#I did offer to trade costumes but she said no

[herbgerblin]

My youngest sister and I are going to a convention soon and we’re cosplaying as Sophie and Howl :3

That said, she is three inches taller than me so I’m going to be giving short king Howl Pendragon energy the whole time

[allieslittlewritings]

Spencer Reid x daughter!reader

Costume Shopping

Word Count: ~800

Summary: The Reids go costume shopping for Halloween

Warnings: None except for Halloween stuff, a fake bloody arm, and bad writing <3

It was Spencer's first day off since October started and there was one specific thing he had planned.

He knocked on your bedroom door, only opening it when you told him he could come in.

"Are you almost ready to go?" He asked, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You finished putting your second earring in your ear. "Yeah, I just have to grab my phone."

Spencer waited for you quietly, looking around your room a little bit. A few Halloween decorations could be seen.

Orange fairy lights instead of your normal warm white ones, the Halloween-themed bedsheets he got you when you were little.

He thought you would stop using them when you go older, but you could never bring yourself to break tradition.

Your usual pencil case had been traded for one with a pattern of ghosts and pumpkins. A candle, with the scent of pumpkin spice, stood on your desk. It hadn't been lit yet.

A warm smile rested on Spencer's face. You inherited multiple things from him, your love of Halloween was easily one of his favorites.

The clean smell of air-conditioning and a hint of plastic filled your nose when you entered the costume store.

You looked over at your dad, you could practically feel the excitement radiating off of him.

He grabbed a basket and you both started lookng through the vast array of costumes the store had to offer.

Despite being well into high school, It was your first year going to an actual high school Halloween party rather than a familial get-together. Spencer noticed your more picky way of looking at things.

"You know, you really shouldn't pick what you want to wear based on what the other kids will think," He reminded you.

Spencer reached for an over-sized pair of glasses and put them on. "Statistics actually show that younger people are starting to like silly costumes more every year."

You bit back a laugh at his glasses before frowning slightly. "Really?"

Spencer removed the glasses and pouted. "I don't know, maybe. There's no statistic for that."

You jokingly rolled your eyes and followed your dad as he continued walking at an almost obnoxiously fast pace. He only stopped when he saw a plastic bloody arm and curiously picked it up.

"I'm serious though, if you let your friends influence your choices in costume too much, it could subconsciously permeate to other decisions, too," he said, still holding the fake arm and gesturing with it.

"I know," You said dejectedly.

"So, any idea what you're gonna be?" He asked, trying to lighten the mood a little. He never liked seeing you be affected by peer pressure, even if it was only slightly.

You sighed and scanned the isles around you before grinning and briskly walking over to a shelf.

Spencer put the fake arm back and followed you with an ounce of confusion before stopping in front of you.

A look of confusion crossed his face. "Gru, from Despicable Me? Sweetheart-"

"What? The new movie just came out like two and a half months ago, it's relevant!" You argued, "And it's funny."

Spencer chuckled but nodded his head. "That's fair. Just not what I thought you'd pick."

You grabbed the costume and put in the basket Spencer was carrying.

"Okay, so you're Gru. And I'm..." He trailed off, looking around the store with pursed lips.

"Did Penelope give you any criteria?"

"Just that it had to be unique, but also not too unique. She said she'd stab me with a pencil if I showed up as a dracula or a character from old literature."

"Ghostface isn't exactly unique, is it?" You asked rhetorically, seeing a white Ghostface mask.

Spencer shook his head. "No."

"You'd be a cool Ghostface though, 'cause you're tall," you observed.

"I don't want to get stabbed with a pencil."

The two of you continued looking.

"Ooh, you know what? You would make a good Jack Skellington."

Spencer frowned slightly, "How so?"

You tilted your head and looked at him closely, "You look like him."

"What? No, I don't."

"Yes you do," you insisted, quickly walking further.

With an exaggerated gasp you stopped at a costume and looked at your dad.

"Snoopy is perfect for you."

"I'm not going to wear an inflatable costume." Spencer took the Snoopy costume from you and put it back.

"What? Why not?"

"How would I eat the Halloween snacks Garcia makes?" He asked.

You thought for a second. "Oh, yeah. Fair enough."

"Okay, final offer," you looked at him but continued walking backwards, "Beetlejuice."

Spencer nervously looked at you, worried you would bump into something. "Is that really unique, though?"

You shrugged. "It would fit well with you and I think it would appease aunt Penelope."

Your dad thought it over for a minute before agreeing.

He picked out a wig close enough to what he needed and a black and white striped suit. You reminded him to grab black and white face paint, too.

"The suit's too clean, you'll need to make it look more dirty and worn," you observed.

"Good point. I'm sure we can do that," Spencer said.

You made your way to the queue and waited for your turn to pay.

Spencer looked over at you, staring at the candy and smallar items in the queue with intrigue.

He knew you'd outgrow some of your family Halloween traditions eventually, but he hoped costume shopping would never be one of them.

[mahoushojoumonster]

The tape whirs as it plays, showing a girl in a brightly coloured costume on a couch answering questions.

“So why KaibaLand? Why DMG?”

The girl in the costume smiles, adjusts her wand in her hands, fiddling nervously.

“Oh, we don’t choose our characters, that ended up being a happy accident,” she says with a wink. “Most of the character actors are auditioned and placed where they’re the most suitable. There are very few people who get to pick. Before DMG, I was a Harpy Lady, and before that I was in one of the suits… I won’t say which one. I actually didn’t even mean to become a character, I originally was supposed to be stage stunting and a handler. It all kind of… happened and now I’m here. In glitter.” A laugh, and the camera zooms in. The girl pulls a face, like she’s trying incredibly hard not to hide away, scrunching up her nose.

The recording skips forward.

“I have training in contemporary dance, but I spent years training gymnastics. Floor, bar, beam… I was supposed to qualify for the Olympics, actually.”

“Supposed to?”

She grimaces, looking down. “I had a bad land, tore the wrong ligament. By the time I’d had the surgery and done the rehab, the window had closed. Very proud of our effort at that Games though, silver and two bronze in our category.” She perks up again with a smile. “I kept training, but… it wasn’t the same. Things weren’t sticking. I was too afraid to fly in case I fell again. But it doesn’t work like that. My career was done.”

“So how did that lead to KaibaLand?”

“Weird thing, guy in a suit comes in during training, he’s looking for the Olympian with a job offer. He ends up extending it to everyone there. There’s a theme park about Duel Monsters and they want to start running live shows. They need dancers, and people who can do all kinds of things. Like… strong looking characters should be able to actually lift, that kind of thing. Hyper-Realism. The way he described it, it sounded nuts… I mean, even [bleep]Land doesn’t do that. But it was a permanent… that was also crazy.”

She laughs. “No one said yes, and in response the suit just shrugs and gives us all day-tickets—”

The tape fast-forwards a little.

“—ended up really enjoying it. It’s amazing. Every day is different, and I get to just dance around and act like a crazy. At some point, I moved into Character department and eventually found my way here. Dark Magician Girl is so fun, and it’s wonderful making the kids smile. I’m very happy this is where I ended up.”

“And what do you have to say to your boss, the one who made this all possible?”

“Uhh…” she thinks about it for a moment. “Thank you for the opportunity, and um… yeah! Thanks! I don’t know where my life would be without you, Kaiba-san, but I… I wouldn’t trade it for anything. I-I mean—!”

She flushes just as the tape ends, mid-bow towards the camera.

[cirilla-fiona-riannon]

Kicho's Main Story Romantic Epilogue

These translations are not intended as a replacement for the game. Please support Cybird by buying their stories. Spoilers under the cut. Expect grammatical errors.

Kicho looked up from the letter as the hands of the clock ticked.

Kicho: “I see.”

Mai: “Um, what did it say?”

Kicho: “Just what you imagined.”

Kicho: “He said he’d love to have you play the leading role in his next show.”

Mai: “I knew it!”

Kicho: “Why did this happen in the first place? You’re in charge of the costumes, right?”

Mai: “I also have no idea.”

We both decided to live in a foreign country and after we found a place to live, we looked for a job.

He got invited to work as a merchant by a man he had become acquainted with through his work as a trade manager, while I got a job as a seamstress.

And this time, I was asked by a troupe to make costumes for a play.

(Hmm. What was the discussion I had with everyone during the meeting again?)

Mai: “Ah...!”

Kicho: “Do you have any idea what’s going on?”

Mai: “We couldn’t communicate well because the client wasn’t familiar with Japanese, so I asked someone else to interpret for me.”

Kicho: “Maybe that’s it. Some wrong info must have been passed on to the other side somewhere.”

Mai: “This is bad. I don’t know anything about acting.”

Mai: “I don’t wanna ruin the show, so I’ll refuse the offer tomorrow.”

Kicho: “I see.”

Mai: “What’s wrong?”

Kicho: “Based on this letter, it looks like he has high expectations of you.”

Kicho: “It also says that the survival of the troupe is at stake.”

Mai: “Hey, that’s just too much pressure!”

(There’s no way I could refuse if he said it like that.)

Kicho reached for the script enclosed with the letter, flipped through it, and sighed.

Kicho: “A typical story, but one that many will like.”

Kicho: “A princess from a foreign country hides her identity and meets a civilian man, eventually falling in love with him.”

Kicho: “But the truth is, he’s the prince of that country, and despite all the conflicts, they end up being together.”

Mai: “A princess, huh? Now I’ve lost all confidence to play that role.”

Kicho: “Have you forgotten? You’re the princess of the Oda clan in Japan.”

Mai: “That was just a title given to me. There’s nothing princess-like about me at all.”

Kicho: “I see. Then, how about experiencing it yourself?”

Mai: “Experience it...?

Kicho: “Even if the princess hid her identity, she would’ve at least had one of her servants.”

Kicho: “I can’t provide a castle, but I can recreate the situation the characters are in.”

(Um, is that...?)

He squinted his eyes as he looked straight at me, still confused.

Kicho: “Princess. I’m at your service.”

(Alright, today was a success.)

I breathed out in relief as I quietly closed the door.

(I woke up before him. I should finish getting ready.)

(Hmm?)

Suddenly feeling uneasy, I looked around the room and saw wrinkle-free clothes hanging on the wall and a set of combs in front of the mirror stand.

(Could it be...?)

Kicho: “Your demeanor changed dramatically in just a few days.”

Mai: “Kicho, you’re awake?”

(How? I made sure he was sleeping and didn’t make a sound when I got out of bed.)

Kicho: “It’s only natural that your servant should be awake before his master.”

Kicho: “Please come this way.”

He pulled out a chair in front of the mirror stand and urged me to go there.

Mai: “I’ll leave it to you then.”

I sat down as he told me, and I could feel him carefully combing my hair.

(Failed again today. He’s always one step ahead of me.)

It had been a few days since he started treating me like a princess.

Everything was so perfect that the only thing I did on my own was breathe.

And after a few days like that, I started to feel bad, more than comfortable.

(I’m honestly happy that he’s taking care of me.)

(I’m really happy, but I’m honestly not used to this kind of thing.)

Mai: “Um, Kicho.”

Kicho: “What is it?”

Mai: “We agreed yesterday that you’d return to your normal tone of voice.”

Mai: “How about starting today, we return to our usual morning routine?”

Kicho: “After finishing this, let’s have breakfast. I already prepared it last night.”

(Did he just ignore me?)

Surprised, I looked at his face in the mirror.

Kicho: “............”

Mai: “!”

He smiled and kissed my hair in his hand, making me blush and speechless.

(I feel bad, but honestly, these things are bad for my heart.)

(My heart’s been pounding all day about him.)

After eating our breakfast, we went into town to do some shopping.

Kicho: “I think we have everything we need. Is there anything else?”

Mai: “Yes. Can we buy something for my work?”

Mai: “I’m about to run out of accessories for the costume, so I want to add more.”

Kicho: “I see. Well, let’s go to the street over there.”

Kicho: “I believe they have the best selection.”

Kicho said this and held out his hand toward me.

Mai: “Huh?”

Kicho: “Just because we’re out in the open doesn’t mean I’ll stop.”

Mai: "I-I see. Thank you."

(He was trying to escort me.)

(It was so natural that I didn't get it for a second.)

I was about to take his hand when一

???: "Lady Mai!"

(Hm?)

I stopped and turned around to see a familiar woman and a foreign young man.

Kicho: "Do you know her?"

Mai: "Yes, she's the translator who helped me the other day at the costume meeting."

Mai: "I think the person beside her is probably her acquaintance."

I bowed lightly, and the woman walked up to me, smiling brightly.

Woman: "What a coincidence, Lady Mai. I've actually been looking for you."

Mai: "Huh? Is there something you need?"

Woman: "Yes. This is the person I told you about, your prince."

Mai: "----!"

The man standing next to her squinted his eyes and greeted me.

(I see. He's the prince in the upcoming play.)

(He wasn't at the meeting the other day, so I wonder if he came all the way here to see me.)

As I was wondering how to respond, Kicho took a step forward.

Kicho: "Mai, it's okay. I'll translate for you."

Mai: "Thank you."

(We won’t have the same misunderstanding we had the other day.)

Relieved, I greeted him casually, and Kicho spoke to both of us.

(I guess he’s used to it because of his job. He’s so natural, confident, and so cool, but一)

Despite the friendly atmosphere, a nagging feeling hung on the back of my chest.

(What’s this feeling? I freaking hate it.)

(I feel like walking away from this place right now.)

(Oh...)

Suddenly, the hand holding my hand tightened.

(I shouldn’t have done that. My expression was about to darken even though we were just talking.)

(He’s going to be my colleague, so I have to be firm.)

After we finished greeting each other, Kicho and I continued shopping.

By the time we made our way home, it was already dark.

Mai: “Sorry. I didn’t expect to stay in that store this long.”

Kicho: “Don’t worry about it. It’s good that you’re working hard.”

Kicho: “Above all, I’m sure you were able to make a satisfying purchase that was worth the trouble.”

Mai: “True. I’m sure the costumes will look great.”

Mai: “It’s just...”

Kicho: “You mean your role?”

He looked at me and said this.

Mai: “Even if it started from a misunderstanding, I want to do my best because they’re relying on me.”

Mai: “That’s what I thought.”

Kicho: "Is it different now?"

Mai: "I dunno."

The hazy feeling I felt earlier remained.

However, I still didn't know what triggered it, so I couldn't give him an answer.

