#*sighs* let me add this to the list 🤣

[callsigndragon]

Everyone's favorite Fanboy | M.F.G

Pairing: Mickey "Fanboy" Garcia x fem!reader

word count: 1.3k

Request: “My teammates gets annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”. Tell me this doesn't scream Fanboy...cause that's his literally his callsign 🤣

A/N: It took me FOREVER to write this, I'm still working on the requests and I'll post them aLL I SWEAR

Warnings: all the fluuuuuuuuuuuffs

If you want to be added to my forever TGM tag list, let me know.

Mickey is a fan of many things. Hence, his call sign. He's a fan of Star Trek, Marvel, video games, and more. He's proud of being a Fanboy. But the thing he's more fan of? His girlfriend. 

He talks about her all the time. How many books she can read. The little things she writes. How she tries to cook his favorite dishes, and even though they don't end up exactly like the original, he's content with the fact that you took time to learn the recipe and tried to cook it yourself. Just because you wanted to give him a surprise. 

Mickey says he's a fan.

The squad calls him a simp. 

At this point, Mickey’s fellow aviators know you better than yourself. The thing is that they haven't seen you yet. 

Mickey just doesn't shut up about you. 

Today, Mickey and the rest of the Daggers are coming back from a mission, and he has invited you to the Hard Deck to finally meet his friends. He's excited about it, almost bouncing up and down in the chair while waiting for you to walk through the door. 

"Mickey, you look like a puppy waiting for his owner," Payback jokes, patting Mickey’s back. 

"I'm not a puppy?"

"You're a golden retriever, Mickey." Bob adds while getting more peanuts. 

"Does your girl know that you behave like that?" Hangman asks, sitting down with a new round of beers. 

"Oh yeah, she knows. That's why she loves me. Because, dude, she could be dating whoever she wants. Have I ever told you that this rich guy was–"

"Yeah, you told us." The rest of the Dagger respond in unison, remembering the story they have been told, at least three times. 

"Did I? I don't remember, though." Mickey frowns, taking a sip from his drink, and almost chokes when he sees your figure walking through the door. "There she is!" 

You smile when you see him, waving cutely in his direction. Hangman’s head moves from you to Mickey, and he is starting to understand why he is always talking about you. 

Mickey gets up, offers you his seat, and places his hands on your shoulders when you sit down. “Guys, this is y/n. Y/n, these are Jake, Nat, Bob, Reuben, Bradley, and Javy.”

You greet everyone, excited to finally meet all of them. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet Mickey’s second family.” 

“I’d say it’s a pleasure to finally meet you too, but we know everything about you already.” Nat jokes, offering you the beer that Hangman had brought for her a minute ago.  

You frown, looking at their faces. You lean in Mickey’s direction, whispering in his ear. “Why is everyone looking at me like that?” 

Mickey sighs, kissing your shoulder while whispering back. “My teammates get annoyed because I talk about you 24/7”

You laugh out loud, looking at them. “You don’t know he talks about you all the time?” 

Jake places his arms on the table, pointing at you. “Speak, child.”

“Okay so, Mickey loves you all so much… He won’t shut up about Phoenix and Bob being the best team out there? He keeps talking about Phoenix being a badass and Bob probably being the best WSO.” You tell them, making Bob look at Mickey while rolling his eyes. 

“You’re better than me, Garcia. Shut up.” 

“Javy,” you continue, wanting to let the rest of the team know how important they are to Mickey. “You are literally his role model? He says that you are such a good friend, and it doesn’t matter how many times you have to try something, you keep going until you get it done.” 

Javy musses Mickey’s hair, which is a few inches longer than he normally wears it. “I learned from the best, Mickey.” 

“Jake, Bradley… I can’t even put into words how proud he is of working with people like you. He knows that you, Jake, are probably the best pilot of this generation, and he’s honored to work with you. And Bradley, you have been through so much and still have energy to put on a smile and face the world. You’re incredible.” 

Jake and Bradley, men of few words, just raise their beers in Mickey’s direction and nod. There’s no need for them to say anything. 

