#not to mention all the contouring and and other makeup choices I make

[laequiem]

Kiss-proof

/ Jude has lost Cardan in the mall. Of course, he is in the one place she would never go. Domestic fluff, fluffy fluffiest fluff

Fandom: The Folk of The Air

Rating: T for mention of characters having a sex life, but that's it.

The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

read on ao3 • part of Tales from the Mortal Realm

I check my bulky flip phone for the 5th time.

4:23pm.

I don't know why I expected Cardan to be back on time. I had some errands to do—which might include lingerie I wanted to keep secret until our anniversary—so I told him to explore the mall on his own. I gave him some (real, non-glamoured) money to spend like a child with an allowance.

There are so many red flags with this whole plan.

I do not like to admit it, but I'm worried. My extravagant husband has enough trouble fitting in with humans when he is with me, I can only imagine the trouble he can get himself in without me. Or the trouble that can find him when I am not there to protect him.

I get up from the bench that I had designed as our meeting point. Where could he be? Anywhere I would not go, which does not narrow the list down very much. As I walk around, I can imagine him enjoying every single one of these places.

Cardan smelling some bath bombs and chatting up with a pushy Lush salesperson. All that glitter, all that dye—the servants would rage at having to clean the tub afterwards.

Cardan entering a sterile-looking jewelry store, eyes glittering at all the precious gems.

Cardan browsing Hot Topic, digging into bowls of plastic rings and looking at shirts for bands he does not know.

My stomach drops as I stand before the one store I know I will find him in. Black-and-white striped pillars stand on either side of the storefront and the dreaded white font over black spells out the name of the store: Sephora.

I have never entered a Sephora before. They are intimidating and I know nothing about their products. Whenever I needed new eyeliner, I would just ask Vivi to buy me whichever one she thought was best. Nowadays, I can count on my husband's extensive makeup collection and skills.

“We have servants to do this!” I had insisted the first time he approached me with a kohl pencil. He had laughed, and I let him line my eyes. Ever since, I look forward to it. It’s a small, intimate gesture with which we prove our love to each other without saying a word. It is his way of showing care, and my way of showing trust.

I pass the threshold of the store and I spot him immediately. Even without my True Sight making his glamour ripple when I gaze at him, I would still have a hard time believing he is human. His glamour is perfect—rounded ears, no tail, the glitter of his skin dulled down to a normal healthy shine—but every glamour should have a flaw. The flaw in Cardan's glamour is the same detail that infuriates me when I look at his face when he wakes up: he is impossibly beautiful. Not handsome like a popular actor, not pretty like the members of a boyband. He is absolutely devastating, just as he is as a faerie.

Even amongst gorgeous people who perfected their faces through makeup and good lighting, he stands out.

For me, however, bewilderment comes from seeing Cardan wait in line like a normal person. Like a boy who did not grow up as an entitled prick. It shakes me so much that I stop in my tracks and watch him walk up to the register once the previous client leaves.

He adapts better than I give him credit for. My heart swells with love for this male who keeps challenging and surprising me.

I go to bypass the line and I catch a snippet of his conversation with the boy manning the cash register. On the counter lay piles of makeup, from eyeshadow palettes to colorful eyeliner.

"A good choice!" the cashier exclaims, holding a dark lipstick, "it has the best matte finish. It even passes the kiss test!"

I swear I can see him wiggle his perfectly defined eyebrows. The smile he gives Cardan is wicked—the same kind of grin my husband gives me over dinner then he's feeling particularly hungry.

"The kiss test?" my husband asks, a grin forming on his sinful lips.

"Yeah," the cashier replies, "you can make out with someone, it won't budge. Or transfer."

I get to Cardan’s side and the cashier notices me then. His brows raise in surprise for a moment before he schools his features into a socially acceptable customer service smile.

I can't blame him for his surprise—Cardan and I could not look any more mismatched. His sharp features are accentuated with contouring and a lighter version of his usual silver highlighter. I, on the other hand, barely had time to brush my hair before putting on an oversized hoodie and leggings. I bet I look like someone he took pity on and brought to the mall for a makeover.

"Where is the fun in that?" Cardan looks at me then, his dark eyes twinkling with mischief. "Still, I suppose I will have to try."

I roll my eyes and he presses a kiss to the top of my head.

The cashier tells Cardan the total, and he raises a brow when my husband starts counting cash. I know other humans use cards nowadays, but without a permanent address in the Mortal Realm, we have been dealing exclusively in cash—mostly given by Vivi in exchange for Elfhame goods.

The boy thanks Cardan for his purchase, and it's all I can do not to laugh when he replies "you're very welcome", like that is a normal thing to say to a retail employee.

On our way out, Cardan stops by one of the many mirrors in the store and applies his new lipstick, ending with a pop of his luscious lips.

"Really? You couldn't wait until we got back to the hotel?"

I smile teasingly at him, and he grins back. The lipstick is deep, dark purple.

"If I did, nobody would see it but you." He slides an arm around my waist and winks. "That would be a shame, when it looks so good."

I roll my eyes and slip out of his embrace, making towards the exit. When my back is turned to him, I allow myself a smile. It does look good, I think, though I won't give him the satisfaction of saying it aloud.

"Jude, wait—"

With those long legs of his, Cardan catches up to me quickly. He puts a hand on my shoulder and spins me around to face him. I lift my chin to look at him, and his expression sends a chill down my spine. This face used to send unwanted images of our younger days to my brain—Cardan spitting on my shoes, pulling my hair, kicking my lunchbox. Nowadays, this wickedness sends my blood rushing south and fills me with memories of his clever fingers and his face between my legs.

"I was not done," he says as he circles my waist again, pulling me towards him sternly. "I have to debunk the claims the boy made."

"Fine," I say, and peck him quickly on the lips.

He chuckles. "You know that won't do, Jude dearest."

Cardan leans towards me. Instinctively, I part my lips and close my eyes. Even after all this time, I hate that he has this effect on me, even though I know it's not fair. I have spent my whole life training with a blade while he spent his training his mind and body to seduce and manipulate.

His lips claim mine and I all but melt into him. I forget where we are, how utterly exposed we are to the judgement of others. I seek out his tongue with mine and bite his lip the way he likes.

Cardan pulls away and I chase after his lips, desperate for more, until I feel his mouth on my neck. Slender fingers grip my chin, angling my head to allow him access.

I open my eyes and finally remember myself, where we are and how inappropriate this is—

"Cardan!"

He hums in question as his cruel mouth continues kissing its way up to my ear. His hand moves back towards my nape and tangles in my hair, pulling lightly.

"We're in—you can't just do that! People are—"

I look around, mortified. The mall is not that crowded, but I see people looking abruptly away when I look in their direction. A mother covers her child's eyes as she notices us. An old lady sneers.

I feel Cardan grin against my skin before dragging his teeth up my ear to nibble at the curved cartilage.

I give a small shove to his chest and he pulls away with a chuckle that curls my toes.

"You're shameless," I say.

"You look like you drank an entire bottle of faerie wine," he replies, then gives a quick kiss to my heating cheek.

When he pulls back, he inspects my face with narrowed eyes, then my neck. He lets out an impressed hum.

"It seems he was right. No marks."

I laugh and his eyes light up, a genuine smile forming on his dark lips.

"Will you buy more, then?" I ask.

"No. I prefer when it leaves marks."

[thewheezingwyvern]

OOO OOO PICK ME PICK ME!

I would like Bakugou or Kirishima please 🥺

Imma pick number 13 for inspo unless that's been done already. SFW or NSFW whatever you want I'm just excited to read 👀 can you take my Katsukikitten blog when/if you answer this?

🖤 Katsukikitten

Ooooh @katsukikitten you gave me some good wiggle room to work with. I ended up going SFW because I had an idea! Hopefully this helps fill your Bakugou needs!

𝘈𝘱𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘰'𝘴 𝘊𝘶𝘳𝘴𝘦

Oracle!Bakugou x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst, Mention of blood and death

It was midday by the time you and Bakugou reached your destination. Rather, you reached where your partner had intended to take you and until that moment you had no idea what place it was he had in mind. Turns out, it was an old canyon that speared through the vast expanse of the Aural Desert. Sweat was pouring from your skin and Katsuki was no better, having shed his shirt during the travel some time ago. The horse you two had taken, a northern dunn that was bred to travel in the desert, nickered softly in approval once shade eclipsed over you. It was still blazingly hot but the further you strayed into the craggy paths tucked away from the sun’s glare, the cooler it grew. The change in temperature was a blessing, small on paper but large in practice.

“Keep up.” He snapped back at you over his shoulder.

A frown twisted across your lips, brows furrowing. Katsuki was not known for his calm nature but he had been far more irritable and snappish in the past few weeks. And not once had he even given you a hint of answers until today. It was slow work picking through the canyon, razor ferns creeping through cracks in the rocky walls that threatened to slice your flesh if either of you brushed against their leaves. Your mouth was incredibly dry and you wished you had the proper gloves so you could pluck those leaves off their stems and cut them open. When carefully handled, razor fern leaves stored a lot of water and could help slake your thirst.

“Where are we going Katsuki?” you asked for the fifth time that day.

“If you ask me one more time, I’m going to leave you behind, brat.” He snapped back at you, “Now shut up and follow me.”

Crestfallen at another question unanswered, you followed with a scowl. Katsuki had come and found you just before you joined your father in his tent with his retainers. Your absence would surely be noticed so you felt that you were owed at least something of an explanation. But your friend, crush and body guard was impossibly stubborn and you knew you would sooner have luck asking a mountain to move for you than get him to change his mind. Bakugou, however, was going out of his mind himself. As your bodyguard , appointed by the chief himself, he knew it was risky to bring you into the desert. A calloused hand touched the hilt of his curved scimitar sheathed at his hip. If anyone or anything tried to touch you, he’d make them regret it.

“We’re here.” He finally said.

‘Here’ was a rocky alcove, the wall of the canyon stretching up to blot out the light of the sun. Buried in the wall were long bands of vibrant color, smoky purples, vivacious reds, shimmering golds and streaks of laughing teals that were like the captured spirit of the seas so far away. It was a stunning alcove. And the cliff was clearly formed of the rocks and clay that your people used to craft their paints and makeups for use. But it was still just a wall and you couldn’t figure out why Katsuki would want to bring you to it. You folded your arms beneath your breasts, looking around once before turning back to your protector.

“It’s a wall.”

“Heh, shows what you know.” He sneered.

The blonde advanced forward to a large stone slab that was settled up against the wall. It didn’t look any different than the other rocks in the area. That is until he started sliding the rock to the side, fine granules of sand on the ground helping fill the air with a crunching sound. When he was finished, he revealed a tunnel that was worn into the side of the canyon. Katsuki smirked smugly at you before gesturing towards the opening of the hidden cave.

“After you, princess.”

When you glared at him as you walked by, he closed in behind you snickering. The light from outside streamed in enough to illuminate your first several steps into the cave. But just around the bend there was a distant light as well, it pooled on the walls and beckoned you forward. You’d never seen a glow like that and it was entrancing, urging you forward without being nudged by your companion. The passage snaked deeper into the rock, bands of the same color following you along until the both of you emerged into a chamber. Above in the ceiling, a small hole allowed a beam of sunlight to stream through until it gathered on a large pool of water that was nestled in the center of the chamber. At first you thought the water was glowing because of the single ray of sunshine that struck the calm surface of the pool but closer inspection revealed that wasn’t the case. Mesmerized, you feet carried you forward without your permission to see that this was more than a simple pool. There was a sharp drop cut into earth, almost like a sink hole that led deep into the ground. The water glowed in a myriad of icy blue, deepened violet and fractals of starlight.

“What is this place?” you whispered softly, your voice echoing off the walls.

“This is a sacred pool.” Katsuki supplied, falling beside you, “This is where oracles like me used to go to magnify their foresight. They used to be everywhere but they’ve been drying up more and more as the years pass.”

“I thought those were a myth.”

“They’re real…”

A far off, haunted expression flickered over his face, leading you to touch his arm, “Katsuki…what did you see?”

His foresight had proven invaluable for your clan and he was almost never wrong. But never before had you seen him look so tortured. Silence fell over you both for several moments before he started to walk forward. Even with his back to you, the pool bathed him in an ethereal light, shadows gathering along the contours of his back. Bakugou turned his head and looked over his shoulder at you.

“It’ll be easier to just show you. Come here.”

Tentatively you drew closer to him until you both were standing at the edge of the sacred pool. It swirled before you, begging for you to enter it’s depths and see the it’s wonders. But it was really, really deep and it was hard not to feel nervous. Bakugou seemed to notice your hesitation and snorted with disdain.

“You really think I would have you do something dangerous, brat? I’m supposed to protect you.”

“Well there was that one time-”

“That was your idea, dumbass, not mine.”

You giggled, “It worked out didn’t it?”

Katsuki let the corner of his mouth twitch before he turned to face you. Suddenly you were aware of how close he was to you and how he still wasn’t wearing a shirt. The tanned plains of his chest begged for your hands to touch and wander but the serious expression in face made that thought evaporate. A rough hand came up and clapped you on the top of your head gently, shaking you a bit in a display of affection.

“Trust me, princess…”

“…Ok.”

Bakugou pulled you to him and the both of you leapt into the pool. The initial contact was like normal water, refreshingly cool and it chased away the heat that had built up in you from the desert sun. But soon the feeling evaporated and it was like the two of you were floating in the night sky. With surprise you found yourself able to breathe and you drifted with Katsuki, sinking deeper down into the embrace of the sacred waters. Flecks of fiery red flaked off of your companion, swirling around the two of you until they shattered into fractals to form intricate images. Images of fire and blood. Thick plumes of smoke were rising from the the caravan of tents that your clan made their homes in, blotting out the sky in inky clouds. A flash and you saw your father with a sword hilted into his chest and the culprit was one of his own retainers.

The pool shifted colors then to golden yellow, showing Bakugou trying to warn your father. It showed him being ignored, dismissed that his vision was incorrect and that he just didn’t know what he was seeing. Your body guard hauled you against him, your back pressed up against his chest as he cradled you close. His arms squeezed you tightly, as if he were afraid you would drift away from him if he let go. The fractals of light continued to swirl, shifting to paint out your future, each more grim than the last if you stayed to fight. A thousand and one ways you could try to save your clan and a thousand and one ways you would fail.

“There is no hope for them…” he whispered out hoarsely, “But there is for you…runaway with me.”

“But…but maybe with me there my father will-”

“I’ve already tried to warn him. And I’ve already tried to see that way too. He won’t listen.” Katsuki buried his face into your shoulder, his arms squeezing you even tighter to him, “If you don’t leave…your death is the nicest fate out of all of them.”

“Is there really no other way?”

“No…No there isn’t.” Was he crying? “I’m supposed to protect you but even I can’t stand against an entire fucking army. Princes…please. Runaway with me.”

“But-”

“I can’t save them,” he interrupted, “but dammit I can save you. Don’t be stupid.”

Tears were flowing from your eyes as you felt reality crash down around your ears. Live with your clan wandering the sands was over no matter what choice you made. But the thought of leaving behind your family without even trying left a bitter taste in your mouth. But there was really no way out. And that was how you decided to leave your life and clan behind: bathed in starlight and sinking into a never ending pit.

((Want to participate in Arcane April? Check out my post here about the event and send in your requests!))

[costellos]

a/n: I’ve been reminiscing on a lot of cheesy romcoms and one of my favorite tropes are “dates that aren’t officially dates but basically are dates.” we love a good yearning. that said, here are some #unofficialofficialdates that the boys use to spend time with you!

tw: mentions of drugs

❥ ┋ ❝ bucci gang & what excuses they use to get closer to you!

bruno bucciarati.

Bucciarati gets closer to you by having you assist him at “fundraisers.” 

Passione holds a handful of events throughout the year. elaborate parties with expensive champagne, mindless chatter, and some very high-profile attendees. people will join to officialize deals, buy drugs, and of course, donate to keep Passione thriving.

Bucciarati usually goes alone, acting as a representative for his escort team. this isn’t the type of scene you’d see the others at. but up until your joining, you’ve found yourself as his sole companion.

it began as a way to familiarize yourself with mobster life. his idea, of course. although he didn’t push the idea, he’d be lying if he said he hoped you would accept. ↳ “it’s not required, but the company would be nice.”

it’s an odd affair. celebrities and politicians join and no one blinks an eye. it’s not where you’d usually find yourself on a Saturday night, with you and your partner dressed to the nines (okay, maybe not a usual scene for you; Bucciarati always had something beautiful draped onto his figure).

the hors d'oeuvres and cocktails are nice, at least. but you find yourself drawn to your conversations with Bucciarati the most.

he makes you feel welcome at every event, that you deserve to be here as much as the starlet making her grand appearance. you’re unsure that you can handle business with new clients, but the way he talks to you is so reassuring and supportive that you quickly help the gang obtain new patrons.

you can’t help but notice that his speech became more casual after the first outing. he’s a fan of crude jokes and local gossip, you find. but you also notice the hand at your hip as he guides you to every following fundraiser. if you look at him while he he does so, he’d send a the kindest grin. ↳ “see? you’re a natural. we need to work on your eye contact, though. clients respond better when they see those pretty eyes look back at them.”

that shameless flirtation came out after your fifth fundraiser. by that point, Bucciarati made less of an effort to hide his attraction toward you. all the other patrons thought you to be a couple. why not play the part? besides, he finds your embarrassment endearing. cute, even. he’s already planning ways to make this night last longer.

leone abbacchio.

Abbacchio gets closer to you by helping you get ready for your missions.

you’re typically the first choice for espionage missions. the way you slip into parties, meetings, anything without anyone noticing is impressive, to say the least. but only part of that is thanks to your own abilities. Abbacchio does a lot of the heavy lifting behind the scenes.

it started when he noticed your god awful attempt at masquerade makeup. your contouring left much to be desired. ↳ “...please don’t tell me you’re actually going out like that.”

and so began a tradition of sorts. you usually meet him at his apartment, considering that’s where all his tools are. it was awkward at first; Abbacchio isn’t the best conversationalist, but he did try to seem somewhat engaged in whatever you had to say.

with time, however, it became easier. less awkward. Abbacchio shares whatever wine (and gossip) he has at his disposal that week. you find that his humor can be quite dry once you melt through that icy exterior. and with more time, you start to notice the tiniest smiles when you pop by.

he’s also less fussy when you ask him to do your makeup. before he would roll his eyes and ask when you were next available, but now... he just says to come by that Friday night. not without some minor teasing, though you found that to be a part of his charm. (plus, the fact you were breaking through to him was exciting in itself.)

he’s incredibly gentle when he does your makeup. he always holds your chin as he dabs liquid foundation onto your face, his hand moving your head for those hard-to-reach areas. when he does your eyeshadow, you can feel that same hand cup your cheek to keep you steady. though intimate, it’s not uncomfortable.

whenever he caught you staring at him, Abbacchio would ask what you were looking at. recently, however, you’ve noticed he merely purses his lips, swallows, and looks away. ↳ “huh. would’ve never known you could look so stunning. you’re welcome.”

his rude teasing made its appearance after eight visits. it’s an awful attempt to deny his feelings. maybe you’ll back off if he’s mean enough. but the way you smile at him after every session, how you shamelessly compliment him... he can’t help himself. he has to get closer to you in any way that he can.

giorno giovanna.

Giorno gets closer to you by asking you to help him with his hair.

you’d often watch girls fawn over Giorno whenever you went on patrols with him. and it’s warranted: his chiseled cheekbones, long lashes, and defined physique had him rival the Roman statues that lined Naples. everything about him is a piece of art. including his hair. 

you caught him struggling to braid his hair shortly before your next patrol. strands would be thicker than others, and in one case, you watched as his hair tie snapped between his fingers. he obviously needed help. ↳ “well, if you’re offering. be my guest.”

so you got to work. it wasn’t a big deal; part of the issue was that Giorno couldn’t see the back of his head. you separated his hair into three strands, weaved them between each other, and tied the ends of his hair into a loop. just as you’d always seen him do it.

but once you finished, Giorno was hooked. the way your fingernails dragged along his scalp, how you were so careful to not pull his hair... it was wonderful. such a small action that felt so personal to him.

he asks you to help him with his hair whenever he can. not too frequently that you’d catch on, though. and he knows you well enough to know you wouldn’t deny his request. you’re far too kind. it’s a little manipulative on his end, but he’s also aware that you wouldn’t mind.

it never feels awkward. he asks you about your day while you work. sometimes he gives you a briefing about what’s on the agenda. though it seems casual on your end, as mentioned, Giorno finds the experience quite intimate. ↳ “I don’t know what it is, but something about your touch is enough to make me feel so relaxed. ...ah, excuse me. was that too forward?”

that statement comes out after you’ve braided Giorno’s hair ten times. by that point, you’ve started to think that he doesn’t really need help with his hair. the fact that he’s started producing flowers to put in your own hair was a dead giveaway. but can you blame him? he loves seeing you blush as he tucks daisies behind your ear.

guido mista.