(He's helping me out, so I need to get my shit together.)

(I need to do my best and finish the job.)

Kicho: "Then, just say no."

Mai: "What?"

Kicho: "I'll write a letter and find a replacement. Fortunately, I have connections."

Kicho: "If you're feeling sad about it, you should put your own feelings first before the convenience of others."

Mai: "My feelings...?"

Kicho: "Even if someone blames you for it, I'll protect you because you are, above all else, my irreplaceable, one and only princess."

Mai: "............"

His sweet words, which sounded like something you might hear in a story, made my heart race.

Mai: "Thank you very much, Kicho."

Mai: "Then let me think about it tonight."

Kicho: "Yeah. Let's go back then."

Mai: "Okay."

Nodding, we intertwined our fingers and started to walk away.

The next morning.

(Okay, today's the day.)

Bracing myself, I quietly closed the door and hurried to the mirror to comb my hair, change my clothes, then prepare the meal.

(I wonder if Kicho will wake up soon.)

As I put a freshly cooked egg on a plate while looking at the clock on the wall一

Kicho: "I knew it."

Mai: "Morning. I see you noticed the clothes I left for you."

Kicho: "Yeah, I guess this is the right choice."

Mai: "Fufu, that's correct. Well then, please come here."

I pulled a chair from the dining room table and urged him to sit down, which he did, still looking confused.

Kicho: "What the hell is this all about?"

Mai: "It's only natural to wake up first to take care of my lover."

Kicho: "In other words, there’s no longer any need for you to play the role."

Mai: "Yes. I got my answer right away last night."

Mai: "No matter what I do, I can't play that role."

Mai: "I can't do it unless it's you."

Mai: "Even if it's just a story, I can't imagine being with someone else."

Kicho: "I see. So that's why you had that dark look on your face."

He smirked and looked at me happily.

Kicho: “I know how you feel. Then I’ll have to arrange a replacement for you.”

Kicho: “But first...”

Mai: “Ah...”

He put his hand around the back of my head and pulled me closer.

As soon as our lips met, we kissed two or three more times.

Mai: “Nn...Kicho...”

I could clearly see Kicho’s face as he squinted his eyes seductively.

But before I could admire his beauty, his hot tongue slipped between my lips.

Mai: “Ahh...ngh...”

Kicho: “Nnn...Mai...”

His sensual kisses almost drain me of my strength.

Perhaps sensing this, he put his arms around my waist and placed me on his lap.

Mai: “Mnn...w-what’s wrong?”

(Normally, he never asks for anything so suddenly like this.)

Kicho: “Nothing. I just want to make you feel love.”

Kicho: “I’m not a prince, but you, my love, give your heart and soul to me.

Mai: “That’s not true, ah...”

We began kissing deeply again, and we said no more words.

He gently stroked my head, almost melting me with his devouring kisses.

(Being loved like this makes it even harder to go back, so I want to fall in love even more.)

Mai: “Kicho. I love you. I love you so much.”

Kicho: “Yeah. Me too, Mai.”

I was sure I looked far from a princess now, but that didn’t matter anymore.

Kicho: “The theater is just down the street? It’s pretty crowded.”

Mai: “The troupe is so popular. Everyone in this town knows them now.”

One month after I turned down the lead role, the substitute actress Kicho had arranged to fill in my place, performed splendidly, and made the play a huge success.

Today, we received an invitation to that play as a thank-you for our help with the costumes and casting.

Mai: “Still, it looks like most attendees are lovers.”

Mai: “Everywhere I look, there are lots of couples like that.”

Kicho: “You’re right. We probably look like that from their perspective, too.”

He said this and lightly lifted our clasped hands.

(I see. Not only in my heart, but in the eyes of those around us, he and I are lovers.)

(I know it’s obvious, but realizing it makes me happy.)

Mai: “There’s only one person who can take my hand.”

Kicho: “And I have no intention of giving it to anyone else.”

Kicho: “I’ll escort you for the rest of your life.”

Mai: “Yes!”

Feeling happier than anyone else, I walk beside Kicho to the theater where the curtain of the love story is about to rise.

Previous Part╏Gacha╏Full Love Bonus

[xnorthstar3x]

Mothers Daughter

Part 2 in gamble series part 1

“Well let’s get up there I gotta take a shower.” (Y/N) said leading him into the building the desk clerk slept as they entered feet propped up on the desk. The elevator ride to (Y/N)’s apartment was uneventful and awkwardly quiet. Bakugo had traded his hero costume for civiles and 2 duffel bags that contained a months worth of clothing in each. (Y/N) lead him to her apartment unlocking it and entering quietly she kicked her shoes off and shut the door behind him locking all the locks and sliding the chain lock in place. She turned on the light slipping on slippers and greeted her cat on the sofa who mewled disapprovingly of the visitor in her entry way.

“It’s only for a few months kiko he’ll be gone then.” She said scratching the cat on the head. She walked into the kitchen and shook a bag of food filling two bowls and filling two water bowls up she washed her hands as 2 cats made their way to the kitchen and made her way into another room Bakugo followed her as she entered seeing a hospital bed, with a woman with similar features as (Y/N) watching the news. (Y/N) walked over to the monitor and checked the screen.

“Who’s this handsome man in the doorway. Are you finally gonna give me some grandkids (Y/N).” She said smiling at Bakugo who stood unmoving in the door way a bit shocked by the view.

“They’re be cute wouldn’t they mamá.” (Y/N) said handing her some pills and a glass of water.

“I’m (M/N), I may be in this bed but I’ll still kick your ass if you even think about hurting my baby girl. She works to hard to take care of us to be treated badly." She took the medicine.

“Lemme go clean up and I’ll get started on dinner alrighty.” (Y/N) said pulling her domino mask off and running a hand through her hair. She stood and smiled at her mother who smiled back and nodded channel surfing. (Y/N) walked past katsuki who followed her to the living room once again.

“I’m gonna take a shower, I’d offer you to join but I know you’ll decline.” She winked at him and he grunted in response putting his bag down near the futon. He looked up to find her gone but he could hear her in her room rummaging through her things. He looked to the door way of her mothers room and pondered an idea. He stalked toward her room and tapped lightly on the door.

“What is your favorite dish Miss (M/N)?”

.🐈‍⬛.

(Y/N) stepped out of the bathroom in sleep shorts and a large shirt. Her freshly washed hair tied up in a bun on top of her head. The first thing she noticed was the sound of her mothers voice laughing and chatting with Bakugo. The second thing was the smell of a home cooked meal. She stalked forward and caught eyes with katsuki in the kitchen as he placed something on the island counter in front of (M/N). She gave him an approving look. As her mother turned her wheelchair around to face her.

“(Y/N) you better hold onto this boy he can cook. You aren’t that bad at it huh but he definitely would put some meat on those bones of yours.” She teased as (Y/N) walked forward shaking her head playfully. She took a seat next to her mother and noticed it was her mothers favorite dish on the counter. As much as she loved Japanese food her mother always had a love for Chinese Cuisine and would tear into some gong bao chicken anytime she could. Katsuki sat a bowl of white rice in front of (Y/N) who looked up at him with a soft gaze. She picked up some chopsticks and started loading food into her mothers own rice bowl who swatted her away commenting about how she wasn’t helpless.

“Now how did you two meet?” (Y/N) mother asked gently sipping some jasmine tea. (Y/N) met Katsuki’s eyes, he nodded discreetly for her to answer. She shook her head and he stuffed his mouth in response.

“Well mother I’d love to tell you but Katsuki just loves to tell the tale. He says I simplify things to much.” She said smirking at him as she sipped her own tea he glared but softened his gaze when he noticed her mother turn to him.

“Well miss (M/N) it started out like any other day.” His deep voice rumbled lightly explaining how he happened to bump into her one night and couldn’t let her get away. It wasn’t completely a lie he found himself smiling as he spun the tale. (Y/N) found herself softly gazing up at him, the smile he wore made it’s way to his eyes, he looked pretty good with a grin on that harsh face. He was certainly her type, she preferred a man who could pick her up with ease and do just about anything he wanted to her. Her thoughts drifted off else where imagining all the fun they could have if he’d loosen up a bit.

“Well this meal was amazing, but an old lady’s gotta sleep.” (M/N) said placing her empty rice bowl down, (Y/N) swallowed and rose from her seat following her mom to help her into bed. “Goodnight mama. See you in the morning.” (Y/N) said turning the light off the glow from the tv giving her mothers face a glint as she smiled.

“Goodnight tiger.” (M/N) said winking suggestively at her daughter who rolled her eyes playfully.

He’s a hottie her mother mouthed wiggling her brows as (Y/N) shut the door with a grin. She turned to face Katsuki who stood at the counter chewing his last bite. His gaze traveled to her it wasn’t harsh but it wasn’t soft, somewhere in between.

“If you want I can lay out a futon mat for you in my room or you can sleep in my bed if that suits you more.” She said winking at him. He snorted sipping his tea.

“You couldn’t handle me in your bed tiger.” He said gazing over top his cup. The way he used (Y/N)’s mothers nickname placed a light blush to her ear tips she smirked.

“I could handle you I’m sure. I’d be happy to demonstrate.” She said walking over to a linen closet to grab a futon mat taking it to her room. Katsuki shamelessly watched her walk out of the room his eyes targeting the green shorts she wore the words Dynamite printed across the butt in orange letters. His eyes grew shocked and he almost choked on his tea. She was wearing his merch, his name was written on her ass. She definitely planed that out.

Series masterlist

[invisibleraven]

Gotta be larger than life

Written for the Year of the OTP challenge prompt: fairy tale

Pairing: Reggie/Carrie

On AO3!

Definitely stretching the prompt fill on this one, but I got the idea and it wouldn't let go. I am just so fascinated by Carrie Wilson, and this just came to me as a interesting character study with some Sweet Tarts slipped in. Hope you enjoy!

All her life, all Carrie Wilson wanted to be was a princess. Every Halloween or chance to dress up, she demanded a poofy pink dress and a crown from her father who always agreed. Called her princess as a term of endearment and ruffled her honey blonde hair when he did.

Thankfully no one questions little girls about why they wanted to be a princess.

It wasn’t the power, no. Even if Carrie got a strange delight in people listening to her, a nice little feeling when she got her own way. But she didn’t need a crown for that.

It wasn’t the riches either. Her dad was a millionaire musician with his face on his very own helicopter. Carrie was dripping in designer fashion and jewels after every gift giving holiday. She literally wanted for nothing.

It wasn’t even because she longed for some handsome prince, even if she did want to be saved occasionally. Swooning over the pictures in her books over the hero pressing tender kisses to the princess’ hand.

But none of those were the real reason Carrie longed to be a princess.

Princesses didn’t have mothers who left you on a doorstep at three days old with a note not to bother to find them. And no amount of wasted birthday wishes or pleas to Santa was bringing Paige Shepard back.

Princesses had fathers who were busy ruling kingdoms but were still there. Not off touring the country or off on some meditation retreat, leaving her to be raised by nannies and maids. Living off tofu and kale in a tasteless, sugarless existence because her father got hung up on eating healthy as a teen.

Princesses didn’t grow up lonely, unloved, and feeling like they were never enough. So Carrie dreamed of a life where she was royalty, pushed down all those bad feelings, and kept her head up high, wearing her imaginary crown to keep going.

Because maybe she didn’t live in a fairy tale, but Carrie was still gonna damn well try for that happy ending.

As she grew, Carrie still wanted to be a princess. Only a pop princess who ruled the stage with her killer lyrics and well choreographed dance moves. Poofy dresses got traded in for hot pink sparkly jackets and a matching wig replaced her tiara.

Now when people called her princess, it wasn’t said lovingly with a gentle smile and a pat to the head (her dad was the only one allowed to touch her hair like that to this day, anyone else who even tried got cut down by her killer glare). Now it was said with derision, like she was some prissy stuck up brat, who thought herself better than anyone.

Well she was, but she never tried to act like it… well not that much.

But at night, when she stripped off the Pink Candi costume, hung up her wig, and snuggled under her covers-Carrie sometimes cried, because words hurt, and she hated that they twisted her dream into something ugly, something to be mocked. Her security became a wound more than armour.

That was, until she met Reggie Peters.

Reggie was a year above her, but after Thomas Jefferson High burned down, their students got shoved into Los Feliz, and so Reggie had to finish out his senior year at a new school. She ran into him on the first day, wandering the halls, looking confused and alone, and completely out of place in his ripped jeans and leather jacket.

“Hi there, I was wondering if you could help me?” he asked as Carrie’s eyes met his. They were a light green, making Carrie think of a springtime meadow.

“I can try,” she said. Normally she wouldn’t be one to help anyone-had to look out for number one after all. But he had this sad, lost puppy quality to him, so Carrie offered up her services. She had always had a thing for pathetic animals, even if she hid how often she volunteered at the animal shelter because it didn’t fit the persona she wanted to give off. Those who had been abandoned had to stick together though, right? Plus at the shelter she could be-and was-loved with no reservations or pretense, something that Carrie desperately needed after long days pretending to be above it all.

Anyways, there was still a lost puppy looking at her, so Carrie shook herself from her melancholy thoughts and faced him, prepared to help one more soul who needed her.

It didn’t hurt that up close she could see the tiny golden freckles that bridged across his face, or the slightly crooked grin that burst forth when she agreed. “Thanks so much,” he said, showing her his schedule. “I’m supposed to report to Mr. Johnson for homeroom, and then someone is supposed to show me around, but I have no clue where his room is.”

“I have Johnson too, so you can just follow me,” Carrie replied. Reggie grinned once more and she tried to ignore how much she liked his smile, the way he ran his fingers through his dark hair with effortless ease, the way he almost bounced as he walked.

They made small talk on the way to class, and Carrie found out that Reggie was a musician, his three best friends and band mates had been transferred here too, but Alex was dating a student here, so they were probably in some broom closet of another, Luke probably skipped, and Bobby was home sick after catching a cold at his lifeguarding job. Thus him being alone today, but he blushed when he glanced at her and admitted he didn’t mind so much right now.

Carrie treasured that blush, the petal soft pink that mimicked the colour of every beloved childhood gown that lived on in her heart. She smiled back, a rare genuine one, pulling on a strand of hair to hide her own matching blush, but from the twinkle in Reggie’s eyes and the small bump to her shoulder, she doubted she succeeded.

