#consider that the met gala is a charity event

[jaskierx]

people posting about the met gala are not ‘literally complicit in genocide’. they’re not ‘personally murdering civilians’. equating reblogging a picture of a celebrity in an outfit to killing another person with your own hands as part of a genocide is fucking harmful. people are being murdered and you’re choosing to throw around accusations in their name so you can feel like a big guy on the internet? wobble your fucking head

[frownyalfred]

Do you have any Thomas Wayne headcanons ? <3

has the unique ability to curl up and nap anywhere despite being 6 foot+ (it’s where Bruce gets the ability to sleep in the field from)

played rugby in college

recruited Alfred himself when Alfred, in the employ of another family as a valet, herded Thomas politely away from a car with the employer’s children waiting inside (Martha was pregnant or about to be and Thomas was impressed)

would box with Alfred on slow nights, yes shirtless (Martha pretended not to watch but she’d peek)

Bruce slept more in his arms than the crib or anywhere else for his first few weeks of life

brilliant but spacey at times. Martha gave up trying to help/remind him so sometimes he’d show up to fundraisers/galas/events sans tie, socks, etc

hated being in those social circles and considered his medical peers and the staff at WE (Lucius Fox, etc) as his real social circle

the definition of quiet wealth, if you saw him on the street you wouldn’t guess he was so extravagantly wealthy

worked the ER for a long time, and saw the worst of Gotham (via its victims) which led to increased donations and the establishment of several additional charities

met Martha on a beer crawl and was entranced when she turned him down 3-4 times before finally agreeing to date him

was a bit of a womanizer before he got married, but after he met Martha his eyes never strayed, not even once

if Martha kicked him out of bed he would whine and sleep at the foot of the bed on the floor instead of literally any of the 24 bedrooms in the Manor or like, the couch

defended his choice to marry Martha to both his family and hers (no one liked the match)

it took him longer to die in that alley than people realized. Alfred, when reading the autopsy report, believed it was due to his need to ensure Bruce was safe. Martha died nearly instantly.

[jukeboxsweethearttt]

for older sugar daddy rafe and reader would you write their first argument or something like that

Book of Love

Oldersugardaddyboyfriend!Rafe Cameron x Fem Reader

cw:angst:( but has a fluffy ending, talks of pregnancy, Rafe’s oldest daughter Claire is older than you, Victoria is the same age as you and Hannah is younger than you. no use of y/n I think

inspired by @starfxkr sugar daddy Rafe ofc

The sprawling lawn of Rafe’s Hamptons estate basked in the glow of the setting sun, creating a picturesque scene that starkly contrasted with the storm brewing inside.

The dining room, typically a place of warmth and laughter, was now tense with an unfamiliar strain. You sat at the end of the long, gleaming table, your hands clasped tightly in your lap. Rafe stood across from you, his stance rigid and his eyes filled with frustration.

His three daughters, Claire , Victoria, and Hannah, watched the scene unfold with a mix of concern and unease.

This was the first serious argument you and Rafe had ever had. It had started over the charity gala—a high-profile event you had been working on tirelessly.

“Rafe, I just want to make this event something special, something that showcases what we can achieve together,” you said, your voice trembling slightly.

Rafe, his expression hard, replied, “This isn’t about showcasing us, Bunny. This is about making strategic decisions. You need to understand the stakes involved.”

Claire, the eldest, shifted uncomfortably in her seat. She shared a look with her sisters, Victoria, and Hannah, the youngest of the bunch.

Claire finally spoke up, her tone gentle yet firm. “Dad, she’s trying to help. She’s put a lot of effort into this.”

Rafe’s eyes softened momentarily as he looked at his daughter, but his frustration remained palpable. “I know, Claire, but this is more complicated than just putting in effort. Experience matters here.”

You felt a lump form in your throat. “Rafe, I’m not just some inexperienced kid. I’m trying to contribute, to be a part of this.”

Rafe’s gaze turned steely. “You are young and inexperienced. You don’t get how high the stakes are. This isn’t some game.”

Your heart sank at his words. Tears welled up in your eyes as you struggled to hold back your emotions.

“I can’t believe you see me that way,” you whispered, standing up abruptly. “I thought we were in this together.”

Victoria stood, her face a mix of anger and disappointment. “Dad, you’re being unfair. She’s doing her best.”

Rafe ran a hand through his hair, his frustration boiling over. “Life isn’t fair, Victoria. I’m trying to protect her from making mistakes that could cost us.”

You couldn’t bear it any longer. Tears streaming down your face, you rushed out of the room, the sound of the door slamming echoing through the house.

Claire glanced at her father, shaking her head in disappointment before following you outside.

Rafe stood there, his anger giving way to a heavy silence. Hannah finally spoke up, her voice quiet but firm. “Dad, you really hurt her.”

Outside, Claire found you sitting on a garden bench, your shoulders shaking with sobs. She sat down next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders.

“Hey, it’s okay. He didn’t mean it he’s just stressed,” she said softly.

You wiped at your tears, shaking your head. “It’s not okay, Claire. He thinks I’m just some naive child.”

Claire sighed, her heart aching for you. “He’s scared, that’s all. He doesn’t know how to handle this.”

You took a deep, shuddering breath. “I can’t handle all of this stress. There’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice barely a whisper.

She looked at you, concern etched on her face. “What is it?”

You met her gaze, your eyes filled with a mix of fear and hope. “I’m pregnant. I just found out a few days ago.”

Claire’s eyes widened in surprise she knows you’ve wanted children of your own but was shocked at the news considering her dad’s age.

Deep down she’s kind of indifferent but pushes those feelings to the side quickly as you started to cry again from her silence.

She quickly pulled you into a tight hug. “Oh my God, that’s news. Have you told him yet?”

You shook your head. “No, I was waiting for the right moment. But now... I don’t know if there ever will be one.”

She pulled back, holding your shoulders. “You need to tell him. It might be exactly what he needs to hear.”

Back inside, Rafe was pacing the living room, his frustration giving way to a deep sense of guilt. Victoria and Hannah watched him, their expressions stern.

“Dad, don’t you think you were a bit harsh?” Victoria asked, her voice steady but reproachful. “She’s part of our family.”

Rafe stopped, his shoulders slumping. “I know, I just... I don’t know how to handle this.”

“You handle it by respecting her,” Hannah said softly. “She’s not a child, Dad. She’s your partner.”

Just then, Claire walked back in with you, your face still streaked with tears but your resolve stronger. Rafe looked up, his heart aching at the sight of you so upset.

“I’m sorry,” Rafe began, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Before you say anything, there’s something I need to tell you,” you said, your voice steady. “I’m pregnant, Rafe.”

The room fell silent, Rafe’s eyes widening in shock. He took a step towards you, his expression softening. “You’re... you’re pregnant?”

You nodded, tears spilling over once more. “I found out a few days ago. I wanted to tell you in a special way, but...”

Rafe closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms. “I’m so sorry, baby. I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m just... scared. Scared of not being good enough.”

You looked up at him, your eyes filled with love and determination. “We’re in this together, Rafe. We can make it work, but you have to trust me. Trust us.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes brimming with tears. “I promise. I’ll do better. I’ll trust you, and I’ll be there for you and our baby.”

Claire, Victoria, and Hannah watched the exchange, their expressions softening with relief but making a mental note to discuss this sudden pregnancy announcement later.

The tension in the room began to dissipate, replaced by a sense of hope and renewed commitment.

Later that evening, you found yourself in the kitchen, helping Victoria prepare dinner.

Victoria glanced over at you, offering a small smile. “I’m so happy that you stood up to him,” she said softly. “Dad needed a wake-up call.”

You returned her smile, feeling a warm sense of acceptance. “Thanks, Victoria. It means a lot that you understand.”

Meanwhile, in the living room, Rafe sat with Claire and Hannah. Claire leaned forward, her expression serious but kind.

“Dad, she’s good for you. We see how happy she makes you, but you have to let her grow up. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.”

Rafe nodded, his eyes thoughtful. “I know, Claire. I just… I’ve spent so much time trying to protect everyone that sometimes I forget to let go. I’ll work on it.”

Hannah, who had been quiet until now, chimed in. “We all want the best for you, Dad. And for her. Just remember, she chose to be with you because she loves you, not because she needs a protector.”

Their words resonated with Rafe, who realized just how much he had to learn about balancing his protective instincts with respecting your independence.

He stood up, feeling a mixture of gratitude and determination. “You’re right. All of you. I’m lucky to have you four looking out for me.”

Back in the kitchen, Victoria was dishing up the last of the pasta when Rafe entered. He walked over to you, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been talking with the girls,” he said, his voice soft and earnest. “And they’ve made me see things more clearly. I need to let you live your life, make your own choices. I’m so proud of you for standing up to me.”

You looked up at him, your heart swelling with love and relief. “Thank you, Rafe. That means a lot to me.”

Dinner was a warm, lively affair. The five of you sat around the table, sharing stories and laughter. The earlier argument seemed like a distant memory, replaced by a stronger sense of family and mutual respect.

Claire and Victoria teased Hannah about her latest crush, while Rafe kept his hand on yours under the table, a silent promise of his commitment to change.

As the evening wore on, you found yourself sitting on the balcony with Rafe, the moon twinkling above. He wrapped his arm around you, pulling you close.

“You know, Bunny, I’ve never felt this way before. You’ve brought so much joy into my life.”

You rested your head on his shoulder, feeling content and secure. “And you’ve given me a life I never dreamed possible, Rafe. I’m so grateful for you.”

Rafe tilted your chin up, looking deeply into your eyes. “I promise to always support you, to let you be your own person. We’re partners in this, equal partners.”

You kissed him softly, the love between you palpable. “Thank you, Daddy. That’s all I ever wanted.”

As you both sat there, you felt a deep sense of peace. The argument had brought you closer, teaching you both valuable lessons about trust and love. And as Rafe held you close, you knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you would face them together.

The next morning, Rafe surprised you with breakfast in bed, a gesture that made your heart flutter. He sat beside you, watching you eat with a content smile.

“I thought we could spend the day together, just the two of us. How does that sound, Princess?”

You grinned, feeling the excitement bubble up inside you.

[burning-omen]

Kinktober Day 1: Breeding + Jason Todd

Jason Todd x male reader

Kinktober 2023 list | Day 2 | Ao3

(a/n; “hey it's September 30th, right? Tf you mean ‘it's october 1st’ no the fuck it no- AHHHHHH” me about three hours ago realizing that I never finished THE FIRST DAY of kinktober )

Summary: You’re a photographer at the Wayne Family events, after meeting Jason by chance they start growing closer

Warning: Horny Jason, horny reader, top!reader, bottom!jason, Jason moans like a bitch, rude rich people, pillow princess + brat Jason Todd, unprotected sex, breeding, not beta read lol.

Word count: 3.4k

To the shock of everyone involved, Jason Todd attended all of the Wayne Galas, not because he liked them- obviously. No, these things were horrible and stuffy and he hated every last person in attendance. Well, almost every last person. Bruce had hired a photographer a few months back, the first few events that you photographed you were mostly in the background, taking wide shots of the entire party, only recently did you start to mingle with the crowd more.

You met Jason a few weeks back as you tried to navigate through a pushy crowd of rich people who, to no one surprise, all thought they were the most important person there. You got pushed into Jason by a man who looked like he could have been British royalty in the 1800s, he sneered at you like a cartoon villain before walking away. You'd been overly apologetic that day, having nearly knocked the drink out of his hand. He was fine though, if not slightly enamored, you looked nice, but out of place, your clothes weren't quite up to Wayne Gala standards, before he could ask what you were doing here, he noticed the camera hanging from your neck, and offered to be your guide.

He ended up sticking with you for the rest of the night, talking as you took pictures of various people and decor around the event. It made your job a hell of a lot easier, people were quick to bump into you, you weren't rich and therefore weren't fully human to these people, but Jason was one of them, well, he was close enough, and even if he wasn't, if he was just as out of place as you, nobody was going to disrespect the host's son.

By the end of the night, you and Jason were on one of the balconies looking over all the photos from that night, and eventually some of your other work.

Eventually, you did have to leave, Bruce was paying for your ride and you really didn't want him to have to wait any longer.

You only got closer after that, every event that the Waynes hosted, you were there, and on your tail- as always- was Jason.

Your relationship didn't take a turn until the last party the Wayne threw, this one wasn't a charity but a birthday party for Bruce's friend, Oliver Queen, who insisted he needed to have it in Gotham. And even though Bruce gave a perfect speech regarding their friendship, you couldn't help but hear the irritation behind it. The night went on as usual, with Jason acting as your shadow as you weed through the crowd.

Your end of the night ritual is the only thing that changed, as you were showing Jason the pictures from tonight, he leaned over and rested his head on your shoulder, an odd act from the man, considering the most he'd touched you at this point was him putting a hand on your shoulder or tapping you to get your attention.

“Tired?” you asked jokingly.

“No,” he said but didn't elaborate.

As you continued to shuffle through the pictures you could feel him nuzzling into your neck. You let out a short, nervous laugh.

“Are you drunk?”

He hummed quietly, then laughed, “No, I'm just…”

He didn't continue, just pressing further into you, you gave up on showing him the photos for now, instead carding your fingers through his hair. Feeling just how different the white streak felt from the rest of his hair, most of his hair was thick and smooth, running through your fingers with ease. The white part was thick too, but it just felt like air, so light and delicate that you could barely feel it against your fingers.

You didn't stop until you felt his lips press against your neck, again and again as he hummed in contempt.

“Jason…” you muttered but didn't move to stop him.

He eventually moved up to your face- your cheeks, your jaw, your lips- with his kisses. It was only when you made a move and kissed him back did things escalate.

You ended up fumbling around on the floor with him, then in the hall, and on the wall next to his bedroom wall, and eventually in his bedroom. Which resulted in the most embarrassing walk of shame you've ever experienced as you had to run past your literal boss having breakfast with the rest of his family- he looked just as shocked as you imagined he would. Jason's older brother, Dick, made a comment that made Jason shout at him, you couldn't hear it with how hard your heart was beating in your ears.

You expected everything to end after that, your friendship with Jason, your job, your reputation as a photographer.

But to your surprise, the moment the front door closed behind you, Jason grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss, sweet and slow, nowhere near as frantic and lust-filled as they were the night before.

You started getting together outside of events after that, he stayed at your apartment most days, because ‘he liked being surrounded by you’. You learned a few things about him too, a big one being that he was a bottom, not just a bottom. A total pillow princess as well. He’ll flirt and tease all day and night long, but the moment you turn around to do the same to him, he becomes so pliant, letting you move him how you like, touch him how you liked, and fuck him how you liked.

Considering how close you'd become with his son, you figured you'd never get a call from Bruce to do another job. But you did, and despite feeling a bit out of place at first you eventually got back into it. Jason was your shadow as always, whispering things he definitely shouldn't in your ear, making it hard to focus.

“When was the last time we fucked, honestly?”

“Babe, I'm working,” you said calmly.

“It’s a genuine question.”

You sighed, “about a week ago, when the power went out.”

He only chuckled, still leaning down in you ear.

“There’s gotta be a broom closet somewhere around here-”

“Jason, stop it-”

“I want you to fuck me right up against the door, let everybody hear me while you-”

“Jason-”

“Jason!”

Looking over you saw Dick, who was probably the most outwardly supportive of your relationship with Jason out of everyone in his family. The presence of his brother shut him up quickly, his face turning a bit red. You and Jason wandered around the party with Dick for a while, you were having a great time, taking photos as Dick told to funny little stories about Jason.

Jason, however, wasn't having a great time. He’d planned to flirt with you all night then get fucked so hard that his brain stopped working, then getting pampered by you for the rest of the night, unfortunately, Dick had taken an interest in you for the night, purely platonic of course, but it was constant, and even though Dick has definitely seen Jason at his worst, it'd be really fucking weird if he begged you to fuck him within earshot of his brother. So he held out, frustrated and horny as the party droned on.

By the time guests started leaving you'd been informed of every little embarrassing thing Jason has ever done- including stealing the wheels off Bruce's car, some stories had to be left out or changed for obvious reasons, but outside of that, you were caught up on Jason's embarrassment timeline. You could practically feel Jason stewing behind you, horny, frustrated, and, embarrassed all at once.

“I think it's time for us to go, if we stay any longer Jason's brain is going to start leaking out of his ears.”

You said your goodbyes to Dick and turned to Jason, who was glaring after the man as he walked away.

“We can go now.”

The fumble up to his bedroom was exactly that, a fumble as you clumsily avoided the lingering guest, and as you took a few minutes to worship the exposed pieces of his body on the stairs with your hands and mouth, only moving when you heard footsteps.

You didn't carry Jason into the room, but you might as well have with the way you controlled his every move. He fell back onto his bed, spreading his legs subconsciously even though he was still fully dressed. The smile on his face only grew wider when you yanked him by his now loose tie, pulling him back up to you, pressing a kiss on his lips that only got more heated with every passing second. Kneeling on the bed, his legs wrapped around your waist almost instantly, you could feel the heels of the balmorals Bruce had bought him digging into the back of your thigh.

