#i can only imagine Dick using every opportunity to call out his age

[haveihitanerve]

The JL and the Titans are on a mission together. Robin is vaguely known as an associate of Batman, at this point even the League has heard of Batman and Robin, but not by much, or how close this association goes.

During the mission, Batman and Robin don't interact much anyway, Robin choosing to stay with his team, Batman with his. Because he doesn't want to seem overbearing and embarrass his son in front of his own team.

But at some point, Robin makes a light suggestion that maybe Batman should stay behind for the next portion. He's met by rumbles of agreement from the other League members, after all, Batman is a human, and the rest of them are metas(who are they to assume Robin isn't a meta, putting up with Batman for as long as he has and being so damn flexible and cheery)

Batman appears behind the boy, so quick and silent even Robin and Superman don't immediately register the shift, and smacks the kid across the face.

Robin dramatizes the blow heavily, not that anyone knows this ofc, hes a good actor, stumbling away, as Batman glowers.

Robin grins back, dropping the facade, not even bothering to rub at his cheek because that's how light of a touch the smack was, as Batman growls.

"I'm not that old you cheeky little shit."

[misseviehyde]

AUNTIE-PATRIACHY

Josh hated what was happening to him. The conditons of the Anti-Patriachy Act meant that like him, every eighteen year old boy in the country was currently mandated by law to swap bodies with a woman for at least four hours a day, but in his case - things were not going well.

Boys would usually be assigned someone in their family - but not a direct relation if possible. After six weeks of the program they would have a good understanding of living as a woman and be less likely to display patriachial or misogynistic behaviour. As everyone swapped at different times - their female relative would also get an opportunity to interact with their friends and call out unacceptable behaviour.

For Josh though - this meant becoming his evil Aunt Aletta. She wasn't like the women his friends were swapping with. Aletta was fake and plastic. Giant slutty titties hung from her chest, her pumped up lips were always coated in shiny lip gloss and her tight shaven pussy was always wet for big cock.

She was an evil, slutty, bimbo bitch who only cared about her own selfish pleasures. Her body was pampered and corrupted into a pleasure dolls. She lived in a vast mansion with an ultra-feminine life-style served by a cuck husband and an army of lovers.

Despite her addictive evil lifestyle, she actually loved swapping bodies with Josh. He was young, handsome and strong and to his horror, she spent her time as him seducing his female classmates and fucking them.

"Stop being such a pussy Josh," she grinned as they began another swapping session. "I never agreed with this dumb act in the first place - but now they're making us swap I'm enjoying it. You and I can have a lot of fun as each other. Most men your age are pathetic weaklings thanks to this bullshit. The girls your age are desperate for a good fucking and your body makes their pussies wet."

"Auntie - you can't say that kind of thing," gasped Josh adjusting his big tits uncomfortably in Aletta's too small clothing. "You're making my friends act worse and encouraging my female friends to be spoiled slutty bitches. You gotta stop."

Aletta laughed. "Corrupting your friends to go against the act is fun. I love showing girls the pleasure of using men to get what they want and turning your friends into hot bullying studs. By the time we finish this program, they'll be mean alpha bullies and you'll have no choice but to act like them or be ostracised. Now I'm going over to the head cheerleaders house to fuck her brains out and convince Ashley she should show more cleavage and use it to manipulate boys."

Josh knew he was supposed to report his Aunt for this kind of behaviour - but how could he? He didn't want to get them both into trouble.

It was also kind of... hot.

In the times he returned to his body he now found the other boys were all following his lead and the girls at school all wanted him. He was a stud now and his big dick felt good as he stroked it and imagined it inside all the hottest sluts at school who his Aunt was corrupting to be like her.

One day - Ashley even gave him a blowjob at school and as he fucked her face and pumped cum down her eager throat he had felt a surge of power and dominance that had really turned him on.

The bodyswapping wasn't meant to make you MORE patriachial and evil - but Aletta's interference was doing just that.

Meanwhile Josh wondered whether he could do the opposite to his aunt and make her act nicer when he had control of her life.

Her plastic big titted body DID feel fucking good. He began to look forward to getting inside. His friends were jealous of his big slutty tits and rich lifestyle.

Donald - Aletta's husband was a weak pathetic cuck. On his Aunt's advice he had Donald eat his pussy out and soon Josh came to enjoy the subservient losers eagerness to please his Mistress.

Far from make Aletta nicer - Josh began to enjoy the evil power being his Aunt gave him. As he played with his big fake tits and pumped a dildo in and out of his tight gripping cunt - Josh began to fall in love with being an evil slut.

He began to dress in his Aunt's nastiest outfits and embraced her ultra-feminine life. Dressing in tight latex catsuits and boots whilst having long slutty acyrillic nails felt so right. Nail bars, cocktails with the girls and sex games became the norm. He was a rich bitch and he loved it.

Soon Josh had begun to suck cock just as good as Ashley at school and before long he became accustomed to having two cocks at once. The bigger the better and it just made the pleasure more intense if Donald had to watch.

"Yesssss I'm such a fucking bitch," grunted Josh as he was fucked and had his hair pulled by his lover as Donald watched miserably in the corner. "Mmmmh I want MORE!"

His giant tits swung up and down as he was pounded doggy-style and Josh loved how they felt as he took dick like a champ. Swapping with his aunt was the BEST.

At his Aunt's suggestion - Josh began to fuck his friends from school - helping Aletta with her corruption goals. As he moaned and grunted in pleasure as two of his friends spit roasted his horny body and slapped his big ass, she would jerk off in the corner.

"See Nephew, doesn't it feel good to be fucking evil and powerful? Pleasure and sex are all that matters. I love seeing you become a whore just like me."

Day by day Josh's morals and priorities shifted. He was soon just as evil and corrupt as his Aunt. Whether he was fucking the increasingly slutty girls from school or taking multiple cocks from his bullying friends - he was in Heaven.

Finally the program was complete. After six weeks of swapping Josh was now a swaggering, cocky bully who loved to fuck spoiled bratty Alpha bitches and help them cheat on their pussy boyfriends. His time as his Aunt had taught him SO much.

"Thanks Auntie," he grinned. "I'm gonna miss those big tits and the feel of three men inside me, but having that slut Ashley or her friend Chloe's tight pussy on the end of my cock will make up for it."

"You're welcome Nephew," purred Aletta happy to be back in her body. "You're lucky you swapped with a real woman. I'm so glad I was able to make you into a real man."

Aletta's personal anti-patriachy program was complete and a total success... Josh was a bully now and she had only learned to be even more evil...

[oumaheroes]

Congrats on 100+ followers, you deserve it! I love your blog and writing! For the writing-promp, how about some outsider pov fruk?

Reflections

Word Count: 1690

Characters: England, France - FrUK, America, Canada

----

‘It’ll be fun!’

‘No, it won’t.’

‘Yes it will,’ America insists, leaning forward to get a better look at the screen. England’s face through the webcam is decidedly unimpressed.

‘I don’t like house parties,’ he says, but America can hear slight resignation already there in his voice and so pushes again to seal the deal.

‘Please? Come on man, it’ll be great. Right after the G20 meeting in Texas too so there’s no work to worry about; just stay one more day for it. And hey, if you don’t like it you can leave.’

England raises an eyebrow, ‘You invited me to stay withyou.’

America shrugs, unbothered, ‘Then don’t! Or, do- whatever. It’s up to you.’

England sighs and looks conflicted. America seizes the opportunity and goes in for the kill, ‘Everyone else will be there too; you don’t wanna get FOMO.’

‘I don’t get FOMO,’ England snaps, looking affronted, and America instantly knows he’s won, ‘But fine, if it means that much to you, I’ll come.’

America tries to school his face into something that doesn’t look too triumphant, ‘Awesome! Kay, so it’ll be casual, no need to dress up or be all fancy or anything.’

‘Yes yes,’ England waves a hand dismissively and shifts in his chair, ‘I know how a house party works. I do go to some, you know.’

‘Cool cool cool, just making sure.’ America can’t really picture England at the sort of house party he is thinking of, people lounging about on furniture and playing silly drinking games. But it must happen, he supposes- he’s seen England drunk in pubs before and he’s boisterous so it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to imagine him in an even more casual setting.

Suddenly, America notes the darkness of England’s surroundings and checks the clock in the bottom corner of his screen, ‘Hey, it’s getting pretty late for you over there, isn’t it? I should let you go.’

England glances at his wrist, entirely ignoring the PC he’s using, ‘Yes, I suppose so. Okay, likely I’ll see you next month then.’

‘No backsies, you said yes,’ America reminds him.

England rolls his eyes, ‘I meant that I won’t see you until then, I already said I was coming; I’ll come.’

‘Good!’ America moves his mouse to end the call, ‘See you there, old man. Try to be fun.’

‘What is that supposed to-‘

‘Bye!’

----

Canada glances about the room and nods, ‘It’s not bad.’

America reels back, ‘Not bad? Dude-‘ he gestures to the living room they’re in the doorway of and then to the pool outside, both places spilling over with nations chatting and enjoying themselves under the beat of the music, ‘-it’s more than not bad!’

It really was, in his humble opinion, probably one of his best in recent years. Nearly everyone had turned up who said they were going to and there had been a steady flow of conversation and dancing all night. America had scoped the place out every now and again, making rounds through the house to make sure there were no stragglers sitting somewhere on their own but there wasn’t a need for it- things had run smoothly without him needing to intervene and everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. This is why he liked house parties, more than any other type of ‘function’. House parties had a more relaxed vibe, where no one felt the need to impress or do themselves up too much (unless you were one of the older ones, that is; it seemed that no matter what you told them they’d still arrive a bit more formally dressed than everyone else, as if they had some sort of inbuilt compulsion).

Things going so well was probably helped, too, by the fact that America had only invited friends and family. One, because inviting the entire world and putting them in one place anywhere would always result in some form of argument, but also because this was his house and he didn’t want it to get trashed, (regardless of what England had groused when he first arrived and had seen the condition of the place).

Canada shrugs and takes a sip of his drink, ‘I’ve been to better.’

America frowns, disappointed, before jostling his arm playfully when he notices the small, guilty shift of Canada’s eye, ‘Stop messing with me.’

Canada grins behind his cup and nudges him back, ‘Well, no one’s dead yet. That’s always good.’

‘Amen to that,’ America raises his glass in a toast which Canada meets and downs the rest of his drink, ‘Want a refill?’

‘Sure.’

‘Come on then, I ain’t your servant.’

Canada gives him a flat look but wordlessly follows America out of the living room and through to the kitchen. Australia’s there with Mexico, digging about in the lower cupboards for something and Denmark is showing Japan a video on his phone that’s making Japan’s eyes go almost unnaturally wide.

‘Alfred mate, what happened to those Tim Tams you promised me?’ Australia stands up from his crouch on the floor and looks at America reproachfully, ‘I feel swindled.’

America opens his mouth to speak but Canada cuts in first, ‘I hid them.’

America turns to him in confusion, ‘Why?’

‘Zea asked me to, seeing as they couldn’t come. Something about what you did to them at Christmas?’

Australia throws up his hands and scoffs, ‘Jesus fuck, when will they get over that. Where are did you put them? Come on, don’t be a dick, I promised Mexico some.’

Mexico shrugs delicately, ‘I don’t really care, to be honest. I just heard they were bad and wanted to see how bad.’

Australia looks down at her scandalised, ‘Who told you that?!’

She readjusts to sit properly on the floor, ‘People.’

‘Yeah, sorry, I’ll get them.’ Canada’s job has been carried out to the minimum requirement and America knows that he’s happy that he can now take himself out of the silly argument New Zealand and Australia have slyly pulled him into. He goes out of the kitchen, leaving his empty cup behind, and America follows him curiously through the hallway in the direction of the study.

‘What did Australia do to Zea at Christmas?’ America has missed out on England’s most recent yearly family function; he’d wanted to go surfing with Hawaii instead.

‘Don’t ask,’ Canada says tiredly, the air of an older sibling who had seen far too much. America is offended Canada hasn’t told him already. He opens his mouth to say as much when Canada goes to open the slightly ajar study door before stopping abruptly in the doorway, causing America to almost crash into him.

‘Hey, what-‘ Canada hurriedly squeezes America’s arm and tugs him sharply away in a warning for quiet, catching his eye before glancing into the room meaningfully. America peers around him into the study, wondering what he’s seen.

At first, he’s not sure what he’s supposed to be looking at; it looks empty. The main study light is off, leaving the room lit only by one table lamp by the sofa that casts a warm, buttery glow about the place, softening the corners with shadows. He looks to Canada for help and Canada tilts his head in the direction of the French doors, eyebrows raised.

America follows his gaze and understands. The darkness outside has turned the glass to mirrors, reflecting the front of the old sofa that America could previously only see the back of. On it are England and France, curled up together with France’s head on England’s chest and England propped against the armrest, one knee brought up high for him to rest an elbow on. He has his other hand in France’s hair and is gently running his fingers through it, long languid strokes that feel entirely too intimate for America to process.

It’s a strange thing for him to see. He has accidentally caught England and France doing other things throughout his life but intimacy isn’t really something they display. They argue. They bicker. They fight and scream and laugh, sometimes, but they do not do this in front of other people, this gentleness. Neither of the two are what anyone could ever consider gentle, even France, for all his intentional touches and flirtations -the soft ghost of his hand on a shoulder or resting warm around a waist- are not this, not personal. France is very free with his physical affections but they are shallow things, meaningless and ordinary. There is something removed and detached about how he moves amongst crowds, gathering himself close about someone to brush against them as he stands that speaks of friendliness yes, but not closeness. Nothing special to note.

But here, curled on a sofa and unaware they are being watched, there are no guards up or cold pretences between them, just a natural, domestic openness that America finds oddly normal, for how little he has seen glimpses of it. England and France together are many things, have experienced every extreme and mundane state possible for two people to experience, and this side of them is just another shade, as hard as it is to find.

France tips his head back more and opens his eyes, crinkling their corners as he murmurs something low under the muted music that causes England’s lips to twitch into a rare, open smile. They could be anyone then, just two people on a sofa, young and mellow, and for a split-second America can’t see them as anything else. The warm mood hides their identity and blurs their age- familiar strangers tucked away on their own.

America jumps, startled, when Canada nudges him, an elbow into his side and he turns to find his brother gesturing with his head back into the hallway.

He agrees. America knows both England and France would be mortified to be caught like this, boneless and out of character around the person they often so openly despise, so it’s best to leave them as they are undisturbed.

Australia can wait, America will squeeze the truth out of Canada about Christmas and maybe take Zea’s side just for fun.

----

AN:

Sorry for the wait anon, but I hope you see this and I hope that you like! Thanks for the ask and for your kind words, this was a lovely prompt and I really liked thinking about how I could do this justice ;u;

<3

[masterthespianduchovny]

I’m going to be honest: I dislike Nate right now.

And that’s perfectly fine.

I understand that this show loves to redeem people, however, as I said in another post, you can only redeem someone if there are negative feelings and/or you believe that person wronged someone or whatever. If you have positive feelings and excuse what they did, what exactly are they being redeemed for?

Despite loving Rebecca’s character, when I rewatch season one, I don’t like her at times. I dislike a lot of what she did back then. It doesn’t matter that I know she tells the truth eventually, the stuff she did was still fucked up. I’m not going to preemptively excuse her actions because I know the end goal.

Take Jamie for instance, his behavior was not okay. We know why he behaves that way, but it still wasn’t justified. We are still allowed to dislike him and what he did then. We talk about the negative effects of the bullying Nate received from the players, yet some try to excuse Nate’s bullying and his actions?

Wrong is wrong. Jamie being verbally abused by his dad didn’t justify how he treated others just like how Nate’s father (and bullying by others) is emotionally abusive doesn’t justify Nate’s behavior.

Although we understand the context, Nate IS being a fucking backstabbing asshole right now. Some may hate to hear that, but this isn’t an unfair opinion or unflattering light of him. This is exactly how he’s behaving.

There are some who has a ton of sympathy for Nate, but I’m not one of them. Please believe, I do hold some sympathy for him, but I have a limit.

So here’s reasons why Nate is on my shitlist and I’ll wait until he’s actually redeemed to forgive him.

1. Calling Rebecca a shrew. It’s not the fact that he literally called Rebecca this, but that he immediately verbally attacked the woman. We can say, “oh no, she’s the owner so he had reasons to think…”

No, Nate literally attacked Rebecca for no reason at all. She had little to no interaction with him and has never disrespected or harmed him in anyway, yet he has these intense feelings of dislike in the moment based off what exactly?

Nate attacked Rebecca because she is a woman. If you disagree, what other reason it might be? The reason I believe it was due to her gender is because she’s been defanged so to speak. So he doesn’t fear her like he used to. But Nate also practices in casual misogyny ie his shoe remark to Rebecca and Keeley. That may not seem like a big thing, but how is that an involuntary response??? With him believing he got fired, he doesn’t wait for answers, he immediately attacks her. And I had to ask myself, would he have done this with a man? With someone like Rupert? No fucking way. Nate can’t even directly challenge Ted who is a ray of sunshine, but attacks someone who he literally ran away from in fear in the pilot. Although Nate respects power, he respects male power the most. He skipped over Ted and Beard and went straight towards Rebecca. The fact that this even happened has always been disturbing to me. And Nate is fucking lucky that he hasn’t said any of his comments to old Rebecca (not age, but personality. 🥺) because she would have fired him. Only due to her relationship with Ted and him getting to let her guard down and find her old self that she frowned and shrugged Nate’s comments off. Most bosses at the very least would’ve talked to Nate and he didn’t get even that.

2. Projecting his daddy issues onto Ted. I understand that nate is going through some tough shit and has been for literally decades, however, that doesn’t mean make someone your stand in dad because they were nice and kind. Ted treats Nate like he does the other coaches, but Nate wants a special and unique relationship that will never exist. Ted is not his father and he didn’t ask for the job or the responsibilities.