Mista gets closer to you by showing you his favorite quick eats.

as a long-standing resident of Naples, the gunslinger is aware of all the best restaurants in the city. from hole-in-the walls to elegant restaurants, he knows ‘em all. he has a particular soft spot for the former.

you’re the opposite of him: new to Naples and unaware of what foods await you. Mista takes it upon himself to change that. ↳ “you’ve never heard of Sorbillo and you’ve been living here for how long? ...alright, well. we’re gonna change that. you and me, Sorbillo, this Saturday.”

and thus a new tradition began. whenever you and Mista had a free Saturday night, you’d meet at whatever restaurant he recommended that week. sometimes it was seafood, other nights it was pizza, but it was always something extremely delicious (and extremely unforgettable).

he caters his choices to what you’re in the mood for. Mista’s not a picky eater by any means (so long as it’s not in fours), so he’s down for whatever you want. plus, it lets him get to know your tastes a little better.

he’s a great conversationalist. he can keep you distracted from long lines and longer food prep times. you never get the impression that he’s just making small talk, because honestly, he’s not. he genuinely wants to get to know you better. he usually asks about your life before Passione. 

your weekly outings originally started as a fun hangout between two friends. but during one chilly night, Mista was quick to notice your shivering. he wasted no time in giving you his coat and hat. ↳ “hey, you don’t ever get... I dunno... bored of this, do you? I know we’ve been doing this for a while and... if you ever wanna stop, you can let me know.”

that question came up after your seventh outing. you’d never seen the gunslinger get embarrassed like this. it only comes up because Mista’s realizing how much he loves being around you. he loves when your eyes widen as you take that first bite, he loves when muse how good the food is. he needs to know where you stand before he gets too invested because honestly, he’s starting to love you as well.

narancia ghirga.

Narancia gets closer to you by asking you to help him read. 

Fugo’s not the best tutor. bless him, he tries, but Narancia isn’t the best student either. the latter often spaces out while working. and when he doesn’t, he tries to distract Fugo with some meaningless chatter to end the session sooner. Fugo was quick to catch onto this.

as a result, he turned to you to tutor Narancia. it started as a joke. “if [Name] can’t do it, no one can,” he laughed. the pupil, however, was more than happy to switch tutors. ↳ “fine! [Name]’ll be a better teacher than you ever were!!”

and like that, you were Narancia’s new tutor. not that you minded. it would benefit the whole team if he could read above a primary school level. every Tuesday and Thursday, an hour before the gang’s meetings at Libeccio, you and Narancia would grab a table and go over his reading material. sometimes Fugo joins to watch Narancia’s progress, sometimes Mista to hang out and enjoy a slice of cake, but it’s normally a one-on-one lesson.

Narancia quickly realizes that he likes those lessons best. it’s much easier when the others aren’t teasing him for his inability to read words like “signorile.” plus, he likes his time alone with you. you don’t laugh. you never judge him. if he has a question, he doesn’t feel stupid to come to you about it, even outside of tutoring sessions.

he’s still distracted when he’s with you, but half the time it’s intentional, half the time it’s not. he just wants to learn more about you. he’ll take breaks between questions to ask you about yourself. Narancia usually sticks to questions regarding your hobbies and interests. lord help you if you share the same music taste because he’ll want to share all his favorite tunes with you.

lately he’s been quite diligent with his work. he’ll go a chapter ahead of what you’ve scheduled and... oh my, are those annotations? you’d never seen him smile brighter than when you praised him for his hard work. ↳ “what are we gonna do once my reading is like... really good? we’re not just gonna stop, are we?”

he asks you this after your fourth session. the question came up rather early, honestly. but Narancia was already having a lot of fun after working with you. he knew that this was going to be something worth his time. and when he saw your own smile, he knew that you were worth everything, too. 

pannacotta fugo.

Fugo gets closer to you by requesting your help planning missions.

most of the gang’s missions are planned by Fugo himself. while he is a college dropout, he still spent hundreds of hours studying Italian history and law. he can be trusted to help the escort team avoid law enforcement.

but there was one job he couldn’t wrap his head around. it was a breaking-and-entering mission meant for Bucciarati and Narancia. they were supposed to cross through an Armani outlet, yet... the security was fool proof. there was no way to cleanly get through it, even with Bucciarati’s Sticky Fingers. that was when you came in and proved him wrong. ↳ “[Name], would you mind helping me with this next mission? it’s a reconnaissance job for Abbacchio.”

he started coming to you whenever he felt stuck. you’re one of the few people he trusts with a task as important as this one. besides, you’d already proved that you were more than capable to untangle tough situations.

working with you is a mixed bag, though. sure, you help Fugo resolve his questions, but you make him feel so... small. it’s not that you do it on purpose. it’s just that being smart is all that he has. it’s all he’s ever known. and here you come, making these problems seem like they were nothing.

yet he can’t get enough of you. you don’t make it seem like these things are a big deal. he loves when you place your hand on his arm and praise him when he figures it out himself. god, he hates that he can’t look you in the eye; he can only imagine how lovely you look when you’re glowing.

there’s one moment that will stick with you forever. it was an infiltration mission meant for the whole team, the eleventh job you’d worked on with him. it took hours of back-and-forth bantering, Fugo having to leave the room to go scream outside, and one of Narancia’s awful energy drinks until Fugo figured it out. and when he did, you’ll never forget how he was beaming, his fingers laced with yours as he thanked you for your help. it’s too bad it didn’t last that long, for he quickly became embarrassed and turned away. ↳ “[Name]! I have another mission to work on with you! when are you free?”

Fugo saw you as his planning partner after that occurrence. he came to you with every mission he received; after all, he needs you to make sure that there aren’t any holes. he wants to chase every high he can with you. hell, every low if you’ll let him. he wants to do everything and more with you.

[mashedpotittiess]

Arrangements Ch 1

Title: Arrangements. Chapter Title: It’s just a little crush.

Pairing: Lim Sejun x Reader. Mentions of Choi Byungchan and non mentions of Do Hanse, Heo Chan, Kang Seungsik, Han Seungwoo and Jun Subin as well as OC’s.

Summary: He was the aggravating fuckboy roommate of your best friends but maybe that’s what caused you to agree to such an arrangement. But will the arrangement work out? Between mutual friends, his other hookups and a certain romantic interest on your part, this could all be trouble.

Words: 6,500

Rating: PG13 but will eventually become M

Genre for this Chapter: College! au, Angst.

Tags/Warnings: Drinking, Mentions of sexual scenarios, mentions of possible drug use (a roofie), Mentions of someone possibly wanting to take advantage of someone (While Nothing happens I need to put this as a warning as it can trigger some past experiences readers have had)

Fic Series inspired Playlist Link:

Taglist: @a-mess-of-fandoms @dnyad

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You hated Lim Sejun and his band of one night stands. Before anybody assumes it’s a case of “oh she has it bad for him and she’s just jealous” you were in no way into him like that and in no way jealous of the Grey haired man you dubbed ‘FookBoi’ nor his female companions. He simply cramped your style.

When he moved into your best friends apartment as a third roommate you thought you’d have the same dynamic with your friends that you had had for about a year before his sudden appearance. But you were sorely mistaken.

It was Friday night and you had your body sprawled over the deep grey fabric of the couch with your sock covered feet lying on your best friend Do Hanses blanket covered lap. Byungchan had occupied the black leather like single seat to your right and you all were currently debating on whether or not twins were creepy. The debate brought to you by you all watching The Shining once again.

“How could you even think twins are creepy? It’s clearly just the matching outfits with the head tilting that eludes to the creepy factor” you were thrown into a fit of laughter as Hanse imitated the twin’s expression when Johnny first saw them, his lip ring glinting in the soft shadows of the single lit lamp to his right. Byungchans dimples were on full display as he couldn’t help but laugh as well. You really did try not to blush at his adorable face. You had a thing for one of your best friends and you couldn’t help it, your small crush had existed for around 8 months are you knew it was a matter of time before it was known.

You were admiring his soft contours of his face down to his defined jawline and back up to lip plump lips curled upward around his teeth as his focus was still on Hanses face when the front door slammed open causing you three to jump in surprise. Hanse grabbed your feet as if to use your unicorn print covered appendages to shield himself from the big scary monster he assumed had not only come through his front door but also used a key.

As you tore your gaze away from the man you had been admiring you looked up to see Lim Sejun walking passed the back of the couch with some blonde traipsing her body on his ebony leather jacket covered shoulder. He threw you a smirk as he had undoubtedly witnessed your admiration for his roommate. “Enjoy your movie” was all that left his lips before you heard a woman’s giggle and the closing of his door followed by a hard thump.

Pulling your feet back to your body you crossed your soft cotton short covered legs and snatched a fist full of buttery salty popcorn from the shared bowl in the center of the dark wooden coffee table situated in front of you. Hanse pulled the off white blanket closer to his body and used a black nail polish covered finger to press play on your movie. As you took another bite full of popcorn your munching was cut short by a woman moaning a loud “Unngh yes Daddy” Choking on the salty kernels your face took on a sour expression and you turned to see Hanse grimace and Byungchan blush a bright crimson followed by a shake of his head.

The sounds of what started as a soft mumbling were turning into a shrieking of sorts causing you and your best friends to stand up together and make a beeline to Hanses bedroom. You all knew it would be no use to higher the television to try and drown out the sounds of pleasure the two people in the room next to the living room were feeling. Clutching your beloved popcorn and fizzy coke you settled yourself in the middle of the light blue jersey sheet covered bed. Hanse with the fuzzy blanket from the living room took up the space to your right and Byungchan settled himself on your left, his long legs sprawled out, his green and yellow parakeet printed socks causing you to smile softly.

With a few clicks of the remote the movie had been ready to be continued but before you could immerse yourself into the infamous “Redrum” scene, Hanse decided to look you straight in the eyes and with an obnoxiously loud screech he let out a “ HOOOYAH D A D D Y.” His eyes rolling back into his skull. Fake gagging you shook your head and slapped his tattoo covered shoulder over his thin tank top. “I fucking hate you sometimes.”

Curling yourself into your oversized hoodie you got comfortable with both of your best friends, settling yourselves once again into weekly movie night. As the movie played you were brought back to what had just happened in the living room. While this certainly wasn’t the first time your plans were ruined by Mr ‘Fookboi’ himself, it still irked you. You knew this wasn’t your apartment and you had no say what happened around here but you missed the fun times you three had had without the possibility of hearing ridiculously loud sex take over the three bedroom apartment at any time of the day or night.

Hell, before Sejun moved in, the boys had shared an apartment with a man named Seungsik. He was genuinely nice and even joined in for a couple of your movie nights. It was peaceful and the only loud banging happened in the apartment was when Hanse attempted to make cookies and the clanging of pots and pans that most certainly weren’t used in baking resounded throughout the shared space. But that peace was cut short when Seungsik accepted a study abroad opportunity and Sejun occupied his space.

You spent about 4 days out of the week here and you swore there was a new female face that accompanied Sejun almost every one of those days for the passed six months that he had been living here. You were in no way sex shaming him as you believed everyone can do whatever they wanted with their own bodies but his choice in woman was sometimes infuriating. They held no respect that this was a shared apartment and it showed.

From the Brunette last week who had walked around in nothing but a towel while you helped Hanse study for his Psych midterm to the Blonde the week prior that you caught using YOUR purple toothbrush that you had left in one of the two bathrooms for nights you slept over. Like who the fuck uses a toothbrush that isn’t theirs? As you had taken in her party dress which you assumed she had been wearing earlier in the night when she followed Sejun to his room passing you and Byungchan grimacing over Hanses attempt at baking  muffins, covered frame and her makeup smudged eyes, your eyes narrowed in on your toothbrush between her pink stained lips.

“Excuse me, that’s my toothbrush” you said with a grimace on your face as she leaned down to spit the toothpaste that had been sloshing in her mouth into the sink, the white fluid making its way down the drain. “hmm? oh here” was all she replied before placing the toothbrush in your palm. It still had toothpaste on it and it took everything in you to not throw the toothbrush at her and go full on hulk mode.

Then there was the Red head a few days ago that you knew as Cynthia from your shared Calculus class. You had been making dinner for your best friends that had been having a difficult school week. Walking into the apartment with the the bags full of groceries using your key the boys had given you, you set the canvas bags onto the white counter before organizing them into piles of what needed to be made in order from first to last. Pulling together the pots and pans you needed your thoughts were interrupted by a high pitched whine and the sounds of a bed thumping against a wall. Glancing towards the door you saw what appeared to be a woman’s taupe coat. Shaking your head you let out a disgusted ‘gross’ and pulled up your Spotify playlist hoping it would drown out some of the sounds coming from the occupied bedroom.

Throwing the tomatoes and onions into a pan you let them sauté until they were caramelized and got started on putting together the garlic butter for the fresh baked french bread you scored at the grocery store. Grooving to your music, you went along with your chopping of vegetables for the salad followed by dumping a box of penne into the salted water you had prepared. Spreading the herby garlic spread onto the soft doughy bread you plopped it into the oven and checked your pasta.

‘Buss it Buss it Buss it Buss it’ came through the speaker of your phone and you let your body do a little twerk as you plated the penne a la vodka, salad and finally the warm garlic bread fresh from the oven, turning around you checked to make sure everything was turned off and grabbed your phone to check the time. “They should be home soon” you mused and poured yourself a glass of ice water. ’Is you FUCKIN’ yelling the fuckin part you wiggled your hips as you sipped your water and turned around when the sound of crunching put a halt in your boppin.

Your jaw twitched as you took in the Red head leaning against the island counter with a piece of garlic bread between her smeared lipstick covered lips. The smell of roasted garlic and tomato sauce hung in the air as you stepped towards the female eating the food you had just made.

“That food isn’t for you, you do know it’s rude to just eat what someone else had made without asking right?” you furrowed your brows at her and extended a hand towards the rest of what you had plated up. Leaning her head against her left palm she licked her lips clean of what looked like breadcrumbs and smiled. “Aww, were you making a meal for Sejunnie? if so, I can assure you this won’t get him into your pants, not when he has a lady like me right here. But it’s cute that you tried.” Opening your mouth ready to ask her what the literal fuck she was talking about, Cynthia moved her elbow along the counter followed by a ‘oops’ and a shrug of her shoulder.

Looking down at the tray that had skidded across the wooden floor when her elbow knocked down your garlic bread just milliseconds ago you let out an annoyed “are you fucking kidding me?” Looking unaffected, Cynthia shrug her pale pink covered shoulders at you and licked her index finger of what looked like garlic butter. Leaning down with a bend of your knees you started to pile the bread you now had to throw out onto the faux marble tray that balances itself in your left hand. You grit your teeth stopping yourself from saying much else knowing that it wouldn’t do a thing. Knees knocking against the floor as you reached for a piece that had gone under the counter, before you could grasp it between your deep purple nail polished fingers, a pale hand reached out and placed it down onto your tray.

Looking up your eyes met Sejuns light grey contact covered gaze and you shook your head head towards the woman he had just been fucking. “Some company you keep” you mumbled to him before standing up, lavender slipper covered feet coming into contact with the dark wooden floor. As the door clicked open you were met with an enthusiastic“y/n did you cook? your’e the BEST.” Hanse stepped through the threshold of the open plan kitchen and took in the scene. You with a tray of what looked like garlic bread, a furious gaze in your eyes, Sejun with his hand extended towards you and a red head smacking her lips along a napkin.

“Um what happened?” left Hanses lips as you tossed the food that had been in your hand into the trash and got to work looking for the swiffer they kept in a linen closet close to the kitchen. Your ears picked up on what sounded like Sejun saying out a soft yet firm “I called you an uber, they’re here already” followed by a sickeningly sweet “But Sejunnie we could spend more time together.” Rolling your eyes you entered the kitchen once again and wiped the wet wipe along the grease covered floor. “Domestic, cute” Looking up you stepped towards the red haired female ready to throw hands. You were beyond tired of her shit and weren’t going to take anymore. She fucked with food, precious FOOD.

“I told you to leave already” Sejun grabbed Cynthias elbow and guided her towards the front door. “But, ugh fine. Call me later?” she asked and he just shrugged his shoulder while walking her to the elevator.

Angrily throwing the swiffer pad into the trash you thrust the mop to Hanse to put away and bounded to the sink to wash your hands. “I fucking can’t stand people like her, Sejun needs to filter out the bitches from his list of hookups. I swear to god dealing with someone like her is not worth getting your dick wet.” You shouted and Hanse pat your back.

Byungchan’s soft head of hair leaning on your shoulder brought you back to reality and you sighed shaking the thoughts of Sejuns hookups out of your mind to focus on the movie that was almost finished. Looking to your left you smiled softly at the dimpled boys sleeping face. Hanse shifted on you right to pull his blanket closer to his body.

While Hanse was still awake you knew it would be a few minutes before he completely passed out like the sweetheart to your left had. Sitting up carefully you leaned Byungchans head onto a pillow and brought the comforter up his body while Hanse curled into himself mumbling a “you can sleep here or take Channies bed.” Shaking your head you let him know you’d be taking the couch as you tucked the bowl of kernels under your arm and balanced two glasses between your fingers of your fight hand as you maneuvered your way out of his room and to the kitchen. The soft lighting over the stove illuminated your trek to the kitchen and you spotted Sejun in a pair of joggers and an oversized pale blue t shirt sipping a glass of what looked like water.

Moving passed him you dumped the remnants of the kernels into the trash and carefully plopped the dishes into the sink to his right. To your left his eyes followed your movements as you cleaned up. “I’m sleeping on the couch so if you’re going for round two with whatever her name is, please keep it down.” you grumbled without looking at him and you made your way to the couch you had spent many a nights on. From the open kitchen you heard him shift as he placed the glass he had been drinking out of into the sink. “She left already, goodnight y/n” he responded and walked the few steps to his room, his door softly closing behind him and you shut your eyes, pulling the blue blanket that had been on the end of Hanses bed and you had snatched, closer to your body letting sleep overtake your tired brain.

The smell of sizzling bacon and warm butter invading your nostrils sending your senses in an uproar and your body to slowly open your eyes. Sitting up you still clutched the blanket you had been using tight around your body in a makeshift cocoon. Gaze scanning the kitchen behind the couch you were sitting on you watched as Sejun joked with Hanse while preparing the bacon that was sizzling in the pan below him. Hanse was mixing up more pancake batter and Byungchan was finishing a flip on the duo of cakes bubbling up in the pan he had been working with.

You could almost curse your stomach as an obscenely loud grumbled was heard in the open space causing all three boys to turn around and take in your messy bun that more like a turd flopping atop your head and your mascara slightly smudged under your eyes. Raising your left hand into what looked like a small wave you heard Hanse laugh loudly causing you to smile. “The Princess is awake” with a stern look in your eyes his smiled widened “I forgot y/n hates being called Princess, EHEM my queen.” Standing up you stretched your arms over your head and arched your back hearing the muscles pop from lying in the same position for too long.

Trudging towards the bathroom, you abandoned the blanket on the kitchen island on your way there. As you took in in your appearance in the bathroom mirror while you let the water warm you shrugged. Your best friends had seen you look a lot worse.

As you smoothed the foaming cleanser onto your hands and over your face you let out a soft sigh in content. Reaching into the cabinet under the sink you pulled your small body of makeup remover you had stashed there and massaged it onto your eyes to cleanly remove any remnants of eye makeup. Letting the warm water rinse your face of all impurities you got to work on bushing your teeth with your N E W purple toothbrush.