He pulled back, flopping down on the bed. Jason's hands, however steady they were before, became utterly useless in a matter of seconds as he failed to unbutton his pants several times before giving up, wordlessly resting his hands above his head, staring up at you expectantly. The term ‘pillow princess’ came to mind for a brief second as you unbuttoned them for him. Purposefully ignoring the tight bulge in his pants that was nearly demanding your attention.

“Come on, y/n,” he muttered, his voice as deep as ever.

Slowly rocking his hips against yours in a desperate, yet short lived, attempt at getting you to act. You were by no means cruel, and considering his little plan for the night hadn't fallen through, you indulged him. Lifting his still-clothed thigh up to your shoulder, you had to do a bit of maneuvering to get his pants down to his ankles, Jason was entirely unhelpful, you'd be convinced he was a rag doll if it weren't for his inability to stop fucking squirming.

The way his cock twitched in his pants showed you just how desperate he was, thrusting up against nothing, a short whine coming from somewhere deep in his throat as he started up at you with those pretty blue eyes.

You ran your hands over the exposed skin of his thigh, leaning down and kissing them, leaving little bruises and bites before switching to the next. His gaze was intense, almost glaring, but the whines and whimpers he let out told you that he was just desperate.

Then, unexpectedly, you slid your hand all the way down the inside of his thigh, feeling goosebumps rise in your wake, Jason figured you'd stop just before his cock, you liked teasing him like that, liked taking him apart slowly. But that's apparently not what you had in mind tonight, he only realized that when you wrapped your fingers around his cock, the fabric of his boxers tightened along with your grip. He whined, bucking up into your hand.

Far faster than he expected, you stroked him through his pants, the texture of them and the squeezing pressure your hand provided sending shivers up and down his spine. He gripped the bed sheets as you settled into a pleasant rhythm, fast and tight around his sensitive cock.

His eyes hung low, squeezing shut when you brushed over the tip.

Jason came quickly, hips sputtering and muttering incoherently as he did, cum sleeping through black fabric, drenching your hand and the boxers.

You pulled back, putting your hands back on his thighs, watching his chest rise and fall rapidly as he came down.

Hands still gripping the sheets, he sat there and waited, waiting for you to do something, you were in control after all. But you didn't, you just watched him, his chest rising and falling, cum splattered on his underwear and just under his belly button, the bruises and bites littering his thighs.

“Y/n..” he muttered, hard and horny all over again.

You laughed, “yes?”

He scooted closer to you until you hips were firmly pressed against his ass. Even then, you could here him muttering ‘come on’ over and over against under his breath.

“Speak up, you have to tell me what you want.”

He glared, a real harsh glare that you knew was born out of frustration. He should have known you'd be like this, for a moment he thought he'd really gotten off the hook, but you never just let him cum, you never just fucked him, no, he had to beg for it, as though him presenting himself to you wasn't begging enough.

“Just,” suddenly unable to find his words, Jason groaned, “do something!”

You let out another short laugh, then asked, “Something like what?”

The urge to kick you suddenly emereged.

“Anything, please I-” his hands went from the bed sheets to his face, covering his eyes as his brain once again failed to produce the right words.

You leaned down, pressing kisses down his throat and the pieces of his chest that we're exposed.

After a moment you asked, “How about you tell me what you wanted earlier, you seemed to have a lot of ideas then.”

He shifted, his hands finding the bed again, seems like his mind was racing, as his eyes were almost completely unfocused and blush rose on his cheeks with every second that passed, you gave him a moment to sort himself out.

He spoke suddenly, his voice coming out with some force, “I need you to fuck me until I can’t take it anymore, like you did when the power went out and we didn’t have anything else to do but fuck over and over again, I need you to fuck me like that again, I want you to cum in me so many times that it drips out of my ass and ruins the bed- ah- and I- I can’t- I can’t fucking think with you grinding against me like that so can you please just hurry up and do something!”

A wide grin spread out on your face, even though you barely comprehended that you were grinding your bulge into his ass, it was good to see how a bit of gentle pressure was already making him writhe.

You pulled back, before he could stop complaining you flipped the giant of a man onto his stomach with a hard shove. You heard him moan as he bounced against the bed, he liked being manhandled, but you figured that one out a while ago.

Pulling his boxers down to his knees, fully ready to prep him, only to see the familiar shiny glint of lube covering his hole. Without thinking, you pressed a finger in, feeling just how easily he took it you almost laughed.

“You take all the fun out of prepping you..”

“Shut up and fuck me!”

His desperate, panting tone was enough for you to cave, even as he glared back at you. It took you a second to get out of your clothes, well really just your pants, belt, and boxers, but it still took longer than Jason would have ever liked, again, bratty pillow princess of the century.

By the time you let your cock prod against his hole, he'd grabbed a pillow and rested it under his head, still turning to face you as you slowly pushed in. His resolve didn't last long, broken by a long moan as the head of your cock slipped into his hole, already about to thrust a hole into the bed sheets.

You grabbed his hips, pressing them hard into the bed, he stopped moving, an undeniable whimper coming from him.

You pressed further, barely even half way in and you could feel him squeezing around you, you pressed down until your hips were pressed together.

He panted and moaned, his body flexing, then relaxing. You waited for him to give you a sign that he was okay, and when he did you waited more, just to tease him. He realized this a couple of seconds later, dropping his head into the pillow with a frustrated groan, you're surprised he didn't turn around and cuss you out at that exact moment.

Even though you probably shouldn't have, you pulled out slow, and slammed back into him with more force than you meant to, the bed dipped beneath you both and Jason let put a wild moan. You probably should have gone slow with him, made him cum over and over again before filling him yourself, but you didn't, you had a bit of an epiphany while you had Jason fully wrapped around your cock. You were really, really fucking horny. With someone as pretty as Jason it was always so tempting to take him about the slow way, teasing, drawing orgasm after orgasm out of him, but with some that felt as good as Jason does, it's pretty easy to let that idea fly out the window in turn of pounding him into the mattress.

So you did.

Watching him claw and bite at the pillow beneath him in an attempt to bring some stability back. His whole body getting forced forward with every thrust.

Loud, almost pained, moans and the sound of skin hitting skin filled the room. Even with the pillow shoved into his mouth he was still impossibly loud. You could feel just how warm he’d gotten, his skin was hot and sweaty, and in your mind, you'd hardly even done anything to him yet.

Little tears prickled in his eyes, he squeezed them closed tightly. Taking your cock wasn't anything new to him but fuck, sometimes you could be rough. Not that he didn't enjoy it, no, if he had less pride he’d be screaming at the top of his lungs how good it felt.

He could already tell where bruises were going to form, he'd have burning red hand prints on his waist for sure, and an odd one on his ass and inner thighs, hickies and smaller bruises would litter practically every surface his body offered for sure.

Leaning down, you thrust hitting deeper and deeper, you kissed along his shoulders and back, trying to soothe at least a little of the hurt you were causing. You didn't but it felt nice anyways.

Jason's vision went a little spotty when he came again, you never stopped fucking him and he really didn't want you to. His cum soaked into the sheets beneath him, he could feel the sticky sheets cling to his stomach.

You followed soon after, shooting cum deep inside of him, just like he wanted. He whimpered quietly at the feeling, he could still feel you fucking him with your softened cock, trusting much slower, much to his dismay. He knew you were just waiting to get hard again but he really didn't like waiting.

It didn't take long for you to get hard again, you were still fully inside your beautiful boyfriend's beautiful ass so it definitely wasn't difficult. You continued pounding into him like nothing happened, he didn't say anything either, other than incoherent word between moans. Even though he didn't have to wait long, he missed you fucking him already.

You slammed into him hard and he went cross-eyed for a moment, letting his moans flow freely, louder and more satisfied than before.

“Right there-” he panted, “again, please-”

You couldn't deny him, not when he begged like that, you angled you hips so you'd slam against that spot again and again until he was staining the sheets for a second, then third time.

He made it too easy to want to fuck him.

His body was nearly limp by his fourth orgasm, you pulled out, he let out a little noise, unable to do much about it. You flipped him onto his back, seeing the mess covering his cock and stomach, his eyes tracked your every move, but not many where made, you ran your hands down his thighs just like you'd found before, then shoved your cock back into his mess of a hole.

You chased your own pleasure, dragging an exhausted Jason along with you for the ride. His hands gripped onto you, pulling you down and holding you tight, letting his airy moans fill your ears.

You came soon after, with him clawing at your back and clinging to you like a damn koala. You stayed inside him for a long moment, waiting for him to remember that he had to let you go.

When he did, you leaned back, watching yourself pull out of him, your cock covered in cum and lube. Cum dripped out of his hole rapidly, a puddle forming and growing on the bed, you laughed, still a bit winded.

“Hey, looks like you got your wish, these sheets are defiantly ruined.”

He laughed tiredly before pulling you back down into his arms.

[ameliaenya404]

Lipstick

Hawks x reader. Fluff.

Mel's flufftober event

Hawks always had a thing for you putting on your makeup. It was perhaps a fascination. You had a specific routine, even if you yourself never noticed.

You'd always do your lipstick last, if you planned on wearing any at all. You mostly used the tube's of lipstick he bought you whenever you had an event or party he was taking you to.

Galas, fundraisers, art auctions for charity. Anything particularly classy.

Hawks always took a bit long to get ready, making sure his hair looked just right. That his cologne lingered and his collar was tucked properly. When you constantly had camreas on you, it was more of a requirement to be a little self absorbed.

There was a imminent expectation from everyone that he looked his best all the time.

Although -ever since he had started dating you- he cut off an extra 5 minutes of nit picking his appearance in the mirror in favour of watching you put the finishing touches of your makup on or to help you lace up your dress.

By just a few months in, he was fully cemented into your routine, and you in his.

Tonight was no different, as he stood behind you where you sat at your vanity. His palms on your shoulders, gently massaging them to get whatever tension they accumulated throughout the day to dissipate.

He wanted you perfectly relaxed around him, no worries in your pretty little head. His gaze was soft as it met yours in the mirror. You redirected your focus onto your makeup drawer, rummaging through the multiple shades of lipstick he bought you or sneaked into his pocket at modeling gigs.

Hawks watched as your hand hovered over the collection for a moment as you considered your options before reaching down and picking a deep wine-red shade. The familiar pop when you removed the cover reached his ears and he let out a soft sigh.

He removed his hands from your shoulders to allow you to lean closer to the mirror. He watched you apply it with no more than a few precise swipes, admiring the pretty stain it left on your lips.

He watched as you leaned back in your chair once you were satisfied, and he couldn't help himself. He spun your chair to face him, leaning down to press his lips against yours.

He restrained himself from running his hands through your hair, knowing if he messed up the time you spent on styling your hair his hand holding privileges would be revoked. He didn't feel like facing your wrath tonight, opting to keep things sweet and playful.

After a few moments he broke the kiss, allowing both him and you to catch your breath. You were all giggles and smiles, playfully swating at his shoulder.

"You ruined my lipstick," you giggle, glancing in the vanity mirror to see your lipstick smudged, before glancing back at him. The evidence of his crimes smudged a deep red all over his lips.

"S' not ruined, I think you still look perfect, baby" he chuckled at your light hearted huff.

"One day I'm going to get those transfer proof lipsticks and you're going to get all pouty when your little jokes don't work," you smile, re-applying your lipstick lazily and standing abruptly, grasping his tie and pulling him close.

You smirk at his little chirp of surprise. It was always gratifying when you could coax those sweet little sounds from the back of his throat. Something you knew he tried so hard to suppress.

He allows you to push him back onto the bed, chuckling as your hair tickles his neck when you lean down to playfully nip at his jugular. He could feel the matte of your lipstick stick onto his neck as you leave kisses from his jaw line down to where the slightest bit of his collar bone was exposed.

You were still careful and considerate enough to ensure it didn't get on his white dress shirt. You trailed back up to his lips, nibbling his lower lip before pulling back with a smile.

"There, now both our looks are ruined." You giggle as he looks up at you with half lidded eyes.

"You're right, looks like we'll just have to stay home tonight..."

[mynicosensesaretingling]

One glance, A Second Chance

Nico Rosberg x fem! reader

Summary: Nico and (Y/N) unexpectedly cross paths at a charity event in Monaco. Old feelings resurface and they wonder if they might be able to give love a second chance.

Warnings: none

Note: Just a little thing that came to mind. I hope my fellow Nico enthusiasts enjoy this <3

————-

The Monaco Charity Gala was in full swing, the grand hall filled with the glittering elite of the racing world and beyond. Chandeliers cast a golden glow across the room, while the soft hum of conversation and clinking glasses blended with the sound of an orchestra playing softly in the background. Amidst the glitz and glamour, (Y/N) stood confidently, her black gown hugging her figure as she scanned the room with ease.

She was no stranger to events like these. Her success in the business world had made her a regular at high-profile galas, but tonight carried an extra layer of significance. It had been years since she’d been in the same room as Nico Rosberg. Their paths had diverged sharply after their brief, intense relationship years ago, back when his racing career was in full swing and her career was just taking off.

"Still can’t believe you got me to come here," (Y/N) murmured to her friend beside her, holding a champagne flute in hand. "I thought I was done with these types of events."

Her friend laughed lightheartedly. "Oh, come on. It's Monaco! And you look like you own the place."

With a small subtle smirk forming on her lips, (Y/N) clinked her glass with hers. "Fine, you win this one."

As they chatted, (Y/N)'s gaze drifted across the room—until her eyes came to an abrupt stop. There he was. Nico Rosberg. He hadn’t changed much since she’d last seen him: still the same confident, relaxed demeanour, his blonde hair swept back, and those striking blue eyes that had always drawn attention, were still holding the same sparkle that she remembered so fondly. He was deep in conversation with someone, but almost as if sensing her gaze, his eyes found hers across the room.

For a moment, time seemed to freeze. Nico’s expression shifted, surprise flickering across his face, quickly replaced by something more unreadable. His lips curved into a small smile as he excused himself from his conversation and made his way toward her.

(Y/N) took a steadying breath, not out of nerves, but to prepare herself for the inevitable conversation. She wasn’t the starry-eyed girl she had been when they first met. She had changed, and so had he. But there was a history between them, a spark that never fully faded, no matter how hard she tried to ignore it.

"Surreal. But seeing a friendly face makes it a bit more real," Nico said as he approached her, his smile soft but genuine.

"Oh, really?" (Y/N) teased, raising an eyebrow. "Just a friendly face? I’m wounded, Rosberg."

Nico chuckled, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Okay, maybe a little more than just a friendly face." He paused, letting his gaze linger on her for a moment. "You look stunning, by the way."

(Y/N) smirked. "I always do."

There it was—the banter that had always come so naturally between them. Nico's grin widened, clearly enjoying the back-and-forth. "Fair enough. But you still surprised me. I didn’t think I’d see you here in Monaco of all places."

"Surprised myself, honestly," she admitted, taking a sip of her champagne. "But it’s Monaco, as you said. And it’s always fun to see old friends."

"Is that what we are now? Old friends?" Nico leaned in slightly, his tone low, playful even.

(Y/N) met his gaze head-on, her smile unwavering. "Well, considering you haven’t spoken to me in what… three years? Yeah, I'd say old friends is a good place to start."

Nico laughed, clearly not fazed by her confidence. "Touché. But to be fair, you’ve been busy conquering the world, and I’ve been—"

"Retired?" she finished, her eyes sparkling. "Yes, I noticed."

He raised a brow, clearly amused by her boldness. "I prefer 'champion-turned-entrepreneur,' thank you very much."

(Y/N) gave him a slow, approving nod. "That does indeed sound better."

Nico flashed a smile, clearly enjoying the subtle praise, but there was something more behind his eyes. “So, what about you? I remember you always had a million things going on. What’s kept you busy lately?”

(Y/N) leaned against the bar, turning her body slightly toward him. “Busy would be an understatement. Expanding the company, travelling... you know how it is.”

Nico tilted his head, curiosity piqued. “You always were ambitious. But what brought you to Monaco? I mean, it’s not just for the racing, right?”

She chuckled, swirling the champagne in her glass. “You’d be surprised. I’ve always had a soft spot for Monaco, and not just for the obvious reasons. It’s got charm, a pace I can appreciate now.”

“Now?” Nico raised a brow. “Has something changed?”

“More like I’ve changed,” (Y/N) replied, her gaze briefly meeting his, her expression softening. “Life moves fast. Sometimes you have to slow down and appreciate what’s right in front of you.”

Nico’s smile widened. “You sound like someone who’s finally found balance.”

“Maybe I have.” Her eyes flicked toward the stage where guests were mingling. “But enough about me. Tell me, does retired life suit you?”

Nico leaned in slightly, his voice lowering in a conspiratorial whisper. “Retired isn’t the word I’d use. More like… strategically exited.”

(Y/N) laughed, the sound drawing a few glances from the nearby tables. “Strategically exited? Wow, that sounds like something you’d put on a résumé.”

“Hey, if I’m going to leave on a high, might as well make it sound good, right?” Nico grinned, clearly amused by their back-and-forth. But then his tone softened, and he glanced at her with a more genuine expression. “But seriously… life after racing, it’s different. Calmer. But I can’t lie—I do miss it sometimes.”

(Y/N) nodded, understanding more than he knew. “It must be hard to step away from something that’s been your entire life for so long. But you seem to have transitioned well.”