You finally turn to Reuben, sitting next to you, and place a hand on his arm. “You’re his big brother; I don’t have to tell you that. He is so proud of everything you have achieved, and how I wish you could have heard him talk when you guys were chosen to fly the uranium mission.”

Reuben smirks, shaking his head, and lets out a loud laugh. “So you’re just everyone’s Fanboy, huh?” 

Mickey, whose ears are more red than Rooster’s helmet, hides his face behind your back, making you giggle. 

“It’s the first time I have seen this man getting all shy.” Jake comments, unlocking his phone to take a picture. 

“Now I want to know what things he told you about me.” You request, and everyone bombards you with information the next second. 

He tells them everything. About your new hobbies, your past ones, how good you’re at your job even if sometimes you hate it, how much he loves you, how much he wants to move in with you, but it’s difficult with your jobs being so incompatible… 

“Oh, and we know about the rich guy.” Rooster says, snapping his fingers as if he just remembered that tiny detail. 

“You told them that too?” You say, honestly surprised that he keeps talking about that. 

“Of course? You literally picked me over a guy that has millions of dollars?” He says, moving his hand up and down to signal his whole body, signaling how all that isn’t worth millions of  dollars and, nonetheless, you picked him. 

You place your hands on his face, peck his lips, and lock eyes with him. “Mickey, I don’t want a million dollars. I want the guy who can make me laugh a million times, the guy who’s always ready to compliment me and make me feel better about my insecurities. I don’t want money; I want love. And I won the lottery with you, love.”

Mickey kisses you softly, holding himself back from all the things that he wants to say. Some of them aren’t appropriate to say in public. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, my fanboy.” You mumble, kissing his nose, and turn your body toward the table again, watching the aviators with dreamy expressions and soft smiles. 

“Okay, you are allowed to fanboy about her as much as you want,” Jake says, raising his beer. “Cheers for the cute couple!”

“And cheers for the best fanboy!” You add, making all of them chuckle while toasting. Mickey couldn’t be more proud of his family, even if he tried. 

@shrimping-for-all

@purplevortexx

@jynxmirage

@pono-pura-vida

@xoxabs88xox

#top gun maverick fanfic #top gun fanfiction #top gun x reader #top gun #top gun maverick #mickey fanboy garcia x reader #fanboy x you #top gun fanboy #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia x reader #mickey garcia #fanboy fluff #top gun fluff #mickey garcia fluff

[yanderelovlies]

How would jack or Bo react to finding out MC is a mermaid? Kind of like the mermaids from H2O just add water, aquamarine, or splash the movie.

I just think it's kind of funny to think about them accidentally walking into the bathroom and there's MC taking a bath and they see a big fat mermaid tail 🤣

Here, have something silly and lighthearted for the holiday season

There were many things he didn't expect to wake-up to. His beloved in the tub with a giant fish tail for legs was high on that list. As the two of you looked at each other in shock you slowly began to panic causing your tail to switch and splash water everywhere.

“I’m sorry I didn't tell you! I-I just didn't know how or what you would think!......I really am sorry…”

Sunny Day Jack

It took Jack a minute to process what he was seeing, He blinked once….twice….yep still there, so it was real. He tried to make his way to you for closer inspection but slipped on the water around the tub and landed on the floor with a loud thud.

“Oh my god! Are you okay Jack?!” You leaned over the tub to look at the dazed clown.

He looks back up at you, his face completely blank till he smiles at you. “You look amazing sunshine.” He then sits, and begins examining your tail.

You watched him shocked as he petted your tail and coos over its colors “a-are you okay??”

He looked up at you still smiling “Hm? Yeah! Sorry sunshine it was just a shock.” He looks back at your tail with a childlike wonderment. “I never thought you guys actually existed.”

You couldn't help but smile “Tell you what big guy…give me a couple more minutes and ill answer any of your questions.”

Jack agreed and got up, kissed your forehead, and left. You sighed, and leaned back into the tub. That went better than you could ever have thought.