Letting your hair loose from its turd like confines, you softly ran what you knew as Hanses brush over your locks and shuffled back into the kitchen after your bathroom escapades were done with.

Tucking your hair behind your ears you poured yourself a glass of cold OJ and watched as the men finished with their Gordan Ramsey like cosplay of cooking. Giggling to yourself as the visual of Gordan Ramseys face on your friends bodies overtook you.

When you noticed the boys were just about done preparing the food you pulled plates from the cabinet and paired them with silverware for all four persons. A comfortable silence surrounding the room as you all piled your plates with food and made your way to the dining table to the left of the kitchen.

“Thanks for the food” you smiled out while cutting into your fluffy pancakes earning a wide from Hanse, a smile from Byungchan and a nod of your welcome from Sejun. Plopping a piece into your mouth you almost moaned at the warm syrupy goodness that coated your tongue, you could take the vanilla Hanses flavored the cakes with.

For the most part you all had ate in silence with the exception of Sejun and Byungchan talking about the college Basketball team Byungchan was on.

You had offered to do the dishes in repayment for the delicious breakfast the boys had cooked up and joined in on the conversation that took place in the living room when you had finished. Settling yourself on the cushion next to Hanse you let him ruffle your hair and leaned your head on his shoulder.

Hanse was like the brother you never had, you had known him since your first year of college, you small body nervous as all hell when you walked into your first Literature class of the year. Sitting next to you he had struck up a conversation when he took in the crescent moon earring dangling from your double helix piercing on your right ear.

From then on you all had become great friends, you had liked the same music and enjoyed some of the same aesthetics. A couple of months later you all had stumbled upon Byungchan at a frat party and a conversation about Liquor vs Beer ensued in the comfort of the lit kitchen. Before you knew it you all had drug your asses to waffle house for 4am food to nourish your alcohol filled bodies. You both becoming fast friends with the tall teddybear of a man.

A year later and the two men rented an apartment together inspired by the fact that you had been living in an apartment with your roommate since the middle of your freshman year. They had invited you to be their third roommate but you were on a multi-year lease and to be honest, you didn’t mind your roommate. You loved your friends but you liked being able to come home when you needed alone time or just girl time. Lately you had been spending more time at your best friends house due to your roommate having her boyfriend over a lot more before he graduated later this year and you wanted to give them alone time.

Musing to yourself on how grateful you were for their friendship you took in the effortless conversation between all three men. You knew they had been friends with Sejun for sometimes prior to him moving in but you hadn’t really taken in how friendly they were all with each other. You had to admit it put the moving mattress of a man in a new light.

“Favorite Nirvana song..3..2…1.” Hanse blurted out. All together four answers were heard at once “Lithium” you heard Hanse shout which you had already known. “All Apologies” Byungchan smiled and “Come as you are!” you and to your surprise Sejun yelled at once. “oof we have a tie.” Hanse said followed by a “Okay, okay.. Favorite BEYONCE song 3…2…1”

“Wait wait, Beyonce solo or Destinys Child included cause that’s a whole other convo” you added in before anybody could answer before taking a sip of your ice water and roaming your feet into the blanket you had been using. “Solo Beyonce” Hanse answered before shouting his countdown once again.

“Crazy in love OG version” Hanse shouted, “Formation” was Byungchans answer. “Irreplaceable” Sejun answered while tilting his head onto his palm with his elbow resting on the arm of the couch to your left. “If I were a boy” you smiled at the lyrics invading your thoughts. “But seriously Yonce is a fucking icon and you can’t just pick one song, that’s like ILLEGAL!” you added which earned claps from your best friends and a genuine smile from Sejun causing you to cock an eyebrow at his dimples cheeks.

The familiar ding of your phone signaled a text and you entered your password into the drive while vaguely listening to what the three men were talking about. Sending a message in reply to your friend and classmate Haley you tossed your phone back onto the coffee table in front of you and leaned back onto the comfy cushions behind you. “Oh shit y/n I almost forgot! Heo Chan’s frat is having a party tonight and i’m making you come with” The inky haired man to your right said with a clap of his hands, his rings clanking against each other. “Oddly enough that’s what Haley was texting me about and I already agreed to go with her since i’m obviously the best wingman ever. I also love how you weren’t planning on giving me a choice on going.”

“I wasn’t giving you a choice because I knew you couldn’t say no to this face” with a pucker of his pink lips, Hanse folded his fingers under his chin leaning closer to your face in a mock pout. Rolling your eyes you flick his slightly exposed forehead with a painted index finger. “Yeah yeah yeah.”

“Byungchannies going too and I think Sejun may show up too” Hanse added and you nodded. You knew Byungchan would go, with him being good friends with Chan and Seungwoo from Lambda Tau Nu or VTN for short. Sejun going came as no shock to you either knowing the amount of girls that would be wanting him to go with them and of course leave with them as well.

Checking the time on your apple watch linked onto your wrist with its black leather strap, you stood up throwing the blanket that kept your legs warm onto Hanses lap and grabbed your phone while looking for your slippers you had worn there. It was a little passed two in the afternoon and you knew you need to go home, shower and then later prep for the party. “Imma head out to freshen up, see you later. Hanse you picking me up?” with an of course heaving your best friends mouth you left the comfort of the three mens apartment and heading off to your own.

Smoothing your warm vanilla and rose body oil over your freshly shaven legs you checked your phone noting you had a little over an hour to finish getting ready before Hanse and byungchan would be pounding on your door. You had just finished pulling your black satin bra and panty set when your doorbell sounded off. Wrapping your fluffy white robe close to your body you opened the door to a smiling Haley who was carrying what you presumed to be her “getting ready shit” and a bottle of Svedka.

“Pre game sweets” she said when she caught you glancing down to the bottle clutched between her fingers. With a slight smile and a shake of your head, you both headed towards your room to finish getting ready.

Checking her ass in the mirror, Haley gave a little booty jiggle in her skin tight taupe body con dress that accentuated her deep mocha colored skin. You had just finished styling your straight hair with some silkening gloss when Hanses called signaling them leaving their apartment and heading towards yours. Sliding your feet into your black suede high heeled ankle booties you smacked your medium toned nude lipstick covered lips and followed Haley into the kitchen.

When the boys got there Haley demanded a pre game shot and you all but obliged. With a slam of the clear shot glass onto the faux marble counter you all headed out, following Hanse to his small Silver SUV.

Pulling up to the long street of parked cars in front of the VTN house you shook your head at the seemingly already drunk couples making out in the bushes and a half naked guy running down the lawn with a V painted onto his chest in what looked like red lipstick.

Entering through the oak double doors behind Byungchan you squeezed his shoulder as he maneuvered you all through the crowded entrance. Settling on a quieter side of what you knew from a few parties here as the living room, Byungchan excused himself to bring you all some drinks and you surveyed the area you were in. A couple of kegs were a few feet to your left where some guy you recognized as Subin was performing a keg stand. The two couches and coffee table were pushed closer near a wall where the stairs leading to the second floor bedrooms was to make the makeshift dance floor where bodies were rhythmically shaking the hips. Behind you to your right was the brightly lit kitchen when bottles lined the counters and bags of chips were strewn everywhere.

As you surveyed the kitchen you noticed Byungchan talking to a girl you knew as Emi. Byunchans dimples were on full display as he laughed at whatever she had been saying causing a soft bloom of rose to flush onto her pale cheeks. Leaning down to stir her drink her light brown hair fell slightly over her face to which Byungchan leaned forward and swiped his fingers over her forehead and still blushing cheeks to tuck her shoulder length hair behind her right ear. Noticing your gaze, Hanse chimed in “Oooooooh is Channie finally making a move on Emi? He’s been into her for like a month now” Whipping your hair around towards the tattooed man your deep brown smokey eyeshadow covered eyes widened slightly.

“He what now? How did I not know about this?” Hanse furrowed his eyebrow at your seemingly upset look and Haley cleared her throat. Haley had been the only person who knew about your crush on your friend from a night of one too many Vodka Tonics and Tequila shots. “I only knew about it cause I caught him shooting her google eyes and I asked him what was up until he fessed up.. why do you look? wait..y/n did you?” With a tick of your jaw you shook you head pleading with him not to continue his question.

“Since when?” was all he asked and you softly told him the answer. “But it’s fine, I honestly didn’t think much would come from it. I wasn’t sure how our friendship and the dynamic would work if we ever got together” You ran your thumb along the hem of your black and deep green plaid skirt. “It’s for the best, I’m glad he looks happy.” you were being honest, you wanted your friends to be happy and that’s all that had mattered to you. Yes you were a little heart broken but it was better than him finding out about your crush and you getting rejected then, or you all getting together then later breaking up and you losing one of your best friends and Hanse being stuck in the middle of his two best friends.

With an are you sure? Hanse headed off to the kitchen when you nodded your head and sighed. “God you’re such a good person babe, I would’ve been like ‘HELL NO IM NOT OKAY I AM A HEARTBROKEN WOMAN ON THE VERGE OF A MELTDOWN’” Haley whisper screamed into your ear and you felt yourself smiling at her over dramatic theater kid self.

“Ugh Chan looks so good” biting her deep fuchsia colored lips Haley wiggled her eyebrows and you shook your head. You knew she was staring at his ass in those tight light wash jeans as he talked to Hanse and Byingchan in the kitchen.

“Oh shit he’s coming over here” Fluffing her black shoulder length curled hair Haley pushed her boobs out by straitening her back causing you to giggle and accept the drink Hanse handed you. “Hey Haley hey y/n” Chan smiled causing adorable dimples to grace his cheeks. ‘Do all these men have dimples or what?’ you thought and shook your head slightly.

With a hello and a thank you for invited us you let Haley grab all of Chans attention with a conversation about Musicals. Hanse caught on to what you were doing and stepped further away from the two, taking you with him.

You had been talking to Hanse about Haley and Chan when Byungchan stepped in front of you both with Emi right behind him. “Hey guys, this is Emi” Hanse smiled and gave her a little wave. Suppressing your urge to be jealous and petty you took a deep breath and nodded towards her “Hi” leaving your lips. As Byunghcan talked to you both about how sweet Emi was and how they had been talking but it hadn’t been anything serious, you gripped your glass in your right hand and tilted your head back drinking all of its contents in one go. The familiar warm burn of alcohol siding down your throat and distracting you from Byuns dimples as he spoke so highly of the female clutching onto his right arm.

Taking in the girls pale blue satin liken dress and beige sweater handing off of her arms you had to admit she seemed nice, very demure and soft spoken but nice. “You’re so pretty, Byungchan didn’t do you justice when he told me about his best friends” Emi genuinely smiled at you and you thanked her. Needing a refill of your drink you excused yourself and headed towards the kitchen.

Setting your glass on the counter you got to work mixing Rum and a splash of coke. Taking your first sip you nodded and hummed at the taste. If you were going to deal with your crush and best friend finding a girlfriend you definitely needed something strong. Taking another sip you leaned your hip against the counters and slowly moved your head in a circle to relieve the tension you had been building up. You felt your body starting to heat up from the amount of bodies in the house and the alcohol flowing freely through your veins as you finished your second drink with a long chug.

Shrugging your oversized medium blue denim jacket off of your shoulder you looked for a suitable place to hide it from partygoers. Situating your jacket behind bottles of soap under the sink you made a note on your phone letting you know where you hide it in case you forgot and needed to retrieve it the next day.

Pouring yourself another drink you capped the Rum when you were done and sighed as the breeze from the overhead vent licked against your skin in your black crop top and plaid skirt. “Damn, now that’s a drink” came from your left causing your to look up with an arch of one of your eyebrows. Liam Martinez stood in front of you with a smile of his pearly whites and you couldn’t help but smile back. You recognized the Wide Receiver of your college football as you shared a literary course with him. You actually also shared that class with Sejun as well.

“Want one?” you asked with a smile to which he shifted closer to you and handed you his red cup. “Yes ma’am” you opened the same bottle you had been using and started pouring it into his glass, followed by a splash of the open coke to your right. Scooping a bit of ice from the bag in the sink into his glass you handed it back to him which he accepted gratefully.

“So, what’re you doing here? or better question, why are you drinking alone in a kitchen full of bottles?” Leaning your hip against the counter you quirked you lip slightly over you glass. “Well if anybody was drinking wouldn’t it be better to drink in a room full of bottles?” Chuckling at your retort Liam placed a hand on the counter and sipped his drink waiting for you to continue. “But if you must know, I finished my drink my friend made me and came to make another, plus they were having a convo I didn’t really feel like being a part of” you let the last bit slip out with a shrug of your shoulders.

With a ‘hmm’ in acknowledgment you two started a pretty nice conversation about your shared class and the frat house you were currently in which Liam had been a part of. Feeling the buzz flowing through your body you accepted his offer when he asked you to dance.

With your hand tucked into his you made your way to the dance floor and wrapped your arms around his neck as the music thumped around you. Settling his hands on your hips he pulled you closer to him, swaying your bodies to rhythm of the bass. Under the soft lights in the dark living room Liams light brown hair shined. Liams hands trailed up and down your hips, eventually turning you around pulling your back into his white t shirt and blue plaid covered chest feeling his muscles rippling against your back.

Leaning your head back onto his chest you ground your hips back into his and smirked. The alcohol coursing through your veins lending confidence to your dance moves as your began to grind with him in the middle of the other swaying dance partners crowding the space.

Another song came to a finish and you felt your body heating up tremendously. With a huff of air escaping your parted semi glossy lips, you knew you needed water and as Liams fingers grazed up your left thigh you excused yourself telling him you’d be right back but he had insisted on going with you.

Reaching the kitchen you looked for a clean empty cup to be the vessel that you needed to quench your thirst and hopefully cool your body down. Liam handed you an opaque red cup from the stack of downturned cups and you poured yourself some water from the fridge and took a long sip relishing in the fresh cool liquid cooling your body down and causing a small shiver.

“Hey can you pass me a coke from the fridge?” The taller man in font of you asked as you were closer to the fridge than he was and you nodded thinking nothing of it. Opening the metal fridge you looked around on the middle shelf before your eyes landed on the signature red cans, plucking one from the shelf you turned and stepped your way back to Liam, handing it to him which caused him to smile his pearly whites in return.

“Hold on, did he just drop something in y/ns glass?” Hanse voiced out while putting a black nail polished hand up in a stop motion after his eyes had zeroed in on the man in question drop something that looked like a small white circular pill into your drink. Earlier in the night Sejun had been talking to Hanse when they both noticed you dancing with Liam, he couldn’t quite place where he knew him from but after Hanse voiced what he had just seen, he remembered a girl he had hooked up with a couple of weeks ago said that after she had hooked up with Liam about a week prior. She had been looking for her shorts and found what looked like roofies on the floor in a bag under his bed. Sejun had asked why she didn’t report him to which she just shrugged and said Liam hadn’t done anything to her and she wasn’t sure that’s what they were so she wasn’t going to start trouble.

With a narrow of his eyes he peeled Tashas hand from around his torso and bounded off into the kitchen following Hanses fast steps towards your figure holding a red cup smiling up towards the tall figure in front of you.

——————————————

ANNNND chapter 1 is done! I’m going to try to update this pic every week but i can’t make any promises as i’m also writing a Jungkook Magic/au fic series.

I hope you enjoyed the read and pls let me know of any errors you come across as this is partially unedited and i don’t have a Beta reader or anything of the sort. ILY

-C/Potittiess

[attllhak]

Warriors bodydoubling for Artemis? Full story pleae, if you can?

I'm going to assume this is the same anon and answer them at the same time. Also, I don't know if this is in reference to the brief mention of it in A Change In Fate, or if someone ran across a few old asks I sent Tortilla about the fic I'm writing that's just an excuse to put Warriors in drag, but either way yes, you are probably sending these to the right person.

So, my main thought process with Warriors acting as a body double for Artemis was actually that I'd seen someone else with that thought and I thought 'Oh that's cool'. And then I realized that, compared to other Links and Zeldas, they look very, very similar. Plus, Warriors is the kind of guy who'd be willing to wear dresses without any sort of shame.

So, the story is that at some point during the war Artemis in particular ended up being specifically targeted. Probably Cia being jealous, but it also only seemed to be certain troops doing the targeting. So, they could just have Zelda act as Sheik until this died down, but also it's not like Zelda could just disappear again. The enemy forces know Zelda was found, and no one would believe they'd let her disappear again.

Artemis is the one who has the idea, though Warriors was very quickly on board. They were very careful to make sure Sheik and 'Zelda' were never in the same place at the same time, and Warriors spent enough time as himself that no one figured it out. Well, no one other than Impa, who mostly just ended up tired and resigned, since it was working. Artemis is still very proud of herself for this idea.

As for disguise magic, I don't think Artemis uses it. Artemis isn't a particularly well-endowed woman based on her model (most Zeldas aren't), and she didn't change her skin or hair colour as Sheik. At most she put in red contacts, or the magic equivalent. I have a few sports bras that make me look pretty flat-chested, so I imagine she's just using one of those. Even then, Sheik in HW is never referred to with gendered pronouns. Sheik isn't referred to with pronouns at all, actually, as far as I can tell, only described as 'a mysterious youth'. I've taken to using they/them pronouns for this Sheik as a result. It's OoT's Sheik that was actively attempting to be seen as a man, I think Artemis was just going for 'Not Zelda'. Lullaby might use that magic for when she's Sheik, but I don't think Artemis does. (I also am in the 'make Lullaby dark skinned' camp so there's also that.)

For that reason, I don't think Warriors would be using magic to make himself look more like a woman. You'd actually be surprised how much a bit of makeup can make you look different, and considering how much Warriors already looks like Artemis it wouldn't take much to make them look even more identical. Pitch his voice up a bit to sound more feminine, and either pick dresses that sat higher on the chest or do some contouring on his chest, and you don't really need magic to make Warriors the spitting image of Artemis. (And yes, people do sometimes contour their chests. Cosplayers do it sometimes when doing a character with a larger chest than theirs. Also drag queens.) He'd need a wig or some good extensions, but after that it's just outfit choice and makeup.

[hopeshoodie]

Part 7 of my Pros and Cons of dating the different islanders (yes I’m finally coming back to this :P) 

Gary

Cons

He doesn’t have a whole lot of thoughts about things that he’s not actively excited or annoyed by, and he doesn’t really feign interest. If MC buys a new top, or is invested in a new show, or anything that Gary doesn’t really care about, he’ll really disinterestedly say “that’s cool babe,” and make her feel like it’s unimportant. He’s not patronizing/embarrassing her on purpose, he just doesn’t have a lot of tact. You would have to really talk to him and work with him to get him out of this habit, because he doesn’t see how it’s hurtful or care that much to change.

He gets really defensive. If you call him out on his behavior or point out how he’s really stubborn, he’ll argue with you without really considering if his behavior is bad. Arguments with Gary suck because it gets to a point where he’s not hearing you and will just say “whatever” and refuse to engage. The best way to change Gary’s behavior is some pavlovian shit- you need to offer positive reinforcement without him really noticing. When he communicates really well, shower him with affection. When he picks up after himself, tell him how much you appreciate it. 

He’s very willing to walk away from things that challenge him instead of trying to grow as a person. We saw that with him and Lottie- whenever she or MC offered valid criticism of his behavior he would just walk away. That applies to most areas of his life- if he tries a new hobby and isn’t good at it immediately he’ll drop it. He doesn’t really like trying new things or going to new places, and if something challenges his worldview he’s more likely to ignore it than engage.

I’ve said this already but he buys MC heart shaped jewelry and pandora charm bracelets...

Gary’s a lad. While he doesn’t intend to hurt anyone’s feelings, he never really engaged with social justice issues and he hasn’t done the work needed to be anti-racist. He’ll laugh along to sexist, racist, homophobic, and ableist jokes without really thinking about the implication. He’s loath to call anyone out. If MC points out ‘hey that thing you/your friend said is hurtful,” he’ll get defensive and say “why are you ruining a good time? It was just a joke” If MC sits down and explains to him how the things he says are actively hurting her, he’ll internalize that and not do it. But he’s really hesitant to say the same to other people- he doesn’t want to ‘ruin the mood’ and get made fun of for being ‘PC’. 