“I’m doing my best.” Nico shrugged, his eyes never leaving hers. “And honestly, moments like this—seeing old friends again—they make it a little easier.”

There was a pause, the weight of his words settling between them. (Y/N) felt the familiar spark, the one that had been there years ago, flickering again.

“You know,” she said, breaking the silence with a smirk, “you’ve become quite the charmer since your ‘strategic exit.’ Was it part of your post-racing training?”

Nico laughed, shaking his head. “No, no training required. I just remember how to keep up with you.”

Before (Y/N) could respond, a voice interrupted the moment. "Nico!" A fellow guest had come up to greet him, and Nico gave them a polite smile before turning back to her.

“Duty calls,” he said, a hint of reluctance in his tone. “But don’t disappear on me, okay?”

(Y/N) gave him a playful smile. “I’ll try not to, but no promises.”

Nico’s grin widened as he stood, but before he walked away, he leaned in closer, his breath warm against her ear. “I’ll hold you to that.”

As he moved back into the crowd, (Y/N) watched him go, feeling the undeniable pull of their connection. It had been years, but something about tonight felt different—more electric, more certain.

The night continued, with flashes of conversation and laughter, but her mind kept drifting back to Nico. They hadn’t crossed paths in so long, but now that they had, the chemistry between them was undeniable.

Later, as the event began to wind down, (Y/N) stepped outside to get some fresh air. The cool night breeze was refreshing against her skin, a welcome reprieve from the warmth of the crowded gala hall.

She heard footsteps behind her and wasn’t surprised when Nico appeared at her side, his hands casually tucked into his pockets. “Escaping the madness too?”

“Just needed a moment,” she replied with a smile. “It’s been quite the night.”

Nico nodded, standing close enough that their shoulders almost touched. “It really has.”

They stood there for a few moments in comfortable silence, gazing out at the city lights twinkling over Monaco’s famous harbour. The night felt peaceful, but there was an undeniable tension between them—one that neither of them seemed eager to break.

Eventually, Nico spoke, his voice softer than before. “You know, I’ve been thinking about something.”

(Y/N) turned to look at him, curiosity in her eyes. “Oh? What’s that?”

He hesitated for a second as if weighing his words. “We’ve both changed. A lot. But standing here with you, it feels… easy. Like no time has passed.”

Her heart skipped a beat, and she felt the pull again—stronger this time. “It does,” she agreed, her voice just above a whisper.

Nico turned to face her fully, his blue eyes locking onto hers. “I don’t want to miss the chance to reconnect. To see where this goes.”

(Y/N)’s breath caught in her throat, the weight of his words sinking in. She had always been confident, in control, but right now, with him, she felt the stirrings of something more—something she hadn’t felt in a long time.

She smiled softly, her heart pounding in her chest. “I’d like that, Nico.”

The smile that spread across Nico’s face was genuine, full of warmth and something more—something hopeful. He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his touch sending a shiver down her spine. “Sunday, after the race. Let me take you out. No galas, no crowds—just us.”

(Y/N) didn’t hesitate this time. “It’s a date.”

Nico’s eyes sparkled with satisfaction, and he took a step closer, his presence intoxicating, as he repeated his words from earlier, “I’ll hold you to that.”

As the night wrapped around them, the moment between them lingered—filled with the promise of something new, something that had been waiting to be reignited all along.

[atlasthegreatest]

The Super’s Bats / Stephanie Brown x Male Reader x Cassandra Cain

Headcanons about reader being in relationship with Stephanie and Cassandra aka The Sun and Moon duo.

A/n: This was requested by @fenrir-wolf-of-gotham I hope you like this, and sorry for the delay.

— How did they meet? —

They met at a charity gala in Metropolis, hosted by the Daily Planet. And this gala was attended by those considered to be of the highest profile and elite. And Bruce Wayne was one of them who showed up.

Bruce being Batman, uses this as an opportunity to gather information about the new criminal syndicate operating between Metropolis and Gotham and he brings Stephanie and Cassandra along with him as “associates” under the guise of being his new protégés to help with the reconnaissance.

Meanwhile, Clark Kent was there as Superman, keeping an eye out for any potential threats. And because he had caused such tremendous destruction while fighting a villain, Y/n was forced to be at that event by his father.

As she mingled, Stephanie noticed Y/n sneaking away from the crowd, looking rather lost and uncomfortable. Being naturally curious (and a bit mischievous), she followed him, thinking he might be up to something interesting. But then she found him on a balcony, staring up at the stars.

And Stephanie, ever the social butterfly, starts chatting with Y/n, making some light jokes to break the ice with the guy. And Y/n surprised but charmed by her energy, starts to relax and chat back.

Meanwhile, Cassandra, always on high alert, spots Stephanie sneaking out and follows her. She stays in the shadows, watching the interaction. As time passes, she quickly realizes that Y/n is not a threat, but she is curious as to why Stephanie seems to be so interested in him. But she keeps her distance from her, camouflaged among the shadows, until she notices a suspicious figure lurking nearby.

But just as Y/n and Stephanie begin to get comfortable, they hear a commotion inside. A group of armed men interrupts the party, clearly aiming to make a statement and attack the high-profile guests. Y/n's instinct is to spring into action, but he hesitates, unsure if he should reveal his powers in front of everyone. Stephanie, ever the impulsive one, is already thinking of how to take them down without blowing her cover.

Cassandra, sensing the threat, immediately disarms two of the intruders before they even realize what's going on. Stephanie joins in, coordinating attacks with Cassandra in a way that demonstrates the strong teamwork they've had over the years fighting together. Y/n, still in awe of their skills, realizes he needs to step it up as well. So he subtly uses his super breath to blow up a few weapons without drawing too much attention.

The three quickly found themselves fighting side-by-side, with Stephanie cracking jokes and telling wisecracks to keep the mood light, Cassandra moving like a silent shadow, and Y/n using his powers strategically without revealing his disguise. They made a surprisingly effective team.

After the whole situation was resolved, they found themselves on a rooftop, catching their breath. Y/n was impressed by Stephanie's quick thinking and Cassandra's incredible combat skills. He then formally introduced himself, a little shyly, as Y/n Kent.

Stephanie, recognizing the name, couldn't help but make a joke. "Ah, son of Superman. I knew you seemed too wholesome for Gotham." And Cassandra, who usually remains silent, surprised Y/n by offering a rare smile.

Y/n was intrigued by the two girls. Charmed by Stephanie’s bright energy and fascinated by Cassandra’s quiet intensity. He could feel a unique connection to them—something unlike anyone he had ever met before.

Stephanie quickly decided that Y/n wasn’t just “Superman’s son,” but someone worth getting to know. Cassandra, with her skilled instinct for reading people, sensed Y/n’s genuine kindness and curiosity, and she was drawn to the young man’s sincerity.

Before they parted ways, Y/n invited them to visit Metropolis for a while, saying he could show them the city from a different perspective. Stephanie, always enthusiastic, immediately accepted, while Cassandra gave a slight nod of agreement, already thinking about how their friendship could grow. And Y/n left with a new sense of excitement, realizing that this might be the start of something special.

From that day on, they began to see more of each other, meeting up in Metropolis or Gotham, occasionally teaming up on missions, and gradually building a deep connection that blossoms into romance over time.

— When did you start liking each other? —

Y/n first felt a spark for Cassandra. During their first meeting at the gala, Y/n was captivated by her skills and grace in battle. He is immediately drawn to her quiet strength and the way she communicates so much with just a look or a movement.

Over the next few weeks, he finds himself thinking about her more than often—her intense eyes, her precise movements, and the mysterious aura that surrounds her. He admires her from a distance, respecting her space and hoping to understand her better.

Cassandra has begun to notice Y/n’s interest in her, but she’s unsure of what to do. She’s not used to people being so open and genuine, and she finds his honesty and kindness disarming.

Over time, Y/n’s attempts to connect with her—showing interest in her passions, respecting her silence, and never pressuring her to talk when she’s not comfortable—begin to warm her heart. She appreciates that he’s never tried to change her and accepts her for who she is, quirks and all.

Stephanie, on the other hand, starts to warm to Y/n more gradually. Initially, she just sees him as a friend—someone fun to hang out with who brings a fresh perspective. She loves to tease him and make him blush, and she appreciates how he balances her out.

But as they continue to form a team, she begins to see more of his personality—his quiet strength, his empathy, and his willingness to go above and beyond for his friends and family. She finds herself increasingly charmed by his youthful innocence and unwavering optimism.

— Who fell in love first? —

Y/n is the next to fall for Stephanie. Her infectious energy, her ability to find the light in any situation, and her determination to be a hero despite her difficult past are all things he deeply admires. Stephanie makes him laugh, brings out his playful side, and helps him see the world in a new way. Y/n begins to realize that he likes her more than he initially thought—her warmth and resilience slowly win his heart.

Cassandra is the last to realize her feelings for Stephanie, but when she does, they hit her hard. Stephanie was everything Cassandra was not; expressive, outgoing, unapologetically herself. Cassandra found herself drawn to that bright energy, fascinated by how Stephanie could so effortlessly navigate social situations and connect with people.

More than that, she appreciates how Stephanie never treated her like she was broken; she always believed in her without hesitation, lifting her in ways Cassandra never expected. And over time, Cassandra realized that she wanted to be close to Stephanie, to protect her, and to be a part of her world.

Y/n was the first to fall in love first, though he didn’t realize it at first. His initial admiration for Cassandra quickly deepened into something more. He found himself doing little things to make her smile, going out of his way to learn more about the things she likes, and feeling a protective instinct around her. But he’s a little shy about it and worries that she might not feel the same way, and he didn’t say anything at first.

Cassandra is the second to realize her feelings. First for Y/n, and then more strongly, for Stephanie. She felt the two of them growing closer to her, and while at first, it was confusing and even a little overwhelming for her, she found herself enjoying their company more and more.

She became aware of her feelings when she noticed how her heart would beat whenever they were near and how she would instinctively move closer to them during fights or even in casual situations. Cassandra doesn’t realize these emotions right now, but she knows she wants them to stay.

Stephanie is the last to realize that she’s fallen in love. She sees Y/n as a great friend and a great older brother figure and Cassandra as a fellow warrior with whom she shares an endless bond.

However, as she spends more time with them, she begins to realize that her feelings go deeper than just friendship. One day, she finds herself feeling jealous when Y/n and Cassandra are training together, laughing and smiling, and then it hits her—she is in love with both of them. It comes as a surprise, but once she knows, she fully embraces her feelings.

— Who confesses first? —

All three.

During a particularly intense mission, the three are forced to confront their feelings. They had been working together so seamlessly, relying on each other without hesitation, that they could no longer deny their bond.

When Y/n is injured while protecting Cassandra, she and Stephanie realize how much they share with him, and when Cassandra silently expresses her concern, Y/n and Stephanie together understand just how deeply they have fallen for each other.

They finally talk about it—awkwardly at first, with a lot of stuttered words—but it ends with a mutual understanding that what they have is something special and worth exploring together. They decide to give their relationship a chance, knowing it’s not conventional, but it feels right for them all.

— What makes them argue? —

Most arguments stem from misunderstandings or differing approaches to situations.

For example, Y/n might suggest a more diplomatic or hopeful solution to a problem, while Cassandra prefers a direct, action-oriented approach. Stephanie often finds herself caught in the middle, trying to mediate but also having her own opinion about what should be done.

The other common trigger is when one of them takes a significant risk without consulting the other. Cassandra is often willing to put herself in harm’s way to protect her loved ones, which can anger Y/n and Stephanie, who hate to see her in danger.



Similarly, Stephanie's impulsive decisions might worry Y/n and Cassandra, while Y/n's tendency to hold on to his power for fear of causing collateral damage might frustrate his more pragmatic partners.

— What do they do when they fight? —

Cassandra tends to withdraw into herself when she’s upset. She is not used to verbal arguments and finds them too tiring. She withdraws from others, seeking solitude to clear her mind. She does not want to lash out in anger, so she chooses to just stay silent.

Stephanie is more vocal. She is used to arguing and having to stand her ground. She may say things in the heat of the moment that she never thought she would. However, she is also the one most likely to go after Cassandra when she withdraws, not wanting the distance to grow too large.

Y/n, on the other hand, hates conflict. Especially in their relationship. He tries to resolve things quickly, often wanting to talk right away. He is the first to apologize, even if he does not fully understand why the argument happened. He tends to overthink things, wondering if he did something wrong or if he failed to understand Cassandra and Stephanie's perspective.

— What do they do after a fight? —

After a fight, the three of them need some time to process their emotions. Y/n would often retreat to the skies or an open field to think and regain his calm.

Cassandra might train in solitude or disappear into the shadows of Gotham, using physical activity to ground herself.

Stephanie tends to space out, mumbling to herself or venting to an understanding friend like Barbara or even Alfred.

Cassandra is usually the first to initiate reconciliation, but not in words. She will do something small but meaningful—like leaving Y/n’s favorite comic book on his doorstep or bringing Stephanie her favorite coffee. She doesn’t know how to articulate her feelings, but she knows how to show them through her actions.

Y/n usually makes the first verbal attempt at reconciliation. He approaches Cassandra and Stephanie with an open heart, apologizing if he’s been too pushy or not understanding enough. He will try to express how much he values ​​their perspectives, even if he doesn’t always agree with them.

Stephanie, on the other hand, is the one who lightens the mood. After some time of calming down, she will tell a joke, or something stupid to break the tension. She is good at reading the room and knowing when it is appropriate to make a joke. She would say something like, “Are we done brooding, or should I officially call a Bat-Family Brood-Off?”

After resolving their fight, they often end up cuddling together. Cassandra, who usually doesn’t initiate any contact, might take Y/n’s hand or lean on Stephanie’s shoulder, letting them know she is there, always there for them.

Y/n, who loved being around them, felt relaxed once he knew they were on the same page again. And Stephanie, the one who often keeps them together, felt content knowing they could work through anything.

They often make lighthearted references to their past fights, using them as inside jokes to show that they’ve moved on from them. Stephanie might say, “Remember the time Y/n almost flew into space just because we couldn’t agree on pizza toppings?” and they laugh, knowing that they’ve grown stronger.

— Bonus —

Since Cassandra is most comfortable with body language, she bonds with Y/n over their mutual love for physical training and martial arts. Y/n, being half Kryptonian, has a natural strength advantage, but Casandra is far more skilled.

Their sparred sessions are a form of communicating and trust-building; Cassandra appreciates Y/n's gentleness, and Y/n loves how Cassy pushes him to new limits.

Stephanie brings out Y/n's adventurous side. She loves to drag him along on spontaneous dates, like late-night city rooftop hooping, breaking into abandoned places just for fun, or sneaking into Gotham's weirdest events.

Y/n provides a sense of calm and comfort to both Stephanie and Cassandra. He's the one they turn to when they need a listening ear or a shoulder to lean on. He helps Cassandra with her social anxiety and encourages her to express herself in whatever way feels right, while he's always ready to help Stephanie unwind after a rough day with quiet moments of support and understanding.

They all share a love for stargazing, particularly Y/n. He often takes Cassandra and Stephanie to secluded spots away from the city lights ( or even up in the sky, using his powers) to watch the stars.

He tells them stories about constellations, Krypton, and his father's adventures, which both girls find fascinating. It's their shared moment of peace and connection, away from the chaos of hero life.

They respect each other's need for quiet time, especially Cassandra, who often enjoys sitting by the window with a book or meditating in a quiet corner. Y/n might read alongside her, enjoying the peace, while Stephanie could be on her laptop, working on a project, or catching up on social media. Sometimes, they just sit together in comfortable silence, each doing their own thing but feeling connected by their shared space.

[cassiachales]

Journal Entry One [And A Hot Grayson Hawthorne And Xander Being A Good Friend]

Saturday– Listen. I am not someone who hates people as soon as I have one conversation with them. (Or maybe I am, but that’s not the point.) I have never met someone as infuriatingly calm and poised as Grayson Motherfucking Hawthorne. He’s too perfect, too cold. I imagine his mom gave birth to him after having sex with a very handsome statue. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Charity galas were oftentimes the most boring events.

Though, if you’re being honest, most of these events are boring. It’s just people trying to either one-up each other, or trying to kiss ass.

Or, a secret third option, applicable only if you’re Grayson Hawthorne: watch the show with a cold look and avoid small talk.

Basically, be a statue.

When everyone’s dancing, he’s just standing there, his lips smiling whenever someone comes and talks to him and his eyes bored.

It’s no surprise that you don’t really like him, seeing how there’s no life in that six foot frame covered by the most expensive suits and a glass of whiskey in his hand which he doesn’t sip from. 

And meanwhile, you’re dancing. You’re enjoying yourself because you, ma’am, are not a statue.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I thought, well, maybe he’s lonely and has no friends, how about I talk to him?! Mistake of the year.  He is hot. But he is also the only guy in the gala, in every gala I’ve attended, who’s made me want to strangle him. Fuck him. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

So you walked towards him, because maybe, just maybe, he’s lonely, and maybe, just maybe, he has no friends. A rude assumption, but hey, isn’t that how you’re supposed to roll?

You stand beside him, looking at him stare down a couple on the dance floor. 

You knew them, yes, but not personally. Just a few quick google searches and a few tabloids and newspapers.