Bo

Bo stared for a second before he let out a loud whine “You took a bath without me??” He walked closer to the tub giving you the biggest puppy dog eyes possible.

The look of shock never left your face even when you want to crumble under his puppy dog eyes “Aren't you more worried by the giant fish tail that replaced my legs?!”

Bo looked down at your tail giving it a poke before looking back at you “I already knew..”

You swore at this point your eyes were bugging out of your head “What do you mean you knew?”

Bo shrugged, giving you a smile “Your scent. Not everyone smells like the ocean puppy!”

All you could was stare as Bo stood up and began stripping “Now scoot over puppy i want in!”

#sunny day jack #swwsdj #something's wrong with sunny day jack #x reader #sunny day jack x reader #something's wrong with sunny day jack x reader #swwsdj x reader #yandere x reader #dachabo x reader #dachabo bo x reader #dachabo #dachabo bo #bo x reader

[cevans-is-classic]

Fourth installment of an accidentally series 🤣

Warnings: 18+ only, please. Unprotected sex, oral and adult language

My Masterlist and My Chris List

Autumn Flowers - Winter Flowers - Spring Flowers - Autumn Vows

Chris grabs at his phone peeking at the time and groaning when he sees a seven. Who the hell knocks on a person’s door this fucking early? He’d collapsed on the bed at half-past two am and planned to stay wrapped in a cocoon of fluffy hotel blankets well until noon. 

The knocking started up again, and he groaned louder, “Yeah. Okay, give me a minute.” 

He swung his legs over the side of the bed, dropping his head to huff out a slew of curse words at the ache in his lower back. Traveling wasn’t getting any easier — add the factor of having to leave you and it made him want to stay home. 

Two solid knocks jerked his head back up and brought him off the bed. 

“Alright.” Chris took a deep breath, looked up at the ceiling, back down to make sure he at least had shorts on, then opened the door — to have flowers shove in his face. 

He gagged, stumbled back, and shook his head to get the petal he’d inhaled out of his mouth. 

What the hell? He’d grabbed the yellow vase with one hand and swung it out of reach in time to be wrapped in a hug and have a head pressed into his chest. 

The annoyance dissipated in an instant. 

“Sweetheart.” He hugged you back, buried his face in your hair. You were here. You’d brought him flowers — which were hindering him from collecting you in his arms."Hey, yes, this is amazing. Let me put these down." 

“Oh, right?” You stepped back, letting Chris place the flowers on a nightstand. When he’d turned back to you, you’d already thrown yourself down on the bed with a laughing smile. 

“Ah, exquisite.” Chris felt the tightness he hadn’t known he had melted away. 

Crawling onto the bed to hover over you and rest his body along yours, he dipped his head into the crook of your neck, “Hello?” 

You giggled, wrapping your arms and legs around him to trap him in your embrace. Trap? Ha. If this was a trap, he hoped he never escaped. 

“Hiya, good lookin’” you wiggled until Chris was more on your chest and you could get a better hold around his shoulders. 

He rested his chin on your sternum, looking up at you, letting his right-hand trail down to your thighs and follow the line of your leg. “What are you doing here?”

You wiggled again. “Hot date.” 

“Nice. Do I know them?” He waggled his brows, adding a shimmy to his movements to shake the two of you side to side. 

You flashed a grin at him. “Maybe. Nice woman, very intelligent, has a camera glued to her face.” 

“Oh, testing out the ladies.” Moving back up, he kissed you. Chris wanted to dive right in, lick the taste of you up, burrowing himself in you until they dragged him away. 

When you shoved at his chest, he slid his hand down your thigh to hold your hip. Chris pouted when you pulled your leg under him and knocked him back. “Why?” He slumped over your legs. 

You pointed at him, “One: your breath is horrible. Two: this was my first stop. I do have a date, of sorts, with Christine. She wants to do a shoot for the hot new author's section of People’s.” 

He licked his cheek, tasting his own gross mouth conceding to the point you made. 

“Fine, but when you’re done posing for your lady, you’re mine.” 