Gary’s super dense. He doesn’t really pick up hints very well, so MC needs to explicitly tell him “I need you to compliment this dress” or “we haven’t gone on a proper date in awhile and I’m feeling undesired, can we go out for dinner tomorrow?” I firmly believe that the reason Gary tolerated all of Lottie’s passive aggressiveness was because he didn’t pick up on it, so MC needs to be direct. 

He doesn’t appreciate all the effort it takes to get all dolled up, even though he loves it when MC goes all out. I know he SAYS he doesn’t like high maintenance women, but in canon when given the choice between Hannah (seemingly low maintenance) and Marisol (very outgoing and done up), he chooses the higher-maintenance option. Every woman he dated on the show was a glam kind of girl- MC, Lottie, Marisol. So while he loves when MC has a full face and outfit done, he complains about how long it takes her and how she always sneaks away for touch ups during the night. He’s one of those dudes who is like “wow you’re so pretty without makeup” but you’re literally wearing foundation, contour, eyeshadow, eyeliner, mascara, blush- he thinks the difference between makeup and not wearing any makeup is red lipstick. This is super annoying because MC puts a lot of effort into her look only for him to downplay that effort but still enjoy the results. 

Building off of the above, Gary severely underestimates how much effort it takes to do “domestic work” like cooking, cleaning, and administrating for the household (I imagine pre-MC he forgets to do the basics like renew licenses, register to vote, schedule appointments, etc). So if MC points out how she spent the whole day cleaning, he’ll be like “that seems a bit much? You just cleaned the kitchen?” and doesn’t really get it until MC breaks down “I swept and washed the floor, I disinfected the dishwasher, I ran cleaners through the sink link, I cleaned out and organized the fridge, I dusted and sanitized the chandelier, I organized the spice drawer,  I wiped out the cabinets…” He’s not really motivated to learn how to clean or do laundry or cook.

He doesn’t communicate. This is canon- he doesn’t tell Lottie where his head is at in the game, he strings Lottie and Hannah along, and he doesn’t reassure MC when other girls are clearly cracking on with him. So most of the problems in a relationship with Gary come from MC not knowing what he wants and him never initiating emotionally vulnerable conversations. 

He’s not going to do well if MC needs to travel a lot for work, and he’s not going to move to live with her. Even after his nan dies, I don’t see him leaving Chatham. So if moving to a new place is important to you, this is a dealbreaker.

Pros

If something goes really wrong, he’ll never do the same thing twice. This applies to physical mistakes as well as emotional- if he forgets to wear eye protection and gets sawdust in his eyes, he’ll be religious about wearing glasses from them on. If he forgets a birthday or anniversary and makes MC cry, he will be SO diligent from then on about remembering dates. On that thought, he HATES seeing MC cry. He will move heavens and earth to stop whatever’s upsetting her or fix it. 

Hugs and cuddling from Gary? So comforting. He just has that vibe, like he’s a really good cuddler. Not to mention that he’s really good at the nasty in canon, so it would stand to reason………

All of that internalized masculinity has an upside- he wants to take care of his family. He’s on top of all the ‘masculine’ caretaking stuff like buying a home, maintaining the landscaping, fixing the tires on the vehicles, shoveling, fixing stuff up around the house, managing the cable/internet/tech. Which is nice because I hate doing those things, but also I’m absolutely teaching him how to do laundry and pick up after himself. 

Gary is SO calm in emergency situations. I have this headcanon for Rahim too, but the more panicked those around them get, the calmer they are. Especially in situations where they’ve prepared/considered before like tornadoes or floods. They’re not the kind of guys who take the lead normally, but in these super dire situations they find it in them to take over and calm everyone else down. I can see him having a lowkey stockpile of food, an emergency first aid kit, and a go-bag. 

I know people don’t like this headcanon, but too bad. Gary is catholic. That’s the law. Sorry I don’t make the rules. That’s not so much of a pro for me, an atheist nihilist lesbian, but I can recognize a religious man has a certain amount of charm. He has a close knit community, is super consistent about attending services, and has a certain level of taking morals really seriously. He definitely donates a fair bit to charity and is always the one saying “love thy neighbor” when people are being shitty. 

Gary’s spontaneous, but in a controlled way. He very much likes his routine and respects MC’s need for consistency. But periodically he’ll just be like “we have nothing planned for today- want to go rent a paddleboat?” or he’ll pick up flowers “just because”. If MC and he are going on a vacation, he much prefers to only plan 1 or 2 things to do a day and then once they’re in the place see interesting things and suggest ‘let’s do that’. He’ll do really thoughtful stuff like text MC if she has anything planned for dinner then randomly bring her favorite restaurant food home. Thursday nights are date nights!! Doing formal ‘dress up nice and go to a proper dinner date without the kids and movie’ is really important to him.

Gary’s a really good dad. Like yeah he has a lot to learn about not telling his son to ‘stop crying’ and not telling his daughter ‘no boys until you’re married’, but he genuinely wants the best for them. He’s really supportive of their hobbies/sports/interests, and will happily pay for summer camp/field trips/conventions. He might not ‘get it’ all the time, but he’ll smile and nod. 

He gets a lot of delight out of really little things. If his kid draws something for him, he’ll pin it to the fridge and smile at it every time he sees it without fail. If MC says she likes a certain shirt on him, he’ll triple the amount of times he wears it. He keeps the bird feeders outside their dining room window full, because he can happily sit with a cup of coffee and watch the birds for hours. It truly is the little things.

He’s really good at remembering MC’s favorite things, or even things she mentioned liking once. This is to the point where it’s a bit confusing. MC will compliment Gary’s nan on her christmas poinsettias one year, then two years later Gary buys a ton of poinsettias and is like “I thought you loved poinsettias” and not be able to remember why he thought that. So MC has to be careful with fake compliments, because Gary cannot tell the difference. But that’s still, like, super endearing and nice of him. 

There’s a few LIs that I feel like could get bored in a long-term relationship. I can see Lucas, Felix, and Rahim feeling like they’re ‘falling out of love’ when the intensity of a new relationship fades and they struggle to settle into domesticity. Gary is NOT one of them. He’s one of those “I fall in love with you more every single day” kind of guys. As MC gains weight/ages, he’ll insist “you age like a fine wine” and “I like you more with meat on your bones”. He’ll insist to their kids that “your mom is the most beautiful woman on earth”. Gary was built for long-term relationships.

[quinn-tessence]

Paint me like one of your French girls

Part 2

This goes out to all the artists in this heart warming Joker community, who still find so much inspiration in our beloved character. Thank you for sharing with us how you see Arthur/Joker through your eyes, your creative vision brings so much joy and comfort through these troubling times! 🙏🤡❤

Summary: you accept Joker's invitation against your better judgement, even after he'd broken into your home and caught you red handed. His rhetoric makes you fall into his degraded sense of civic duty. So does his sly but chivalrous demeanor, a different shade of the Arthur you used to know. You're in for a revelation that seals the deal.

Length: 7k ish, gradual build up

Warnings: a touch of Theodore Twombly, splashes of Arthur and heavy strokes of Joker, mentions of mental conditions, flirty fluff, oh smut, yes, yes, keep readin'

As his scent still lingered, the yellow street lights engulfed the room as you stood naked at the window, facing the portrait you'd painted. Maybe it had only been the light reflecting off its surface, but you could have sworn it was looking right through you.

Did this really happen? You thought to yourself as you stepped down from your high, hoping this had not just been one more of your self induced vivid fantasies. But the flammable cocktail he'd left lingering in your studio was a stark reminder.

Arthur had come at last, even if one year late, but it had been Joker breathing down your neck, intoxicating you with whispers of your most ardent desires. A butterfly in the path of a flame you were, the attraction to him primal, insatiable, frightening. Was this really Arthur? He was surely the Clown Prince of Crime, and that was not something sweet Arthur could have maneuvered while pumping himself full of antidepressants.

‘I'd put my mouth on you’ resounded against your temples, his purring whispers a delicious catalyst for a continuous pulsating sensation throughout the night. 'Cause that's how I imagine you every night' had been the least expected confession, had he lied to just get you hooked, he'd been successful. As you tried to drift away, you'd force yourself to resist the urge and keep yourself untouched for him. Agonizing as that was, how he'd stirred the embers in your mind had made any of your attempts futile. No substitute would do.

Tick, tock. You hadn't heard your bedside clock ticking for years, but today it was thumping, a metronome to steady your breath as you woke. The only sensible action was to take charge and keep yourself busy. He was going to get what he wanted, clearly he had made the alternative impossible with his mischievous schemes. But he had been thinking of you all night as well, and that was one aspect up to be exploited.

A few minutes to 9 PM, a pinup doll you'd never seen before was staring right back at you in the mirror. His spine tingling whispers had made you work on yourself on commission. He had one demand and it was up to you to fill up the rest of the canvas to impress.

The street was empty as you walked out on the dot. Swiftly, 3 SUVs pulled up in front of your alley, and your heart leapt to your throat.

Here comes the devil. Dashing. Elegant. Ravishing in that pristine makeup, green eyes piercing your whole body as he swaggered closer, his body ambling, almost floating on air. Your art made him no justice compared to the original. Any shades of color you might have painted before would pale in comparison to how they contoured him in the flesh, and the makeup uneven, yet always perfect. Smoke fuming from his mouth, his heels screeched the pavement as if to warn you danger is nearing, yet your knees grew weaker with each step he took.

He was… just as slim as you remembered, but somehow a bit taller. Instead of Arthur’s timorous gazes, a devilish smirk crowned his beautiful jawline enough to make you forget even your name. You couldn't help but wonder why the dress as his gaze systematically reduced any fabric covering your skin to irrelevance. The emerald green eyes had already made you whimper in silence, this wasn't going to get any easier.

‘Hi Y/N. Glad you decided to come tonight.’ An eyebrow twitch accompanied his words as a much needed release from hypnosis.

‘Hi, Joker. Not sure if I had a choice in accepting your invitation.’ An unmistakable vibration in your voice immediately made his deep, long dimples contour his well defined face. The sexiest dimples you'd ever seen in a man, you were certain.

‘Of course you did. You had one week to consider, and here you are. I must admit, you are your finest work of art so far. Is all of this for me?’

‘I have a date later and I thought I’d dress to impress. The fella seemed to have some serious intentions.' The thump of your heartbeat could easily be heard by his armed men keeping watch. Thankfully, they minded their business.

‘What a lucky fella. He'd better, or else I know a few guys who can straighten him up'

An eyebrow twitch followed by a tongue in cheek chuckle, he tried to distract your noticing by running a hand through his slick green hair, but his shy gaze fell to his feet. Hi, Arthur…

‘In this case, we'd better be on our way before we get all of us in trouble. A couple precautions before we go. I'll need to wrap this around your eyes to protect the location we're headed to. It'll be a 30 minutes drive. Sadly, I’ll have to jump in another car, for both our protection. If anything happens on the road, I’ll be the main target and my guys are sworn to keep you safe. But we took care of a few things and Gotham should be teeming with crime tonight, enough for us to have a safe journey. Are you ready?’ his hand extended, your primary instincts shameless traitors. As you touched his fingertips, you went all in.

You both hopped into one SUV, his proximity to you nerve wrecking, the warmth of his slender body radiating against your prickled skin. The way he had been staring into your eyes for a few seconds was making you question reality. Shutting your eyes as he wrapped his tie around them didn't help clear the waters.

‘Tell me if it's too tight.’

‘Wouldn't that be the point? Don't untighten it.’

‘Miss Y/L/N... Here you are, blindfolded in the backseat of my SUV, about to drive off with Gotham's most wanted. Knowing your inner circle, I’d have wagered they'd advise you to keep better company. Good thing I’m not a betting man.’

‘Well, a certain gentleman had made a promise last night, if I remember correctly'

‘Indeed he had. I'm not going to hurt you'

‘That was not the promise...' you forced the corners of your mouth to not betray your titillating reaction.

‘Wasn't it?’

An endearing giggle helped cut the tension in your core, but you gently startled at the feel of his fingers caressing your cheek and rushing over your lower lip, the ever present smell of nicotine flooding your nostrils, the lack of eyesight heightening your other senses. Somehow he made this feel like a dream.

‘See you soon'

A 30 minute drive with only the voice of Frank. Thoughtful touch, making you feel close to home even while venturing into a world of batshit crazy. Blindfolding you might have been for protection, but it served another more tantalizing purpose. And processed you did, but not at all did it help with the anxiety. If anything, Joker had poured gasoline on the bonfire he had started the night before.

The cars stopped and the door opened, your hand touched softly, you were descending from the car and carefully directed forward by his arms. You’d been right about his scent, and it drove you mad as he helped you watch your step.

‘Open your eyes'

The venue, a vineyard outside Gotham, with a manor and view of the lake. Breathtakingly elegant and conveniently out of police jurisdiction. A coquette set up on the front terrace in an open space foyer, the breeze rustling the flowers that dangled from it. As beautiful a venue, in reality he was still the center piece of this canvas, the white streaks of makeup, his green hair, the contrasts of his suit, that never ending cigarette. Unethical, dangerous, beautiful. What was he doing to you?

‘Welcome to my summer retreat. Glad you decided to join me, miss Y/L/N.’ He pulled a chair for you, elegantly inviting you to sit.

‘If we’re so intimately acquainted, why are you calling me by my last name?’

‘I like the taste of it on my lips. I like kitten more, but you know, pleasantries and all.’

He'd called you that before. Arthur was there, but Joker was clearly behind that lewd smirk and tantalizing choice of words. Tingles started running up your thighs without warning, in sync with the rhythm of his cues.

‘Pleasantries are for strangers'

‘Oh! Well then. We already see eye to eye' the clicking of glass betrayed a slight tremor in his hands as he poured a little more wine than necessary.

‘Cheers, thank you for having me here. How could I decline the invitation?’

‘I didn't know if you'd accept the invite one year later.’

‘And yet you took the risk'

‘How could I not be intrigued by the artist who paints me as a primary subject? You can imagine my surprise when I found out you were the same Y/N from the pharmacy queue. Why did you move out?’ As gallant as he was, he sure knew how to cut straight to the point.

‘I... I wasn't in a good place, I needed to uproot myself. So I quit the force, moved out, became a full time artist and painted my view of the world. That gives me fulfillment, I had been searching for it in the wrong place, I guess.’

‘Can’t argue with that. Fascinating. Tell me more.’

‘How far back should I go that you don't already know?’ His eyes moved away for a second, then returned with an intensity to freeze one's bones to the core.

‘It would mean so much more if I heard it from your lips rather than my trusted informants’. ’

That sweet white wine was a dangerous catalyst to unleash to him your widest smile, comforted by the verified honesty of his stories and his sharing of turmoil at the world. He'd also been an artist, although his conditions had been a detriment to his success in a comedy career, and support for him nonexistent at best.

You were just as fluent in Arthur's tragic life as he was in your tumultuous one. You’d been reduced to tears in your late nights when processing his fall into madness and how helpless he had been. All alone. That utter feeling of pain and grief had fueled your inspiration through all those months. But now the makeup made him look younger, the furrows of life less visible on his skin, that deep sorrow hidden under a thick layer of overconfidence, and if that was what he wanted to show you tonight, the last thing you'd do was force him otherwise.

A couple hours flew within minutes, the food half nibbled, his elbows on the table, his eyes every shade of the sea amidst a storm, devouring your every twitch as you spoke. Each time you'd meet them, he'd watch you languidly, dissecting your every reaction, the corner of his mouth slowly arching his dimples into existence. You had already sunk deeply in the sight of him chuckling and occasionally strolling his delicate long fingers through his green locks. He was so real and close to the touch, his presence so electrifying, it gave you fever.

And yet he made you feel comfortable. It had been a long time since a man had done so well and so naturally, you had forgotten how sweet the shivers were. And here was Arthur, that once shy, flustering man, igniting fire after fire in your gut with each elegant note of his voice and moves of his slender body. You couldn’t tell if the spark in his eye was his, or a reflection of your flaming self.

‘My turn to share?’

‘Yeah maybe I should stop talking for a while now, sorry, I got a bit carried away.’

‘Nonsense. You're my guest, why would I have brought you here if I didn't want to hear your stories?’

‘Well if you insist, I could think up a few reasons… aaand here I go, I’m so sorry, that was a bad joke, I swear it's the wine speaking…', your hand went straight to your face in a desperate attempt to hide your tipsy embarrassment.

Typical of you to screw this up, atta girl, you thought to yourself, feeling how your cheeks had turned the color of your dress. You weren't lying, the wine had had a woozing effect, but you were drunk on him instead. As you shyly lifted your eyes, a hungry wolf was lurking beneath the painted blue diamonds, eyes as deep as an ocean, eyebrows creasing his forehead in long, deep wrinkles. It wasn't fair how the red razor sharp grin cut through his cheeks like furrows, his crooked teeth exposed enough to make you bite your lip in shame of your sassy comment.

‘That's… one description, but not the one I’d choose… When you come out from under there, I have a surprise for you. Come with me inside for a minute.’

That red dress suddenly shrunk tightly on your chest, the fabric a suffocating shroud for your skin. Guided through the gliding doors, an elegant galley of your work hung against a red brick wall. You felt a knot in your throat, your eyes watering.

‘This part of the house is my little sanctuary. Where I come to spend time with you, with how you see me through your eyes. I started collecting those the minute I felt alive through your art, immortal, legendary. You’re fueling my ego, you know?’

This was more of a shock than a surprise. A shock at your naivety than at his right to purchase your public art. He had kept all your thank you cards, even if you'd thought you'd written them for different clients. He called them your letters. They were to him, and about him, so he found it appropriate. Was this just incredibly romantic, or was it the schizoid paranoia from his official diagnosis?

Right then, the realization finally struck, and it struck with the sound of a thousand church bells between your temples. You’d shared such intimacy with him for months, and he’d been financing your bohemian lifestyle since you’d left the force. This was his big night, just as much as yours, it was clear as you looked into his eyes to see sweet Arthur from the pharmacy line. Yet his shy gaze betrayed anything but an expectation to cash in that cheque. You were ignoring all the red flags again, the rush of emotion rendering you incapable of clear thought.

And yet, your body was yearning to shed its covers and unravel your latest masterpiece to absorb his reaction through every pore, but you gave into your superficially cautious thoughts. As he stood next to you in admiration, he lit a cigarette and passed it over after puffing almost halfway. You’d never thought the sight of red marks on a cigarette would be the catalyst to set you ablaze in your choice of men, but you'd been ironically wrong. The very close presence of this clown felt nothing like fear and anxiety, even more so as he was fidgeting so sweetly. An adorable irrational fear of a possible rejection had kept a never ending cigarette between his lips, and your heart coiled at seeing a painted Arthur before you.

‘I hope you don't mind. If a fire broke out tomorrow I'd save these first. You saw me when I needed to be seen, and the way I needed to be seen. Your art is breathtaking. Nothing humbles me as admiring it.’

You felt as light as a feather as his hand extended once again, and carried you back to the foyer to pour the last glass of wine.

‘I gotta be honest with you, kitten. I’m not an easy guy to be around. My mind is a twisted place, and past treatments were … debilitating, to say the least. Fate took me off those by force, just to feel much better afterwards, ironically. I switched my treatment for a couple conditions in the meantime. You see, having difficulty distinguishing reality from imagination could be quite inconvenient in my line of business. Else, I'd be back in Arkham by now.’

For a deranged criminal, he was exquisitely refined. His posture, his attire, the cigarette between his fingers were radioactive. This deceitfully feeble man had once bashed in the brains of a man twice his size with a pair of scissors and a wall, the police records had been detailed enough to make your stomach churn. His slim, delicate body was a dangerous trap for those who questioned his ferocity and agility coupled with his multiple mental conditions. The 3 Wall Street guys had had no idea what a catalyst they were about to be. And yet, here he was. Delicate and gentle, maybe even vulnerable.

‘Back? Why back?’ you asked despite knowing every little detail.

‘Not an easily digestible subject, I’m sure you'd agree. That's a conversation for another time, but here I am, flesh and blood, thinking as clearly as daybreak. In most aspects.’

That wine must have had no effect on him, as he continued to control the conversation, steering it with refinement, clearly more cautious than yourself.

‘What aspects are not clear?’

‘Is this an interrogation, kitten?’ his wide gaze from under long eyelashes coupled with the pet name off his lips were utterly debilitating.

