You’d always been a little insecure about your thighs. They had always been larger than Rachel and Dawn’s, and because of the lack of body positivity in your dysfunctional family, you’d developed a love hate relationship ship with your thighs. Sure they helped steady you and the large muscles give you strength Rachel wouldn’t have, but they always stretched out skinny jeans, stockings, high rise shorts, and pretty much everything that’s tight sitting.

None of the Titans had ever paid a bad mind to your thighs, or the rest of your body for that matter. Despite that, you still wore large and baggy clothes everywhere.

Gar loved your thighs. He found the thickness appealing and never understood why you covered them during training.

Dick, Dawn, and Gar had tried to convince you that you had nothing to be insecure about, but it never seemed to make much difference.

You’d gone in first with Gar for recon while the others waited outside for Gar’s signal. Then a small loose screw on the floor alerts the goon of his presence. Before Gar could even react, cold thin metal is pressed against his throat and a rough hand is pulling his green locks painfully.

A second later the goon’s grip on Gar’s hair loosens, the knife dropping from his throat as the goon lets out a strangled sound and his hands move to his head. Whipping around, Gar sees you with your legs wrapped around his attacker’s neck, strangling the colour from his face.