You snapped at his mouth when he dragged you down from the bed and caught you in another kiss. Your laughter made him feel like he was flying. The shove against his chest followed by you scraping your teeth along his jawline had him feeling feral. 

Until he yawned. 

“Yup. That’s my cue.” You hopped off the bed kicking at the bag Chris hadn’t seen you carry in. 

The pillows flopped around him when he flips onto his back and settled back down into the bed, watching you dig through the bag and set a pair of shoes and your toiletries bag on a chair. 

“I have to be at the studio at noon.” He stretches his arms over his head, sighing when his back pops and crossed his arms behind his head. 

You waved a hand. “That's okay. I’ll be with Christine for a few hours, then I promised I’d visit Sierra.” You pulled out a shirt, holding it to examine before shrugging and pulling the tank top you wore off in one move. 

He was looking. You had hand prints on your waist, faded more since the last time he saw them and the reminder of his ‘goodbye’ night had heat spreading through his body. You hadn’t bothered with anything under the shirt you pulled over your head, your chest disappearing beneath the forest green fabric, making him whine.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Get some sleep, Baby. I’ll call you when I’m on my way back.” You jumped towards him for one last kiss, making a face when he tried to part your lips with his tongue and shoved his face into the pillow, smothering his laughter. 

“I love you!” He shouted, hearing your muffled response through the door that closed behind you. 

-

When he woke up again, it was ten after eleven and his alarm was going off this time. Feeling more well rested than he had been when you’d surprised him this morning. He liked your wake-up call better. He didn’t have to get out of bed if it was you — he didn’t have to put on real pants with you either. 

Rolling onto his back, he stretched, feeling the burn in his arms and thighs, shaking his arms out to loosen up the tension in his neck letting his gaze fall on the bouquet you’d shoved in his face earlier. It was a bright combination. The yellow vase had slivers of green swirled through the base. It was vibrant, and alive with yellow, orange, and neon pink roses tucked in with purple anemones with green fillers to complete the piece. It was beautiful. He’d never seen an arrangement this magical — for a lack of a better word.

He moved towards it, sitting up on the side of the bed to pick it up and get a better look. A few of the roses got squashed earlier, the reminder of petals in his mouth making him scrunch his nose in disgust. “Oh.” 

A card holder was tilting sideways into a mushed flower. Chris pulled it off, scratching the back of his head as he read it. 

Remember asking me when I was going to put a ring on your fingers? Feeling lucky, Baby Boy? 

It was your handwriting, the messy scrawl of it right there in smudged blue ink with a little heart at the bottom that looked more like a sloppy M. 

Chris read it over and over, backward and forwards, making sure the words weren’t saying something different and he’d never woke up. It had been four years since that day in his dining room. He’d joked since then, calling himself your trophy boyfriend or a boy toy that was tied down. You always joked it off, kissed him to shut him up, or rolled your eyes at him with a smile. He knew it was a joke. You two had talked in broke conversations about the future; the one thing you agreed on was that you wanted to be together. How you did that didn’t matter. 

Was this an actual proposal?

He flipped the card in his fingers — it would be like you to do it this way. You turned things that are nerve-wracking into something down to earth. Chris brought the card to his lips, kissing the inked words before setting it back in the flowers. 

He had work to get to, and he had some thinking to do. 

-

It was well past midnight by the time both of you met in the lobby. You’d changed clothes through the day, a blue shirt with a beach doodled over your chest and a pair of white shorts he’d never seen before. It made you look — real. Comfortable. Sometimes Chris looked at you and swore you were a mirage in the never-ending desert of his life; saying things like that earned him an eye roll and sarcastic response, but it was true. 

Taking your hand felt like coming home and with the drag of his feet, the weight on his shoulders drifted away. You brought his hand up to kiss his knuckles one by one until you turned his hand around and kissed the inside of his palm. There was a flower tucked behind your ear. He’d never seen this type of flower before — it matched the shirt you now wore. 

“What kind is that?” He nodded towards your ear. 