‘Not at all, I am intrigued. Please tell me more'

‘If the lady insists. What’s unclear? Well some minor details. Like my future, my life, the next target, evading the police, you.’ His emeralds confidently strolled along the lines of your face, particularly the curve of your lips. Not at all distracting.

‘I can understand the others, but me?’

‘You see me for who I want to be. I’m not always Joker, that's for my men, my criminal nightlife. You knew me before all this, and you paint that man wearing this Joker outfit. Sometimes I wish it were so, but most times I am convinced that it must be otherwise.’

He swallowed hard and emptied his glass.

‘So you see how your artistic depiction of me is what I want to see when I look in the mirror, not what they say on TV. It's kept me from going too far, it gives me a level of restraint that this Joker makeup laughs at, and I really prefer that to any straight jacket. I like this new man I’ve become, but I can't allow him to overwhelm the old me. Whomever that was.’

As he spoke, there was a sweet sadness to his voice that proceeded to melt you from the inside, furthering the utterly irresponsible, delicious plunge. He was forcing himself to smile even through the most painful truths, like a tic developed through years of practice, but his voice faltered here and there, trying to stifle his bouncing knee. All you wanted was to cup his cheek and caress him through the anxiety that had been crippling the body of both his whole life. He reached out for another cigarette before you could fulfill that thought.

‘I… am flattered, to say the least. I wasn't sure what to expect of tonight, but I will have another glass of wine, please. If there's any left in this beautiful vineyard.’

‘Coming right up!’

He danced nimbly into the kitchen, Sinatra serenading an audience of hanging grapes and the two of you.

Impressed was an understatement. Where was that psychopathic, vicious killer clown that all the headlines had been about for the past year, that your friends had tried to warn you of? Joker had been a gentleman so far, none of his known crimes had tainted that opinion of him, not even Murray to be quite frank. He wasn't half as ruthless as he had been demonized to be. How he spoke so caringly about his men, they were not just his goons, he trusted them, and they trusted him. This didn't make your coming here any wiser, not in the eyes of society. But your mind was already made up.

He soon returned with a new bottle, poured a glass and extended his hand.

‘Voulez vous danser avec moi, mademoiselle?’ That pristine makeup and red suit molded him into the most alluring devil coming to claim you. Speaking in French had sealed the deal.

‘Biensur, monsieur.’

Strolling you across the terrace on The Way You Look Tonight, leaning you onto his chest, his palm on the small of your back, gently intrusive. The warmth of his body engulfed yours, his cheek on your temple, he had you craving for a heavy dose. He was such a good dancer, you felt like a feather in his delicate arms as he turned you a few times then leaned you backwards to lift your thigh in a shy attempt to test your responsiveness. The innocence of his smile quickly altered into curiosity as his fingers brushed over your garter. A glimmering spark coated his devilish eyes and an eyebrow twitch marked the epitome of nonverbal cues.

‘Where did you learn French?’

‘From old movies on the telly. Unfortunately, my extensive knowledge of French will end here. I'd always fall asleep through the romantic dancing, so I don't know what comes next.’

‘What a terrible waste of a beautiful evening that would be…’

‘It would… But I've also prepared for tonight, kitten, in many ways.’ You whirled at his directive once again.

‘You did indeed. I appreciate the effort.’

‘Hah, I’m sure you do…' he chuckled to himself mischievously. 'I know I am putting you in an awfully strange position by being here and showing you all this. I'd like to know you're comfortable, all things considered. I wouldn't want to overwhelm you.’

‘Yes, how thoughtful indeed. Especially after how you left me last night.’

‘Ohhh yes, I did that, didn’t I?’

‘My dating rulebook had a few pages torn out, so I had to skip a couple chapters in my preparation. Perhaps you could fill me in on the content of those missing pages…’

He hadn't expected you to make the first move, the surprise in his eyes at seeing you instinctively biting your lip was palpable, but the tension in your core had overstepped any boundaries.

‘… I wouldn't want to drag you down. I'll catch up. What page are you on right now?’

As you spoke, you were dancing him inside the mansion, towards the main art room. Tantalizing him, your lips grazing over his, locking eye contact intensely, then shying away. His intrigue at your little game etched a smirk across his face, his fingers sinking into the flesh of your waist, very gently contouring the girdle holding your stockings.

‘I have an advanced edition. The page that cautions against wearing lace for a long time.’

‘Lace?… oh. Ohhh! I see! Yeah, I remember that. In the missing pages, they strongly advised removing all other clothes for easier access to the lace…'

Your back sensually turned to him, his fingers lowered your back zipper, the feel of burning wet lips on your neck snatched a deep moan from yours as a hum vibrated against your ear. In a swift second, you were in his arms being carried in front of his gallery, and as soon as the stilettos touched the ground, your dress was framing your ankles at his careful directive.

‘Oh... The advanced edition must have a copy of my journal in the writers' room’ his eyes gleaming, he took a step back to revel in the sight of his freshly lace garnished gallery.

‘Not really. Seeing how you wrapped me up in a tight bow, I found another way of adding a… touch… of myself.’

A wide grin across his face, he was visibly panting. His hands straight to the top of his teal shirt in a desperate attempt to get some fresh air. The light emanated from the frames of his portraits contoured your body as he approached with careful steps, as if a predator stalked its prey, strolling hungry eyes all over your curves.

‘And here I was, thinking I’d seen the best of you yesterday. Look at you… you're worth every damn risk in the book. Tell me, have you been a good girl last night?’

He slowly ascended the 3 steps leading to the art wall where you stood in your unholy red lace lingerie, stockings hanging from your girdle insolently. Your pedestal, that was. Colin was right, reality beats fiction every god damn time. If he only knew.

‘I clearly haven't. I should have called the cops on you. Yet you break in and rake me up with your mischievous whispers, you make me dress up for you and bring me here, to all this, and then claim you don't want to overwhelm me. You're acting like a gentleman but you're really a sneaky bastard, aren't you?’

Shamefully you put all the blame for your descent into his madness on him, as if you’d taken no part in this tantalizing game. In his ascent, he had gained the advantage right back, towering over you in all his colorful splendor. In that very moment, he knew you were his. The corners of his mouth arched so intensely that no amount of makeup could cover Arthur's arousing wrinkles any longer. He knew very well that he was the devil coming to claim what was his, and his gentle demeanor had shifted drastically to reflect that and scorch you. His inquisitive eyes onto the soft edges of the red brassiere, his tongue strolling over his lips lusciously, you were soon humming to yourself.

‘I… I am about to fuck you into next month. I hope you cancelled your plans, pussycat.’

His bluntness made it clear that Arthur had left you at the mercy of this clown, yet every atom of your body craved him.

‘How gallant… What about your criminal activities?’

‘I'm taking a small vacation. My men will shake things up enough to keep your buddies doing overtime. As for being a gentleman, I’m done with that for tonight.’

‘What if I say no?’

‘I made sure you wouldn't do that last night’

The moment you felt his ragged breath against your skin, you melted away in his arms, like gold in a fire pit. You gave in completely to his hungry lips trembling as he kissed you, his whole body as tense as a string, savoring you with heavy gulps. The intensity of his grip, the weight of his body, the shivers in his flesh betrayed the end of a painful anticipation that he'd yearned for. The bitterness of his makeup was the first shock, the second was his body weight heavy against you, the third the most unnerving, ohhh la la! If one lit a match you'd both combust in flames.

‘How about we skip the pleasantries, mm?’ he whispered in between heavy gulps of you, far from asking for permission.

The taste of his mouth, a mélange of cigarettes, wine, bitter makeup, each flavor made your limits become optional. Lace was suddenly no longer a threat for your breasts, as his fingers bared your chest for his delight, quickly followed by his painted thin lips. Something about him made you feel like a dangerous woman. Devouring you whole, shoulders, neck, breasts, his makeup brushed faded color tracing his steps, little moans escaping his throat at the taste of your skin. To your left, a full gallery of your ardent attempts to bring him back. You’d been afraid for so long to articulate your feelings for him even to yourself, always denying the possible realization of this moment. But his warm tongue strolling along your navel was a check mate to your insecurities, and now your body was his canvas, painting you in shades of Joker.

As he got on his knees, you felt yours would weaken in an instant, the heels of your stilettos working their way to penetrate yours.

‘I think we should take the advice in the rulebook and avoid exposure to lace for too long, don't you?’ his nimble fingers removed the lace panties and his tongue invaded your core before you could object. As if.

Fuck yesss… you exhaled a touch too loudly.

‘Oh dear, where are your manners, young lady?’ as if he wasn't speaking with a mouthful.

The sight of his green hair falling over the red jacket, his wide eyes pinned on yours, his mouth gobbling at you had been your usual suspects for the past year. But you'd imagined Arthur under the makeup, and these darkened eyes betrayed another beast altogether, a hungry, voracious beast. A surprisingly crafty one, within seconds he'd made you purr uncontrollably.

An outpour of sensation washed over you, body and mind together feeling so sensual and wanted, he was controlling your body with his tongue even as he knelt before you. You’d been intoxicated by the smell of cologne, cigarette and faint gasoline, your finger tips tracing the freshly applied white makeup and green dye on his temples. Soon enough, the slick bastard was maneuvering your clit, exposing and tasting it to his own pleasure. For a second, he moaned as he lost himself in your folds, the sounds of him enjoying what he was doing to you made you pulsate on his tongue. He'd rattled you down to your heels, you were panting so hard you were afraid you would tumble.

‘Joker… I’m gonna fall…’

‘Now now… let me finish this first, then you can fall for me, kitten.’

It hadn't even crossed your mind to make that connection, but you were once again red-handed. You couldn't help but let out a silly school girl giggle as he got up and lifted you in his arms, so much stronger than his slim complexion let see, carrying you to the large sofa, gently laying you in a corner.

‘Is this better?’

Your eyes the size of two full moons, you nodded.

‘Keep those devils on, will you?’ winking at the red soles of the Louboutins you'd chosen for the occasion. You nodded once more with beggar eyes.

‘The taste of you… mmm how I’ve yearned for it… I wasn't joking about your cancelled plans. Don't say you weren't warned' he whispered as he kissed you, his taste and yours mingled on his lips were an aphrodisiac. You nodded obediently one last time.

Kneeling once again between your thighs, he proceeded to unbutton his vest, then his shirt, yet maintaining eye contact. Damn, that new treatment must have been making miracles. You had never been intimate with Arthur before, but you couldn't miss that it was Joker in between your thighs. You’d be shamelessly lying if you said you didn't want him to take you just like this, a painted, deranged clown that had been stalking you for months, the danger an essential part of the thrill.

As he bared his chest, a deep purple covered part of his left ribcage underneath the teal shirt, his nightlife trade in violence etched onto his body, causing you to frown with genuine concern. That must have been why he seemed to flinch and change course at the thought of baring his body to you. In his own time.

You trembled as his warm breath spread over your clit, sinking his tongue in whatever he'd made of you already. The intense eye contact would be enough stimulant to answer your burning curiosities, but he had his to satisfy. Savoring each slurp, he was masterfully tensing you up like a guitar string ready to pop at the next twirl, and those diamonds around his eyes only served to plunge you into the ferocity of his curious gazes. You were a ball of ache to feel his flesh slither inside you, tongue, fingers, cock. The thirst you’d felt for him for so long was strikingly visible in your quivering body and four octave moans, his palms strolling across the red lace all the way up to your breasts. How insatiable he was in his exploration, each touch a stronger confirmation that you were really, finally his.

A soft stroke of his tongue over his lips yanked you out of any distraction, an uncontrolled twitch of your knees betraying a futile instinct of self preservation. Your reflexes had been off by around a year, though. You whined and moaned and shivered under his velvet lips as he strolled them down your breasts, your ribs, your belly button, feeling the jolts in your body and reveling in them as he hummed. Each kiss he carefully peppered onto your prickled skin sent you into a maddening spiral, your core a backdraft aching for him to extinguish. How ironic. You had grown up petrified of those nightmares of a dreadful clown chasing you down to eat you whole. Who would have thought these terrors would develop into consuming yearnings 20 years later?

The high that came with his virtuosity made the fabric of reality feel hazy, your fingers tangled in his green hair an anchor to the real world, where it seemed as if your body had been designed for him to unlock. With each feathery stroke he'd have you yearning for more, contorting in lust as he tasted you for his own pleasure. Your fingers on his white temple, he seemed intrigued by the beggar look staring right at him, so he buried his tongue deeper.

‘This tastes exactly how I imagined it…’

This hungry wolf kept on controlling your whole body through his tongue, slurping each drop of pleasure he brought. The narcissist in him was feeding off each reaction he ignited, reveling in the fact that he was the cause of all this hot mess, and you were falling like rain on a scorching mid summer day.

‘You rascal... Is this your MO, you threaten your prey 24 hours before the inevitable?’

‘I usually take ‘em by surprise'

Fire and ice collided in your core into an outwash of sensation and your eyes drowned in the back of your head as he gentry filled you up with one finger ‘Ohh… right there…’. It was too much to bear as his tongue played with your flushed bud and his finger stroke at your deepest well of intense pleasure. Never would you have thought Arthur capable of pleasuring a woman so exquisitely, but here he was, proving you wrong in the most delicious way you'd never imagined.

He was an artist after all, a nimble dancer who was born with music in his veins. And what is dancing than making love set to music? How he constantly drained you of every drop of pleasure with his skillful tongue, as if he'd finally found his vocation. The tenderness of his touches betrayed a long lasting want for you in his arms, a haunting want that he'd finally captured and was now close enough to taste.

‘Oh God, this is too good, please keep going' your voice had turned into beseeching cries.

‘Yeah?’

‘Yes, please…’

‘Mmm… Right here?’

‘Y… yes… don't stop please', the words poured out as if coming from the sweetest place of ecstasy, the beggar look and pulsating muscles a dead giveaway.

‘Come for me, pussycat, and look at me as you do...’

His command to come for him tipped you off the edge instantly, he had released the hold on the leaning rollercoaster, his tongue twirling and stroking your flushed bud. His piercing eyes gleamed as your skin went aflame and you combusted in his mouth harder than you’d ever had before. Your mind was devoid of thought as you let yourself sink into his fervent caresses. He held you down as you bucked and convulsed in blissful agony pinned onto his finger, he sank his nose and tongue into your cunt, prideful for making you come so soon. You felt flushed, ravaged, trembling from all joints, your eyes in the back of your head unable to contain their fluttering any longer. His starved frenzy had eased into careful strokes with a soft tongue, comforting you through the dwindling climax.

‘Whoa, hello there, pussycat… how I love hearing you purr like this for me’

He climbed up to you gently, the widest, proudest grin imaginable etched on his face as he smacked his lips. The lower half was smudged enough for his mouth to be visible under a glistening coat of you, and there it was. The scar that you'd specifically left out of the composite sketch. It was very old, a part of him, his face branded uniquely. As much as the clown costume spewed fire down your spine, you so badly wanted to see Arthur without it once again.

‘Joker…’

‘Yeah?’

‘I'm gonna…’

‘Come again?’

His nimble fingers were skillfully riding you fast towards another orgasm, your core still highly sensitive after your first one.

‘That's it kitten, give this joker what he wants. You're so damn beautiful, I want all of you'

His savory whispers lifted you to your peak, then his lips kissed you through your implosive ecstasy as your whole body quivered under his. The taste of you on his lips should be his new cologne from then on. After he’d seeded those thoughts the night before, it wasn't at all surprising how your body overreacted to his touches. Murmuring softly in your ear, he slowly released the grip as you descended from the second high. Your palms caressed his jawline, the feel of paint covering his skin a contradiction you'd never felt before. But here he was, teaching you what you didn't know how.

‘There there, I’ll let go now'

‘No, don't, please. Give me more…' You begged, commanding respect as the highly virtuous, dignified lady you were in that moment.

His smile as wide as on Christmas morning, his eyebrows raised, a chuckle exulting his whole body, he clearly hadn't expected that reaction so soon. Cat's out of the bag now.

‘Well well well… Look at you beg!'

‘I didn't beg…!'

‘But you will'

You should have known better than falling into that again, but you were too distracted with unbuttoning his red pants and finding the real culprit for your sleepless nights. If you'd known Joker from so many accounts, this had not been in any police record. But boy, it should have been, you wouldn't have thinned your art exhibitions to avoid being found, what a ridiculous thing to do!

With a swift motion, he was already in between your thighs. Lowering his white briefs and positioning himself at your glistening entrance, he was massaging with the tip, testing your sensitivity. This surely wasn't the same gallant gentleman who'd wooed you so far, this was another animal who was toying with his food, and you had willingly stepped into his lair.

‘Is that a threat or a promise?’

His eyes squinted in the dim light, a smug smile to his ears and your whole body jolted at the feel of him entering you all the way down, groaning with eyes in the back of his head.

‘Knowing me, what’s the difference?’

You molded so well on him as he filled you up and some more, his arms locking you down for his pleasure. Careful and gentle at first, his knees deep in the couch the more he'd bury himself into you, his face immersed in your hair gulping your scent, his tongue nibbling your ear.

‘And now I’m inside you. All the way inside you', his hand caressing your jawline, shyly brushing over your gaping mouth before kissing you.

Releasing yourself to him had been the epitome of the most ardent desires clawing out of you progressively. You‘d craved each and every word he was whispering in your ear as he was having you. His size filled you all the way in, you must have been molded to him or else you could not fathom how you'd never felt so awash as you did with Joker. He was going there, working exquisitely to get his little prize again, and it was terrifying how familiar he had become with your sweet spot in under an hour. Perhaps you'd anticipated this moment for months on end that his slightest touch would just keep you hooked in a state of blissful tension. His slim body felt heavy over you, his sharp pelvis bones grinding against your inner thighs, his protruding ribs over yours.

And yet he was so beautiful, no other man had ever awakened such riveting feelings inside your gut so effortlessly. The amount of torment this man had felt throughout his life, and yet he was still capable of making you feel such heart warming bliss in his arms. As he'd wrapped you around him tight, his palm on your cheek, his forehead to yours, it was clear you weren't just tonight's fuck. He had longed for you, and you were finally his. And his you were.

‘I'd asked myself so many times why you kept painting me, and what would you think about when you did that… Am I on the right track?’

You were a broken record of enticing approvals, your mind and body in ecstatic agony. This was not the same man from Pogo's Comedy Club, or the same man on the police car for that matter. This man was phlegmatic, charismatic and gallant enough to be a dirty flirt, and so goddamn dashing in his suit and makeup. Everything about him was such a contradiction it was driving you rabid.

Getting plowed you screamed and panted heavily, your core soaking him whole. His strokes were taking you to the edge, had they been delicate so far, now they were progressively vicious as he heard you whimper. Your mind was a sweet void, a deep abyss of shivers and tingles shrouding you in free fall, your dry lips pleading him to keep going.

As he bit his lips, his facial features turned aggressive, his eyes dark with lust. You moaned as he laid you down and fucked you hard and deep, hitting your sweet spot rhythmically, your cries fuel to his ego. The sneaky bastard was grinning at the sight of his kitten crumbling under his pleasure, so damn proud of himself.

‘You've been thinking about this for a while, haven’t you?’

Your five senses were invaded by his forehead sweaty onto yours, his eyes a hypnotizing flood of green murky waters, the smell of ammonia and cigarettes filling your nostrils, his husky voice whispering softly as his cock rummaged your sweet spot.

‘You want to be my precious little slut doll, don't you? Come for me.’

Oh god… a new set of pleasure waves rushed through your flesh progressively. Something about the way he cursed sent you into a spiral, how it tipped you over into another outpour of muscle spasms. Under tight grips, he fucked you the way you needed to be fucked, fast and hard, without a pinch of mercy, his cock growing stronger under your spastic contractions, Arthur must have left the building completely. You slowly shed every ounce of ecstasy as he trailed his eyes down your body, his breath ragged, his voice purring little silent curses.

You're here, really here, you're mine, all mine, his voice whispered right before his sea green eyes disappeared in the back of his head and you felt a strong throb rushing through you as he spilled himself into you, shuddering, panting, gasping for air. His moans in pleasure were an aphrodisiac you’d never believed you'd get a taste of. But here it was, and all you wanted was to savor it at your discretion again and again.

