#Like I know that was that one passage in the notes 2 and maybe it was a metaphor for forgiving himself but NO what if it was literal.

[reasonsforhope]

No paywall version here.

"Two and a half years ago, when I was asked to help write the most authoritative report on climate change in the United States, I hesitated...

In the end, I said yes, but reluctantly. Frankly, I was sick of admonishing people about how bad things could get. Scientists have raised the alarm over and over again, and still the temperature rises. Extreme events like heat waves, floods and droughts are becoming more severe and frequent, exactly as we predicted they would. We were proved right. It didn’t seem to matter.

Our report, which was released on Tuesday, contains more dire warnings. There are plenty of new reasons for despair. Thanks to recent scientific advances, we can now link climate change to specific extreme weather disasters, and we have a better understanding of how the feedback loops in the climate system can make warming even worse. We can also now more confidently forecast catastrophic outcomes if global emissions continue on their current trajectory.

But to me, the most surprising new finding in the Fifth National Climate Assessment is this: There has been genuine progress, too.

I’m used to mind-boggling numbers, and there are many of them in this report. Human beings have put about 1.6 trillion tons of carbon in the atmosphere since the Industrial Revolution — more than the weight of every living thing on Earth combined. But as we wrote the report, I learned other, even more mind-boggling numbers. In the last decade, the cost of wind energy has declined by 70 percent and solar has declined 90 percent. Renewables now make up 80 percent of new electricity generation capacity. Our country’s greenhouse gas emissions are falling, even as our G.D.P. and population grow.

In the report, we were tasked with projecting future climate change. We showed what the United States would look like if the world warms by 2 degrees Celsius. It wasn’t a pretty picture: more heat waves, more uncomfortably hot nights, more downpours, more droughts. If greenhouse emissions continue to rise, we could reach that point in the next couple of decades. If they fall a little, maybe we can stave it off until the middle of the century. But our findings also offered a glimmer of hope: If emissions fall dramatically, as the report suggested they could, we may never reach 2 degrees Celsius at all.

For the first time in my career, I felt something strange: optimism.

And that simple realization was enough to convince me that releasing yet another climate report was worthwhile.

Something has changed in the United States, and not just the climate. State, local and tribal governments all around the country have begun to take action. Some politicians now actually campaign on climate change, instead of ignoring or lying about it. Congress passed federal climate legislation — something I’d long regarded as impossible — in 2022 as we turned in the first draft.

[Note: She's talking about the Inflation Reduction Act and the Infrastructure Act, which despite the names were the two biggest climate packages passed in US history. And their passage in mid 2022 was a big turning point: that's when, for the first time in decades, a lot of scientists started looking at the numbers - esp the ones that would come from the IRA's funding - and said "Wait, holy shit, we have an actual chance."]

And while the report stresses the urgency of limiting warming to prevent terrible risks, it has a new message, too: We can do this. We now know how to make the dramatic emissions cuts we’d need to limit warming, and it’s very possible to do this in a way that’s sustainable, healthy and fair.

The conversation has moved on, and the role of scientists has changed. We’re not just warning of danger anymore. We’re showing the way to safety.

I was wrong about those previous reports: They did matter, after all. While climate scientists were warning the world of disaster, a small army of scientists, engineers, policymakers and others were getting to work. These first responders have helped move us toward our climate goals. Our warnings did their job.

To limit global warming, we need many more people to get on board... We need to reach those who haven’t yet been moved by our warnings. I’m not talking about the fossil fuel industry here; nor do I particularly care about winning over the small but noisy group of committed climate deniers. But I believe we can reach the many people whose eyes glaze over when they hear yet another dire warning or see another report like the one we just published.

The reason is that now, we have a better story to tell. The evidence is clear: Responding to climate change will not only create a better world for our children and grandchildren, but it will also make the world better for us right now.

Eliminating the sources of greenhouse gas emissions will make our air and water cleaner, our economy stronger and our quality of life better. It could save hundreds of thousands or even millions of lives across the country through air quality benefits alone. Using land more wisely can both limit climate change and protect biodiversity. Climate change most strongly affects communities that get a raw deal in our society: people with low incomes, people of color, children and the elderly. And climate action can be an opportunity to redress legacies of racism, neglect and injustice.

I could still tell you scary stories about a future ravaged by climate change, and they’d be true, at least on the trajectory we’re currently on. But it’s also true that we have a once-in-human-history chance not only to prevent the worst effects but also to make the world better right now. It would be a shame to squander this opportunity. So I don’t just want to talk about the problems anymore. I want to talk about the solutions. Consider this your last warning from me."

-via New York Times. Opinion essay by leading climate scientist Kate Marvel. November 18, 2023.

#WE CAN DO THIS #I SO TRULY BELIEVE THAT WE CAN DO THIS #WE CAN SAVE OURSELVES AND THE WORLD ALONG WITH US #climate crisis #united states #climate change #conservation #hope posting #sustainability #climate news #climate action #climate emergency #fossil fuels #global warming #environmentalism #climate hope #solarpunk #climate optimism #climate policy #earth #science #climate science #meteorology #extreme weather #renewable energy #solar power #wind power #renewables #carbon emissions #climate justice

[cbrownjc]

"I'm the quiet you've been longing for." Or, in other words, Gentleman Death.

So yeah, there are people, rightly, laughing at Armand calling himself the "quiet" that Daniel's been longing for because if you know anything about their relationship, particularly with how it started, it was anything but quiet. Quite the opposite in fact.

But see, I think, when it comes to the moment in the image above, that is actually the whole point. Because this moment isn't from some point when they are romantically together. I think this moment is from when they first really meet and speak to each other after Polynesian Mary's. More importantly, I think this is sometime after Armand had stopped Louis from killing Daniel.

There is a great observation/analysis post here that notes the clothes both Armand and young Daniel are wearing, and how they match up to what they were wearing that night when they first encountered each other at Polynesian Mary's. So this moment above being either later that same night, or maybe even the next night after Louis attacked Daniel matches up.

And this moment is very much Armand offering Daniel an "easeful death." Namely, killing him, probably because of what happened with Louis. Armand likely only stopped Louis from doing so because he knew Louis would feel guilty about it later, as Louis doesn't actually like to know anything about his victims before he kills them. So Armand likely stepped in and stopped Louis to spare him from that and such guilt.

However, Armand probably also thinks Daniel now knows too much to risk letting him live. And so is going to kill him himself. And I think what we are seeing here, above, is one of the ways Armand will sometimes present himself to his victims. And I think it is something he learned from Lestat, which is to be "Gentleman Death."

It's been noted by the writers of the show that they were looking to drawn things from Anne Rice's short story, Interlude with the Undead, for Armand in Season 2. (A short story, btw, which you can read online here and here.) And, of course, the line about "easeful death" that we hear in the trailer can be found in that short story, not once but twice:

But if you notice, during the first passage, Armand also talks about being "Gentleman Death." The same exact thing Lestat said to Armand to explain his outlook on being a vampire during the time period when they first met; and basically upending Armand's entire worldview (and cult) under Les Innocents.

From The Vampire Lestat:

From Interlude with the Undead:

From the opening of Interlude with the Undead, we know that this whole short story was actually Louis telling Daniel something Armand had told him. Well, I think not only has the show cut out the middleman on that, but I think what they are about to do is show how very much Armand, in his own way, embraced Lestat's Gentleman Death mission statement for a time. Probably for a long time.

In the show, I think we are going to see Lestat give Armand his Gentleman Death monologue during the scene when these two images happen:

And I think, by the time Louis encounters Armand in Paris, we will see that he has, in his own ways and methods, adapted to that ethos of being Gentleman Death.

However, time does march on. And I do think Armand will begin to see presenting himself as such is beginning to not fit with the times he is now in. But it will still be one of the things he still will present himself as.

At least until Daniel.

Because I really do think when Armand presents himself in this way to Daniel, being a "quiet" (ie death) that he says Daniel has been longing for? Daniel is going to flat-out reject that.

Because Daniel doesn't want to die, no matter how many drugs he takes or the reckless behavior he may sometimes exhibit (during this point in time). What Daniel really wants is to live forever. The reason Louis attacked Daniel as he did was because Daniel asked Louis to make him immortal.

Death? Quiet? Hell no. Give Daniel Molloy immortality, thank you!

So Daniel is going to ask the same thing of Armand he asked of Louis. Which is for Armand to make him immortal.

And just like in the book? Armand is, at first, going to be taken aback. And then, intrigued by this brash (and beautiful) human:

This human whom Armand is sure is going to go completely mad at some point by the knowledge that vampires actually exist. But hasn't gone mad, no not yet:

So yeah, I feel that the "quiet you've been longing for" moment in the trailer is the moment when Armand presents himself as his own version of "Gentleman Death" and it flat-out doesn't work, probably for the first time ever. And that it doesn't work with Daniel is what starts The Chase between them in the show's universe; the show leaving out the 3-days or so that Armand locked Daniel in a cage before that, of course.

And all because of something Armand has been doing since Lestat first upended his life under Les Innocents centuries ago did not work on this one particular mortal. So, instead, Armand let him go to chase him instead.

And to hell with trying to seduce this human with promises of "quiet" because that sure as hell didn't work last time.

#Armand #The Vampire Armand #Daniel Molloy #Lestat de Lioncourt #Devil's Minion #The Devil's Minion #Interlude with the Undead #The Vampire Lestat #Interview with the Vampire #amc iwtv #iwtv #iwtv meta #iwtv Season 2 #iwtv Season 2 speculation #Daniel Malloy

[svsss-fanon-exposed]

Exposing SVSSS Fanon: 2/∞

SHEN JIU VISITS BROTHELS ONLY TO SLEEP AND NOT FOR SEX

Rating: FANON - SUPPORTED

It is a widely-held belief in the fandom that Shen Jiu only visits brothels to sleep and for comfort, and never has sex with the women. However, the only thing that is directly stated is that his purpose for visiting brothels is for seeking the company of women, and because he feels more comfortable around women than men.

 Though Shen Qingqiu was unpopular among his peers, it wasn’t to the extent of being kicked out of the communal sleeping quarters. He just loathed being in close quarters with those of the same sex... ...Liking women wasn’t the least bit shameful, but treating women like saviors, cowering within their embrace and seeking courage from them…even without anyone saying it, Shen Qingqiu knew that was horrendously shameful.

There is nowhere that directly states he does not have sex while at the Warm Red Pavillion. In fact, after Yue Qingyuan sends Liu Qingge away during the confrontation, it states that:

One person’s [SQQ] clothes were mussed and disheveled, while the other’s [YQY] had not a thread out of place. 

It's often argued that the dishevelled and undressed state (a few paragraphs later, Shen Qingqiu is putting his outer clothes back on) is due to Shen Qingqiu having a fight with Liu Qingge, however, in this scene, Yue Qingyuan is able to stop the fight before Shen Qingqiu can even draw his sword, or before an intense fight can occur.

Yue Qingyuan saw that the situation didn’t look good and pressed Shen Qingqiu’s elbow downward, preventing him from drawing his sword.

It's important to note that it is uncertain whether the two had already come to blows at this point, or if Yue Qingyuan was able to prevent any sort of physical fight from occuring. It is also uncertain whether Shen Qingqiu's state of undress and dishevelment is from sleeping at the brothel, fighting with Liu Qingge, or the earlier fight with BZP disciple Ji Jue, which we do know actually came to blows-- maybe it is a combination of the three.

Therefore, it cannot be said with certainty that Shen Jiu does not have sex with the women at Warm Red Pavilion. However, even if Shen Jiu had undressed to sleep there, it still doesn't mean that he had sex. There's just as much, if not more likelihood that it is only for companionship. He is never described as being fully undressed, so while he probably didn't remove his outer robe just for a fight with Bai Zhan Peak, he was still wearing his inner clothes, which would be normal for simply sleeping in.

There is more evidence that he does not have sex with the women at WRP than otherwise, however, especially when considering the infamous exchange between SQH and SQQ in Bai Lu Forest:

Shen Qingqiu asked. “And where am I supposed to find a male virgin’s pee out in the middle of nowhere?” Once these words left his mouth, he realized that Shang Qinghua was gazing intently at him. “Why are you looking at me?! As for my former self—let’s not talk about that for now. You wrote Shen Qingqiu’s original character yourself. He’s unsullied without, degenerate within, always burning with lust. He had an affair in his youth and sought prostitutes as an adult. You think I’m still a virgin? And don’t point at yourself, Shang Qinghua was written the same way.”

Though with this passage one can make a fairly good argument that Shen Jiu was a virgin, since Shang Qinghua never directly refuted what Shen Qingqiu was saying, it still cannot be said with complete certainty.

The accusation that Shen Jiu was a lecher who was visiting brothels simply to satisfy his lust is canonically false. The real reason that Shen Jiu visited brothels was to seek comfort. However, it is not explicitly stated that the comfort he sought out never included sexual relations, which could still be seen as part of that comfort.

In conclusion, it is fairly likely that Shen Jiu did not have sex at brothels, and only slept there, however, since only the intention was disproved in canon, and not the actions themselves, it cannot be stated as a directly-confirmed, canonical fact and may be interpreted otherwise.

#svsss #shen jiu #fanon exposed #supported

[foranpo]

ੈ˚☆ how they look at you.

fandom: bungou stray dogs.

characters: ranpo, dazai, akutagawa.

reader: gn!

genre: headcanons.

content: fluff.

word count: ~320 each // ~800 total

cole's note: u can clearly see that i wrote this on 3 different days lmao anyways i was going to add 2 more characters, but i was afraid to abandon the project completely if i waited for inspiration, so i decided to post it now and maybe i later i do a part 2 w the others who know ?? well enjoy ig <3

ੈ♡˳────── enjoy the reading <3 ──────

˚ʚ ranpo.

as if the sunset were eternal.

a mixture of admiration and envy shone in Ranpo's eyes every time he looked at you, knowing perfectly well that someone as beautiful, as ethereal as you, could very well conquer the world if so desired; an extreme happiness settled in Ranpo with the certainty that the beauty of your nature would never be extinguished, a hope growing in him with the wisdom that your essence would roam the universe for eternities in a row, the passion that existed between you to be a little dust in the middle of all the stars that you were sure you would create.

it was impossible for Ranpo not to smile when he looked at you, all his intelligence and deduction seeming so small when compared with your beauty, with your soul, with your heart. looking at you, Ranpo was sure that multitudes were contained within you, poetry and magic clinging to your lips with the eagerness to be sung by you, stories of past loves and lives lived to beautify your soul, and Ranpo swore, Ranpo knew, that he had been present at all of them.

Ranpo looked at you with the certainty of the eternity of your beauty, with the certainty that your essence would forever mark this world of ours, far beyond your departure; he looked at you like someone looks at a sunset: in love with your colorful soul, fascinated by your tender heart, enchanted by your entire existence.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ dazai.

as if spring would never end.

a feeling of being at home settled in Dazai every time your arms received him when the days were longer and the nights were colder; finally, Dazai had found his haven, the warmth that emanated from you snuggling him in his roughest moments, the definition of the word 'home' seeming deeper, more magical, when your presence was noticed in Dazai's life.

a new set of colors has emerged in Dazai's heart; yellows mixed with purples that painted the most beautiful sunrises, all the blues and greens dancing in unison in so many forests and oceans, a whole new world looking brighter, more vivid -all because you were in it. Dazai knew that you were the bearer of all the beauty in the world: no matter how corrupted your heart was with the malice of the world, no matter how black your soul might appear when you woke up, for Dazai, you would always be the one carrying the color palette of the world.

Dazai looked at you with the lightness of a new chosen dream, with the conviction that all the flowers would bloom with your every step, all the birds singing romantic songs just for you; he looked at you the way someone admires spring: hopeful for better days with your ever-present laugh, snuggled by the light you radiated so naturally, grateful to be alive at the same time as you.

ੈ♡˳─────────────────────

˚ʚ akutagawa.

as if there was still hope.

Akutagawa had already given up searching. living for years in a bubble of darkness, totally surrounded by nothing but the lingering nightmares and the constant reminder of the malice, the corruption, the negativity of this world, Akutagawa just wanted some peace, serenity, something to calm him down, even if it was just for one night; there was no color, there was no joy, there was no escape route, the small pleasures he had found seeming insignificant with the passage of time, with the lack of a safe harbor to welcome him and protect him from his own mind, from the his own past, from his own self.

but all it took was for Akutagawa to look at you, all it took was for him to notice your presence, and the whole world stopped being so heavy. with words woven from the most beautiful poetry, with laughter stolen from the most beautiful stars, you were not afraid to radiate the light that painted Akutagawa's life, your warm nature breaking the dark prison that held Akutagawa hostage for years. simple gestures from you filled Akutagawa's day, simple words from you filled his heart, your simple presence being enough for Akutagawa to believe he was worthy of the happiness he was constantly running from.

Akutagawa looked at you with the shyness of a first love, always afraid to say the wrong thing and see you disappear from his life, taking with you all your light, all your goodness, all your essence; he looked at you the way someone admires shooting stars: silently, alone, without any sense of reality, but always with the hope, with the wish, that tomorrow would never come, so that he could enjoy the night, your presence, that moment, with you for all eternity.

ੈ♡˳───── feedback is appreciated <3 ─────

#;bungou stray dogs constellation; #ranpo x reader #ranpo fluff #ranpo headcanons #dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai headcanons #akutagawa x reader #akutagawa fluff #akutagawa headcanons #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs x reader #bsd headcanons #bungou stray dogs headcanons

[cecilioque]

Adaman the Symbol of Time

 p(An Analysis on the character design of Adaman from Pokemon Legends of Arceus and it’s relation to time and art history.)

A lot of the characters form PLA are similar in terms of design. The characters that do not follow the standard hoodies, tunics, guild jumpsuits ,and kimonos have a lot of interesting art history associated with them.  I love Adaman’s design in particular since he is literally a symbol of time. 

Well...isn’t this obvious since he is the Diamond Clan leader and associated with Dialga? Yes, but there is a lot more subtle aspects to his design that link him with a specific form or Japanese Art.  But let’s first look at the obvious references to Dialga .

In Adaman’s design they use a lot of blues and and silver that you can see shared with Dialga.  They also use the Diamond clan symbol that is shaped to look like Dialga’s chest gem repeatedly in the coat and accessories.  Adaman’s coat/jacket is most likely a nod to the Japanese Haori.  It is even tied with a fancy beaded Himo chord to keep it closed. If you look at the shoes you can see in the concept art that even the bottom of them are supposed to look like Dialga’s feet in their regular form and on the top of the shoe like the legendary Pokemon’s face.  All this information is very interesting and nice seeing how the character and the Pokemon are related even thematically.  

However, it’s crossed your mind (even briefly) that Adaman’s design is not directly one to one with Dialga. He isn’t a Dialga gijinka. There are elements and colors that Adaman uses that the legendary Pokemon does not.  We can brush it off as Adaman having a flair and his importance as a Diamond Clan leader to set him apart. But this is where it gets interesting. His outfit is generally just fashionable and we can choose to look at it like that on a surface level.  But if you look deeper you see a more symbolic meaning.

Adaman is Kintsugi . What is that? Kintsugi is a Japanese art technique that repairs pottery using lacquer and gold dust.  Adaman also has similar gold veins running through his clothing.  For someone who is so “put together” looking, why would you intentionally create jagged and uneven elements other than for aesthetic? This is because for my understanding, this is yet another way the character designer chose to express Adaman’s connection to time.

Kintsugi is a beautiful form of art and philosophy.  The idea is not to hide the cracks and flaws, but to turn it into something more beautiful and strong.  It represents the passage of time and a documentation of the harsh conditions in which we pass through. But ultimately it is a celebration of survival and growth.  It is also a metaphor for embracing your flaws and imperfections.

One translation defines the word  kintsugi as golden “golden seams”. So, Adaman is kind of a symbol of kintsugi pottery and philosophy.  The part about this design that confused me the most was his hair since it’s also not standard colored and is quite unique. But I realized that if we are equating him to pottery, the hair might be colored that way to imitate pottery glazes (the stuff they put on ceramics to give it color.)

On another interesting note, Adaman has lots of signs of past injury. We see this with the bandages on his arms and hands, the cut brow which is a remnant of injury and survival, and then the very intentional jagged gold claw marks on his back.  The back gold lines are sharp looking and contrast with the rest of the designs which is fluid and rounded.  It’s bringing attention to the marks.

Image sources: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4 / 5 / 6

We can interpret a lot from this design. It also raises many questions. The jagged golden marks and Adaman’s bandaged arms implies that he has been “damaged” or “broken” in some sense. This could be taken literally or symbolically. We don’t know what happened to him.  Maybe he was attacked by an alpha Pokemon and survived a severe injury that he now incorporates into this aesthetic as a way to show that he was able to come back from that.  Or maybe it’s referring to his leadership as a young Diamond Clan leader and the mistakes he made and had to learn from. 

So in conclusion. From what I can understand , if we were to wrap up all the motifs, Adaman’s design ultimately seems to just represent a passage of time. Breakage and repair are just proof of time passing and represent history and life. And I think that is really cool.  

These are all my speculations and none of it is canon you can disagree if you want. These are just things I have observed and made note of that I believe makes the character far more interesting and fleshed out.  There is a lot of deep and meaningful things you can pull from this if you want to expound further through fanart and fanfic.  

EDITS/NOTES:

So a lot of people asked if the arm and hand wraps are for fighting. They aren’t. In every form of fighting and martial arts that involves wrapping(taping) your knuckles, you wrap between each finger and around your knuckles several times to cushion them.  You do their for wrist stability, prevent injury, and joint restriction.  Failing to wrap your hands correctly will result in fractures, broken fingers and knuckles, and metal carpet boss.  Not only are Adaman’s knuckles exposed when he clenches his fists, there is no wrapping supporting his wrists on the left hand.  If he is wrapping them to fight, he is doing a very bad job at it.