You reached up to touch it, “Love is in the Air.” You moved your head back and forth. “Sierra planted some this year and wanted me to have one.” 

He looked at it again, at the soft petals that kissed your cheek. “You’re beautiful.” 

That got him a cheeky grin and a sharp tug into the elevator and into a heated kiss. He’d backed you against the wall, holding you with one arm and bracing the both of you with the other. Your fingers carded through his hair, tugged at the strands, smoothed them down then repeated, making him groan into your mouth.

When the doors opened, you pushed him out of the car, stumbling after him towards the room all hands and teeth tripping over each other when the room door opened. The bed wasn’t far, but the loveseat was closer. You had Chris shoved down onto it with your legs on either side of his thighs in a blink of an eye. When did your shorts come off? Your tongue liked into his mouth, teeth grazing his bottom lip, his jaw, down his neck, and, “Ah!” You bit his nipple through his shirt, climbing off his lap to kneel in front of him. 

“Shirt off.” 

“Of course.” Between groping hands, biting teeth and Chris tugging you into kisses with each article of clothing that hit the ground he didn’t have time to take breathe when you dropped back down and took his cock into your mouth.

“Do you know how good this feels? How bad I miss your mouth when it’s not around me?” He thrust forward, and back, snapping his hips with shallow movements to keep his cock deep in your throat feeling you convulse around the intrusion. When he pulled back, you would groan, tears leaking down your cheeks, and he saw your hand dip into your underwear. 

“God, Sweetheart, Baby, letting me use you gets you fucking wet. Every. Single. Time.” He was close, teetering on the edge. Your teeth skimmed his length, and he almost shot off, “No-” He pulled back, shoving his fingers into your mouth when you whined at the loss of him. You were rubbing your fingers over your clit, fast, your hips thrusting against your hand and Chris wanted to be buried deep inside you. 

“Come ‘ere.” His words slurred, you pulled off his fingers, helped him pull your underwear down then climbed onto his lap reaching down to guide him into you. Both of you groaned when he pushed in, bodies coming together in a wet, slick heat that had him burning from the inside out. 

“I missed you.” You bounced yourself up and down, moved your hips over his cock, and held on tight to the back of the couch for balance. Chris pulled you into a kiss, planting his feet to fuck up into you, his arm helping guide your movements. He loved you. Loved you more than anything, more than he thought possible. 

Chris saw beauty in all things. He looked at the sky, saw the stars, and dreamed of galaxies he wanted to reach. He’d hear a song and hold the lyrics in his heart or watch a movie and cry at the moving art. When one of his nieces or nephews hugged him tightly, he felt all the bad in the world disappear and he saw the love of his family every day. There were few things in this world that Chris couldn’t see the good in. 

You — you were more and beyond. 

You were at his home. The calm after the storm. He fell in love with grace, with compassion, when a crooked smile and a barking laugh carried him through this life with a real purpose. Chris could see his whole life in your eyes and feel it wrapped in your arms. This was the thing of love songs. He knew what lies inside the words of poetry when you moaned his name or laughed into his chest.

Remember asking me when I was going to put a ring on your fingers?

He wanted to spend his life, every life, with you and only you. 

“Sweetheart.” He touched his forehead to yours, let you breathe out as he breathed in, gasping as both of you rose to your peak. 

“Baby boy.”  

You shuddered around him, squeezing tight, slick coating him, smearing his groin and thighs as you shivered. He fucked you through the tremors and when you nodded, when your body went loose, he cried out with his release. Both of you panted, his cock still spurting inside you when you captured him in another salty kiss. Your hands cupped his face, legs shaking on either side of his thighs, and he had to hold you close.

He never wanted to let go. 

He knew what to do. 

-

The meeting had him leaving early the next day, promising you he’d bring lunch back with him and kissed your forehead goodbye. You’d fallen back asleep as soon as he pulled away and for a beat Chris watched you. You were a mess, hair flattened on one side, shirt riding up on your stomach and there was a dried trail of drool on your cheek; Chris was painfully in love with you. 

His phone buzzed when he got into the SUV. 

Sierra: Six, right?