I understand that people go through shit and latch onto those who made the rough times easier. I get that. However, all this animosity, scheming, and resentment because Ted isn’t giving the attention he wants. That fucking unfair to Ted. He didn’t ask or sign up to be Nate’s father figure. Yet he’s being punished for not being something he never wanted to be. Never even thought about it.

And because I’ve seen/partially experienced this shit, people getting mad at you for not being who they projected onto, it makes me upset at Nate. Because people like this really do become resentful and manipulative and that is not okay despite their own hurt that they’re dealing with. Why does the person you projected on have to suffer for something they’re unaware of and have no obligation to fulfill?

Nate isn’t just trying to blow up Ted’s professional career, he’s doing it via one of the cruelest ways: using his mental health against him. Thereby exploiting Ted’s trust in him.

Ted has literally changed Nate’s life for the better and rather than have a man to man talk with him, he cowardly tries to sabotage Ted in one of the worst ways imaginable.

3. His cognitive dissonance about how coaching works!!!

This seriously irritates me because, on some level, Nate knows that the very system he’s criticizing is how it works across ALL team sports and with reason.

He wants to be a damn head coach soooo bad—does he think ideas, plans, plays, etc only comes from head coaches???

What does he think assistants are there for?

For those who aren’t familiar with sports and coaching, literally every team sport has a head coach and then assistants under them. These assistant typically specialize in a given thing.

In American football, I believe there are like defensive coaches, strength and conditioning coaches, etc. there are coaches who watch a lot of tapes to learn the opposition and how to make plays to hold them exploit their weakness and tailor plays around that.

Like on the professional level there are so many types of coaches and, hell, not all of them want to be head coaches. Some of the greatest coaching minds aren’t head coaches.

For example, the American basketball team the Chicago bulls fired their coach Doug Collins in like 1989, I think. He was a good coach, but one of his assistant coaches had a basketball IQ out of this world. Doug refused to listen to him, but management fully supported this assistant coach. Now the other assistant coach they were grooming to take over, Phil Jackson, if you’ve heard of him, DID listen to this basketball genius. So much so that when he became head coach after Doug was fired, he continued to implement The Triangle offense that came from this basketball genius, which Phil was known for until he retired.

Nate’s upset that Ted gets all the credit for if they win, he does realize that Ted also gets all the blame for if they lose. Ted has always highlighted his coaching staff and everyone who helped him. He has always stressed that he wouldn’t be where he is without them. And when he loses, he takes full ownership. He doesn’t pass the blame at all.

Does Nate seem like someone who’d take ownership for losing?

Does Nate seem like someone, at this moment, who’d appropriately give credit to assistant or anyone else who helped him?

Would he even listen?

What makes Ted a great coach is that he gives others opportunities to step up to the plate and if/when they succeed, he allows them to shine.

Ted sees the fuller picture, for the most part, and knows how to address his weaknesses and who’s stronger than him in what area. He realized that the team needed a presence like Roy on the team. He knew he needed someone like beard who could absorb insane amounts of knowledge. He saw that Nate had potential coaching ability.

But Nate doesn’t understand the importance or value of this. He also doesn’t understand how instrumental Ted’s philosophy has been in transforming the culture of the team. That this is also a reason why the team is playing better.

So like, yeah, I’ll forgive Nate when he’s redeemed. But these three things are what really irks me about him. Just because I understand why he is acting this way doesn’t mean I have to excuse it when he’s being a dick to others, complaining about shit only due to his ego, and doing fucked up shit like leaking someone’s mental health struggles so he can gain an advantage over them.

Does he think that if Ted leaves/gets fired that he’s getting the job??? I mean hopefully whatever he has going on with Rupert works out (before it inevitably goes wrong) because this isn’t going to turn out how he thinks it will.

[shyestofhearts]

Hi Shy~

Sooo, I have this headcanon that Damian is like this wonderful child prodigy genius. Like, super smart. So smart, that when Bruce tries to enroll him in Gotham academy, they tell him that Damian has tests for college level. Which, Damian just rolls his eyes at, because duh. After discussing it with professionals and yada yada, Damian gets enrolled into college. He’s like, twelve-ish. He is STILL bored in class, and knows most of the information they are trying to teach. His advisor is so sweet and invested into Damian though. And observant. After noticing Damian lack of enthusiasm, he asks Damian what the problem. Nothing interests him, none of his classes.this advisor is an old timer, in my opinion, and has seen so many kids pushed to do things they never wanted to do, and decides he can’t let that happen with Damian. So the Advisor pulls out every department, every major, and goes through it with Damian. After a few hours, because it takes a while to convince Damian that it is alright to do anything he wants, Damian has his majors narrowed down to a few things. Art and pre-med. Damian’s advisor suggests he visit a few of the clubs on campus to really get a feel of what he wants. Thing is, even after going to the students’ art club gallery and one of the pre-med club meetings, neither really speak to him. It’s a Saturday night, and he’s alone on campus. Damian is about to call Alfred, when a student from Damian’s organic chemistry class spots him.

“Damian!” Jace, a slightly round student with soft curly hair smiles at Damian. “Are you here for the show?”

“Show?” Damian scowls?

“Yeah, the fashion show. This year’s theme is sustainability,” Jace smiles. They one of the few people who never ogled at Damian for being a Wayne or looked down on him for his age. They are just genuinely nice, and Damian knows that.

“I didn’t know we had a fashion show,”

“Really? I swear I thought I mentioned it,” Jace says, surprised. Jace may have mentioned that, but Damian probably was zoned out during the time.“Tickets are $15, if you wanna come”

“Oh,” Damian frowns, “I used all the money I brought with me for the art gallery and lunch earlier,” He says, cursing internally for not bringing more cash with him.

“If you want to go, I’ll cover you.” Jace smiles, “Think of it as payment for help on our last exam” Damian would usually say no, but Jace is just so nice,

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! Besides,” Jace smiles, turning towards the stadium, “I have a feeling you’re going to love it”

And Damian did love it. The designs were amazing, some more haute couture while others were casual, and each designer explained how their designs involved sustainability. Some were statement pieces, designed to address political issues, others were just to demonstrate that sustainability could still be cute, and while others highlighted affordability and sustainability.

Damian wanted to do this. Running through his head were endless possibilities. Perhaps he can enlist the help of Poison Ivy to create a vegan leather that was also bullet resistant, or…

The next Monday he is waiting for his advisor at 7 in the morning, because he spent the rest of the weekend coming up with ideas, sketches, creating a portfolio, and practicing hypothetical arguments as to why Damian should go into fashion. At 7:15 his advisor sees him, and can tell by the light in Damian’s eyes, determination on his face, and the way he’s clutching his sketchbook, Damian has found it.

“I want into the fashion program!” Damian all but bursts, unconsciously on his tippy toes in excitement.

“Okay,” His advisor smiles, ushering him into his office. “Let’s make it happen”

“Just like that?” Damian asks, eyes wide, voice surprisingly small. His advisor smiles at him kindly.

“I’ll do whatever I can to make it happen.”

It takes a bit before Damian can actually get into the program, he has to work on some prerequisites, and also create a better portfolio with samples, but Damian is determined. By the end of the school year, he has been accepted.

Damian doesn’t tell his family, not in the beginning. He actually doesn’t want to tell his friends either, unsure of how they’d react. He is still insecure, and just entering his teen years. He worries about what any or everyone will say. Eventually, though he tells Jon and Colin, swearing them to secrecy. They both are excited for him, asking if he’d design their costumes for them. Damian blushes but says,

“Tt, like you can afford me”

He eventually tells Alfred as well, because he needs help learning how to use a sewing machine, and fast. Sure, he can stitch someone up flawlessly, but sewing machines weren’t part of the League’s lessons. Alfred is in charge of the one at the Manor, so it only makes sense to ask him. Even so, Damian is reluctant. When he does finally ask, he nearly gives himself an attack, worrying about being scolded for not using his “full potential”. Alfred simply squeezes Damian’s shoulder, and agrees with a kind smile. The young Master finally seemed passionate about something besides vigilante work and violence. Alfred would do everything in his power to foster that.

“Just,” Damian looks down, hands clenching into fists at his side, “Do not tell the others. I would prefer this between us,” He looks at Alfred, unsuccessfully trying to hide the vulnerability in his wide emerald eyes. Alfred agrees, for now. On the conditions that Damian would have to tell his father and siblings himself, and not to far in the future either.

Damian impresses everyone with his designs, and people learn he is actually quite adorable when he’s doing something he enjoys. His classmates and professors encourage him to join the fall fashion show, which is covering “multiculturalism and the media”. Damian hesitantly agrees, though he has been making designs since the theme was announced. His room is full of crumbled paper on his floor, designs he deigned not good enough. Many of his designs are heavily influenced by his Arab culture, but he also has some Chinese-influenced designs as well. His statement piece is the hardest to get right. It involves a hijab and beautiful colors, but he just can’t get the right patter. Ripping another page and crumpling it,Damian is too concentrated to realized Tim and Dick have been creeping into his room.

“What’s this Dames?” Dick asks, startling Damian, as he looks at some of the rejected designs. Panic makes Damian defensive as he yells at them to get out, frustration fueling the dread of his family seeing such unsatisfactory work. Tim flinches, shocked by the emotion coming off of Damian, rushing out with a few crumpled papers he snuck from the floor. Damian is literally trying to shove Dick out the door. Dick turns around, because he can hear the panic in his little brother’s voice. In his Robin’ voice. “Damian,” he says softly, easily deflecting Damian. “It’s okay,” he says, wrapping his arms around Damian, reversing the situation. “What’s wrong, why are you reacting like this?” After a few minutes of struggling, Damian gives up. Slowly,he explains the situation, how he’s in the fashion program and the fashion show coming up, all the pressure to do well, the frustration of not having his statement piece yet. Dick listens, his hold turning into a hug. “From what I’ve seen,” Dick says softly, “these are all wonderful designs,Dami. Whatever you end up making will look amazing, if they look anything like your sketches.”

“It’s not enough!” Damian complains, eyes burning, but he refuses to cry. “You don’t understand!” He says, frustrated.

“Then explain it to me, why is this so important?”

“Because it is about me!” Damian’s voice cracks ask he turns away rosiness his eyes harshly. “When I was introduced to the public, as “Bruce Wayne’s biological son”, do you not remember how the newspapers reacted? They didn’t know me, or my mother, but because—because of my skin, the country I was born, I was mistrusted. Scorned. Yeah, maybe I’ve killed people, but that isn’t because of my skin color or my culture or the language I speak. I have this opportunity to speak out against that!” Damian turns to look at Dick, “I’ve tried to become better, to do better. It’s hard and unfair that none of that matters, because guests are invited to galas hosted in the house that I live in, only to make snide racist comments about “nukes” or the desert or bombs whenever Father and you all aren’t around me. How can I be better, when I’m not given the chance because people can’t see past my skin?” Dick wraps Damian into a tight hug, as wetness drips down Damian’s cheeks. “I’ve been here nearly four years—and it still happens” Damian whispers.

“Why didn’t you say anything Dami?”

“What could I say?” Damian whispers back,

“Bruce—”

“Invites these people because they are important to Wayne Enterprise.” He scoffs. “What could you do, especially if I have no proof?”

“Believe me, Damian,” Dick says seriously, pulling back to look into Damian’s eyes. “Bruce won’t invite anyone who’s racist or derogatory towards his children, back to a gala, let alone do business with him again.” He smiles a hard somewhat vicious smile. “I know because when I was first adopted, he did that for me” Damian’s eyes widen. “And if Bruce can’t defend you, you can bet your brothers will,” Damian looks unsure, but nods. “But I get it now. You’ve always used art to vent and express yourself. This design is something that would allow you to address what the media has done to and said about you.”

“It’s been,” Damian shrugs, looking down, “therapeutic. In a way I never imagined it would be.”

“Well, I think, whatever you end up designing will be amazing,” Dick smiles, and Damian looks up at the sincerity, giving his own smile smile in response. “And I expect an invitation to the fashion show!” He chuckles, causing Damian to blush. “And I bet the whole family would want to come as well,” Damian blushes, looking away once more.

“Tickets are $15 each, and available online,” Damian replies, making Dick belly laugh. “You can invite the others, if you’d like” Damian mumbles.

“Hmm,how ‘bout I invite the siblings while you invite your dad,” Damian grumbles, but agrees. “Great! Now, take a break. One night not designing won’t hurt you.” Dick says, wrapping his arm around Damian’s shoulder. ‘Might do you some good, in fact.”

Things get better after that, because after his talk with Dick, Damian gets an idea for his design. Ziba, a Persian student Damian met in his Literature class, agreed to be his model for his statement piece. She wore her hijab proudly, a solid black color, which helped with the down-to-business look the rest of the outfit screamed. Ziba’s makeup was beautiful, as Damian was putting the last touches on her. They both were quiet, nervous excitement pulsing through them both. Ziba had on white trousers that flared out a bit, to give an almost flowy feel, with black basic vegan leather square pointed toe mule flat accented by a silver buckle. Damian had made the top a cross between a tunic, a blazer, and a cape. It is white, and goes over a plain solid black turtleneck. Printed on both the buttoned blazer tunic top and the trousers are past racist articles written about Damian. In red graffiti styled letters sprayed across the news paper articles are phrases like “Lies” “Warped Perception” “Western POV” “Racist” “I was only 10”. The red paint matches the red lipstick Ziba is wearing.

Damian was nervous with his family in the audience, everyone including Alfred was there. Apparently Superman and Superboy were in attendance too, as civilians of course. Colin was there too. Damian had told his father about the fashion show, and was surprised to see how supportive he was about it. Of course that may have been the shock, as Damian had told him that morning before leaving for school. Bruce blinked, stood up and hugged Damian, before saying he couldn’t wait for the show.

Damian’s set is the last, ask the show is in alphabetical order according to last names. When it’s his turn, all of his model’s line up, and Damian is running around making sure everything is perfect. He hears the speaker introduce his collection, inviting Damian to join him on stage. Damian rushes out, brown cheeks turn red. Together they introduce all seven outfits of the collection one by one, as Damian describes his designs, the material, and the inspiration behind each one. When it get’s to Ziba’s turn, Damian’s nearly choked up. He manages to discuss this piece and it’s significance to him. At the end, Damian received a standing ovation from nearly everyone. Looking over at his family, he has to duck from hiding his flamed cheeks. All his siblings were cheering for him, while Bruce and Dick dab their eyes. Alfred has a proud look on his face, and Damian couldn’t have been happier.

He ends up getting second place, but also his own work room at the Manor. Damian begins selling his work after getting it patented (Tim demanded it), and is surprised when a number of orders are for the galas around Gotham. Dick told Bruce and the others about all the things Damian has been hearing at Galas, and they are justifiably angry. Duke begins chants of “Eat the Rich” every time he hears someone says something problematic about Damian, and that because Tim’s signal on who to take down next.

Damian’s designs become more widely popular as his family starts wearing them, as they love talking about it and how he uses sustainable methods and materials. This earns him big named clients, who start wearing Damian’s designs on the Red Carpet and premiers . Damian also likes to do work for charity, often donating dresses to high schoolers who cannot afford prom dresses or making clothes out of extra material to donate to shelters so people have clothes for job interviews and such.

(He also makes his pets clothes when he’s bored, so it’s normal to see Titus wearing a doggy hoodie with slits in it for his ears)

ANYWAYS, this is my headcanon lol

What do think about it?

—🧵🪡

Headcanon?? Bestie this a whole ass au!

As for my thoughts-

💳 💥💥 💳 💥💥💥 💳 💥💥💥💥

[css1992]

Guilty Pleasure

[Porn AU]

Summary: Peter and Beck used to be a power couple in the porn industry, but after Beck dumps him, Peter is forced to start over. With no money, no family and nowhere to go, he doesn’t have much choice other than to keep doing porn, so he joins Just4Fans to get back on his feet and then one day he gets a very generous tip from someone under the username of YKWIM.

Warnings: 18+, explicit, references to past non-con/rape (not between main pairing, not explicit), daddy kink, Peter in lingerie, references to gaslighting and abusive relationship (not between main pairing, not explicit). The warnings are for the story as whole, not for this chapter specifically. I’ll add more in the future, if needed.

Read on AO3

Part I / Part II / Part III / Part IV / Part V / Part VI / Part VII / Part VIII / Part IX / Part X /  Part XI / Epilogue

-x-

“He can’t do this!” Ned slammed his hands down on the counter between them, as Peter took a swig of the cheap wine he bought with the last ten bucks he had in his wallet. “He isn’t even in all of the videos, at least half of the money is rightfully yours!” He kept going, stating the obvious, but Peter just sighed and shrugged.

“I’m not disagreeing with you, Ned, I’m just relaying what he told me: he’s not gonna give me anything. It’s his channel, his equipment, the money from the subscriptions goes straight to his bank account, so it’s his. It’s all his. His words, by the way.” He took another swig of wine straight from the bottle. He had been drinking from a small glass Ned offered him – he wasn’t a pirate – but it soon proved to be too small to quench his pain, so. Yeah. Pirate style it was.

“You have to sue his ass, Peter, he can’t get away with this,” MJ intervened. She was sitting next to him on a stool by the kitchen counter, so he turned to look at her with a deep frown on his face.

“Did you not hear me saying I just spent my last ten dollars on this bottle of wine? I have, like, twenty four cents left in my pocket. And that’s it. I can’t hire a lawyer, I can’t even feed myself right now!” He raised his voice a little, but quickly got himself back under control and apologized. His friends were not to blame for his predicament – they did try to warn him Beck was bad news, he didn’t want to listen. “And you know what? I don’t give a fuck. He can choke on all of it if he wants, the videos, the money, the subscribers, I don’t fucking care.” It wasn’t true, of course. Well, partially. He really didn’t care about the money, videos, subscribers, etc, but he cared about Beck. He would have given everything else up if it meant he could keep him.