I did research on this before writing the initial post and came to this conclusion, but I guess I’ll add it now for those that had questions.

Another interesting note is that the Diamond Clan symbol also looks like a stylized version of the characters for gold.  This same character also does appear in the work kintsugi.

Adaman’s name is interesting too since it’s not really a common name.  In fact, it seems to be a play on word “adamant” which usually refers to someone who is not willing to change their mind or opinion.  HOWEVER , Adamant is an archaic diamond found in Greek/Roman mythology.  It is a bit of a legendary diamond of sorts. The name is derived from the Greek word for diamond. “adámas”.

If you remember, in the Diamond and Pearl games you can use the “Adamant Orb” to increase the dragon/steel type moves of Dialga by 20% if they hold it. In Pokemon Legends Arceus you can get the “Adament Crystal from Adaman.  This can be used to switch Dialga between Origin and normal form.  

Also random interesting thought. The diamond clan settlement is located in the crimson mirelands. Out of the different areas, this one has the most ideal conditions to create pottery clay next to bodies of water (Lake valor) , the scarlet bog, and the mountainous areas surrounding the settlement. Very similar to the Mashiko and Hagi pottery villages in japan.

#adaman #pokemon adaman #pokemon legends #PLA #legends arceus #dialga #just my thoughts.

[bonefall]

Hey Bones! Sorry if this is a bit random to ask you, but-

Is it ok if you elaborate and/or explain how Millie is ableist towards Briarlight please?

I haven’t really heard much people within the fandom talk about Millie’s treatment of Briarlight and her disability as negative and/or bad compared to Millie not really paying attention to Blossomfall within the books.

So I’m interested what you know and/or have to say about it.

OH boy, I feel like this one is REALLY easy to see if you just pop the book open. It will make your skin crawl once you see these quotes. Millie is an AWFUL mother and SHOCKING in how nasty she is to her disabled child.

I run in some pretty good circles and curate my Tumblr experience well, so I see plenty of people just mentioning it as a fucked up thing the series did casually, but I'll make a compilation of the worst of it.

(CW for some serious ableism, Millie is terrible.)

She's injured in Chapter 11 of OotS Book 2: Fading Echoes, and Millie is obsessive over her until Chapter 9 of OotS Book 3: Night Whispers. She's interfering with Jayfeather's treatments, constantly in the den, shouting at him when he tries to be honest about Briarlight's condition.

But that would be understandable. She's concerned and the prognosis isn't great. Her very young, athletic daughter (basically 17-ish) has suddenly received a life-altering injury that will drastically affect her life. Until Night Whispers Chapter 9, she's just worrying about her daughter.

And then we get this.

(Please note this is happening in front of the entire Clan. The entire social group is watching this.)

Though Briarlight expressed frustration with her exercises and how painful and difficult recovery was in Fading Echoes, that is not the case in Night Whispers. At this point, it's difficult but Briarlight is recovering well. MILLIE decides that her daughter being alive with a disability is suffering.

Note how in this exchange, Jayfeather is being forced to comfort Briarlight's MOTHER. Not BRIARLIGHT herself, the one with the injury who is looking at a massive upheaval to her life. Though superficially it seems like this is coming from a place of love, Millie is making Briarlight's recovery about herself by doing this, and this exchange is ableist.

Millie: "I want her to do all of these able-bodied things."

Jay: "That will not happen, but life has inherent value."

Millie: "No it doesn't, if you cannot do those able-bodied things, you are suffering."

But it gets worse because it's not even that she's only expressing this in private. Her daughter is within earshot. The newly disabled person is listening to their own fucking mother call her medical treatment "dragging out her suffering."

BURN this passage into your mind. Having heard her OWN FUCKING MOTHER cry to a crowd of cats that maybe it would be better if she was DEAD, watching several cats drop everything to comfort HER for having a disabled daughter, Briarlight has to drag herself out and act like a cute baby to get her to stop making a public spectacle.

It's hard to describe to someone who hasn't been in the situation before, but if your parent is making a scene like that, it'll end up falling onto you to "appeal" to their sense of... parental valor, is the best way I can put it. "See? Aren't I getting better? I promise I'll work hard. I'm not hurt it's okay! Everything is fine!" You give them a chance to affirm how good of a parent they are, for helping you, or 'putting up' with you. You have to assure them that your existence isn't so bad.

In essence, it falls onto the child to comfort their parent.

This is specifically a form of a toxic family dynamic called emotional parentification, on top of it being obviously ableist. She is being shoved into a position where she needs to sacrifice her OWN need for support and comfort to coddle her parent, to STOP her from making a scene, while that parent screams that her disabled life is worth less than her siblings' abled ones to a crowd of cats.

Naturally, this affects Briarlight's sense of self-worth. She stops eating.

Thankfully, Jayfeather is here to have an exchange about how her life has value. For all my issues with Jayf in later arcs, he has some of his best moments here in OotS.

In later books, Briarlight's struggles with self-worth continue. It's all shit that Millie implied about her being less useful because she is unable to do what her siblings can.

It's every other cat who has to come in and assure Briarlight that she isn't worthless. Not Millie. Millie comes on screen and she's either making Briarlight feel like garbage or barking at Jayfeather for not doctoring hard enough.

She desperately craves independence. This above scene is happening because she wanted to come out into the woods for the first time in forever, and she's being suffocated and bossed around in the camp constantly. It was up to her brother, Bumblestripe, to do anything to help her.

Not her dad. Not her mom. Bumblestripe. (Rare Bumblestripe W)

I also want to take a brief moment to point out a detail that the fandom often forgets, about Blossomfall. She actually knows full well that her feelings are unreasonable here, and she believes that the fact she isn't feeling "what she is supposed to" is proof that she is a bad person who deserves hell.

Millie's actions are crushing ALL of her children under its weight. Briarlight is obviously getting the worst of it, but these are YOUNG adults, just out of apprenticeship, and Blossomfall is being told that her sister is in a constant state of "suffering." This means she's not allowed to be frustrated about how Millie is behaving, because hating THAT means you hate your sister, and that makes her an awful person.

What Blossomfall is describing here is the feelings associated with being a glass child.

But no it's not JUST that she's being neglectful to Blossomfall, who yes, is a young adult and can take responsibility for her own actions. Millie is being nasty to Bloss too, directly comparing her to Briarlight and unironically doing the "You should be GRATEFUL you can walk when BRIARLIGHT WOULD DO ANYTHING TO LEGS AROUND."

Again. I'll state the very obvious from the passage.

"Hey Millie, your other daughter looks kinda upset right now!" = "PERFECT TIME TO SNAP AT HER"

Blossomfall = Wasted her morning when she should be Useful

Useful = Can hunt

"YOUR SISTER wouldn't act like this"

Proper warrior = spends every waking minute in service of the clan

Once again, Millie does this in public, with several people watching her rip into her child. She even gets ANGRY at Brackenfur gently trying to soften the blow. It's freakjob shit to hear, "h-hey, at least they're safe!" and SNARL back "IS IT?"

Millie continues to hover over Briarlight well into Bramblestar's Storm. The closure for these intense, insulting comments, public embarrassments, snapping at and neglecting one child while telling the other one that her life was "suffering" because she can't walk is.....

millie watches her do some pull-ups and is so impressed by them she isn't bigoted anymore :o)

"my daughter's membership at British Planet Fitness paid off. Look at how big her biceps are now. I guess I was wrong to tell her that her life is inherently suffering because she can't hunt, just look at her gooooo"

wheeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee

So, basically, Millie's a terrible parent. She never gets properly called out for this manipulative, toxic behavior. She says that her own daughter might have been better off dead in public. She makes Briarlight feel like half of a cat because she can't do all the things her siblings do, while her siblings are told that they should be grateful they're not disabled like Briarlight.

And just to end off, because it's relevant, the BRAND NEW writing team then killed off Briarlight in an incredibly stupid, insulting way. She catches fucking Greencough in AVoS so that they can have a very sad funeral for a couple of chapters, before moving on to Jayfeather being a shithead to Alderheart for being friends with Velvet.

Then they wrote a line in Squirrelflight's Hope where Squilf's mother begs her to stay dead in heaven, because if she goes back to life, she might be disabled like Briarlight and her mate Bramblestar won't want her anymore. The line was so bad the authors promised that it wouldn't be there in reprints; the reprint still has not come.

normal series.

#warrior cats analysis #Briarlight #CW Ableism #Cw bigotry #CW jesus christ I feel like this needs more tags because it's SO bad

[goodomens-hints]

Episode 1 plot summary (+complete list of scenes) and more details about later episodes

SPOILER WARNING SPOILER GOOD OMEN SPOILERS BELOW i'll leave my inbox open in case anyone has specific questions about season 2 eps

Scene 1: star creation scene Crowley needs help building constellations so he calls out at a shooting star-shape that turns out to be Aziraphale, who materializes in front of him. He asks Aziraphale to hold up an open scroll with schematics for the galaxies. When Aziraphale does so, Crowley pokes the center of the scroll with his hand crank device and twists it, so that nebulae shoot out. Yes there is a scene where Crowley says "look at that, gorgeous" and Aziraphale gets flustered. They watch in awe until Aziraphale tells Crowley "you do know after 6,000 years it'll be gone right? I read about it in the Great Plan". Crowley gets upset and protests, questioning the almighty, how there should be a suggestion box where they can put suggestions, and Aziraphale advises him not to say such things. Crowley says it's not like asking questions gets you into trouble. They watch the galaxies bloom and Crowley veils Aziraphale with his wing as shooting stars fall toward them, similar to the Garden of Eden scene but in reverse. Scene 2 aziraphale goes to record shop Aziraphale gets a note in the bookshop that says there's a matter of great "ugrency" (misspelled). He visits Maggie in the record shop and she's crying because she can't pay rent, so she's prepared to move. Aziraphale says if she gives him the records he requested, that'll be equivalent to the rent she owes. Maggie asks how he can forgive her and he says "I'm all about forgiveness, actually" and leaves.

Scene 3: crowley talks to shax this is the one posted on youtube, though it's a lengthened scene that includes the beginning where a spy tries to talk to crowley on the bench and he redirects him to the guy feeding ducks. those are the guys crowley is yelling at later. there is also a part where shax implies that crowley owes her specific information? it's very vague but it's probably why she's giving him updates on hell. yup, crowley does say he hasn't seen aziraphale in a while but it's clearly a lie lol Scene 4: michael mentions book of life

in heaven, michael is arguing with someone on the phone about the book of life, i thought at first it was beelzebub on the other end but it's probably uriel

Scene 5: gabriel appears on earth maggie visits nina who remembers her coffee order (skinny latte). then they're distracted by the commotion outside wherein gabriel shows up naked carrying a box. aziraphale is listening to the records but gabriel knocks on the door of his bookshop. there's a huge crowd outside and the moment aziraphale opens the door, gabriel says "I know you! :D" and hugs him in front of everyone while still naked LOL. aziraphale gets really embarrassed and brings gabriel inside. the rest of the scene is the one on youtube where gabriel explains he doesn't remember who he is. Scene 6: muriel finds matchbox short scene where muriel finds the matchbox with Job's passage on the floor of Heaven. you can see a bit of this in the trailer

Scene 7: crowley throws mail and meets shax again Crowley is in a random street throwing the mail shax gave him into a garbage can. Suddenly shax calls and crowley picks up, snapping at her that she shouldn't call and appear suddenly at the same time. shax appears behind him and says "why not?" this is the pic where both shax and crowley are on the phone -- theyre actually talking to each other lmao. shax tells crowley there are rumors of gabriel being missing and crowley is happy. she leaves. Scene 8:

aziraphale is talking to gabriel and we get the whole trailer scene ("you know that feeling where...") but in the real ep aziraphale's reaction is SO ANIMATED, with him standing up and saying "No! definitely not! I have no idea!" LMAO it's so funny, he's so in denial. We hear FLIES when it cuts to gabriel btw so maybe beelzebub is spying? HOW SUSPICIOUS. At one point Gabriel says "I love you" out of nowhere to Aziraphale and Aziraphale says "I..." and Gabriel smiles, looking like he's expecting an i love you back but Aziraphale just says "hmm". People were laughing so hard at this.

Aziraphale calls crowley and asks to meet at the coffee shop. Crowley informs him that gabriel is missing.

Scene 9: short scene where michael and uriel argue because michael said now with gabriel gone, someone has to be in charge...

Scene 10: Maggie brings Nina a record but Nina doesn't have a record player. Nina reveals she has a partner (Lindsay) and Maggie gets disappointed and leaves. She bumps into Crowley and Aziraphale on the way out and tells Aziraphale "you're an angel" lmao.

Scene 11: Crowley is PISSED PISSED PISSED the whole time, in fact the whole ep he looks like he's about to explode. We get the coffee shop scene HOWEVER right before that Crowley asks Aziraphale "what's wrong?" and Aziraphale says "why do you think something's wrong?" all nervously and Crowley says "you only ever call for 3 reasons: one, you're bored, two, you accomplished something and want to brag about it, and three, something's wrong. And you're using your 'something's wrong' voice." YUP THIS IS THE NEW 'i know what you smell like!'. we then get the naked man convo and crowley realizes immediately that aziraphale is stressed and says "is it something i can help with?" and aziraphale nods and THEY IMMEDIATELY GET UP and go to the bookshop with a plate of eccle cakes lmao. once crowley sees gabriel he and aziraphale start fighting. crowley gets mad at aziraphale and tells him he didn't command gabriel to answer properly. He yells at gabriel "WHAT ARE YOU DOING IN THE BOOKSHOP?!" and uses his hypnotism but gabriel just says "I'm dusting" and does the passive-aggressive feather duster motion. we get the "carved out for ourselves" convo .aziraphale says "fine, i would love for you to help, but if you won't, then feel free to leave". crowley says "i'm not helping" and storms off. he goes out into the street and says to himself "dont do anything rash... wait 10 seconds before doing anything..." but he's already emmitting smoke. We get a funny convo between nina and maggie who are watching crowley from the coffee shop. Nina's all "the man who drank six expressos! He's smoking!" and maggie says "well of course, he needs to calms down!" and nina says "no i mean actually smoking!" Crowley does the lightning thing (maggie thinks he was actually struck by lightning) and it ends up locking Maggie and Nina in the shop and killing their phones. Scene 12:

seroquel and muriel show michael and uriel the matchbox. It has "The Resurrectionist" on it. They are baffled that something material has made its way into heaven. We get the "Gabriel, I think he's gone to earth" line.

Scene 13:

Crowley's in his car and flies start buzzing. beelzebub appears in his car and teleports them both to hell using flies. This is the pic in the poster where beelz and crowley are sitting on chairs side by side. crowley is disgusted and spits some flies out lmao. beelzebub says he can come back and work for hell (and even get a promotion) if he finds gabriel, and that according to heaven, anyone involved in hiding gabriel will be erased from the book of life. crowley is teleported back to his car and begins panicking. Scene 14: nina and maggie bond while locked in the coffee shop. maggie doesn't drink wine and didn't party, nina opens up some wine and drinks it out of a teacup. she says her girlfriend makes her text if she's late by 10 minutes and that she must be freaking out right now. they see someone walking outside and try to ask her to help free them but she doesn't notice them.

Scene 15:

Crowley is mad in his car, speeding, doing the usual etc. Good Old-fashioned lover boy is playing!!!! Scene 16: Crowley arrives and Nina and Maggie catch his attention. They signal for help and he just goes "oh" and snaps his fingers, unlocking the coffee shop and bringing back the electricity. He walks off lmao. Nina and Maggie are weirded out, Nina groans because her phone is bombarded with texts from Lindsay asking where she is. Crowley enters and we get the "I'm back" scene. Aziraphale says he has to do the apology dance and Crowley is all "no way" at first but Aziraphale says "I had to do it in 1861, 1942..." and Crowley says fine and dances.

IT'S REALLY HILARIOUS. HE ENDS IT WITH A BALLERINA BOW LIKE THIS LMAO

So we get the "we need to hide him" convo and they decide to each use half a miracle so that their miracles wont be detected by heaven/hell. crowley will hide gabriel from heaven and aziraphale will hide gabriel from hell. they do the hand-holding thing (like in the pic). theyre not sure if it worked but crowley tests it by standing on a chair and poking at the space above gabriel LOL and there's a hint of a shield so he says it worked, and that he's sure heaven or hell didn't detect a thing. Gabriel is all "now i have two friends :D" and crowley says "We are not friends >:(" Scene 17: an alarm is blaring in heaven because CLEARLY they noticed the half miracle ahahahaha. michael, uriel and seraquel go to the globe and see purple smoke streaming out of the UK. they 'zoom in' and realize it's coming from aziraphale's bookshop.... (interesting that michael refers to aziraphale as a 'former angel' here)

End episode Soon I will summarize ep 2! Some hints for future eps too: -There's a big rain scene -There's an epic scene in the bookshop that took several weeks to film! (youve seen some hints in the trailer) -There are at least 3 jokes about aziraphale and crowley having sex that are scattered throughout the season LOL one of them is nina noticing crowley grumpy and saying "you look like mr. fell didn't let you top last night" and crowley's reaction is amazing. I'll say no more (for now)

#good omens spoiler #good omens spoilers #go2spoiler #go2spoilers

[klausysworld]

you can do a one-shot for yandere klaus mikaelson, where Hope is already a teenager and all her life she adored her parents and family and always wished that someone would love her like her father loves her mother *y/n*, but one day he was reading cases of people who had been missing for years and a case in particular of a girl who seems quite familiar to him, and he discovers that this girl is his mother years ago and he starts to investigate and discovers his father's obsession with his mother and that he kidnapped her and kept her with him until she fell in love with him, he also discovered the secret rooms of the mansion that have her mother's stolen belongings and her portraits. Obviously Hope feels cheated and disillusioned and wants to confront her father.

Confusion, Fear, Horror.

Hope knew she was cherished by her family.

Her aunts and uncles fawned over her and brought her the best possible gifts at special occasions.

Her father always called her ‘his hope’ and made sure she knew she could always have whatever she desired.

And her mother…her mother looked at her like she was the only thing in the world that mattered. She calmed her father whenever he got mad that she was going out with friends. When Hope got home late, her mother would sort everything out. She was like a guardian angel.

So finding an image of her on a ‘missing person’s’ website was a shock. At first she thought maybe it wasn’t her, maybe a doppelgänger of sorts?

So she began to dig.

She certainly wasn’t expecting to find a secret passage way.

To find hundreds of portraits of her mother, stacks of pictures of her doing things as simple as walking down the street to standing in a towel in the window.

Clothes in boxes labelled by the year and dozens of love notes written to y/n from Klaus.

And then a note book…

Mondays ~ 2:30pm she has afternoon tea with male co-worker. Needs to stop.

Tuesdays ~ works until 5pm. Walks home alone. Possible opening.

Wednesdays ~ gets a lift home from work,, varies between three coworkers. Kill all?

Thursdays ~ tight schedule at work-forgets her lunch. Will come in handy when courting.

Fridays ~ half day. Possible date night?

Saturdays ~ often sees friends and/or family. Need to tear her away from this.

Sundays ~ lazy days. Great days to watch her.

She blinked in confusion and slight fear before turning over the page

Favourite colour=y/f/c

Favourite food=y/f/f

Favourite song=y/f/s

Dream job=y/d/j

Favourite things to do=f/s/t

Aspirations=y/a

And so on.

There were pages and pages of information on her.

Hope wanted to believe that he was just an amazing boyfriend. He just loved her so much he made sure write down everything she told him. But then she found the notes

At 2:36pm I watched her go into a mans house.

4:08 I eliminated the problem.

6:29 she had a shower. Left her curtains open.

7:45 she had her dinner. Alone this time-good.

9:13 she put her favourite show on

01:53 she fell asleep on her couch-it’s okay, I moved her to her bed.

She didn’t know what to think. With the amount of times he had written in these books, it’s safe to assume he watched her daily, nightly for months, years on end.

Even after he seemed to ‘get her’, court her, he still watched her. He suspected she would cheat on him, leave him. He was more paranoid than she had ever known him to be.

And the entry he made about ‘taking’ her mother completely through her off course.

She looked through security footage of the dungeons only to watch her own mother scream and fight against her father. They were both hysterical and Hope watched in horror as her father threatened and raged at her mother.

Over the weeks she watched her mother slowly become more obedient and affectionate towards Klaus.

She watched as her mother clung to him in fear that he would leave her alone for days upon end, she noticed her fathers manipulative behaviour from the “how do I know this isn’t some ploy to make me let you go?” To “I just don’t think you truly mean it” Watching her mother beg for him to stay, pleading for him to show her some sort of affection.

She saw how her mother became reliant on him, how she began to love him because he was all she had.

She saw the photos of her mother pregnant, Elijah, Rebekah, Kol and Freya all in the background as Klaus tended to her mothers needs.

Pictures of her as a baby and how her mother sobbed as she held her, the look she had in her eyes when Klaus took Hope from her arms, the fear they held.

Hope didn’t understand.

She saw her parents in whole other light.

Every time Klaus would take something from y/n’s hands and give her a look, the way she would lower her head and apologise and he would remind her to ask before she does.

The certain looks he would give her, almost warning like when she ‘stepped out of line’

It frightened Hope.

She tried to say something to her mother but as soon as Y/n realised she knew, the utter horror on her face was enough to stop Hope.