As he descended from his high, his body felt heavy and his heart galloped against your chest, yet his lips still lingered on your skin, peppering it with red traces of himself. Joker had ousted the whole world from your senses, leaving only himself under your skin, his embrace the safest shelter for both.

‘If you only knew…’ he whispered as he lay his face to rest in the nuzzle of your neck ‘… just how many times I’ve played this in my head, kitten… If there's one good thing out of my condition, it's that my imagination can be blissfully vivid.’ His fingers deciphered your face gently, grabbling the warmth of the skin. ‘But every time I’d wake hopeful, you weren't there. And that's when it was most cruel and bitter…’The faltering of his voice played the piano tiles of an innocent, tormented concerto that filled the room despite the windy night.

‘But I am here now, Arthur'

‘You are… yes, you are…’

The sweetness of his soft lips deliciously covering your face until reaching your mouth, he'd been right when predicting your fall for him, and what a rhapsodic fall he'd triggered. The silence of his tight embrace said more than you'd ever dared hope for, but a playful hum lingered in his throat as the words murmured indelibly.

Someday when I’m awfully low, when the world is cold

I will feel a glow just thinking of you, and the way you look tonight

His husky voice gave you shivery prickles, and a chuckle escaped you remembering the direction of Sinatra's lyrics, what a master of anticipation Arthur had become.

*Knock knock*

Arthur's voice froze in an instant, your heart almost bursting into his palm, he placed a finger over your lips to shush you.

A voice with a British accent apologized for the intrusion and set your mind at ease, but had clearly set Arthur on edge. By his puzzled reaction, he had meant his promise of a vacation and an interruption couldn't be a good omen.

‘Ahhhh shit, Gary! He wouldn't bother unless it was important. Stay here, kitten, I'll be right back. COMING!'

Untangling himself from you proved difficult for both as he kissed your lips one last time while tucking himself back into his pants. You'd covered half your face with the first pillow to stifle your giggles as he stumbled putting his shoes on, seemingly willing to greet Gary with his lower face smudged in a most decadent mixture of you both.

‘Arthur… that suit won't cover the lower half of your face, you know?’

An eyebrow twitch stopped him in his haste to ponder at your hint, the realization of it spreading a most endearing smile of the night onto his face. Your heart coiled at his complicit chuckle of needing to put Joker back on as he'd forgotten him for a second.

Two minutes later he bowed gracefully, his makeup shamefully half applied over the initial mess.

‘Gary's my best man, he's seen worse of me. But what’s a valiant knight to do if not protect his sweet damsel's virtue?’

A wink and a quick peck on the lips, so comfortingly as if you'd known each other for ages, and off he went.

As he will, undoubtedly…

[princeanxious]

I'm havin a struggle and im gonna ramble about it under a cut:

[[MORE]]

Why is it so gosh dang hard to try and present as male with makeup on. I wanna wear rainbows and my punk monochromes, i wanna have eyeliner so thick and sharp it cuts!! I wanna have black lipstick so dark ive achieved the goth dream, be that damn-near monochromatic dark prince on some days and on others be the gayest lil sunshine prince I can be!! Because doing makeup good gives me enough confidence to want to show my hard work off to people and go outside w/o anxiety!!

But then I pull back from being close to the mirror and realize it utterly ruins my general presentation as a transman(/nb? I'm uh. Not sure abt that possible change atm. Still he/him though). I dont quite care about looking 'manly' or ultra masculine and boyish or however one puts it, but, it ssuckss. Like. It wouldnt be so hard if I could do contours and actually give my face masculine definition would it??(i mean, maybe not. Even then having cotton candy colors and flashy eyeliner still blurrs those lines huh)

But I cant contour. I'm babyfaced. I dont have cheekbones, my chin is a wobbly point, if i tried id literally make my face boxy looking(which. No. Nope. I'd legit look like minecraft steve)

Which is just like >:(( I can pull off the adrogenous thing sans my dramatic makeup choices, but the shape of my face + the full dramatic makeup I love doing just immediately triggers my brain's dysphoria. Not to mention I am a short king here, standing tall at 5'1 w/ a voice that cant raise very high lest it rise in pitch as well, which doesnt help at all w/ the misgendering

Because thats what I dont want to happen, is to be misgendered in public. Ya boi has a beanie w/ his pronouns, love wins, and anxiety pins. My day-to-day hoodie literally says "Sounds Gay I'm In" and 75% of my shirts are gay/trans pride/rainbow themed. I could literally not be more open abt being queer.(though at this point ima get/make a transflag patch and gaypride flag patch to sew onto the shoulders of that hoodie I fear its apparently not clear enough) and just like.

Hnng. Maybe, maybe this gay disaster of a trans prince wants other queers to approach him because he wants to find more of his people to talk to. because hes a bit of a lonely lil prince and is socially stunted and only knows how to make friends through projecting who he is/what he likes through his physical appearance/attire and is also a hopeless demiromantic gay who doesnt understand romance but desprately wants to???

Like hnng how do y'all do it?? ;; I just wanna come off as a gay lil confident prince & flirt with/befriend some fellow queer friends and I dont know how :((

[mirage-said-dumbass-rights]

A Helping Hand... er, Brush

Loba x Wraith. Wraith needs to put on makeup for a talk show interview, but has no idea how to do makeup. Fortunately, a certain lady notices, and lends her a hand. (1.2k words. @soulheartthewolf kept ya waitin huh?)

“Hnnnng… dammit!”

Wraith sighed, closing the makeup kit and resting her chin on her palms, staring at her face in the mirror. She honestly had no idea what she was doing.

Her eyeliner was smudged and sloppy, her eye shadow was overdone to say the least, the contour looked like it was done by a three year old trying to fingerpaint, and she had no idea how to make her eyebrows “pop” like the email asked. Not to mention the fact that she didn't even attempt to do the mascara. 

The only thing she knew how to handle with makeup was the primer and the foundation, but that was only because she had to, to be on camera for the games. Besides that, she knew next to nothing about makeup. Besides the fact that the new girl definitely knew her way around it…

“Having trouble, meu bem?” 

Right as she was thinking about her, Loba’s voice comes from behind her, getting louder little by little as she approaches. Wraith glanced at her, before looking back at the mirror. “Well, saying I’m struggling would be an understatement at best,” she confessed, “And a lie at worst.” 

“Aw, bebê…” Loba sighed, Wraith feeling her fingers going across her shoulder. She sat next to her, on the counter. "You aren't usually the makeup type. Are you going somewhere… fancy?" 

"It's for an interview," she answered quickly, trying to hide the frustration in her voice. "Talk show type thing. The email they sent specifically requested 'non-arena attire,' makeup included. And I know next to nothing about that." 

She grabbed a wet wipe, removing the botched attempt from her face as best she could. She then hung her head, sighing. The interview was only in a few hours, and she had no idea what to do… 

Loba hooked a finger under her chin, gently lifting her head up to face her. "Hmm…" She was almost scanning Wraith's face, thinking something up.

She blushed, not quite used to this kind of attention. It felt… weird, but… nice. "U-uhh, what are you…?" She stammered, Loba moving her head to look at all the angles of her face.

“Don’t move,” Loba ordered, going to her area. Wraith heard her moving things around, searching and mumbling, before a triumphant “Aha!” Loba reemerged, sauntering over like she usually did. She dropped a pretty big handbag on the counter, smirking. “Do you mind if I take a crack at it, amor?” 

Wraith seemed confused, looking between Loba and the bag, before settling on staring at Loba’s… gorgeous face. “...You… want to do my makeup for me?” 

“Of course…” She gently drags a finger along Wraith’s jaw, making her shudder. “I never want a girl to think she’s not worthy of the camera.”

Wraith blushed cutely, tearing her eyes away from Loba, but not her face. As to let Loba do her work, of course. “…Well… go ahead.”

Loba immediately got to work, pulling out… something, and gently dabbing it around her cheeks, forehead, nose, and under her eyes. She pulled out a brush, wiping around those same areas. “Once I’m done with you, I promise, the first question they’ll ask is who did your makeup.”

“…Loba… you really don’t need to do this,” Wraith mentioned, as Loba pulled out another brush. “Seriously. I’m sure they have a makeup artist-”

“Would you prefer highlighter, bronzer or blush?”

“…Huh?”

Loba pulled out three… discs with a color inside them, one a paler color, one pinkish, and one that was a darker color, but similar to the first. “Which one do you think would work the most with your skin?”

Wraith hesitated, before pointing to the first one. “That one, I… guess.”

Loba nodded, putting the other two away, and gently brushing some of it along her left cheek. “Amor, would you rather have a random person who’s never met you before attempt to make you beautiful, with no consideration for your input?” She switched to the other cheek. “Or someone who’s fought alongside you in battle, who knows your strengths and weaknesses, your personality, and who does understand that you have an opinion?”

Wraith paused, blushing a little, not quite expecting this level of… intimacy, even from Loba. “…I… well… I’d prefer the latter.”

“Exactly,” Loba responded. She proceeded to pull out a palette of various colors that Wraith recognized as eyeshadow. “Do you want purple or red?” 

She pointed her eyeshadow brush at a bright red, which definitely wouldn’t work, and at a darker purple… that kinda reminded her of the void. “Uhh… the purple,” she responded.

“Good choice,” Loba smiled. “Close your eyes.”

Wraith did, and she couldn’t help but think of how intimate this all was. Loba was standing over her, so close to her face, having full control of the situation… but still making an effort to be gentle with her. It felt… nice.

“And now for the eyeshadow…” Loba mused. 

She didn’t remember a time when someone was this close to her, being so careful not to hurt her… until something came to mind. A flash, a memory of the labs. The scientists experimenting on her. But they didn’t treat her like a person. To them, she was nothing but a test subject. Their fragile little guinea pig, not to be harmed, but only because they wanted to keep their sick little experiments going… 

She snapped out of it when she felt Loba gently shaking her shoulder, Wraith opening her eyes. “Is everything alright, amor?” She asked, concerned. “Your hear… breathing was quicker than usual.”

“…Y-yeah,” Wraith replied, taking a deep breath. “…Uhh… anything else?”

Loba visibly relaxed, with a gentle smile, pulling out a couple more things. “Mmhmm. Your lips.”

“Oh… duh.”

Loba giggled, ordering her to, “Hold still. This is harder than you might think.”

Wraith did as asked, holding still. Loba gently pressed something to her upper lip, then to the lower one. “Now, the most important aspect of any look…” Loba mumbled, Wraith hearing her unscrew some tubes of lipstick. She then showed her three colors of lipstick, a light purple, a teal, and a dark purple that was a similar shade to the eyeshadow. “Thoughts?” 

She paused. The dark purple would look nice, but the light would be a nice contrast to the eyeshadow… “I think… I think the light purple would look better,” she answered.

Loba nodded, gently pressing it to her lips, applying a layer or two, before pulling back, and putting everything back. She looked back at Wraith’s face one last time, admiring her work with a smile on her face. “Want to see the finished product, amor?”

After a moment, Wraith nodded, sitting up and looking at the mirror. What she found made her jaw drop, with a murmured “Holy shit…”

It was gorgeous. The eyeshadow looked like the night sky, her lips had a perfect purple to compliment her eyes, her cheeks seemed like they were glowing, and she somehow didn’t notice Loba making her mascara and eyebrows absolutely perfect. She almost didn’t recognize herself, it was so good.

“Are you happy with that, beautiful?” Loba casually wrapped an arm around her shoulders, making Wraith blush slightly. 

“It’s… I-it’s perfect,” She stuttered, looking down in embarrassment, before looking up at her. “Th… thanks.”

Loba smiled, patting her on the back. “They’re going to love you,” She reassured her. 

Wraith smiled sheepishly, blushing again. “…Okay. …Wish me luck.”

“Boa sorte.” Loba winked at her, taking her makeup bag and sauntering away. Flustered, Wraith went to change from her casual attire to something that the talk show might accept… preferably a skirt of some kind.

A/N: I haven’t written a fanfic in a while jesus christ. If this is entirely incomprehensible, blame me for being rusty lul. Also remind me to never write about makeup again

[currentfandomkick]

Bio! Dad Strange Part 10, Mr. J finds Robin

Realized it might be easier to add titles so people know whats going on in these

Marinette was glad she had red hoodie, er, Jay back. He helped her escape her overprotective rouges, and aas the only one she could rant to about JL members without worrying about secret identities.

They may also be plotting to get their Hero Stalker out of the batfam—apparently Dick was a dick to Jason and chances of him changing with Tim were slim.

Speaking of, he didnt pick up lastnight and there havent been Robin sightings lately. Though, she is a but distracted trying to manage Jay’s murder rampages. Zsasz was helping with those and the Sirens pointed him to targets that deserved it, mostly traffickers and cartels.

The Council said that at this rate, he’d be her bodyguard or a new member. She didnt know what that meant for him besides staying beside her, when she worked as ‘Harley’s Niece’ (thank you puzzles for that) but otherwise she was kept away as Pixie Pop (too easy to id her) and Jill was just her father’s daughter taking to his patients and keeping certain Rogues from plotting mass murder (Uncle Jerome, Penguin, Riddler) or terrorist attacks (mostly Scarecrow but sometimes Ivy, Dent and Mr. Freeze)

But it bugged her, Robin being missing. She mentioned it to Rose, who said her flowers hadn’t seen him at all. As Tim or Robin.

She sent out a rouge and RKC search city-wide. Jay helps, as Red Hood (helmet was better but no, hood. Even though he isnt wearing one and is still in the awful outfit they met in).

Red Hood has managed to get a following on the streets and made a no kids rule for everything. All kids found were given to Uncle Oswald or his ‘son’ Marteen (late twenties) for recovery phsycially. Mentall Harley had her own picks for help on therapy, social and psychological sides.

The RKC was thriving since that system was installed.

But Robin was missing two days in. Mr. J was still back and too quiet and damnit!

Marinette skipped her treatments. Gotham is loud and she knows it but she has to do something. Jay is in his gear and she puts on her knock-Harley outfit and stocks up on knives, stungun, bolas and rubber bullet guns on her hips or legs.

She doesnt think about the fact that the red and black makes it look like her and Red Hood are trying to match with the the different red and black he’s wearing. Her makeup covers her face again—done up like a mime with a few contour tricks now.

She sneaks out and patrols on the rooftop, one of Robin’s usual routes. Maybe they just need to talk in person.

Then she catches something that sounds like her Hero Stalker when he was frustrated and tired and oh god that was screaming in there.

She moved. hit Rose’s tracker flower hard enough to leave a distress trail as she ran.

Jay ran after her, following her twists and turns.

She wished she skipped her treatments sooner. Could fly off to help but she hadnt and she cursed herself for this.

At 10 she found Mr. J torturing her friend in a warehouse.

“Stalker,” she whispered. Becuase that’s who he was first, the hero stalker that loved Batman and Robin (Robin-Jay, a small voice corrected her) for helping his city and were kind and caring and nice when his home was cold.

Robin and Mr. J didn’t hear. She knew that words were being said but she couldnt process them. Shock, Harley talked about that a lot after last summer.

A camera was recording. The sick fuck, he wanted to show this to someone.

She grabbed her bolas and threw them at Mr. J’s head.

He went down, hard. Jay handled him, but Marinette only cared about getting her friend off that table.

There was an oversized ray gun lointed at them while she fiddled witht he restraints, picking the locks.

She heard the whirling in it and kicked it in another direction.

It threw lightning. What the hell. What the hell—where was Batman. Why wasnt he keeping her friend safe. Why did he fail to keep Jay safe. Why—why does he get to put kids in danger?

Marinette felt sick. She got an exhausted Tim out and carried him.

She felt Harley run a hand through her hair as she refused to let her friend go.

She didnt know when the others got there, but they were.

Never alone, never go in alone. Always call the family and they will show. Never fight alone—the Council drilled this into her for years. Why was Hero Stalker-Robin alone? Did Batman forget how dangerous Gotham can be?

Zsasz was there with Jay, something Jay being “too nice” about needing to kill him painfully and permanently this time—“properly put him down this time.”

Her mind was a mess. She went to her Father on autopilot, carrying Tim over the rooftops. He clung to her. She’s ten and he’s twelve clinging to her as support. Where’s his team, his backup. Where’s Batman or Batgirl or Nightwing or the newb—Spoiler?

Why was Tim clinging to her and her team when his should be there. When his fights hers. Why were his enemies there and Batman—no, Bruce, his dad. Why wasn’t his Dad there for him. Why?

Father’s assisant helped fix Tim, their ability is to augment healing after Father puts them back together. Any attempt to move his mask was met by her breaking their wrist.

He had enough to worry about. No identity reveals on top of this nightmare, not on her watch.

She didn’t leave him that night. Refused to sleep too.

When he came to the next day, Jay was with a despondent Marinette.

“Going Kronos route,” Jay. Jay was tlaking about that monster. “He said I didnt have to see that.” Jayw as looking at her weird.

Marinette nodded, hoping it was the last time for real Jerimah would die. She lost track of how many times he’d been killed.

“Dad, he’s gotta be worried...” Tim, why the hell aren’t you thinking for yourself? Marinette wants to shake him, to keep him there and never let Bruce see him again.

Jay is debating it too, she can feel it. “I don’t know, he replaced me pretty quick.”

She wants to hit her brother. Becuase she knows he’s hurting but Jay can you chill for a but—he knew Hero Stalker befor ehe became Robin. He kenw what Tim’s life was like before Bruce. And Tim has been through enough, especially for now, hasn’t he?

“I, Ja—” so his first name started with a J. He was Jason Todd Wayne. Red Hoodie was Jason Todd Wayne and Robin and now James Smith. A lot of o’s until now, she noted (distract to aviod processing an overwhelming situation.)

“Its Red Hood. That kid died.”

“Hoodie...” she wanted to hug him or hit him or something. She doesn’t know. It hurts and doesnt at once.

Jay put an hand on her shoulder.

She knew he meant it. That Robin was killed by negilence from what he’d told her and she could peice together. The batfam picked Dick who left over him—a new Robin with no idea what was going on and how to Wayne and was being bullied by the rich kids and teachers in the ways that Jason couldn’t fight against. And when he finally lashed out—started being abit more violent—they put distance and then he went to find someone that might want him, his birth mother. That person sold him out to Mr. J. He died trying to protect his birth mom who wanted him dead.

She wanted cry but her eyes weren’t working. Still in shock then.

“I’m taking you back home if you want, but you have to stop being Robin like this. You can still do detective stuff but you need backup when you patrol or do a bust ir anything. You’re thirteen, not twenty.”

Tim didn’t make eyecontact. “I, he needs me.”

Marinette wanted to throttle Bruce. Badly.

“I get that.”

Harley only got better when Ivy stepped in. Jerome only recovers as long as Marinette keeps talking to him, the Sirens are slowly adopting him so she has more free time. Zsasz does what she says, and when she said no more taking hits unless they broke an RKC rule—attacking kids, abuse (any kind), murder that isn’t justifiable (see Dent for clarification), and active enablers of systematic abuse (dirty cops and their ‘albi’ partner, the false alibi givers too—Rose and Ivy’s plants were happy to testify the truth of anyone’s lcoation at any time).

Hell, if it wasnt for Frost and Ghoul and Puzzles, she doubted their fathers would even be considering backing off of crime. As it stands, Riddler is now running a youtube let’s play and working on game design as her and puzzles constant request. The other two were slowly moving off of crime and more into science again.

Her father would still be.. she didnt want to know how he’d escalate. But there were rumors of an alter around... she’d handle that tomorrow. Today was making sure Tim understood boundaries.

“But that doesnt mean you die for him. Do you hear me?”

Tim wasn’t looking at her then, looking at Jay instead.

“How are you even...”

“I dont talk about it.”

Tim nodded, slowly turning back to Marinette. “I, uh...”

Jay shook his head. “He wont get it pixie.”

“I,” Marinette sighed. Everything in her hurt and she didn’t know why. She wasnt injured. “He can try. Just, please Jay?”

Jay ruffled her hair. “Talk to him then you’re getting some z’s got it?”

Marinette nodded, feeling Jay leave. Probably to talk to Father about this. Maybe the Council.

“T—Robin.” He turned to her then. “Please, don’t die. If its life or death situation, please dont be the one to die. Don’t pull an idiot move and martyr yourself fighting a war. Focus on the causes, find the root issue and kick its butt. If anyone can, its you.”