Which was stupid of him, of course. But he certainly wasn’t winning any awards for being a great decision maker.

“It’s still not fair. I mean, I knew that guy was sleazy, but you’d think he’d have the decency to at least give you something, you know? You’ve been together for three years, he’s been making money off your ass for almost as long. How could he just fucking kick you out and not give you a single dime? After all the money you’ve made for him? It’s fucking sick, that guy is fucking psychopath if you ask me.” MJ’s face was turning red from anger, which made Peter smile a little. It felt good to know he was loved by someone, even if he hadn’t been the best friend to them for the past few years.

The thought made him close his eyes for a second, guilt creeping over him. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d called either of them – maybe on Ned’s birthday, almost two months earlier. They used to be inseparable, the three of them; the three musketeers, as corny and lame as it sounded. For years, those two were the only family he knew, but when Beck came into his life, everything changed.

Stupid fucking Beck.

Peter used to think of him as his own personal super-hero – it did feel like he had come to save him, after all. They met when he was seventeen, he had been living in foster homes for almost seven years by then, after Ben and May passed away. At the time, he was with his fifth family, and there were so many children in that house, so many of them came and went, that their foster parents didn’t really keep tabs most of the time. It was easy to sneak out, and Peter did, often.

He met Beck on one of his night walks – and their first meeting should have raised all kinds of red flags, but for whatever reason, it didn’t. Beck slowed the car next to him, rolled down the window and asked how much Peter charged for a blowjob. Just like that. The teen gasped at first, but when he looked around for a moment, he realized he wasn’t in the most family friendly neighborhood. There were, in fact, some men and women around him who definitely looked like they were there for that, but Peter was in sweats, for crying out loud, and he definitely looked his age – or even younger than that.

His wide eyes must have given him away, because the older man quickly apologized and showed him a charming, white smile. He made up some excuse about mistaking him for someone else and the boy said it was ok. He was going to keep walking when Beck asked what his name was. Then how old he was. Then where he was going, where he ha come from.

Looking back, Peter knew he should have run. He should have left, because there was no excuse for an adult man like him to keep asking a teenager so many questions right after he basically offered him money to suck his dick. But that Peter, that 17-year-old boy, was still a bit too naive. To have such a handsome man showing interest in him – his kind, blue eyes smiling at him, warm and safe – was inebriating. He actually looked at him. And cared. At least Peter thought he did at the time. And he was so lonely back then, even that little bit of attention meant the world to him.

He should have run, but he stayed. Should have run, but got in his car. Should have run, but ended up giving him a clumsy hand job in the backseat, after just a few sweet promises whispered in his eager ears. Beck was so good with words, he could have convinced Peter to jump off a bridge that very same night if he wanted.  

They exchanged phone numbers. For weeks, they texted and called each other, until they could  meet again. By then, he was smitten. At twenty, he could see how innocent he had been, how trusting and open he was with a complete stranger. A 32 year-old stranger, at that. Ned and MJ, his only friends from school, warned him that it wasn’t okay. That it was weird for a man his age to be interested in a teenage boy, but Peter said they were wrong. He said he wasn’t just a regular kid, he had been through stuff they could only imagine. He was mature and experienced, and Beck could see that, which was why he liked him.

Looking back now, it was embarrassing how wrong he was. Beck was an illusionist. Sad thing was everyone could see the trapdoor but him.

“So what are you gonna do now?” MJ asked, fishing another bottle of wine from under the counter and placing it in front of Peter, who almost cried in gratitude.

“You mean besides crying myself to sleep for the next few months?” He wasn’t really joking. The only reason he wasn’t crying right at that moment was because he had spent almost three hours bawling his eyes out on a park bench close to their – well, Beck’s – apartment, hoping against hope that Beck would reconsider and come after him. When it became clear it wasn’t going to happen, he headed to the only place he knew he could find refuge – even if he didn’t deserve it.

“Yeah, besides that, obviously.” She opened the wine bottle and before he could take it and drink straight from it, she poured three glasses and Peter sighed, defeated.

“I have no idea.” He answered, only slightly surprised that he actually meant it. He had absolutely no clue what to do. For three years, he hadn’t had to worry about money – or anything, really. Beck took care of everything and he just assumed it would always be like that. That he would always have him by his side to take care of him.

He rubbed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

“Are you going to keep doing porn?” Ned asked, a worried expression on his face. Peter remembered he hated the idea when Beck first suggested it, as soon as he turned eighteen.

People are gonna lose it, Beck said. A pretty little twink and a hot daddy? We’re going to be a hit.

And they were. Their first videos blew up quickly, people were either disgusted by the thought of them together – because of the age gap – or completely enthralled. The haters helped them get more views, and Peter soon learned that there really was no such thing as bad publicity. Beck promoted their videos on twitter, where they accumulated thousands of followers. Peter remembered that, back then, many people sent him worried messages, saying he was too young, that Beck was a predator, that he was taking advantage of him.

In retrospect, they might have been right, after all.

He wasn’t too sure about doing porn when they first started, he knew once they released the first video, there was no going back, there was no way they could ever take it down – the internet was forever. Nothing was ever truly deleted. He wanted to be a dad someday, what if his children ever saw those videos in the future? What would have Ben and May thought? What about his parents?

None of this matters, honey, Beck assured him. These kids don’t even exist yet, don’t worry about them. And your relatives, well… They’re gone, sweetie. You can’t really disappoint them anymore.

So Peter did it. And he was terrified at first, he felt so exposed, people all over the world could see him in his most vulnerable moments, all of him, in every position Beck managed to put him in, in any outfit he thought the public might like, in any setting he thought might bring in more viewers, more subscribers, more money.

Soon, just the two of them weren’t enough. Their viewers wanted to see Peter with other people – other daddies –  and Beck saw another opportunity to increase his profit. Peter was strongly against the idea at first, it felt too much like prostitution, which was where he wanted to draw the line, but, again, Beck sweet-talked him into it.

It’s nothing like prostitution, honey, he said. I’ll be there the whole time, I’ll be the one filming and directing, I’ll be the one paying the other actors, all the profits are ours. How is that anything like prostitution? It’s just like what we’ve been doing so far.

So not only there were a bunch of videos of him and Beck out there in the world, there were also lots of videos of him with other men, some of whom were old enough to be his actual dad. There was even one video in particular that he was specially embarrassed by – and sadly enough, that was the most viewed one so far. It was fucking humiliating.

At some point, Peter should have realized it became all about money for Beck – and maybe it had been like that all along, he just hadn’t noticed before. Over the last few months of their relationship, they never had sex just for fun, just for the hell of it. There were always cameras, and lights, and roles to play. Beck never said he loved him anymore. Barely touched him. Barely kissed him. He should have seen it coming. He had been too blind, or just… Didn’t want to see what was happening right before his eyes. He ignored all the signs. The voice in the back of his head telling him something was off.

But anyway, porn. Could he still do it?

“I don’t know,” he answered, finally. He looked at his best friends and sighed with a shrug. “To be honest, it was never something I enjoyed, and I don’t know if I could ever do it without him somehow involved, you know? I did it with him because I felt… Safe? I don’t want to get involved in the actual porn industry, I’ve heard some pretty fucked up stories.” Peter had heard horror stories about other boys in the industry, and even though his own story was no fairy tale, there was nothing so bad that it couldn’t get worse.

“How about Just4Fans?” MJ asked and both Peter and Ned turned to look at her in shock. “What? You guys were pretty popular, right? You won awards and shit, so there must be at least a few hundred people out there who would pay money to see some dirty pictures of you, maybe some short videos. That way you won’t need to go into professional porn and you wouldn’t need a partner, but you could still make decent money. And fast.”

Well, it actually made sense. It wasn’t like there weren’t hundreds of videos of him being fucked raw all over the internet, anyway. A few dirty pictures couldn’t hurt. And besides, it didn’t need to be forever, just until he figured something out.

“That’s… actually not a bad idea,” he conceded, drinking the last of the wine in his glass. MJ sympathetically filled it up again and he mumbled his thanks.

“What do you think he will do now?” Ned asked carefully, and Peter shrugged for what felt like the hundredth time. There was so much he didn’t know.

“Probably keep shooting videos with his new boy-toy.” He managed to say it with a steady voice, but his eyes burned. He still couldn’t believe how… replaceable Beck thought he was.

When he noticed them interacting online a few months earlier, before the boy was even eighteen, Peter was alarmed, but when he confronted the older man about it, he said he was crazy and seeing things, picking up fights for no reason. He always twisted things in a way that, somehow, Peter was the one apologizing to him in the end.

Months later, just weeks after the kid turned eighteen, there he was – homeless, penniless and lost – meanwhile the other guy was probably getting comfortable in his bed. If Peter didn’t hate the kid, he would pity him. In a few years, he would probably meet the same fate.

“Do you think he would take the videos down if you asked?” Ned asked, and Peter scoffed.

“Yeah, right, those videos will still make him a lot of money monthly, he’d never delete them.” And Peter would have to live with the fact that he would always be just one google search away from complete humiliation and exposure. If he ever tried to get a serious job, those videos would stand in the way. If he ever managed to meet somebody decent and good, those videos would be a testament to what sort of person he was in the past. Fuck, some of them were really fucked up.

“So… Should we create fake twitter accounts to trash talk his short dick or what?” MJ was already grabbing her phone and Peter laughed halfheartedly, shaking his head.

“He’s not worth it. Karma will take care of him, I’m sure.” He drank the last of his wine and whimpered sadly. “So… Can I crash with you guys for a few days? I promise I’m not gonna overstay my welcome! I’ll be out of your hair as soon as the Just4Fans thing works out.”

“Of course you can, nerd, stay as long as you need. We’ve got your back, c’mon.” MJ got up from her stool and gestured for him to do the same. “Do you mind taking the couch?” She asked as she headed to her bedroom in the tiny apartment.

“Not at all,” he answered with a sigh of relief, then went to grab his suitcase by the door. Three years together and that was all he had to show for it. A single suitcase with a few changes of clothes, after being kicked out of the house on a cold February night. His eyes burned but he took a deep breath, blinking them rapidly to avoid the tears.  

“Then make yourself at home. Our casa es su casa.” MJ placed a pillow on the couch and handed him a thick, warm blanket.

“We’ll figure something out, okay?” Ned clasped him on the shoulder with a gentle smile on his face.

“Okay.” He sighed, feeling like a weight had been lifted off his crushed chest.

He waited for his friends to go into their respective rooms, waited to hear their quiet snores, before he allowed the tears to run freely down his face, replaying everything Beck said to him when he kicked him out.

Before he knew it, he was a sobbing a little, so he buried his face in the pillow to muffle the noise, as he tried to convince himself that things were going to be okay, that he was going to be okay. But at that moment, that was hard to believe.

[lady-literature]

Ok, we've seen Bio!Dad Bruce, Adopted!Dad Bruce, and both adopted and blood siblings for nearly all the robins. Now consider Bio!Mom Marinette. She's got the looks to be a Wayne, so do Jason/Tim/Dick. Imagine one of them being her actual son and then meeting Bruce. Imagine something happening and Marinette is separated from her child so Bruce adopts said child until she can come get them. Imagine all the different scenarios.

I have said it once, and i shall say it again: I fuck with mominette

but, hmmmmmmm. this is a tricky one. I can’t imagine that there would be much that could keep Mari away from her child for long enough for Bruce to need to adopt them. Unless she was presumed dead or, perhaps, previously knew Batman/Bruce and left them in his care and then something magical/inter-dimensional went wrong so she’s MIA for a bit (which, if he then turned around and made them a child hero I can only imagine the thrashing he’d receive when she came back).

keeping with backstories as much as possible I suppose it’d look like this:

The Flying Graysons are not a duo but a trio. Mary and John and Marinette, who are all as in sync as any three people could be. It’s no secret in the circus that, while Mary and John are the ones who are married, Mari is hardly the third wheel in their act. Mary and Mari have been together longer than they’ve known John, and when the three discuss children, it’s always Mari who they agree should carry the child.

(Mary’s life is in the sky, but Mari has always been able to flit back and forth. She can stand to keep her feet on the ground for a few months, but Mary always jokes that it would kill her.)

It’s Mary who gets final say on the name, and soon, Richard John Grayson is born to three loving parents and an extended family in the circus they all call home.

but when Dick is eight, Mari is called away for business, whether miraculous or fashion or simply friend related, it doesn't quite matter. She chooses to go on her own, for one reason or another and when she kisses each of her little family goodbye, she does not know it will be the last.

Mari doesn’t hear about their deaths until she catches back up with the circus a week later and when she does they break the news. she almost collapses with grief before the rage distracts her. because Haly explains to her that Dick is gone. That he’s an orphan now even though Marinette is his mother too.

(She’s had the name Grayson for years. all her official documents say Marinette Grayson. The fucking idiots in charge of this whole joke of an investigation seemed to have believed that Mary was a nickname, and no one would listen to her son when he cried about a second mother.)

and then, before she can storm in and demand the incompetent Gotham forces fix this Dick is already being bundled up and brought to Wayne Manor. Which is just,, great.

Mari’s never punched a billionaire before, but she supposes there’s a first time for everything.

***

(and yeah, i know Catherine wasn’t actually his mom but Shelia can choke for all i care about her) or like this:

It’s not drug addiction that takes his mother, but Jason gets to watch her fade all the same.

It’s a different sort of poison, but it’s just as deadly and painful.

The very air in Gotham suffocates her, digs into her skin and winds around her heart like a vice, turning her veins thick, inky black.

Gotham is killing her slowly, but their only alternative is her dying quickly instead. If his mother was to step foot outside of Gotham she would burn, a supernova on earth. 

Her miraculous was shattered, broken while she wielded it and the backlash was enough to send her to this death-life. her miraculous shattered and so did she.

His mother is broken and wrong but no matter how much Jason tries he cannot fix it.

He watches his mother wither away to ashes and later—when he is more man than boy and has tasted the death that took away the only person who ever seemed to give a damn about him—he wears her colors in remembrance. 

***

Marinette married Jack Drake out of obligation more than any sense of love.

But, she supposed, it could have been worse. Jack is not a cruel man and he’s gone on business more often than not, which leaves her and their son and the servants of the manor.

It’s not the life she wanted, but it’s far from terrible. Tim is the light of her life, and regardless of her feelings for his father, she adores him just as she always knew she would.

They are as close as Mother and son can be, which means she notices when he starts disappearing for long periods of time. At first she had believed him to be taking pictures—he’s grown very fond of photography and Marinette encouraged creativity at every opportunity—and well. Technically she isn’t wrong.

She stares at her son unamused when he tries to use that argument.

he’s oddly tight lipped about why he’s been following around Batman, and it takes all her skill in prodding and teasing out her son’s worries to get him to speak.

“Batman needs help,” he finally tells her. “Bruce Wayne needs help.”

And, oh. Well then.

“Okay,” she says simply, already planning how best to approach this situation. grief is a tricky thing and her and Bruce aren’t exactly close.

“He needs a Robin,” Tim insists then and multiple pieces suddenly click in her mind.

“No. Absolutely not.”

“But-”

“No. You are not going out and fighting crime at your age! If you think he needs a partner so much, then I’ll do it.”

if Tim is put out by being told he can’t go out and fight crime with Batman, it is very much overshadowed by the idea of his mom going out and fighting crime with Batman.

(Before the end of the week, Marinette has taken Tim over to Wayne manor and all but forced themselves on the household.

In six months, Nightingale takes to the streets of Gotham, fluttering at Batman’s side like she’s always been there.

In a year, Marinette has spoken to Jack—who gives his blessing which she appreciates even if she hadn’t needed it—and she begins spending more nights in Bruce’s bed than she does her own.)

[justcourttee]

So you are one of my favorite writers for the Maribat Fandom and this is litterally like just on the edge getting ready to dive into barely there territory. . . but imagine Chloe "Queen B" Bourgeois deciding that Roy Harper is her future husband because he is the only one her age with the potential to even hyphenate Queen. She /will/ get her title in her civilian life if she has to drag Roy to the courthouse herself. Cue shenanigans and chaos friends to lovers lol

You’re so sweet and I hope I did your prompt justice. I love the Roy X Chloe energy and this is just something I could picture cannon Chloe trying. I hope you enjoy! @risaxtitan

The Future Mrs. Queen

The day Oliver Queen announced to the world in that fated press conference that he was adopting Roy Harper, the younger boy had no idea how much his life was about to change.

He was still floating on Cloud 9 as he stepped off of the stage and into the crowd where his friends awaited him.

“Dude, congrats! It’s like all official now!” Adrien clapped him on the back, causing him to stumble forward a little.

“It still feels unreal.”

“Tt, it’s not like your his blood son, but I suppose this will be a good opportunity for you.”

Roy cocked his head to the side as he tried to debate if Damian was congratulating him or not. A small smack echoed following an ‘oof’ as Marinette’s bright smile entered his view.

“I’m so happy for you Roy! Conner, Jon, and Wally wanted to come with us, but you know how it goes. Always a mission somewhere.”

Roy shook his head, the smile still plastered across his face.

“It’s fine Mari, it’s not like today was the real thing. This was just a press conference. They were there when we officially signed the papers and that’s what matters in my book.”

“So, like, is your last name officially Queen now?”

Roy’s attention snapped to his left where a familiar blonde stepped out from behind Adrien. She fiddled with the ends of her curled hair, her mischievous blue eyes locked onto his. Certainly if a beautiful girl like her had told him her name, he wouldn’t have forgotten it.

“I suppose so. It’s officially Roy William Harper-Queen.”

Her smile was blinding as he nervously reached back to rub the back of his very warm neck.