“Get a new peon princess?” Kyle Baxter sneered as she passed, and Carrie stiffened, but didn’t even deign to look his way in response.

“Hey dude, lay off, she’s being nice enough to help the new kid out!,” Reggie shot back and then steered them further up the hall. His hand was warm and large at the small of her back, and Carrie felt herself blush even further, but the reasons were muddled. “Ugh, I hate jerks like that.”

“Me too, but I’m used to it by now,” Carrie replied.

“You shouldn’t have to be,” Reggie replied. “You let me know if he tries it again, I have a mean left hook.”

“I don’t think that’s how you want to start out your time here,” Carrie cautioned. “Getting into stupid fights to defend my honour. I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Of that I have no doubt,” Reggie replied, winking at her. “But what kind of knight would I be if I didn’t stand up for my princess?”

Carrie’s heart fluttered at that, at the sincerity in his voice, the way he said princess like it was a title given with honour instead of derision. From him, it sounded sweet, like honey on her tongue while Kyle and everyone else had inspired a bitter taste that had almost ruined the word for her. Yet she couldn’t let Reggie know that, instead keeping her shields up, just in case.

“You’re a knight now?” Carrie asked with an eye roll.

“Technically I’m a half elf paladin,” Reggie amended with a shrug. “Sorry, I like D&D. Kind of a code to stick up for the nobility. Lawful good and all.”

“And I’m a princess?” Carrie asked, a small blossom of hope trying to bloom inside of her.

“Yeah, you’ve got that regal quality about you,” Reggie replied. “Plus I bet you would rock a tiara.”

“Sadly none of them seem to fit anymore,” Carrie said. At Reggie’s questioning glance, she shook her head and waved at the door before them. “Here we are. Home room.”

“Well Your Highness, thank you for escorting this humble knight to the start of his quest,” Reggie said with a deep bow, pressing a tiny feather light kiss to her knuckles that made Carrie blush right to the roots of her hair. “Lemme know if you wanna play D&D sometime, I think you’d like it. You could wear the tiara there.”

“Could my character be a real princess?” Carrie asked, the words slipping out, almost tumbling off her tongue. But she didn’t take them back, just looked at Reggie expectantly.

“I’d expect nothing less,’ Reggie said before entering the room to talk to the teacher.

Carrie wasn’t sure if she walked or floated to her desk, but she definitely knew she spent half of the period staring at Reggie across the room and not being one scrap of attention to anything said. For one moment, she had felt like a princess, and she wasn’t giving that feeling up for anyone, not even if others jeered when they addressed her.

And if she ended up getting a new tiara just so she could play Princess Alaria, her druid princess along with Sir Elton of Suffolk, well, no one could say she wasn’t dressed appropriately. Reggie told her that Luke brought a honest to goodness lute one session, so she’d fit right in.

Sure, Carrie knew she would never be a real princess. Maybe not even a pop one, even if Dirty Candi was in talks with an up and coming manager after their last performance.

But come Homecoming, with Reggie on her arm? She felt like a queen, tiara and all, and he promised that from here on out, their fairy tale would be one beautiful story, with a guaranteed happy ending.

And somehow? Carrie believed him. Fairy tales might not be real, but the prince of a man on her arm who treated her like royalty certainly was, and that was good enough for her.

[fumikomiyasaki]

[ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐊 ] ― sender recognises receiver at a masquerade party

For Ellis and fennec and Carol and Fabian!

Maybe something for the Victorian au!

The Five Senses

As usual the Miladies of the Verdeville house were invited to one of the most luxurious parties in town... many Bachelors waiting to have a chance to dance with Milady Ellis and Miss Carol on the Mask ball... every mask was different, every dress as carefully crafted as possible... as Ellis already noticed Carol being surrounded by many suitors who chatted her up, she broke away to seek the dance floor, yet she hoped eventually one nobleman would ask her for a dance... she saw the different duos and began swooning as she noticed someone holding out his hand to her... his statue was small, the hat covered a lot of his hair yet something seemed familiar.

"May I ask for this dance?"

She recognized his voice too. Who could he be.

"I would gladly lend you my hand to dance. "

A slight giggle escaped her as she placed her hand in his... he seemed not that professional but made well to adapt his movement with hers... sway around with her... despite his short height he still put enough effort to be a good lead, yet looking into his eyes she gasped suddenly.

"Fennec... is that you... I can't believe it... you look so fancy."

"You remember the costume maker in the opera.... he said you only have your ball of your dreams once in your life... I may not be a good nobleman but."

She shook her hand and looked at him smiling brightly.

"I love you made the effort just to dance with me, you could have gone in trouble with your original work."

He nodded a bit shyly as they continued their dance a little.

"Listen Ellis I..."

"My dear gentleman, may I have a dance with this Lady as well."

As Fennec got interupted by another person who wanted to change partners he was grumpy but then sighed and let Ellis hand go.

"You can tell me what you wanna say later, thanks for dancing with me."

As she left he walked off looking outside the Balcony.

"This isn't just something I can say."

While Ellis had her dance... Carol was still a bit overwhelmed by so many people who wanted to ask her for a dance first, saying she needed a break and settling to the side, watching the scene... yet one person didn't listen... one Well known Nobleman she knew for a While.

"Mister Innochi, didn't I tell you I am not interest."

"Madam Verdeville, I am just here to make humble offering."

He put a fancy bracelet on her arm... eyes as striking as usual trying to get what was going on with her.

"I would also fancy if you were to join me in a dan-"

"No thank you... and you could keep your gifts, they are wasted on me..."

"Is this still about the trade?"

"Yes it is... my father almost got in danger cause of your family."

He bowed and took off his head.

"I hope maybe one day you will forgive me."

As he left however another masked figure apporached her... a dashing suit and a smile on his face.

"Miss Verdeville, may I?"

"Its you right?"

Her face crept up a light blush as he pulled her by her hips closer.

"I don't know what you are talking about, but I sure came to steal something away."

"As usual it seems..." She sighs as she followed him to the dancefloor.

"Sometimes I did wish you came for me..."

"And risk all those suitors dragging me into a fight? No way? Althought technically I do come for what makes you beautiful."

She grew a bit redder as she felt a faint touch on her hand just for her to get off the bracelet herself.

"Take it, but at least stay a little long for this dance, thats all I can ask."

"As you wish, Milady."

She enjoyed the close feeling... the chats they had, even if they drawn a lot of eyes of the room on them... so after wards she agreed quick to help him get out as unseen as possible, as she went to the balcony with him and he was about to leave she still hesitated.

"Whats the matter? Missing me already?"

"I am just intrigued is all... I rather prefer you take these slimey jewelry of me and use if for what you said you would than me keeping it an letting it collect dust."

"I take that as an invitation to the next party then."

"If you grant me another dance again, then yes."

Both gave another a smile before he left of the balcony... her sighing as he walked off.

"Why did I have to fall for someone like this?..."

[chessalein]

Yet another AU for my loves

I don't know if I ever told you about this different Story I had for Jackie and Nori.

If I did I'm sorry then you can ignore that, or read again in case some ideas have changed over time.

In short: Jackie, V, and a costumer go into a abdoned laboratory and meet a teeny tiny robot who houses Nori from time to time. Not knowing that she isn't the only living thing there left.

Longer version that I never really followed up on:

The two mercs got a job that should be easy: Bodyguarding the Professor who is exploring and abdoned laboratory.

Whispers and older writings said that somewhere in the badlands was once a company doing experiments, not one that was with the big ones of NC what was their falldown in the end.

So after lots of hard work and lots of money, she found it. Feeling like a modern archaeologist who found the tunnel system of the pyramids. And to be protected from evil mummies, she got some bodyguards. These were Jackie, V and two other people. Packed with guns, food, flashlights and some tech so she could get the data of what is in there, they made their way down.

It was pitch black and dead silent except for their footsteps. They looked through the quaters and the laboratories they found in the first few levels, but when they entered the fifth one, V notices that they have company. She proof that as she told everyone to suddenly stand still.

After they stopped, little pocks could be herd that got slower as they stood still. Something that went from runninng to standing still. It wasn't that loude, but still easy to hear if you know what you have to look out for. Shining around, they couldn't see anything butgot out their guns just for savetey. They did this a few times and at one point, one of the other guys noticed a little robot that would hide behind the beams on the sides of the way, fitting perfectly behind it so it wasn't seen.

They approached it and it seemed to be scared. Leveled in as non-threatening, they went on till they decide that did anough for this day and used one of the sleeping quaters at the 7th floor. Eating, drinking and planing the next day, broading why it is empty, it didn't look like it was cleared over time, more in a hasty way. They notice that they have a little visitor but decided to just act like they didn't.

That night the little bot looked all the stuff that touched the ground that looked like gigantic towers beside it. It checked out their boots, their jackets and their bag. Even accidently bringing one bag to fall and spilling some of the apples they had with them, after staring at them for a bit, it runs off.

The next two levels it was gone, thinking that the incident might have scared it away. But as they had a lunchbreak at another lab, it reappeared, together with a rolled up paper in its arms that was much bigger than it. Through body gesture, it made its intention clear: It wanted the apple Jackie was eating and even wanted to pay for it with the money it brought.

Amused by that, Jackie agrees to the deal even though it was way too much money.

The robot rolls away with the apple.

The next time they rest, the same thing occured. The little robot had money with it and wanted to trade. But this it it refused the apple Jackie was offering, it wanted another one. No one knew whats the difference, but he sealed the deal once again and it went off with that apple as well.

Their journey goes on and further down, the visitor came again. This time with a whole wallet where she pulled out the cash that was in it. Going through it, they found the ID, credit chips, drivers licence and a bunch of money from someone who seemed to have been one of the guards here. The back was dirty and covered in a dark substance, probably blood. Now knowing where the money came from he offered it yet again an apple. It refused and made gestures that he should come with her.

He is more carefull now, not knowing where exactly it had this from and if it was the cause of the blood. It brought him to a kitchen and with lots of questions he found out that it wished that he would open the cabinets and a drawer. The cabinets where still filled with foods and snacks and it seemed that Jackies job was done with that. It begun to dragg the snacks away, throwing it down a staircase that was cluttered and distroyed. The same did it with some of the cans, but it did select wiseley. Confused what the difference is, he asks V who was as confused as him.

When the work was done, the robot dissapeared again, leaving the group with more questions than answers. A few levels later as soon as they came to the quarters, the little friend stood in front of the kitchen with another wallet. Seemingly wanting to buy Jackies services again. He did it and it went down like the last time.

This time he asked the little thing what it was doing, but he couldn't understand what it wanted to say even though its body language was good. The single thing he could understand was the belly rubbing but it wasn't a surprising clue when it was about bringing food away. It stayed with them for the night, just sitting in the middle of the room, looking what they were doing. But it sowed that she saw especially Jackie as a friend or ally. Hanging out closer to him than the others while he incloded the little bot in their talk as well. Making sure it doesn't feel like an outsider.

The next day, it wanted to buy V's service, handing her a new wallet with ID, money etc and guided her to tech room. There was a generator and a fusebox. The robot made it clear that she should turn on the generator and *only* the fuse for this level. Not the others. That was a no-no.

She activated it and finally the lights were on, giving them a good view of the level. Now the robot brought V to a console that she should activate and so she did.

A voice echoed suddenly through the corridors. A warm, gentle one.

"Welcome to xyz laboratories. I don't recognice any of you, may I ask for your name?"

In a addition to that, a holographic imaged of a lady was projected into the middle of the corridor. The little robot ran up to him, gesturing happiness on its way.

"Hi sweety. Are you alright? Its been a long time." She greeted it seemingly happy as well.

As they gave their name and asking who she was, she said that she was an AI that was programmed to take care of the experiments. Warning them that some probably are still roaming here and that she has no connection because of the missing power so that she can't tell them exactly. From her they learn that their little robot friend is a woman named "Nori" and that the body she has is borrowed or like a second one. Her main body has to still be somewhere down there, alive, if not this little robot wouldn't operate anymore.

Through the AI thats called Amata, they also found out what happened. It was a spy from the bigger corporates who were angry this lab wouldn't work with them together, angry that they came further with their research and inventions. So they did send someone to sabbotage them, only to make a mistake and releasing some of the experiments that went wild. Taking lots of lifes down there while higher up the people just fled.

Assuring them that Nori wasn't one of them as she always was a very obedience character who wanted to please people. They even got blueprints of the building and files of the tests that were done here in exchange to go down to Nori. They should try to get her out there if its possible or if it is too bad, release her from her misery.

Little Nori dissapeared and later they could hear a loud, pained moaning from the lower levels. Amata explaines that Nori switches between the robot and her real body so she probably went into it causing her pain.

Jackie used his flashlight to shine down the staircase the little robot threw down the food all along to see movement at the base, a creature cowering over the pile, feasting away.

The doctor agreed to the deal and told the AI that Nori will get the help she needs if it is possible to save her. Hoping that it will be easier to do so with the tech that was still remaining in here.

Thats it. I never got further because I din't know what to make out of it. Of course they would rather help than killing her. They would encounter other experements of some who were lost causes and others that were hostile. They would find the poor souls that were meant to stop them 6 years ago but lost their lifes.

Noris size would be one of a Nendoroid, but she wouldn't look much human. I never knew what her design would be. I wanted her to be able to express her feelings well like the little Astro bots from playstation and let her go with them on the adventure as the little bot, learning that she is capable to make sounds and teach her that she could use that to talk as well. Like Hatsune Miku. She would even sing them songs sometime, especially after Jackie showed her some he had on his phone.

They would form a great friendship down there and he would kind of miss her when they are out. I guess thats where the kind of lovestory would start. Visiting her at the institut, showing her the city and all that.

Thats it :) You have my respect if you did read till here.

[uncouth-the-fifth]

imagine damian and the reader at the wayne gala. he gets jealous when he sees her flirting with someone else. he ends up pulling her into a bathroom and fucking her in front of a mirror while saying that other person can’t treat her like he does

and that’s how the reader finds out damian has feelings for her. all this time he acted like he hates her because he’s in denial

Title: More Than They Ever Said

Paring: Robin!Damian (18+) / Canary!Reader

Tags/Warnings: semi-public sex, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, bathroom sex, slight underage drinking (reader is like 20 lol), mentions of golf.

