steve left that morning, all he told him was that he was going to meet with a friend who might want to check out Wakanda. He didn’t expect that Steve meant you.  

When he first saw you at the airport, he was taken back to how beautiful you were. He’s seen attractive people around when he was trying to live like a civilian, but there was just something refreshing about you. As soon as it was implied that you weren’t actually from earth and that you were a witch, he settled with that explanation. Maybe being beautiful came with your power.

But then you unexpectedly winked at him and even said you find him attractive so unapologetically. He tried to be sly about asking Steve about you but it was obvious that he caught on and was beaming at him like crazy. He told him about you, how you were raised by Norns, that Thor took back with him to earth, and that you’ve spent the year knowing how to be like the humans.  

“She’s adapted to the world today better than I have, Buck.” Steve smiled at the thought of you. “I think she’d be the perfect teacher for you in the future.”  

He was watching as Steve talked to you by the doorway and when you hugged him and started crying. After Steve comforted you, you turned to look at him again, now a cheeky smile was on your face as you walked towards him.  

“I don’t think we’ve formally met. I’m Y/N.” You offered your hand for him to take.

“I’m James. Or you can call me whatever you’re comfortable with.” Your hand was soft and warm against his.

Steve heard what Bucky told you and flushed pink when he had an inkling to what you were going to respond to that. He could almost see you smirking.

“How about da-”

“Y/N NO.” Steve cut you off, fighting laugh. Bucky looked between the two of you, confused and intrigued at the same time.  

“Steve, I called you that one time.”  

“Those civilian friends of yours really should have more manners.” He shook his head at the memory of you calling him ‘daddy’ one morning after your friends told you to do so.

Turning back to the confused man before you, you gave him a full-blown smile. “I’ll call you by your name, Bucky.”  

“Are you going with Steve?” He asked you.

“Nope. I still might be here once you wake up.”

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