“Oh Gods, we are so dense! I’m sorry Roy! This is my friend Chloe Bourgeois! Adrien was supposed to introduce you two earlier, but we all got separated in the crowd. She’s a big fan of Oliver Queen, so when she heard my dear friend was getting adopted by him-”

“I just had to come.” She stepped in front of Marinette, reaching forward to grab his hand. “Did you know that I tried to legally change my name to Queen? But my mother wouldn’t let me! She’s ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Something about it wouldn’t be good for my modeling career or whatever. But now, you can help me with that! Can’t be bad if it’s my husband’s last name.”

Roy stumbled out of her grasps, his entire face matching the red on his head.

“Hu-husband? Girl, we just met. You can’t go around saying things like that!”

Chloe waved off his embarrassment as her blinding smile pulled into a mischievous smirk.

“Like it or not Roy Harper-Queen, you will be my husband, even if I have to drag you to the courthouse myself!”

“Yeah right blondie.” He couldn’t help the stutter in his voice as he hid behind Damian’s chuckling figure.

There was no denying how attractive she was, but he would be damned if he let a pretty blonde step in and seal his fate.

“Maybe not today, but you’re going to love me Roy Harper-Queen, just you wait.”

The flip of her hair felt like a slap across his face as he watched her retreating figure dragging Marinette with her.

“So like, Can I be your best man? I know that you’ve known the other’s longer and all, but like we are always hanging out together! That has to count for something.”

Adrien’s wide eyes and pout earned a slight chuckle from the redhead as his eyes trailed back to where his friends stood.

“Sure Agreste, I’m sure everyone won’t mind one bit. You might have to fight Tim-”

“Tt, is that supposed to be a threat?”

Adrien and Roy shared a look before bursting into laughter. Roy slung his arms around the two boys as they headed off into the crowd. He wouldn’t see Chloe for another couple of weeks, but that didn’t stop the blonde from monopolizing his every thought.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“C’mon Arsenal, you really going to let your ass get beat by a little girl?”

Roy sneered as he pushed himself off the matt for the third time that day.

When Dick asked if he wanted to train with the Batclan, Roy was over the moon. Batman hardly let anyone into his special training spot without him being there. He didn’t think twice when he put the motorcycle in park outside of Wayne Manor. He already knew what to expect, Dick’s flexibility, Stephanie’s strategy, Damian’s rage. What he wasn’t expecting was to see a certain blonde and his two friends.

“She’s not beating my ass Stephanie, I just don’t want to hurt her.”

Dick had a hard time holding back his laugh as he leaned on Marinette for support. A hand shot into his line of view as he accepted Chloe’s helping pull him the rest of the way to his feet.

“C’mon mon chéri, your face is pretty too, but it’s not going to make me pull my punches. Give it to me, cherry.” She sent a wink in his direction as she set up for another spar.

If you asked Roy later, the red in his cheeks was from the anger at being called a cherry, but anyone could see the blush betraying him.

Chloe darted forward, dodging his first swing before smacking his butt.

“HEY!”

Roy pushed himself out of her reach as Stephanie and her shared a fist bump. There was no way he was getting out of training alive. He needed a way to finish this as quickly as possible.

“Blondie, what if we make a bet?”

Chloe raised her eyebrow at him, encouraging him to continue as she set herself back up in the circle.

“The next one of us to pin the other gets to pick the next hang out spot. I know it’s your turn in the rotation, so if you win, nobody will put a restriction on your choice.”

Her eyes glistened dangerously as a collective gasp sounded behind them.

“Hey, Roy, are you sure you want to do that? She-”

“Shut it Agreste. The boy has named his terms, no restrictions for me, or he gets to steal my turn. I’ll gladly accept Ginger.”

A sudden shift in the atmosphere was easily noticeable. Inadvertently, a shiver went down his back as every hair on his body stood in high alert. Her first strike was quick, he barely lifted his arms up in time to block it before she had hopped backwards, ready to hit again.

He thought he was the one holding back before, but clearly he was underestimating. Here she was, no longer holding back, toying with him as if he was nothing more than her prey. It was a bit terrifying.

Just as he extended his arm to try and make contact, Roy suddenly found himself on his back, her knee at his throat.

“God, when did you even knock my feet out?”

Her eyes were dancing with humor as she slowly stood, offering her hand to the boy below.

“We tried to warn you, my friend. Chloe doesn’t do competition, she destroys them.”

Adrien offered his hand as well and together the two blondes heaved him to his feet. Marnette shook her head solemnly as she and Dick mock prayed for Roy’s fate.

“So, no restrictions huh? That means overseas is fair game.” Chloe placed a hand gently on Roy’s shoulder sending a chill down his spine. “Guess tomorrow, we are going to Paris, France. Richard, is there a Zeta-Tube that does overseas?”

Dick finished his mock prayer before sending a nod in her direction.

“Perfect. Marinette, tell your little gloomy boyfriend and Timothy that we will be taking a day trip tomorrow, to the city of love.”

She sent a wink to Roy as she stepped out of the rink to grab her towel. No matter how much he tried, he couldn’t ignore the racing in his heart all from one little comment.

“You are falling so hard, my friend!” Roy flinched as Dick threw his arm over his shoulder, sharing a fist bump with Adrien.

“I am not! I barely know her! We’re like acquaintances, at most she’s just a friend.”

Adrien stiffened as he bit back his laughter.

“Just you wait, after tomorrow, you’ll be questioning everything you know.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Roy was indeed questioning everything, like his sanity, as he stepped out of the tube and onto the tallest platform of the Eiffel Tower. Taking a quick step back from the edge, he found himself pressed against the cool metal.

“Isn’t it like illegal to be this high up?”

Chloe’s giggle filled the air as she smacked his arm lightly.

“Of course it is, for normal people that is. We can’t just have everyone using the Zeta tubes ginger.” Her fingers curled into his hair as she gave it a light ruffle.

“Tt, man up Harper. Even if you fall, it’s not like you’d hit the ground before someone here saved your sorry ass.”

A small ‘oof’ echoed from where Damian stood as Marinette stepped out of the tube.

“You didn’t even hear what I said!”

“True,” she shrugged, a smug smile pulling at her lips. “But I assume you were making fun of Roy.”

Damian huffed under his breath as he snaked his arm around her waist, drawing her into his side. Roy was never sure how someone like Damian could have landed a sweet angel like Marinette, but if it meant he had a constant guardian angel, he could care less.

“Where’s Adrikins?”

“He said, and I quote, ‘I don’t want to be a third wheel and neither does Tim.’”

Chloe rolled her eyes, but she couldn’t hide the sparkle from the new information.

“Looks like it’s a double date!” She gripped Roy’s arm pulling him from his safety. “You wouldn’t leave me alone to those two annoying lovebirds would you Harper?”

Roy gulped nervously as his eyes darted between the couple and the blonde hanging off of him. With a sigh of defeat, he nodded, allowing her to pull him closer to the edge.

“I hope you’re ready Harper because if you survive today, there’s no way you won’t fall for me.”

Without warning, Chloe used all her strength to push him off the platform. The scream caught in his throat as the wind rushed past him. Some first date! Here she was trying to kill him within the first five minutes!

A flash of yellow flew past him, catching his attention briefly before an arm yanked him out of midair. This time, the scream managed to slip out, but instead of fear, he felt instant relief as he flew through the air pinned to Queen Bee’s side.

“There was an easier way of doing this Chloe!” He tried to shout over the wind but it felt useless. The only indication that she might have heard his pleas came from the sideways smile she flashed him as the came to a halt in an alleyway.

As his feet touched to ground, his legs instantly gave out. On his hands and knees, Roy reassured himself that this was safe, in solid ground. Moments later, a flash of pink blinded him as Marinette and Damian landed in front of him.

“What’s wrong Harper? You look a little green. I thought that was Oliver’s color.”

Roy’s middle finger only seemed to fuel the egotistical smirk Damian bestowed on him.

“If that was too much, I can’t wait to see how you handle the rest of the day.”

His eyes widened as he tried to imagine what could be worse than freefalling a few hundred feet from the highest structure in Paris. Little did he know, he would soon get his answer.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mrs. Bourgeois.” He tried to keep his voice steady as he offered his hand to her, but the condescending stare made him want to crumble.

“What do you expect me to do? Shake your hand? Honey, you may have been adopted into money, but you are not money. I do not touch any person that is worth less than I am.”

She turned her back briskly as Roy slowly dropped his hand, unsure of whether to be insulted or not.

“Mom, Roy is my friend, can’t you be nice?”

Her mother’s cold glare rested on Chloe. Roy had no idea how she managed to stand her ground. He wanted to crumble for her.

“You are lucky I let you into my workshop after you have missed the past three fittings. When I said you could move to America with the Marianne kid, I expected you to still make time for the business. Should I begin looking for your replacement?”

The tension between the two of them was deadly. Roy wanted to step in, tell her mother to back off, that Chloe was a hero who didn’t always have time for fashion, but somehow, he figured it would only make it worse.

“No mother, I am here now am I not? Let us work quickly so that I can return home.”

Her tone was icy as she stepped forward, holding out her arms for her mother to remeasure. Roy shifted from foot to foot as he held back his tongue. Her mother commented on her weight gain, complained that she was going to begin to fat to be her model anymore. She commented on her studies, or lack of, and on her being a class d hero compared to Superman.

It was to quietest he had ever seen Chloe Bourgeois.

“If that will be all mother, Roy and I have to meet up with Damian and Marinette.”

Her mother waved her off. Not a single love you, not even a real goodbye. Roy was sure his face matched his hair by the time they had set foot back into the streets.

“So, Mari’s parent's house isn’t too far from here. Wanna swing over?”

It was as if a switch flipped. Back was the flirty social butterfly that he had gotten to know over the past couple of weeks.

“Chloe.”

“C’mon carrot top, swinging really isn’t a bad way to transport. It’s quick and effective.”

“Chloe.”

“Don’t be a chicke-”

“Chloe.”

He hadn’t meant to raise his voice, but he knew what she was trying to do.

“Chloe, why do you let her treat you like that?”

Her lips were pressed into a tight line as she turned, taking a step away from the building.

“Chloe, you don’t have to pretend that it didn’t happen. I’m not going to tell anyone, it’s just, the Chloe I saw in there is nothing like the one I’ve come to know.”

“Well, maybe all you know is a lie.”

Her voice was quiet as she took off at a brisk pace down the street. It took Roy a second to process before he took off after her. Gently, he pulled her arm until she came to a stop once more.

“Then let me get to know the real Chloe. After all, I can’t marry someone I don’t know!”

She laughed half-heartedly at his joke, her smile weak.

“She isn’t very good with her emotions and neither am I. I know that she cares, hell, she wouldn’t let me explore this hero side of me if she didn’t think I had potential. But she always puts business first. I never wanted to go into business with her because she can’t separate family and employees. But I need the money. Daddy won’t let me touch my trust fund until I am secure on my own.”

Roy nodded, a number of things falling into place.

“Why don’t you work for Oliver or Bruce like the rest of us?”

Chloe shrugged, her fingers absentmindedly reaching for his.

“They have offered before, but I really feel like the way to her heart is through the family business. I know she wants to leave it to me one day and if I abandon it now, she might reconsider, and honestly, that would hurt her more than me. She’ll never say it to my face, but it would mean the world to me if I could be her legacy.”

A moment of silence passed, and then two as Roy admired the determination that crossed her face. Somehow, it made her more beautiful than she already was. He hadn’t even noticed how close they had gotten until a soft cough snapped him back to reality.

“Well, we only left you for like two hours. Is this a new development?”

Marinette and Damian shared a smirk as Chloe dropped his hand as if it was burning her. She tried to pull up her scarf, but it was too late. The red on her cheeks were burning, matching his he was sure.

“I don’t know what you are referring to Dupain-Cheng. Let’s head back to the tower. A certain blonde must feel my wrath.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

As Roy laid in bed that night, his thoughts kept wandering back to that moment.

She was so close, her lips were so close, so full, so red. They were drawing him in and if Marinette hadn’t stopped them..

“Ughh,” he buried his red face into his pillow, willing his pounding heart to still.

He rolled over to where his phone sat, the dark screen bugging him. Not a single text from her after they returned, not even one from Marinette or Damian teasing him. Reaching out, he lifted the phone toward his face.

Clicking on his photos, the most recent one lit up his entire screen, sending his heart into another fury. Chloe had borrowed his phone, leaving several adorable selfies that he only found a couple hours later.

Not that he wanted to admit it to anyone, but maybe he could admit to himself that just maybe, he was already head over heels for Chloe Bourgeois.

Just as he moved to place it back onto his charger, a text message pinged.

‘Still awake carrot top?’

Roy couldn’t help the smile that tore across his face.

‘Depends. Whose asking blondie?’

‘You’re ridiculous, utterly ridiculous. Now open your window, my arm is getting tired.’

Instantly, Roy shot up as he opened his window. Looking around, he couldn’t find her. He was ready to close it when his instinct told him to look up. Sure enough, Queen Bee sat dangling, motioning for him to move out her way.

With one great heave, Chloe swung into his room, dropping her transformation before her feet even touched the ground.

“Miss me that much?”

The sound of his own voice was foreign as his wide smile was certain to leave his cheeks sore in the morning.

“Oh don’t get full of yourself Harper. I just wanted to thank you for today.”

“Mhmm, this seems mighty personal for a thank you.” He took a step forward, his stomach flipping multiple times.

“I may have also wanted to see you. After all, no text, no call. How is a girl supposed to feel after you almost kiss her?”

She stepped forward closing the gap between them, the smirk on her face as graceful as ever.

“I could say the same thing about you. Running off to another man after spending a day in the city of love with me?”

Hestitanly, he raised his hand to cup her cheek, basking in the feeling of how soft her skin felt against his palm.

“Harper, I want to be to future Mrs.Queen, so what do you say? The courthouse is still open in Paris, we can go right now.”

Roy couldn’t help the laugh that escaped. Gently, he stroked the side of her cheek, admiring her every feature. Leaning forward, he heard her breath hitch in her throat right as their lips were a mere inch apart.

“How about we start with a first date? A real date?”

Chloe’s warm breath tickled his lips as his pounding heart awaited her answer.

“I suppose Mrs. Queen will have to wait, I’ll pick you up, tomorrow Harper. Be ready.”

Just as quickly as he leaned in, she lept back, already calling her transformation. Racing to the window, she looked over her shoulder, blowing him a kiss before slinging away. Hesitantly, he approached the window, watching her retreating figure, his heart still racing a million miles a minute.

It started off a soft chuckle, but it soon grew. With a grand smile, Roy returned to his bed, his thoughts all centered around one blonde. Marriage was sounding less and less like the scary thought he had when he first met her. He wasn’t sure the exact moment that it sounded so good, but he didn’t care.

After all, Chloe Harper-Queen had a nice ring to it.

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[ri-ahhh]

Okay, but with Grayson complaining about being lonely and wanting a girlfriend I CANT HELP but to think about how horny he probably is on top of that. Like- its been on my mind for days, so can you PLEASE write something about gray meeting a bitch, like through friend or something, and realizing he likes her and then having these dirty thoughts about her, and like he doesn't want to but he just cant help it... I will die and love you forever, you're writing is my absouloute favortie.

Ur so sweet babe haha thank you😊 hope this is along the lines of what you wanted.

Getting his dick wet has never been a problem for Grayson Dolan; not since receiving his first sloppy, inexperienced blowjob when he was on tour at the tender age of 16. There’s been a steady flow of girls in and out of his life ever since, fulfilling both his needs sexually and the fleeting desire for noncommittal intimacy. And that’s how he likes it for the longest time. Easy and no-strings-attached.

But he’s older now, and even though quarantine hadn’t stopped him from hitting up his favorite one or two booty calls every now and then, he feels empty in a way that’s becoming all-too familiar. It’s not a new feeling, but every time he leaves their homes (because that’s his number one rule — hookups stay out of his bed), there’s a longing that wasn’t satisfied and that’s becoming more and more apparent to him.

So he stops fucking around — literally. He believes in the power of the mind and manifestation almost to a fault, and considers that maybe he’s letting casual hookups interfere with what he really wants: companionship.

It seems like a breeze at first. Grayson swears he feels lighter, clearer in the head, more focused on what he wants out of his life. He puts his mind to being the best version of himself and hoping that it’s enough to attract the same kind of person that he can put all of his love and effort into in return.

As months roll on, however, he realizes that sometimes the universe just doesn’t listen right away. And for the first time in his life, Grayson discovers the monotony and reality of what it’s like for the ‘regular’ guys out there, whose only sexual pleasure comes from their own hand and the porn category of choice for the night. He was used to that as a filler, for sure, but not as his one and only outlet.

Plain and simple, he’s horny. All the time. Which makes him grumpy, and irritable, and frustrated with both himself and everything around him. So when Ethan tells him in passing that his girlfriend is flying in from New York with her friend to visit, it just makes him grunt. The fact that his brother is in such a happy and healthy relationship himself is a point of contention for Grayson in his head. He’s thrilled for Ethan, but he can’t help but dwell on the creeping jealousy in his chest. Here he is, starved for both intimacy and sex now, and Ethan will get served both of those the following night in excess while Grayson lies in his bed alone.

The next night, they’re all having dinner at the kitchen table — all four of them, including her. The friend. The friend that Ethan had mentioned would be coming but that Grayson had so brusquely ignored. The friend that had his eyebrows raised the second she walked shyly through his front door, drawn in immediately by her beauty.

The friend he can’t keep his eyes off of now as she goes to town on the roasted sweet potatoes and black bean burgers he had made himself. She’s quiet but witty and has a cute laugh that makes his heart flutter a little in a way he hasn’t experienced in a long time.

He feels a nudge against his ribs, and startles when he jerks to the side to see Ethan staring at him pointedly with a knowing little smile on his lips.