Word Count: 7150

Notes: sooooo.... this def evolved beyond a drabble lol. the way gala sex kills me every time 😭 I was a little mushy w Dami here bc I miss his sweet side. This also sounded a lot like goldenspecs12's request from Wattpad, so I hope you don't mind that I meshed the two together 😚 I leaned toward Damian liking the reader more than being in denial, but that’s the only thing I sacrificed between the two requests. This one is my fluffiest and most romantic yet 💖

"can I request Damian w a Queen reader, like she's Oliver and Dinah's child? say the reader is a hero but not very active, like she comes in when her parents can't. so when she and Damian meet, they hit it off. The main request is that they sneak away at a gala held by Oliver and the reader and Damian have sex."

Ask to be added to my taglist for future posts!

The party was more fun than you thought it would be.

Benefits were usually chalk-full of old, wealthy people that thought they made good conversationalists. The board members of Queen Industries were tired of Oliver trying to escape their claws, so you’d been recruited in his place. While your dad got to play minigolf in the penthouse’s massive party floor, you were confined to the lounge, playing up what an intelligent, capable business partner you’d be when you were CEO. Fellow businessmen gruffed about their plans with you while their wives cooed and drank, pinching your cheeks.

You thought that you’d hate it, but the attention and the praise was nice. It made you feel like you were helping your dad and your family’s company, which was constantly criticized and judged for it’s choice in CEO. Everyone called your father a lazy silver-spooned idiot, but he was one of the only men in Star City who actually cared. By the time you had Q.I’s biggest donors laughing out of their seats, Dinah’s hands slipped over your shoulders and you were kissed on the side of the face. Thank you, she mouthed, and your position as family support-beam was covered.

Since most of the benefit-goers were at least forty years your senior, you gravitated to your dad. From the penthouse’s upper balcony, you could see his friends circling around the tiny green mats they were using as a makeshift golf course. Usually, Ollie made sure his public persona’s aim was as garbage as his taste in drink was. But tonight, he played as Green Arrow, who never missed. Not once. Especially when it came to Bruce Wayne, who’s golf game was abysmal at best.

But like Oliver, Bruce was a new man tonight. It looked like he was ready to break out the batarangs any minute now. The two men were barely civil about the viciousness of their competition, and if the view of the game from the balcony was interesting, then from below it must’ve been the greatest show of fragile masculinity ever displayed. You had to make fun of them.

The only opening in the circle of men, who all had their hands on their chins as Bruce lined up his next shot, was by the floor-to-ceiling windows to one side of the game. Just one man stood there, hands in his pockets. You slid next to him, unbothered, and squinted at the game.

Everyone in the crowd was dead silent. Bruce was lining up his golf ball so it would roll into a mug a couple of feet away, so you helpfully provided, “A little to the left, Mr. Wayne.”

Your words overlapped with someone else’s. Where you had said Mr. Wayne, they had said Father. Then the man next to you was his son, but...

You would have never guessed it would be him.

Reasonably, you knew that Robin was Damian Wayne. Oliver could be a little loose-lipped at times, and by his judgment you’d been a teenager just a year ago - what could a twenty year old do to Batman’s secret identity? Not much.

Until you saw Robin without his mask.

Damian was achingly beautiful. He was your age, but he stood and talked like he was much older. There was an angle to his shoulder that made him seem astute and sexy. His eyes fixed on you when you spoke at the same time, and they were a surprising mossy color that jumped out against his tan skin, like plants flourishing out of rich soil. There was just enough blue in them to make him seem haunting. Any moment, you felt like he was going to corner you and whisper your future throatily in your ear.

Looking into them, those piercing eyes, for longer than a second made you want to blurt, “You’re much prettier without your mask.”

But that would expose his secret to every golf-loving idiot in earshot, so Oliver had been wrong. A twenty-year-old like you could do fatal damage to Batman’s secret identity, but for Damian, the short-tempered, snappish leader of the Teen Titans, you would risk anything.

Damian stared, and you stared. He squinted, wet his lips, then turned back to the game. This was your only acknowledgment that he recognised you. His voice was deeper, smoother, than you remember it. “Queen.”

You shifted in your shoes, almost laughing in shock. “...Wayne.”

The game grew boring and Damian didn’t say anything else, so you said nothing too, sneaking glances at him. The last time you’d spoken to Robin had been in costume, when he’d thanked you for assisting with a mission. He’d really been thanking you for standing up for him. You didn’t team up often with the Titans, but when you did, you found that they were unusually snappy and mean with their leader. Not necessary on purpose, but you could tell that Damian couldn’t take as many bites as he pretended to. Standing up for him had been a simple thing. The good thing to do. Now, with that look in his eyes, it almost felt like he still thought about it.

He must have, because the kiss you shared at the end of that mission had glowed with heat. To be fair, you both may have believed you were going to die (before the team pulled through and saved you), so it could’ve been a heat-of-the-moment thing. But this was Robin - if he didn't want to kiss you, he wouldn't. And yet he did.

You’d kissed. And the energy of that kiss lingered between you now, drawing you closer together, putting tiny smiles on your faces. He was cute. Cuter without that mask on.

You stood in the stupid golf silence, feeling foolish. Flirting with boys was much easier in fishnets. It didn’t help how fine Damian’s profile was. He had soft, feathery lashes that occasionally touched down on beauty marked cheeks. His lips were even fuller from the side, forever drawn in a curious line. And those eyes, when they caught yours and danced away again, were much too nice to hide behind a mask. You couldn’t get that thought out of your mind.

When Bruce finally made his move, you leaned in to whisper something to each other at the same time, accidentally knocking shoulders.

“I - apologies,” Damian flushed.

“Oh, um, my bad,” you rubbed awkwardly at the spot where you’d collided. “...You were going to say something?”

Damian’s eyes flicked to your fathers, then to you, unimpressed. He lowered his voice so only you could hear. “They’re awfully hypocritical, don’t you think? Father snaps at me everytime I use my skills in public, and yet he’s putting with perfect aim like it’s not the very same.”

Chuckling, you rolled your eyes and scooted closer, ducking your voice into the bubble between your bodies. “My dad’s the same way. Don’t aim in the house, he says, unless it’s him trying to beat Bruce Wayne.”

Your company’s shoulders turned sideways, leaning into you. His breath ghosted the hair on your neck, standing it on end, and again that silky voice sent tingles down your spine. Damian must change his voice as Robin, because he never spoke like this then. So huskily, so low.

He shook his head. “Unbelievable.”

You watched him. He watched you. You ran your tongue over your teeth, and Damian subtly adjusted his slacks from his pockets.

At the same time, you asked each other, “Would you like to get a drink?”

_

Your hiding place was a loveseat in the lounge, between more businessmen and their ditzy heirs. The bartender was your family’s, so he smiled and turned down your request for a drink, courtesy of your dad’s strictness. Luckily, he didn’t recognise Damian. You watched him order it at the bar, his rings catching the light, the muscle in his arms peeking out from under his blazer.

“I think he suspected I wasn’t of age, so he only gave me one.” He took the place next to you, propping his ankle on one knee and lounging out like a panther. Damian offered the cocktail to you, once he’d decided the coast was clear. It was a cute gesture. “Is that acceptable?”

You fished a five dollar bill out of your purse. “Only if you take this for paying. Don’t think I didn’t see you try and sneakily get that past me.”

Damian scrutinized the bill, then you, somehow managing to be a smartass without opening his mouth. Instead of thinking about how nice it would feel to kiss the slight crease between his brows, you traded hands with him so the bill was in his and the drink was in yours. The gentle brush of you palm to his knuckles put way too many butterflies in your belly.

You talked about everything and anything. About home, family life, your cities. The best of it was when Damian dipped his head so only you could hear him, keeping your secrets close and your bodies closer. This was the only way he talked about Robin, so you circled back to any vigilante subject you could think of just so Damian would keep purring into your ear like that. Better yet, he was smart. Talking to him was engaging, and within minutes he'd entranced you, so you sat there talking for more than an hour. Around you, the party rotated and went on.

At one point, you took a drink of the cocktail and passed it to him to share. Damian placed his lips right where yours had been, licking up the cocktail salt and gulping it down slow, adam’s apple bobbing, like it wasn’t the taste of the vodka he was savoring.

Eventually, your bliss was broken. Damian was called over to his father, again, to discuss business, and he left you with your remaining cocktail and the memory of that mission. You couldn’t find a reason to move from your seat. When you’d realized that you and Robin had been led into a trap on that mission, it’d been too late, and your efforts to escape became more and more futile. All you could do was pray the Titans got to you on time. Robin had offered you his glove as the walls closed in, and you’d watched up-close as he assumed you were both about to die. The fear in his eyes was strange - like it was familiar to him. At the same time, you cupped his neck and he held your upper back, and you’d kissed fervently, sweetly.

Damian had put his forehead to yours, and promised even as the trap shrunk around you, “You were excellent. More excellent than they ever said.”

In the big picture, it was a strange last remark to make, and afterwards you’d been too happy about surviving to think about it. But in the moment, you understood. You were understood. Somehow, Damian had reached into your soul and gouged out the words you’d been dying to hear, from your parents, from anyone, and uttered them to you with burning conviction. Maybe it was the adrenaline, or maybe he meant it. Damian found you excellent. Someone, somewhere, didn’t think you were a failure.

Odd, how you’d never seen the face of the man you thought you’d die with (until now), and yet he saw you so easily. You watched him follow his father into the party crowd now, wondering. The Titans had saved you before you could ask what he’d meant. More importantly, before you could tell him the same. He was excellent.

_

Once you’d finished off your drink, you left it at the bar and grinned evilly at your family bartender. He rolled his eyes and slyly delivered you another, which, on your superhero schedule, would not have you drunk yet. Another heir to some big company was seated at your right, ignored by his father enough to look for some small talk with you.

He was one of the cute, nerdy types that were usually in awe of you. Girls, available girls, were typically rare at these kinds of parties, so he took you not having a boyfriend as permission to flirt with you. Unfortunately for him, your seat gave a perfect angle on Damian across the party floor. He was impressing the wives of Wayne business partners, who flocked around him like they’d flocked around you, pinching his cheeks. You could almost read their lips enough to guess what they were saying. What a handsome young man you are! Oh, Bruce must be so proud.

“...and then my father flipped over his kayak! Would you believe it? Two thousand dollars, thrown right in our family’s lake.” Your company snickered, howling at his own story.

You circled the rim of your glass, watching how Damian tried to teach some of the women phrases in Arabic. Unknown to them, they were some pretty funny swear words. It threw you into a bout of giggles, and the man next to you kept talking, spurred on by the noise.

The flock of hens around Damian receded, and his shoulders slouched in relief. That was cute, too. It wasn’t often that people understood how draining these parties were, but for people like you and Damian, it was a racetrack of endless, boring circles. Everything was a formality. Few things were genuine. Damian turned, and you caught his eye to let him know you were going to meet him. He nodded toward a side hall, his mouth a curious line again. If you looked at it long enough, it felt like a smile when he mouthed, escape?

Your company was still talking. He stopped when you grabbed his tie and planted a pity-kiss on his cheek, waving to him as you bounced away. “Sorry, kid. Not my type.”

_

You planned to bring Damian to the secluded balcony on the second floor to unwind, but instead, you were taken by the wrist and maneuvered into an empty powder room. It was colder than the steaming party air and smelled like champagne, with couches to sit on and mirrors to powder at. For a bathroom, the lights were warm and low. The noise of the party went quiet the instant the door was shut, like you and Damian had entered your own little world. No more circles. No more back and forth.

“Here,” Damian said, noting the mirrors. He tilted his head as he asked, like he was nervous, “Is this acceptable?”

“It is the ladies powder room, but I’ll give you a pass, since you’re cute.” You joked. Damian didn’t make a move to relax on one of the couches yet, hanging in front of you like there was more he wanted to say. There was more you wanted to say, too, but no good words came to mind.

But the silence wasn’t awkward. Again, Damian stared, and you stared. The glass he brought with him was set down. He put one fist on the counter beside the door, and like honey had been poured on your nerves, you realized how easy it would be for him to push you up against it. Kiss you senseless. Heat drooled off of him this close, and you wondered if he’d still lean in to whisper to you even if you were alone.

The lack of words drew to a point where something had to be said, anything, but his eyes felt so good on your skin and it was interesting to see him nervous. Something strange told you that Damian liked the silence, too.

You wet your lips with your tongue. Damian cleared his throat, and took a sip from his glass. “Was I interrupting something?”

“Between me and that guy?” You smiled gently, like you were reassuring him, and laughed to yourself. “Oh, man, you should’ve seen it, Damian. Poor kid really thought I was flirting with him. He’d totally convinced himself, it was hilarious.”

His profile was tense in the mirror, which you stole glances at to watch how the amber light played on his handsome skin. When Damian swallowed his drink, his throat rolled in the sexiest way, and immediately your mind fed you with visions of suckling, kissing, tonguing his neck.

“Why’d you ask?” Your eyes sparkled. Damian drew a step closer, and you used the opportunity to swipe a drop of alcohol from the corner of his lip with your thumb. “You jealous?”

It was the touch or the suggestion that made Damian pause. He didn’t stutter, but lagged over what to say, eyes vast and wanting as they raked over your face. “I don’t get jealous,” he clarified, “but… I do intend to be the only man to kiss you tonight.”

Damian’s hand took your chin. Your belly exploded with instant arousal, hitting you like a bullet of liquid lust. “You’re the only man who’s kissed me like that,” you whispered, taking his tie in hand. “I hope that’s always true.”

His voice had gone throaty. “May I kiss you again?”

Again, he reminded you.The two of you had kissed before, and it had been spectacular, terrifying, and excellent.

“Please,” you said, and Damian rushed to your aid.

Not a moment more was wasted. Curling his tie into your fist, you drew him in, slow and deep and wonderfully. Damian’s cologne hit you before his lips did, and both made your core throb for friction. Two broad hands slammed your hips into the door. His fingertips smoothed up the fabric of your dress, pressing you back and squeezing you in until you could feel his belt buckle against your belly. Damian was a sweet, magnetic kisser, chasing your lips like he was on a crusade to save them. Each time they met, he swam deeper. The point of his nose bumped against your cheek. You hummed your laugh against his lips, and Damian groaned as he pulled away, readjusting, twisting, testing the limits of the kiss. And you followed him at every step or more, revelling in his taste.

You didn’t want him to think you wanted the kiss to end, so you drew the hands braced under his blazer around his neck. Soon, that didn’t feel close enough, so you cupped each side of his face and pecked Damian until you were breathless. He brought you in until your arms were flat to his chest, the kiss almost vertical in its intensity.