He sent back an affirmative, your best friend sent a thumb up emoji and his heart played the beat of Jumanji in his chest. Today was going to be the longest day of his life and not a drop of coffee was going to keep him focused. 

His assistant noticed how jittery he was the moment he stepped out of the SUV. When he explained what had him hyped, she choked off a gasp, hugging him tightly. Her enthusiasm helped him get through two of his interviews. When the morning felt as if it would never end she would wiggle her fingers at him and Chris straightened back up and pushed through it. 

One o’clock hit in time for his last meeting to end everyone dispersing with promises of emails and phone calls to further the process.

His assistant waved his phone at him. “Sierra messaged.” 

He grabbed it from her hands, pulling her in for a thankful hug then opened the message and cheered. “Hell yes!” 

Sierra: Its ready. 

-

“Mom thinks my older brother got another person pregnant.” You’d rolled the window down the moment you climbed into the Uber, your head almost poking out of it, hair windswept off your forehead. 

“Doesn’t he have enough — possible — illegitimate children running around out there?” 

He almost had whiplash with how fast you dropped back into the seat. “I fucking hope not. I don’t need any kids coming up to me asking if I know their father. The ones I have are enough.” 

The driver looked back from the mirror and nodded his head. Chris nodded back. 

“Hey do me a favor.” 

You eyed him, letting out a put-upon sigh. “Do I have to?” 

“Please?” 

Both your arms came up to flop back down onto the seat. “Alright, shoot.” 

The Uber turned into the park, coming to a stop at the trail of fairy lights. Chris motioned towards your window — your jaw dropped at the sight. The driver opened your door for you, smiling back when Chris thanked him, and drove away when he took your hand. 

“Chris-” He led you towards the lights, the strings decorated with different assortments of flowers, all of them the exact type that you got him through the years. Every other tree had a lantern hanging from it. Red roses scattered the bottom of their casings; casting a soft red glow. Your mouth stayed open with awe, the hand he didn’t have raised to cover it. The path was easy to walk, the lights guiding the two of you towards a wrought-iron bench (That had been a bitch to find, thank you very much.) 

“Oh my God-” It came in a whisper, head turning left and right, your hand dropping from his to follow the line of lights and flowers with a watery laugh. 

“What is this?”

The bench itself had lights along the arms and back of it, “Christopher — those — those are - they-” Your throat clicked. 

He tuned you around to face him, tilting his head to look down at you,his hands holding yours up to his chest. There was apprehension in your eyes. “I swear, if this is your way of breaking up with me.”

“Ah yes, what gave it away?” 

Your body jerked forward with your bark of laughter, tears reddening your eyes. You looked at the Calla Lilies that helped decorate the bench. Chris took that as his chance. 

“I read your note.” You snapped your head back towards him, “I read it over and over thinking of every time I joked with you about making an honest man out of me. I’d always known you were who I wanted to be with, that you were the one I wanted to stand by my side. Four years ago, if someone asked me what the meanings of flowers were; I would have told him to be beautiful, to smell good, and to decorate this world, but none of those would have been the right answer. I know Freesias mean trust, that Gladiolus bloom is for strength, and when you give someone red and white roses given together mean love and unity.” Chris dropped to his knee, your tears pooling to run down your cheeks as you tried to blink them away. “That Calla lilies mean marriage.” 

“You-” 

He reached towards the bench, move a bundle of Calla Lillies to grab the velvet box beneath. “You mind coming down here?” 

He caught you when you knelt. “Here.” Chris placed the box in your hand, curling your fingers over the top of it, and you let out a shuddering laugh. 

“Chris-” You said his name again, mouth opening and closing, he opened the box with you. 

Two rings were nestled inside, both simple, silver bands that reflected the surrounding lights. One was smaller than the other, and both of them were engraved with a flower design. “Want to go first?” 

He almost fell back by the force of the kiss the box being shoved into his stomach for you to crawl into his lap and cry into the kiss, “You goddamn fucking sap, yes, please marry me. Let me wife you.” 