“You’ve got ketchup on your shirt, bro,” he says, nodding to the blob of red on Grayson’s white shirt that had dropped from the forkful of sweet potatoes, which had only made it halfway to his mouth as he listened to her talk.

“Shit,” he mumbles embarrassedly, flushing a color near the tomato-red that’s now stained his shirt. Of course, the first time he’s feeling real feelings around a beautiful girl, he has to revert to awkward, clumsy Grayson rather smooth, relaxed Grayson.

He starts to scrub up the mess with his napkin, but she reaches out from her seat across the table from him and grabs his wrist in her petite hand. “Oop, wait! Dab, don’t swipe, or you’ll make it worse. I know how to get that out as long as it’s not smeared around into the fabric.”

Grayson swallows, his arm flaring with goosebumps at her gentle but insistent touch, but tries to keep his cool. She’s grinning at him amusedly, then sits back in her seat when Grayson follows her instructions.

“I thought ketchup was one of those things that you’re just kinda fucked if you get it on your clothes, Ethan says, filling the silence left by his brother.

She shakes her head. “Nope. Peroxide will get it right out, especially if you wash it after. Do you have any?”

Ethan cocks a brow and looks at Grayson, hoping he’ll use the opportunity to speak to her. Thankfully, he does, even if it is lacking a little bit of gracefulness. “Huh, peroxide? Oh... uh, yeah, I — yeah, in my bathroom.”

“I’ll help you when we’re all done, if you want,” she offers before taking a modest bite of her burger.

Grayson nods, and can’t help but watch the way she sucks a bit of barbecue sauce off her thumb once she swallows. His heart picks up and he has to shift in his seat a little when she winks at him, his pants tightening under the table. Damn it. He’s been trying to avoid that reaction and those thoughts, determined to do this right.

He fixes a smile to his lips, and hopes his face isn’t giving him away. “Yeah, that’d be great.”

Everyone helps clean up the table and dishes, and Grayson leads her into his room while they leave the other two to have some alone time. He prays that he made his bed that morning and that there’s no dirty underwear on the floor or used tissues on the nightstand.

Luckily, the floor is relatively clear, and the bed is made, if haphazardly so. She follows him into the en-suite bathroom and watches him dig under the cabinet in the first aid bucket he has down there.

She’s wearing jean shorts and a loose-knit sweater, and when Grayson starts to stand back up he takes a moment to appreciate the tone in the muscles of her legs and the flashes of skin he can see through her top, hoping he isn’t being too obvious.

She takes the brown bottle from him and tugs on the hem of his shirt. “It’ll be easier if you take this off.”

Grayson nods, and can’t help the laugh that escapes him when she turns her back to him. “What are you doing?”

“Giving you your modesty! I don’t know you, for all I know you might be super insecure.”

“At the risk of sounding like a total douche, I promise I’m not,” he answers, reaching behind his neck to tug the collar up and over his head. “Here you go.”

She turns back around, and Grayson doesn’t miss the way her eyes travel over his sculpted torso. He can’t help but smirk a little, thrilled at the cute blush that tinges her cheeks when she meets his eyes and realizes she’s been caught.

He hasn’t had a woman look at him like that in months, however, and he’s grateful when she tells him, “This will need to go in the laundry tonight if you want to make sure the stain comes out, so you’ll need another shirt anyways.”

It gives him an out to duck into his closet, taking a moment to collect himself before grabbing the first T-shirt his hand touches and slipping it over his head.

“Cold water first,” she informs, smiling at him through the mirror when he re-emerges as she leans over the sink with the water running. She shuts off the water and squeeze out the excess, then takes the peroxide and pours some onto the stain.

“Woah,” Grayson says, eyebrows raised in surprise at the fizzing bubbles visibly picking up the bright red from the fibers of his shirt. “Where did you learn this trick?”

“I work in the toddler room at a daycare. We keep this stuff on sight and scene to avoid 20 outfit changes a day on a few two year-olds. I’m sure you can imagine the amount of ketchup and blood stains a toddler procures on the daily.”

Grayson chuckles. He feels himself growing more fond of her by the second. “You like kids?”

“I love them,” she replies with a grin. “Working in childcare is pretty rough, but it’s been a great college job. Lots of experience for my degree. And, you know, good practice for the future one day.”

If he hadn’t been sold by now, that does it. Beautiful, smart, and good with kids?

He takes a moment to assess himself and his thoughts. He doesn’t think he’s letting his dick lead him right now, even if he does want her that way. He’s just as attracted to her mind as he is the curves of her body and the features of her pretty face, and finds himself wanting to talk to her for hours on end.

He doesn’t realize there’s a heated silence, both of them standing there staring at each other, until she clears her throat and holds up his shirt. Grayson glances down at it to see just a faint brown rim around what use to be a bright red mark. “All done.”

“Thank you,” he says, taking it from her and tossing it in his laundry basket. “Come on, hopefully we don’t walk into something we can’t unsee.”

“You make a pretty good meat shield,” she says jokingly, following close behind him. “All big and broad. I can just hide behind you and keep my eyes unscarred.”

Grayson laughs loudly, his ego swelling, and he has to resist the urge to take her hand in his. That would be too much. Right?

Thankfully, the couple is just cuddling innocently on the loveseat when they enter the living room.

“Movie?” Ethan asks when the two of them settle on the couch, a respectful and calculated distance between them — not too close and not too far.

“Sure.”

They’re all in a fun and lighthearted mood tonight, so they settle on Moana. Grayson wants nothing more than to throw his arm around the beautiful girl next to him, who sings along playfully to the songs she knows, her enthusiastic movements shuffling her closer to him. He doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but he doesn’t really care; her presence in both body and spirit feels good to him.

Ethan’s girlfriend only makes it about halfway through the movie before she’s passed out, tired from the long flight earlier that day. He looks down at her fondly and chuckles when he sees her nuzzled sound asleep against his chest.

“I’m gonna take her to bed,” he announces quietly before standing with her in his arms. “Goodnight, guys.”

They both murmur back “goodnight” and watch Ethan disappear down the hall. The movie plays on for a couple of minutes, before she’s turning to him and making small talk. Which turns into broader conversation about bigger things. Which leads to them settling so close that their knees touch. She finds an excuse to pick an invisible fleck of something off his hand, which turns into their fingers playing with each other’s teasingly.

Which turns to Grayson checking his watch in a quiet but not unpleasant lull, and muttering, “Oh, shit,” in surprise.

She checks her phone lying on the couch cushion behind her. The time shines back at her 1:27 AM.

“Damn, when did it get so late?” she wonders aloud, looking at him amusedly.

Grayson shakes his head. “Time flies,” he says. Whether it’s the late hour, or him getting his mojo back, or just the fact that he’s so naturally comfortable with her, he suddenly feels bold enough to reach out and tuck a piece of hair behind her ear. “Are you tired?”

She blushes and bites her lip, allowing him to keep his warm palm pressed to her neck while his thumb strokes the ridge of her jaw gently.

“Not really,” she answers, scooting that much closer to him. “Not ready to go to my bed, anyways.”

She’s referring to the guest room she’s already settled her things into. Grayson smiles. Rules be damned, he thinks, until he realizes in the next moment that there’s no way this amazing girl is going to be just a hookup. There’s no rule to be broken.

“Why don’t you come to mine, then?”

[just-a-poor-boy-queen]

Warning for NSFW and dirty talk.

Part 35 of Jimercury Kid series

Despite being fifty-one years of age, Freddie still had a sex drive that a teenager would be proud of.

Which made it all the more frustrating when he came home from the studio after a long, tiring session and wanted nothing more than to be taken to bed and suitably ravished by his husband so he could forget all his worries and grievances for a few uninterrupted hours.

But with children came responsibilities. Usually by the time Freddie arrived home, Jim had already picked Khaleel up from school, helped him with his homework, played with him and prepared his dinner, on top of working in the garden all day. Naturally, the Irishman would be exhausted, and sex was the last thing on his mind.

Freddie tried to be understanding about the situation. Jim was a hard worker and dedicated hours of his time to both the garden and their son, so the singer felt he didn’t have any right to begrudge him for being less than enthusiastic about intimacy. But his own biology betrayed him; that constant primal need to fuck and be fucked was achingly present, tormenting him day and night.

In his younger, more reckless years, he would have simply sought out a temporary bedmate to alleviate this problem. But those days were long over; he loved Jim and was fully committed to him. Which was why he was now sitting alone in the master bedroom, staring down at the bottle of lube in his hand and wondering how much time he had before Jim returned from the school run.

He couldn’t pinpoint when exactly he had decided to take this idea forward, but he knew it had something to do with the giant bulge straining against his zipper, begging to be let out. It had been two weeks since he and Jim had slept together, and lately Freddie had resorted to taking matters into his own hands (quite literally.) Living with a seven-year-old made it difficult to get any alone time, so he took this opportunity by the horns and pushed his sweats down to his knees, pulling out his half-hard cock and squirting a generous amount of lube into his palm.

He leaned back against the headboard as he gently began to massage his throbbing member, unable to think of anything other than his husband and all the things he wanted Jim to do to him. He thought of Jim pinning him to the mattress, trailing kisses along his neck, gently suckling at his throat as he thrust in and out of Freddie like a hungry animal. He thought of Jim beneath him, nails scraping against the skin of his back, breathing hot air into his ear as Freddie took control for the night. Watching Jim’s face flush and his pupils dilate while Freddie bounced on his dick, riding himself into oblivion.

As the early waves of pleasure washed over him, Freddie reached up and gently pinched a nipple, rolling it between his finger and thumb. He tried to imagine Jim behind him, one hand up his shirt while the other tended to his leaking cock, whispering the filthiest words into his ear until the Persian was a sobbing, squirming mess.

‘Jim…’ he couldn’t help but whisper desperately under his breath. ‘Jim, Jim.’

As good as it felt, it wasn’t the same. No matter how hard he thought about his husband, how well he pictured him in his mind, it wasn’t the same as Jim physically being there. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t bring himself over the edge; every time he felt close to release, his brain held him back.

After a while, his arm began to ache and he sighed in frustration, realising this was a futile effort. He opened his eyes, only to be greeted by a figure standing in the doorway and he yelled in surprise.

‘Jim!’ He spluttered, grabbing a pillow to cover his nether regions, ‘haven’t you heard of knocking?’

‘And interrupt this show?’ Jim grinned. ‘No chance.’

Freddie felt his cheeks singe. ‘How long have you been standing there?’

‘Only about five minutes.’ Jim stepped into the room, taking a seat at the foot of the bed. ‘Khaleel’s started on his homework in the kitchen and you’re far better at maths than I am, so I came up to find you. But clearly you’re preoccupied with other things.’

‘You ass.’ Freddie grumbled, trying to play off his embarrassment. His cock was still painfully swollen, pressing up against the pillow in a desperate search for friction.

The smirk on Jim’s face didn’t falter. ‘So, you think of me when you’re jerking yourself off?’

Freddie looked appalled. ‘Of course I do! Who else would I be thinking of?’

‘I don’t know. Burt Reynolds?’

‘Don’t be ridiculous.’ Freddie crossed his arms defiantly, but quickly dropped them back to his sides when Jim cocked an eyebrow. ‘Okay, maybe a few times. But mostly I think of you. You’re my husband, for God’s sake.’

Jim’s eyes glittered with unusual mischief; he rose from the bed and walked over to Freddie’s side, taking hold of the pillow, and moving it away from the Persian’s crotch. ‘Shift over.’

Freddie frowned, confused, but moved over without complaint, allowing Jim to sit down next to him and lean back against the headboard. The Irishman spread his legs and patted the space between them; it didn’t take Freddie long to realise what he was asking.

‘Darling, Kenny might call for us.’ He said uncertainly, even as he lowered himself between Jim’s legs, allowing his husband to tug his jeans down further to his ankles.

‘Phoebe is there if he needs any help.’ Jim murmured in his ear, taking up the lube that Freddie had abandoned and squirting a large helping into his hand. ‘Don’t worry, this won’t take long.’

Freddie still wasn’t sure, but as soon as he felt Jim’s firm grip on his cock, all he could do was hum softly and let his head fall back against the Irishman’s shoulder, closing his eyes as those familiar pangs of pleasure returned.

‘What were you picturing in that pretty little head of yours?’ Jim began pressing soft, warm kisses against the crook of Freddie’s neck, revelling in how the singer moaned and bucked in response. ‘Were you thinking of me fucking you? Ploughing into you nice and deep?’

‘Mmm…’ Freddie bit down on his bottom lip desperately, resisting the urge to scream. He thrust harder into Jim’s fist, cheeks pink from the effort.

‘You love it when I fuck you, don’t you?’ Jim nibbled Freddie’s earlobe, smiling as the Persian shivered and whined in response. ‘You love lying there on your hands and knees, arse in the air, your little hole desperate to be filled with my cock.’

‘Jim.’ Freddie practically sobbed, so close that his whole body was trembling. He wasn’t sure how Jim always managed to make him come undone so easily, but he fucking loved it.

‘Do you remember Live Aid, Freddie?’ Jim carried on, undeterred, his voice a mere whisper. ‘Remember me standing backstage while you strutted about onstage, showing off that gorgeous body of yours? Do you have any idea what I wanted to do to you in that moment?’

Freddie was beyond words. He just shook his head, desperate for Jim to keep talking.

‘If I had my way, I would have marched you off that stage, taken you to the dressing room and fucked you so hard you couldn’t remember your own name. The rest of the band would have been on the other side of the door, wondering what was going on, but they’d just have to wait because I’d be too busy filling your greedy hole. You’d be moaning so loudly, everyone in that stadium would know that the great Freddie Mercury was being fucked and he loved it-’

With a strangled cry, Freddie came into Jim’s hand, the tears in his eyes spilling down his cheeks as he was overwhelmed by his orgasm. He collapsed against his husband, gasping for air as Jim gently cradled his jaw and tilted his head back for a sweet kiss.

‘God, I’ve missed you.’ Freddie panted against the Irishman’s lips.

‘I’ve missed you too.’ Jim kissed him again. ‘So fucking much.’

OMG SO FUCKING HOT🥵

I absolutely loved this, my god. It's such a wonderful use of the prompt. I mean, their sex life must be pretty... dry, even with a seven year old lol who could barge in at any time in their bedroom (or other places, you know, if they get a little adventurous😏). So I really don't blame Freddie for getting some solo action. But lmao, ofc he can't get off without his husband.

And damn, Jim! The dirty talk was... oof. I mean... wow. Oof. Yeah, wow.

Also lmao, Freddie admitting to thinking of Burt Reynolds made me cackle hahahaha. But of course, he thinks of Mr. Reynolds only a few times. His own 'Burt Baby' (that's apparently an actual nickname that Freddie had for Jim), his husband, is enough to fuel his fantasies😌

I love this so much, darling. So fucking hot!

(More drabbles by writer anon)

(All the parts of this series can also be found under the tag #freddie and jim and their baby on this blog)

[hiccanna-tidbits]

Do you maybe have some headcanons or Au or something for Moana x Merida? I really like that ship! 🤗and I like your moodboards with moanida! ^^

Anon I need you to know I am literally crying TEARS OF JOY because I have FINALLY received an Ask on this humble little blog and I am OVERJOYED

Yes, I would love to talk about Moanida!!!

I’ve got a few AUs I kinda play around with for them--might make moodboards of them one of these days! A couple I really like are a Mermaid AU and a Selkie AU, probably with Moana as the mermaid/selkie because of her ocean connection??? But I really like the idea of Selkie!Merida too, since it would go so nicely with selkies in Scottish folklore and all that. Either way it solves the geographical issue because they can just swim to each other!!! Also yes, these gay girls crossing literal oceans for each other is absolutely the hill I’m going to die on. I’m also a fan of a sort of Mythology/Goddess AU where like Moana is an ocean goddess and Merida is a volcano goddess of sorts akin to Te Ka with cool lava hair and scary volcanic rock skin and only Moana’s soothing ocean waters can calm her eruptive (heh, get it?) rage. And this also means FORBIDDEN SAPPHIC LOVE FORBIDDEN SAPPHIC LOVE FORBIDDEN SAPPHIC LOVE

Also MOANIDA HEADCANONS YESSSS

I thought up some just for you <3 Some are more general and some are more specific AU-focused so I tried to sort them by AU but there’s probably gonna be some overlap.