“Hope- please, you need to be quiet, please my heart, please I promise I’ll keep you safe”

The way y/n would hold her and cry until it was Hope holding her mother and convincing her it was okay

“We can run away”

“I know it’s difficult to understand but…I do…I do love him Hope…I just…do”

Y/n feared for both of them what would happen if Hope spoke out of term. Y/n would never let anything happen to her baby but her baby was strong enough now go protect her mother too.

#klaus mikaelson #the originals #the vampire diaries #klaus and hope #hope mikaelson #daughter hope #klaus mikaelson x reader #klaus mikaelson one shot #klaus mikaleson imagine #klaus mikealson fanfiction #niklaus imagines #klaus m #klaus michaelson #klaus mikaelson x y/n #the vampire diares imagine #rebekah mikaelson #kol mikaelson #tvd klaus #elijah mikaelson #niklaus mikaelson #tvd universe #klaus mikaelson headcanon #klaus mikaelson fluff #klaus mikaelson yandere #klaus mikealson smut #klaus mikaelson x yn #klaus mikealson x reader #tvdu imagines #yandere klaus mikaelson #yandere!klaus

[frankensteins-mt-dew]

Little things I loved in Haunted Mansion (2023)

I just saw Haunted Mansion for a second time, and yall,it's good. The way they were able to blend the horror with the goofy and make it feel like the ride. amazing.

(Spoilers under the cut) here's all the little things I loved about the movie

1- this ones probably not anything but a coincidence but when Ben and Alyssa first meet the streamers are placed between them. I grew up Mormon (its complicated now) and whenever we drew the veil between life and death it was always a bunch of squiggly lines, like the streamers. Idk if that's like a thing in other religions too but I just thought it was interesting.

2- Gabby straight up saying "Nah. We're out." The second she noticed the spooky shit. Its an accurate and appropriate response that's not really used in this genre.

3- on that note I love the idea that they were basically forced to come back/stay. It advances the narrative and keeps them at the setting but it's not a bottle episode. Or movie.

4- Forced 👏 proximity 👏found👏family. They're all in the same room like 90% of the time no matter where they're at. And when they split the party for too long shit goes down.

5- Ben talking about his wife and his grief. The whole scene with him telling his friends about her and how she died, and Bruce almost immediately making a probably not appropriate joke that just made everyone laugh. It felt so real, like a real conversation. And the ghost winks. I have definently had those in my life but never had a name for it

6- Also the way they talk about grief?! Howthey show different characters dealing with it. How no matter who it is its like "you're hurting.it's ok. Let's get through it together" amazing.

7- The entire cast brought their A game in this movie. They knew what kind of movie this was and totally went with it

8- They ride references were amazing. The stretching room. the doom buggy chair. The forever hallway. Constance Hatchaway. Gracey. THE HAT BOX GHOST. Crump being the last name of one of the imagineers and his manor looking like the ride in wdw.

9- The music was so good! The jazz influence. SUPERSTITION. Grim Grinning Ghosts being prominent but not overwhelming. I wish the ending song was longer though.

10- the way they showed the passage of time with the moon phases and different outifts

11- Gabby and Ben's relationship remaining undefined. Imo this was not the time for them to get together, at least not immediately, what with (gestures broadly to everything) going on. The flowers he gives her at the end could be a romantic gesture or one of friendship and gratitude. I like that whatever ishappening between them is taking its time, because its something they both need.

I know there's something I'm forgetting but I cant think of it now so if I remember it I'll add it later. I hope more people go to see it I would love to see a sequel. Maybe they explore phantom manor or mystic manor (actually I dont remember if that one actually has any ties to the other mansions/manors)

#tldr #This movie was very clearly made with love by a bunch of nerds that gave it 100% #haunted mansion 2023 #haunted mansion

[thetriumphantpanda]

Tale As Old As Time | Joel Miller Fantasy AU (Chapter Two)

Series Summary | A Prince, cursed to be unloved, hardened by years of staring at his scars and sitting in his loneliness. A girl, headstrong and wanting of adventure, to escape the life curated for her, a breath of fresh air against the dark of his heart and his home. Can she really learn to love the beast he has become? Truly, a tale as old as time.

Chapter Summary | A girl, granted reprieve from her cell, but is the extravagant room you find yourself in now just a guided cage? A prince, unsure of himself and what to do, let's his temper get the better of him.

Pairing | Joel Miller x F!Reader (Beauty and The Beast AU) 

Chapter Warnings | Grumpy/Angry Joel. Introduction of some famous friends we all know and love, a girl who has essentially been kidnapped, discussion of food and alcohol but nothing else yet.

Word Count | 4.5K

Authors Note | I am so blown away by the love the first part of this received! I didn't ever think that AU's would be my thing but I'm so excited by this story and I'm excited to bring your part 2! For those of you who loved and enjoyed the original Beauty and The Beast, there's some scenes here which are just for you! I'd love to know your thoughts so if you enjoyed this (or even if you didn't!) then please consider reblogging, commenting or leaving me some asks! And if you'd like to support me further, you can leave a tip on my Ko-Fi.

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

“Did you see her?” One conspiratorial voice asks in a hushed whisper. 

“Poor thing, was scared to death,” The other voice responds, “He’s never going to break the curse if he behaves like this every time someone comes wandering through.” 

There is a third voice added to the mix, “What do you mean, every time someone wanders through?” This voice is sarcastic, “This is the first time in years we’ve seen a single soul.” 

“Maybe this our chance?” The second voice suggests, “Women like her don’t stumble upon souls like us often.” 

“You really think she could be the answer?” It’s the first voice speaking again, “If the master had thrown me in a cell, I don’t think I could ever forgive him.” 

It’s the second voice that decides the plan of action, “There is simply only one way to find out and that is to try.” 

It’s late and Joel has a headache. With the passage of time, he’s stopped thinking of himself a Prince. He might still have his servants and his castle, which is crumbling around him, but outside of that, he is no better than any other man, no different from the people in the villages that surround his once magnificent estate. They don’t remember him; he doesn’t really remember them. He thinks, over the glass of wine he drinks, that it’s probably for the best. All the power and attention had gone to his head, wasting his father’s money on extravagant parties, guests whose names he didn’t know. They weren’t there for him, only for what he offered. They’d have gone to any party where the wine was good, and the music made them soar. 

He finishes the wine in his glass when there is a tentative knock at the door. If it wasn’t for the wine jug being empty, he’d have told whoever it was to leave him alone, to leave him to his nightly stupor, but he wasn’t nearly drunk enough. 

“Enter.” He calls out. 

The door to the reception room opens and closes behind him, then the sound of footsteps and the empty jug being swapped for one that is full. Joel waits for the footsteps to start receding again, but they don’t. He clamps his jaw, trying not to lose his temper. They know to leave him alone in the evenings. Only to come to him to refill his drink at hourly intervals and leave with minimal talk. It was a routine they’d fallen into since the beginning. 

“What will you do with her?” 

It’s Lucian’s voice. Strange, Joel thinks. It’s normally Horace who oversees his nightly refills. The old man clearly didn’t have the courage for this conversation. If he wasn’t so fucking angry, he’d almost praise the younger man. 

“Haven’t decided.” 

Joel turns his head to look at the man. He’s smaller than Joel is, considerably, even before he was turned into a towering monster. Blonde hair with pointed features, and a stature that was so uncharacteristically rigid this evening, that Joel almost laughs. 

“Might I offer a suggestion?” He speaks. 

“You might,” Joel scoffs, “Doesn’t mean I’ll listen.” 

He clears his throat as he pours wine into his cup, perhaps hoping the alcohol might placate his master. 

“She is a girl, and we are running out of time, my lord.” 

“Your powers of observation have always been astounding, Lucian,” Joel replies gruffly, sipping at the fresh cup of wine, “She trespassed, she must face the consequences.” 

“I’m not suggesting she doesn’t,” Lucian assures, “But surely one evening locked in the tower is enough, my Lord, she was terrified.” 

“And then what?” 

“Maybe we bring her down to one of the rooms, make her feel comfortable?” He suggests. 

“So, she breaks into my home, and we reward her, is what you’re suggesting?” Joel turns, face warmed by the fire burning in front of him. 

“I’m suggesting that she is our only hope, sir,” Lucian is pleading now, “Another petal fell this week, none of us have much time left, or we’re damned to remain like this forever.” 

Joel ponders for a moment, mulling it over in his mind. If it had just been himself under the curse, he’d leave the silly girl where she was, but it isn’t just him. He’s got his servants to think about, although they don’t know it, they are more his friends than anything else now, the only people he has spoken to in years, and he knows they’re tired. 

He waves a hand in Lucian’s general direction, picking up the wine glass that is now full, “Do as you will, but she is not to stray to the West Wing, if I find her there, it won’t just be her that ends up back in a cell, understood?” 

“Clearly, sir.” 

The sun greets you early, peering in through the open gaps in the wall, meant to be a window, but only acting as a taunt for its prisoners. You could clearly see outside, out to freedom, but there was no way to reach it. At some point during the night, Phillipe had disappeared, no longer tied to the gate that you can see from the gap. You curse to whichever God will listen for your rotten luck, even if you could escape, the lack of horse would mean you wouldn’t get far before you were struck down by something, or worse, recaptured. 

You lean your back against the wall and bring your knees to your chest, wrapping your arms around your legs to try and comfort yourself. The ground is cold and you find yourself wishing for some straw or something, anything to act as a barrier between you and the cold ground you’d spent the night on. 

A little while later you can hear footsteps traveling up the stairs. Maybe now, in the harsh light of day, you’d finally see your captors face. Put features to the deep gruff voice and the large hands that had gripped you last night. It wasn’t to be. The man who comes into view is nowhere near large enough to be the same man who threw you over his shoulder like you were a sack of flour from the miller. This man looks friendly enough when he comes to kneel in front of the bars of your cell. Light blonde hair and a clean face, with friendly eyes. You want to trust him, but this could all be some kind of sick joke at your expense. 

“I brought you some food,” The mystery man speaks, placing a plate down on the ground as he unlocks the cell door, “Are you hungry?” He asks, pushing the plate through the small open gap, kneeling on the floor outside so you’re of a similar height. 

You shake your head and push the plate away with your foot – you have no idea what it could be laced with, even if it is just a lump of bread and some cheese. You try and curl in on yourself, make yourself smaller, hoping whoever this is will take the hint and leave you be. 

“The master can be quite… abrasive,” He starts, “But he means well.” 

You are vaguely aware of another set of feet making their way up the stairs, slower than this man had, but you push it to the back of your mind, “Abrasive?” You snort, “He locked me in a cell for walking through an open door, he is nothing more than a brute!” 

The man in front of you holds his hands up in surrender at your outburst, just in time for another man, still nowhere near large enough to be your captor, to walk up the stairs, clutching at his chest as he caught his breath. 

“I implore you Lucian,” He speaks with a deep voice, still trying to catch his breath, “You leave her where she is, the master didn’t give you express permission for this.” 

“Charming,” You mumble, “Wait, leave me where I am?” Your head perks, “Where else would I go?” 

The man who you now know is Lucian smiles, a genuine, friendly smile, which goes a small way in putting you at ease, “Well, this is no place for a beautiful girl like you, is it?” You return his smile because at this point, you think you’d do anything to not spend another second in this damp cell, “How about we take you somewhere more comfortable?” 

“This is a terrible idea,” The older man, with a full beard and greying hair on his head to match speaks, “I really do think we should leave her here.” 

“Horace, will you please shut up,” Lucian turns and chides him, “Look at her,” He tilts his head back towards you, “She’s terrified, she can’t stay here, and if the master asks, I’ll take the fall.” 

He extends a hand to you and after weighing up another night spent in this cell, you let your own slip into his. Lucian pulls you to your feet and helps brush off some of the dirt from the skirt of your dress, as he motions for you to walk in front of him, “Follow that oaf back down the stairs,” He chuckles, “He’ll be slow going because of his knees.” 

The room that you find yourself in now is a complete juxtaposition to a huge amount of the rest of the castle. None of the windows are broken, it doesn’t smell like the damp musk of the rest of the place, and the bed looks so comfortable you might cry. Your back is screaming from the night on the stone floor of the cell so you don’t think twice about flopping down onto the bed, letting the soft sheets and the mattress sink below you. You’re almost convinced you could fall asleep, until there is a loud knock at the door and then a woman, followed by a small boy invading the room. 

“Oh you must have had a ghastly night up there,” She exclaims, “Only one thing for it, and that’s a strong cup of tea,” She’s picking up a tea pot and pouring the warm liquid into a cup, stirring in some milk and sugar, before the saucer is held in your direction. You take it gratefully and drink, letting it warm your bones, “Drink up dear, we’ve got a lot to do.” 

“I’m sorry…” You trail off, “I’m lost?” 

“That dress has seen far better days,” She points to your clothes, understandably covered in grime from your night in the cell, “And I’m sure you’re absolutely famished, now come on, before Madame Audra appears.” 

You take another sip of the tea, as you watch the young boy rummaging around the room, “And who might you be?” You ask, smiling as he turns to face you. 

“I’m Oliver, Miss,” He smiles widely, walking towards you, “But everyone here calls me Chip.” 

“Chip?” You ask, a giggle to your voice. 

“Yeah!” He exclaims, getting as close to you as he possibly can, lifting his lip to show you his teeth, “Because I fell and chipped my tooth, see?” 

“Oh! How rude of me!” The older woman who has been fussing over the tea trolley exclaims, “I’m Mrs Thompson, and Chip here is my boy, and we’re going to make sure you’re comfortable here.” 

There’s another swift knock at the door before it’s kicked open to reveal a woman, younger than Mrs Thompson but still older than you, arms laden with so many materials that she can barely see over the top of the pile. She’s bustles into the room and drops them on the bed, immediately taking hold of the cup of tea you were enjoying to set back on the tea trolley. She grabs hold of your wrists and pulls you up from the bed, holding up your arms and running you over with her eyes, as if she’s sizing you up. Turns out that’s exactly what she’s doing. 

Whilst she’s fussing over the pile of what turns out to be dresses, you take a closer look at her. She’s beautiful, with smooth skin and friendly eyes, much like the rest of the gang you’ve met today. You wonder how these people have stayed so positive under the employment of such a horrid man. This woman in front of you can only be Madame Audra, and she’s dressed to the nines. You’d read about women like her in your books. Women of high society, with powdered faces and hair that towered on their heads, gowns made of silk and ribbons. She is quite possibly everything you had wanted to find in this world. 

“Now, I’m going to leave you in Madame Audra’s capable hands, we’ve got dinner to prepare, haven’t we Chip?” Mrs Thompson explains, steering the tea trolley out of the room with Chip on her heel. 

As the door closes you can hear Chip speaking to his mother, “See, I told you she pretty, mama.” 

You smile, turning your attention back to Madame Audra, who is holding up a simple dress, the colour of sugared almonds. You remember when your father had brought some back from the city, years ago. You’d eaten them with your mother, already sick and in bed. One of the few good memories you still held of her. 

“This will do nicely,” Madame Audra nods, holding it against your body, “The master will like this, and it’ll look lovely in the glow of the dining hall.” 

“Oh, but I’m…” 

“Well come on, let’s get you out of these dirty things.” 

“I’m very grateful,” You start, a hand placed on her arm as she tries to turn you to undo the back of the dress you’re already wearing, “But I won’t be going for dinner.”

She stops dead in her fussing over you, eyes wide, “Oh but you must.” She implores. 

“I won’t sit opposite a man who threw me in a cell for waking through an open door.” You stand your ground. 

She’s about to open her mouth to speak when there is a knock at the door. It opens to reveal Horace, the man from earlier, straight-backed and serious. 

“Dinner is served, my Lady.” 

Joel is pacing, mainly through frustration more than anything else, as Lucian and Mrs Thompson set the dining table ready to begin the execution of their master plan. There is a roaring fire lit, warming the room, and all sorts of dishes being carried out and placed upon the table. It’s nothing short of a feast, if he closes his eyes, he could even convince himself that he was the man he once was and he wasn’t about to sit down with a girl who had trespassed into his home and was now seemingly being rewarded for it. If he’s honest with himself, he also might be a little nervous. 

He'd been careful last night to stay in the shadows. He’s not really sure why, because at that point, all he was ever going to do with her was leave her up there to rot, but now he’s glad, glad that he hadn’t seen the look of repulsion on her face as he stepped into the light, showing the mottled skin of his face, scarred and textured as if someone had held his face to a flame for too long. 

“What is taking her so long?” He finally lets out, exasperated, mainly because the food is going cold. 

Mrs Thompson stands near the fire, her hands clasped in front of her, “Do try to be patient, my Lord, the girl has lost her freedom in less than a day, it’s going to take her some time.” 

Lucian decides to add his two pence to the situation, setting down the fork he’s been pointlessly polishing to pass time, “Have you thought that maybe she might be the one to break the spell?” He asks, hope lacing his voice. 

“Of course I have!” Joel exclaims, turning around to face him, “I’m not a fucking fool.” 

Lucian holds his hand up in surrender like he always does, but then claps them together, “Well then, it’s settled,” He exclaims, “You fall in love with her,” He holds out one hand, “She falls in love with you,” His other hand now held out, “The spell is broken, and we all go back to normal.” 

“Oh Lucian,” Mrs Thompson sighs, “It’s not that easy, love takes time.” 

Joel can feel his stomach sinking, hope had flourished before, at the idea that perhaps this might work, that these people who have surrounded him for years might be right, but when he thinks to the way he looks, face scarred, frame so big he would scare anyone who saw him, he realizes it’s no use. The enchantress had been right, no-one could ever learn to love him. 

“It’s no use,” He sighs, teeth gritted in frustration, he’s got a hand on the mantle above the fire, clenched in a fist, “She’s so beautiful,” He admits, because you are, even when fear had covered your features, you were quite possibly the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, “And I’m like this.” He points to his face.

Mrs Thompson moves to stand closer to him, placing a tentative hand on his shoulder, “Then you need to help her see past all this, don’t scare her with that intimidating scowl you always wear.” She points to his face. 

“And when she comes in,” Lucian adds, “Smile at her, make her feel welcome.” 

Joel listens back and forth as the two of them give him advice on how to behave when the girl finally arrives. Compliment her. But be sincere. Impress her with your whit. But be gentle. But above all, you must control your temper. 

It’s almost overwhelming, he can feel anger and embarrassment flooding through his body. He’s about to demand they stop when the door opens. He holds his breath, standing up straight, but then it’s only Horace’s portly figure that emerges over the threshold. 

“Where is she?” Joel demands. 

“Well, you see,” Horace begins, “Circumstances being what they are….” He trails off, taking a deep breath and steeling himself for the wrath he knows he’s about to be on the receiving end of, “She’s not coming.” 

“What?” Joel speaks calmly, although there is rage flowing through his veins, threatening to bubble over at any time. 

Before he really knows what he’s doing, he’s stomping, feet heavy, from the dining hall. He can feel everyone else following being him, but all he can focus on is how rude this girl is being. Beautiful, but the most stubborn woman he’s ever met, and he’s known her for less than a day. How dare she refuse him? He should have left her where she was to rot in the tower. 

There is a pounding at the door, so fierce you’re surprised it doesn’t break, “You were told to come down to dinner!” 

You look towards Madame Audra who has fear in her eyes, imploring you to placate whoever the man is currently shouting at you, but you can’t. He’s taken your freedom; you won’t let him control you as well. 

“I’m not hungry!” 

“You come out right now, or I will break down this door!” 

Unbeknownst to you, it isn’t just the master on the other side of the door, but Mrs Thompson, Lucian and Horace too. They’re all looking at each other, knowing that the talk they’d had with Joel in the dining hall has been forgotten, his anger taking over as it always does. They’re all trying to convince each other to talk, through knowing looks, surely one of them can help salvage this situation. 

It is Lucian who takes the initiative, “Master, I could be wrong,” He rubs his hands together in front of him, his own nervous habit showing through, “But that probably isn’t the best way to win the girls affections.” 

“Please, just attempt to be a gentleman.” Horace adds, making sure he’s standing behind Lucian, so he has a chance to escape if Joel feels the need to take his anger out on anyone.

“How can I when she’s being so difficult?!” Joel hisses, pointing towards the door. 

“Just ask her nicely,” Mrs Thompson implores, “Don’t demand.” 

Joel takes a deep breath and turns back to the door, the three pairs of eyes trained on his back as he digs deep and tries to remember what it means to be a gentleman, though he’s not been one for some time. 

“Will you come down to dinner?” 

The answer is almost instant, “Absolutely not.” 

Horace is already trying to tame Joel’s frustration when he turns back around to them, “Gentle, be suave, my Lord.” 

Another sigh, and another turn back to the door, his voice strained, trying to control his anger to destroy something from the rejection, “It would give me great pleasure if you would join me for dinner, please.” He speaks through gritted teeth, not quite believing that he is the one begging when she was the one who trespassed. 

“No thank you!” You call back through the door. 

“You can’t stay in there forever!” 

“Yes I can!” 

“Fine!” Joel shouts, “THEN YOU CAN GO AHEAD AND STARVE!” He bellows at the top of his lungs, turning around to his servants who are cowering across the hall from him, “If she doesn’t eat with me, then she doesn’t eat at all!” 

He stalks off back down the corridor, slamming the door at the end of it shut behind him. Madame Audra leaves the girl’s room, looking to her fellow servants before shaking her head. She’s not quick enough in closing the door, because all four of them can hear the racking sobs coming from the room. 

“Well, that went terribly.” Mrs Thompson muses, wanting nothing more than to storm into the girl’s room and embrace her. 