“Obviously.” You moved back enough to pull the larger of the two rings, moving his hand from your waist to holding his finger up, and slipped the ring on. It belonged there. 

Chris pulled your ring out, holding it out to let you trace the design. “Will you marry me?” 

It slipped right on, resting above your knuckle, and Chris couldn’t help but think it always belonged there as well. 

“How did I fall in love with the world's most romantic person? This whole thing is a fever dream. I just know it.”

@xoxoloverb @bolontiku @stephv213

One more after this to finish the series!

#chris evans #chris evans x you #chris evans fluff #chris evans smut #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader

[fuyunoakegata]

Rules: List the first lines of your last 20 stories (if you have less than 20, just list them all!). See if there are any patterns. Choose your favorite opening line. Then tag 10 of your favorite authors! (I always change the rules of these games. And some of these have a very short first line or I just like the entire opening, so I'll add a little more on some. Also, not tagging 10 people; if you read this and haven't done it and it sounds like fun, consider yourself tagged 🤣)

Tagged by @hood-ex 🥰

Warning Sign: How Much to Give (Whumptober ficlets): “In your dreams, Bowhead.” Dick is laughing as he backflips off the building, freefalling until the last second, when he shoots off a line, and then he’s swinging, flying to the next building, and the next.

Warning Sign: Right in Front of Me (Whumptober ficlets): “B…”

“Help is on the way. You should rest.” Bruce absolutely doesn’t let the emotion he’s feeling bleed into his voice.

Bleed.

Poor choice of words.

Especially with the pool of blood beneath them, some of it already growing cool and tacky.

Collar Me (Don't Collar Me) : The vernal equinox, marked by a full moon and clear skies for once, allows Nightwing to take full advantage of a chance to burn off some excess energy as he runs the roofs of Gotham after a quiet week, full of stakeouts and computer research. Simple leaps have added flips and turns; swings from one building to another involve far more acrobatics than is strictly necessary. He’s in the air more than on the ground and there’s a grin on his face as he flies.

Flaws: God, Dick was tired.

He wasn’t at the stage of exhaustion that came from too many days pushing through on too little sleep, not yet, but he dearly wanted a nap. And some coffee. Maybe some of Alfred’s chicken soup.

Dead Leaves and the Dirty Ground: Dick took a sip from the mug beside him and wrinkled his nose. Cold again. It would do absolutely nothing for his scratchy throat. He sighed and downed it anyway, then set it among the other empty mugs scattered across the table. The kitchen was too far away. He shifted in his chair and then frowned when the thick, scratchy blanket fell away on one side. He tried to tug it back into place, but he had a stack of files in his lap and didn't want to have to bend over and retrieve them, to put them all back in order if he dropped them. It was too much effort. Had been too much for a day or two, at least. He'd just have to deal with being cold for a while longer. He needed to stay awake long enough to finish this case.

Turn, Turn, Turn: The rhythmic creaking of the gymnastic apparatus and the soft chittering of the bats were the only sounds in the cave. A wave of chaos marched across the mats towards the high bar, detailing a map across the cave floor, from one training area to another. A crumpled towel here, torn athletic tape there, too few water bottles dropped where they’d been drained.

Real Heroes: “No, absolutely not.”

“Aww, c'mon, Timmers.”

Precious Things: The night had begun as it always did. Dick had been joking, trying to lighten the tension as the final touches appeared on their uniforms. Equipment had been given final inspections. Masks and cowls had been donned. Gloves had been pulled on. Familiar. Ritual. And his banter had kept it from becoming too much, too serious.

It's Been Awhile: Dick stretched and winced, scowling and blinking at the sun angling its relentless way through the slats in the blinds of his livingroom window. He supposed it was his own fault he was awake, now. He should have moved from the couch and slept in his bed the night before, in his bedroom with the blackout curtains that let him sleep no matter how sunshiny and bright the day outside. He'd been sore the night before and hadn't wanted to move after dinner, though.

Looks like my only similarity in opening paragraphs is hurting Dick 🤣

#ask games #fic