The girl was a living Cinderella story and the boy was her Prince Charming.

Avery Kylie Grambs, and Jameson Hawthorne.

“So…” You began, nudging his side. Your dress is a bit too loose and threatens to slip, but you quickly adjust it with your other hand.

Curse the world. Why were you about to have a wardrobe malfunction while talking to a hot guy?

“Do I know you?” Grayson asked, his eyebrow raised. 

Oh gods, his voice. It sounded so seductive that if you were hearing his voice on a movie screen, you would’ve swooned along with every girl (and a few boys) in the theatre.

“Well, not really.” You tell him your name and his eyes gleam in recognition after listening to your last name, and to be honest, you’re a little annoyed that your first name isn’t that “well-known”.

“Is there anything you wanted to speak about?” He asks, and you can see his patience wearing thin.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── Like, okay man, you’re hot as fuck. So hot, that I’d kiss you if I was drunk enough. And trust me, I’m a lightweight. But seriously? You’re so goddamn emotionless that it makes me feel like I’m talking to character ai instead of a living, breathing billionaire. Maybe you should like, consider buying a nice personality the next time you buy another suit. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

“Oh, nothing important.” You wave a dismissive hand, and, you assume, if he was less of a statue and more of a person, he would’ve rolled his eyes.

“Then, if you’ll excuse me.” He flashes you a polite smile, before pausing and adjoining a ‘miss’ to your last name as an afterthought.

And then, he walks away.

You don’t know what to make of this. Your dress is threatening to expose your cleavage with how loose it is, and it’s strapless on top of that, and the guy who you wanted to talk to, to maybe help throw a little life in his life, just walked away as though being lively is an afterthought, just like how he said your last name.

You feel someone tap your shoulder and when you turn around to see who it is, a flute of champagne is pushed into your hands.

Xander Hawthorne smiles that smile of his, the kind you can’t describe. You’re sort of like good friends with Xander, seeing how he’s the least stuck-up Hawthorne you’ve met.

The only other one was Grayson Hawthorne, but it’s not like there’s any life in his body.

“I saw you talking to Gray, came over to save you from a dull conversation, then saw how annoyed you looked after he left, and got you some champagne. Man, I deserve a friend-of-the-year award. So, what were you two talking about?”

He has nothing in his hands, but you trust him enough to take a sip of the bubbly champagne before you inevitably fall into a rant about how annoyingly maddening Grayson is.

“Does your brother even live? Like yes, maybe he doesn’t like small talk, and yes, maybe he’s a bad dancer–”

“He’s actually a pro at the tango and the waltz.”

You stare at Xander. “He does not strike me as the type to tango.”

He shrugged. “I don’t look like I make random things on Saturdays, but here I am, making random things on Saturdays.” He frowns, and corrects himself. “Unless I’m at an event, obviously.”

“Obviously. Anyway, does he even wear anything other than custom suits? I get that suits are hot, and your brother is hot–”

“You find my brother hot?” Xander says, a laugh threatening to escape him.

You groan. “Forget I said that.”

“Oh, no. We are not moving past that.”

“Xander, you will shut up, or–”

“Or, what?”

You’re silent.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── I might have also accidentally told Xander that I find Grayson hot. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

You see Xander’s face shift, and gods, do you know that look.

“Xander, no. Whatever you’re planning, no.” You say, but you fear it’s too late.

He taps your shoulder twice, your sign for ‘don’t worry, I got this’, and you have a fair idea of what, exactly, Xander Hawthorne is planning.

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── If I was smart, I’d never befriend a Hawthorne and call his brother hot. Unfortunately, I am not smart. Now, I don’t know what Xander’s planning, and honestly? I’m scared it has something to do with a certain Grayson Hawthorne. ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Journal Entry Two

[pastelwitchling]

Ok so funny thought/ prompt whatever

Imagine Michael finding out that on one of the trips Alex and Kyle have done (deep sky, season 1 whatever) they shared a bed

It's totally innocent but not to Michael

And isobel would love it cause come on Alex and Kyle that close together is just visually so pleasing

@brittz-2123

***

Michael loved his bed. That wasn’t something he’d ever considered before he’d met Alex, but now his bed was a safe haven, a place of comfort and warmth and love. It was his favorite part of their home because going to bed meant falling into his husband’s embrace, his arms around Alex as he was either soothed into sleep, or soothing Alex into sleep – both of which he loved.

He loved knowing that no one could comfort Alex like he could, that when he tugged on Alex’s arm and led him to their bedroom, Alex relented like he did for no one else.

“Okay, okay,” he’d sigh and smile in that way that he did whenever he couldn’t resist giving Michael what he wanted, and he would nuzzle Michael’s neck and curl in close and everything would be okay because they were both there and together and safe and warm.

It was on such a morning, their chests pressed together, Alex breathing softly against Michael’s collarbone and Michael’s fingers trailing lazily up and down his spine, that their peace was interrupted with a knock at the door.

Michael groaned, and Alex chuckled sleepily.

“Stay here, baby,” he murmured, his lips brushing Michael’s neck, “I’ll get it.”

“Don’t you dare move,” he argued, squeezing Alex close until he stopped squirming. When Alex gave up with giggles, Michael smiled and gently kissed his brow. He unwillingly let go, and grabbed Alex’s Air Force T-shirt and pulled it on. “I’ll go get rid of ‘em.”

“You don’t even know who it is yet,” Alex grinned into his pillow.

“It’s seven in the morning, babe,” he said, running a hand through his curls. “I don’t need to know who it is.”

Michael’s body was already cold from the loss of his husband’s touch, the knock coming again. He opened the door, and his groan turned up in full force.

Kyle rolled his eyes, shouldering his way past Michael, a takeout bag in his hands. “Is Alex awake? We have to hit the road soon and I got us breakfast.”

Michael’s eye twitched. It had been doing that since Alex had first told him that he would be accompanying Kyle in Isobel’s place to the doctors’ convention in Albuquerque. Damn his sister for her emergency fundraising gala problems. Of course her biggest event of the year had to have an issue that only she could fix, and since it was for charity, what was Michael supposed to say? ‘No, you have to go with your fiancé to his convention so my husband doesn’t’? He couldn’t whine like that. Out loud.

“He actually changed his mind,” Michael smirked, crossing his arms and leaning his hip against the couch. “Just forgot to tell you. Sorry.”

“Mhm,” Kyle set the bag down, giving Michael a dry smile, and called down the hall, “Alex, it’s me!”

“Okay, give me a minute and we can go!” Alex called back, and Michael’s shoulders fell.

“I hate you so much,” he told Kyle.

“I disagree,” Kyle said, opening the bag and pulling out a few cinnamon rolls, triple-chocolate fudge muffins, and bottles of lemonade. “I think you’re secretly warming up to me.”

“I think you’re as delusional as always,” Michael said. “I don’t know how much you’d appreciate the guy who takes you out of bed with your spouse, but –”

“Ah,” he nodded, busy with the food. “Well, I can see why you’re so pissy, Alex gets very sweet in bed.”

Michael opened his mouth to retort when his brain caught up with his ears. He stared. “Say that again?”

“I said you’re right,” he shrugged a shoulder and sniffed. “Alex gets all cuddly and warm and rosy-cheeked when you get into bed with him –”

“And how the hell do you know how my husband gets in bed?”

“We used to be on the road a lot for Project Shepherd?” Kyle said like it was obvious, and if he could sense Michael’s gradually increased seething, he didn’t show it. “We shared a few beds, Guerin.”

Michael’s eye started twitching and didn’t stop. “You what?”

“Oh come on,” he rolled his eyes. “You know how bad his nightmares get, should I have left him alone?”

“You shouldn’t have gotten into bed with him!”

Kyle gave a long-suffering sigh, and looked back into the hall. “Alex, your husband’s about to blow, can you hurry it up?”

“Blow about what?” came Alex’s muffled voice.

Michael growled and stomped back to their bedroom. “YOU AND VALENTI SHARED A BED?!”

“Ohhh,” Alex, in the middle of buttoning his shirt in their bathroom mirror, nodded. “That.”

“THAT?!”

“Michael,” Alex said calmly, “the cabinet.”

Michael realized he was making the cabinet levitate off the ground, and with a jerk of his wrist, it fell back to the ground with a heavy thud. “Why didn’t you tell me you and Kyle shared a freaking bed?”

“We weren’t even together then,” Alex shrugged, and Michael thought he wasn’t nearly as abashed about this as he should’ve been.

“If you really think there was ever a time you didn’t belong to me,” Michael argued, “then you’re seriously underestimating my attachment to you.”

Alex smiled and blushed, still fixing his hair. “Aww, baby . . .”

“STOP TALKING TO ME LIKE I’M JUST BEING CUTE!”

“You’re always cute.”

Traitorous, unwanted warmth rose up the back of his neck and tried to deter his anger. “The bed, Alex,” he tried desperately to cling to his fury. “The bed. Is nothing sacred?!”

Alex bit his lower lip in an attempt to keep his smile from widening. It wasn’t working. Curse Michael’s love for that smile because the more amused Alex became, the deeper his blush, the harder it was to be angry.

“Just tell me one thing,” Michael said with as much solemnity as he could manage in the face of Alex’s giddiness. Taking a shuddering breath, he braced himself and asked, “Did you guys cuddle?”

Alex burst into laughter. “I might’ve cuddled up to him while I was asleep, I’m not going to lie –”

“Alex!”

“— only because I was imagining that it was you.”

Michael fell silent, but Alex was still smiling at him like he was the most adorable thing in the world.

“For my scariest nightmares,” he said softly, “nothing calmed me down like the idea of you holding me. And Kyle knew that. Every time he held me, he told me to just pretend it was you. That you were there with your arms around me, keeping me safe. Nothing else would help, Michael. Nothing.”

Michael stared, heart pounding and his thoughts muddled. Alex finished dressing, took Michael’s hands in his, and kissed his fingers like he revered every inch of the cowboy that he could get. “And now I’m with the real you in bed every night. I’m living the dream.”

Michael’s shoulders fell, and he swallowed. “Baby . . .”

Alex tilted his head. “Are you going to be okay here for a few days? If it really makes you uncomfortable, I won’t go. Kyle will understand.”

“I’m never comfortable when you’re out of my sight,” he said instinctively, and sighed, “but . . . I guess . . . I can . . . make an exception, just this once.”

Alex chuckled, undoubtedly sensing Michael’s hesitance behind every word. “You’re sure?”

Michael groaned and folded Alex into his arms. “Yeah, baby, I’m sure. Just . . .” he squeezed Alex tighter and grumbled, “if you have a nightmare, call me, okay? You don’t need anyone else to pretend anymore.”

He felt Alex’s smile against the crook of his neck. “Good. Nothing compares anyway.”

***

Happy Belated Malex Monday ❤️ It's good to be back 🥰

[a-very-tired-jew]

You want celebrities to do what? You overestimate their power.

One of the common things we've seen in this conflict is the conspiracy that Israel plans its actions around events in the USA. We saw this back during the Super Bowl, and we're now seeing it again regarding the Met Gala. It's such a USA centric point of view that anyone prescribing to this notion can honestly be disregarded. However, one of the things I have seen from these activists is that they want to celebrities who attended the Met to use their vast fortunes and celebrity status/power for the sake of Gaza. It goes without saying that they have far more donation potential than a lot of us. But that's not what I've been seeing in these spaces... I have seen activists call for these celebrities to evacuate Gazans through use of their money and status, and I have to ask: How? Do you seriously think Cardi B can negotiate with Israel, Hamas, Egypt, Qatar, and all the other political powers involved to evacuate the civilians caught up in this war? Do you think Taylor Swift can organize evacuation corridors? Do you think any of these Met Gala attending celebrities in their New York high fashion outfits has the ability to enter into geopolitics on their own as a separate entity, organize some sort of action, and not garner the attention of the government who they may or may not have worked with to do so? Seriously, consider what you're asking for just a second. Celebrities can use their platforms to bring attention to issues, assist charities in some capacity, and get involved with various organizations. But if you think they have the ability to wade into the realm of geopolitics and impact them as a serious party? Then you're living in a fantasy and are a very unserious person.

[permafrown]

"essays" in question btw in regards to Irene + Irene/Jonathan 👇 they're very informal bc I just copied and pasted my own messages LMAO

ABOUT IRENE:

SO THIS IS MY SILLY BILLY IRENE CHURCHILL aka "The Undertaker" !!

Their whole thing is that they moved to Gotham, right.. initially being from the Midwest and so they're there as an Embalmer for the GCPD. They end up picking up a side gig as a body disposal service for Gotham's criminal underbelly just like. Completely by accident. They did it once for Penguin but after that it's what they became Known For and like they'd get shady mfs at their door like. 🕴️ we got a job for ya and they're like. 😔 I guess this is what I do now ⚰

They don't kill anybody they just take care of a deed that's already been done, in exchange for money and favors they can cash in. They consider themselves a "Modern-Day Charon" bc of the morbid but neutral role they play.

EVENTUALLY they decide they want to do a little more with themselves and one thing leads to another and . . . they get into experimenting w/ reanimating corpses specifically after modifying a sample of Jonathan's fear toxin into what they call Vie (short for Vie a la Mort bc they're fake french). It bites them in the ass and they die and then are brought back with their own creation and now they're The Cooler Irene

ABOUT IRENE AND JONATHAN:

if I were to like generalize instead of basing it around pre-existing comics .. I'd say Irene and Jonathan probably met at something like a gala/charity event that Gotham University was hosting and members of the GCPD were invited to including Irene bc Jim Gordon was like. We have got to get you out of that morgue and socializing spending all that time around dead bodies isn't good for you. And they're just like. Ok 😗���

SO THEY MEET JON AT THIS PARTY that they're both like half-heartedly attending for one reason or another. and they're like wowww.. this guy's weird (twirling hair). Theyre talking to eachother getting along well. And well since Irene doesn't know abt Scarecrow and (at this point) Jon doesn't know about Undertaker they're both just kinda thinking to themselves - this guy's definitely hiding something.

SO IT'S THIS STUPID LIKE. ROMCOM ASS DEVELOPMENT of them gradually spending more and more time around eachother falling in-love in the process being in denial about it ETC

and then one Halloween. Irene's first Halloween in Gotham there's a fall festival that Jonathan had invited Irene to and they're like oh hell yeah. They dress as a plague doctor with a small twist that ends up saving their ass (the mask actually functions as a mask) so they go and they're waiting for Jonathan just chillin and then BOOM there's a scarecrow attack and everything's in shambles around 'em there's people screaming and what not. Except for Irene who like in the midst of it all sees Scarecrow and their ass FALLS IN-LOVE thinking he's just a scare actor

They just kinda go home after like wow what a wild night lol. and then they hear police sirens outside at where the festival was and they're like . I'm starting to think that whole ordeal wasn't part of the festivities.

SO they see a news segment talking about a scarecrow attack and they're like scarecrow.... AND they rmbr how they hadn't seen Jonathan that night and it's not like him to no-show esp not when he made the plans so they're connecting the dots like . . . Uh oh 😨 ( <- experiencing heart palpitations but brother it's not fear)

SO THEY JUST. HAVE TO GO ON PRETENDING THEY DONT KNOW SHIT LIKE ahh damn jonathan shame I didnt see you last night. Yeah no I wasn't even there I had to feed my fish.

AND THENNNNN as Undertaker they have scarecrow as a client once and they're normal about it. like maybe he doesn't know. and then it happens again shortly after but this time they're like 🤨 this body you want gone isn't even fresh man the rove beetles are getting to it it's been out for atleast a week and Scarecrow's like. How would you know that if you weren't involved in the forensics or perhaps even mortuary field. Irene. and they're like FUUUUCK 😭

SO THAT'S HOW HE FINDS OUT BC HE SET THEM UP and then they take off eachother's masks/veil and it's all tense and they kiss sloppy style THE END

[devilrosola]

Book Bound

This was inspired from a scene of RP I've been doing with Ja'far from the Magi Madness discord server. When I got the prompt "Library" I thought of this cute scene of them reading a book together on a couch, so here's a bit of that Modern Day Corporation AU~

~*~

It was a chance meeting: a Gala raising funds for charities. His brother had instructed him to network while there, but Kouen didn’t imagine he’d find someone so appealing while attempting to mingle. Something about Ja’far caught his eye and the more he learned of him, the more interested he became. They met up after the event, grabbed a bite at a cafe, worked side by side on their laptops at the park in the dark, and eventually ended up with Ja’far taking Kouen to his home so they could spar for a bit.

After spending the night, he had woken up to a delicious breakfast. Things were so pleasant, he proposed they start dating, which Ja’far accepted. This was new territory for both and Kouen still had a few hours until he needed to be at the airport.

“Let’s do something fun before I go.” As they cleaned up breakfast, Kouen eagerly waited to learn what his new boyfriend considered fun.

But then the question was turned right back at him. “Fun? What did you have in mind?”

“Oh…um…read a book together?” Kouen fumbled as his mind raced over what he enjoyed, and the hours he could spend reading history was the first thing that popped into his head. “...or…we could hit a museum or any of your favorite local places. There’s also the workout room and pool back at my hotel…” the one he was originally going to stay in before meeting Ja’far. “Or we can stay here and spar some more…” He smiled at his perceived smooth recovery and even managed to end his sentence with a coy wink.