General ~Merida is THE most overprotective girlfriend. Like she knows Moana’s independent and can take care of herself, but she absolutely will not tolerate slander of or threats to her girlfriend of any kind. If Merida were to meet Maui at any period in the timeline where he and Moana weren’t really cool yet and he was still being kind of a dick to Moana, Merida would try to fight a literal demigod. She doesn’t give a single fuck. ~Once Merida hears about the Tamatoa Incident, she wants to fight every crab she sees. She also develops a taste for crabcakes and crab rangoons because she starts eating lots of crabmeat solely out of spite. Moana finds this endlessly amusing. ~Moana definitely has the braincell between them. She’s constantly having to hold Mer back and talk her down from starting shit. Merida would unleash the Rage of a Thousand Suns upon her enemies if given half the chance. ~Merida is very physically active and loves working out--she would work out twice a day if given the chance. She’s just really about those exercise endorphins. Moana makes her fresh tropical fruit bowls and tropical fruit smoothies for after her workouts. Merida adores these and eventually she absolutely refuses to drink any smoothies not made by her girlfriend. ~They’re both lowkey caffeine addicts. Merida usually loathes getting up early (unless it’s to work out or go riding with Angus) and will snap at anyone and everyone until she’s had coffee. Moana knows how to get her hands on these really amazing-tasting, obscure types of Polynesian coffee, so she hooks them up with The Good Stuff. After tasting the coffee Moana gets, Merida honestly never wants any other B-tier type of coffee again. ~They love to go sailing in Moana’s boat. In a modern AU where the boat has a motor, Merida likes to make them go really fast for the adrenaline rush and the feeling of wind in her hair. It kinda freaks Moana out to go that fast, but it’s honestly worth it for the look of absolute elation on Merida’s face, and the way she laughs and cheers the whole time. ~Sometimes they like to go out on more calm, tranquil night sails. Once they’re a ways out, they just lie on the deck and stargaze. Moana points out all the constellations to Merida and rambles about how to navigate with them. Merida just turns and watches her with this super-smitten look the entire time. ~Moana teaches Merida some Maori. She teachers her how to say “I love you,” and, at Merida’s request, how to swear. ~Sometimes Moana calls Merida Maori words Mer doesn’t understand. Merida gets mad because she thinks Moana’s insulting her. It turns out she’s just calling Merida a bunch of super sappy Maori pet names. ~Sometimes Merida and Moana just like to talk shit about people who are pissing them off IN Maori, so they don’t understand. ~Whenever Merida absolutely goes OFF on someone for saying something homophobic or sexist or whatever, Moana just stands back and crosses her arms and smirks, and says “Thaaaat’s my girl!” It absolutely never fails to make Merida blush like a madwoman and start blubbering like an idiot and lose her original point completely. ~When they fight, they are SO stubborn, petty, and dramatic about it that they can stay mad at each other for DAYS. For really bad fights, they usually end up needing a mediator (in a RotBTD+ AU, I imagine this would be Rapunzel, Anna, or Hiccup). ~Angus and Pua are best friends. No, I will not be accepting criticism at this time. They get into lots of hijinks and shenanigans, and sometimes they sneak out together and Pua likes to ride around on Angus’s back. When Pua and Angus go missing, Mer and Mo just kind of sigh like “Oh, they’re out adventuring again, aren’t they?” ~Angus also always protects Pua so he never has to be scared of adventuring again!!! Pua still remembers his and Moana’s disastrous first sailing attempt, and Angus makes sure little Pua never gets into danger like that again. ~Hamish, Harris, and Hubert ship it SO hard! Moana turns out to be really good with kids, and has even been known to assist with the boys’ mischief from time to time. They definitely think Moana’s a good person to keep their sister’s chaos in check while not being TOO much of a boring wet blanket stifling her fun. ~Sina absolutely ADORES Merida and basically adopts her and treats her like a second daughter. After hearing Merida doesn’t have the best relationship with her own mom and feels like her mom doesn’t try to understand her or respect that she’s different from her, Sina gets like...SUPER angry and and starts doting on Merida to an almost annoying extent. She never wants Merida to have to feel forced into being someone she’s not, since she saw that with Moana and how much it absolutely KILLED her to be kept away from the ocean. ~Tui is leery of Merida at first, mainly because she seems like she’s going to be a bad influence on his daughter. However, he eventually comes around to her once he sees how much she loves his daughter, and they bond over both being ridiculously overprotective of Moana. ~Fergus also adores Moana, and basically knew Merida was gay from the jump--them dating is 0% a surprise to him. He’s honestly just glad that his daughter has someone more rational and down-to-earth to prevent her from doing anything TOO stupid. ~Elinor meanwhile, traditionalist that she is, is NOT about this whole lesbian thing and would probably be pretty homophobic...at least at first (steaming hot take, I know, she’s just got tradition so far up her ass I don’t know if she’d EVER be okay with her daughter choosing not only to forego marriage to man COMPLETELY--not just delay it--but marry a woman instead, who she couldn’t produce an heir with. Also sorry but I do not like her and probably will not portray her particularly favorably in my HCs sorry not sorry lmao) Maybe she comes around, maybe she doesn’t. I’ll leave that up to your imagination. Although I am not an Elinor fan so I think you already know my take XD ~Moana is grey-asexual grey-aromantic, so she CAN be sexually and romantically interested in people, it’s just...very rare. Merida is basically the only person she’s ever wanted to legit date. Maybe she likes boys too, but she wouldn’t know--she hasn’t found any she’s into thus far. Merida, meanwhile, has always been a raging lesbian, and has had lots of crushes on girls over the years (in an AU where she has the opportunity to, anyhow--ARE there even any girls her age in Dunbroch??? XD). When her parents would read storybooks to her as a kid, she’d always finding herself getting doe-eyed over the “fair maidens” rather than the fearless, ripped warriors who saved them from danger.  No crush ever hit her quite as hard as Moana did, though. But Merida knows for a damn fact she isn’t into men--90% of the time she can’t stand them and their antics, and the only men she’s ever really felt any kind of affection for are ones in her family or ones who remind her of one or more of her family members. ~Moana makes Merida flower crowns. Merida grumbles endlessly about how “girly” they are, so Moana hunts down some black flowers to make one with so it’ll look a bit more badass and intimidating. Merida absolutely LOVES it and wears it everywhere. ~Merida teaches Moana how to horseback ride and how to shoot a bow and arrow. She’s pretty not great at either at first, but Merida is incredibly patient with her. This shocks everyone around them, because since when is Merida patient with anyone? ~Merida also teaches Moana swordplay, and they LOVE to spar with each other. Agressive flirting during sparring sessions is very commonplace. If anyone attacks either Dunbroch or Motunui, Merida and Moana are a force to be reckoned with. ~Likewise, Moana teaches Merida how to sail and some kinda basic naval combat skills (i.e. how to shoot that harpoon gun or whatever it was she used to fight the kikimora off). ~They don’t have sex that often because neither of them has that high of a sex drive, but when they do, Merida tops if a strap-on is used. ~Moana is the kind of person who just kinda sings songs to herself as she goes about her daily routine and her chores. Merida loves to listen in because she thinks Moana has the prettiest singing voice on earth. That doesn’t stop her from teasing Moana about “singing all the got dam time,” though. ~Literally ALWAYS cuddling and kissing when they’re watching something together or just doing any kinda idle activity at home together. These girls cannot keep their hands off of each other. They hold hands in public pretty much everywhere they go, and Merida yells at anyone who makes a fuss about it.

Modern AU ~They meet while Merida is studying abroad in Tahiti. Maybe because Maui (who’s Moana’s cousin or older brother or something) has a tattoo parlor, and of COURSE Merida goes in to get some edgy bow and arrow tattoo to piss her mom off. Or maybe Merida is just snorkeling in one of the coves on one of her days off, and she runs into Moana and they just Vibe. ~I also like the idea of them meeting at a bar/nightclub type place in Papeete--like maybe Maui owns the nightclub because he just likes to party like that, and he lets his little sis Moana poke around in there because he’s lowkey a terrible influence XD And maybe one night Moana’s bartending to make a little extra cash and Merida comes in and gets really drunk on like a huge Sex on the Beach or something and starts really clumsily hitting on Moana and Moana gets SUCH a kick out of it. Merida can’t remember much of the flirting the next day, but she and Moana still become fast friends. ~Merida is constantly ditching class to sneak off and go see Moana. Her grades are plummeting. ~When the semester abroad is over, they promise to keep in touch over the internet--although Moana also wants to write letters because she loves the idea of having a pen pal. Merida teases her mercilessly for being so “old-fashioned” but also doesn’t have the heart to say no. ~They end up confessing they like each other over internet chat. Merida damn well knows she’s gay and has for a while now, but she’s terrified of telling Moana she’s into her because she’s really scared Moana’s straight. So when Moana is the one who ends up confessing to Merida, Merida has literally never been happier in her entire life. ~Once Merida graduates, they decide to just say “fuck it” and move to some big seaside city together (for some reason I really like the idea of them living in Los Angeles???). Merida needs to get away from her overbearing mom and Moana just really wants to see more of the world besides the South Pacific, so away they go! ~BROADWAY MUSICAL NERDS BROADWAY MUSICAL NERDS BROADWAY MUSICAL NERDS! They both fucking LOVE musicals, especially those with sapphic undertones (Wicked, anyone?), and will loudly and obnoxiously sing along to the soundtracks, much to the chagrin of all their neighbors. They’re also pretty big theater fans in general--especially Merida, always rather the dramatic type. ~At some point they save up and go to see Wicked on Broadway together. The trip ends up being one of their all-time favorites, and their fridge is covered in goofy, dumb selfies of them in New York. ~Moana goes to every SINGLE one of Merida’s archery tournaments, and every single game of any other sport she plays. Literally no one cheers more boisterously or enthusiastically than Moana does. Whenever Merida hits a bullseye or scores a goal, Moana grins and nudges the people next to her (even if they’re complete fucking strangers) and goes “That’s my girlfriend!!!” ~Merida is a goddamn punk, and is always walking around in spiked jackets, combat boots, and basically any other clothing that says “don’t fuck with me.” She tried to start a punk rock band once, but it ended up falling through because no one would sponsor Merida’s angry screamo songs about smashing the patriarchy. Moana still went to all of their tiny-ass, tacky concerts though, for the few months they were “touring” the city. ~Merida taught herself how to play electric guitar because she thinks it’s Edgy and Cool. Moana really likes to dance, and knows a fair number of traditional Polynesian dances and has even taught a class or two. Merida learns how to play some traditional Polynesian music on the electric guitar so she can play while Moana dances. The combination of hard rock-esque shredding and a very mellow island dance looks extremely bizarre to anyone watching, but the girls absolutely do not care.

@takaraphoenix I said I’d tag you in Moanida content I made and I am a woman of my word!!! Enjoy!!!

Please y’all, send me more asks about my ships!!! I love to talk about them!!!

[smutbymia]

i need streetracer!mark & streetracer!reader enemies to maybe something more than enemies. hot, smutty & angsty. just wanna escape reality and live the go mv aesthetic in my imagination.

you kept your black baseball cap low as you stood in the audience that gathered at the end of the racetrack tucked away on the outskirts of your town. It was situated away from the suburban areas where up until now the city’s streetracers could do their thing away from prying eyes.

Cars flew by every minute or so and you watched the action carefully, making mental notes on each driver. You would be competing against some of them soon enough and you needed to be prepared because the stakes were always stacked against you and you refused to be underestimated by a bunch of guys.

You had learned how to race from your older brother streetracer!taemin who was undefeated for almost a full year back in his high school days before moving to Europe to participate in the most prestigious Grand Prix competitions. He was probably the only reason the race officiators allowed you to compete in the first place. However, after seeing what you could do on a racetrack there was no denying that you were more than capable to compete against the other guys your age and older despite the fact that they still often underestimated your abilities.

You watched as the winner crossed the finish line before doing one more victory lap and pulling over. The crowd exploded into cheers with people collecting the bets they had placed at the beginning of the night.

streetracer!mark jumped out of the driver seat with a smile on his face before being surrounded by the 6 boys you recognized as his crew. That cocky bastard, you thought to yourself as you watched him slip on a windbreaker over the white t’shirt he had on. His black hair was slicked back out of his face, taming his curls, and he rocked matching joggers and a pair of white sneakers.

Soon he was lost in the crowd. Whatever, it wouldn’t be long until you would inevitably cross paths on the track in the next coming weeks. The number of racers competing in the competition were dwindling down quickly as they elimated those who couldn’t place on the leaderboard after each race. Of all the years you had known Mark, you hadn’t raced him once. He certainly watched you drive from time to time just as you watched him but you couldn’t stand each other.

You turned to walk away from the crowd when you felt a hand land firmly on your shoulder. You stopped in your tracks before the familiar voice spilled into your ear as their arm snaked around your shoulder when the owner placed themselves at your side.

“Enjoy the show?” Mark asked, sneering as he continued to push through the crowd, walking with you towards a section of the parking lot where other racers who had come to watch parked their cars.

You groaned in response as he chuckled. “It’s not too late to drop out of the competition. Besides, your brother worked so hard to build up his reputation here. You wouldn’t want to be the one to ruin that would you?” he taunted. You spun around to face him as you shoved his arm off of your shoulder. Mark stumbled back laughing, knowing that he had hit a nerve. You were now standing by your car in the corner of the lot, almost everyone else had left so far and whoever remained was further down near the track, leaving the two of you alone in the shadows with only the moon giving you the little bit of light it had.

“This is the third race in a row where you’ve lost time on the third lap,” you began, “seems like that car of yours can’t keep up these days and seems like it’s much too late to make any modifications.”

Marks face dropped, and you could see the anger growing behind his expression. “You think a little lost time is going to make a difference when I race you? Quit while you’re ahead and maybe I’ll be nice enough to make you my trophy girl,” he said as he stepped closer to you, gripping your chin roughly between his fingers.

“You can’t drive for shit comparing to me, and you know it. Maybe you should give up on riding in cars and ride me instead, princess,” he said as his gaze dropped to your lips and you watched as his mouth lifted slightly at the corners. You could feel the heat rushing to your cheeks and you were praying it didn’t show.

You were enraged. He never saw you as an equal no matter what. Your hand flew across his cheek with a loud slap and he barely reacted other than the soft hiss that escaped his lips. “Feisty bitch,” he murmured through clenched teeth. He didn’t even bother to run his hand across the area to soothe his own skin. Instead he grabbed your other hand aggressively, catching you off guard. You raised your dominant hand again to deliver another slap to his cheek to get him away from you but stopped suddenly when he pulled the hand he had grabbed towards himself, pressing it against the thin layer of his joggers, allowing you to feel the erection that had grown in his pants.

“Go ahead baby, hit me again if you want to. You’re real sexy when you’re mad,” he dared you as he used your hand to palm himself through his pants while he leaned against the hood of your car. You caught him off guard when you slipped your hands into his joggers, wrapping your manicured fingers around his shaft.

He sucked in a quick breath as you gripped him firmly and jerked him off slowly. He pressed his palms against the hood of your car as he dropped his head back, letting out soft moans. Sure you hated him but you couldn’t deny that he sounded so pretty in that exact moment. If mark wanted to play then you’d play with him, you thought.

You leaned over to whisper in his ear as you continued to pump at his cock, pre-cum wetting your fingers. “Mark, baby...” you cooed, as you planted kisses and soft licks against his neck. The boy was coming undone right in front of your eyes. You watched as he gripped at the metal of the vehicle, letting out soft whimpers before he answered you.

“Y-yes, y/n?” he stammered, gazing up at you. You could have sworn you saw his eyes sparkle, and it softened your expression momentarily before you snapped out of it. You were in the middle of a game, whether mark knew it or not, and you were planning on winning.

“You’re so big,” you cooed, along with other words of praise. Mark had reached one of his hands around to grip at your ass underneath the skirt you wore , squeezing and massaging it.

“And so... so pathetic,” you whispered into his ear. You felt his hand on your ass go still. “Do you really think you can beat me? Because I think the only thing you’ll be able to think about is my hand around your dick and my tongue on your neck the next time you get in that car of yours to race me,” you taunted viciously as you pumped furiously at his cock.

“You... fucking... bitch,” he said in between moans. You were lucky that the entire lot was now deserted, all the racers and spectators long gone.

You watched as beads of sweat trickled down the side of marks forehead as he stared into your eyes with the darkest expression you had ever seen.

“Look at you, about to cum all over yourself like a little boy... and you haven’t even played with my pussy yet,” you pouted. “That doesn’t seem fair, you know. I deserve to have something to think about the next time we race too, don’t you think?” you fake whined as you released him from your grip and slipped your fingers into your mouth, tasting the pre cum he had released. Mark bit his bottom lip as he watched you lick your fingers clean. You pushed him flat against the hood of your car before climbing into his lap and straddling him against the cool metal. You circled your ass into his lap against his throbbing erection keeping him just as hard as you needed him to be as you peeled off your shirt and marks, leaving you both topless.

Mark layed back on the hood of the car again, but this time you moved up his body to position yourself overtop his face before shifting your panties to the side. “Give me something to think about Mark. This is the only chance you have to prove to me that you aren’t as pathetic as I think you are. Show me that you’re good for something after all,” you said as you roped your fingers through his hair. He grunted before placing his hands on your waist and forcing you down against his mouth not wasting even a second teasing you. He lapped at your soft flesh, running his tongue between every fold of your center.

You couldn’t help it as moans escaped your mouth as he devoured you delicately, sucking your clit into his mouth as he nursed it between his lips. You grinded against his mouth as your wetness dripped from your core and onto his chin. He hummed against your skin, savouring your taste. He licked long slow strips up and down the length of your pussy, stopping to lick softly at your clit before dipping his tongue into your hole. You threw your had back in ecstasy as he worked it in and out of you. You could feel yourself getting close, so you took the opportunity to pull away from him.

You positioned yourself back over his dick, sinking down onto him now that you were dripping wet. He slipped in an out of you with ease as you rode him.

“This is what you wanted, right baby?” you asked him as you captured his mouth in a wet kiss, licking at the juices you had left on his face. He moaned into your mouth as he left one of his hands on your hip, moving you against him as he thrusted up into you and used the other to rub your face sweetly, letting his thumb drag across your bottom lip whenever you broke your kiss.

“I-I’m gonna cum,” he said as he struggled to hold off his release. You layed against his chest still riding him as you bit at his ear, whispering naughty words into it to work him up even more.

“Please, daddy,” you begged in your sweetest voice. “I want you to cum inside of me so bad!”

Hearing you call him that drove Mark crazy as he quickened his pace, rocking the car with his thrusts.

You moaned desperately in his ear as you circled your hips against his, as he thrusted frantically up into you. You could feel your orgasm coming on as you broke character for a split second. “You’re going to m-make me cum so hard, Mark,” you said as you hovered above him, staring deeply into his eyes as you reached down to kiss him, biting and sucking at the flesh of his lips. Sure you were still toying with him but you couldn’t deny how fucking amazing he felt sliding in and out of you. He let his hand come down against your ass with a loud smack and it was enough to trigger your senses, sending you over the edge as you felt your orgasm ripple through you.

“Fuck, baby...” mark groaned as he dropped his head back against the hood of your car, as his eyes fell closed. His hips jerked as he released his warmth up into you, sending a bit of it spilling back down over himself.