He groaned when you parted, gasping and blinking just inches from your face. Your mouths were still connected by a thick string of drool, which hung until it split and clung to Damian’s chin and fell, marking a wet strip down into his collar. You panted, watching it go.

Damian left your waist to hold your wrists, keeping your hands around his face. He settled warmly into your touch, basking in it, and the pure enjoyment on his face made you smile. You wondered if anyone else had cared for him like this. If Damian had ever felt someone hold his face and treasure it. The thought gave you a strange urge, so you followed it.

You brought Damian’s brow level with your mouth and sweetly kissed his forehead. Then his nose bridge, then his temples. His face was so quickly warm that you giggled. In the most unsubtle way possible, Damian drew back his hips so you couldn’t feel the heat there, and closed his eyes, begging you to continue.

“I want you,” you whispered against his jaw.

Damian shivered. “You have me.”

You shifted one hand to his shoulder, giving yourself more room to nuzzle and kiss his neck. The line of drool was still there, so you cupped his skin and tilted his jaw up, and in one stroke, licked all the way to his earlobe. Damian’s moan poured from his mouth like a growing flood. You even felt his thighs press together between you, and pleasure tingled in your throat when he choked at the glide of your tongue.

He released your wrists, reached beside you, and locked the door with an audible click.

Then, Damian devoured you. Both hands hooked around your back, arching your chest into his, and finally, bringing his bulge between your hips. You clung to him for dear life, helpless as his teeth pressed into your neck like a vampire. Damian fed like one, too, suckling the skin there like he was starved. Your panties were so wet that you were desperate to get out of them, grinding your core against his.

Damian retreated, gasping. He licked the spit off of his lips and glared into your eyes. Bluntly, he said, “I want to eat you out.”

Once more, you kissed him, delirious with excitement. Your lungs burned for air, but your core burned harder for him. “Take off that suit and you can do whatever you want to me.”

His eyes gleamed. “I plan to.”

Quickly, you shoved your hands into his sleeves and pushed them off his shoulders, giving you a crisp glimpse at his carved shoulders. Damian's fingers blurred from button to button, but he saved the last for you on purpose. You worked in tandem and with little thought. If he could, Damian would steal a kiss, and you would bite his lip and chase him into more. When that last button was popped, his white button-down parted for a gorgeous plane of hard-earned muscle. His abs, ribs and pecs were pockmarked with scars, shrapnel marks and in some places, bullet holes. You stopped.

At your staring, Damian pressed his lips together.

“It's.. not appealing, I know,” he monotoned.

“No,” you disagreed, palming his stomach, “it’s impressive. All these do is show how strong you are, how long you've survived. You're so… built...” you didn't hide your thorough examination of him, “...I mean, we have to be to do what we do, but still… It suits you. It's sexy.”

You worried you'd ruined the moment with your babbling, but he glimmered under your praise. Damian brightened in the way only Damian could, smirking devilishly and towering over you like a supervillain.

“Sexy?” He pressed his naked chest into yours, whispering hotly in your ear. You could feel his silk tie pinned between you. “Does that mean I'm your type?”

You rolled your eyes. “Eavesdropper.”

“Temptress,” Damian replied, just as easily.

To claim your title, you found Damian's belt and pulled on it until the clasp gave. It made a satisfying whipping noise as you ripped it off of him, shouldered into his space to grab his waist in one hand, and cupped his throbbing boxers in the other. Damian's sigh came hoarsely and wanton from his mouth.

“Fuck me,” you demanded, grinning with delight.

Instead of wasting time on a response, Damian fell to his knees, a faithful worshipper. He did the gentlemanly thing and helped you kick off your heels. The tile was icy on your bare feet, but it only mattered until Damian ran his hands up your thighs. Sliding his fingers underneath the fabric, he bunched it up your middle, peering up at you smugly through his lashes. You could feel the debauchery of it - Damian, on his knees, tie hanging still from his neck, pinning you to the door. You, your legs spread and wanting.

Damian sucked in a breath. Your panties had an obvious wet patch, put there by him. He thumbed it carefully, watching your brows tense and your eyes close, basking in your initial whine. All of it enchanted him. You were soaking because of him, trembling because of him, marked because of him. There was not one place he would rather be than here.

Damian collected your sweetness and sampled the taste on his thumb, trapping it behind his smug smile. He ran his tongue over his teeth, spreading the flavor around his mouth, savoring it. As Damian rolled your underwear down your legs, his cock twitched in his open fly. You were beautiful. Oh, he was going to enjoy this.

“Put your leg over my shoulder,” Damian ordered, smirking, “I want to taste you.”

Warmth exploded in your cheeks. “G-go ahead.”

Gradually, you situated your leg across his back, pussy tensing at the touch of the cooler air. This didn't matter for long. Damian's warm lips nuzzled and kissed the thigh closest to him, painting messy reflective circles on your skin with his kiss. Even that made your legs tense wildly, so Damian shoving his wet, blazing tongue into the folds of you cunt pumped moan after moan from your mouth.

“Damian!” You yelped.

Oh, he definitely liked that. Damian pinched your ass and used his mouth so passionately that his head shook back and forth. He darted right for your clit, sucking it until his cheeks were hollow and humming smugly between your legs with every squeal. Parting your folds with one hand, Damian kissed your core just as dirtily as he'd kissed you. The dangerous glint in his eye never faded. He plunges his tongue inside you in earnest, slurping obscenely, purposefully. There's no need for Damian to shoot you cute looks or put on a show - his skill was the performance, because that skill was unbeatable. Your pussy was already tender, fucked nerveless by Damian's filthy mouth. He vibrated your cunt with a deep groan before he drew away, face dripping with slick like a pornstar’s.

“You're suitably wet,” he said, matter-of-factly, “would you like me to use my fingers?”

All the strength you had went into a weak, pleading nod.

Damian was polite enough to grant you your bearings first, letting you grip his hair and squeeze the counter before he resumes. You give him the sweetest, most precious whine when Damian licks you open again. He wisely starts with one finger and builds from there, earning you with pumps and curls of his digits. Damian's talents quickly become a currency, one that you exchange with mewls and pants of praise.

“So good,” you whine, “oh, fuck - fuck, just like that…”

Damian smirks between your legs, jamming his fingers faster into your sore pussy. Lust sizzles low in your gut, ramped up again and again by his thrusting. It’s so powerful that you roll and buck off the door, your hips in his face. You want him - want him more than you want anything.

“You're ravaging,” Damian hums between licks. His eyes are closed, but that only gives the way he touches you more meaning.

It’s so surprising from his mouth that your hold on his hair slips, setting Damian free. He pants, catching his breath, and it’s easily the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen in your life. The effort has slouched him from his knees to his calves, further spreading his legs and opening up the fly of his pants. A solid bulge has formed and spilled out there, straining to escape his briefs like an arm in a sling that’s too small, way too small, for someone of his size. Three of Damian’s fingers are still twisting inside of you.

Slowly, Damian tipped back his head and hung down, arranging himself beneath your cunt. “So beautiful.” His free hand splayed where your leg met your hip. “May I touch you?”

“I-I get it’s the gentleman thing to do, to - to keep asking, but fuck, Damian,” you cursed, “you can do whatever you want to me.”

Damian’s intense jade eyes were so dilated that you could barely make out the color. He dragged his cheek against your thigh, fingers still circling inside you, and grinned like a shark. It was probably a bad idea to give the heir to the Demon’s Head that much power over you.

His other hand squeezed your skin, slow to passionate, from your belly to your breasts beneath your dress. It’s clear by the way Damian looks at you that he loves what he sees. The texture of his veiny, calloused hands feels good on your waist and ass, dragging you closer to him. He chuckles when your back arches, when your nails press into his hands, his back muscles, throwing himself into his task. Damian’s nose prods your folds as he licks you clean, tongue dipping and sliding against your sore clit. It’s like he’s done this for you before, in this exact way. Though he utilizes his tongue the most, his lips too are brutal, matched perfectly to fit your pussy lips.

But that tongue - how Damian’s jaw isn’t tired, you don’t know. He parts your folds and latches onto your clit, flicking his tongue at superspeed until drool and cum bubbles from your sensitive core. Your back winds tighter at every vibrating lick, paralyzing the muscles in your legs with glorious pleasure. It’s so exquisite you start to melt to the floor like warm clay, only to be bolstered back up by Damian, both hands viciously squeezing your ass. He keeps going not for you, but himself, sucking down every last drop of your juices.

Shattered, you twist hopelessly into his mouth, chasing the strained feeling like it’s the last you’ll ever glimpse. “Fuck, fuck - D-Damian, ah…”

“Did it feel good when I made you cum?” He teases, “It certainly tastes good. All those filthy little noises you make for me…” Damian shakes his head at himself, like it’s too fantastic to indulge again. He leaves your clit with a satisfied kiss. “Beautiful.”

Once more, the words are surprising to hear from him. You always considered Damian the prude type, but here he is, on his knees for you, mouth and chin glittering with your juices while he teases you in low, sexy tones. At your surprised look, Damian has the gall to blush.

With his ring finger in his mouth, he ponders, “If a man has never said that to you before...” pop, “consider me surprised.”

“Never while finger-fucking me, at least,” you admited, legs still trembelling. “It was sweet. You… you meant that?”

It was hard to imagine Damian Wayne finding anything beautiful. Even you, who was pretty enamored with him, figured he would judge by quality or skill, not beauty. The words tasted new on his tongue.

Slowly, Damian stood and stretched, his shoulders tight after staying in the strange position for so long. Lifting his arms coincidentally let his waistband sit lower on his hips, flashing his green boxers your way while showing off the huge, carved muscles of his arms. Truly, Damian’s subtlety was unmatched. You didn’t mind his miniature bragging fest - not when he had so much to brag about. Eating you out had put an excited shimmer in his skin, so the gold-toned lights of the room reflected sexily off his sweat, already accenting his kissable tan.

“I did,” he told you, moving on to his sucking middle finger. His other hand played on your thigh, stroking it. “I’ve always been… drawn to you. Every mission we’ve had together. I have a profound feeling that we are very similar.”

You laughed. Not at what he said, but the timing of it. “Would you believe me if I said I felt the same way?”

Damian made a face like his heart was doing jumping jacks. “A few hours ago? No. But now…” he barricaded you against the door, first with his hands and then his hips, closed in so tightly that you had to look past your nose to meet his eyes. “Your crush is adorably obvious. I’m annoyed that I didn’t see it before.”

Your rounded your hands against Damian’s shoulders, then his tie. It twisted nicely around your fingers, silky and cold in comparison to your flushed skin. You were tempted to fix your dress, but nothing, not even the world ending, could make you leave this room.

“My crush is obvious? Damian, all you’ve done for the last two hours is sneak me drinks and imply how much easier it is to be around me.” You grinned, “What’d you say earlier? There you are, Queen. Finally, someone intelligent enough to speak to me.”

Damian shrugged. “It’s true. Your knowledge of bioluminescent ocean life is fascinating.”

“I can’t believe you said that after giving me head for ten minutes.”

“It’s actually been closer to twelve,” Damian smirked.

Playfully, you pinched Damian’s cheek, then pulled him by the tie into a starved, energetic kiss. He must’ve been praying for your permission to continue, because the plan he’d been forming is quickly put into action. You’re hugged, arms scooped under your back as you kiss him. Damian surrenders his mouth to a bit of revenge tonguing while undoing your dress. No amount of kissing will pull him from his task, but your hand is a special case - it smooths down the front of his boxers and Damian melts.

“Y/N,” he groans.

Damian petulantly resists the temptation to close his eyes, but your touch is soft and sweet, demanding him to yield. Your lips suckle on his neck and Damian’s knees buckle. If getting his mouth between your legs didn’t turn him on, then this will finish him for sure.

“I missed you. Kissing you.” You purr into his throat. “One could never be enough for me.”

Is this what it’s like to be wanted? Damian asked himself. The only possible answer thrilled him, and he found himself pouring even more passion into the kiss, into you, wanting to share that rush of affection. You respond to his every touch with vigor. Damian’s heart stalls each time your thumb strokes his face, each time the other strokes him through his slacks.

“Me either,” he rasped, and helped you out of your dress. His tone was shy, but his words held too much depth to be meaningless. I want a wealth of them. I always want to kiss you, was what he wanted to say, but Damian was too embarrassed to raise the words. This moment was too special to ruin with his hopeless romanticism. He kissed you again and again, and to his amazement, you kissed him right back.

“Fuck me,” you begged him between breaths. “Right here. I don’t care if we’re caught.”

I don’t care if we’re seen together. I want to be seen with you, I’m not ashamed of you.

Damian cupped your face and almost knocked you both over with the strength of his kiss. Nose-to-nose, eyes closed, he commanded, “Bend over the fucking counter.”

In a blink, Damian turned and there you were, open and waiting for him. The sink was hip-level, so the bend was nothing but perfect - Damian could fuck you from behind and watch your lust-blown reflection without issue. Your perfect pussy drooled leftover cum down your legs, making your sex shine in the light.

In the mirror, you watched Damian’s eyes darken in delight. His pupils followed the line of your ass to your back, appreciating it like an artist would, like he intended to paint you later and needed to memorize the greatest shapes of your figure. The marble was icy against your hard nipples, which Damian had exposed when he’d impatiently shoved down your bra. Now, he cupped one of your breasts as he bent over you, kissing and suckling his way down your back.

“Perfect,” Damian hissed.

Shyly pressing your butt back against him, you buried your face in your arms and bit your lip, waiting for him to open you up. Damian’s shadow came to hover over you, and in the mirror his eyes were vicious, pools of circling sharks. “Are you ready?”

“Mhm,” you nodded. “Take your time.”

Though you weren’t being sarcastic, Damian took it that way and pinched one cheek of your ass. “With you? I will.” Then, with the same smoothness, Damian asked, “Condom?”

“Pill,” you replied, and Damian nodded his approval.

His pants rustled as they fell down his legs. Where you couldn’t see, Damian committed the sight to memory - his cock in hand, your pussy spread open, all for him. You squeaked when his hot tip touched your cooling clit, and squeaked again when it glided down your pussy and tested your opening. He knew he’d found the way when you winced.

In an unsurprising moment of compassion (for those who truly knew him), Damian kissed the top of your head and offered you his hand. “Would you like to hold it while I…?”