Ja’far stared at Kouen for a moment before a chuckle parted from his lips. “I wouldn’t mind enjoying a book together. That sounds rather nice.”

The visitor’s crimson eyes darted to where he recalled seeing the living room before in this quaint abode. He imagined a couch or recliner for them to get comfortable on. “A book it is then. Do you have any recommendations?”

“Kouen, first I just need to tell you something. The moments we have shared…it is unlike anything I’ve experienced. I appreciate that it was with you.” Ja’far smiled gently as he took Kouen’s hand to lead him to his personal collection of books.

It was reciprocated with a firm but gentle grasp by a man hoping the fluster wasn’t so visible on his face. Kouen was at a loss of words from this confession, even though he felt the same way. “T-th…I…ahem…” He curled the fingers of his free hand around his mouth as he cleared his throat with solemnly closed eyes. “To have many more such experiences with you in the future would bring me great joy.”

Arriving at the home library, Kouen opened his eyes to see the selection of books. Many various non-fiction filled the shelves, indicating someone who valued facts. There were also some historical fictions that Kouen’s eyes zeroed in on. Many familiar titles and renowned authors.

His finger rubbed along the top of one, tempted to pull it out. “Oh. I’ve been meaning to read this one…”

Ja’far gently pulled the book out as soon as he heard Kouen’s interest. Silver strands of the calligraphed title contrasted beautifully against the dark brown canvas cover.

“This one it is then. I’ve never had the pleasure to actually finish it.” 

“Try not to give any spoilers,” Kouen hummed.

Ja’far directed him to a comfortable two cushion sofa in the living room. “Is here okay?”

Kouen’s hand ran along the green plaid blanket draped over the couch before sitting down to test it. Then with a smirk, he grabbed Ja’far’s wrist and pulled him onto his lap. Sideways at first, but Ja’far opted to turn and lean his back against Kouen’s chest.

He sat the book on his lap and delicately fingered the edge of the cover, savoring the moment before starting an adventure together. It would be easy to lose track of the outside world once started, so Ja’far checked, “Did you leave anything at your hotel room last night? You have time to read, but did you want to check back at the hotel?”

He had only brought the essentials for this short trip, so it was easy to gather all his things the night before. He was pretty sure everything was accounted for. Confidently, Kouen rested a hand on the slender shoulder as the book opened to the preface. “If I forgot anything, I could just buy another.” He nuzzled his chin into Ja’far’s neck. “I’d rather spend this time holding you.”

This made Ja’far’s body quiver, the closeness and attentiveness was endearing. “Of course…” Subtly, he bit his lower lip as he turned the pages to the beginning of the story.

Their height difference was perfect to allow both of them a view of the pages in this position. Ja’far started reading out loud until Kouen cut him off after a few paragraphs, giving them alternating turns to read and listen to the dulcet tones of the other’s voice. Occasionally there were side comments, with them sharing their thoughts or knowledge together. They were swept away by the contents within this magical book. It was all so comfortable and at the same time, mentally stimulating.

Every brush of one’s fingers against the other’s while turning pages sent tingling sensations up their backs. Their breaths wavered at each little squeeze, wondering how things could have gone so right for them. How unexpectedly they found their perfect match and came together as cozily as two jigsaw puzzle pieces.

Surely there must be a way to prolong their time together? Maybe Kouen could get to the airport later and V.I.P. his way through security? Or maybe his plane would be delayed? His eyes scanned across the words as Ja’far read them aloud, but his mind kept going back to the earlier confession: A unique experience, and was glad it was with him. As he wanted more, less awkward words formulated in his mind. When Ja’far finished to allow Kouen a turn, the latter squeezed his arms around the former’s waist and rested his chin on the other’s shoulder.

“These past dozen or so hours have been incredible, Thank you,” Kouen purred sincerely.

The hairs on the back of Ja’far’s neck stood upon the words that graced his ears while his entire face went red. Trying to calm his own nerves of excitement, Ja’far cleared his throat and humbly stated, “You…need not thank me for anything…”

Kouen hummed encouragingly, insisting Ja’far was worth the praise. Still, he settled back into reading out loud: such dramatic authority in his voice to compliment the author’s tone in the current scene.

After some time, they arrived at the last page of the third chapter. Upon finishing the page, the way Kouen’s hand glided over Ja’far’s was more of a caress. Seeing as it was getting late and a convenient stopping point arrived, he gently pushed the book down.

His other hand slid up Ja’far’s arm as he teased amusingly into his ear, “You should fly back with me. If nothing else, so we can finish this story together.”

Ja’far’s breath hitches, those words nothing but enticing to him. He placed a mark in the book before closing it with the intention to keep his focus strictly on Kouen. “As…amazing as that would be…I am needed here…”

“Of course,” a disappointed sigh escaped Kouen’s lips, temporarily easing his hold on the other. “Your company is lucky to have such a dedicated employee.” His arm snaked up Ja’far’s side and fingers stroked under the pale chin, urging them to make eye contact.

“You think so, hm?” Ja’far’s gaze fixated on Kouen, his pale cheeks tinted crimson.

It would be a lie if he said he did not desire someone so dedicated. “I know so.” Kouen then urged Ja’far closer for a kiss.

Ja’far indulged by pressing his lips to Kouen’s. Setting the book on the empty cusion, he shifted to more fully embrace this affection as one kiss became two and then more.  The pale fingers started twirling the red locks around them. Kouen’s arms supported the body on his lap. Every caressing touch was electrifying.

Amid the pleasant smiles, Ja’far breathed, “Kouen…”

“Ja’far?” Kouen breathed as he pulled the other closer into him.

“We shouldn’t get carried away. I don’t want to be the reason you’re late…” His dark green eyes gazed at Kouen with a hint of sadness. “It’s time to go.”

Longingly, Kouen gave one last caress on that freckled cheek. “Of course.” Sad as it was, he couldn’t help but admire the other’s responsibility.

[smkkbert]

Time for a story - Tougher than the rest

“Felicity, can you help me with my-“

Stepping into the door between their bedroom and the adjacent bathroom, Oliver stopped dead in his tracks. All thoughts about his bowtie that just refused to look as perfect as it should be, faded away instantly. Actually, he felt like he should be undressing instead of getting dressed now. His fingertips were itching with the need to unbutton his shirt and pants and just toss the clothes to the floor.

Felicity was standing in front of the mirror, trying to zip the back of her dark green velvet dress. It was an off-shoulder dress with a shoulder volant and a tight-fitting cut. The hem reached down to her knees. With the pinned updo that left only some loose curls of her hair to fall down on her shoulders, her delicate neck was accentuated.

All of her – from the color of her dress, his color, to the strained expression on her face at her inability to zip the back of her dress – made him want to take off his clothes. Before he could do so, Felicity’s eyes met his in the mirror, and she cocked her head in that scolding manner that made the corners of his lips twitch mischievously.

“Don’t even think about doing anything but zipping my dress,” Felicity told him stern voice despite the sparkle of humor in her eyes, “because we are already running late it is.”

Oliver pushed the tongue against the inside of his cheek, crossed the distance towards Felicity and zipped her dress as slowly as possible. His fingertips grazed against the soft skin of her back as he did so. His eyes were locked with hers in the mirror.

“I could think about better things to do than going to that charity gala,” he whispered into her ear, his breath eliciting goosebumps on her skin, “can’t you?”

Felicity turned around, cocked her head and perked up her eyebrows. “Can I think about anything better than going to that charity event, a charity event we are hosting by the way, and meet Chris Evans? Hell no.”

Oliver scrunched up his nose. He considered reminding her that the city was hosting this event, but the thought of meeting Chris Evans tonight just outweighed everything else. For a moment, he had suppressed that fact after he had thought about barely anything else since he had been informed that actor Chris Evans was actually coming to that gala tonight. Thinking about it again now, he felt his vexation growing back again.

“I still think that this entire thing is stupid.” He pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants and turned around to Felicity, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and putting on her shoes. “A Green Arrow movie? It’s-“

“-inspiring.”

“I was going to go with ridiculous or stupid or dangerous.”

Felicity smiled softly, but Oliver just frowned and crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Two weeks ago, he was called by a production company that wanted to work with him to make a movie about the Green Arrow. His first answer had been a hard no because he really wasn’t interested in a movie like that. His family was already too much in the interest of the media and the public as it was.

When he had told John about rejecting the production company, he had warned him that they might make a movie about it anyway and that movie could be entirely wrong and even let the viewers get wrong ideas. Vigilantism and heroism was a sensitive topic, especially with how newly accepted they were.

Oliver had gone back and forth with the idea. Eventually, he had called the production company and made an appointment to meet the producer. His ideas hadn’t sounded too bad, so Oliver had agreed to work out a deal that he could actually agree with. Laurel had helped with the legal stuff and Thea had decided to actively work in the production team, so they would get the important stuff right.

Although he had ultimately agreed to the movie, Oliver couldn’t say that he was entirely convinced of it. He had his doubts even now because seeing his life on a big screen felt wrong. Besides, even though the production team had committed itself to true storytelling with Thea having the right to interpose her veto, Oliver doubted that his story, the team’s story or his family’s story could be told in a movie. Even with excess length, how long could the movie be? Three hours?

With her shoes on her feet, Felicity got up, strolled over to him and wrapped her arms around his waist. She rested her chin on his chest and looked at his face.

“Everything will be fine. We will go to this event to celebrate the new Green Arrow Law where I will be flirting with Chris Evans for a bit before we will go home. And in a couple of months, we will go to the premier of the movie together.”

Oliver puckered his lips, wrapping his arms around Felicity’s shoulders and dipping his head down, so his forehead touched hers. He let her presence calm him down and relax him. He could almost feel the tension leaving his shoulders when he let out a long sigh.

“You forgot something.”

“Really?” Felicity asked, closing her eyes and letting out a sigh of her own. “What did I forget?”

“The hot sex we will have on our way home.”

“On our way home?” Felicity chuckled, throwing her head back. “Someone is feeling very honeymoon-y today.”

“I don’t remember us having sex in the back of a limousine on our honeymoon.”

“True.” Felicity grinned. “It might be the only place we didn’t have sex in our-“

“Gross.”

Snapping his head around, Oliver found William standing in the door with his nose scrunched up and an expression of disgust on his face. Oliver bit his tongue, while Felicity blushed.

“William,” he hurried to say then, clearing his throat, “I didn’t hear you.”

“Which you should have,” Felicity whispered, “or are you too old for ninja senses?”

Oliver pinched Felicity’s side playfully. She giggled under her breath before she stepped out of his arms and turned back to the mirror, so she could put on her earrings.

“I just wanted to let you know that the limousine is already waiting for you.”

“Thanks.” Oliver nodded his head. “We’ll be down in a minute. Are you sure you don’t want to join us?”

“Absolutely.” William’s face told Oliver that his son had never been surer of anything. “I’ll stay here and have a fun night with my siblings. I’ll show them all the good movies of my childhood.”

“They are going to love it.” Felicity grabbed her purse, stepped to William and kissed his cheek. “We are always happy when you use your weekends to visit us rather than hang out with your friends. And your siblings love it too.”

“So do I.” He shrugged his shoulders. “I can still go partying next week or whenever. Tonight, I am happy to spend time with the kids.”

Felicity shot him another smile before she turned back to Oliver briefly. “I’ll just check on Mia once more before I go down and make sure the kids have everything.”

“I’ll be right behind you.”

While Felicity was leaving already, Oliver pushed his hands into the pockets of his pants once more and strolled over to William. Just like Felicity had told William before, Oliver was quite happy to have his oldest son home this often too. When he had chosen to study at the other end of the US, Oliver had feared that they might grow apart like most kids and their parents did at least temporarily from time to time. He was glad to know that it wasn’t like that at all.

“Are you sure you are getting along alone with the kids? Raisa offered to stay home from her-“

William shook his head. “I’ve always gotten along well with the little ones, so no need for any help. Half of them is going to be fast asleep before ten anyway.”

“True.” Oliver chuckled. “But in case anything happens or you just feel like you’ve had enough or whatever, you-“

“-will definitely not call you and cut Felicity’s time with Chris Evans short. I could never be that desperate.”

Oliver puckered his lips. “She told you about Chris Evans?”

“In all details.” William grinned. “I guess you would like for her time with him to be cut short?”

Oliver huffed. “I’m above such things. I mean why would I care about Christ Evans and – yeah, I wish she wouldn’t run into him at all.”

William chuckled. “It’s fun watching you two, you know? It’s one of the reasons I like to come here.”

“Thanks.” Oliver smiled. “I’m glad to hear that.”

A brief moment of silence passed as they seemed to be bonding without saying a word. Their relationship hadn’t started easily. They had missed out on a lot of time together, and Oliver had already had Emmy and Tommy when William had joined the family. Somehow, it had just worked out nonetheless. It had worked out even better than Oliver could have ever expected. He didn’t really understand it, but he was glad that things were just like that.

“Why don’t we go to Big Belly Burgers tomorrow for lunch before you go back to Boston?” Oliver asked. “We could… catch up…”

“Sure.” William smiled, nodding his head. “Sounds great. Besides, I-“

Oliver heard quick footsteps coming down the hallway, and a moment later, Millie appeared in the doorframe. She was already in her fleecy pajamas, her dark curls framing her heart-shaped face.

“Mommy says you need to hurry, or she’s gonna do things to you. It didn’t sound like it was going to be nice things.”

“Mom wants to see Chris Evans,” William said, wiggling his eyebrows towards Oliver, “so you should indeed hurry.”

“Chris Evans is looking yummy.”

Oliver frowned, looking at his five-year-old daughter. “Yummy?”

Millie shrugged her shoulders. “Emmy said it.”

“You have all conspired against me.”

Oliver tousled Millie’s hair before he went past her out of the bedroom. William picked up Millie and followed him downstairs where Felicity was already waiting for him.

“There you are, Mister,” she said, narrowing her eyes on him, “and I was thinking that you were trying to play for time.”

“I wouldn’t dare to.”

Oliver grabbed Felicity’s coat from the wardrobe and helped her getting into it before he grabbed his own coat and put it on. Doing so, he stepped into the doorframe towards the living room and shot a look at the kids. William and Millie had already joined Emmy, Tommy and Addie on the couch where they were tucked under blankets between bowls of snacks and a snoring Yumi as well as Hawk, who had stretched out on the couch. William had brought them to increase everyone’s enthusiasm about his favorite childhood movies.

“We will go now,” he said, “so William’s in charge. William, if anything is going on-“

“-he already know not to call us,” Felicity ended his sentence.

Oliver sighed. Why did he deserve that?

William chuckled. “I have all the security numbers, know all there is to know about the security system and it’s not the first time I am alone with all of my siblings.”

“Besides, we are not babies anymore,” Tommy added, “well, except for Millie, but she’s asleep already.”

“You have everything under control,” Felicity said, grabbing Oliver’s hand, “perfect. We will go now. Have a great night!”

“You too,” the kids replied in chorus.

“I won’t have,” Oliver mumbled.

Felicity turned around to him without stopping in her steps. She grinned mischievously.

“But I will.”

Oliver sighed. He had already feared that.

→ → → → →

Sipping at her champagne, Felicity looked around the room. Almost two hundred people had been invited to Grell Museum to celebrate the new vigilante laws and raise money for charity. There were no famous paintings covering the walls. Instead, there were amateur paintings – some by children younger than Emmy, others by teenage or adult amateur artists and even a few ones by elderlies – everywhere. They would be auctioned later tonight.

Felicity recognized most of the people. A lot of them had been to some of their charity events before. With the changes the city and therefore their family were facing, Felicity had run a security check on everyone on their guest list. It had just seemed safer this way.

Between all the faces she knew and didn’t know – there was one that she was still missing.

She knew that Chris Evans was there already. The atmosphere had shifted when he had entered the building. Apparently, she wasn’t the only one who was eager to meet that actor. Since he had asked to be treated as one of many guests instead of some kind of honorary guest or special guest, Felicity had decided to not go looking for him and to just wait until she was running into him instead.

That had been half an hour ago though, so she was getting kind of impatient now.

Straightening up onto the tips of her toes slightly, Felicity tried to get a better view on the people further in the back. Since Chris Evans, despite his godlike looks, didn’t come with a halo to shine down on him like a spotlight, she didn’t catch sight of him though.

Maybe if she just…

“Don’t even think about it.”

Oliver’s voice was a low whisper in her ear. His arm wrapped around her waist possessively, pulling her back against his side after she had moved like three inches away before. His lips brushed against her temple briefly, but she could see him scanning the crowd of people. One could almost believe that Oliver was just as eager to see Chris Evans as Felicity was. Felicity knew better than to ask him about that though.

Turning around to Oliver, Felicity leaned against his chest and wrapped her arms around his neck loosely. She angled her head, looking at him with a soft smile. Occasions like these were always busy. They had arrived here more than two hours ago, and this was the first moment they had all for themselves.

“What?” Oliver asked, wrapping his arms around her waist and swaying her from side to side to the rhythm of the music playing quietly in the background. “What are you thinking about?”

“Just you.” Felicity smiled. “Always you.”

Her smile was mirrored on Oliver’s face. He touched his forehead with hers and leaned in to kiss her.