Tim blinked slowly at her.

Marinette sighed. “Get some rest. Everyone knows if the touch your mask Jay’s got free reign.”

She went home and let Harley gove her Ivy’s knockout tea.

“Hun, how...”

“He doesn’t even realize how screwed up it is. I, he can’t becuase he came from such shit parents and...”

Harley raised an eyebrow at her word choice, and decided certain people would get a talk. Lter, when her neice didnt look like she couls blow up at any minute.

Marinette wanted to scream and kick and fight but thst won’t help her friend.

“...how bad.”

“His birth parents left him alone enough for him to stalk vilgantes and rogues and get pics. They didnt even notice.”

Harley took a deep breath. “I’m giving him a burner. If he’s in deep, he can message us. I can talk to him but we both know that not how Waynes work.”

Marinette rubbed her temples. She suspected Harley knew but... “Do they know?”

“Only me, Selina and Jerome for now. Ivy suspects. Want it to stay our secret?”

Marinette nodded.

Harley patted her head. “Get some sleep. You have a Bat to chew out tonight.”

—

Marinette walked Tim to Batman, escorted by Jerome and Harley.

Jerome was pissed, she noted.

“Batsy, care to explain why my neice and us were the ones to find your bird?”

Batman didn’t look good. His skin was tired. Hopefully from searching for his son, right?

Batman was silent.

Tim ran into his arms, crying.

Marinette could feel Jerome ready to punch Batman. She held him back.

“Give him a minute, please.”

Jerome narrowed his eyes, but nodded.

Batman idly noted the interaction. Apparently this girl... clown-mime? She had sway over Joker and Harley. And found his son.

He didnt know how to thank them, or what to do with that.

“Er, Mr. Batman?” The girl sounded different then. More than a tonal shift.

“I, you need to fix your team. This is the second time this happened to one of your sons.”

Batman tensed at that.

“It was Mr. J again. I, one of my uncles and my brother are handling him. This is the third summer he’s tried killing a kid.”

That had both looking at her. “He,” Marinette was smaller then, almost... scared.

Batman seemed to catch what she was trying to say.

“He kidnapped my girl here with hatter, killed Hatter infront kf her, and held her for a week while deciding how to kill her until she escaped and called us.”

Batman stared at Marinette then, something clicking enough to make him pale.

“He targets kids. The, the RKC are claiming jurisdiction on him and claiming his body to prevent future revivals,” Marinette got out, shaking slightly. She hated thinking about that week. It took day with the green crystals and week after to recover phsyically.

Batman didnt say anything, waiting for her to talk. Not the adults—he put together she’s incharge.

It was unnerving.

Tim was looking ar her too. They both knew she knew a lot. He wanted to see what she’d do with that knowledge.

She hated to dissapoint him, but Oswald and Marteen and Fish told her to make sure negotations go her way by any means necessary.

“I, Robin is either to be supervised or partnered during all patrols, put on a team somewhere else where he gets that support or be removed from fieldwork and he needs a new alias for his safety.”

Robin, not Tim, stiffened. “You’re not the boss of me!”

“If these conditions aren’t met, then i...”

Harley stepped forward then. “Then me or Jokes will blab about who’s under the mask. If its bad enough, then my mini-me will let out four other leaguer’s identities and their sidekicks. She’s pretty smart, even panicked when she found out i knew how much she knew.”

Marinette was paler under the makeup. She knew

This was the best plan for sucess but it made her feel sick.

Batman put Tim behind him.

“How does she—”

Marinette winced at the tone.

Batman froze at her reaction. He didnt like it when kids were scared of him.

She was shaking when she spoke. “Paterns and friends with their obsessions and me with mine and a few photoshop jokes and it just...” she trailed off, curling in in herself and eyes on the ground.

Bad move but she, she cant look at people right now. Maybe Jay but not the man who pushed her brother into a palce where he was vulenerable, not one who failed to get two of his sons away from Mr. J.

“You, you should have a meeting or something on secret identities becuase i have to keep a lot of them now. Becuase, becuase you guys are bad at them and blocking JL news did nothing to stop figuring out Arrow with his archery style and Superman’s only works with general disbelief and acting and Wonderwoman should vary how she carries herself or something and uh, yeah, Flash was more a senses thing and uh, i just...”

She was fiddling. With her ropes. When did she start doing that?

“I’ll talk to the league.” Batman was watching her carefully. Too carefully.

“Just, just think things through, okay? Tag team patrols if he stays and new costume—i made him by knowing him before... maybe a different role on the team? I, i don’t know just...”

Marientte squeezed the rope. Oh, those were tears starting up. “please keep him safe.”

She didnt see their reactions. She heard Jay coming over, in his helmet.

“Pixie, time to go.” It was Jay that lifted her up. She was lighter then? Did her worry screw with her treatment processing again? She didnt know. Or maybe she was just light to him?

She let him take her the long way, to the RKC.

She cried with Rose’s plants growing over her and Jay into him. Rose kept Ghoul from going to kill someone by getting him to help her make crepes for Marinette.

It was an absymal attempt. But it got her to laugh.

Frost gave her an ice sculpture and told them he’d be taking her to his summer classes in Central for a few.

—

The JL have a meeting. No one likes what Batman tells them.

“You’re telling us Harley Quinn—who took you down on her own twice—she has a neice that knows not only your team’s identities, but mine, Supes, Wonder Woman and Flash’s?” Arrow summized.

Batman sighed. “Yes.”

The League was silent for a moment.

Flash was the one to break it. “You wouldnt happen to have any pictures of Harley in casual clothing would you?”

Everyone turned to him, various looks of confusion, rage and disgust.

Batman put a picture of Harley with the Sirens up, one where she forgot her make-up during a ‘shopping spree’ in the Sirens early days.

“Yeah, i think she’s this girl, Jill i think, her aunt. The kid was wicked smart when i met her at the Flash muesum last year, and knew more than she should about acfive police cases. I think she’s our mystery girl, Pixie.”

“That’s what Red Hood was calling her before taking her away.”

The league burst into chaos then.

“We need to find her”

“Get the security feeds from the Flash muesum last summer.”

“Theyre deleted already.”

“Databases for american girls named variations of Jill born between XXXX and XXXX”

“Wait, alias, maybe?”

“Damnit!”

—

The Flash was patroling his city when she spotted her. Pixie. At central city university.

“Hey there kiddo.”

The girl jumped a bit, turning to see him. Earplugs. sensory issues?

“Uh, hello?” Th girl looked around, like she was expecting someone else. “Are you looking for someone?”

“Kind of. Maybe you can help?”

That got the girl’s attention, sitting up straighter and her eyes sharper. Definately the girl Batman said she was. He put his league comm on, hoping the others would hear.

“There’s this case I’m working on, but the lead scientist is stuck on. I heard from a certain reporter you’re pretty good at forensic science, think you can help with a bit of bio?”

Marinette blinked a few times, but nodded. “Kind of. Im not allowed in labs yet so i mostly just look at data and figure out what patterns fit it best. My father doesnt want me to get too involved with biology or medicine since mom has a science ban.”

Red flag. Restrictive learning is a red flag. Possible abusive or toxic home. Procede with caution.

“Well that’s good. Give me one sec, the lead on this isnt getting it done.”

flash came back in less than a second, holding a file. “Can you look this over and tell me what happened?”

“The kid was moved through multiple locations while injured. He, he couldnt fight back since there’s no defensive wounds, but restraint bruising, looks like metal since its uniform... i, mr. flash, they have a lot of injuries, but some are old and defensive so in bad fighting situations a lot too.”

Marinette handed him back the file.

“Thank you. The forensic guy is taking forever.”

That had the girl, Jill? Looking at him again, this time curious. He hoped the league turned on his camera to see her reactions. Get her into their database.

“Who is it?”

“Barry Allen.”

Marinette couldnt help it, Barry (not flash, Barry who is hiding being a meta and still speaking out) is her personal hero. Him and Harley, but still. “He’s really cool!”

Okay, she can’t hide her fangirl side.

Flash raised an eyebrow. “Not really. Always late, sloppy attire, testimonies are eh.”

Marinette was mad then—why cant Flash let his alter be amazing!

“He’s late becuase he’s known to stay up late working on other cases when he isnt paid to and doesnt have to. And appearances and organizational skills arent what matters—his expertise is and he’s one of best with getting everyone what they need in time for case-building. So what if his reports are hard to read sometimes? He explains it in personso everyone gets what happened, which is very important and a lot of people are super bad at. And—and he advocates for meta rights and for their ability and circumstances taken into consideration during sentencing—none of the others even try to remind people of that and that a lot of metas dont chose their powers and it gets overwhelming and scary and then one instictive reaction later and people get hurt when you didnt want to react at all.”

Flash felt something kick him in the chest then. The girl is meta. Ear plugs. Possibly hurt somone by accident.

“If its okay, can i ask what your ability is?”

Marinette froze. “I. If anyone finds out, I lose Maman and Papa and Father and everyone.”

Flash froze at that. “What do you mean you lose everyone.”

“I, I’m visiting family for the summer. I live in France.” She didnt want to say more than that for location. “Being meta there is bad. Automatic life sentence with no trial bad.”

Flash sat down, putting an arm around her. This, this was not what he was expecting.

“My powers get worse in the summer. If I slip here, most of my family can handle it. Nothing bad happens. If i slip at home with Maman and Papa, i... if anyone knew then i’d be taken away whether they wanted it or not.”

“Where would you end up?” He had to know how bad it was.

“Living zombie in correction centers. Then jail-jail when you’re 18 until you die... no trial. Being meta is a crime there. And, and mr. Allen doesnt think that way at all. He keep saying you need to contextualize power and abilities and intents and if you defend yourself and you’re meta you go jail...”

Flash stayed silent, letting her continue.

“Maman screamed a lot when i hit this stalker in france. He was following me and other kids from school with a bat, saying he’d teach us all lessons. We got away but he kept trying to get us. I snapped one time and he was mostly fine, nothing permanent but Maman was so angry at me for almost getting caught becuase it was on tape and i was a little kid and little kids run, they dont fight.

“My powers didnt show though—Father made a treatment to keep them from that. No one suspects stickers... but she’s still scared its enough for a rep to come and check me for meta abilities and that she’ll lose me again.

“Again?”

Marinette twisted at that. “I, uh, probably would be dead if Father didnt find a treatment for me as a baby. Its how i got my abilities, but if theyre ever neutralized completely, i’d be dead. So we have to curb them... Maman forgets i need them and almost threw out my supply once. She forgets that i’m not normal until things like a student stalker happen and i hit the guy with his bat and then she remembers and gets scared i’ll be taken and its just...”

Flash decided he was adopting her, somehow. Smart and powered and in need of help.

There would be an intervention in France soon.

“Sounds like a lot of pressure, especially for someone your age.”

Marinette didnt make eye contact. “I have to. If i dont then there’s a dot in the open and thats a possible pattern and someone might connect it to the ones i couldnt stop. And Father and me are good at connecting dots and finding possibilities.”

Flash wanted to scream at the League then, he ahd a feeling they only added to her stress.

“He, he says we’re hardwired to find patterns and possibilities. But i shouldnt catch as many as i do. My teachers keep saying i need to slow down and dial it back and stop catching on so fast and blurting things out but i just...”

Marinette was fiddling with her hair then, it was down enough to.

“Sounds like you’re a real smart kid.”

“Smart kids don’t get caught.” She needed to be smarter, untraceable.

Flash thought she meant the Justice League wasn’t smart. And if the girl was reluctant to let him bring them in just yet...

“Do you at least have someone you can talk to about this?”

“My Auntie Quinn and Rose. Rose doesnt like you though.”

“Oh? Who made her mad at us? Was is Arrow?” He already knew but he wanted to know why.

“Batman. He, uh gave her to someone who, and i quote, ‘should never be allowed to have a sentiment child that is not a plant’ when she was found by him. She’s younger than me but she looks older, and isnt allowed outside of her house.”

Flash heard a low thump from his comm. oh, Batman knew who it was alright.

“I, uh, do you need help with another case?”

Flash smiled at her. She needed a distraction from what she just said.

“Back in a flash!” Once he was back in starr labs he turned on his audio. “Who was it?”

“Poison Ivy’s daughter. Cadmus, not Ivy, created her apparently.”

Flash swore as he grabbed a differnt file. Potential speedster case he hadn’t gotten around to.

“Here ya go kiddo,” Flash grinned at her.

Marinette nodded her head and looked over the file.

“Something doesn’t add up... there!” She pointed at one of the photographs. “See?”

Flash leaned in to get a better look.

“It looks like the speedster marks but that would only work if the speedster was messing with spacetime continum! But there’s no evidence of that so Occam’s razor, its a lightning meta!”

Flash looked over the picture and it did add up. Especially the lack of certain streaking patterns.

“They were probably teleporting since theres no drag or streaks, just one epicenter,” Marinette continued.

Flash decided that the League would be visiting Paris, and he’d be personally fixing the meta policies. And that the girl, Jill, she’d be in the League. She lectured Batman and Robin on safety and seemed to be focused on helping them in their weaker spots as heroes... mainly identity maintenance. And she likes science and is good at it—perfect to add a science-centric member to the League as she grows up.

—

That’s the end of this summer. Next time we do marinette meeting Tikki and becoming Ladybug. That should take a few posts until we get back to gotham.

Let me know if you want a JL handling looking for Marinette as Princess (the kiddie kyptonian) and Jill (who Flash found and is presumed to be Harley’s neice). Im happy to if there’s interest.

Reminder, there will be many a miraculous swap and the Ladybug parts will diverge from cannon as 1) i changed a lot of characters, 2) charater dynamics are altered too and 3) i’m changing when students came in and how Adiren ended up in school.

Also, see my kwami posts for how the kwami are in this AU as they are not the same as cannon and it will be a bit obvious.

@dast218 @ilovefluffbutsmutisalsogreat @weird-pale-blonde-person @emeraldpuffguide @mystery-5-5

[vancilocs]

In thirds, cain and mercer, max and roo, and krea and trias?

yeet

1. What is their relationship to each other?

Together, married, soulmates, whatnot

2. How did they first encounter each other? What did they first think about each other? 

Mercer was trying to kill Cain and almost got killed himself, Cain went to check what the fuck happened and found a guy with no arm bleeding out and dragged him to a safe place + healed him against his better judgement. Mercer basically thought Cain was a dangerous bloodthirsty mage and Cain was both scared and annoyed at a hunter finding him, not to mention the hunter looking quite a bit like the one who shot his ear off when he was 14

3. What is their relationship like now? 

Living together in the forest, learning magic, appreciating nature, appreciating each other, very much in love

4. What will their relationship be like in the future? 

Together until the end of the line, no breaking the bond they have built

5. What traits does each person find endearing in the other? 

Cain is calm and level-headed and has a much subtler way of showing affection, so he’s a very grounding influence on Mercer which he can appreciate. Cain realized through Mercer how nice it is to be openly and unashamedly loved and how good it is to share everything nice in your life. Both are also very passionate about their interests and good listeners, eager to learn and support

6. Which traits does each person find annoying in the other? 

Mercer can be loud, brash, lose focus (makes things like meditating hard), he’s needier than Cain attention-wise so sometimes Cain just gotta ask to be left alone for a moment (Mercer doesn’t mind that at all, he gets it). For Mercer, Cain is a slower teacher who takes his time introducing Mercer to magic and its aspects, so Mercer can get frustrated bc he wants to learn how to make lightning already

7. How often do they see each other? How often do they talk to each other?

They see each other pretty much every day, if not the whole day then at the very least they spend the night together most of the time. Rarely the other goes on a longer trip and might be away overnight or a couple of nights, but still sends birds to the lover to reassure everything’s okay

8. Could they live together easily? Why/why not? 

Not in a city but both really enjoy their nomadic lifestyle and each other’s company so the way they have is good for them

9. How much physical contact would these characters have with each other? 

Oh a lot. And with Mercer’s wooden arm he gets to finally give Cain some good hugs, hold his hand more and even do his hair if he allows. Mercer is more touchy-feely and Cain doesn’t mind it most of the time. Also cuddled up is the best way to sleep

10. What would they get for each other as birthday gifts? 

They don’t really give gifts, especially when living together. Earlier Mercer would always bring sweets from the city when he went to the forest to see Cain but now they probably don’t even celebrate birthdays.

-

11. What hobbies do they share, if any?

Music (Cameron plays, Max appreciates), maybe makeup? Max will contour Cameron and give him a bit of a 5′o’clock shade before he goes on HRT. Also videogames probably though Max is less of a gamer

12. Do either of them have any hobbies or interests which annoy the other?

No, Max is a huge supporter of the band and Cameron her first makeup channel subscriber

13. Do any of their beliefs (religious, moral, or otherwise) differ? Do they conflict strongly? 

Nah? I doubt either is super religious or anything. They agree on things and don’t do things that piss the other one off

14. Who is the better cook? Who is better at general household tasks? 

Max is a great cook and is happy to make dinner for Cameron too, also probably somewhat neater than Gamer Bro McChickenNugget over here

15. Which of them is more adventurous? Is the other adventurous enough to go along with them? 

Cameron is rowdier and took Max along during high school days, nowadays she doesn’t have much time but supports him wholeheartedly

16. Would they go on holiday together, and where would they go? 

Probably have gone before, city holidays and/or beaches especially after top surgery are great

17. When one is feeling down, how does the other respond?

Ask about it, offer to bring snacks, offer a shoulder to lean on, offer advice if they have some or solutions, just be there and present and ready to help if asked

18. If one was in a difficult life situation, what would the other do for them? 

Anything really, they’d let the other live with them, borrow money if needed, borrow clothes or makeup or whatever, mi casa es su casa

19. Has one ever had to stop the other from making a very foolish decision? And did the other listen to them? 

When Nevan came crawling back Max told her no of her own volition but Cameron would also have told her to tell Nev to fuck right off. But Max didn’t listen to him before when it came to that woman

20. Has one ever strongly encouraged the other to make a big decision? Did they go through with it? 

Cameron always told Max to dump Nevan (and she did a couple of times but in the end it was Nev who ended that farce). Max told Cameron to be straightforward with his feelings towards Jules bc she could see how much it was dragging him down after years of pining

-

21. How would one feel about the other being in love (with them or with someone else)?

Krea is aromantic and doesn’t date, but he does love Shae with all he has in his own way, so idk how Trias feels about that. Krea doesn’t really care about Trias’s love life, but wishes she finds happiness and stability in her own life. Just please not with Shyn she’s so annoying. He wouldn’t want Trias to be in love with himself either.

22. Are there any other people who are a part of both their lives, e.g. friends or family members they share? 

Both associate with Remy, Krea is definitely not his friend though. He tangentially associates with Shyn too by letting her kill evildoers. Qizare is a friend of them both, Vastravia loves Krea and... Trias not so much. Tolerates her if anything. Vosgi doesn’t like her, Jun is neutralish, a bit negative. Shae likes Trias more than you’d think but is also careful about getting too close.

23. How does each person feel about the other person’s family members and close friends? Do they get along with them? 

Krea doesn’t like any of Trias’s friends except for Kiki.

24. Do either of them get jealous over relationships the other one has with friends/family/romantic partners/other people? 

Krea doesn’t, Trias might. Krea has his handful (three) of lovers past and present and does show PDA with them so if Trias is annoyed by that then tough shit lmao (also he has loving familial relationships with Kiki and Vastravia and speaks highly of his parents which Trias lacks so that might make her jealous)

25. Is either person jealous of the other’s wealth or possessions? 

Nah. Neither flaunts it. Krea’s most precious possession is his rifle, he’ll give Trias his old cloak himself

26. If the pair of them had to look after a young child or pet, what would happen? 

Krea is suspiciously good at looking after children and being a dad, wouldn’t let Trias touch it though

27. How far would each go to protect the other? 

Very far, neither is shy about going to the extreme if the other is in serious danger. Trias went mano a mano with Athena of all people to keep her off Krea and later skulked around his hospital room and caught Lyla red-handed so

28. Is there anyone else that each person would protect over the other, if they had to make a choice? 

If anything then Krea deciding to protect someone he deems weaker, because he knows Trias is more than capable of looking after herself. Would trust her to understand this

29. If one died, how would the other respond? What would happen to them afterwards? 

Krea would have lost a friend and he’d be sad, angry, seek justice as he would for anyone else. He did die for a moment, and Trias would have lost a big inhibitor if he had stayed dead

30. How far would each person follow the other? Would they trust them enough to commit crime because the other asked them to?