“Lucian, you stay right here,” Horace directs, slipping right into his role as head of the household in a crisis, “If she attempts to leave, you inform me immediately,” He runs a hand over his greying beard, “We need to be careful with this, she’s a firecracker, and anymore wrong moves and he’ll have her right back up in the cell,” Then he turns to Mrs Thompson and Madame Audra, “Household meeting in the kitchens.” 

taglist: @sinsofsummers @dinsdjrn @tightjeansjavi @morning-star-joy@darkroastjoel @cavillscurls @cupofjoel @patti7dc@drewharrisonwriter @casa-boiardi @partyofone3413

#Joel Miller #Joel Miller smut #Joel Miller angst #Joel Miller au #Joel Miller fic #Joel Miller fanfic #Joel Miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us au #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou au #Joel tlou #Joel the last of us #the last of us fic #tlou fic #Joel Miller x you #Joel Miller x reader #Joel Miller x female reader #Joel Miller x f!reader #Joel Miller Pedro pascal #Pedro pascal #TAOAT #the last of us fanfic #the last of us fanfiction #tlou fanfic #tlou fanfiction

[hey-august]

A Line from Me to You - Chapter 3

Description: Buggy finds a peculiar book on his ship. Enticed by the words contained on each page, the pirate opens up. Anonymity leads to vulnerability. What else will come from this? (Chapter 1, Chapter 2, check out the story tag)

Word count: 1.9k

Warnings: This chapter is SFW (again). The story will eventually be NSFW. Some profanity. Buggy x afab!reader.

A/N: The plot building got out of hand with this entire story - sorry to those waiting for this to get hotter! I started writing the first spicy section, which should happen in Chapter 5. Thanks for your patience and I hope you're still enjoying this story!

Tag list: @lostfirefly @rorywritesjunk @theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗ ✩ ˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

Buggy wasn’t sure if you would actually be interested in reading another book with him. He had a story in mind - a coming-of-age, but to Buggy, it was a mystery. The book was about two boys who became friends one humid summer.

The memory of where it came from disappeared long ago and all that remained were the reasons why Buggy kept the book through the different stages of his life. He wanted to know how the story ended. How that story ended. But ignorance was easier than reading, and fear was stronger than curiosity.

Your agreement to read with him was freeing. He felt lighter, as though his body would disconnect at each junction and his limbs would float apart without any effort. But there was a tether that kept him together - a string that had him connected to you, through the pages of a book. The outward pressure was what he needed to finally see that story to the end, whatever it may be.

The second book, titled “Rocks on the River,” was good. Really good. Buggy was pleased to read a note in the second chapter full of excitement and praise for how well-written the story was. He even circled your comment and added a checkmark, as if it was any other passage in the book that he approved of.

The author captured the carefree levity and gracelessness of childhood. The fictional duo - Harrison and Writt - would sneak out at night to swim in the watering hole, share stolen beer, and talk about a world bigger than they knew. During the day, they navigated the challenges of growing up in a small town full of strict expectations, unnecessary interpersonal conflicts, and demands to leave adolescence behind. 

As the story unfolded, so did Buggy’s past. Memories unfurled slowly, aching as they stretched out the creases from being stored for so long. They woke up quietly, almost as though they were always awake and waiting to speak. The need to be shared pushed the once organized queue, jostling the order until the long forsaken memories were clamoring for control of the pen. A chance to escape arrived with one chapter detailing a frustrating fight between the boys. An argument began with two different versions of the same truth and ended with a scuffle where Writt broke Harrison’s nose.

“I had a friend like this growing up... He was a total shithead.”

That was all Buggy planned to share. It was more than enough.

One night, with river rocks at their backs and the stars overhead, Harrison asked Writt if they would be friends in another lifetime. The sandy haired boy tossed a rock towards the sky and caught the smooth stone with an outstretched hand. “No…I think we’d be brothers.”

Buggy had finished the chapter before going back to that section. The words stuck to him uncomfortably. They were irritating but nostalgic, like sand clinging to damp skin. As much as he tried to brush away the past, he couldn’t let it go. And maybe a small part of him didn’t want to let it go. The pirate told himself that it wasn’t hope or remorse, but a reminder about the pain of betrayal. The same reasoning applied when he saw the question you penned after reading that chapter.

“Were you and your friend close like these two?”

“Yes.”

“What happened?”

“He wasn’t who I thought he was.”

You could see the lingering hurt in how the words were nearly carved into the paper. Even in the dim light, shadows settled into the deep grooves. Running a finger over the indents, a sense of guilt washed over you. This was the first time you asked questions unrelated to the story, but maybe you had crossed a line. The secrecy of sharing books made you feel closer to a stranger who might not reciprocate the fondness. 

The answer also unlocked an adjacent fear - that you might also be a disappointment. Just as you hadn’t expected to move onto a second book, you also weren’t sure if you would ever have an opportunity to put a name and a face to the other reader. Storing the second thought away for another version of you that could withstand preemptive rejection, you thought about how to respond to the reader’s pain. With a few swipes of your pen, you left a short acknowledgement and appreciation that they shared this piece of themselves with you.

Unlike the first book, there weren’t as many moments that required in-depth commentary or questions to untangle intent because this was a cohesive and well-thought story. The space that remained was used to share anecdotes and moments where the highs and lows of friendship were captured too well. With each unprompted recollection, you realized there wasn’t a boundary that you cut apart with an invasive question. 

Comforted that the connection was still intact, you also exchanged moments from growing up that stung decades later. One brutish story pushed you around and threatened a headache if you held onto it any long. Aware that the memory would force you to stay awake and stare at the ceiling of your small cabin while you scrutinized every mistake your past-self committed, you decided it would be less damaging to let it go free. Before you could change your mind, you began penning your own personal history.

Childhood friends had lied to you about meeting up in a nearby park. You waited by the east entrance where a crowd began to gather. Your friends weren’t present and the collection of people turned out to be participants in a footrace. For over an hour you waited and when faced with having to admit you were stood-up, you chose a different path. You pretended to be a racer. Even though you were dressed for an afternoon out, you  huffed and puffed your way through the course and your strappy sandals carried you to the finish line.

“OBVIOUSLY they didn’t think you were there to race if you were wearing a goddamn sundress.” The loopy handwriting was loose and each curve struggled to stay on course due to the writer laughing with their whole body while transcribing the note.

“Yeah well where the hell were you that day? Logic and anxiety don’t always go hand in hand.” You added a frowny face, knowing it would only add to the humor of an otherwise humiliating moment.

Unfortunately, the joy captured in the pages of the book didn’t last. As the story came to an end, so did Harrison and Writt’s friendship. 

Buggy was the first to read the final chapter. He finished long after the sun rose. Normally, a long night of reading would leave him with dry eyes, but not this time. The bright beams stung his eyes, which were already sore from crying and ached from reading without glasses. When the tears began falling, they came fast and spilled onto the lenses. Frustrated with having to frequently wipe his eyes and the glasses separately, Buggy tossed them aside and hunched over the tormenting book. 

Years later, Writt thought back to a crisp morning, one only found at the edge of summer. One morning he spent waiting at the river for a friend who would never appear. For a friend who disappeared without a goodbye and without a trace. When school started that autumn, none of the teachers knew where Harrison was, just that his enrollment was pulled unexpectedly. After searching through the changing seasons, Writt eventually gave up on learning where Harrison and his family moved to. Sometimes, he felt the memories of the summer months slipping away. Whenever Writt felt lonely, he’d find himself laying in the shallow river water and tossing a stone to the sky. Coming back to the present, Writt was surprised to see a familiar face in another town. A face that was older, having grown a few wrinkles, and carrying the weight of life. Harrison nearly looked past Writt before recognition dawned on his face. A familiar smile grew, sitting crookedly under a nose that was broken long ago. Writt returned the smile. The boys - now men - were strangers. Time had passed, wearing them away, like rocks in a river. 

---

You were just finishing breakfast when word came around that today was a “nothing” day. Every few months at sea, the captain would announce a day where nothing except necessary tasks were completed. If anything could be postponed or skipped, it was. The extra time became free for the crew to use as they desired. Most would use it to catch up on sleep, while others would take advantage of extra practice sessions, and others would corral their friends into playing games and drinking the day away.

You had one required duty for the day and would have almost an entire day free after restocking the infirmary. Before getting started, you stopped by the bench to see if you were lucky enough to have something to fill your day.

Struggling to carry the boxes and containers you stacked far too high, you kicked open the infirmary door and startled the sole occupant. The captain cussed loudly as he slammed a draw shut on his hand. The thick fabric of his glove and the slow moving, sticky drawer prevented any actual digit pinching, but adding to the superficial injury were a few boxes that slipped off your teetering pile and fell onto his feet. They weren’t heavy, but still unwelcome.

“Sorry, I didn’t think anyone would be in here!” you cried out while shuffling through the obstacles on the floor until you reached the table and could release the rest of the inventory.

“It’s a pirate ship, of course people are going to be in the infirmary,” Buggy grumbled. A floating hand dropped off the boxes of bandages and gauze that fell to the floor before returning to its search of the drawers. “You got anything for headaches in that mess?”

“Mmm, I should. Give me a second, Captain.”

Buggy watched as you rummaged through the mess. After a moment, you sighed and started searching by organizing the different supplies. Tossing similar items into piles, you uncovered the book you used as a base for carrying the ungainly amount of items. A book that Buggy had slipped under a bench less than an hour ago. Barely using his throbbing brain, he turned towards the door. Before he could make a hasty exit, a hold on his coat sleeve stopped him.

“Wait, I found ‘em. You should take some extras, in case the first dose doesn’t take care of it all.” You pressed two packets into his hand. Looking up, you were greeted by a wash of red. Aside from his usual nose, the captain’s eyes were deeply bloodshot. The crimson color eclipsed the usual cool tones of his eyes and were a stark contrast against skin that was paler than usual. His mouth was tight and his Adam's apple bobbed with a nervous swallow. 

“Is it just a headache, Captain? You don’t look good…” You reached up to see if he had a fever burning under the facepaint, but a hand on your wrist stopped your movement.

“I’m fine. It’s just a headache,” Buggy said with a clipped voice that indicated the end of that topic. “Looks like you have something to spend your ‘nothing’ day on.” He tilted his head towards the table with the book. “No need to worry about me, just take care of whatever you’re doing.” He turned and left, pursued by the guilt of knowledge. Guilt from taking away your anonymity and leaving you to deal with the sad ending alone.

But you weren’t alone. The still damp spots from tears that were poured into the book were company enough.

#eventual smut #buggy x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy the clown #buggy the clown x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #hey-august a line from me to you

[exhausted-archivist]

The Deep Roads are Complicated, and I am in too Deep...

I've been working on and off at mapping the Deep Roads for a while now and after writing 4 pages explaining my methodology of why I think it is mapped the way I put it and then moving on to orienting the ttrpg thaig map, I realized something while taking notes on the directions mentioned and cross-referencing it to the description of Horrors of Hormak thaig description.

You can't map the Deep Roads from a top-down perspective because sometimes the roads change directions and aren't actually going in a straight line.

They need an orthographic map. Or a map that essentially bisects the mountain. The literal map in the corner of both the Origins and ttrpg maps. The maps... that have increments of depth.

Now, I knew that the deep roads had to change elevation, especially considering how they're described and the way they're supposedly below sea level for most thaigs.

But somehow, despite knowing that, I never considered that thaigs and the roads themselves would essentially be stacked on top of each other. Don't know why that never crossed my mind up until I was checking my notes and the passages of the ttrpg and Horrors of Hormak to confirm directions. To which it finally clicked as they both explain how there are galleries/antechambers and staircases/pathways that change directions.

How do we get to the thaig? This tunnel leads to a series of galleries. Think of them as interconnecting wide flights of stairs linked together and occasionally switching direction. We head down these for a few hours and we’ll be on the outskirts of the thaig.

-- Dragon Age Tabletop RPG, Buried Pasts p. 18

Beside him, Lesha muttered a word and her staff began to glow. She pushed it inside the entrance to the hole, giving light to the darkness within. The edges of the circle cast by Lesha’s spell revealed a small staircase that descended into an antechamber slightly larger than the clearing above, carved with a skill and delicacy that rivaled the works of Orzammar, or even Kal-Sharok. At the other end of the chamber, a doorway and a second staircase beyond that which spiraled into the darkness, the entire space lit by the glow of lyrium. And above the entrance, written in dwarven runes, a single word—Hormok.

-- Dragon Age: Tevinter Nights, Horrors of Hormak (p. 86)

Which then gave me pause and had me rereading and looking back at the map. Because the maps looked like they were straight and didn't initially give the impression of any verticality to them. Until you look in the corner. That's when it clicked for me and the mountains suddenly made more sense.

And now I'm screaming about it here. Because both maps are depicting a small chunk of mountain(s) in the Frostbacks. Which, for reference, my wip of the Deep Roads looked like this.

If you follow BioWare's scale of 1 square = 15 miles / 24 km - if the Deep Roads were in working order the journey to the anvil would only be roughly around 2.5-3 days journey. However, we know to get to the anvil and back to Orzammar is a month-long trip. So, with the darkspawn and collapsed tunnels it becomes a 2-week journey there and 2 weeks back. Which is quite a large jump in travel times.

I have a personal scale based on population size, megafauna, and the fact that it is supposed to take over a week to get to the Circle from Orzammar on the surface, among other travel time increments. Which makes each square 38 mi / 61 km. A 4-5 day journey from the anvil to the void when functioning.

Now, I think this map still holds up in terms of placement considering that mountains can have a wide footprint and the map on the Origins Deep Roads has at least two major peaks and a plateau, whereas the ttrpg just has one major peak and a couple of smaller ones. The ttrpg map also speaks of ravines and such so it fits the geography.

But yeah, long story short I need to revise some of my methodology; and maybe rescale the map, so things aren't super tiny.

#dragon age #dragon age maps #deep roads #dwarves #thaigs #dragon age origins #dragon age tabletop #dao #da ttrpg #long post #no cut because if I'm here you're here lost in the deep roads with me #archi is yelling

[tenpintsofsundrop]

Dreaming Of You

Gar Logan x Fem!Mute!Powered!Reader

Part One: The Psychic and The Tiger

Summary:

You and Gar have been best friends for a long time. Nothing could disrupt the harmony of such a perfect friendship.

Nothing except maybe... your usually predictable powers going haywire and somehow showing you all of his heated daydreams about you. But he couldn't possibly have romantic feelings for you. He couldn't possibly want anything more than your close platonic friendship and the occasional steamy fantasy. Right?

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

Word Count: 13,100

Titans Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist

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

Warnings: some emotional angst (on the basis of mutual angst but they’re both deep in denial), accidental invasion of someone’s privacy (by accidentally reading their mind), some light canon violence (practice sparring/practice fighting), the reader character is disabled - the reader character is 100% mute, the reader character suffered with tumors that were partially cured by Doctor Caulder’s serum, the reader character suffers from migraines and seizures due to remaining brain tumors, the reader character has the ability to read minds, the reader character uses ASL because she is mute, mentions of the reader character having insomnia/difficulty sleeping, mentions of Rachel having a one-sided crush on Gar, the reader is described to exercise a lot and be physically fit but I don’t allot that to a certain body type (I am not excluding her from being fat when I write this), in a lot of passages - the reader is implied to be fat actually, mentions of the reader masturbating, a wholesome family game night that doesn’t really belong in a smut fic lmao, somewhat graphic descriptions of vomit (from illness) (it only occurs in one short section of the fic), passing mentions of disordered eating - but not due to poor body image or mental illness more in the form of restrictions on ‘junk food’ and not eating properly at meal times, dream sequences involving sex - hair-pulling, groping, biting, making out, (implied) shower sex, dirty talk, praise kink, penis in vagina sex (unprotected), mind fucking (but not in the way that you think - sharing sex with someone while having a sexual connection). All of the smut/sex in this chapter is of the day dream variety, but it is still described in graphic/detailed ways. I believe that is everything. 

A/N: The first repost on this new blog! I am so excited about it. If you have any comments or questions about the fic, please let me know, and if you have read it before, I hope you enjoy this new version, and if you're reading it for the first time, I hope that it's a really excellent experience for you.

...

Mind reading is most definitely not what people think it is. 

It’s not at all how movies portray it to be. And it’s definitely not how you imagine it to be when you think about having the ability to access someone’s private thoughts. 

To this day, you still remembered when Gar showed you the British television show Misfits, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the way the character’s mind reading power was portrayed. 

To most of Hollywood, it’s as if a person’s thoughts were a simple string of words laid out in their head, a simple script being read in their voice. As if you can accidentally overhear someone thinking about a certain topic, like one overhears a conversation. 

In reality, it was vastly different for you. 

There was no easy way to explain it, to describe the way it felt to enter the complex vastness of the human mind, but you often tried to put it into words. For one, you were thankful that it took you concentration and intent to use your powers. You never accidentally overheard someone’s thoughts the way a person can hear voices or loud music, or a television in the next room. It kept you from a lot of awkward situations. And most importantly to you, it kept you from barreling into a person’s most private space - the sacred stronghold of their mind - unless it was deemed completely necessary. 

From what you had realized, it required you making eye contact with the person in order for you to enter someone’s mind. 

“Ah yes. The eyes are the window to the soul, after all.” Doctor Caulder had remarked when he had discovered this about your powers. 

Ironic. Thematic, actually, considering that his serum had cured you of a physical blindness. One caused by a brain tumor that any doctor was too afraid to operate on in order to remove. Doctor Caulder liked to credit himself and his serum with giving you the gift of ‘a greater sight’, one that allowed you to peer deep inside others. A gift that he said allowed you to help people. 

To you, though, more often than not, it just felt like invading people’s privacy. And that was something you definitely didn’t enjoy - whether it was ‘helping’ people or not. 

Something you had learned during the minimal amount of time you had used your powers: people can be divided into two types of thinkers. That you found out very quickly. 

The first type are people whose thoughts come in the form of rich, visual landscapes. People who show off their thoughts almost purely with visuals, imagining things that might happen, remembering things that already have in vivid detail. Those people are typically the easiest to navigate, in your experience - but their memories can be the most painful and vivid if you go too deep. 

The second type are people whose thoughts come more in the form of narration - a voice inside their head speaking about their intentions or the information pumping through their mind. 

Although, unlike what most people would think, that voice is not usually their own. 

Most times it is the voice of a mentor or parent, someone who guided and built their thoughts from childhood, someone whose voice sounds firm and thoughtful in their mind. Or sometimes it could even be the voice of a TV character or a radio host, because listening to that piece of media so often caused that voice to clone in their mind and become stuck there accidentally. 

Entering the mind of someone like this can be tricky - their thoughts are difficult to navigate, because they are hard to grasp and become tangible. 

Occasionally you come across someone with a more unique mental landscape, someone in emotional turmoil or someone who simply never had a linear train of thought to begin with. Entering the mind of someone like this is more like a thousand screaming voices and flashing lights, all at once. Incredibly difficult to decipher, a sensory overload to take in.  

But those are only surface level thoughts. Your powers gave you the ability to dive deep into the cave of someone’s mind, to explore the winding halls of their memories, their subconscious. To feel their emotions, to help them work through their traumas, their pain. If they allowed you to delve that deep. Only if they invited you in. 

More often than not, you simply preferred to stay the hell out of other people’s minds. To simply give them the privacy they were owed. 

Which is why when it happened - when your powers started slipping out of your control on that stupid fucking day - you hated it more than you could be proud of it. Even if the information you discovered cemented a dream into reality that you’d been having since the day you met Garfield Logan. 

It had been a Saturday morning like any other. 

Well, one as routine as to be expected when living the Titans lifestyle. 

Moving into the Tower was actually nice to attempt to put down roots considering what you had been through over the past year or so. When you originally uprooted your life in Covington, Ohio to follow Gar, you certainly hadn’t expected the wild path he would lead you on. A path that would lead to you getting kidnapped by a doomsday cult and tortured, being lured to a house in the middle of nowhere and mentally tortured some more. All in all leaving that house with absolutely no sense of direction in your life, mentally scarred and broken. 

But you never blamed Gar for getting you into trouble. In fact, you were glad to be there to support him through everything that had happened. 

Gar was your best friend, your person, and you would have followed him anywhere. 

So naturally when he moved into the newly reopened Titans Tower, so did you. Dick didn’t fully understand the extent of your abilities, because in order to show people, you had to violate their privacy, and it wasn’t always something you were keen on doing. He simply trusted Gar at his word that you were more than capable of becoming a Titan. 

That blind faith Dick had put in you, backed by Gar’s word, that heavily motivated you to train hard in all other areas to ensure that Dick knew Gar could be trusted. To pull through on that promise and show your worth. 

That’s why you were up so early that morning. You liked to get a head start on things. You liked to be up before everyone else to prove that you were working hard on your training, working hard on studying the things that Dick wanted you to know. 

At least, those were the excuses you had prepared if anyone asked. Or the things you told yourself to escape the reality of it - to say that you were using your time wisely these days. 

Truthfully, you were never very good with sleeping. 

Between your chronic headaches, pain that left intense aches down your neck and spine, and the awful nausea that it plagued you with, and the strange dreams that your powers seemed to be paired with, you didn’t often get much sleep. 

You were still figuring out how your incredibly strange dreams coincided with your ability to breach other people’s private thoughts. But you guessed that it was simply part of that whole ‘greater sight’ thing. Especially considering that those dreams seemed to depict the future in some way. 

You often found your sleep disrupted by these dreams - visions of death or violence or even strange faces you had never seen before. And more often than not, you decided to pursue more productive activities than tossing and turning in your sheets until your alarm rang. 