You took his hand and squeezed it to your chest, squeezing him closer in the process, too. “Thank you. Go slow, for this part…”

Damian complied. His sweat-sticky chest hovered warmly over your back. Even if Damian was big, you were wetter than you’d ever been in your entire life - any pain would quickly slide into pleasure. He braced himself with a deep inhale, and a hot, sharp sensation told you that he’d entered you. Where you choked in a needy gasp, Damian poured out his version of a whimper. You both held it. Then, breath by breath, you were struck with the realization that you’d been dying to feel this for weeks, for months, and only now was that heat being satisfied. Damian’s tongue and fingers had come close, but this is what would cure that aching emptiness - his big, girthy cock.

The deathgrip you had on Damian’s hand loosened. “You look perfect,” he murmured into your hair, instantly making your core flutter. “Oh,” he chuckled filthily, “you like that? Funny, how badly that idiot at the bar wanted to be in my place right now…but it’s me who gets to pound into—”

“Damian,” you warned.

He smiled smugly against your neck. “Nothing.”

Dutifully, Damian withdrew his hips, taking all of the heat with him. When he rolled back in, a hot, tingling sensation roared over all of your senses, and you let the moan at the top of that tsunami loose. It was clear that he couldn’t fuck you like he wanted to with one hand fished down at your side, so he glued both to the base of your back and started to thrust in earnest.

“So full...” You mewled, and Damian became a human pile-driver.

Your head seemed to roll off your shoulders with every crazed, rhythmic slam, so you grabbed the faucet and held on for dear life. Every slap was so loud, so powerful, that you prayed this one random bathroom in the penthouse was soundproofed. Anyone walking past would know you were getting railed out of your mind. You tried to compensate by moaning and squeaking quietly, but with force came volume. It didn’t matter how silent you were, Damian’s hips, your ass, the squelch of him inside you - each noise filled the bathroom, echoing off the tile.

The only way you could think to describe him was filling. First, there was the hot, cinching tension of his hands fused to your waist. Then there was his cock, which begged to be squeezed more and more with every pass. You responded to each throb with a mighty clench, which bent Damian over you like an animal, gasping for breath. His balls were painted with your slick. The closer you came to orgasm together, the closer Damian came to you. His hands migrated to higher on your sides, then up by your shoulders, then around you, where Damian kissed your back and rubbed your belly while he made love to you. He talked more than he moaned. Your ear was filled with sweet nothings, with vicious promises of what he would do with a whole night alone with you.

Damian’s reflection was wild with lust. He met your eyes as he fucked you, whispering how beautiful you are, how good you take his dick. His deep green eyes were so dark you couldn’t make out the brown in them anymore. The long muscles on his arms drew taut with each thrust, making his biceps bulge and pin your hips to the sink. Soon enough, a bruise would form from the pressure. One of many treasures from tonight - you would be thinking about Damian in his crisp suit for months to come, and the mess he’d become with you now even longer. Your pleasure built and built and built, like a nail struck further into the ground with a hammer. A very, very big hammer.

“M’ cumming,” Damian husked, slowing his plowing to a sloppy glide. Even his endurance was spent, and you were glad he’d spent it all on you. “Where d’ you…?”

You braced your hands on the counter, then on one of Damian’s. Together, you smoothed his digits down your stomach and between your soft, abused folds. “Inside me, please, please please—” you begged him, “fuck, a-as deep as you can go.”

As a test of your flexibility, Damian turned in and kissed you. Just as he parted your lips with his tongue, he parted your folds with his fingertips, overriding your clit as his cock throbbed inside you to the hilt. He took the invitation as a command. Damian pressed in until you could feel his abs mold to your ass, then stuttered his hips in quick, agonized dips to get himself there. With his fingers and his cock putting stars in your eyes, you finished first.

The white marble counter fizzed in your vision, until all you could see was that powerful, endless white, humming in your mind’s eye. Still, Damian wasn’t finished yet. You bumped your temple against his chin and hummed, “Cum for me, baby… fuck, a-ah!”

Your pussy’s throb raced and raced until it spilled over, pulling Damian right under the current. One clench and he was done for, so the velvety, periodic squeeze of your cunt emptied his store. You hung there, spasming in unison, until that overwhelming heat spurted in a ring around Damian’s cock and flooded out of you. Only then did his fingers stop on your clit, and you settled warmly in each other's arms and tried to remember your names and who you were.

Damian pulled out, then snuggled back in. He would’ve been nervous any other time, but he’d just put his dick inside you, so a little instinctive cuddling could be forgiven. On shaky legs, you turned around and sunk into him. You could tell by how he was eyeing the sink that he was desperate to get clean again, so with one kiss (on the cheek), you set Damian loose.

In companionable silence, Damian cleaned up and you collected the clothes abandoned on the floor. Staring at the corner where you’d just had the best sex of your life put an embarassingly pleasant warmth in your chest. Interesting, how one terrifying moment could become something as special as this. Fascinating, how you’d felt like you’d known him all your life.

“You know… I think you’re excellent, too.” You told him, finishing off the knot for his tie.

Damian dipped his head to hide his smile, but something so bright was impossible to hide.

[incorrect-hololive]

Marine hcs??

AHOY! HoloFantasy as a whole give me such massive insane brainrot and Marine especially I love, so I actually have... a lot of them. This is a little longer than my other headcanon posts so I'll throw it under the cut below:

Backstory HCs:

Growing up on tales of pirate adventures, becoming one herself became Marine's lifelong dream, always dressing up and pretending to be a captain with glory and gold and girlfriends.

At the age of 17 - wearing nothing but a pirate costume - she started her sailing life by hopping onto a random ship and pretending to be the captain... despite knowing nothing about sailing. Let's just say she was booted super quickly.

Instead, she resorted to earning money and gathering a crew of her own by working at the same seaside tavern as Aqua, saving enough money for a ship and befriending a number of the tavern's daily seafaring visitors.

Eventually, she splurged all her (and the tavern's) money on a ship, promising to pay back the borrowed funds from "the treasure [she] will find."

Insert the events of the UMISEA here, because funny as it is, it's genuinely a decent adventure story that I do accept as Marine canon (and I do also have headcanon interpretations of the events of the series tucked away somewhere)

After parting ways with Gura and Ina after their adventures, Marine and Aqua sailed together for a while (Aqua mostly reluctantly going along because Marine HAD just put her out of a job by spending all their money on the first ship), but they made sure to pick up their ex-taverngoers this time, forming the first members of the Houshou Pirates; Aqua later said goodbye to the crew to go hang out with a certain kusogaki witch that they met on their adventures, having gotten out of her shell just a little bit thanks to Marine. The two still meet up every once in a while.

Marine went from completely clueless regarding sailing to becoming a competent captain, thanks to lots of trial and error, as well as support from her loyal crew, charmed by her humor and personality (as well as. well. y'know what Marine's like).

They eventually went on to establish themselves as pirates of great renown, ones to be either greatly respected or feared, depending on who you were.

Marine w/Holofantasy HCs:

Rushia was the first of the group Marine met. While Rushia was dismissive of Marine at first, wanting to be left alone in her domain and repeatedly threatening to kill Marine, she couldn't bring herself to do it, too enraptured by the pirate's flirting and how annoying she was and how she kept visiting her, until she gave in to Marine's insisting to go see the world with her. Totally not because she liked her or anything.

Marine's first encounter with Noel and Flare consisted of her flirting with Flare, Noel showing up to passive-aggressively say that Flare's "not interested" (read: already taken), and Marine immediately proceeding to flirt with Noel instead. She did offer to sail them to the place they wanted to go, though, so they did accept that offer; by the time the quest had ended, they'd become much closer. Marine still frequently tries to get in their pants, however. Not to anyone's surprise.

Pekora was the last of the team Marine met; her crew had stopped over at Pekoland to do trade, but when they sailed off, Marine found that the literal princess of Pekoland had stowed away because she was "bored." What started as Pekora using Marine and her crew as a means of carrying out her own "business opportunities" (and ironically acting more pirate than the actual pirates) eventually became a genuine friendship, though they definitely still frequently squabble and playfully fight.

The five frequently go on quests and adventures together, travelling the land and challenging great dangers, and often it does not go well, but ultimately works out in the end thanks to dumb luck or some miracle or one of them finally using the one braincell they share together.

Marine has actually died before. However, when Calli came to reap her soul, Rushia intervened. Calli was less annoyed by this (being acquainted with the necromancer despite her violation of natural death) and more skeptical because while Rushia was sorting it out, Marine's soul was busy thirsting over Calli's... assets.

(calli voice) "This one. Are you sure. Her????" (rushia voice) "yes I know please don't ask she's always like this"

In spite of Marine's constant flirting and bragging about sleeping around, she truly does love and care for her (girl)friends, and is surprisingly clingy when it comes to them.

Misc HCs:

The Houshou Pirates are a crew of song. One of the first things they'll ask you if you want to join is "what songs do you know." Shanties and sea ballads are common and encouraged, regardless of whether you're in tune or not.

Pretty much all the Houshou Pirates are on a super similar wavelength. Marine could go "ayo there's some hot sirens over there let's GET IT LADIES" and more than half will agree without question, partially out of loyalty but also because they agree. damn sirens hot. There are raging fruity pirates everywhere. They're competent when it counts, though, and care about Marine to a fault.

Marine flirts with her crew frequently, sometimes really popping off with how yabe she gets with them. Some of them become total messes, others go "haha that's funny Senchou" while some straight up turn the tables on her. However, they all know their boundaries because DAMN Marine is 100% in love with the rest of HoloFantasy and damn them if they get in the way of their captain's happiness.

Marine likes to tell tales about how she got her heterochromia, but her friends and longest crewmates all know that she was just born with it.

Marine does have low physical stamina, but she makes up for this by her unpredictable nature when she's in a situation that calls for action. She's slippery in combat (if not because she's stumbling around, Drunken Fist-style), and if she doesn't have a cutlass or flintlock pistol, she's using her sharp tongue. In spite of this, she still relegates menial labor tasks to her crew and friends.

Hmmmmm I think I like Marine a lot I dunno though

[gotham-academy-study-chat]

The Problem (And Safety) With Costumes

(Hi. I have not read all of Gotham Academy. I own nothing DC /Marvel owns. This idea came to me. Enjoy!)

Colton walked up to his friends, who were also already in their costume for the party.

He noticed Kyle wasn’t there. 

“What’s up---Maps, why are you dressed like a squirrel. 

“I’m Squirrel Girl!” Maps exclaimed. 

He looked at Olive. 

Olive shrugged. “Some comic thing.”

Pomeline smirked. “I see you took my advice.”

Colton looked down at his Kid Flash costume. 

He wanted to be The Flash, but Pomeline said he had to show his red hair for whatever reason. She said they were the same person (because he’s in the first Kid Flash costume) but come on!

“Hey.” He heard Kyle from behind him and smiled. “Awesome costumes.”

“Hey Kyle.” He turned around to thank him when the words died on his tongue. 

There was Kyle, his crush for forever, in a Nightwing costume.

“Cool...costume.” He offered, sounding as lame as he felt. 

“Thanks.” Kyle beamed at him. “It was Pomeline’s idea.”

“There were not a lot of dark haired superheroes.” She said it like she didn’t care but he didn’t miss the smirk in her voice. 

“Funny, there actually is. Not that Nightwing’s not great.” He assured. 

“Yeah. I’ll see you all in there.”

They watched him leave. 

“You are actually the worst person ever.” Colton muttered. 

“What’s the problem? Nightwing and Kid Flash are best friends.”

“You know everyone thinks they were in love at some point.”

Pomeline’s laugh echoed in the halls. 

Colton sat on a chair in the hall.

He doesn’t know why he was shocked. Kyle has always been popular and he looks awesome. Why wouldn’t girls look at him? 

“Hey. You okay?” Kyle asked, as he walked out.

“Yeah...no.”

“What’s up? Someone give you a hard time?”

“Yeah. You.”

Kyle raised an eyebrow behind the mask and Colton realized he said that out loud. 

“What did I do? You’ve been avoiding me.”

“There’s a reason.” Colton said then said nothing.

“You...don’t have to tell me but I’m here--”

“Kid Flash likes Nightwing.”

“Uh, yeah. They’re best friends.”

“No. He really likes Nightwing. He likes Nightwing the way that makes his heart stop and beat crazy at the same time. He likes Nightwing the way that makes him want to break all the rules to get his attention, but at the same time doesn’t want Nightwing to be stressed out. He likes Nightwing the way that makes him believe in a love that he thought he had given up on. He likes Nightwing the way that Nightwing doesn’t like him back.” Colton took a breath.

Kyle took a breath.

“I know. We can forget about it.” He started to get up. 

“Colton,” Kyle said and Colton paused and sat back down. 

Kyle looked to be searching for the right words. 

“Nightwing likes Kid Flash back. He likes Kid Flash the way that makes him feel in the best way--that scares him but he wouldn’t trade it. He likes Kid Flash the way he always heard about but better. He likes Kid Flash in a way that feels like his heart is on fire in the best way. He absolutely likes Kid Flash back.”

“Can... Kid---Can I hold your hand.”

Kyle smiled and offered his hand.

Their hands fit well. 

----

Hope you enjoyed!

[sochilll]

October 27 - Trick-or-Treating

Day 26 Day 28 All Days (Prompt list)

“Come ooooon.” Jared whined from the couch. “If we don’t leave soon all the good houses are gonna be out.”

“Mom.” Evan looked at his mother pleadingly.

“Alright alright.” She finally put her camera away. “Let’s go.”

Jared lept off the couch and ran for the door. Their moms alternated who took them trick-or-treating each Halloween. This year it was Evan’s mom so he was the one arguing that she’d taken enough pictures.

“We have to go to the houses with the big candy bars.” Jared said, swinging his bucket.

“Mom, where are the houses with the big candy?” Evan asked.

“Let’s get through our own neighborhood before we start scouting others.” His mom said, guiding them down the street.

Halloween was always fun. Although, Evan did prefer when his costume had a mask to hide behind. His least favorite part was having to stand there and smile while strangers gushed over how cute he and Jared were.

“I think this house has good candy.” Jared said, adjusting his wings.

This year they were Buzz and Woody. Jared’s mom had spent hours sewing their costumes so they had to buy as little as possible. Evan thought his was pretty good. He had a hat and a cow print vest and everything. Jared’s was pretty cool too, it even had all the buttons and lights. But his cardboard wings were a little uneven and kept tilting to the left.