You watched as his chest rose and fell over and over again as he caught his breath. When he opened his eyes again, this time it was you who smiled down at him with a smug expression on your face.

“Good luck getting that out of your mind before race day, you asshole,” you said, dipping your head down to plant a soft kiss against his lips. He looked flustered and soft; nothing like the boy who had approached you earlier. Mark didn’t say anything in response, instead opting to pull you closer to kiss you some more. Truthfully, the last thing he wanted to think about now was going up against you on the racetrack. He had a bigger problem to worry about because his heart was beating in a way it hadn’t before and he was worried about what that could mean for him.

You, oblivious to this, got up from the hood of your car before slipping your shirt back over your head as mark nervously did the same. He was still leaning against your car as you stood between his legs. Mark had his arms wrapped around you, holding you a little closer and a little tighter than you expected. It was almost as if he had grown attached. “Come on , I’ll drive you home,” you said softly. His friends had long since left with his car, probably expecting him to have caught a ride with some other girl.

“F-fine, but I’m driving,” he said softly sounding a bit dejected. He planted a final kiss on your lips, soft and slow as he drew circles against your cheeks with his thumb as your face rested in his hand.

Mark seemed to have lost the edge he possesed earlier as his cheeks went pink and he rubbed at the nape of his neck.

You slipped him your car keys, having decided not to argue with him as you both clambered into the vehicle and drove off into the night back towards the city. He hoped desperately that you had gotten the message behind his kiss and silently prayed that you also felt even a fraction of the feelings he knew he was quickly developing for you, for him too.

Angels, thanks for reading and thanks to the anon who put in this request🥺 leave me something in my inbox, babies. Love u bye -mia

The feedback on this was so lovely. You guys asked for a second part and it’s here!

Click here for streetracer!mark (pt.2): 2 Fast

[joy1579]

Hey! So... When I started to play Mystic messenger I was a teenager, so I was wondering how the boys and Jaehee would react discovering that MC was a teenager too (platonic of course) I loved your headcanons btw ♥️

gah its been forever and a day since i was a kid. and even then i was like really bad at being a kid heh what do teenagers do? all i did was hide in the library and avoid socializing oops. whatever i had a lot of fun writing this! honestly i think they would all be very protective of you since the RFA really feels like one big family!

Jumin

He is proud of you and wants to provide you with future opportunities because that’s how he cares about people, by giving them a means to earn money and have purpose. Also he is very interested in what you can teach him about pop culture.  

-        Age doesn’t matter to him too much. Maturity does and you had proven your maturity by helping the RFA faithfully and well

-        In fact, he is very proud of how well you did and mentions that your professionalism at such a young age shows great potential should you apply to C&R (you know him well enough to take it for the compliment it is intended to be)

-        His presence practically drips with “proud dad preparing for his daughter’s future” vibes and considering the 11-year age gap you suppose you couldn’t ask for much better

-        That is until he hears you chatting on the phone and using slang he’s never heard before

-        Now he’s curious and asking questions. You show him some him some vines you have saved and teach him a bit about pop culture leading to an unlikely but very fun friendship

-        You and he tease zen a lot by having Jumin use made up slang and you pretending its super cool and zen’s just not with it. Also imagine getting Jumin to do a secret handshake just to piss Zen off. It ends with the “nyah” pose

Yoosung

Acts like your best friend that you enjoy teasing. He wants to be a good role model but that shiz is hard. You two bond a lot over stories about school and the struggles of exams.

-        He is very relieved to not be the youngest anymore because now maybe everyone will stop treating him like a baby. (spoiler alert they won’t. Ever.)

-        He worries that he’s supposed to act like a big brother. He doesn’t know how to do that! He’s always been the baby brother, or the youngest member, or the newest intern. How does one be responsible?

-        Tries and fails to intimidate guys away from you to “protect” you (but zen said it was his duty to keep you safe! He said all men are wolves MC!)

-        “If all men are wolves why isn’t he worried about you Yoosung?” “huh? Hey wait yeah! Does he not think I’m a man?!” “ go get em tiger. give zen a piece of your mind”

-        He helps you with homework a lot but no cheating! He tells you about the time he cheated to pass a class only to get to the next level class and understand NOTHING it took a lot of tutoring and studying and work to fix that mess. Best to learn it now while it’s still learnable.

-        He refuses to teach you LOL “don’t end up like me MC! Be better!” you learn it anyway and end up playing with him frequently. The rest of the RFA blame him for this much to his dismay.

Saeyoung

he wants to protect you in his own frankly silly way. still meme’s it up but doesnt want anyone “corrupting” you. actually he kind of treats you the way he would treat saeran.

-        He fights with V for the first time when V suggests leaving you in Rika’s apartment (with a bomb) but reluctantly comes around and does what V says

-        Stays a meme lord and is psyched if you can manage to out meme him

-        Definitely teases you about your age a lot (Yoosung is secretly glad to not be the ONLY one getting teased for being young)

-        “guys we have to protect the baby she has her whole life ahead of her”

-        Is the most adamant about not swearing, drinking or smoking around you

-        “y’all need Jesus there are CHILDREN here”

-        You may have to call him out on this behavior because seriously wtf you know for a fact hacking isn’t the most ethical or legal occupation and he’s gonna lecture you?!?

-        He may joke around but he up’s his protection game up about 10 notches because for real you have your whole life ahead of you

Zen

he basically adopts you okay. he wants to be your cool big brother friend and be everything his family never was for him. he takes care of you and stands up for you every chance he can.

-        He finds out very early on because the second he starts flirting seven shuts that shit down telling him your too young for that. He asks how young and is shocked but recovers pretty fast

-        You know the protective big brother trope? Yeah that’s him

-        He’s your ride or die friend too. Need a ride to school? He’s there on his bike, some dick is harassing you? He’s there to scare the punk off, and even though he doesn’t want to fight a kid he will if he has too

-        If its girls who are harassing, you he picks you up to give your rep a bit of a boost (it never hurts to be seen with such a handsome guy after all and if he shows up on his bike he’s also got the badass vibe going on)

-        He has ALWAYS wanted a little sister and now he’s adopted you. You’re his little sis now and he’s wrapped around your finger. He swears he’ll be a better brother than his brother was

-        He is so proud of all your accomplishments and is determined to encourage your dreams the way his parents never did (he might be living his family wishes vicariously through you but hey he treats you good so it’s cool)

Jaehee

-        She’s a bit worried about you taking on such a big responsibility as the RFA guest liaison at such a young age. What if your grads drop? Or you family gets upset? What if you had to also work a part time job and this interfered your young you need to be able to rest and live your life. (when you point out that she should do the same she brushes you off)

-        Not much changes honestly, she’s always been the RFA’s mom after all.

-        She gets a little stricter about language and “inappropriate” topics

-        She definitely encourages you to study and do well in school (and avoid any job’s Mr. Han offers you)

-        She still down to be your friend though! She’s all ears when you need to vent about school and you are always ready to lend an ear back when Jumin is giving you a hard time

-        You swap girl power ballads and she helps you set up a Zen fan club at your high school

Saeran

-        Look he didn’t intend to kidnap and actual kid and he’s honestly a bit panicked when he finds out your age you looked older than that he swears

-        Thankfully your mature enough and smart enough to do what’s needed of you and he supposes as long as you don’t have a family searching for you it should be okay

Ray

-        He’s a little more reserved but honestly not much changes he’s still innocent and devoted he calls you princess and tries to spoil you as much as he can he may not see you as a romantic interest but your still his obsession.

-        He likes that you trusted him even more since your young and therefor more vulnerable. You’re his family now, a better family than he’s ever had.

-        If you are the princess, he is your knight in the strictest definition. Which is to say he is devoted to protecting and serving you out of dedication and reverence rather than romance.

Unknown

-        He’s more verbally aggressive than physically aggressive

-        He doesn’t try as hard to seem intimidating because he thinks of you as a child, and he doesn’t have to prove how tough he is to a child it’s obvious after all.

-        Also his visits are simultaneously shorter and more frequent. Shorter because he tends to get flashbacks easier (since he sees you as a child despite you being a teen) and more frequent because they are less satisfying since he doesn’t let himself be physically aggressive.

Vanderwood

(IDK why but I feel like he probably had an actual family with a girlfriend/wife and possibly a very very young daughter before the agency. Maybe she left him and that’s why he’s so impressed by MC’s dedication in the secret ending. Or maybe they’re both dead because broken hearts make more money than whole ones. Either way I think a teen MC would remind him of his possible family and so he would be hell bent on separating you from the danger and drama of literally everything that happens in the game.)

-        He’s legitimately (and rightfully) concerned about you when he see’s you on seven’s CCTV feed

-        protective and angry dad mode activated

-        threatens to tazer seven into oblivion if he lets something (or causes something to) happen to you

-        “what the hell are you doing she’s a civilian AND she’s got her whole life before her, you and I might have thrown away our lives but she didn’t! whatever’s going on you had better fix it NOW”

-        He is not speaking with you. No way no how. Every word he says to you puts you more in danger and he is not having your life on his conscious

-        That being said the second you’re in danger he is all in on ANNIHILATING whatever has put you in danger

[draganasimpsforjeff]

Hunting Dogs: Chapter Seven (proxies x reader)

Age was nothing but a number to them and most, if not, all the time it meant nothing. Like part of the human race, you can die at any moment but you take precautions and you try not to be a dumbass and take care of yourself and you'll be fine. Every year was celebrated with a birthday, announcing that you were still alive to your loved ones.

But when you're a proxy, there is nothing to celebrate. If there was, it was just to get by another day. They didn't live life by miles and those are limitless and no one knows when those miles will stop. For proxies, if you reached the age of 25, it was like a big deal in a way that not many men got to see or get to. Yes, in the mansion there are countless beings older than such, but there was less pressure as there was on these three men.

It was complete hell for Hoodie and Masky when they first started as Slender thought he would need to test every aspect of them in anyway he could, even if that meant putting them near death. But, they are over the age of 25. Although, don't be a complete idiot if you think that makes them safer. It doesn't. It just means they got past a milestone that a great percentage didn't have the opportunity to get to. Toby was the youngest out of them, 23, almost 24. But hell, no great being like a Slenderman could threaten to ruin his life when the damn boy does it to himself everyday. The only difference is that He could make it the ultimate ending and act like Toby never existed and he would expect the same from others.

So, in ways the three men relationship was complicated, much like a Zeppelin Bend, when they worked together they were stable, so tight-knit that they knew each other's next move, thoughts, feelings.etc., they could be stable when they wanted to and be the scariest goddamn creatures ever known to man. But, if something was in the way or their thoughts didn't link together, the connection between all three was nonexistent. Like it wasn't bad enough that after a good day and a mission completed, they would cut the cord so fucking quick and lash out, becoming blood thirsty monsters that just wanted each other dead.

And who could blame them? The stress of them job mixed in with their emotions, the need to survive, and whether or not a mission was high-impact or not they were expected and felt the need to have the right. And you wanna know what their treat was for not fucking up? Not a nice dinner, no hot baths with bubbles, no 'here take a day or two to rest' or any bullshit like that. It was, Congratulations! You get to live another day! Now go back to your dim lit rooms with just a desk, bed, nightstand and closet, that half the time it looks like they had nothing to themselves. Whatever they had, they could fit in a backpack, but what was the point of personalizing a room to your liking for your own self expression when there was a chance you could be gone and hell... they didn't even know who they were, self identity  was a crucial factor here.

Sure, they may remember bits and pieces of what they like or, rather, what they thought they liked, but it was all blurry and covered in smudges, like imagine going to see ophthalmologist and instead of having you look through lens to correct your vision, it's worse and it's covered in black shit, yeah, that was basically they're mind. Amnesia though was the worst for Masky, but not like it was new to him at all. he suffered through it during his childhood and teenage years up till now. Hoodie just stopped caring even though he does miss his life in college and he became so invested in his study of Psychology and maybe that's something that comes in handy with this job, studying emotions, body language, and movement from a person or anything to be honest,  the best course of action, why someone may be acting a certain way(most of this thought goes towards Toby) Masky lets himself be easy to read, even with the mask, nothing could hide an animal like him...unless sedated. Although, Hoodie does remember Alex and how he was no longer Brian..okay well, he was Brian, but...not the same.

It's life, going through life lessons and you're in the process of character development, it was like that but it happened so quick for him that he was like a switch, he doesn't remember the last time he felt 'normal'.

Now, Toby. It was like a slow boil, adding in ingredients, not following recipe and wondering what was gonna be created. So much had happened to him with bullies, his step dad and whoever else wanted to get on his nerves. He didn't have much but Lyra and that was pretty much all he remembers now. Bits and pieces of his past, only just enough to make sense of why he should be grateful for Slender and why Toby has taken this position among the proxies. But he didn't mind it so much, why the fuck would he want to remember his past- apart from Lyra. Yeah, sure it hurt and feels like there is a piece of him missing all the time, but, at least there was a reason for him being so unhinged.

"Wake up, Tobs." Hoodie says, kicking the edge of the mattress a little, trying to stir Toby awake with his best ability to not also make him upset. If there was one thing that he could agree with Masky on, it's that Toby becomes the biggest dick ever when forced to wake up- that or he's whiny. He got no response back from Toby and he sighs, kicking again, but again, no response. "Dammit...Masky, did you force the sleeping pills down his throat?' He growls, looking over his shoulder at Masky who was leaning against the wall by the door.

"And have the possibility of me having to carry him around like a limp dick that he is? No thanks. Maybe he just hasn't gotten enough sleep lately." he shrugs. Hoodie sighs, nodding as he looks down at Toby, who as he was an active sleeper, his legs were tangled up in the blankets, pillow tossed over his face, his body angled in a weird way and the bed sheets were pulled off.

"NO!" he suddenly shot up, the pillow flying and his eyes widened and like he was out of his mind, psychotic almost, but Hoodie knew better. He rushes over as the younger one breathes heavily, cold sweat breaking around his skin as he starts to shake.  Hoodie sits near his legs, making sure to get in his line of vision. He doesn't snap or touch him as that would trigger Toby and it's not a good thing to snap someone out of an episode like this. "Hey, hey.. It's okay, You're safe." Hoodie says softly, moving his gloves hands in different motions and directions, making Toby focus in and follow them. "Breathe, inhale...1..2..3...hold...1...2..3..4 exhale." he continues this for a few more minutes until he knows that Toby's breathing was back to normal and was blinking, looking around at his surroundings, bringing himself back to reality.

"T-thanks. " He mumbles, he hates having to get help over something he should know how to deal with already. He's had these fucking nightmares for years and yet, they always feel like the first time and remain fresh on his mind until he snaps out of it. Masky swallows thickly, watching the two with mild interest before noticing the change outside. "It's not raining anymore." he says, making the other two look at the nearest window and nod, agreeing. "Let's get back to the mansion. Grab the things we need and see if BEN can figure anything with the girl." He says, standing up slowly from the bed as his back still hurts from when he fell off the ledge. He recovered mostly, thanks to Slender but his spine did give him a hard time whenever he had to bend a certain way. He use to be the type of sleeper to be on his back, but after the injury he had to figure out another way to sleep.

The men got situated, tightening their shoes and securing their items. Medication check, gun and bullets check, making sure they didn't leave anything behind of theirs or something that they may have missed in the apartment before leaving.

It was still chilly and their clothes were damp, but it was better than nothing and they were sure they spotted a laundry mat a few blocks down. Masky collected some quarters around the house so, at least they could get their hoodies warm and dry. After that, they made their way to the mansion.

"I don't know ma, I already paid for the room so I might as well use it." your mom called you this morning, wanting to visit you or vice versa. She thought that you could use a little break from working so hard and being 'so alone' at your place. Which, you appreciate the thought and could definitely get away from all the bullshit that was happening, but you were scared to go back to your apartment and pack what you needed. Plus, you didn't know if the men were there and just waiting for you. The thought makes goosebumps spread over your arms and neck, rubbing it nervously as you were forming an ache from the cheap bed. "I know, honey, but here, I can pay you the money you spent and take you out. It's been a very long time since I've seen you and I miss you sooooo much." you couldn't help but smile at that. Who could say no to getting paid for the money they wasted, getting spoiled and whatever else would happen.

For fucks sake, it wouldn't hurt you and you wouldn't have to think about being hunted and feeling like you can't close your eyes for even a few hours of sleep. "Okay, well, you know I don't have a car-"

"I'll pick you up. Just give me the address again and I'll be there in a few hours, mama had lots of coffee." she giggles, making you shake your head as she was a bit hyper when she has more than three cups of coffee. "Alright, just be careful. I'll text you the address." you say, stuffing items back into your bag and grabbing your keys and wallet, letting your pockets swallow them. "Okay, bye, love you." she says and you say the same, hanging up.

You blow out a breath, making your bangs lift up a little as you muster enough courage, picking up the bag and leaving the hotel room.

Please let things go back to normal.

[awkbo0b]

Two of a Kind:1

A/N: Hey everyone, I finished Outer Banks on Netflix about a week ago and I fell in love with the Pogues. Mainly JJ. So I after reading some of there really creative writing about JJ x Reader i came across an idea for my own spin off story. the girl in the story will be named Mae Clemonds, this helps my flow with writing. Also this chapter is going to be a bit boring since i need to introduce my characters and give background on them, but once this passes it should be better and will have much more of JJ and the rest of the Pogues!

Now imagine JJ meeting a girl who is so much like him he can hardly stand her, and same goes to the girl. Can you already feel the sexual tension?

Warnings: swearing, underage drinking

~~

As I pack my third suitcase that i have strictly made for my art supplies, I hear a knock at my door. “Hey, Mae, how is it going in here?” I turn to see my mom standing in the doorway, she has dry clay smeared across her forehead, as usual, and her curly ginger hair is somehow managed into a bun on top of her head.