“Well, you and Chris Evans.”

Oliver released a mixture of a groan and a chuckle. He shook his head and pinched her side playfully. It was the most relaxed she had seen him these last days. She knew that the experience of feeling forced to surrender himself to the police and the feeling of helplessness that he had experienced while they had been facing one disaster after the other had left its marks on him. Unlike the scars he had gotten during his five years away, these ones couldn’t be seen easily.

Felicity, however, did see them. She knew Oliver long enough to realize when there were new scars on him. It wasn’t the only reason though. She carried the same scars, so it was even easier for her to recognize them on Oliver.

Since he had been pardoned by the president and returned to their family, he had done everything possible to take back control and fix the damages Rose Blood’s attacks had left on the city and their family. For the soul, it wasn’t that easy though.

“You know what we should do for Thanksgiving this year?” Felicity asked.

Oliver perked up his eyebrows. “Shoot.”

“We should get away for a couple of days. You, me and the kids. And Hawk.”

Oliver nodded slowly. “That’s actually a good idea. I think we could all need some time away.”

“Absolutely. And we deserve it too.”

“That,” Oliver said pointedly and raised his glass, “is something we should definitely toast to.”

They clinked their glasses. Looking into each other’s eyes, they took some sips. Felicity could almost see them doing the exact same thing on Bali or somewhere closer since they would only be able to get away for a couple of days. God, they could just lock themselves in an apartment right out of town and that would be great too. They just needed to get out of Starling for a couple of days and just be private people. A family.

“I hope I don’t interrupt.”

Oliver and Felicity both turned their heads to see Bruce approaching them slowly. He had one hand pushed into the pocket of his pants, while he was holding a glass of champaign in his other hand.

“Bruce.” Felicity smiled, stepped closer and kissed his cheek. “I am happy you’re here. I thought you couldn’t make it.”

Bruce shrugged his shoulders. “I just paid more than I was originally willing to pay and took my jet to come here. I was feeling in the right mood for a party.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” Felicity smiled, stepping back at Oliver’s side. “I know you have your parties in Gotham too, but everything’s a little more friendly here. I think you should spend more time in friendly environments.”

“Are you suggesting I should move to Starling?”

“Sure.” Felicity grinned. “Close Wayne Enterprise and come work for me.”

Bruce perked up his eyebrows and shot Oliver a glance. “How much has she been drinking?”

Oliver didn’t get to answer.

Chuckling about Bruce’s question, Felicity had looked around the room. She hadn’t really been searching for anything, but she had found something – or rather someone – none the less. Gasping for breath, she grabbed Oliver’s arm.

“There he is,” she whispered almost reverently. “God, doesn’t he look good?”

Felicity could hear Oliver’s heavy sigh, but she was even too distracted to be amused about it. Chris Evan looked even hotter in person than he looked in movies or photos or whatever. She wasn’t even very close to him yet, but he looked incredibly good already. She couldn’t wait to see him.

“Who… is she looking at?” Bruce asked, audibly confused.

“Chris Evans.”

“Who?”

Tearing her eyes open, Felicity snapped her head around to look at Bruce. “Did you just honestly ask who Chris Evans is?”

Bruce shot Oliver a brief glance, but he hid his grin behind sipping at his glass of champagne and didn’t help Bruce out of the situation.

“Chris Evans is the epitome of a handsome and yet perfectly down-to-earth and utterly nice guy,” Felicity explained urgently, “and he is going to play Oliver in the movie about his life.”

“A movie about your life?” Bruce asked, looking almost a little mockingly at Oliver. “Really?”

Felicity thrusted her glass of champagne into Oliver’s hand and moved her fingers over her dress to make sure there were no visible wrinkles. Pushing her shoulders back and eying her target, she started approaching him.

“You can discuss that while I will get to meet him.”

With that, she was gone. Oliver and Bruce watched her cross the room and approach the actor she admired so much. He had his back turned towards her, but Felicity didn’t even hesitate for the beat of a second before she bumped into him slightly. The next moment, they were both laughing, shaking hands and engaging in a conversation.

Oliver shook his head, downing the rest of his own glass of champagne before lifting Felicity’s glass to his lips. This was the stuff nightmares were made off.

“I didn’t know Felicity was that good at picking up guys.” Bruce frowned. “I don’t like it.”

“The fact that she is into him like that is bad enough, but the fact that he’s on her three-list is-“

“Her what?”

“Her three-list.” Oliver rolled his eyes. “The list of people you are allowed to have sex with, and it doesn’t count as cheating.”

Bruce looked at Oliver with utter bewilderment. “What?”

Oliver frowned. “I think you knew about the existence of that kind of list.”

“Certainly not.”

“I am sure Felicity even told you that you were on hers once.”

Bruce almost choked on his champaign hearing it. The bewildered expression on his face only grew more intense.

“I was on- How- Why-?”

“You were on it, but she crossed you off the list as soon as she knew that she was going to meet you and work with you,” Oliver explained with a sigh and shrugged his shoulders. “And I am still sure that she told you about it.”

Bruce turned his head to look at Felicity once more and shook his head. The bewilderment turned into disbelief now.

“I can’t believe she just crossed me off.”

“Had she met you this far into our marriage instead of a couple of years, she definitely wouldn’t have crossed you off.”

“That’s like twisting the knife in my chest.” Bruce scrunched up his nose before he turned to look at Oliver. “Did you recognize that list? I mean is there some kind of contractual agreement that Felicity can actually sleep with Chris Evans without it being counted as cheating?”

Oliver looked at Bruce like he had lost his sanity. Given the question he had just asked, Oliver would actually be more surprised if Bruce hadn’t lost his mind.

“If she as much as breathes too closely to him, he will disappear and never be seen again.”

“Good.” Bruce nodded sinisterly. “I will help if it comes that far.”

Oliver downed his glass before he put it away on the tray of a waiter that walked past him. He shot another look towards Felicity and Chris Evans and, yes, he was sure that this was cause nightmares for a couple of weeks.

“Do you think we should be jealous?” Bruce asked, leaning a little closer. “I feel like we should be jealous.”

Oliver looked at Bruce, who was looking at Felicity and Chris Evans like he was the husband watching his wife flirting with a guy she had a crush on. Oliver just shook his head.

He had said it to Bruce once and he still felt it now – He couldn’t blame any guy for falling for Felicity. He had fallen for her too because she was just stunning.

→ → → → →

The last guests had left and Oliver had even sent the staff away, telling them to just clean up tomorrow because it was already late and the staff had done such a good job, they certainly were tired and deserved their rest. Now there was only an intimate circle left – the heroes and vigilantes or Starling, Central City and Gotham.

Oliver looked around the people that had been with him on this ride for the past fifteen years. John and Felicity had joined first were still the two people closest to him. Thea, Roy, Laurel and Curtis had become part of the team one by one, and without them Oliver would have never had the time to be the dad or the mayor that he was. Tommy, who knew him the longest, had returned from the dead and found his way into the family too. Felicity had found her brother Dominic and he had joined the team. Then there was the Central City squad – Barry, Caitlin, Cisco and Iris – who had made vigilantism more than just a Starling City-phenomenon. And of course there was Bruce, who had been through his own trauma and somehow had chosen to step on a path quite similar to Oliver’s, just that Oliver had already left that path.

Tonight might have been another celebration for his victory and Starling City’s victory, but it was also a celebrity of the bond they had formed with each other and the work all of them had done in their respective homes. At least it should be a celebration of that, so Oliver would make it that.

Getting behind the bar, Oliver grabbed some bottle of champagnes and poured some glasses that he put on a tray. He was used to drinks being served to him since he was a child. Tonight he’d be the one to serve drinks.

Once everything was ready, Oliver clinked two glasses together repeatedly until he had everyone’s attention.

“Don’t worry,” Oliver said, “I won’t bore you with a long speech. I just wanted to take the time and thank all of you. None of this would have been possible without you, and I think this isn’t just my victory. It’s all of our victory. And more importantly, all of this wouldn’t mean anything if it wasn’t for the friends I gained on the way. The mission and what it had turned into is a big thing, but us – our friendship and family – is just as big a thing. And I think we should just take a moment to toast to that.”

Oliver grabbed the tray – holding it in both hands just to be sure – and offered the champagne to his family and friends. He took the last glass for himself and put the tray away. He then raised his glass, looking at his friends.

“Here’s to all of us,” Oliver said, “and to our personal missions and our urge to protect our cities. But most importantly, here is to friendship.” They clinked their glasses and celebrated the fact that they were all here together. They had come together as people with the same vision for their city, and now they were one big family. If that wasn’t something to be celebrated, what else was?

[tau1tvec]

Apparently the Met Gala is a fundraiser for the Metropolitan Museum of Art's Costume Institute. Which explains the constant themes and creativity but it’s just to the museum which is disappointing considering the amount of money that’s spent on entrance and a table alone.

That is disappointing, and it’s a huge historic museum that draws a lotta tourism, so they’re also making bank on entrance fees, other charity events, and merch too. I’m sure they’ve done stuff to help others and the art industry, but 75k is quite literally how much my husband and I bring home in a year, jointly before taxes, and we still can’t see home ownership in our future.

The rich are riching as usual.

[mariaiahmad]

Met Gala: The Art of Costume Design

Charles James (American, born Great Britain, 1906–1978) “Tree” (1955)

As the first Monday of May approaches, I can’t help but reminisce about the year I discovered the Met Gala and the art of Costume Design.

The Met Gala is a charity benefit held by Vogue’s editor-in-chief, Anna Wintour, to fundraise for the Metropolitan Museum of Art. Held annually, Designers and celebrities come together to create unforgettable looks in the name of the Met Gala’s theme. The event also marks the beginning of the MET’s spring display.

In 2014, I had been travelling and being home-schooled. I began spending my free time making short films and fashion illustrating. I’d spend time watching films and recreating costumes from characters I would see on screen. I had been illustrating designs from Funny Face (1957) which happened to introduce one of my favourite actresses, Audrey Hepburn, as well as the famous costume designer, Edith Head. I began watching more of Hepburn’s work and discovered her relationship with the fashion designer, Hubert de Givenchy. I learned of Hepburn and Givenchy’s collaborations and would watch films such as Sabrina (1954) and Charade (1963) with heart eyes in admiration of the beautiful designs.

The month of May came along, my dad had brought me a newspaper (knowing I was illustrating) which featured the headline of that day, the Met Gala. I was immediately stunned and introduced to the event by a picture of Sarah Jessica Parker wearing Oscar de la Renta. It was a dress which I remember analysing and finding beauty in the originality. I immediately needed to know who designed the dress.

Another design which caught my eye – Dita Von Teese wearing Zac Posen, who was also in attendance. The dress’ silhouette was unlike anything I had seen before. The colours were daring and unlike anything I had seen on a dress before. I couldn’t believe that after watching films and adoring designs on screen, there were events which embraced and celebrated expressive fashion designs.

Filmmaking had felt far out of reach, I hadn’t heard of or seen anyone in films or behind films that looked like me. I didn’t even consider it because I figured, it was a dream and not reality. Design, on the other hand, was tangible. I was illustrating my designs and tying stories with them. I began realising very quickly that I enjoyed writing, creating, and finding characters. Fashion design happened to be a medium which can express an individual’s style, circumstances, and personality. Particularly in film, I find that costume design is an excellent introduction to finding out about characters. That also translates into real life. I enjoy creative expression and individuality from myself as well as other characters and people. After all, the world is a stage. Dress for it how you wish. I approach writing starting with character, always. So now when I look back, it is not much of a surprise that I find myself attracted to fashion design when curating stories. Fashion expresses without conversation. It expresses without any explanation.

After reading the newspaper back to front of the various designs, I grabbed hold of a laptop and began investigating and researching the designers I had come across and the theme of that year was “Charles James: Beyond Fashion”. I couldn’t believe it. The Met Gala was raising money for the Metropolitan Museum of Art and particularly gave many costume designers in the industry a chance to showcase their talents. I saw pictures of the designs showcased in the museum that year and I began sketching Sarah Jessica Parker and Dita Von Teese’s looks. Then heavily researched and sketched the works of Oscar de la Renta, Zac Posen and Charles James. The silhouettes, colours and originality caught my eye, and I began creating my designs and eventually tying characters, backgrounds and a story to them. It was to my dismay when I found out later that year that Oscar de la Renta had unfortunately passed away. Oscar de la Renta had created an astounding life for himself as a fashion designer and someone who inspired and taught me about design.

Audrey Hepburn and Oscar de la Renta during 1988 Council of Fashion Designers of America Awards at Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, New York, United States. (Photo by Ron Galella/Ron Galella Collection via Getty Images)  

Since then, I have habitually reading Vouge articles, watching fashion documentaries and analyses, watching fashion weeks, noting upcoming designers and learning fashion history. It was a hobby and art form I keep personal. The need and desire to understand a character, an emotion or a period in history from clothes was my understanding of my fascination. That particular summer, after hearing of the Met Gala, I remember beautiful blissful days of illustrating designs of my own, imagining as if I were designing costumes for the Met Gala and eventually films. I began writing short stories with characters I got to know better as I illustrated costumes as a form of research.

It is safe to say that fashion designing, illustrating and textile design have always been a big part of my discovery and love for storytelling. Since then, I have been designing in various forms. I cherish and continue to illustrate design as my passion and devote most of my time always expressing and telling stories in various art forms. The Met Gala is a staple in my discovery for storytelling and developed into my annual invitation to reminisce about creativity and self-expression. I continue to illustrate to spark ideas and pay homage to the beginning of my creative endeavours as well as, most importantly, storytelling.

Maria Ahmad

[infinitehyperfixations]

Ribbons and Steel

When Metal Meets String - Piotr's POV

This is the first part of my Colossus x OC slow burn, enemies to lovers fic. I hope all of you enjoy!

Summary: Piotr, Ellie, and Professor X are invited to a fundraising gala for a mutant charity. The event is held in a museum in New York City which holds the world's largest red diamond - The Devil's Treasure. Piotr's hopes of having a peaceful night crumble before him when a thief crashes the gala.

(I apologize if the summary sucks!)

Rated T for language and violence

Word Count: 8.1K

Comments and Reblogs are love!

No one is what they seem.  

Piotr wished he would’ve listened to that phrase when he met her. Everyone hides details about themselves upon the first meeting - even he knew that. A strong reputation means nothing if someone is forced to use it like a mask. They may be too afraid to show who they really are because they believe that everyone will see them as they see themself.  

A Coward. 

A Monster. 

A Failure. 

It will require patience and trust to discover one’s real identity. Only when you look behind the closed curtain can you see their true self. Trying to coax out the smallest detail may take weeks even months but it will be worth it in the end. 

It took Piotr too long to discover what hid behind her mask and it almost cost her everything. 

-----

Three months after the events of Deadpool 2…

Much to Piotr’s surprise, it had been a quiet couple of months. Well, quiet as it could get for any superhero. There were always the rescue missions, the bank heists that needed to be foiled, and Wade’s endless chaos that needed to be tended to. On top of that, he was leading the newly formed X-Force team which only consisted of Cable, Wade, Domino and himself. (NTW and Yukio were considered junior members since they were not of age yet.) Of course, being the Art and Russian teacher at the Professor’s Institute brought in even more tasks for himself. He had assignments to grade, lesson plans to review, and school events that needed chaperoning.  

For three months, Piotr did not have to stop a world-ending crisis nor face a new threat to mutant kind. It was more than he could ask for after helping Wade save Russel a few months ago. It seemed the universe was finally giving him a break but he soon realized that it was just the calm before the storm. 

“Remind me why I’m here again?” Ellie groaned, looking longingly at the museum’s exit. 

Piotr and Ellie stood in the middle of a fundraising gala for the Drake Foundation that was being held in a museum in New York City. The foundation was a charity that supplied homeless mutants food, housing, and free education opportunities across the world. The Professor was invited to speak at the event and was allowed to bring two guests. Unfortunately, the X-Men were on a mission so Piotr and Ellie had to come to represent the institute with the Professor.  

The large, circular entrance of the museum was converted into an exquisite banquet hall for the gala. The hall was illuminated by bright lights with enormous stone pillars lining the walls. In the center of the room was a sea of tables that were covered in white table cloths and decorated with colorful bouquets. Directly above the center of the floor was a wide circular sky light that revealed the bright lights of the neighboring buildings. 

One of the first things that Piotr noticed when he entered the building were the huge banners showing the various exhibits inside the museum. The most featured one was the world’s largest red diamond - deemed The Devil’s Treasure according to one of the banners. He figured that the exhibit was under high surveillance and was closed off like the rest of the museum. 

“Because it was either this, or Wade duty,” Piotr reminded her as he gazed over the large crowd of rich people. He caught a few of them stealing glances at his metal form but thought nothing of it. He was used to people staring at him.

“Is it too late to trade places with Cable?” Ellie questioned as she tried to loosen the collar of her black suit. “I think I would rather deal with Wade than these people.” 

“Yes it is,” Piotr sighed, looking down at his trainee. “It is good we are here to represent institute.” 

“I mean, yes it’s good we’re here for that,” Ellie groaned, “but do we really have to wear suits?” 