They walked down another driveway, weighing their candy stashed against each other’s buckets.

Evan looked up at the next house. “Maybe we should skip this one.”

The porch was covered in black tarps. There was a strobe light inside and several looming figures and Evan couldn’t guess if they were real or not.

Jared’s eyes were glued to the kids coming out, holding full size candy bars. He grabbed Evan’s arm. “Evan we have to. Look! We have to!”

“You go.” Evan shook his head. “I’ll wait here.”

“No come on!” Jared begged. “I’ll make sure you don’t get scared.“

Evan hesitated.

“I won’t let anyone jump at you.” Jared said seriously. “I swear.”

“Okay.” Evan mumbled.

Jared grabbed his hand, gripping tightly, and pulled him inside.

It wasn’t as bad as he thought. Someone did jump out but Jared stood in front of him so it wasn’t so bad. And they left with their biggest candy bars of the night.

“Hey.” Jared whispered as they walked to the next house. “My mom said you can sleep over tonight if you mom lets you.”

Evan nodded. He knew his mom would let him. She always did. He asked her anyway and she said of course and ruffled his hair.

By the time they got to Jared’s house their arms were aching from lugging their candy buckets around. They sat on the floor in Jared’s room and dumped their candy out.

Candy trading was serious business. Jared was trying to haggle Evan into trading him two packs of M&Ms for one jawbreaker. Evan would not be swayed.

“What are we gonna be next year?” Evan asked, accepting Jared’s new trade offer that included a Reese’s cup.

“I don’t know.” Jared poured the entire bag of M&Ms into his mouth. “Maybe something creepy and dead. Like zombies.”

Evan nodded. He wondered if they’d ever run out of costumes. It seemed like at a certain point, they would have done every costume.

“I can’t wait till we can go by ourselves.” Jared said, frowning at a pack of Dots. “And then when we’re in high school we can go to Halloween parties.”

“You want to go to parties instead of trick-or-treating.”

Jared tilted his head. “I’m pretty sure you’re now allowed to trick-or-treat when you’re in high school.”

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. Probably the people giving out candy.” Jared shrugged, doubling down. “But I know it’s a rule.”

Evan didn’t think that was true but he wasn’t in the habit of arguing with Jared. Usually, Jared would either keep arguing until Evan couldn’t keep up, or he’d end up being right and then he’d never let Evan forget it.

“Well, will we still dress up for the parties?” Evan asked, still worried about their dwindling costume options.

“Obviously.” Jared said. “We have to be something cooler every year forever.”

Evan laid on his back on the carpet. That was a lofty goal. But he thought they could pull it off. If anyone was going to make a cooler costume every year forever, it’d have to be two best friends. And Jared was the best friend Evan could think of.

[officialleehadan]

Diva Distraction

HGE – Blackbird

+++

It took longer than Maggie liked, and more of the nasty, snide comments than she was ever comfortable with, but she finally managed to get away from the odious Countess Shavina. By the time she managed to leave Shavina with a handful of other politicians’ wives, Marcus and Ikaroa were long gone. Maggie allowed herself a triumphant smile and headed back towards the last place she had seen Zaaba.

It might have been difficult; Tessarina’s parties often had a thousand people in attendance or more, but Maggie had left a tiny spark of magic in the golden jewelry Zaaba wore, and simply followed her own spark back towards her captain. When she arrived, she discovered Zaaba in a cluster with a handful of other party-goers, arguing cheerfully about trade-routes.

“I’m telling you, if you sling around Betelgeuse, you can cut most of a solar week off the jump to Antares,” Zaaba was saying as Maggie reached her side. Once she had eased through the group, she boldly draped herself over Zaaba, who wrapped an arm around her waist in welcome “Oh, hello sweetness. I wondered when you’d be back.”

Good. She was comfortable in her role now, and remembered not to use Maggie’s name in front of anyone who didn’t already know it. More importantly, she seemed like she was in a good mood. The deal with their contact must have gone well.

“I wanted to dance,” Maggie pouted dramatically and popped her hip out. Yes, the ice-lace sleeves of her dress were a little modest for one of the courtesans, but her behavior would make up to it. Besides, it wasn’t unusual for some of the higher-priced arm-candy to hide away the most tempting of their goods. The benefits of being exclusive. Zaaba must have noted her costume change, but she didn’t comment. “You promised me some fun.”

“I was having plenty of fun myself,” Zaaba snorted, entirely amused at her antics. “I was talking shipping lanes with these fine gents. They might have a job or two I can advise on.”

Better and better. Zaaba had managed to find a group of nobility and rich businessmen who were always looking for a way to keep their money off the books. Zaaba must have proven herself already by knowing her way around a starship. Now they were interested in continuing the partnership. It was a start, that would lead to a great deal more if Maggie had anything to do with it.

“A pleasure, I’m sure,” Maggie purred to their onlookers, and stretched ostentatiously to make the most of her close-fitting gown, before she offered them an inappropriately-deep curtsy. It was a common trick among the court climbers and courtesans to flatter those with more money or rank than themselves. It also gave them a good look at her jewelry, which was very expensive, and to take note of her accent, which was pure Upper Class Core. “Will you hate me terribly if I steal my darling here away? She’s left me languishing without her company all night.”

“Bad form, Captain,” one of the men around them said. Maggie eyed him. She didn’t know him on sight, but that just meant he wasn’t higher nobility, or someone she was specifically looking out for. She did know the man beside him, and his presence made the situation much more interesting. “Don’t worry Miss. We won’t keep her attention much longer.”

“I’m sure not,” Maggie said graciously, and presented her gloved hand to him. He kissed it, marking him as distinctly not nobility, and she beamed at him, just barely visible under her veil. She aimed herself at the second man. This would take a little more caution. He was Imperial Intelligence, and she didn’t want to out him if he was undercover. Her veil would certainly hide her own identity, but there were ways around that. “My friend, I’m certain we’ve met. Do refresh my memory?”

“Where are my manners?” he replied and bowed over her hand, but didn’t kiss it. His current character must be nobility. “I am Riklyn Talfys, Knight of Carrier India.”

“Sir Talfys, of course. I should have remembered,” Maggie said smoothly. Knights were all invited to the bigger functions on their Carriers, and there were often close to ten thousand people at those occasions. Including, as it happened, Maggie herself. More importantly, it was an opportunity to tell him who she was, and not to out her. It wouldn’t take him long to figure her out if she wasn’t careful. Better to just tell him. “I saw the Sign and Order at the last Year-End ball on Pacifica. It was most impressive.”

The Sign and Order was a demonstration put on by the Empire’s Knights. Every Carrier had them of course, but it wasn’t considered a notably interesting event of the occasion. The phrase Sign and Order, however, was an Intelligence pass-phrase, keyed by the use of Carrier Pacifica’s name. More importantly, it was a pass-phrase that was for Maggie’s use only, and assured the recipient that she was in no danger. Sir Talfys was too well-trained to show any sign of surprise, but he wouldn’t miss it.

“The Sign and Order of Pacifica is very impressive, or so I’m told,” he replied with the appropriate pass-phrase, acknowledging her message. He would of course pass along that she had checked in, and where, but when he did, he would find that she was exactly where she told Luka she would be. “Do let me know if I might be of any service.”

“I would not hesitate,” Maggie said, and looped her arm through Zaaba’s, who was looking somewhat confused by the interchange. “Do pass my greetings along, won’t you? Now I hope you will excuse us. There are so many people here, and I promised to speak to them all.”

They made the appropriate gracious noises, and Maggie pulled Zaaba away from the group with as much haste as she dared. She might not be worried about Talfys outing her, but the fact that he was in the group meant that he was watching someone. At best, her involvement would make his life more complicated. At worst, she would endanger herself and his mission.

“That was abrupt,” Zaaba commented when they were free and ambling towards the door. “What’s the hurry?”

“One of those men is an associate of a friend I would rather not name,” Maggie explained, careful to keep any suggestion of Talfys’ actual occupation out of her words. “A friend who deals in a sort of business we don’t want to be involved in.”

“That bad?”

“Not bad. just complicated. He won’t bother us but- Ah, Tessarina darling, I was trying to catch you!” Maggie cut herself off and transitioned to bright, overly-loud excitement as they very nearly crashed right into the hostess of the party. She had very much hoped to avoid Tessarina, but she had to admit, there was no better cover in the room. Tessarina’s attention would blot out everything memorable about them. “You look just divine, and what a magnificent party! A triumph of hospitality, and you attention to detail is unmatched!”

“Darling, I so hoped I would see you here!” Tessarina crowed, entirely willing to lie through her teeth rather than admit that she had no idea who Maggie was. She was gowned in a blinding dress encrusted with what were undoubtedly real diamonds that made a white-to-red gradient down her body. Her hair was full of more, and a train of glittering mist, magical in nature no doubt, swirled down off her back in a diamond cascade. It was a beautiful dress, certainly, but Maggie couldn’t help but sniff, just a little. It was gaudy. “Wherever have you been hiding?”

“Of you know me and my distractions,” Maggie said joyously and snapped her fan out, sending silver glitter in every direction. It caught in the hems of her dress and sent a constellation of frost-flowers up her skirt. Zaaba looked both impressed, and somewhat taken-aback by the display, and also eyed her own coat with a certain amount of alarm. “Thank you so much for your lovely invitation. It truly is most spectacular. Why, you simply must plan my next little gathering.”

“Tell me when and where, and I will make sure everyone who’s anyone attends,” Tessarina promised exuberantly, still a little confused around the eyes. Good. She hadn’t recognized Maggie. It was for the best, since Maggie intended to never see Tessarina again if she could help it. “Now, you simply must forgive me. There are so many people to see.”

“Of course, of course,” Maggie assured her. They traded air kisses to either cheek, and then Tessarina was gone, accompanied by her usual posse of suck-ups and hangers-on. Maggie waited until she was gone to breathe a sigh of relief. Zaaba was staring at her. “What?”

“You’re a little scary, aren’t you?” Zaaba said, and let Maggie usher her towards the exit, and their escape to the Blackbird that was waiting for them in port. “Mission accomplished?”

“Mission accomplished, and Ikaroa settled in case you were worried,” Maggie told her cheerfully as they collected their coats from the coat-check by the door. “Let’s get out of here and have a properly fun sort of party back on the ship.”

+++ HGE - Blackbird:

Crown Princess Lucia Therese Magdalene has taken to the sky like her brother, Luka, before her. With her name and her crown set aside, Maggie Gol will take the Human Galactic Empire by storm.

Hot Pepper Blackbird

Fixing What’s Broke

Smuggler’s Den

Penny Zap (Subscriber Only!)

Down the Delve (Subscriber Only!)

Whisper Comment (Free on Patreon!)  

Profanity Biscuits  (Free on Patreon!)

Real Lady ( Subscriber Only!)

Customs Check

Wine and Whispers (Subscriber Only!)

Special Delivery (Subscriber Only!)

Society Talk (Subscriber Only!)

Ostentatious Wealth

Dance Trouble

Noble Lies

+++

More Stories!

+++

[nightlychaotic]

Fashion Faux Pas

Marinette froze, hand wrapping around the necklace she’d come for, her ears resting in her hair twitching at the soft sounds of footsteps as a voice spoke up from behind her.

“I like your costume, you look very cute.”

“Are you making fun of me?” she asked, tilting her head to the side as she turned around to face the newcomer.

“No. Never. It’s very flattering on you. The tight catsuit complete with cat ears isn’t really the most original. Bit of a copycat though.” he said. She bristled at that.

“Oh? Like yours is so much better? I am aware of the earlier variations of your suit, Nightwing. And the Discowing costume was...something else. Truly an affront to fashion.”

“I’ll have you know I designed it myself.”

“Mon dieu, never pursue a career in fashion then. You may be worse than Hawkmoth.”

“You’re from Paris?”

“Did my accent not give it away? I thought you bats were supposed to keep tabs on everything. Surely if that was the case you’d have seen me before,” she said, slipping the necklace into a pocket and lightly grabbing her baton, twirling it by her side as he stared at her.

“Lady Noire? I thought you were a hero.”

“Who says I’m not?”

“The fact that your stealing at the moment would argue that you aren’t.”

She shrugged, moving around the edge of the store trying to keep some distance between her and Nightwing while moving towards the door. “To each their own I suppose,” she said, before extending her baton, hitting him square in the chest and pushing him back into a display case, vaulting over one herself, pushing open the door with a small quick bow to him. “Fun as this has been, gotta run, Toucan,” she said with a small laugh, before disappearing into the rooftops. Running a bit of a roundabout path to make sure she wasn’t being followed as she made her escape.

------------------------

“Oh look. It’s the walking fashion crime. How goes the crime fighting tonight, Toucan?” Lady Noire asked, perching on the roof's antenna above him.

“Quiet until yet another thieving kitten showed up.”

“I’ll have you know, that whoever this other cat you are talking about, they couldn’t hold a candle to me.”

“And what makes you so sure?”

She laughed, pushing off her perch and flipping in the air, landing effortlessly on the roof. Not even a small stumble. “I have a few tricks up my sleeves, that I know they don’t have.”

Nightwing raised a brow. “I know one of them. Care to share the rest?”

She shook her head. “No, not really. Can’t let too much get away from me now can I?”

“So what did you steal tonight?”

“Nothing yet, but I’m getting the feeling not much is going to happen tonight. You aren’t going to let me go that easily are you?”

“Nope not at all.”

“I’d be disappointed in Gotham’s vigilante’s if you did,” she said. “So will I have to go around you or through you?”

“Around would just let you go.”

“Through it is,” she said, twirling her baton around as Nightwing grabbed his escrima sticks, barely having enough time to block as she swung her baton- staff?- down at him. He pushed her back, trading blows back and forth. Nightwing aimed a kick at her head,she grabbed his ankle and pushed, flipping him back, he placed his hands down, springing off of them into a back handspring to recover.

Lady Noire grinned, tilting her head to the side. “Interesting. Seems there is something redeemable here after all.”

“What? My good looks don’t make up for my fashion faux pas in your eyes?”

“I don’t know. I haven't managed to tear my eyes away from the eyesore you call a suit.”

“You wound me,” he replied, blocking another one of her attacks as she pushed down, her foot hooking around his ankle and pulling it out from underneath him as she leant forward, knocking him onto his back, and pinning him to the ground, tucking a card in one of his suit’s pockets.