“Oh you know, it’s going. Got all my water colors here,” I say as i point to them in my suit case, “and my notebooks here, and all my brushes, pencils, and pens are in the pocket.” I smile as i close the suit case and zip it up. “Now I am all set.” I glance at the other two large suitcases that are full of clothes and bathroom necessities, then up to meet my mom’s bright blue eyes. “How about you and dad?”

Mom returns a smile, “Good, your farther finished packing this morning and we just finished the piece as planed. Once I am washed up we will be ready in about thirty minutes, go ahead and load these into the car.” she responded as she pushed herself away from the door frame and began to turn away from the room. “It’s going to be a great summer, I can feel it!” mom adds as she gracefully moves down the hallway, throwing her hands in balled fist above her head as if she just won something. 

A couple months ago my aunt Sadie called my mom and dad offering a once in a life time opportunity. Something that you should know about my family is that we are artist, all of us. My great grandma Allison was the one who started the line of artist. She was an amazing painter, oil was her favorite but you could give her mustard and she would still create art. Her and my great grandpa Clemonds opened up their own gallery, and it has been passed down through the generations. The artistic touch also ran through the family. Not all of us are painters, some are photographers, and others are sculptors like my mom and dad. I like to draw/sketch and use water colors.  But no matter what their choice of media is, my family creates art and adds it to the gallery. The Clemonds family is widely well known in the art community.

So back to the once-in-a-lifetime-opportunity that my Aunt Sadie called my mom about a couple months ago, is the chance for them to create a series together.

About two years ago my Aunt Sadie and her family moved to the coast of North Carolina for a new scenery for their photography. Living in Chicago does give you a lot to work with but my Aunt needed something with more green and less buildings. This move included my cousin Tony, who also happens to be my best friend.

Tony said that where she lives is called Outer Banks and the elite class of the area are a different level of filthy rich. Nose up in the air, refuse to look at anyone who makes anything less that six figures a year level of filthy rich. And these people did their research on my cousin’s family the second they moved in down the street and instantly started asking for personalized art they could buy.

My Aunt agreed to set up her own business to start selling her art there without the ties of the family gallery back at home, and then one day she came up with a great idea. She wanted my mom and dad to come to North Carolina and to work with her. Neither me or Tony know what our parents had in mind but after two years I’m going to see my best friend, and the plane leaves in 2 hours.

-

The drive from the airport to Tony’s house felt hours, I am so excited to see her. We facetime every day but it’s not the same and seeing each other in person. Once the rental car pulls into the long driveway leading up to one of the biggest houses I have every seen, I see Tony running down the porch. Her long, wavy, blonde hair flying behind her with the biggest smile on her face.

“Dad, can you just stop right here for me, so I can get out?” I almost whine, just as happy to see Tony and as she is to see me. Dad chuckles and bring the car to a stop long enough for me to hop out.

Tony and I clash together in a clumsy hug. “Oh God Mae, I’ve missed you!” Tony squeals, hugging me a little tighter.

“Same here, dude,” I pull away to look at her face, to see she is crying. Tony and I are so different in so many ways. She is that cute soft girl who wears skirts, always her hair done, and is emotional. Where as with me and my dark brunette hair, I like to wear worn down t shirts and shoes with denim shorts that are frayed at the end. I speak everything that comes to mind, down for almost anything, and communicating emotions is my weakness.”Lets get my shit inside so you can show me around.” I wrap my arm around her shoulder and we make our way to the parked car to unpack.

~

After unpacking Tony told me about a ‘kegger’ that was going to go down near the beach called the boneyard.

“Fuck yeah, lets do it!” I say in a loud whisper so her parents didn’t hear.

Tony laughs, “just to remind you though, remember when I told you about the rival between kooks and pogues?”

“Um, yeah vaguely, why?”

“Well I live in figure eight which is technically kook territory so when going to this party to avoid any drama we should probably stick with the kooks.” Tony’s voice got quieter at the end of that sentence. She knows when she tries to give me advice I typically tend to ignore it and cause issues.

“Well,” I begin, plopping myself onto her bed, “I guess I can try, but if I remember correctly, the kooks are the one who are in the wrong most of the time?” My parents (Tony’s parents too) raised me to not see someone as a social class, judge them on how they treat you not by how much money they have.

“Yeah, normally they talk down on the pouges because they are from much less but,-”

“But that’s not cool Tony, we both know this.” I cut her off a little more harshly than intended.

“But,” Tony’s tone is desperate for me to hear her out,”I had a lot of troubles making friends and fitting in when I first came here two years ago. And I’m just starting to not be the weird new girl who sits in the art studio all day.” Tony sits down next me. “I’m not asking you to be rude or to look down on people, just to help me keep some of the friends I have finally made here.”

I let out a long sigh, “I’ll do my best.” Tony jumped from the bed and did a little victory dance, she only did this when she got her way with me. “Well, lets start getting ready.” Tony laughs as she start going my clothes to help me find something to wear.

~

As we walked down a sandy pathway through the trees, a bonfire came into view, along with a large group of people around the ages of 16 to 19. The sight of the fire inspired an idea of a drawing that I will probably start tomorrow. “where should we place our cooler?” I asked Tony.

“Looks like everyone is placing theirs over by that tree, most of the time its help yourself at these things so don’t become alarmed if you see someone getting into our cooler.” Tony shakes her finger at me knowing that I wouldn’t hesitate to confront anyone. I raise my hands up in surrender.

“I’m on my best behavior tonight.” I gave my best smile, causing Tony to giggle. “Now lets start the night off right.” Once we got our cooler placed we opened it and took out a sandwich bag that contained two limes, and our small bottle of tequila. It’s tradition for us to start our nights drinking with a shot together. Once the first shot is down we drink what we want. “Cheers,” I say then take a chug from the bottle and hand it to Tony as I bite my lime, and she does the same. Then we place the tequila back and grab ourselves a beer and walk towards the crowd of people.

Tony introduces me to a couple people she has become friends with in the last school year. They all seem nice but the entitlement that radiates off of them is insane. “So, you guys are from the same family, right?” asked one of the boys who i didn’t bother to remember his name.

“I mean, that’s what cousins normally means, right?” My tone came out harsh and Tony bumped me with her hip to remind me to play nice. The guy rolled his eyes in annoyance, causing me to raise an eyebrow. “If you don’t want a sarcastic answer don’t asked a stupid question.” I finished my beer in one big gulp.

“I was just making sure because you don’t seem to be the one who lives a life like Tony’s,” I feel Tony put her arm around my shoulder to try and calm me down, but the smug express the guy had on his face pushed me over the edge.

“Oh? Because how I look really defines my social class, right?”

“Hey, we are going to take a walk.” Tony steps between me and the guy, “Enjoy your night.” she says over her should as tony pulls me from the group.

Tony and I walk toward the coolers so I can get another beer. “can’t beleive that dick head.” I utter under my breath. Tony begins to giggle, she knows there is no point in trying to lecture me, because in the end we both know I was in the right. “Seriously Tony, I’m sorry you have to be around people like that.”

“Yeah kooks are no fun,” I turn to see a blonde guy with a red baseball cap going through coolers to find a beer of his choosing. “But at least they bring good beer.” The blonde is dressed in cargo shorts and a stretched out tank top, not khakis and polo shirts like the guys Tony had just introduced you too. I notice him make his way to our cooler. He pulled out a beer, shut the lid and used it as a seat to look at you and Tony.

“Hey, lets go back to the fire, we can get a beer in a minute.” Tony’s giggling has stopped and now she’s grabbing my arm trying to pull me away.

“Ah come on princess kook, no need to be scared.” The smirk on the guys face sent excitement through me.

“Mae,” Tony started but I cut her off.

“T, you can go back. I’ll get a beer and meet you there.” I try to sound as soft as Tony does when she tries to assure me. Tony looked at the guy then back to me. She nodded and then turned to make her way back to the group of people we were just at.

“You must not be from around here, a tourist?” The blonde pulls a lighter out of his pocket and pops open they beer. “If so, I’m as local as the come and you seem to need a guide.” He then winks and take a takes a swig of the beer. I return a smirk, trying to come off as flirty and make my way towards him.

“How often does that line work for you?”

“Well, normally tourist don’t ask that question.” as I get closer I lean down to be at the same level as him, I notice the blonde look down at my lips.

“Well I dont need a guide but,” I stand up straight and take the bottle from his hand, “for a local you are a very good host, thank you for opening my beer.” I place the bottle against my lips and take a drink.

the blonde shoots up from where he was sitting and takes the bottle back from me. “Dude find your own.”

I give him an innocent smile, “Well you see, that is mine, its from my cooler.” I take the bottle back and turn on my heels, “The name is Mae, hope to see you around blondie.”

“Wished the feeling was mutual!” The blond hollers after me then I hear slight chuckles come from him. I make my way to Tony who is now with a group of girls.

~~

A/N hey so there are probably a handful of mistakes, I was just excited to get this out. Once again, sorry for it being slow in the beginning I was trying to build Mae up so you could know her a little more. the more notes the faster the second part will come out!

UPDATE: I HAVE MOVED THIS FANFIC TO WATTPAD, HERE IS THIS LINK! LOVE YOU ALL THANK YOU FOR THE NOTES!

[tsipasce]

Same Difference, ch.01

Summary: When Chronostasis is almost crushed by a falling beam, a passerby, Nanami, saves him. In an instant, she disassembles and reassembles it into harmless bits of metal. There are no other witnesses, but after she leaves, he makes an urgent call. "Overhaul, we need to talk. Now."

A/N: As you can see, I am terrible at summaries, but this is a multichapter fic that began as a plain reader insert but morphed into a beast all its own. Anybutts, I’ll be putting out chapters every week because Overhaul is a dick, but I just can’t help myself. Let me know what y’all think~

Chapter links:  02

AO3 | Fanfic

It was a picturesque late summer day, the sun was shining brighter than All Might’s smile and the clouds were fluffier than Fat Gum— Man I should really.. not get into poetry. That was terrible. Nanami thought to herself as she began daydreaming. She’d been cooped up in her office for what felt like ages and the temptation to escape from her office was palpable. She’d call it an escape, but in her defense, she’d chipped away rather efficiently at her mountain of paperwork and her last appointment of the day wasn’t for another couple hours. Before the mental argument for frolicking over to the nearby café could be made, she’d already grabbed her keys and purse and was out the door of her office. Walking down the hall, she made small talk and greeted her colleagues and coworkers in passing. It had only been a year and a half since graduating, but she was confident that hearing her name with Dr. in front of it would never get old.  

“Well look who decided to leave their cave today…” a distant voice called from behind. The figure coming towards her was waving a bit too enthusiastically for someone who’d just worked 12 hours straight.

“ Ha. Ha. How very original ~” she replied dryly.

He stopped at a comfortable distance in front of her and smiled. Forgetting how nice it was to see a friendly face after being cooped up in her office, she reflexively returned a tired smile of her own.

Dr. Tanaka was one of those colleagues who was just cool enough to be considered an actual friend outside of work and after her own, long shift she could use a casual chat with a friend.

“Headed out for a break?” He continued.

“Finally, yes. It’s just too nice outside and mama needs a sugar rush. Want to come with?”

“No thanks, I think I’m going to finish my rounds and head home, but if you’re looking for sugar, I’d avoid the usual spot. Some petty criminals were caught there earlier so it’s cordoned off for the rest of the day.”

“Really?” She sighed, annoyed at the inconvenience.

“Yes, really. But, there is a place I passed by this morning that had one of the best mochas I’ve had in a while, you should try it out and let me know what you think.” He replied seeing her perk up at the mention of anything related to chocolate.

“Well, I’m down to do a little coffee shop research,” she replied having already made her order in her head.” I’ll give it a try.”

“There’s a good sport. What’s the worst that could happen? Here’s the address” he texted her the location and an adorable café with way too many sweets popped up—Tanaka was definitely a good friend.

Mentally already at the café, she said her goodbyes and headed out the door, determined to seize what was left of the day and some pastries.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 On her way, Nanami decided to take the scenic route. It was about the same distance as her usual spot, just in a different direction. Having already mentally noted the directions, she took the opportunity to really appreciate what she’d been missing. All the sounds and sights of a peaceful Friday afternoon. People walking about on errands, the sound of kids playing in the park nearby, and the smell of something amazing letting her know she was headed in the right direction. A creaking noise broke her out of her reverie and she looked up to see a load of large steel beams being moved by a crane. It seemed way too risky to be moving such large materials in a place that densely populated, but she figured they had to build it somehow and continued on her journey.

After another block she turned the corner, spotting her destination. Walking in, she was thankful the atmosphere matched the photos and had already planned on thanking Tanaka for such a solid recommendation. The barista actually looked like she was enjoying her job and cheerily informed her that the pastry she’d picked was baked fresh every day in-house to complement their homemade syrups. Could this day get any better?

While waiting for her order, Nanami got a text that her appointment needed to come in earlier, and she’d need to return to the office soon. Eh, that’s alright, I’ll still have 30 minutes to enjoy the food on the walk back. The barista called her name and she hurriedly picked up her order, assuring them she’d be back again.

One foot already in another daydream, she leisurely made the walk back to the hospital, taking in the sights. The people eating in the bistro, the smell of flowers in the local shop, the sound of the wires creaking and buckling above the strange man in the alley… Hold up.

Oh shit. Nanami thought to herself, already exasperated.

As much as people called doctors heroes, she wasn’t that type of hero. Her quirk just wasn’t meant for that kind of work. However, judging by how precariously the beam was dangling above his head, she thought she might need to reconsider. Before she could finish her internal conflict, her feet were moving. If I could just get in range to yell at him, he might be able to get out of the way in time. Maybe. Did she really want to take that gamble with a stranger’s life though? She knew the answer before it was asked, pressing forward towards the site.

He was across the street and she hopped over the guard rails, thanking her lucky stars she took a passing interest in parkour that one year in college. Just as she cleared the rail, the cord holding the beam snapped. Her heart sunk, knowing what she’d have to do. Unless he had a speed quirk, she was his only chance. She and her quirk...

Revamp? No, that sounds lame. Renovate? Okay well now I just sound like I have some weird home improvement power—but enough of that. Focus, girl.

He heard the beam falling and glanced upwards, his expression making it clear that he knew it was too late to use whatever quirk he had to get out of it. Right before the look of acceptance could settle onto his face, she jumped beside him, her hand stretched upwards towards the beam. Her fingertip and the metal made contact for a split second and then… “clink”. A thousand more tiny clinking noises followed soon after. She’d done it.

Though disassembling the beam into a thousand tiny nuts wasn’t amazing per se, it beat turning it into a plume of toxic dust for passerby’s to inhale or disassembling the beam into two and risking the halves falling onto another street or a nearby building. Judging by the very alive man next to her, she’d say she did a pretty good job for a not-hero.

It seemed as if the alley was closed off enough that thankfully no one else on the street had noticed the commotion, and the construction workers would take a few minutes to get down to where they assumed the beam would have landed. Now came the hard part: Making sure no one knew exactly what happened and that I was ever here.

Nanami was very secretive of her quirk. She used it sparingly to help people and perform everyday tasks with a bit of convenience, but deep down she knew it had the potential to be something else. She’d learned the hard way to keep it in check and avoided overindulging. Only her parents and her closest friends knew what it was and even then, she did her best to downplay it. Especially after the incident.

She snapped out of her inner monologue to see a very shocked man standing next to her, staring at her as if he’d seen something that was both extraordinary, yet familiar. He was a little taller than her but seemed close to her in age. He was wearing what appeared to be a stark white raincoat and had distinctive, pointy hair—not just pointy, she noted, there’s whole arrows at the end. Quirks really produce some interesting phenotypes…

Remembering that she needed to remedy the situation and get back to the office as soon as humanly possible, she broke the silence.

“Uhhhm, hi. Are you alright?” she began nervously.

“How did you ...” He still looked like he had seen a ghost, but she needed this interaction to end before the construction workers came and started asking questions.

“Look, I know this must be a bit jarring, but I really need to go. Will you be alright until someone else arrives?” She quickly realized being both direct and smooth was more difficult than she’d imagined.

An emotion she couldn’t put a name to flashed across his face and he recomposed himself.

“Could I at least know your name to thank you?” He asked innocently.

“Oh no, you don’t have to thank me. But if you really want to—just do me a solid and promise me you’ll keep this between the two of us, please?” She said antsy and almost pleading, knowing the workers and passerby’s curious about the missing giant beam and metal rain could come by at any second.

He paused and she could tell he wanted to say more but didn’t. “Of course, thank you for you hel—”

With the verbal confirmation that her secret was seemingly safe, she ran like the wind out of the vicinity and back to the safety of her office. After recollecting herself, she realized her treats had gotten lost in the melee and her pockets were now full of various nuts and bolts. No wonder why it was so hard to run... she thought to herself, emptying out 10-15lbs of bolts from her coat pockets.  Looks like I won’t need to go to the hardware store for a while…

She quickly shrugged it off and walked into her appointment, already plotting to do nothing but sip some wine at home and chastise herself for not being more discreet about using her quirk.

 ++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

 As Chronostasis was inspecting the sight of the Hassakai’s latest development, he had lost himself completely in thought. By the time he realized his error he was sure it was too late. He had never used his quirk on an object that large and in that moment of hesitation he feared the worst. Then in an instant, a woman stood beside him under the falling beam and did what he’d only seen one other person do before: Overhaul. With a single touch she disassembled the object and reformed it into something else. Perhaps it was a fluke, he considered, but if so, why did she seem so desperate to keep it a secret? As she bolted before he could finish his sentence, he followed her silently a few blocks before she entered a nearby hospital.

After reconfirming with himself what he’d seen, he made a prompt call, forgoing the usual formality in his calm urgency.

“We need to talk. Now.”