Strangely enough, one of the very first dreams you’d had after being injected with the serum had been a strange setting where you were garbed in a giant, poofy white wedding dress, getting married to a large green tiger who wore a black bowtie among his bright green fur. At the time, you had genuinely convinced yourself that it was just a strange fever dream caused by the serum. Up until you’d met Gar, and something in the pit of your stomach told you that he was the green tiger in question. 

But you had never told anyone about that dream, and probably never would.

It’s something that was very far from your mind as you enjoyed breakfast early that morning. 

Dick usually let everyone ‘sleep in’ on Saturdays - as much as Jason complained that sleeping until eight was not a luxury, he and the others usually still took advantage of it. But you were up long before sunrise on that day. 

You were sitting at the kitchen island, absentmindedly snacking on some dry cereal with your journal open in front of you. You were sketching a picture of something you had seen in one of your dreams. A girl with waves of silver hair and eyepatch that you didn’t recognize, but had a gut feeling was important somehow. You glanced up at the sound of footsteps coming into the room, and found yourself surprised but happy to see that it was Gar. 

He was clearly still half asleep, his eyes barely open. He wore plaid pajama pants and a green pullover hoodie, hair still adorably messy and uncombed. He looked so utterly soft and cuddly, something that made those undeniable butterflies stir in the pit of your stomach. 

When you looked over at the clock attached to the stove, it was barely five-thirty in the morning. The sun was just kissing the sky orange to your right, casting a warm orange glow across the entire room through the many tall windows. You were almost shocked that anything other than Dick’s fist hammering on Gar’s door had gotten him out of bed this early. 

“Morning.” He grunted at you as he tiredly stumbled toward the fridge. He opened it with haste and grabbed the carton of orange juice. 

Of course. He wanted a snack. 

He uncapped it and gulped it with enthusiasm, not bothering to get a glass or even close the refrigerator door. The sharp light of the halogen bulbs and the cool air pouring from the appliance almost hurt you, your overly sensitive eyes and skin picking up on the sensations more potently in the soft morning light of the room. 

Gar turned around, the carton still poised to his lips. He took large swigs that made his Adam’s apple bob in his throat, and he kicked the fridge door shut behind him as he finally put the carton down on the counter, exhaling a large, nasty burp. He looked at you with a sleepy smile, almost making you mad with how cute he could be after doing something like that. 

You were about to comment on the disgusting nature of his habits when something strange happened - something that had never happened to you before. 

You locked eyes with him, and with absolutely no intention or purpose on your part, you were struck with a flood of his thoughts. A vision, a vivid painting brought to life by his imagination. 

It was a distinct, full picture of the two of you. 

He had you pressed against the kitchen island, his hands commanding and warm on your hips, like they belonged there. His body was firm against yours, tightly pressed against you as if trying to spite the clothes you wore - and his lips were on yours in a demanding kiss. It was entirely passionate, downright hungry. He left gentle nips on your bottom lip as you ran your hands through his sleep mussed hair, your gentle tug on it forcing a moan from his throat, his tongue pressing into- 

A gentle gasp coiled in the back of your throat as you were shocked back to reality, finally able to force yourself out of his mind. 

You had no idea how the accidental violation had even occurred in the first place, but to stay there and indulge in it would only be continuing to do him a great injustice. When you dared to let your eyes flicker back to his face, he was staring at you with a strange look - his brow slightly furrowed, worry dancing across his mouth. Clearly he wanted to ask you what was wrong. You hadn’t greeted him or said ‘good morning’ in any sort of fashion yet, and now you were just sitting there, frozen on your stool, every inch of your body tight as ice at what you had just seen. 

“Did you want some?” He asked, picking up the orange juice carton and holding it out to you. 

It was adorably ignorant of him - to think the strange look that had struck your face was over some dispute about orange juice. That you were annoyed because he wasn’t sharing well enough. You simply shook your head in the negative and began gathering your things as quickly as possible, trapping your pencil between the pages of your notebook as you scrambled to get out of his sight. 

You needed time to think. 

You had no idea what the hell had just happened, but you sure wanted to avoid him until you could figure it out. Until you could get it under control. You raised your hand and signed something about showering to him. But your movements were quick and sloppy and you didn’t look at him for confirmation that he understood before you barreled out of the room. You were too eager to hide in your bedroom until you were absolutely forced to see him again. 

… 

It’s not like you hadn’t thought about it before. 

You had thought about it a lot, actually. 

But he had been far too good a friend for you to ever risk losing that friendship over your stupid lust - over some stupid schoolgirl crush that you were sure would go away. And the whole uprooting your life and having a demon from another dimension invade your mind and show you the darkest parts of yourself thing definitely made you put your crush for Gar on the back burner. 

It’s not like you were blind to how entirely perfect Gar was. He was handsome, he was cute - so entirely adorable in his boyish looks and his sweet smile. So cute and excitable, with the way he could be bashful, yet confident at the same time when spurting out random facts about video games or going on and on about seemingly any subject that excited him. And you quickly realized that he had more than boyish charms the first time you had seen him shirtless - accidentally caught him changing when living together at Caulder House - and you saw his gorgeous physique on display. 

You had been smitten with Gar since the very first moment you had met him, actually.

Back then your crush was something that should have been glaringly obvious to him. You could barely maintain eye contact with him within the first few days of knowing him, you were always so flustered around him. That, on top of the playful teasing of your housemates, wondering when the two of you were finally going to admit that unspoken thing you had going on. 

But when the two of you left Caulder House and set out to explore the world - it had remained unspoken. 

If Gar had known about your crush on him, it had never affected the way he treated you. Your friendship grew so strong so quickly, and you never wanted to lose that. You never wanted to lose him. So you settled for platonic couch cuddles and late night multiplayer and him letting you sleep in his bed whenever you got a bad migraine. 

And then Rachel came along. And you saw the way he looked at her, the way she looked at him. And even though you thought you had probably lost any chance of ever being with him the way you had dreamed of - you still packed your bag and squeezed into the back of Dick’s Porsche with him when he begged for you to come. 

Naturally, you were spinning at the revelation that apparently, he had thought of you the same way you thought of him. You almost wanted to convince yourself that it had been a mistake. That it had just been a fantasy you had cooked up inside your own mind. It’s not like you didn’t have many, many fantasies about Gar running around in there. 

But no. You knew distinctly what it felt like to use your powers. Being inside the private cave of someone else’s mind - even touching the surface of its depths is a unique experience. And doing it by mistake feels no different than doing it on purpose. 

You had no clue what had caused your powers to go off by mistake, but you definitely knew the feeling of using them. 

Those were most definitely Gar’s thoughts that had invaded your mind. Gar’s thoughts about kissing you, handling you with such intense passion. Your skin startled to crawl with a unique heat as you remembered the vision so vividly. You heaved a great sigh as you flung yourself backward onto your bed. You gazed over at the clock. It was almost time for training. You wouldn’t be able to hide from Gar for much longer. 

…  

You were just glad that training that day consisted of blindfolded sparring. 

Dick seemed very surprised when you volunteered to go first after he introduced the unorthodox exercise. But to you, it was a simple logic that had you eagerly chopping at the bit to get a piece of cloth covering your eyes. If you were blindfolded, there was no chance of you catching Gar’s eye. Or anyone’s for that matter. 

You had no idea if your powers were simply spinning out of control, or if it was an unintentional emotional reaction triggered by Gar’s presence. You weren’t quite sure which was worse. If it was a case of your powers going rogue, growing stronger somehow, then perhaps you’d have to start wearing a blindfold all the time. 

If it was specifically something with Gar, then… maybe that was worse. It probably signaled something deeper with you. Your feelings for him clawing at your unconscious, begging to be spilled to the open air. Which you really weren’t eager to let happen anytime soon. 

You were almost relieved when Dick paired you off with Jason, saying that your skill set ‘complimented’ his. He explained that he wanted the two of you to try the blindfolding exercise together while he quizzed Gar and Rachel on logic puzzles in the other room. At least Gar would be required to be away from you for a while, and you’d have a very slim chance of catching Jason’s eyes. You didn’t want to know what kind of things he was thinking, what secrets he had. Definitely not. 

As the two of you sparred, you were entirely unfocused, your thoughts swimming. 

Jason caught you off guard, and easily swept you off your feet completely as he struck you hard in the ankle with the wooden practice sword he was wielding. You grunted gently as you hit the floor, and rolled over on your back, defeated. You reluctantly removed the blindfold as you caught your breath, and saw him standing above you, offering you a hand to help you up. As you blinked against the sharp light meeting your eyes, you accidentally caught his gaze, making direct, certain eye contact with him.

Nothing out of the ordinary happened. You breathed a small sigh of relief. 

“You okay, Fancy Hands?” He asked, leaning down so his helping hand was closer to you. 

It was a nickname he had affectionately given you the first time he’d seen you use ASL when you had met - back at the safe house in Chicago. Back when Jason had used Dick’s tracker to find him and you all met the surprise second Robin for the first time. 

At the time, you had been surprised to find out that Jason actually knew quite a few signs because one of the kids he’d been in foster care with had been deaf. You had explained to him that your hearing was perfectly fine - your mutism was because of a surgery during your childhood that had removed a tumor from your throat and had left your vocal cords damaged. It was something that had occurred long before your life had become about powers, a green tiger, and one too many Robins to count. 

In the present, you were simply thankful that your powers didn’t seem to act up with him. 

In response to his question, you nodded, taking his hand. 

He helped you to your feet quickly, and you found your own practice sword where it had fallen. You then replaced your blindfold once again. Though it was slightly troubling to know that this sudden shift in your powers only seemed to be triggered by Gar - that knowledge did help you focus a bit more on the lesson. 

As you focused, you blocked two of Jason’s hits with your sword and landed a swift, sharp hit somewhere on him. 

“Ow!” He whined. “Take it easy, Fancy Hands, this is only supposed to be practice.” 

You giggled, smiling to yourself. 

… 

It had been a few days since then. 

And you had been strategically avoiding Gar. 

At least, avoiding him as much as you could without arousing major suspicion. It was a pretty large living space, and with only four other people in it, it was next to impossible to come up with excuses to avoid him entirely. He was your best friend, after all. If you just quit spending time with him entirely, that would cause him to ask way too many questions. And you definitely couldn’t give him the answers to any of those questions. 

You had made a hard agreement shortly after you had met him - you promised that you would never use your powers on him without his explicit permission unless it was some kind of emergency. A life or death situation. You both easily agree that his brain was his brain, and like every other person on the planet, it was his private sanctuary. He was entitled to that privacy. He deserved that much. Everyone did. That’s why you always tried to avoid using your powers at all costs. 

You didn’t want to explain to him that you had accidentally broken your promise - that you had seen some of his most private thoughts. On top of that, it was like a giant tease toward your feelings for him. Feelings you shouldn’t even have for your best friend. 

So in the meantime, while you were trying to figure out how to reign in your powers and stop from having another freak accident like the one in the kitchen, you stuck to what you considered ‘safe’ activities with Gar. Things the two of you could do together that would absolutely minimize eye contact between the two of you. 

Things like: studying Dick’s allotted mandatory reading material, where your eyes would be safely glued to the pages of a book. Playing video games with him, where your eyes would have to be on the screen. And you always made sure you sat next to him at the dinner table, where your eyes would be parallel to his, or stayed safely on your dinner plate. 

You had been doing just fine until another accident happened. 

Of course, it happened because of factors you hadn’t taken into account. 

You had been up late in the training room, something you did often. Because of your hesitance to use your powers, you liked to exercise often to be in peak physical condition in case fighting was ever necessary on your behalf. 

On top of that, you and Jason had somewhat of a silent rivalry going. You had kicked his ass quite a few times during training sessions, and though he would never say it, he liked how you kept him on his toes. So now you were always trying to quietly outdo the other. Something you were caught up in thinking about as you floated down the hallway toward the bathroom on light feet, your toiletry bag in hand, hoping Jason hadn’t beaten you to the shower. 

What you were not at all expecting, was to collide heavily with a half-naked, still wet from the shower Gar. With neither of you paying attention to where you were going, you smacked into each other at a fair speed, him waltzing out of the bathroom and straight into you. Your toiletry bag went flying, and with the zipper undone, your products scattered out across the floor. 

“Shit, oh my god, I’m sorry.” Gar quickly apologized, being the entirely sweet person that he was. 

You both leaned down in unison and began picking up the mess of bottles and other products. You forced yourself to keep your eyes steadily on the floor, not daring to look toward his face, no matter how much you missed his sweet smile and those big brown eyes looking back at you. You couldn’t risk it, not if you would make that unintentional invasion of his privacy once again. 

Gar’s chest twinged with sour notes as you avoided his gaze. Usually, you were always so pleased to be around him. He thought that he had done something wrong. Something grander that he had somehow failed to perceive. 

“I guess I better watch where I’m going, huh?” He chuckled, trying to make conversation with you. 

Truthfully, he just wanted a reaction out of you - he needed to see your smile like wilting plants needed rain. He worried that he wasn’t going to get it anytime soon. 

You kept your eyes glued to the floor, making it an exercise in self-discipline. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see his dripping wet leg and the edge of the fluffy, white towel he was wearing. You knew he was shirtless and it was far too tempting to look. 

When your hand went for the bottle of conditioner at the same time as his - you accidentally brushed over each other. You felt a unique heat creeping up your spine. Like magnets, like a plant growing toward the sun - like any natural reaction that self discipline can’t be stopped - your eyes flickered up and met with his. 

And once again, you became trapped in the depths of his dangerous gaze. 

You were sucked into his mind before you could stop it. In a millisecond, all of your senses became consumed by another vision of his imagining. 

You were surprised to find that it was a scene of you, alone. 

It was a way you had never viewed yourself before; getting the chance to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, even if it was only imaginary, was quite a strange sensation. 

The scene was an outside perspective of yourself showering, as if someone was staring at you through the clear glass door. You had to admit that it was positively erotic. The way the bubbles cascaded down your skin, the way your hands rubbed your flesh as you washed yourself. The dream you stopped the smooth lathering partway to grab and grope at your thighs and breasts, moaning lightly under your breath as you did so. 

You had never thought you could be so… dreamy. 

You didn’t remain alone in the shower for long, though. 

As if out of nowhere, Gar appeared behind you, his naked body almost eclipsed by yours, save for his delightful broad shoulders and his head as it poked out around yours. You had never seen a more appealing sight in your life. His gorgeous face with wet hair stuck to his forehead, the grin that came across his cheeks as he looked at you. His arms came to wrap around your waist as he gently brushed a loofa across your stomach. He began kissing along your shoulder, licking his tongue across your neck and boldly moaning at the taste of your skin-

You forcefully pulled yourself from the vision. As you rocketed back to reality, it was like having ice water thrown down your back. 

The surrounding warmth of the imaginary shower was gone, and you were once again in the cool night air of the hallway. You gazed across Gar’s face, taking in the wide-eyed, clueless expression he wore. He almost looked worried for you, wondering why you had spaced out like that. He had absolutely no idea of what you had just seen. 

You snatched the bottle of conditioner out from underneath his palm and shoved it into your bag. Miraculously, you stood up on shaking legs, turning around and going to escape back to your room. 

“Didn’t you wanna use the shower?” Gar called after you quietly. 

Right. Your shower. 

You whipped back around, nodding at him in passing - but you kept your eyes locked on the floor as you sped by him. You practically ran into the bathroom before he could make any comments about your strange behavior. 

You shut and locked the bathroom door behind you, sealing yourself in the smothering heat and steam that he had left behind. When you glanced over at the mirror and saw that he had been drawing funny faces in the condensation - something that was so terribly Gar it almost hurt - you felt even worse about violating his privacy. Even if it was an accident. 

You tried to let the guilt go as you scrubbed away at your body. You told yourself that it wasn’t your fault. 

Eventually, you found yourself only reminded of his steamy fantasy as the bubbles ran across your skin. You had never felt sexier, never felt more attractive in your entire life than you did in his eyes, in his imagining of you completely naked. 

The biggest reason that it boosted your confidence? His mental image of you was so strangely honest. 

In his dream, you weren’t cartoonish or overdone by his lust. Even though he had never seen you naked before, your breasts weren’t ballooned out or perkier than they should have been. There wasn’t a great amount of fat trimmed from your body, as if he desired you to be thinner than you were. It was so gratefully you - but it was a hot, sexy, fantastic version of you. A version that he apparently wanted to have shower sex with. 

The very thought had you pulling down the extendable shower head and holding it between your legs, getting off to the way Gar thought of you. It was perfect - until Jason’s banging on the bathroom door, complaining that you had been taking too long, interrupted you. 

… 

Gar’s hands were all over you. 

It left you absolutely breathless, giving you no room to escape the pleasure he was delivering. He had turned you into a quivering, moaning mess. His mouth was between your legs, on your neck, on your breasts. His perfect lips were hot on your own, trying to trap the indescribable sounds you were making for him. You were completely pliant to him, to his needs, a melted puddle of want under his ever giving hands. 

“God, you’re so fucking perfect.” He moaned into your ear, finally lining his cock up to your throbbing entrance, finally ready to give you what you needed most. “I can’t wait to watch you cum on my cock.” 

His dirty words only fueled the every growing desire that was mounting inside you. You keened out pathetically as he finally pushed inside you. His cock ignited you with a sharp electricity, filling you up so perfectly. 

You were shocked out of your strangely wonderful dream by a pounding on your bedroom door - Dick coming to wake you up for training. 

“Morning jog in twenty minutes.” He called out through your door, making you groan into your pillow. 

There wouldn’t even be enough time to relieve the hard painful throbbing between your legs before you had to get out of bed. 

As much as you loved the man who had so graciously taken you in and now acted as such an amazing mentor to you - you really hated Dick Grasyon sometimes. 

…  

Gar had been plaguing your dreams since you had discovered the kind of thoughts he had been having about you. Of course, he had been the subject of plenty of your daydreams - but this was so much stronger. He had invaded your subconscious and made a home for himself there. 

More intense than any fantasy you had ever cooked up yourself, every single time you closed your eyes - he was there. You could feel his lips on your skin, could feel his hands on you. It had become more difficult than usual to sleep, and when you did, you woke up with a light sheen of sweat covering you, your pussy soaked and throbbing, absolutely needy for him. 

You knew it would be wrong. It would absolutely be wrong if you acted on your feelings for Gar now, well-informed that he was attracted to you too. That he might want the same things as you. It was so undoubtedly wrong to take information you had discovered with your powers and use it for personal gain like this. 

But, on the other hand, you knew the only reason he was plaguing your mind so much - you had some hope that he felt the same way. That he returned your big, scary feelings. 

But that was the thing, wasn’t it? 

You couldn’t know for certain if he felt exactly the same way that you did. 

Yes, you had seen him imagining kissing you, imagining doing sexual things with you. You knew that he thought of you in an erotic way. But that only meant he wanted to fuck you. 

It certainly didn’t mean that he wanted to be seriously romantic with you or that he wanted a serious relationship. He also could have sexual fantasies about Jason swimming around in his head - ones that you hadn’t seen. 

Nothing about what you had seen said he was in love with you. So if you told him about your feelings for him unprompted, not only would you make yourself look like an idiot, but you would eventually have to tell him about the things you had accidentally seen. He would never forgive you for violating his privacy, and you would be heartbroken. 

Sometimes you really wished you could just be normal. 

… 

“Well, this is fucking stupid.” Jason griped, throwing himself down onto the couch with a heavy sigh. 

“Yeah, we all know that, Jason.” Rachel quickly agreed. “But if Dick comes back and doesn’t see us having Happy Bonding Board Game Fun Times, then he’ll make us run laps or balance plates on our heads again.” 

She proposed an easy argument in favor of shutting up and co-operating as she unpacked the many pieces of the board game that Dick had gotten you guys - Trivial Pursuit. Something ‘fun and educational’, he had explained. 

You laughed under your breath at Rachel’s comment. 

Dick wanted the four of you to spend more time ‘bonding as a team’. He had explained that one of the reasons the Old Titans worked so well together out in the field was because they did casual, friendly activities together as well as training together. He wanted this new team to be as strong as the old one. 

You thought maybe this sporadic encouragement of bonding had been brought on by how you had been acting. With your dreams growing more intense each night, you had been increasingly turning down Gar’s invitations to play video games together, or study together. You had even started making up excuses to take dinner into your room or skipping dinner altogether in favor of eating bowls of cereal when no one else was around. And you knew Dick had noticed. 

But you also knew that you weren’t the only one to blame. 

The whole ‘team bonding’ thing could have easily been prompted by Jason’s increased agitation with the living situation, his eagerness to leave you all behind and get back to Gotham. And the fact that Rachel, like you, now rarely came out of her room. 

This always left Gar in a strange situation where he was desperate for friendship but everyone pulled away from him, everyone wanted to isolate themselves but him. You felt increasingly guilty about it. You felt so bad for abandoning your best friend. But every time you looked at him, even without making that dangerous eye contact, heat began to rise in your face as flashes of his fantasies or your wicked dreams began popping into your mind. 

But now you were all being forced to spend time together. You couldn’t avoid it so easily. You knew there was no excuse you could cook up to get out of it. And like Rachel had said, you didn’t want yourself and the others to be plagued with some dumb punishment like running laps if you could just be playing a board game instead. 

All four of you were sitting around the small coffee table in the living room area of the open concept space, the fire pit sending warm waves over you as the dark sky went on boundlessly through the tall windows. The lamp above your heads and the city lights cast a warm glow over everything, creating a beautifully pleasant atmosphere that made it easy to ignore your problems. 

Dick was gone out on some ‘errands’, and made you all promise to play the game and spend some time together while he was gone. 