“I wouldn’t typically make this offer, but if you ever decide you want a better looking suit, give me a call. Who knows. Maybe I’ll do it free of charge, if only to get rid of your terrible designs.”

“I don’t know if I should be flattered or insulted.”

She winked, hopping up off him to balance on top of her baton as she extended it. “That’s up to you, Toucan,” she said, grinning. “Oh, and to answer your earlier question. Your looks do pardon a bit of your crimes against fashion. You can use that number for more than a new suit if you so desire,” she told him with a wink, before disappearing over the rooftops.

[invisibleraven]

Phantom Carols

For the @jatp-adventevent prompt: Ice Skating

Day Twenty Four: I Would Teach My Feet To Fly <-AO3!

Reggie is lounging on the couch, a mindless Rankin Bass claymation special playing on the television when Flynn comes barging in. “Hey bun-bun, how’s tricks?”

“Are you busy?” she asks without answering.

Reggie waves at the TV and emptied bowl of popcorn at his side. “Crazy busy.”

“Good. Put on actual pants, we’re going out.”

Reggie groans but gets off the couch, trading his sweats for some not ripped jeans, a fresh flannel and runs a comb through his hair. “Where we goin’?”

“I have tickets to see my favourite pair of ice dancers. Was gonna take Kayla, but she has pneumonia.”

“Gross.”

Flynn shrugs. “It’s what happens when you work with kids. Anyways, she’s sick, you’re free, Merry Christmas.”

“Taylor you had better not be using this as my gift,” Reggie replied. Flynn simply looped their arms, pulling him towards the ice rink a few blocks over. The place was packed. “Geez, who are these dancers?” he asked, taking in the giant crowd.

“You ever hear of Molina and Wilson?” Flynn asks.

“You mean the pretty queer girls who fought to do same sex pairs competitions at the Olympics? Fuck yeah I have! Is that who we’re going to see?” Reggie asks, and Flynn nods. “Didn’t they place third in the whole world?”

“Second.” Flynn replies, and Reggie lets out a low whistle, finding their seats.

The show started soon after, and it was phenomenal. The girls skated together with grace and finesse. They did a few simple lifts, but it was their jumps, twirls, and coordinated spins that had Reggie riveted. The lights of the rink made them sparkle, catching on the sequins of their costumes, and if someone were to ask him how he felt right now, Reggie would have to reply that he was enraptured.

He leapt to his feet at the end, applauding so hard his palms hurt, but those girls deserved it, just for the mastery over the form they had shown. They shuffled out, but then Flynn saw that there would be an autograph signing, and dragged Reggie towards that.

Though he honestly would have gone willingly. Maybe because of the rabbiting of his heart when the screens had shown close ups of the skaters, maybe because of how their performance made him feel. He's not sure, but he dutifully follows Flynn.

The line was long and winding, but it moved rather quickly, and soon enough Flynn was at the front, Reggie right behind her. They paid for the glossy photos the skaters had on hand, clutching them to themselves, and Reggie let Flynn go first, lest he gush all over these athletes. Then he was ushered forward.

Julie Molina and Carrie Wilson offered him sweet, genuine smiles. Reggie tries to ignore the swarm of butterflies that sets off in his stomach. “Hi,” Julie said. “Who should we say it’s for?”

“Reggie. You two… you were beautiful. Definitely gained a new fan.”

“You came without knowing us?” Carrie asked.

“Yeah, my friend Flynn brought me, and you two immediately captured me. It was like.. Poetry in motion or something. Way better than I could do,” Reggie said with a small chuckle.

“You don’t skate?” Julie asked.

“Nah,” Reggie said with a shake of his head. “I just wobble and then fall on my dignity, so I gave up trying.” He rubs the back of his neck. "Maybe if I had teachers as gorgeous and talented and sweet as you, I might have made more of an effort. Now I think I'm best off leaving it to the pros, because... wow you two are just.. amazing."

The girls exchanged a glance, and then an assistant came over, probably urging them to move it along. Carrie signed the photo, then passed it to Julie who did the same, then flipped it over to add another note. “Well, thank you for coming out Reggie. Hope we get to see you again soon,” she said with a wink.

Reggie thanked them and moved off towards Flynn, and it wasn’t until they were a block away that he flipped the paper over.

You ever want a skating lesson, give us a call

Beneath that there were a series of digits, and a small X and O.

“D-did you seriously get the number of not one, but two Olympians?” Flynn asked.

“I… I think I did?”

“If you score then I am totally calling this as your present then,” Flynn replied. “Are you gonna call?”

“D’uh. Even if it’s a prank, I’ve gotta try. Worst case scenario, I get a few free skating lessons from silver medalist. Best case...” Reggie and Flynn shared a grin. “But I’m not calling them in front of you, so you can forget it.”

A few days later, Flynn got a text from Reggie.

Reggie: Thanks for the gift

Below it was a picture of him, cuddled into Julie and Carrie as they stood at centre ice, two distinct lipstick kisses on his cheeks.

Flynn: I expect something equally fabulous in return.

And it's not two talented, famous, beautiful girlfriends, but Flynn does willingly accept the day long spa visit he gifts her all the same. Plus she forever gets bragging rights, and when the three of them have a commitment ceremony some years later, Flynn makes sure to mention it in her Best Woman speech.

[unmaskedagain]

Not Waiting forever

I’m pretty sure this has been done like a million times already. But I decided I’m going to try to answer as many prompts, that are already in my asks, as I can before I burn out. I AM NOT CURRENTLY TAKING PROMPTS.

THESE will not be full-fledged fics but more than likely ONE-SHOT drabbles. I need to push through my writer’s block. This is disregarding Miracle Queen.

 …It wasn’t Marinette’s choice.

Ladybug, the new guardian after Fu’s tragic heart attack, had gave her opinion but that was it. Kwami were stubborn. No matter what Marinette said in defense of Alya and Nino, Trixx and Wayzz. None of the Kwami were willing to be given out to anyone they didn’t give express approval of anymore. It wasn’t a risk they could take. And now that Marinette was the Guardian on top of being a full time hero, they couldn’t allow just anyone to watch her back. They all decided that Marinette needed someone she could trust and who trusted her. And just as importantly, they needed wielders who better fit them.

Alya failed to see through Lila Rossi. She fell too easily for lies to be a master of illusion. Instead of searching for the truth, gathering evidence, she rather just believe what she’s told. She demanded proof from Marinette rather than believing her friend over someone she just met. She was stubborn and once Alya’s mind was set on something, there was no stopping her.

Trixx refused to go back to her. The kwami wanted someone more creative and free thinking. Maybe a different type of writer, she said. A clever story teller.

Nino failed to stand by his friend when she needed him the most. His lack of loyalty to one of his oldest childhood friends had left a bad taste in Wayzz’s mouth. He chose Alya’s side, and thus Lila’s, without even bothering to hear what Marinette had to say. Or even demanding that they at least take her view into consideration.

If Nino couldn’t stand by his dear friend over a minor issue, the Kwami couldn’t trust he’d guard Ladybug’s back, who a technically stranger to him. Wayzz refused to allow Nino to be his holder again.

           Marinette had gotten more than a bit defensive because despite everything that was going on in class, she still believed Alya and Nino would come around. She believed that the two, and everyone else in class, would realize Lila was lying.  It was just a matter of time.

“That’s the issue, Mistress,” Wayzz frowned at her. “You shouldn’t have to wait for them to have your back.” He told her.

           Trixx nodded, “Alya could’ve easily looked up any of Lila’s claims when you told her Lila was lying. But she didn’t because she didn’t want to. Lila’s tales about Ladybug are a hit on her blog. Alya would rather cling to fool’s gold because its shiny than do what she knows is right.”

           Marinette crossed her arms, “Alya can just get a little… excited. You know how much the Ladyblog means to her!”

“Yes. We do,” Trixx nodded. “What we don’t know is how much you do. From what we can tell… not that much. Alya would rather think you’re jealous,” Trixx added, “And that you’re the problem than consider that her and the entire class got duped. It’s not fair.”

“Your friends routinely ditch you,” Wayzz reminded her. “Ignore you in class, believe the worst about you. They have all but severed their friendship with you completely. This has been going on for months. This is not something that can just be blamed on Lila’s falsehoods. It was their own choices that led to this. We do not trust them.

“I trust them?” Marinette offered weakly.

           Trixx and Wayzz shared a look before shaking their heads.

“No,” Wayzz said. “You want to trust them.”

“There’s a difference,” Trixx told her. “You want to trust them like you want them to be the friends you knew again. You want them back. I’m sorry, Marinette. But we want new holders. All the Kwami do.”

“You need a team now,” Wayzz stated. “Not a later. Hawkmoth is growing stronger. You need allies. It’s time.”

“Pollen doesn’t want a new holder,” Marinette said petulantly.

           There was silence.

“…Pollen was always the weird one,” Wayzz shrugged. “Pollen will never change her mind about Chloe.”

           Marinette narrowed her eyes. That had been the longest argument ever. Eventually Marinette had lost the battle when she was forced to admit how much the blond hero had improved over time. Chloe hadn’t bullied or hurt anyone’s feeling in a very long time. There had been no tantrums or threats to call her daddy. Even without a mask, Marinette had spotted Chloe helping people escape Akumas at the risk of herself. She was proving to be a hero outside of being Queen bee. Marinette did trust her to fight by her side which had been the deciding factor.

Plus Pollen refused to give in, and the only one the Kwami would pick. So Marinette gave in. She went to Chloe as Ladybug and gave her the hair clip.

“Welcome to the team,” Ladybug smiled as best she could.

           Chloe held the hairclip with disbelief and tears in her eyes, “I’m going to be a hero? You trust me.”

“You are a hero,” Ladybug said and did the bravest, and possibly the stupid thing in her life, “Spots off.” She detransformed in front of Chloe. The blonde’s mouth dropped. “And I do trust you.”

“Dupain-Cheng!” Chloe hissed but then goarned. “I should’ve known.”

“Yes, Chloe gets to stay.”

           Trixx giggled, “Pollen only likes Queen Bees, and she hasn’t come across any better than Chloe at your school.”

“And, while, Chloe didn’t like you before, she does now.” Wayzz admitted, “She was always very loyal to Ladybug. She has potential to be a good hero if we can break her love of the limelight completely.”

           Marinette huffed.

“And I remind you, there were conditions,” Wayzz advised. “A new costume and a new name. New hair color. Whatever it takes. She can never tell the public who she really is. Killer Wasp has a nice ring to it.”

           Marinette sighed and slumped face first onto her. She could hear Tikki snickering in the background and vowed to only bring oatmeal cookies to her for the next week.

What was Marinette going to do? What could she do? She had been so excited when the Kwami told her they wanted to get more permanent use like Tikki and Plagg… Until they broke the news. (And just a bit of Marinette’s heart)

           Now Marinette had to find new users.

           Trixx wanted a creative free thinker who wasn’t the least bit stubborn. A different type of writer, Trixx has suggested. A clever story teller.

           Wayzz wanted who had the natural born ability to be a protector. Someone smart and hardworking who had proven themselves to be loyal.

           Marinette’s head snapped up and she glared at the two Kwami, “You already know who you want, don’t you?”

           Trixx and Wayzz smirked.

“In my chosen’s defense,” Wayzz started, “She has proven herself to be loyal to a fault. And with the right amount of confidence, she will be an extraordinary ally.”

“My chosen is so creative,” Trixx swooned, “The most brilliant imagination. As a natural storyteller, his mind was born to see all the possibilities. It allows him to come up with theories and ideas no one else would even consider. There is no illusion he can’t see through because as soon as he sees it hundreds of different explanations run through his head.”

           Marinette raised an eyebrow and gave them firm stare. “Who is it?”

“I want Marc!” Trixx said happily.

The bluenette looked thoughtful for a moment but eventually nodded, admitting that Marc would be a good match for Trixx. “Agreed, I will give Marc a trial run to test his abilities.” Then Marinette turned to Wayzz who was looking very sheepish.

“Hear me out, if we get my chosen on our side, she’d be unstoppable,” Wayzz told her. “There would be nothing she wouldn’t do for those she cares for.”

“Who. Is. It?” Marinette asked again.

“I like her,” Wayzz insisted. “She has potential. If she was just a bit bolder…”

“Wayzz…” Marinette said.

Trixx snickered, “There’s a reason Wayzz gave into Chloe…”

Marinette paused. She slowly sat up on her bed, and looked at Wayzz long and hard, “…Sabrina? You want Sabrina!!!”

“Yes.”

“ARE YOU KIDDING ME?” The shout could be heard all over Paris.

“She hated me,” Marinette reminded the kwami.

“Disliked you,” Wayzz corrected. “But only because Chloe did. Once Sabrina found out you and Chloe had become friends, you have to admit she has become rather sweet. She’s a hard worker and defended you against Lila three times last week.”

“And you do like her,” Trixx added. “Why else would you have a slumber party with Chloe and Sabrina?”

“…I hit my head a lot during fights,” Marinette shrugged. “Magic can’t take away all the damage.”

           She sighed. Marc and Sabrina, huh? Marinette wondered how that was going to work out. She hated to admit it but Wayzz and Trixx were right. Ladybug couldn’t wait anymore. She needed a team. One she could count on in and outside of the mask. The city needed more heroes.

           It wasn’t right to make them wait just because she clung to a hope that everything would go back to the way it was. Marinette really missed her friends but she couldn’t wait for them anymore. It had been months.

           And even if everyone in class discovered Lila’s was lying, that Marinette wasn’t a jealous, nasty bully, that she was their friend… That Marinette had always been their friend… It wouldn’t matter.

           Truthfully, after everything that had happened, Wayzz was right. Marinette didn’t trust them, she just wanted to. And that wasn’t enough.

           Not enough for Kwami, and not enough for her. (not anymore)

           Nothing could or would go back to the way it was no matter how much Marinette wished it. Once bitten, twice shy. A part of will never entirely trust them again. (Not when they traded her for fool’s gold already before.)

           Paris needed more permanent heroes. Ladybug needed a team. Marinette needed people she could trust.

           She was done waiting.

(She wondered how Alya and Nino would handle being replaced...)

…

…

            ...They didn’t take it well.

(Sabrina, Shield Maiden, and Marc, Renard Masqué, thrived as heroes.)