Piotr couldn’t help but silently agree with her. He was worried that he was going to rip his suit (which was very expensive and annoying to get) in his metal form. Since the Professor wanted a representative from the X-Men, he requested for Piotr to be in his armored form at the gala because no one would recognize him in his normal form. He only agreed because if something were to happen, he wouldn’t accidentally ruin his suit as he changed into his metal form. 

“And you told me to not use my phone,” Ellie pointed out. 

“Socializing would be good for you,” Piotr joked, earning an eye-roll from the teenager.  

“Oh yes, because I am obviously the best choice when it comes to talking to snobby rich people,” Ellie whisper-yelled harshly. “Yukio picked a bad time to go visit her family.” 

Piotr simply rolled his eyes at Ellie, “You can just hide behind me and I will do most of talking.”

“Was already planning on it, big guy.” 

While the last minute arrivals gathered at their tables, Piotr and Ellie decided to stand near the Professor as he conversed with the other guests. The Professor answered most of their questions about the school while Piotr told them about working with the students. Ellie, much to her discomfort, was asked about her experience there and gave short and simple answers. When Piotr noticed how anxious she was, he made an attempt to escort Ellie to their table but stopped when he heard someone say his name. 

When Piotr turned around a man in a deep red and black suit (which was definitely more expensive than his own) greeted him with a friendly smile. He reminded Piotr of the male models on the book covers of horrible billionaire romance novels that some of his students read. He was young (Piotr guessed around his age) with deep tan skin, dark brown eyes, and jet black hair which was loosely combed back. He was nearly as tall as Piotr but he still had to crane his neck a bit. 

“Colossus!” The mystery man greeted in a British accent. His voice was deep but very welcoming. “Sorry to stop you and your colleague but I wanted to introduce myself.”

When the man held out his hand, Piotr noticed faint scars on his knuckles. They were similar to the ones Piotr would get when he trained too hard. He didn’t think too much about them since they seemed to be very old…but it was still odd. 

“My name is James Levine,” He said as they shook hands. His grip was strong enough to impress Piotr. “On behalf of my family and the Drake Foundation, I would like to thank you and the X-Men for helping mutants around the world.” 

“Thank you, it is our duty to make world better for everyone,” Piotr replied as the Professor turned to them. “Do you run this charity?” 

“My family and Drake Industries do,” Levine answered. “Our board of directors and myself are working on building a location in the U.S. to help mutants here. We have many scattered around Europe but we wish to expand.” 

“Mr. Levine,” The Professor greeted, moving next to Piotr, “it is a pleasure to finally meet you in person.” 

“Professor Xavier! Believe me the feeling is mutual,” Levine said as he peered down at the Professor. “Thank you for coming and bringing your X-Men tonight.”

“Thank you for inviting us.” 

Piotr took a moment to glance back at Ellie, who was using him as a human shield to hide from the crowd. He expected her to be on her phone (which he would have been fine with) but she was staring at Mr. Levine inquisitively. As long as Levine didn’t divert his attention on her then she should be fine. 

“Drake Industries would like to make a donation to your school,” Levine stated, as a woman - who Piotr didn’t notice before - stepped into view behind the billionaire. He assumed it must be his assistant. 

The thin woman wore a deep purple suit which complemented her dark brown skin and figure. Her lavender colored hair was wrapped neatly into small bantu knots. Despite the fact that she was barely tall enough to meet his shoulders, she was an intimidating woman. Her stern, dark eyes and her sharp eyeliner would have made any normal person nervous. Her lips were painted with black lipstick with a light purple center. A gold nose ring hung above her lips and matched the small golden hoops in her ears. 

“Mr. Levine,” The woman said in a dry tone. Her voice had a cold sound to it and Piotr couldn’t quite place her accent. “It is time to prepare for your welcoming speech.” 

Mr. Levine nodded and turned back to Piotr and the Professor. “My apologies, I must go with Miss Ba. I hope you enjoy your night.”

Levine turned away from them and followed Miss Ba through the large crowd. When he was far enough away, Ellie came out of her hiding spot behind Piotr.

“He seemed…nice I guess,” Ellie mumbled, “but his assistant is terrifying.” 

Since Piotr was tall enough, he was able to watch Mr. Levine weave through the crowd to get to the stage that was assembled in front of the tables. He trailed behind Miss Ba who went behind the stage. 

“It was nice of him to make donation,” Piotr said, looking down at the Professor. 

“Yes, it was,” The Professor agreed as Ms. Ba walked on the stage towards the podium. 

“Everyone,” Miss Ba announced with a fake smile, “please head to your seats so the evening may begin.” 

While everyone began to make their way to their tables, Piotr looked around the large room and noticed a few of the museum security guards that roamed along the walls. They had walkie-talkies attached to their vests and were armed with tasers and a baton stick. Most of them were calmly looking around the room and quietly speaking into their two-way radios. He assumed that there were other guards stationed at the exhibits - especially the one that held the Devil’s Treasure.

Piotr and Ellie followed the Professor to their assigned table which was close to the stage. There were three other seats at the table that were for some guests that Piotr did not know. He assumed they were gifted to the highest paying donors. A grimace fell on his face when he saw his seat.

“I cannot sit here,” Piotr said, trying to hide his mild annoyance. 

Ellie snapped her head up at the large metal man, “What do you mean?” 

“This chair,” Piotr said as he simply pulled out his seat to show its cheap metal legs, “I will crush it if I sit on it.” 

Piotr was used to a lack of accommodations for his heavy metal form and massive size; however, he expected an event held and paid for by a billionaire to have a reinforced seat for him. Of course, he could metal down but his suit would not fit his slightly smaller form as well. He assumed that the workers that set up the event must have forgotten about a reinforced chair for him. If he remembered correctly, the Professor requested one for him and the people that were in charge of the event reassured him that there would be one. 

“Ohhhh, I see what you mean,” Ellie said, tapping one of the chair legs with her foot. “Maybe one of the workers can get you the chair that the Professor requested.” 

“I hope so,” Piotr nodded as he began to walk away from the table. “I will be right back.” 

Piotr scanned the room for an available server while he did his best to carefully weave through the crowd of attendees that were trying to get to their own tables. Once he freed himself from the sea of tables and guests, James Levine walked up to the microphone with a welcoming smile. He tapped on it to grab everyone’s attention as they were sitting down. 

“Hello and welcome everyone to the Drake Foundation Fundraising Gala,” The billionaire greeted, resting his hands on the podium. Piotr stopped his search to pay attention to Levine’s speech.

“I want to thank each and everyone of you for donating and helping us provide basic necessities and education for all mutants around the world,” Levine began as he looked down at the table where the Professor and NTW were sitting. “I especially want to thank Professor Xavier and his X-Men for making the world a better and safer place for everyone.” 

The guests and workers began to clap while a few of them shouted their gratitude. Piotr winced when he saw Ellie shrink in her chair from receiving the guests’ attention while the Professor smiled at the attendees. He wished he didn’t leave the table so he could relieve Ellie’s anxiety. After earning an encouraging look from the Professor, Ellie attempted to put on a happy face but it looked more like a pained smile. Once the applause died down, Levine cleared his throat and began again. 

“Before Professor Xavier comes up here, I would like to-”

Before he could finish the room went pitch black. The only source of light came through the skylight from the lit up buildings that surrounded the museum. Piotr could barely make out the silhouettes of the people sitting in front of him without squinting. The guests murmured anxiously among themselves as the guards began to quickly radio each other.  

“Everyone calm down! I’m sure the emergency generator will kick in!” Levine yelled reassuringly. 

Just as promised the generator kicked in seconds later, illuminating the large room enough for Piotr to distinguish the faces of the crowd. Some of the guests were calming down while others looked around the room nervously. Before Piotr could make his way back to Ellie and the Professor, he heard one of the security guards frantically speak into his radio behind him. 

“Bill, what's your status?” There was a short pause before the guard used his walkie-talkie again. “Bill, do you copy?” 

Piotr was holding on to the hope that it was a simple power outage but after hearing the distressed security guard Piotr started to think otherwise. He quickly turned around and saw the security guard hiding from the guests behind a pillar. The middle-aged man was pacing as he squeezed the radio in his hand. It was hard to see due to his thick gray mustache but he was frowning as he stared expectantly at his walkie-talkie. 

“Is everything alright?” Piotr asked quietly to not alarm the guests. 

The guard jumped before turning  to face Piotr. Like most people, the guard had to crane his neck to look Piotr in the eye. With the guard facing him, Piotr noticed a small name tag on his vest that read, George. 

George shook his head, “No, my guy in the security office isn’t responding. I was about to go check on him myself but I need to help my men in here to keep the guests calm.” 

“The Professor and NTW can help them with that,” Piotr assured. “Take me to security office.”

George nodded and motioned Piotr to follow him. They walked to the otherside of the hall at a steady pace to not alert the guests of any possible danger while Levine tried to put them at ease. Before Piotr entered a closed off hallway with George, he noticed Ellie looking at him curiously. 

“Professor,” Piotr said loud enough in his mind for the Professor to hear his thoughts clearly through the anxious ones from the guests.

“Piotr, is everything okay?” The Professor responded quickly in Piotr’s mind. 

 “Not sure. I am checking out the security office with guard,” Piotr informed. “Tell NTW to be ready in case civilians are in danger.”

“Understood.” 

Once they were out of sight of the gala attendees, George and Piotr ran through the dimly lit halls. On their way to the security office, George explained that most of the emergency generator’s power was directed to keeping the museum’s security system online. However, someone could temporarily shut off the security system in any exhibit if they broke into the security office. 

After running past a few blocked off exhibits filled with priceless artifacts, Piotr and George reached a door labeled, “Security Personnel Only,” at the end of a hallway. Piotr didn’t see any damage around the door that would alert him to a break in. George quickly pulled out a key card and pressed it against the scanner that was next to the door frame. 

“Doesn’t look like someone broke in,” George said as the door unlocked with a click, “but someone could have swiped a key card from any of my guys.” 

Piotr let out a heavy sigh as he stepped through the door, “Let us hope not.” 

The door led into a short wide hallway that was barely lit due to what Piotr hoped to be a power malfunction. Attached to the ceiling were multiple cameras pointing at the entrance to the hallway and the security room. When his gaze fell on the office door, he quickly realized that whatever caused the power to go out was not a simple malfunction. 

Someone broke in. 

The metal door was slightly ajar and its handle was bent as if someone had kicked it open. When Piotr got closer to the door, he noticed that the door’s metal frame around the lock was damaged. Whoever kicked down the door was strong - very strong. 

Piotr kept his guard up as he approached the door, not knowing if the intruder was still inside. Piotr slowly pushed it open while George stood behind him with his taser ready to fire. When the entire office was in view, the only person in the room was a man slouched over in a chair in the center of the floor. 

“Oh my god, Bill!” George gasped as he ran to the unconscious guard. 

The older guard knelt in front of Bill and lightly tapped his face to wake him up. The unconscious man was definitely younger and thinner than George. He sported a thick head of straw-like hair and light stubble on his face. Piotr noticed his skin swelling up around his eye, indicating that the intruder must have punched him to knock him out. After a few moments, a few painful grunts escaped Bill’s mouth before he slowly opened his eyes. 

“Ow…” Bill groaned as he looked around the room in a dazed state. 

“Bill, are you alright?” George asked worriedly. “Did you see who did this to you?”

Bill blinked a couple of times when his gaze landed on Piotr’s giant form. His face slowly contorted into a bewildered frown - obviously not used to seeing a giant man with metal skin - before he looked down at George. 

“No…” Bill drawled as he gently rubbed his eye and winced, “the door was kicked open and everything went black.”

While George looked over Bill’s injuries, Piotr looked around the small office to see if he could figure out any information about the intruder. He was immediately drawn to the large electrical equipment that was setup across the room from the giant wall of security monitors. Against the wall was a large CPU (which was almost as big as Piotr) and another rectangular device that had various switches and a large keypad attached to it. Assuming it was the security system’s mainframe, Piotr scanned it for any foreign device that could have caused the power outage. 

His metal fingers skimmed the sides of the mainframe when he couldn’t see anything out of ordinary on the front of the device. When his fingers bumped into a strange object, he grabbed it and pulled on it gently so he could identify it. The second he yanked the device off the panel, sparks flew as the power came back on. 

“Finally! We can see!” George cheered, gazing at the powered lights. 

Bill fortunately came out of his dazed state and started to reboot the camera system. While the guards worked on that, Piotr took a moment to study the device in his hand. It was obvious that the intruder used the device to hack into the security system and shut off the power. The circular device was about the size of a baseball and reminded him of a hockey puck. The top part was protected by a sleek dark metal that received finger-shaped dents from Piotr when he pulled it off. The bottom part of the device had four small drills that were used to attach itself to the mainframe and allow it to dismantle the security system. The device’s design was exceptional and that would be the only compliment he gave to the intruder. 

“I found what caused power outage,” Piotr informed as he placed the device on the desk. “Any luck with security cameras?” 

Judging by the fact that all of the monitors were still blank, it wasn’t looking good. Bill was underneath the desk trying to solve the problem with the power cables while George scanned the monitors to figure out how to turn them on. With an irritated huff, Bill slid out from under the desk and shook his head. 

“We can’t turn them back on,” Bill sighed as he stood up. “Whatever that device did to our system seriously messed up the cameras.” 

Bill’s brow furrowed inquisitively when he looked down at the desk. His gaze landed on a red lunch box (which Piotr assumed belonged to him) and picked it up. He pushed around its contents in search of something and dropped to look around his desk. 

“Wait a minute,” Bill said quietly as he frantically searched the top of his desk for something. “My sandwich is gone!” 

“And I think I know who took it,” George announced as he picked up a sticky note that was stuck to a computer screen and handed it to Piotr. 

Sorry for eating your dinner!

It was delicious 

- M ♡

Piotr stared at the note in disbelief as he read it aloud. He had seen odd notes before (mostly from Wade) but this one bugged him a little bit. Judging by the silent entrance, the clean knock out, and the power outage, the intruder - “M” - must have been a professional or at least an overconfident rookie. The note indicated that “M” had enough time on their hands to stay in the office and run off before Piotr arrived. 

It was rather annoying. 

“And we have no idea where they went,” George sneered. “They could be anywhere in this damn place!” 

“I think I know,” Bill spoke up, peering at the sticky note in Piotr’s hands. “I think they wrote something on the back of that.” 

Piotr quickly flipped over the slip of paper and immediately crushed it in his hand after he read it.

I’ll be waiting in the Devil’s Treasure exhibit.

Hit me with your best shot, Tin Can. 

- M 

“Tell your guards to evacuate museum,” Piotr tried to say calmly but the guards behind him could hear the hints of anger in his voice. 

Piotr marched out of the room with purpose while carefully removing his tie and suit jacket. Piotr prided himself on being a calm and collected man but there was something about that note that irked him the wrong way. If M’s goal was to irritate him, it was working very well. Too good, in fact. 

And Piotr hated it. 

Piotr folded the jacket over his arm when he approached the door at the end of the hallway. He looked over his shoulder at the two guards, giving them a clear view of the scowl he was trying to hide. 

“This may get messy.” 

-----

When he sprinted into the museum's corridor, Piotr could barely hear George directing his men through his radio. Guards ran out of every room that he passed to head to the banquet hall to protect the guests. When he got closer to the gala, he could hear the echoes of the anxious voices of the guests. While he followed the signs to the diamond’s exhibit, he took out his phone to call Ellie and tell her to meet him there. 

“Do not engage the intruder until I arrive,” Piotr instructed with a strict tone. 

“Don’t worry, I promise I won’t,” Ellie assured before hanging up. 

By the time he arrived at the exhibit, all of the guests and staff were escorted outside by the security guards. There was a large crowd forming outside of the museum’s entrance which would only grow bigger once the police and reporters arrived.

Piotr was surprised he didn’t notice the entrance to the Devil’s Treasure exhibit when he first arrived at the gala. The exhibit was located on the top floor with its grand entrance in view of the banquet hall below him. Two large banners advertising the diamond hung next to the large doorway. In his defense, the gala’s stage directly below the exhibit’s entrance did take most of his attention. 

Piotr was only a few paces away from entering the room when Ellie caught up with him. She also discarded her suit jacket and tie just like Piotr. (Although, he was sure that she threw them on the ground somewhere while he folded his jacket up and placed it on a nearby bench. He refused to go through the annoying process of getting fit for a suit again.) 

“The guests have been evacuated,” Ellie informed in a quiet tone as she eyed the entrance to the exhibit. “Are you sure the intruder is in there?” 

“I’m sure,” Piotr said as he handed her the crumbled up sticky note. She smoothed it out to read it as Piotr scanned the entrance for any signs of M. “Where is Professor?” 

“Hiding in the entrance hall somewhere,” Ellie answered as she read the backside of the note. “He’s trying to find the thief telepathically but he’s not having any luck. He told me that they are blocking him somehow but he’s hoping to get a lock on them when we get them out in the open.” 

Piotr tried to seem unfazed by the fact that M could block the Professor from their mind. Very few could do it successfully and even fewer could do it without the aid of an object. Piotr hoped that there was an object or device that the intruder had to block telepaths. If there wasn’t, he feared that Ellie and him were about to face off against a powerful telepath. 

“Well, they seem cocky,” Ellie said after she read the back of the note. 