“I like board games.” Gar smiled, picking up one of the pieces and inspecting it. “Of course, I do prefer multiplayer online. But some old fashioned tabletop is good to throw in there every once and a while.” 

You smiled at Gar’s comment. He was so wonderfully nerdy. Undeniably one of the reasons you had developed feelings for him in the first place. 

You were seated beside him on the plush rug, crossed legged, your knee just barely brushing against his. It felt strangely normal to be like this, pretending like nothing odd had happened between you in the weeks past. You were enjoying the feeling, indulging in actually getting to hang out with your best friend without worrying about romantic feelings or any of the other bullshit. 

“Could you not be a total dork for like… five seconds?” Rachel quipped, raising an eyebrow at Gar. 

Gar threw the game piece at her, and it bounced off her chest before it disappeared somewhere on the floor, making her look for it. You laughed. 

“Ugh, this is so fucking stupid.” Jason groaned into a small throw pillow from the couch that he had pulled into his face. “I don’t want to play this dumb fucking game.” 

‘Are you afraid you’ll lose?’ You signed. 

Seeing as Rachel didn’t know that much ASL, and Jason wasn’t even looking at you, his face still covered by the pillow in his little tantrum, Gar interpreted for you. 

“Are you afraid you’re gonna lose?” He announced to the room in a tone ripe with sass. 

Rachel smiled at the challenge, looking over her shoulder to see how Jason would react. 

“What? No.” Jason snapped, sitting up and tossing the pillow behind him. “It’s just a stupid game. I’m sure there are far better things I could be spending my time doing.” 

‘Then play.’ You signed, making steady eye contact with Jason, challenging him. 

“Then why don’t you just play?” Gar spoke, adding a few more words. Not that you minded. You thought it was generous and sweet that he had rushed to learn ASL in the first few months of knowing you just so he could communicate better with you. It was one of the things that had made you fall for him so hard, so fast. 

Jason’s face was struck with the realization that you were the one challenging him, not Gar. His eyes flickered between the three of you,  and then he settled into a seat on the carpet beside Rachel. 

“Okay fine, how do you even play this stupid game?” He grumbled quietly, snatching the instructions from Rachel. 

‘Why don’t we make things interesting?’ You said, knowing you could aggravate Jason’s competitive side even more. 

And in the back of your mind, you were thinking about the fact that if you were too focused on winning the game, you wouldn’t be too focused on Gar. You wouldn’t be thinking about the fact that he had shifted closer to you, and his thigh was pressing more into yours, spreading a deadly heat across your skin under your clothes.

“What, like a bet?” Gar responded to your words rather than translating them to everyone else, and you rolled your eyes at him. 

‘Yes, a bet.’ You quickly clarified. 

“Are you challengin’ me, Fancy Hands?” Jason posed. “You wanna lose even more disastrously to The One and Only Robin?” He added on, his words dripping with that usual air of cockiness. 

‘Second Robin.’ You reminded him.

Jason knew enough sign language to know these symbols. Especially the one you had specifically taught him for the bird with the same name as his caped alias. So even though Gar failed to translate these words for fear of starting a genuine fight, Jason responded to your feisty words.  

“The One and Only Robin, now that Dickhead Grayson is retired.” He proudly corrected you. 

‘Whatever.’ You shrugged it off. ‘We’ll see if any Robin can win the board game he calls so stupid.’

“Yeah, yeah.” Jason chided. “What kind of bet did you have in mind?” 

‘Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.’ You explained. 

“Loser does all the dishes for two weeks.” Gar explained it to him. 

“Loser between the three of you.” Rachel corrected with a smirk. 

“Loser between the two of them. I’m just the messenger.” Gar quickly told her. 

“The winner gets the last Twinkie from my stash.” Jason added, upping the ante of the bet. 

Gar and Rachel’s eyes practically began glowing (especially considering what their powers made them capable of) at the mere mention of junk food. 

Dick had pretty much banned any food that was considered unhealthy. He said it wasn’t good for training. ‘Why put garbage in the tank? It doesn’t make the engine run properly’ he always nagged. 

The few times you and Rachel had been ‘caught’ coming back from a 7/11 with a bag full of goodies, he had made you read the labels out loud to ‘justify what you were putting inside your bodies’, and blah, blah, blah. So you liked eating sugar? Big deal. 

Eventually all his nagging just made you guys give up, or eat your doses of junk food outside the house (during the rare times he actually let you guys out). But of course, it just made Jason more determined to sneak things in. And of course, with his delinquent mindset, he had come up with a perfect system that involved wearing an overly large coat and keeping food in a false bottom drawer he had created in his room. He had started making you guys do him favors in exchange for snacks, but a lot of the time, it was worth it. 

“Ante up!” Rachel ordered. “Twinkie on the table!” She smacked her palm flat on the table, glaring Jason down until he rose from his seat to go retrieve the desired item. 

… 

You were enjoying game night far more than you thought you would. 

Everyone was, actually. Rousing laughter and chatter filled the room as you all took your turns, argued over the rules, and raced to see who would win. Your mind was distracted far from any sexual thoughts of Gar. You weren’t focused on the things you had accidentally seen when mistakenly crossing the threshold of his mind, or the heated dreams it had caused you to have. For the first time in weeks, a great worry had been lifted from your shoulders. 

Which was probably why it happened. You were probably a fool to think you were safe - to think this new power you had discovered couldn’t act up just because you were sitting around with your friends, innocently playing a board game. 

Gar turned to you, picking up one of the trivia cards to ask you your question as your turn came around. 

“Alright, science.” He announced. “How many bones are in the human body? Is it A: 206, B: 104, C: 198, or D: 236?” 

When he had finished reading it, his eyes flickered up from the card in his hand and met with yours. You were damned by fate as you were once again drawn into the depths of a hot, wicked fantasy of his creation. 

It was another third-person perspective of him and yourself, a portrait of perfect intimacy. 

In the wicked fantasy, he had you pinned against a wall, both of you completely naked - his sweet, bare flesh pinning your heated body against the surface. His breath mingled with yours as pressed kisses into your mouth, clearly torn between claiming your lips over and over again or the simple act of breathing. He wasn’t sure which was more precious - the taste of your mouth under his or the bits of air he needed to survive. 

He had one of your legs hitched up around his hip, your knee up around his back, giving the perfect view as he shoved his cock inside of you. He was so large - hot and heavy, splitting you open with his monster cock without hesitation as your needy cunt dripped around him. He let out a grunt as the wet slide of your pussy enveloped him, loving the most tender touch of your warmth on his aching cock. 

The fat around your hip bloomed through his fingers as he held you steady, hammering his hips against yours. It created a wet smacking sound that sent electricity shooting through you, the fantasy so palpable that you could almost feel the thickness of his cock tearing you open - you could almost feel the heft of those mighty nine inches dragging against your deadly hot inner walls. 

You admired the glisten of sweat on his rippling back muscles, the hot grunts that poured from his swollen lips. You loved the sight of your nails digging into his skin as you gripped his shoulders, desperate to hold on. 

“You’re so good for me.” He murmured against your panting lips, his voice deep, absolutely thick with sex. “I love this pussy so fucking much.” 

“Y/N?” 

This time it took Gar’s voice echoing in your ears in the real world to pull you out of the vivid daydream. 

“You okay?” The pure sweetness of his tone, the quiet caring had you quaking almost as much as the heft of his daydream cock. 

Your pussy throbbed hard between your thighs and your face was burning hot. You could feel the beginnings of sweat glistening on your forehead, and you hoped that your physical reaction to what you had seen wasn’t too obvious in the dull lighting of the room. Perhaps you could blame it on sitting too close to the fireplace. 

You dared to let your eyes have a once-over of Gar’s face, hoping not to be pulled back into the stupor once again. He was looking at you with that familiar wide-eyed, positively clueless expression. He was sitting there thinking about fucking you up against a wall and he had absolutely no clue that you knew. 

“Don’t think too hard about it,” Rachel scoffed. “It’s a pretty softball question.” 

Fuck, right. You were supposed to be playing trivia. 

You had genuinely no idea what the question had been, and wouldn’t dare ask Gar to repeat it for fear of giving yourself away, so you simply picked an answer out of the blue. 

‘C.’ You gestured the sign for the single letter, hoping it was correct if it was supposed to be such a ‘softball’ of a question. 

“Wrong.” Gar sighed, placing the card in the used pile. 

“I thought it was 207?” Jason wondered out loud, sounding genuinely confused. “Oh wait, that’s the joke answer.” 

“Ew.” Rachel cringed. “Don’t be gross.” 

“Hey,” Gar placed a gentle hand on your forearm where it was resting on the table, capturing your attention. “Are you okay? You really zoned out for a minute there.” 

Oh god. He was being so sweet and caring. You almost hated it, because you knew you couldn’t tell him what you had truly seen. You couldn’t explain what was truly wrong with you. 

‘I’m fine.’ You assured him, pulling your hand naturally out of his warm grasp to communicate. You hoped he wouldn’t notice that you were pulling away from him to avoid the heat of his touch and refusing to look at his face. 

“I’m sure she’s fine, Gar.” Rachel smiled. 

You nodded. 

“Some people’s brains just get fried when they’re asked to be smart on the spot.” She added on - this being sass that was clearly directed at Jason. It made you laugh. 

It then moved on to someone else’s turn, and you were glad the focus had shifted away from you. 

…  

Just like everything you had touched lately, game night turned into a disaster. 

Jason realized he wasn’t going to win after he lost one too many pop culture questions. Ones based on movies and shows that he hadn’t even seen. And he claimed it ‘wasn’t even fair’ because he was being questioned based on material that he had no knowledge of. 

When Gar and Rachel told him that was just how the game worked, he proceeded to pull the ‘I was poor growing up, of course I didn’t watch those movies cause I didn’t have a TV’ card. When that got him no sympathy, he flipped the table. A screaming match broke out between the three of them, and everyone stormed off to their separate corners, leaving you to clean up the pieces. Quite literally. 

You managed to find and pick up all the game pieces in the shaggy area rug, and you put them back inside the game box. You figured they might be useful in the future in case everyone made up and did want to play the game again sometime. One of the last things left on the carpet was the crushed Twinkie, which had been smashed by the weight of the coffee table when Jason flipped it over. 

It was still nicely inside its plastic packaging, but it had become a crumbled mixture of cake pieces and artificial frosting, rather than the golden log it once was. You shoved it in your pocket - it was definitely something Gar would still enjoy. Though your relationship with him was strange and strained lately, you would still give it to him. 

You put everything back in the living area exactly as it had been, not wanting to tip off Dick to what had happened. He already had enough reasons to be on Jason’s case, you didn’t want to give him one more. Even though Jason was a bit of a parasite, you thought it was basic decency to have his back. 

Just as you were finished tidying, Dick returned through the elevator, heaving several bags of groceries in both his arms. 

“How was game night?” He smiled at you as you came over to take a few of the bags from him. 

You smiled back, giving him an exaggerated thumbs up with your free hand. 

You knew he had picked up some basic signs in the time of knowing you, but he was nowhere near as fluent as Gar, or even Jason. So you stuck to simple ASL with him, or gave him exaggerated facial expressions. Or just wrote things down on paper or texted like you did with most other people. 

“Good.” His voice held an edge of relief to it. “The four of you should be spending more time together. It’s good for team morale.” 

You felt slightly guilty for lying to him, but you didn’t want to get the others in trouble for something that really wasn’t their fault. He couldn’t force you guys to enjoy spending time together if it wasn’t going to come naturally. 

You put away the groceries in relative silence. Once you had finished folding the reusable bags and putting them away, you were going to escape to your room when Dick caught your attention once again. 

“Um, one more thing.” He said, stopping you in your tracks, making you turn around to face him. You looked at him with curious eyes, and he continued speaking. “It’s probably none of my business, but… is there something going on between you and Gar? You guys used to be like… best friends, and now you hardly ever spend time with him.” 

You felt a dizziness overtake you - that hard drop of your blood pressure from feeling so caught. 

It was like the days when you had first met Gar, when your feelings for him were so bold and unrestrained. And anytime someone mentioned his name around you, you practically melted into a puddle. 

In response to Dick, you simply shrugged. You knew that you looked entirely guilty as your eyes darted around the room - to the counter, the floor, the dull embers in the fire pit - anywhere but at him. 

“Listen, I know this life can be pretty isolating. Especially when you have unique powers. Which is not something I know personally. But I have seen you struggle with it - with using your powers, holding back that unique ability you have when you should be using it and living up to your potential. And I’ve seen Gar help you through it in ways that no one else could.” 

Dick’s words, coming from such a steady and authoritative voice did shock you. You were surprised that he considered your powers to be a ‘unique potential’ - rather than the dangerous, privacy invasion tool that you always saw it as. You were even more surprised to hear that he had observed the ways Gar had helped you when you struggled with the decision to hold back or not, the moral confliction of it all. 

“It’s good to have someone like that. Someone you can rely on. Someone who knows what it’s like. You just… you shouldn’t push him away. You probably need him now more than ever.” 

His words were solid concrete in the otherwise quiet room, weighing down your already heavy heart. 

Even though he had no idea why you had been pushing Gar away, strangely… he was right. You finally looked up to find your mentor’s cold steel gaze staring you down. 

‘Thank you.’ You mouthed the words along with the sign, just in case he didn’t know what it meant. 

He nodded at you, silently releasing you from the conversation. You mindlessly put your hands into the pockets of your sweater as you walked away, and you felt the gentle crinkle of the Twinkie’s wrapper. You decided that you should go visit Gar before you went to bed. 

When you approached his bedroom door, you were surprised to see that it was open. You peered inside, peeking your head around the corner, and you found Gar sprawled out on his bed. His laptop was on his stomach as he stared at the white-blue glow with a bored expression on his face. He was likely studying. Trying this best to. 

You knocked on the open door to make your presence known. He jumped slightly as you broke his concentration, but he quickly recovered from being startled. He sat up fully and put his laptop to the side, the screen still open and casting a glow into the dimly lit room. You didn’t wait for an invitation to come in, and his gaze was drawn to you as you walked into the room, not bothering to shut the door behind you. 

“Y/N. Hey,” He smiled at you, pleasantly surprised that you had come to see him. “Fancy seeing you here.” 

A small twinge of guilt flared in your stomach. 

You felt bad for avoiding him for reasons that weren’t truly his fault. You felt bad for putting a strain on your friendship with him because you couldn’t control your stupid powers. You felt bad that you couldn’t just tell him the truth. 

And a huge part of you felt even worse that you couldn’t control your own lust simply because you knew that he felt somewhat lustful toward you. 

As your eyes glanced at his wide thighs spread out on the bed, even covered by his jeans, your pussy ached. You couldn’t stop thinking about the way those thighs had worked as he thrust his cock in and out of you when he had you pinned to the wall in that fantasy. You hated how your mind was so hyper-focused on something that wasn’t even real. Maybe it was just hotter and more wicked because you knew it was a fantasy of his creation. It drove you more insane because it was something he apparently wanted just as badly as you did. 

Even if you could never tell him you wanted it as badly as he did because of the way you had found out. 

‘I thought you might want this.’ You signed to him. 

Past the hazy fog of your lust clouded thoughts, you remembered why you had come to see Gar in the first place. You took the smashed, pathetic Twinkie out of your pocket and presented it to him with a small grin. 

“Oh thanks!” He was eager to take it from you, ripping open the packaging and taking a bite of the crumbling cake. 

“Yeah, definitely still good.” He assured you with his mouthful, giving you a cheeky smile and a thumbs up. 

You were happy that you had finally done something right. You gave him a small thumbs up in return and went to leave again. But he was quick, abandoning his snack on the bed and jumping up to interrupt your path before you could escape. 

“Y/N, wait. I was hoping we could talk.” He said quietly, his voice full of a strained hope. “I miss you.” 

Even as he pleaded for your attention, your eyes were stuck at your feet. Rather than daring to look up at him, you stared hard at the space where his green socked toes stood in front of yours. You had no clue what exactly was triggering these ‘episodes’ with your powers, but you knew it had something to do with him. You couldn’t risk it, not again. 

You loved how almost all of his clothes were green - a choice he often made because he said it was easier to match his hair the way it now naturally grew from his head. The color would forever remind you of him whenever it came up in life. He had taken everything green in your life and possessed it as his own so that it made you smile whenever you saw it. So that anything green would make you mourn for him long after he had left your life in one way or another. You hated it and loved it at the same time. 

“If I did something wrong, please just tell me. I wanna fix it.” His voice flexed under the weight of his pain. 

It was intensely difficult for you to listen to. 

It sliced through you like a knife. 

Your selfish acts, your uncontrollable, stupid powers and the way you ran from the consequences had somehow convinced him that he had done something wrong. 

Tears pricked your eyes. 

You racked your gaze carefully up his body, and your eyes landed on a piece of vanilla cake crumb that had gotten stuck to his chin from the Twinkie. Just the look of it, something that was so foolish and unserious and so Gar in this very serious moment made you crack a smile. Instinctually, you reached over and brushed it away with your thumb. 

He sighed out a half-breath that could be perceived as a laugh when he realized what you were smiling at. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously at the thought of his own clumsiness. 

‘You have done nothing wrong.’ You assured him, keeping your eyes locked on the wall behind his ear. ‘You never do anything wrong. You’re so good.’ 

“Then what is it?” He pressed. “Will you please just look at me?” 

He used a gentle hand on your chin to force your eyes towards his, and before you could stop it, you were caught up in it again. You were once again sucked into the complicated swell of his beautiful mind. 

But this time it was distinctly different. This time it wasn’t some heated fantasy, wasn’t some painted imagining. 

This was a memory of something that had already happened. It was most definitely a memory you knew well. Although this time it was like you were watching it from the outside - or rather, you were watching it from Gar’s perspective. 

It was a vision of you knelt on the bathroom floor, puking into a toilet. The sounds of your own sickness easily made you cringe. Gar didn’t flinch or feel any disgust though. 

You could feel his emotions like the grooves of a record, carved into the memory and being replayed. All he felt was a great wave of sadness for you. Instinctually, not really knowing what else to do, he reached out and placed a comforting hand on your back as your muscles lurched with another wave of gags, forced by your body’s ill-made systems. 

It was a specific night that you remembered well. 

You had only been in Doctor Caulder’s care for a few weeks at the time, but it had become evident that even though the serum had cured your blindness, your intense migraines and even the occasional seizures caused by your brain tumor still persisted. 

You had crawled to the bathroom with the intention of dealing with your ailments in privacy. But Gar’s room was right next to yours, and he had heard you groaning in pain, had heard you throwing up and gasping for breath because of the pure force of the vomit. 

So he did the only thing he could think to do. He got a glass of water for you to rinse your mouth when you were done, and then he simply sat with you, trying to bring you some comfort in your time of need. He felt hollow and useless as you heaved into the toilet, nothing left in your stomach to give up but bright green stomach bile, your body forcing every last bit of it out as the migraine raged on. 

When the heaving stopped, he pulled you into his lap. He was ready with a warm, damp cloth to put on your forehead, and a towel to wipe your mouth. You relaxed into his calming touch. He bloomed with pride at being able to hold you in his arms, being able to keep you safe, even if he couldn’t heal you from what ailed you. 

‘You can leave.’ You signed to him. 

At the time, he understood it well, even with just a few weeks of studying under his belt. 

A small wave of offense went through him. He didn’t want to leave you. Why would he leave you in such a weak state? He wanted to help you. That’s why he’d gotten out of bed in the first place. 

“I’m not gonna leave.” He told you. “I won’t leave you. Ever.” 

At the time you had been far too sick to really take in the weight of his words. But now, lingering in the memory, you could feel the determination sitting deep in his chest. The affection for you as it swelled inside him, the way he held you just a bit closer. 

You were shocked back to the cold concrete of reality when he gripped your arm in the present, pulling you out of the sweetness of the memory by force. He spoke something that was muffled and full in your ears as you struggled to pull yourself out of the thickness of his clouded mind. The expression on your face must have told him you hadn’t heard him, because he repeated himself. 

“Will you please just tell me what’s wrong?” He demanded, his voice sharp with worry. 

‘Nothing’s wrong.’ You lied, shaking yourself from his grip. ‘I have to go study.’ 

You ran from the room before he could confront you any further. 

Your mind was positively drowning with thoughts about Gar. Did he feel the same way about you? Had he felt the same way about you since the two of you had met? 

Your mind was so clouded that you slammed into your closed bedroom door before you could remember to actually turn the doorknob and open it. It left you cursing internally as you rubbed the sore spot blooming in the middle of your forehead. 

This crush was going to ruin you. 

… 

Unfortunately, you couldn’t easily avoid Gar forever. 

The next day, when Dick was giving out assignments, he paired up you and Gar for sparring practice right before he pulled aside Jason and Rachel for a quiz on the assigned reading material. You tried to wave him down, wanting to protest about having Gar as a partner - but of course, he didn’t read ASL. And he didn’t give you any room to protest as he spouted off about what kind of drills the two of you should be practicing and told you that he would come by in two hours to ‘check-in’ on your progress. 

You wanted to scream. Sometimes, not having a voice truly, utterly sucked. 

You thought perhaps it was Dick’s way of forcing you to make good on the advice he had given you the night before - forcing you to spend time with Gar so that you would stop pushing him away. But it was so damn inconvenient when you still didn’t know what was causing your powers to act up. 

As you walked to the training room, you told yourself again and again that you could bear two hours alone with Gar. Especially because one of the drills that Dick wanted you to practice was blindfolded sparring. That was an easy way not to have your powers flare-up against your will. You told yourself that you needed to get back to normal. You couldn’t have Gar thinking that you hated him - thinking that he was the reason for your strange behavior when he was truly the best, kindest person in your life. 

Well, technically he was the reason for your strange behavior. But not at all in the way he blamed himself for. And you wouldn’t have him thinking that he had fucked up your friendship somehow or pissed you off unintentionally for some reason he couldn’t even name. 

You and Gar exchanged a few words - you agreed that you would wear the blindfold and try to defend against his attacks, and he joked that he would ‘go easy’ on you. It felt delightfully normal between the two of you for a few minutes. 

He gave you one of his perfectly dorky smiles and you felt butterflies in your stomach. Beyond his wildly attractive body, beyond that sexual heat - you remembered why you had fallen for him in the first place. Those boyish charms, that gentle nature that made him so irresistible as a friend and so easy to yearn for as a lover. 

When you put the blindfold on, it felt like a comforting shield against his wild daydreams, trying to buck free from his mind. You both picked up the wooden swords, and when he asked if you were ready, you nodded. 

Unfortunately, you were not exactly on your game. 

Usually, you were quite a skilled fighter. You could keep up with the likes of Jason Todd, who trained night and day just to prove how skilled he was. Your powers gave you slightly honed senses, giving you the ability to hear more acutely, giving you the advantage in a situation like this. 

But that was part of the problem. You were picking up on Gar’s breathing, the heavy panting coming from his lips as he swung the practice sword and started to work up a sweat. Your concentration was clouded by the small grunts he made as he worked his muscles, and the careful, skilled movement of his footfalls as he charged at you. 

He easily landed a few blows - gentle, purposefully light swats - on your arms and torso, and he distinctly noticed you not making any real effort to dodge or fight back. Your mind was too busy churning with the mental image of him sweaty from the effort, imagining those same grunts as he fucked you. 

This crush was going to ruin you. 

Gar stopped his movements, and you relaxed your body, pausing any half-efforts you were making to fight him off. 

“Are you okay?” He asked. “Do you have a migraine or something? Do you need to go lay down?” 

Of course. He was concerned for your well-being. It was something that only made him sweeter, and only made you twinge with guilt at what had been going through your mind. 

‘Fine.’ You responded, performing the sign with one hand, still clutching the practice sword with the other. ‘Keep going.’ 

You heard Gar sigh - clearly somewhat hesitant. 

But then he swung his sword down again, and when you heard it whipping through the air, you made a distinct effort to block it this time. You raised yours up, blocking the blow. He let out a quiet chuckle, pleased now that you were better focused this time around. 

You really tried harder. 

You found yourself blocking his blows, using your own swift footwork, and even then - your unconscious distraction was apparent. 

Usually you were better with your tactile awareness, but as the edge of the mats came under your foot, you didn’t notice. And Gar, ever concerned for your safety, used his non-sword hand to reach out and grab your arm. He quickly yanked you back from the edge in case you tripped and fell. He wouldn’t want you to hit your head on the concrete floor, even if it wouldn’t be a terribly grievous injury. 

But he was pumping with energy from the mock fight, and when he pulled you in, he used far more force than he had intended to. It wasn’t a simple correction of your footing like he intended. He accidentally sent your distracted legs tripping over each other and sent you barreling right into him. With the momentum, you knocked him completely off his legs. You ended up falling right on top of Gar as he landed splayed out on the mats, on his back. 

Gar broke into a gentle laughter, finding the entire thing to be quite amusing. 

His hands naturally found your hips and warmth spread out from there, something that quickly overwhelmed your senses. You dropped your practice sword with a numb hand as you became entirely heated by the feeling of his rock hard body beneath yours. Upon instinct, you reached up, and pulled the blindfold up to rest on your forehead - which turned out to be a terrible mistake. 

In that moment, you came face to face with Gar’s stunning, big brown eyes and you were once again sucked into one of his heated fantasies against your will. 

Unlike the others, this wasn’t a picture you were viewing. It wasn’t something in his mind that you were only seeing from the third perspective. 

No - you were in this. 

Somehow, he had drawn you so deeply into his fantasy this time that you were in it, participating in it, truly feeling it. 

In the daydream, you were sitting on top of him, easily paralleling your current reality.

But in this dreamy version, he was completely naked, and you felt the delightfully throbbing hum of his cock deep inside of you. Because it was just a dream, it wasn’t nearly as distinct as the real thing would have been. But the feeling quickly spread heat through your entire body. Especially when paired with the visuals his imagination had conjured up for you. 

The feeling of his hands on your hips in the real world easily turned into a searing burn that you were sure you could feel on your bare skin. You looked down at him below you, as though you were really straddling his naked body, proudly riding his impressively large cock. His taut muscles rippled under sweaty skin - his abs flexing with the effort, his biceps bulging as he held onto you. 

All of it so enticingly topped off by the sight of his face, his forehead glistening with sweat, stray green hairs stuck to it. The expression he held was almost beautifully pathetic as he struggled with such overwhelming pleasure - his lip snagged between his teeth, his brow heavily creased. Quiet, desperate whimpers escaping from his throat as he guided you to grind on his thickness. 

You let out a sharp moan of your own, desperately aching for breath, and that chugging in your throat was the thing that sucked out of the deep fog of this fantasy. 

When you looked into Gar’s eyes once more, you saw the look of dawning on his face. It was mingled with confusion, but you knew that this time, he had felt it too. He had felt you on a deeper level, and he knew, even if he couldn’t nearly explain it - the two of you had shared that experience on a deeper level. 

And what’s more - out here in the real world, not in some sense of fantasy, you could feel his hardness throbbing against your leg. And it felt just as large and impressive as it was in all those dreams. You knew that your cunt was likely boiling hot against him, giving you away. And though the temptation to lean down and ensnare his mouth was so intense, the temptation to beg him to fuck you right then and there - something inside of you kept chanting:

‘Don’t ruin your friendship. He’s your best friend. Don’t fuck it up.’ 

And somehow, miraculously, fighting against all of your overpowering lust - you listened to that voice. You rushed to get off of him, scrambling off the floor to a standing position on shaking legs. You tried your best to ignore the entirely painful throbbing between your legs as your pussy screamed out for him, for his touch. 

Naturally, Gar thought that he had freaked you out. He thought that the reason you had jumped away from him so fast was because he had a raging hard-on and you were intensely disgusted by it. In his mind, he couldn’t easily see it being the exact opposite reason. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry.” He rushed to apologize. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. My body - my body just - reacted-” 

Gar also rose to his feet, awkwardly tugging at the crotch of his loose workout pants to try and disguise it. You made the mistake of glancing at the tent and visually confirmed that it was just as large as he made it out to be in all of his fantasies (and yours). 

‘It’s fine.’ You sighed to him. 

You were once again making steady eye contact with the floor - trying not to get drawn back into his mind. But it only made Gar feel more awkward, more like he had wronged you. 

Gar’s throat immediately numbed when you turned and left to charge out of the room. You were intensely surprised when you felt his hand on your arm once more - that firm, commanding touch pulling you back once again. 

Wrestling with the embarrassment inside of him was a storm of anger. 

The fact that even now, you were so unwilling to talk to him about any of the problems in your friendship. You just kept brushing him off. It caused a very uncharacteristic flare of annoyed rage inside of him that he just couldn’t swallow down. So with the hand that he wasn’t using to hide his boner, he kept that grip on your arm. He forced you to stay, forcing you to turn back and face him. 

Him asserting himself like that, the show of force over you - oddly enough, it only added to the arousal boiling inside of you. A small whimper escaped from your lips, and you resisted the urge to smack a hand over your mouth in some attempt to hide it. You knew that Gar had definitely heard it when his face shifted from that tense anger to a look of sheer guilt. He thought that the grip on your arm had somehow hurt you. 

“I’m sorry.” He repeated himself, quickly dropping the grip on your arm. He was glad when you stayed of your own volition this time. “But, can you just talk to me? Please?” 

You hated to ignore his pleas, your own guilt curling in your stomach. 

After a moment with no response from you, more anger splashed up inside of him. 

“I hate this.” 

He said quietly, his voice almost breaking under the weight of his pain. 

“I hate how we aren’t close anymore. We don’t talk, we don’t spend time together anymore. I feel like I barely even know you…” 

He quickly gained momentum in his ranting, his words picking up from a dull whisper. You crossed your arms, keeping your eyes on the floor. You knew that you were the perfect target for all of his upset - so you simply took it. 

“This place is changing everyone!” He barked, motioning around wildly to the walls. “I’m living with my best friends and I’ve never felt so damn alone!” 

As his words echoed in the open space, he looked at you with intensely sad eyes, obviously waiting for you to say something - waiting for an apology. 

But any explanation you could give would mean admitting that your powers had gone haywire. It would mean telling him that you had been invading his privacy without permission. It was bound to screw up your friendship and leave him feeling just as alone. You clasped your fists tight, staying entirely still while he waited for an answer. 

“Fine then.” He said quietly, absolutely defeated. 

He was the one to charge away this time, harshly smacking his shoulder against yours in anger. He kicked down a rack of weapons on his way out. 

You hear him let out a harsh, exasperated ‘fuck!’ when he got halfway down the hall. 

At that point, you couldn’t help the tears that escaped as the pain surged through your chest. 

Maybe you had fucked up the friendship in an entirely different way.

...

Keep Reading Here: Part Two - Our Past, Our Present, Our Future

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.

#sundrop writes #gar logan #garfield logan #gar logan x reader #garfield logan x reader #titans #dc titans #dc titans x reader #titans x reader #dc fanfiction #dc titans fanfiction #titans fanfiction

[minimalist-language-learning]

How I read and enjoy books in my target language

Please note that I write about what works for me and share advice based on my own experiences. If you have a different opinion or if you use other methods, that's absolutely fine. Do whatever works for you.

Since some people asked me how I read books in my target languages, I would like to describe my way of reading in this post. I focus on reading for some time now and I'm very happy with my progress so far. This doesn't mean that I won't change a few things in the future (I'm constantly gaining experience and changing my learning style accordingly).

1. Choosing a book

Before I start reading, I have to choose an appropriate book, obviously. After trial and error I realized how important this step is. My ideal book is:

not too easy (I won't learn much)

not too difficult (if I can't follow at least the rough story I won't enjoy it)

interesting (motivation to read it)

I try to choose a book that is slightly above my level so that I can follow the story without looking up too many words but also learn new words. I don't need to understand everything, but I don't want to feel lost either. Balance is important.

2. Trying the first chapter

After choosing a book that seems to be appropriate, I try to read the first chapter (and sometimes the first two chapters, if they are short). I pay attention to things like:

Can I follow the story?

Is the story interesting?

Do I like the writing style?

If I can answer (most) questions like these with "yes", I continue reading the book.

Do I only understand single words or sentences here and there? Do I have no clue what happens? Then I put the book aside for now and choose an easier one. There's no shame in admitting that this book is too difficult at the moment. Deciding what I don't read is just as important as deciding what I read.

3. Reading

If the level of difficulty is okay, I start reading the book. In my experience, the first few chapters are always the hardest. I need time to get used to the writing style, the used vocabulary and the story. 

In the case of the japanese version of Harry Potter, the beginning was difficult because of the writing style. But after two chapters, I began to enjoy the story and so I continued. That's why I always try to read at least the first chapter. A book that seems difficult in the beginning can be very enjoyable once I've read enough pages. 

When I come across an interesting word or a sentence I like, I highlight it. I try to not highlight too much stuff, though. Two, maybe three words per page is usually my maximum. Enjoying the story is my number one priority. I can read several pages without highlighting anything, even though there are words I don't know. As long as I don't feel the strong urge to look up a word, I just continue reading. 

In many cases I can understand words from context and learn them over time just by seeing them again and again. That's why I don't look up words immediately. I wait to see if they come up more often.

After I finished one chapter, I look up all highlighted words and read the passages that contain these words a second time. This way, I can connect the meaning with the full context. I don't try to memorize the word; I just try to understand it in this particular context before I continue. 

Most of the time, I learn words unconsciously. If the book is easy enough, it's not so difficult to guess the meaning of certain words. While reading, I don't focus so much on words I don't know. I just focus on following the story. I may not always understand every detail, but as long as I can follow and enjoy the story, everything is fine. I learn so much by engaging with the language in a meaningful way and enjoying the content. Sometimes, I even forget that I am reading a book in a foreign language!

I have to add, that I'm already familiar with basic sentence patterns and that I have experience with reading books in my target languages. I finished the book "Remembering the Kanji" which makes it easier to guess the meaning of words. Knowing lots of kanji is a great advantage.

I have still a long way to go, of course, but this natural way of learning vocabulary may not work well at very early stages because you need a foundation first. After you are familiar with the dialogues and example sentences in your textbook, graded readers are a good choice in my opinion. Graded readers can make the transition from textbooks to easy books aimed at (young) native speakers easier.

Tip: One thing that helped me is to take a card, write down words I looked up and put this card into the book. When I read it a second time, I don't need to look them up again. Reading texts more than once can help to get more familiar with new words. Plus, writing helps me to remember words better. Reviewing them in their original context is much more enjoyable to me than reviewing them with flashcards. In the picture below you can see how my cards look like:

4. Enjoy!

I made enjoying books my number one priority. This is what helped me to make much more progress than before. All I need is enough reading material at the right level and a dictionary. As soon as I get absorbed in a book, I don't think about learning a language. I just want to enjoy the story. The more experience I gain, the better I become at understanding the language as a result. There's no need to force it or to hurry.

What I like about just enjoying a book and learning words naturally is that it's so simple. I don't necessarily need my computer, a certain software, add-ons, ... All I need is something I can read. After reading a chapter, I only look up a few words as I described above and that's it. Then, I often feel so motivated that I want to read more. I read much more than before because I enjoy it so much.

#langblr #japanese learning #languagelearning #self study #language learning tips #foreign languages

[pilotispunk]

French Lessons 2

Part 1 | Part 3

One Shot: Late Night Talking

Less than a month ago Steven Grant could barely kiss you and now he's learned to fuck you with his tongue. 

Summary: It's been several weeks since you and Steven had your first night together and you're wondering what happened to your sweet French tutor during the morning after?

Rating: Explicit 18+ (By proceeding to read beyond this warning, you agree that you are 18 years or older)

Word Count: 5K

Content: Explicit Smut, dry humping, fingering, oral (m and f), fluff, romance, sliiiiight French, Steven Grant, slight reference to Marc Spector

A/N: Thank you so much for your kind words and notes on part 1 and patience on part 2!!! SO much has been going on but I'm glad I could get this out to you guys. I really hope you enjoy it, like and reblog!!!

A new day cones into the light as the sunlight trickles through your curtains and dances on your face. You stretch your legs arms and legs as far as they’ll go, feet digging into your bed as you turn slowly to your nightstand to grab your phone.

You scroll through the usual notifications; Facebook, Twitter, your mates that went out last night and the one that one that wakes you up and makes you giddier than any expresso shot ever would. 

Steven 🇫🇷❤️

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

You snickered at the texts and sent a simple, quick reply that you would see him tonight and that you couldn’t wait. 

This wasn’t exactly a new development. Every morning for the past two and a half weeks, Steven has been sending you a good morning text right on schedule, worrying that it’s “too early” although by this time he absolutely knows your schedule to the point of your skincare routine. You and Steven talk about anything and everything, though it never gets old. Every time you hear from him it makes your heart skip a beat and reminisce to the first time you met him in that museum, praising your faulty wired headphones for allowing that quirky gift shop employee to eavesdrop his way into your life. 

Then came the French lessons and your friendship because he was just so damn easy to talk to, so caring, so warm. So there was no surprise that you quickly developed feelings for him even though you were terrified that he didn’t feel the same way but then one incredible night together proofed he felt something too. A night you hadn’t forgotten about but hadn’t repeated.

After that night, things intimately had hit a standstill. You replay the morning after Steven had woken up at your apartment; he was quiet, in a hurry and ready to go only muttering out one-word sentences and one quick, heart emoji text message that was supposed to sustain you through the day. 

At first you didn’t know what the hell had happened, but the next day, you suppose after everything had settled in and his shyness had melted, all of your days were consumed in conversation with him. Sweet, funny text messages, silly facts about random things he encounters during his day at the museum and awkward but endearing attempts at flirting. Things seemed to have been going well, you still see each other for French lessons that also turned into dinner dates and the occasional lunch pop ups at the museum, but apart from that you’ve had virtually no alone time together. 

You’d understand if it was because he wasn’t ready to escalate things as far as you had during your night together, but when you send him excerpts of your favorite Victor Hugo passages, he sends messages like this: 

“Fun fact, Juliette Drouet who was a French actress back in Hugo’s day sent him a letter with excerpts maybe just as romantic as his. ‘I wear my soul out with longing’. Je porte mon âme avec nostalgie. Sorry if that long-winded explanation wasn’t as romantic as I was trying to execute…xx”

But it’s never not sweet or romantic with Steven. Though you still would kiss and hold hands, you missed the way his body locked around yours, warm and secure. You missed the French he whispered into your ear which had echoed through your mind late at night when your fingers would wander. You’d thought about messaging him but wouldn’t dare be that bold. 

You’d decided tonight’s French lesson was the night to ask where things were going. Through work, lunch and the commute home you kept thinking to yourself that the worst you could hear was that things would stay professional between you two, tutor and tutee. But you also knew Steven felt some sort of way about you, so why not figure it out?

You meet Steven at the usual French bistro you gather for your lessons and dinners, Steven sitting there prompt as usual, hands fiddling and looking down at his phone and then up and then down again until you meet him at the table. 

Every time he looks at you it makes your insides absolutely gelatinous. The wide-eyed wonder he would give you each time you saw each other as if it had been ages, even though it had only been since yesterday when you popped around the museum. You dressed up a bit to entice him; you dressed in his favorite color, scarlet red, in a floral sweetheart dress with your hair down in loose “effortless” looking curls (the effort took you 20 minutes). 

It didn’t matter if you had taken 5 minutes or 50 minutes to get ready, though because Steven would make you feel like the most beautiful woman in the world by his stare. He got up to greet you, giving you a shy wave before pulling you into a hug that seemed to linger more and more each time it happened. 

Normally, the two of you say hello with a chaste, quick kiss, saving deeper kisses for when you part. This time you wrapped your arms around his neck, greeting him with slow tender kisses as he let out a surprised noise when you slipped your tongue into his mouth. Slightly surprised at your candor, Steven freezes for a moment before he grips the arms he had around your waist and brings his tongue to yours. 

“Tu me manques.” He said to you with a lopsided grin. 

“I missed you too.” Your cheeks burned, and you realized you hadn’t stopped smiling since you saw him. 

“In French, mademoiselle.” Steven instructed back at you in a jokingly bossy tone. Joking or not, hearing Steven so authoritative was already being mentally saved in your head for your late night thoughts of him. 

“Well, that’s what I’m here for isn’t it?” You let him go and sat down. French and dinner went well as usual, with the conversation mixed between different phrases and sentences he’d have you write and conversations about your days and activities. 

Towards the end of the meal, Steven jolted up in his seat as if electricity struck him. 

“Oh! Before we keep going with sentences and phrases and all of that… I got you something.” He reaches under the table to hand you a large gift bag. You open the bag and see the white cover of Paul Simon’s Graceland vinyl. 

You try to muster up words to say while he looks very pleased with your reaction. “Steven… I don’t even know what to say.” 

“I hope it’s not too weird. I just remember you talking about how you and your mum used to listen to this when you were a kid and how you lost the vinyl that belonged to her, so I figured it was time you got a new one. Again, if this is remotely creepy that I remembered any of that— “

You shut him up by leaning across the table and greeting his lips with a tender kiss. 

“This is amazing. Thank you.” 

“You’re amazing.” He seeps out with hooded eyes, affectionate and warm for you. You sat back in your seat as the server came with your check and your dessert half eaten. You didn’t want this night to be over, you wanted to spend your night with Steven. 

“Maybe we could listen to it together? Tonight at my flat? I have that record player at my place and I know you have heard little of this album. I still can’t believe you’ve never heard ‘Diamonds on the Soles of Her Shoes’”

Steven’s face stiffened. “I’d love to, I just have an early work day tomorrow. Donna is making me pay for another tourist asking me for bloody directions to get to the London Eye.” 

You look down at your half eaten cake. “It’s fine. You wouldn’t need to stay over or anything.” 

“I know if I go over there I’ll be tempted to after the last time.” Steven grinned, reaching for your hand. 

“I mean, I don’t think it’ll be that bad.” You hold his hand in yours, rubbing his palms. “I think if we just spend some time together alone we can—“ 

“I CAN’T!” Steven says a little louder than expected. He quickly moves his hands from yours, looking away from embarrassment. You’re completely frozen in shock at his exclamation. 

“Alright, Steven. I am very confused but I will just make this easy for you - we can keep it strictly professional or if it even makes things better, I can find another French tutor…” 

“Wha-no-what are you going on about?” Steven asks. 

“I just… I like you. I think you like me but I’m not sure, I’m honestly not sure if you’d just rather keep this strictly business. I’m getting mixed signals.” 

“How?” He interjects. 

“Well, for starters, you yelled at me when I asked if you wanted to come back to mine.” 

“Yeah… yeah… that did just happen. But it wasn’t because I…I…” Steven stammered for a moment before taking a long, deep breath to collect himself. You weren’t sure what he was going to do next until he moved his chair to your side of the table, sitting next to you and grabbing both of your hands with such intensity you didn’t know what to expect. 

“Look…I like you. I like you a lot. I thought it was obvious, but it's clear I’ve been a total tosser. I’m just…different.” 