“We will use that to our advantage,” Piotr declared as he stepped toward the exhibit’s entrance. “Come, let us meet this M.”

When Ellie and Piotr entered the room, he carefully looked over the cases of the untouched priceless jewels that lined the walls. He frowned when there was no sign of the thief but continued to keep his guard up. In the center of the room, a small case that rested on a marble pedestal was illuminated by tiny spotlights attached to the ceiling. Velvet rope and a wall of lasers protected the case from being opened but when Piotr inched closer he realized that security measures were not enough. 

The Devil’s Treasure was gone. 

“Damn it,” Ellie growled, earning a disapproving look from Piotr for her use of language. “The diamond is gone and that thief was too scared to put up a fight.” 

“Oh, I promise you kid,” A voice called out behind them, “I will never run away from a good fight.” 

Piotr and Ellie almost gave themselves whiplash when they quickly turned around to face the woman that stood at the exhibit’s entrance. Upon his first look of her, Piotr knew he was dealing with a professional judging by her expensive and intricate look. The pale woman was dressed in an all black skin-tight suit and trench coat that was buckled around her waist. The coat was zipped above her belt and had a high collar to cover her neck. A silk, scarlet scarf was wrapped loosely around her neck with both ends of it resting next to her knees behind her back.  

If Piotr’s head wasn’t occupied with thoughts of her being a criminal, he would have been bewitched by thoughts of her beauty. Though the top half of her face was hidden by a black mask, soft strands of hair helped to accentuate her soft features. Her smooth and silky black hair was weaved into an elegant braid that ended just below her shoulder blades. A smooth metal that was decorated with small dark jewels wrapped around her ears. Her wide, confident grin that rested on her deep red lips and the mischievous glint in her dark brown eyes put Piotr on edge. He had seen the same look on Wade many times before but this was different…and somehow worse. 

“Who are you?” Piotr demanded, stepping in front of Ellie defensively. 

“Oh! How rude of me,” The woman chuckled as she did an unenthusiastic bow. Her British accent helped to carry the smoothness of her voice. 

“I am Maya Durand,” She smiled cheekily as she straightened her posture. “Most know me as Europe’s most infamous thief.”

“Never heard of ya,” Ellie jeered, shooting a glare at the thief.  

The grin on Maya’s face did not waver at Ellie’s remark. Instead, the woman simply rolled her eyes as she moved her gloved hand behind her back. 

“Oh, you will now.” 

Maya pulled her hand from behind her to reveal the deep red diamond that rested in her palm. With her arms in clear view, Piotr was able to see the silk ribbons wrapped tightly around her forearms. 

“Give us the diamond or this will get messy,” Piotr warned. 

Maya chuckled as she pulled out a small velvet case from the utility belt hidden beneath her coat. She carefully placed the diamond in the case and snapped it shut before placing it in her pocket. 

At this point, Piotr did not have a clue what her powers were so he kept his guard up. His fears of her being a telepath melted away as he watched the bottom half of her coat wrap around her legs. The coat’s fabric disappeared as it seemed to fuse with the material covering her legs. Without the bulky coat, her thin yet muscular body was put on display. 

“Oh, believe me, Colossus,” Maya spoke with a determined look, “I want this to get messy.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, the ribbons wrapped around her sleeves unraveled and fell on the floor. Piotr and Ellie stared at the woman in disbelief. Was she seriously going to fight them - a man with metal skin and a teenager that can produce atomic blasts - with string? 

“You’re seriously going to fight us with ribbons?” Ellie laughed, before nudging Piotr’s side with her elbow. “This is going to be easy.” 

Piotr was about to say the same thing before he heard Maya snickering as she grabbed a short poll that was strapped against her thigh. The poll was wrapped with a braided black leather and was about as long as her forearm. 

Before Piotr could calculate her next move, the ribbons on the ground began to spin around each other as they weaved into a thick rope. The smooth silk shifted into a rough and prickly material as the end of the rope connected to the tip of the poll which Piotr realized was a handle. Neither did Piotr or Ellie have time to react before Maya lashed out her whip at the teenager with a loud crack! Piotr barely had time to blink before the whip wrapped around Ellie’s leg. With an effortless tug, the teenager was thrown into the air and crashed into the hard marble wall. 

“Negasonic!” Piotr shouted before hearing a faint groan from his trainee. 

“What did you say about this being easy?” Maya quipped, looking over at the teenager. The tails of her scarf coiled around her body defensively when she brought her attention back to Piotr. 

“Colossus, try to bring her into the banquet hall so I can freeze her,” The Professor instructed telepathically. “I may be able to break past her defenses when I’m close to her.” 

“Understood.” 

Without a second thought, Piotr charged at the thief to force her to jump to the lower level. Instead of running to the balcony like he hoped she would, Maya stood still as she stared him down tauntingly. The tails of her scarf swiftly wrapped around her chest defensively almost as if they were her form of armor. He reached his arms out to grab her but she immediately jumped over him when he got too close. 

Piotr stumbled forward into the hallway and tried to regain his balance when he reached the balcony. Before he could, Maya flicked her whip around his ankles and pulled harshly. The giant man fell to the ground with a loud bang from his metal form. Piotr clenched his fists and snarled when he heard Maya’s mocking laughter. 

“When my employer warned me that an X-Man was going to be here, I thought I was going to have a challenge,” Maya taunted before looking down at Piotr with a displeased look on her face. Piotr slowly got on his knees and waited for her to get close enough to him.

“Needless to say, I’m disappointed.”

“That is enough!” Piotr roared as he grabbed her arm and threw her over the balcony’s ledge.  

Maya screamed, not having enough time to react to Piotr’s sudden move and crashed into the stage below him. Ellie came running out of the exhibit - presumably unharmed by Maya’s attack - as Piotr stood up. Deciding that taking the stairs would take too long, he jumped over the ledge and landed in front of the stage. 

(Piotr knew if Wade was present he would have made a comment about his superhero landing. Probably would have rated it too.) 

“Still disappointed?” Piotr called out humorlessly as he watched Maya slowly climbed out of the hole she made in the stage.  

Maya brushed the wooden debris from the stage off of her shoulder - sending Piotr a glare in the process. With a flick of her hand, her whip came rushing to her from the exhibit above them (she must have dropped it when Piotr threw her). Instead of lashing out with it, Maya used her powers to wrap the rope around her waist and slid the handle back into the holster on her thigh. 

“A little less now,” Maya admitted, spreading out her arms as the long strand of silk around her chest unraveled. 

The material responded to every move she made with her hands. Piotr watched curiously as the cloth seemed to grow longer as her fingers ran against it. She made fluid motions with her hands as the fabric spun around her body defensively. Her movements reminded him of the water benders from Avatar: The Last Airbender (he watched the show when he was learning English). 

With a snapping motion of her hand, the silk quickly wrapped itself around Piotr’s arm and pulled him to the ground. He let out a surprised yelp as he slammed into the marble floor. In a fatal attempt to remove the material, Piotr used his free hand to grab it and rip it off. Before he could, Maya spun in the air and flicked her wrist outwards. Following the motions of her hands, the silk threw Piotr across the room into the sea of tables. 

“You’re heavier than you look!” Maya teased trying to hide the fact that she was out of breath. 

Piotr groaned as he stood up from the table that he broke in half and took a moment to take in how far she threw him. He landed at the very edge of the cluster of tables which was at least thirty feet from the stage. It wasn’t an easy feat either since he was incredibly heavy in his armored form. 

“Bozhe moi, how strong is her fabric? How strong is she?” 

Maya didn’t waste any time for her next move when Piotr was back on his feet. As she slowly made her way to him, she used her long strand of fabric to grab anything and threw it at him. The first item was a glass vase from a nearby table which held a bouquet of flowers. Piotr was unphased when it collided with his head. In his metal form, it felt as if he was hit by a beach ball. 

When Maya realized he was unharmed, she decided to throw a chair at him instead - which Piotr simply blocked with his arm. The chair crumbled as it slammed into Piotr. Before he could make a witty remark, Maya sprinted to him with her line of silk surrounding her body.

With swift whipping movements of her arms, the silk repeatedly battered against Piotr. Piotr was pushed back with every lash against his raised arms. He was surprised that his metal skin burned after every hit. Growing bold, Maya released an aggravated roar as she leapt into the air with her trail of silk ready to lash out. Upon instinct, Piotr swung his arm and backhanded her, landing a direct hit on her ribcage. 

The excessive force of his swing threw Maya into one of the pillars. He was horrified with himself as he watched her body slam into the ground. He shouldn’t have hit her that hard. What was he thinking? He didn’t know the extent of her powers and he could have seriously hurt her. He could have killed-

Laughing. 

Maya Durand was laughing. 

She slowly got to her knees, revealing the silk wrapped protectively around her vibrating chest. Piotr was amazed by her fast reflexes. She must have wrapped the silk around her before he struck her side. If Hank was with him Piotr knew he would have been asking Maya about the properties and strength of her fabric. Piotr was curious about it too but he could wait to question her when she was behind bars. 

“You almost had me there, Tin Can,” Maya chuckled as she began to stand up. Her hand massaged the spot where he hit her, indicating that her fabric did not completely protect her. 

Before she could stand up completely, Professor X came out from behind the pillar with his hand reaching out to grab her. Piotr thought the Professor would have succeeded until he saw the grin on Maya’s face fall. With lightning fast reflexes, Maya spun around with her whip unraveling from around her waist. She shot out her hands, directing the rope wrap around the Professor’s outstretched arm and then his neck. With a sneer, Maya gripped the whip’s handle and yanked it down, hard. 

“Word of warning, Professor,” Maya growled with venom as the older man started to choke. “I do not like telepaths.” 

Before Maya could harm the Professor further, Ellie ran out from the hallway behind them and tackled the thief to the ground. With a vicious yell, Maya kicked the teen off of her and jumped to her feet. She spun to the Professor, shooting out her hand and rotated her wrist. In a flash the rope unraveled around the Professor’s neck allowing him to breathe once more before the material grew. It quickly tied the Professor’s arms down to his wheelchair and kept his hands in place so he couldn’t move. 

“Trust me, Professor,” Maya seethed, glaring at him, “you do not want to be inside of my head.” 

Maya turned away from the Professor to face Piotr and Ellie. In a matter of seconds, her frown melted away as if nothing had happened. She released an exasperated sigh before reaching into her pockets. 

“Now, this has been fun but I’m afraid I must go -” She froze when her hand reached the bottom of her pocket. Her eyes widened as she frantically patted herself down. “Where did I put that bloody diamond?” 

“Looking for this?” Ellie called out, holding the velvet case in clear view. 

Maya's scowl only lasted for a moment before her signature grin formed on her lips again. She almost seemed impressed by the teenager’s skill. 

“Good grab, kid, but that diamond is mine,” Maya snarled as she stepped closer to the teenager. “Give. It. Back.” 

Ellie stood ready to defend herself once she slid the case into her pocket. Before Maya could make a move for the case, Piotr stood in front of his trainee protectively.

“Negasonic, run,” Piotr ordered, glancing back at her. When she didn’t budge, he looked back at her again sternly. “Now.” 

Once she heard his serious tone, she ran off to the entrance of the museum. Before Maya could go after her, Piotr swiftly grabbed her arm and threw her to the opposite end of the room. 

Instead of crashing into the stage like he expected, Maya flipped her body around in mid-air and landed gracefully on her feet. When she stood up, the mischievous glint in her eyes was gone and was replaced by a fierce look of determination. He expected her to unravel the silk around her chest or at least form her whip again. Instead, she jumped off the stage with her hands outstretched as she sprinted to Piotr. 

Her fingertips grazed each table cloth in her reach as she charged at Piotr. Fearing that she was making an attempt to pass him, he darted his hand out to grab her but she quickly dodged his grasp by jumping to the side. She landed on the table beside him and crouched down to touch the cloth beneath her with her finger tips. He slammed his fist against the edge of the table to catapult her off of it but she swiftly jumped over him. 

Piotr spun around after crushing the table to make another attempt to grab her. He expected her to take a swing at him with her fabric but she was waiting for his move. It bothered Piotr for a second knowing that she was fast enough to strike him but didn’t take the chance. 

With olympic acrobatic skill, she consecutively dodged his attacks by jumping between the tables. After one of his futile attempts to capture her, Piotr got lucky and managed to grab her arm and throw her across the room. 

Maya landed on the cold marble floor with a loud thud. The thief groaned as she tried to pull herself up but her shaky arms wouldn’t let her. She hissed in pain when she managed to get on one knee as Piotr got closer to her. 

“Yield,” Piotr commanded, staring down at her, “you have been beaten.” 

Piotr stopped in his tracks when he heard a chuckle escape her lips. 

“Is that what you think?” 

Maya dropped her act and quickly stood up with her hands outstretched. Her grin once again formed on her face as Piotr watched her in disbelief. 

“You’re the one that has been beaten, Tin Can.” 

Maya threw her hands in front of her and raised them up. Piotr looked behind him and watched as the bouquet vases and dinner plates shattered on the ground as every single table cloth took to the air. He snapped his head back at Maya in shock.

“Did you forget that I can control any fabric that I touch?” Maya asked cheekily. 

Piotr’s stomach dropped when he realized he fell for her trap. She was deliberately dodging him so she could touch every table cloth. He shouldn’t have underestimated her abilities and now he was paying the price. 

Without another word, Maya pulled the fabric to her with a snapping motion. The cloths flew past Piotr at high speeds, disorienting him in the process as they spun around Maya like a tornado. Piotr watched as the tablecloths melted together to create one long train of fabric. With a flick of her wrist, the rough fabric turned into a scarlet silk that was similar to material wrapped around her chest. The finished product coiled around Maya as if it was a living serpent. 

Piotr didn’t have a chance to defend himself when a piece of the cloth lunged at him. Within seconds the smooth fabric wrapped around his hand and yanked his arm up as Maya directed the end of it to fasten around a pillar. With a simple thrust of her hand, another piece of silk tied around Piotr’s free arm and bound him to another pillar. A startled yelp escaped him when strands of silk wrapped around his legs and yanked him down on his knees. The numerous silk ribbons dug beneath the marble tile and chained him to the piping beneath the floor. For the finishing touch, Maya flicked her wrist and used her power to wrap around the bottom of his head to cover his mouth. 

Piotr’s growls were muffled by the fabric as he tugged at the silk to break free. Maya snickered at his vain attempts to free himself which only angered him more. If it was normal fabric he would have been able to tear it but the silk tied to him was strong as steel! 

“I would stop trying to break free if I were you,” Maya advised as motioned to the pillars he was bound to. “You may accidentally take the place down and I know the needles destruction of property isn’t a good look for superheroes.” 

Piotr seethed as he glared at her through knitted brows. He stopped pulling on his restraints with an aggravated huff knowing that she was right. If the building collapsed he knew the press would have a field day criticizing the X-Men and all mutants.

Piotr was thankful that Wade wasn’t there to witness his situation. He would never hear the end of it from the mercenary. He reminded himself that she did lose to him in the end - she didn’t have the diamond! 

“Oh, by the way,” Maya said with a smirk as she flicked her wrist to reveal the red jewel in her palm, “I had the diamond the entire time.” 

Piotr’s blood boiled with outrage as the thief gazed longingly at the diamond. As if she was a trained magician, she flicked her wrist again to make the jewel disappear.

“I’m a great actress don’t you think?” 

When she looked back at Piotr’s enraged state, she laughed as she swung her arm around his neck and pulled out her phone. 

“Stay put, I need to save the look on your face,” Maya joked as she pulled up the camera app to take a selfie. “Get it? Because you can’t move at all.” 

Piotr simply glared at her in response. 

“Oh, you’re no fun, Tin Man!” Maya said humorlessly before pressing her cheek against Piotr’s and raising her phone. “Smile!” 

Once she took the photo, she detached herself from Piotr and examined the picture. When she slid her phone back into its pocket with a satisfied smile, she spun herself around while waving her hand in the air. Once she steadied herself, her trench coat was once again covering her with her silk scarf wrapped loosely around her neck. 

“This has been fun but I must deliver the diamond to my employer so I can get paid,” Maya said, bending down to grasp Piotr’s chin. 

She tapped his metal skin with her thumb before letting him go with a satisfied hum. She swayed her hips as she stepped directly underneath the skylight. She extended her hand to the ceiling, shooting out a strand of ribbon that attached itself to the edge of the window. The ribbon quickly pulled herself up to the glass which allowed her to push the window open. Once she was through, she glanced back at Piotr and waved. 

“See you next time, Tin Can!” 

Piotr grumbled as he watched Maya run off with the diamond. Moments later, Ellie came running into the room cussing about the stolen jewel. Piotr ignored her vulgar words and drowned out the noise of the police cars and reporters that gathered outside the museum’s entrance with his thoughts. 

He allowed his overconfidence to get the better of him and his trainee and was publicly humiliated. Even worse, Maya Durand harmed the Professor under his watch. And he was defeated by a woman who controlled fabric. Fabric!  He was never going to hear the end of it when he returned to the institute. 

Piotr looked up at the skylight where Maya escaped, eyeing the strand of ribbon that she left behind. She wasn’t going to best him again or anyone else for that matter. 

Because he was going to take her down. 

-----

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