“I know that and I don’t care. I like you for who you are Steven and everything that comes with it. If that night was too much for you, or if you want to take it slow I completely understand— “

“Definitely not that.” Steven answers quickly, a smile creeping across his face remembering that night. 

“Do you remember what happened that morning? After I left your flat? Because I don’t.” He continued.

“What are you talking about?” You asked. Now you’re extremely confused and with no context. You say it a little louder than you would’ve liked and people at the other table are looking. 

“Shh, shh. Okay, yeah, maybe we should just get to your flat so we can sort this all out, yeah?” 

———————————

The walk to your flat is filled with small talk about the weather and how chilly it’s been lately, the way the trees sway and how you’ve had to pack an extra jumper for the evening work commute. You’re holding hands so Steven is still there with you but it’s not like he’s really there with you. As if he’s jumping to explain himself whenever it’s in safe earshot. 

You finally get to your flat and keep Steven’s hands in yours, bringing him over to the couch and greeting his lips with an assuring, tender kiss. 

“Tell me what’s on your mind.” You whisper to him. 

He takes a moment to answer, his hands are now slightly shaking. “Like I said, I don’t remember leaving your flat. I remember falling asleep next to you and I tried to stay up as long as I could so nothing like this would happen. And honestly, also because I was just so bloody happy. I’m going to be honest,I had fancied you a lot and for this to happen when I never thought it would…” 

He tilts his head down in shame and you cupped his chin in your hand, lifting him up towards you so you can meet his brown eyes. 

“You looked so beautiful in my arms and I just wanted to stay in that moment for as long as I could. But sooner than later I drifted off and then I woke up in my flat. Alone.” Steven emphasized the last word, despising that the first thing he didn’t see when he woke up was you. 

“We talked, though, Steven. It wasn’t much, but we’d kissed, you got dressed and you left.” 

“I know, I saw the bloody heart emoji.” Steven spattered out. “And trust me, if it was really me, I would’ve sent you more than a damn emoji after our first night together.” 

You were more puzzled than ever. “I thought you had just been shy?” 

“I’m shy but I’m not a prat.” Steven countered. “Listen, I don’t know what’s going on with me. My memory is shit, I wake up sometimes days later without a damn clue of what’s going on. It’s terrifying and sometimes I wake up hurt and—and — the last thing I want to do is hurt you and if I did, I would never forgive myself.” 

“Steven.” You whispered softly at him. “I’m not going to lie to you, I’m very confused right now but the last thing I think you would do is hurt me. I know you, I know your heart.” 

“Yeah, my heart is fine but everything else about me is a red flag. I know I sound insane, I know this all sounds like absolute bollocks and I don’t want to drag you into this— “Well,

“Well what if I want to be dragged into this?” You demanded. “I’m sure whatever this is, I can help you and we can figure this out together.” 

Steven is shaking, heaving so heavily that you feel you can hear every breath that seeps out of his lungs. This poor man was so wonderful, kind and thoughtful and believed he didn’t deserve any of that because of some stupid sleeping disorder. He doesn’t realize how much he offers, but you know you can show him what he does. 

You move your hand from his cheek, slowly trailing his neck onto his chest. You feel his hammering heartbeat. He turns himself away from you, looking dejected, ashamed. 

“I’m not going anywhere. I promise.” You whisper. You keep your hand on his heart and he slowly looks back towards you, locking his eyes in with yours. God, he was so beautiful. Wild dark curls trickling down his forehead, dark eyes that shone, those beautiful, broad lips. He shifted a bit, noticing you were studying him and becoming self-conscious. 

How could he be so blind to his beauty? 

His heart rate was slowing down and normalize after a few deep breaths. 

“Just promise me, you’ll do what’s best for you. And if that’s not me at some point…” He trailed off. 

You planted another soft kiss on his lips to silence his thoughts. He responded with a warm smile as he moved one of his hands to hold the hand that was on his chest. 

He leaned forward and started to plant small kisses on every part of your face, ultimately meeting your lips again. It started soft and tender, your pace matching the calming energy of your previous moment. You moved your hands away from his chest, wrapping your arms around him as he brought his to your waist. 

That movement caused Steven to deepen the kiss. Sliding his tongue into your mouth as you both let out a moan. Your hands roamed into Steven’s curls, running and tugging through his hair as your need for him deepened. 

He broke free of the kiss only to trail needy, ravenous kisses down your throat as he grabbed at the back of your neck to hold you steady.

“Steven” You moaned, his hands moving to your clothed breasts, massaging them. 

“Oh, this dress, darling. You look amazing.” He slurred, almost in a trance. You find his lips again, more desperate than the last time as your bodies move together to lie down on the couch. You can already feel how firm he is as he clings on to you, his body demanding you without thinking. 

You press him upwards, wrapping your legs around him to straddle. You pull your dress over your head, thanking the universe you had worn a cute set of underwear that day. The way Steven was looking at you with hooded eyes and hands traveling everywhere, not sure what to touch first made it clear he was thankful too. 

He began a steady rhythm, pressing into you again, groaning whenever the heat between your legs met his at the height of its pressure. Just feeling him was enough to take you to the edge and satisfy you, but tonight you wanted to please Steven. Anything to take his mind off of his constantly running thoughts. Wherever his mind was running, you wanted to be his sanctuary at the end of the road. 

Somehow, Steven kissed you even deeper than you had already been intertwined. Tongues swirling together as he groaned into your mouth. He moved the hand that was on your breast and slid it up your leg, feeling at the lacy material of your panties. 

“I’ve been dreaming of feeling you again.” Steven panted into your mouth and you could feel your wetness pooling your core. Steven moved to slide his fingers into your underwear. 

“Really feeling you.” As much as you were throbbing for him, this was the moment you wanted to give to Steven. You moved his hand away from your crotch as he looked down, puzzled. You drizzled reassuring kisses all over his face as you slowly undressed him, and when it came to removing his boxers, you repositioned yourself on the floor, kneeled down in front of him. 

You gently tugged his boxers down and his cock sprung out, thick, pulsing, deprived for you. You saw some liquid glistening at his tip and your mouth watered. 

“I’ve been dreaming about really feeling you too, Steven.” You whispered in a sultry voice. Your hand met his base with a tight clasp as you moved it up and down. You had forgotten your hand could barely fit around Steven’s entire dick, and he was so hard you could feel every vein. 

“You—you don't have—“ Steven could barely muster words with how tight you were gripping him.

“I want to.” You licked the precum off of his tip making Steven jerk up slightly. You chuckled at his reaction, this was just the beginning. 

You licked up his base, slowly at first, watching his chest heave as you quickened the pace. Your eyes stayed locked on his as he couldn’t keep them off of you, looking marveled at the fact that you had even considered doing this. 

What he hadn’t bet on next was you wrapping your mouth around his cock, barely capturing him all as he let out a whimper. 

“Oh my god—“ Steven choked. “I’m not gonna last—“ 

You moan into him, sinking your mouth deeper, giving a steady motion of strokes and movement around his skin. 

He shifts as you take him deeper during each go around, seeing how much he can take. He rewards you with soft whimpers and his hand caressing the side of your face.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” He whispers. “Divine. Ma chérie.” 

You could feel the effect of his words, how soaked you were for him. You couldn’t wait to feel everything in your mouth. 

You quickened the pace, diving deeper towards the bottom of his shaft and including your tongue to lick him. Steven made involuntary groans, slightly jerking at your movements. 

“Oh fuck—oh fuck—I’m gonna—“ 

You groan into him response, the noise of your mouth rapidly sucking on him almost drowning it out. He thrust into your mouth as a response and God you couldn’t wait to feel this man inside you. He whimpered as his jerks went at an irregular pace. 

You gripped onto him hard, sucking onto his tip as Steven released into your mouth. Steven groaned expletives at every squirt, pushing his cock into your mouth deep until he had released all he could give. You swallowed his salty taste, already fantasizing about when you’ll have it again. 

Steven, however, is completely blissed out, limbs sprawled across your couch looking like a marionette. His chest is still heaving so you could tell he was still alive and breathing. He opens his eyes and looks at you as you swallow him, groaning as a bewildered, disoriented grin stretches across his face. 

You move up to the couch to sit next to him, Steven now engulfing himself into your arms. Kissing your shoulders, still having trouble making steady breaths. 

“You’re incredible, you.” He kisses you deep and long, giving his familiar gaze of making you feel like the most important person on the planet and not a soul or a speck matters. 

“You are,” You made your way up his shoulders, chest and face with kisses. “You’re thoughtful, you’re brilliant, you’re stunning. You’re Steven. My Steven.” 

You felt your face go hot, feeling so bold to call him “yours” when there has been little of a definition of your relationship besides your language education. 

He grins, silent and strong, repositions you on the couch to lay back, planting a soft kiss onto your lips before he moves below your stomach. 

He slipped his shaking fingers in the waistband of your underwear, tugging them down as you spread slightly open for him, glistening wet. 

“May I?” Steven whispered. You nodded, and before you could even stop, you felt his thick finger circling your clit. His finger had stopped shaking, but he was breathing heavily again, looking up at you with slight worry in his eyes that he was doing this correctly. He pressed onto you harder as you whimpered in response. 

“I’m not gonna lie, I don't know what I'm doing.” He says and you both laugh. “But I’ve done a bit of research and I guess this is my way of showing you I’m yours.” 

“So far, so good.” You grin. He continues to massage your clit, slowly teasing towards your entrance with each stroke until his two thick fingers finally enter you. It’s better, more satisfying than anything you could do on your own. 

He works in and out of you, focusing on your reactions as you whisper encouragement towards him. You were soaking for him and you felt yourself build up. 

He started with a steady pace, speeding up based on how you would clench around him and he’d feel your body react towards you. If this was his first time, you couldn’t tell at all. 

As your breaths quickened, he added another finger, causing you to cry out and for Steven to abruptly stop. 

“Oh God, oh no, did I hurt you? I’m sorry if I went too far I—“ 

“Fuck, don’t stop. Just keep going, you feel incredible.” You moaned, he groaned in response as he pumped into you at a faster pace, the noises from your wetness echoing in the room. You felt yourself getting closer and closer, your bundle of nerves tightening. Steven could feel you and he kept going faster, with more shallow thrusts into you. 

You released onto his fingers, crying out Steven’s name as he pressed into you deep, feeling your pulsations. Your heart was racing, you had dreamt of this moment for weeks but it was better than you had ever expected. 

Steven released his fingers from inside of you and you could see them glistening with your wetness. He insert his fingers into his mouth, sucking onto them and groaning at how you tasted. 

“I’m sorry, you just taste amazing.” He panted, it rendered you speechless and couldn’t utter out anything if you had tried. 

Amid that silence, Steven looked to you and to your entrance where his fingers just were, looking as if he was contemplating a thought, and then he buried his head between your legs and all of your thoughts were lost. You loudly moaned, involuntarily; hoping your neighbors couldn’t hear a thing. He slipped another finger into your entrance while his tongue massaged your puffy clit. 

With Steven pumping you and tasting you, your thoughts became static. All you could hear was your wetness and Steven’s moans into your crotch. 

“You taste so sweet.” He muffled in between your thighs, building you up to a steady rhythm again. His mouth is so warm onto you and Steven is really building up a confidence with it, hooking his arms onto your legs and burying himself as deep as he can into you. 

Less than a month ago Steven Grant could barely kiss you and now he's learned to fuck you with his tongue. You grab onto his curls, grinding into him and he growls in response. You're so entranced you don't realize you’ve been biting your lip hard while you whimper over and over. 

You already feel yourself close to coming again, rolling your hips into him as he's entered another finger into you, thrusting fast, the vibrations of his groaning on your clit. 

Your back arches as you come for him a second time, releasing your body to him as you feel his tongue enter where his fingers were, desperate to take every drop. 

Everything is blank, and you’re overwhelmed with a feeling of unadulterated bliss. You both lay there for a moment, Steven kissing the inside of your thighs and rubbing small circles onto you. 

“I hope that was alright, yeah?” He said into your thigh. “I’m sure you’ve had this done a million times—not to say you’d let a million guys do this—just I know I’m not the most experienced person and I—shit—just, thank you.” 

You muster up some sort of strength to stand up, feeling a bit disoriented, and you hold out your hand for Steven. He gingerly takes it and you lead him back to your bedroom. You kiss him, standing near the edge of your bed and Steven responds with such hunger that you think he might go. 

When he attempts to grab you by the waist, he accidentally sends the both of you flying onto the bed. As you laughed together, looking into his eyes, you were making note of this intimate moment with the man you adored. The way his deep brown eyes observed you, his sweet smile, the way his hand felt on yours. How could this not be bliss? You had missed this so much. 

Steven had taken a moment to get up and clean himself off, grabbing a washcloth from your bathroom and wiping you up as well. 

“You've really been doing your research, haven't you?” You grinned. 

“Well, just in case I could see you like this again I just wanted to be prepared. I wanted you to feel as extraordinary as you make me.” 

“You make me feel that way and then some.” He threw your washcloth into your hamper with accurate precision and then curled into bed with you, your head laying on his chest. His tan arms around you, his lips on your cheek and your ear. This is how it was meant to be. 

He whispered your name, and you turned your head towards him. God, he was so gorgeous. How does he not know how amazing he is? 

“I think I want to sleep here tonight, if you’ll have me.” 

Your response was a deep kiss that lasted until the two of you were drifting off to sleep. 

Would Steven be himself tomorrow morning? Would Steven even be there when you woke up? It all didn’t seem as important as shutting your eyes in that moment and falling asleep in his arms.

-----------------

The next morning you woke up to the sunlight streaming on your face. You slowly opened your eyes and did your familiar routine of stretching every limb onto your body as you sprawled across your bed. 

Why were you able to sprawl across your bed? 

Steven left. That had to have been what happened. Your heart sank, thinking of what may have happened or what mindset he might’ve been in when you left. 

Then suddenly, you hear the lull of Paul Simon coming from your kitchen. You follow the sound, getting louder and accompanying it were sounds of pots and pans. 

You turn your corner, and Steven is up, making eggs, toast and tea. Your Paul Simon record he had bought for you played on the record player in the corner of your living room. 

“Morning, darling.” He came to you and held you for a moment, giving you a deep, long kiss that reminded you of how things started last night. “I’m sorry if this is too much, I probably should’ve asked for your permission before I started mucking up your kitchen—“ 

“Are you kidding me? This is amazing and so sweet, Steven, thank you.” You planted a lighter kiss on his lips as he looked at you dazed and elated. 

“I just wanted to do what I was planning on doing our first night together. Now that I’m actually here, I can give that to you. I can give you anything you want, if you’ll let me.” 

“So far you’ve given me breakfast, Paul Simon and a full view of you in your knickers so I am beyond content right now.” You giggle. 

He stares at you for a moment, looking as if he’s trying to muster up the courage to say something. 

“I do…have one favor to ask of you.” Steven began. You nodded, trying to figure out what else he could have up his sleeve. 

“Let me take you out on a date, a proper date. One that isn’t just French lessons and the lentil soup at the bistro. I keep thinking about how you said I was yours, and I am. I just want to make you mine in the proper way.”

Your answer is yes. How could you ever say no? Just like meeting a stranger at a museum, just like seeing him for the first time for who he really is. Just like falling in love. Your answer with Steven is always yes. 

#moon knight #moon knight smut #moon knight fanfiction #moon knight fanfic #steven grant #steven grant smut #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant x you #steven grant x reader #steven grant fluff #steven grant x y/n #marc spector #mcu #mcu smut #mcu fanfic #moonknight #mr knight #oscar isaac #oscar isaac smut #oscar isaac x you #oscar isaac x reader #oscar isaac x y/n

[butterflydm]

wot rewatch: 1x1 - leavetaking

Rewatching as prep for season two! These are going to be pretty spoiler-heavy for the books (will note how far) and kinda live-bloggy - I'm briefly pausing to note down thoughts but won't be writing out entire paragraphs. Just little notes as I go on.

Spoilers for the entire first season and some s2 spoilers plus through maybe The Dragon Reborn in the books. Maybe only The Great Hunt.

1. Fascinating how Liandrin's perspective on men and the One Power is the reverse of the truth. It's not men who make the Power filthy but the Power that makes men go wrong (because of the taint). I do think she genuinely believes what she's saying here though.

2. We get a lot of info from Moiraine and Lan here: we know there's an active prophecy, we know that the Dragon can channel, we know they should be 20 years old. We also see Moiraine's doubts and her wishful thinking both at play: she doubts/tests various parts of the prophecy but does not let herself believe he was gentled before he could ever be found.

3. The rumors in/out of the Two Rivers are interesting to think about - it sounds like the idea of ta'veren must be fairly widely known -- given that we know in TGH that at least one of Moiraine's eyes-and-ears is Tuatha'an, I wonder if the group of Tuatha'an near the Two Rivers that Egwene & Perrin run into (with Ila & Aram) is also the group that has Moiraine's spy, in the show canon. EDIT: we know from TDR about her spy, not TGH, lol

4. I am So Interested in whether or not s2 will get into the emotional details of Egwene not braiding her hair anymore.

5. It kinda feels like the show went more hardcore egalitarian for the Two Rivers than the books did -- we never hear anything about the mayor or village council and the women's circle is a rite of passage for womanhood as opposed to being a governing body.

6. Wolves! ❤

7. Some people apparently took Rand calling past-him a sap as him being... a Chad now? Very strange. He's obviously not being serious (and he brings Egwene a berry in this very episode).

8. The scene with the three boys is so good for establishing them as friends but also showing Mat is not supernaturally lucky here, and we see Rand and Perrin's concern and affection.

9. Enter our Mysterious Wanderers. It's a great dramatic entrance for our very Dramatic pair. Moiraine taking a good look around trying to clock all the twenty year olds.

10. So we get introduced to all the celebration and joy first... and then after Moiraine's intro, we get into the various emotional turmoils each of our younger cast are facing:

a. Perrin's marriage is somewhat troubled.

b. Mat's parents have created a troubled family life for him and his two sisters and he is basically the one raising his sisters even while having to deal with his drunk mom telling him he's a terrible person.

c. Rand and Egwene's relationship breaks up as they realize for the first time that they have grown into having incompatible life goals (a problem that will not go away even after their individual situations completely change).

Despite the idyllic scenery, the emotional undercurrents in the village are complex.

11. First we have Moiraine specifying that they need two beds and then we get the lovely non-sexual bath scene with Lan and Moiraine. I love how much we get to see Moiraine & Lan being platonic companions.

12. I like that Egwene and Rand truly care deeply about each other but that doesn't make their lives compatible.

13. Love how we go from the whistling background sound over the Fade to Fain actually whistling.

14. The next morning, we get Mat pawning the stolen bracelet -- this helps sets up why he steals the dagger later; Mat has an incentive to need money that isn't about being greedy. But then we also see in the later scene that his friends very much want to help him. And Mat shows deep emotional intelligence and concern with Rand as well.

15. Nynaeve gets knocked out as a Dragon candidate right away, due to being too old to be the prophecy baby. Sadly, in the process of figuring that out, Moiraine burns a bridge with Nynaeve (who already wasn't inclined to trust her).

16. The Wisdom cleaning the sacred pool fits very well with Nynaeve becoming a "servant of all" aka Aes Sedai (just like Egwene surrendering to the river is a mirror of surrendering to saidar). But also the Wisdom is really the only 'leader' that we get introduced to in the Two Rivers in the show.

17. I am very curious about if the issue of the Old Wisdom comes up again when Nynaeve is in the White Tower. Nynaeve does seem aware here that Listening To The Wind is connected to the One Power.

18. Again, I love how the Rand, Mat, Perrin friendship feels substantial here and not just because they're all the same age so they hang around together.

19. Love getting the themes here of rebirth and how the reincarnation aspect of the lore feels present in people's everyday lives.

20. Nynaeve being separate from all the other villagers so they can't see her pain. My heart!

21. Now that we've set up Life As It Is, it's time to break it so that the main story can start. Lan brings the news about the Fade & Trollocs and Moiraine confirms that she doesn't know which of the four kiddos is The One (a good thing, as it turns out).

22. Some good character work during the fight:

a. Nynaeve trying to protect and heal her people.

b. Fain just sauntering off without a care.

c. Mat going back into danger to save his sisters.

d. Perrin doing something to make him terrified of the violence inside hinsrlf.

e. We see that there's more to Rand's dad than meets the eye.

f. Rand defeats the Trolloc but at a cost (his dad getting horribly injured).

g. Egwene & Nynaeve both willing to fight back, even when they just have belt knives.

h. Once Moiraine and Lan are able to turn the fight (and we get some lovely choreography of then working as a team and seeing how Warders aid their Aes Sedai), the villagers take heart and really together against the Shadowspawn.

23. Overall just a good job showing how traumatic an attack like this would be.

24. Anyway, it felt clear to me that part of the reason our kiddos don't argue much with Moiraine after the battle is because they're all pretty shocked and traumatized. None of them have ever experienced anything like this!

25. I hope the implied flashback for Moiraine & Siuan in s2 has us getting the prophecy onscreen but it was still cool to hear Moiraine telling them about it here.

26. There's a great shot here of Moiraine facing Egwene and Rand and we see all three of them in shades of blue. Meanwhile, when we swap to Perrin and Mat, Mat has a tiny stripe of blue but the two of them are more earth-tones. Channelers vs non-channelers? Rand puts on an earth-tone coat as they leave - because he's going to be in denial?

27. Right now, Moiraine is saying they need to get to the protection of the White Tower (meaning Siuan and her attempts to ready the Tower). And that's a wrap on episode one!

#wot #wheel of time #wot on prime #wot rewatch #wot book spoilers #wot s2 spoilers mentioned briefly #the great hunt #maybe the dragon reborn