Krea won’t commit crimes on her behalf, in fact he kinda tries to keep people from doing crimes. There is not much he would do for her without wanting to know every single detail of the plan.

31. If one wronged the other badly, would the other forgive them easily? 

I don’t think either would forgive easily if it was something that genuinely hurt the other and broke the trust. They’re close, but some things they want to keep secret and make it clear they want to keep secret so digging into those would be bad. It’d take a while to get the trust back.

[yukiobeyme]

Can I request some trans boy asmo with a trans boy mc hcs?? Love your blog!!

Thank you! I am loving all these Trans! HC!! I hope I did this some justice. This could be read as Asmo x Trans! Reader as well, though I specified at the one part it could be read either romantically or platonically. I have to go do homework for a bit, I have a prompt from 200 prompts (#53  left voicemails- where were you? w/ Asmo and Male MC) I’ll see if I can get to it tonight if not, I have plenty of time tomorrow.

You tell Asmo during one of your spa nights

It was during face masks because he was hoping to take a relaxing bath with you as well

You had said yes then immediately thought about what that implied

But you had been wanting to tell him for a while, because you seemed to click with him from the start

He was so confident in his sexuality and masculinity he didn’t mind wearing more feminine clothes sometimes

When Asmo squealed and threw his arms around you in a hug, you were confused

He finally would pull back and info you that he was also trans and you were just shocked.

He would giggle before peppering you in kisses

Depending on where you were in Transitioning Asmo would do loads of stuff

Pre Everything: He would ask about your preferred name if you want or would be interested in binding, your clothing choices, and if you are considering medical procedures

You would have to get him slow down, he rushing

He would blush and apologize

If you weren’t out to the boys, he would ask if you would like them to know.

If you wanted to wait, in private and in texts he made sure to use your name

Never pushing you but encouraging you that they would accept you

On days you body dysphoria is so bad, he would chant your name over and over again, making you feel stronger because he is reminding you who you are.

If you want to tell them soon

Asmo asks how you would like to

And helps you plan it

Asmo is there to support you and his brothers during the transition

The bothers would easily transition from your deadname to your real name and pronouns

Maybe the occasionally slip up but within a week they had it down

He makes a cake, With your name on it and pronouns and when its cut into it the trans flag is on the inside

You might have teared up so because it was so touching

If you are in the middle of transitioning

He’d ask if you are comfortable to disclose if you have had top surgery or if you bind

He reassures you he is asking so if you are binding he can give you tips and check in on you.

Telling you it is hotter here in Devildom than Earth so he needs to make sure his man is taking care of himself.

Making sure you take breaks and stretch.

He would swap stories with you about his experience and how he was able to figure out who he was and what it meant to him

Would ask if you were on T or something you are interested in

That was more out of curiosity than anything, he tells you he is lucky to be a demon because a few magic spells and witches helped him get to where he wanted.

If you do take T, he offers his full support and tells you he is there for you if you need him

Post: He asks about everything you have done, just to gauge what he needs to look for

If you have had the top surgery, he asks if your scars are healing well in Devildom with different humidity and temperature and the different clothes could interfere with healing so he just worried, offering you ointments he has to help reduces redness and puffiness.

Takes you on a shopping trip regardless if you are Pre, in the middle or Post he takes you on a shopping trip.

Asking if you have a style preference

Which is where you mention his confidence to show his feminine side while still being a man.

You either tell him you don’t mind the more feminine pieces or its not something you are interested in.

Tells you money doesn’t matter he wants you to have the best wardrobe now. The fits everything you want or need he wants his man to look good

Whenever he goes shopping now he’ll come back with a piece or two for you.

Has an emergency kit in his room for your bad days.

Completes with fluffy blankets, baggy hoodies, your fav masculine cologne, movies, snacks and whatever else you need

If you are comfortable being shirtless around him he would down to worship your body

Either in a nonsexual or sexual way

Reminding you how handsome you are

How masculine you look

If you are interested in makeup to enhance masculine feature

He will teach you what he knows

Show you how to fill in your eyebrows so they are more bushy and messy which instantly is a more masculine look.

And how to contour your jaw so it's sharp and angular

He will also share his insecurities with you because even the Avatar of Lust is worried about how he looks and is perceived.

Those days are spent in bed, cuddling and comforting him, reminding him how handsome he is.

Asmodeus becomes very protective over you too

Matching Trans Pride T-shirts, which he would ask you go to Devildom Pride with him

Trans Pride Flags and other merch, so you can be out and proud

Is always your right-hand man and super supportive

[patricia-von-arundel]

Kind of random but I wanted to mention how your recent post made me realize why I loved Edelgard's supports with the other girls so much! They focus on showing her softer qualities (as do a lot of her supports!) without making it focus on what she chooses not to do (such as wearing makeup.) As a girl who adhors makeup and has constantly dealt with female family members pushing/teasing me about not using it seeing Edel's choice of not using makeup much be accepted without mention is sweet!

One of my favorites is her support with Bernie, because it shows so well how she's learning to be softer. She goes from ordering around and shouting to just... talking to a friend. Their last support is absurdly gentle. It's wonderful.

Softness is a quality I wish society didn't associate with femininity. And I'm glad Three Houses embraces that - of the lords, the softest is Dimitri! By far! Dimitri is a gentle soul. We also have Ashe. And Dedue is soft and kind, despite his appearance. But so are Bernie, Mercie, Marianne. Hubert and Linhardt and Felix are hard; so are Lysithea and Ingrid and Leonie. It's a wonderful mix. And none of them are defined by that quality. The soft characters can show a rougher side; the hard characters, like Edelgard, can be soft. People are complicated like that. And no one should feel they must be hard or soft, especially because of their sexual/gender identity. It's okay to just be how you're comfortable being. (As someone who has a really hard time expressing vulnerable emotions, despite being very comfortably female... I really appreciate this game!)

And for the record, I haven't worn any makeup since I was a teenager. I don't feel the need for it, it bores me to put on, it makes my skin break out, and I don't have much of an eye for all the shading and whatnot. Where my daughter will happily spend an hour on contouring... I barely get what that is. But she enjoys it, so cool. (I, uh... just hope I got the right kind of brushes for Christmas.) Honestly, makeup should be something you want to do, not something you have to do. So you do you. It has nothing to do with being feminine (or lack thereof). 🙂

[rockingthegraveyard]

Anyone want to read my borderline erratic, obviously I’ve already had cold medicine, notes on an LoK fic I want to do????

I’m really attached to the idea and hopefully will still be when this cold is gone jasdkdhgfahsdfkjg

Kuvira wins!  And possibly more evil than canon but what fucking ever. 

The spirit portal opens only Kuvira is pushed out while Korra disappears. Air kids get away but Mako, Bolin, Asmai, Tenzin, Varrick and Zuh-Li are captured by Kuvira’s army.  (Lin and Su barely get away since they were in the discarded arm.)

Mako loses his arm. He is the one that blew the Colossus to shit and he doesn’t shy away from that fact. Especially concerning that Kuvira is out for blood because of it and he’d much rather take the brunt of the punishment despite everyone being involved. And Mako has the hurt arm to prove it. So she does him a “favor” and removes the damage for it and cauterizes the wound with hot metal. 

Mako, Bolin and Asami share a cell where they fucking break down because what else do you do in that situation. Mako is obviously dying.

Asami is called to Kuvira to explain her and Varrick’s erratic ‘Hummingbird” designs since they whipped them up in a hurry and it was only just the core concept of them. She refuses until Mako gets medical attention.

 What the fuck Kya isn’t in season 4??? Rando Waterbender heals Mako as much as they can (mostly clean the infection he obviously would have gotten and properly close the wound). Yada yada all three have a talk. Mako says hope is stupid ‘cause hope didn’t keep them fed. Asami says it doesn’t hurt to hope, especially that Korra is okay. 

Kuvira says Mako and Bolin (along with Tinzen, Varrick and Zhu-Li) are being sent to one of her camps or w/e they were called. Bolin explains what little he knows of them, he tells Asami he is afraid Mako won’t make it in there. Asami makes herself difficult and succeeds in being sent with them. They’re being delivered by train. 

Lin, Su (and maybe some others idfk) infiltrate the train. They’re undercover! Hair dyed, makeup covering scars and contouring all that good business. They’re all like whoooaaa. Except Asami of course, girl knows how to use makeup magic. 

They all escape, taking the whole back cart of the train with even more prisoners, in for a penny in for a pound. And they all form this sort of resistance in and outside of Republic City. 

END SCENE or prologue … act?? 

A YEAR PASSES or maybe more idk. KORRA IS BACK! The spirit canon really messed up her spirit or something??? And the whole time she was in the spirit world in a spirit coma, spirit healing or what have you.

She has no concept of how much time has gone by and is very confused when she pops out and there is Earth Empire soldiers and emblems/flags everywhere. Commence chase scene! Only mid chance she’s yanked to an alley by a member of the resistance who has infiltrated the military and guides her to the base.

Hooray reunion! Hugs and tears and Korra is confused af but she’s still happy. Whoop, where is Mako tho? Aw he was captured and hasn’t been seen in around 6 to 4 months (who  knows how trime is going along in this fic). Korra is of course all gun ho but then she’s like way how much fucking time has passed???

She doesn’t get over how long she’s been away but she’s trying to push past that because Mako is still missing. But it’s not like they haven’t been looking. Bolin and Asami especially. They haven’t figured out where he was shipped off to yet. 

[THINGS HAPPEN HERE BUT I HAVEN’T FIGURED IT OUT YET OKAY!?]

A group of them are all in a meeting with Lin or something when a messenger bursts in and say a lightning plant in the city had exploded! Oh no, how tragic. None of them expect Lin to crumbled up her metal desk like a fucking paper ball and toss it accross the room.

Turns out Lin knew where Mako waaaaaaas.

/cue flashback to what the hickity heck Mako’s been up to/

Mako was captured and was told he better know how to generate lightning and was sent off to the plant. Mako does know how but has a hard time with one arm but that’s enough to make him useful which makes it enough to save his life. 

The Lightning plants are sort of made into prisons (with the aid of some sold earth/metal bending to create places to store people) where fire benders are locked up and forced to bend lightning day in and day out because they have yet to implement spirit vines throughout the city. That and it’s still a volatile source of energy and they’re using it lightly until they can figure out a safer way to use it.

Mako ends up standing up to the guards to aid a young fire bender, who is, like, the youngest there. (He’s like idk, 14/15? Skilled but rough around the edges and makes mistakes not to mention his attitude.) That puts him in good favor with several of the other prisoners who start looking up to him. (Him being in the Avatar’s circle doesn't hurt either.)

He gets closest to the kid, who comes from Fire Nation parents, and a man who is mixed heritage, Fire and Water, raised by his Water Tribe mother and step father. Boasts how no one can redirect lightning like he can. (Names uuuuuuhhhhh Min for the kid and maybe Hahn for the guy???? Maybeeeeeee) ((((possibly a romance between Mako and Hahn because I’m already attached that for some fucking reason, weird????)))))

They all get to know each other, become friends, learn to support each other among many of the other benders. They all work together but there are sort of groups and Mako is told he’s sort of the leader of theirs (He doesn’t like that, he’s like, no, no that’s no good but they don’t give him much of a choice.)

Well one of the groups decide they want to try and overload a generator which will take a lot of fucking effort and possibly more than one. Mako tries to argue that the guards would never let that happen but they’ve all been watching, keeping time with how the guards move and observe them they think they can pull it off until it’s too late. He tries to argue that they’re going to get themselves killed but they’re fine with that, better die fighting then die used or something like that. They say that should it explode there were more than enough firebenders to protect the rest of them from the blast. Mako can’t argue that. 

It happens, a bunch of people die but they escape and the groups sort of all split off. Mako leading his way through the city he knows like the back of his hand. 

[FUCK, somewhere in there Lin had found Mako and was like, come one kid lets  blow this joint. But he’s like naw I’m good I got ppl here and I need to look after n’ stuff. And she’s like ….wat?? And he’s like this is all Korra’s fault, she made me care about more than my inner circle, blame her. Peace out. And then she left them there with a promise not to tell Bolin cause he’d understand but Mako doesn’t want him doing anything reckless and Mako will figure something out, he always does. He hopes af.]

Reunion tiiiiime everyone is sooooo happy, yay the krew is back together and Bo is happy he has a new little brother to add to the mix. ((because of course Bolin would be like, guess Min is out new little brother and I love him, that boy loves obtaining family))

other things happen, idk, that’s all i got so far, i’ve just been listening to sad music and laying in bed trying to ignore my cold and that’s what’s going on in mah brain

[veritymakeup17-blog]

Choosing a Bridal Makeup Designer for Your Wedding Day

One of the things I actually hear from brides when they are 1st looking around for a wedding cosmetics artist is "I've never ever done this before, and so I'm not really sure just what I'm supposed to do. " This is correct! The majority of brides have never organized a wedding, and many have never chosen a professional makeup artist. It could be confusing and overwhelming! Now i'm writing this as an insider in the industry, to help walk everybody inquiring brides-to-be through the method and to make it as easy and stress-free as possible. wedding makeup artist

"How do I locate makeup artists in my location? "

The first step is to get the artists who service your neighborhood and make a list of ones you want to look into. Referrals from your place, wedding planner or digital photographer are worth their weight in GOLD. They do marriages all the time, have worked with numerous other vendors, and realize who is good. Most sites and planners have a "Recommended Vendor List" that they are thrilled to hand out to their booked women. Photographers are always happy to help to make recommendations for reputable, talented makeup foundation artists because the great kinds make their jobs less difficult! (Less Photoshop and moment spent editing? Oh yes! ) Friends who have recently been hitched can also be a good source of prospects. Ask them who they applied and if they'd use them once more. And of course, the internet has made that a much easier task compared with years past, and a basic internet search of "makeup designers in (insert town here)" should bring up a list of these people. So now you have some prospective artists chosen...

"How will i choose the right makeup artist to me? "

There are 5 important things to look for when making this particular decision.

Their website and profile - Reputable bridal facial foundation artists will have a professional-looking website that showcases photos of their work. Beware of web sites that use stock images or maybe overly edited photos. Furthermore, keep in mind that a tacky seeking website is often a sign regarding tacky taste - and a lot likely poor taste inside makeup. Online portfolios must show a range of different appears to be, from barely-there natural make-up, to more dramatic night time looks. If only one cosmetics look is featured online, chances are pretty good it's the simply look they know how to carry out, and it's the look you and everybody in your bridal party is going to acquire.

Style - Does the makeup foundation represented on the makeup artist's website represent the style of facial foundation you are looking for? If you are into passionate makeup looks paired with dewy skin, you'll want to stay away from the musicians who prefer the heavy contours, Instagram-type looks. And the other way round - if you like the more substantial Kim Kardashian makeup seem, then the artists who highlight more natural makeup appearance aren't going to be the right choice to suit your needs. bridal makeup artist

Reviews - There are so many web sites for consumers to abandon and find reviews. Use them! Regarding wedding vendors, sites just like the Knot, WeddingWire and Yelp are fantastic resources. Look into the reviews for each makeup artisan you are considering, but keep issues in mind. First, it's come to be increasingly easier for businesses to put together fake reviews for themselves. Should you be scrolling through their reviews to see dozens of 5-star ones just about all within a few days, that enterprise probably paid people to get away from those reviews for them. To describe it in done to counteract previous bad reviews, as it boosts way up their overall rating. I would recommend searching through a businesses opinions by "lowest rating" whenever you can. Second, it's normal to get a business to have one or two lower than 5-star reviews. Everybody differs from the others and people appreciate different things. 3-stars under value could mean that consumer didn't value their awesome $100 makeup application around they valued their $2000 pair of Jimmy Choo sneakers. Also sometimes bad critiques can be left in retaliation if a client was unsatisfied about not getting their approach about something. I would not fret about one or two sub-standard reviews, but if you see a considerable number of them, that should be cause of concern.

Personality and Relationship - Something that a lot of people may put much weight in is the personality of a make-up artist and the personal relationship you have with them. Their cosmetics skills are amazing? Fantastic! Their particular personality not so golden? Is actually more important than you think. You can spending hours with this performer on one of the most important times of your life. You should like these individuals, and want to have them around. May it be through email, over the telephone, or in person, make sure this specific makeup artist makes you feel relieved from pain! Past reviews can be perfect for this. Look for key phrases just like "I felt like We have known her forever! inches or "she was consequently soothing and calming in the course of such a stressful time". Some individuals are just naturally "people" folks. Those are the ones an individual hire.

Price - Cost are something I have to mention, as it can be such an important choosing factor for so many brides to be. You'll need to choose a makeup designer who fits into your wedding price range, but keep in mind that in this factor, you truly do get everything you pay for. Makeup artists on the higher end of the price level are there for a reason: each uses high-end quality products, they have already paid for special training, they will practice proper sanitation (all those disposables and sterilizing products can get expensive! ), and they have skills and knowledge that lesser priced performers usually can't match. For this perfect bridal look you have envisioned, and flawless wedding party photos to boot, choose a great artist at the top of your budget range.

"I know who I would like to book, now what? "

Step one, if you haven't already completed so , is to confirm supply with the makeup artist which you have chosen. The best artists book up to and including year and a half in advance. Which mean your top selection in artist won't have got your date available if it is closer than that, yet it's best to reach out as soon as possible. (Those wedding timelines that express to book hair and also makeup two months prior to the wedding? So wrong! )

When availability is confirmed, you will have to determine if you want to book your own personal artist immediately to hold your date with them, as well as schedule a trial run ahead of booking. Be aware that scheduling a shot run with your artist previous to booking will not guarantee your personal date will still be available. Many brides book their schedules first and schedule an attempt run closer to their marriage ceremony - and the early pet gets the worm. Of course , when any part of you will be unsure about your decision to engage a particular makeup artist, then the trial run prior to reservation is advisable. In this circumstance I recommend doing one immediately to avoid the possibility of your time being booked by one more bride. For all others, publication that date!! If they also have passed all 5 in the above qualifiers, that's the wonder combination.

[tervacious]

Since Everything is a Feminist Dissertation Imma blog about Shane Dawson’s palette for a minute

Nine times out of ten when you make a statement and end it with BUT, you have outted yourself as a hypocritical ass who should have the ovarios to say what follows the BUT without the opening statement.  Maybe this will be true for me too.

In agreement with most radfems I totally think the cosmetics industry is a clusterfuck of male entitlement and wealth being siphoned away from girls and women to men and male CEOs, etc etc, and I also think the sheer amount of product and time involved in placing thirty-five different products on one’s face to achieve a “natural” look is insidious and a perfect exemplar of what misogyny functions like on a daily basis, BUT

I’m a survivor of an extreme fundie xtian cult that controlled female behavior by emphasizing conformity, femininity, modesty, and lack of adornment/personality.  I did not like this even as a small child because I’m a loner, Dottie.  A rebel.  Which means I was a totally normal little girl who didn’t like being controlled and who fought back at every opportunity.

Which might explain why I’m a goth.  I’m also an artist, and I’m on this planet, as are you, for a very tiny amount of time, and if I want to spend a fraction of that time adorning myself and wearing lots of black eyeliner, by the goddess I’ll fucking do it.  And there’s nothing radical or feminist about that, any more than there’s anything inherently radical or feminist about not doing it.

I have a single small dresser drawer filled with makeup, and I’ve been eyeballing it recently because I should really pitch out and replace about 80% of it for age related reasons alone.

And thus we come to the Conspiracy palette by Shane Dawson x Jeffree Star, and also the mini palette, Lorde help me

Jesus christ, look at that.

I only buy one eyeshadow palette at a time and use it until it is gone or falls apart into dust.  The current state of the beauty industry is such that they are pressuring women and girls into buying palette after palette, some of them enormous, some small, but a grown-ass woman owning stacks of these things is not unusual anymore.  And new ones are coming out constantly-- to the point where there’s a whole part of beauty YouTube devoted to “the anti-haul”, in which people announce which makeup thing they will NOT be buying.  This is a sorry state of affairs, there’s no way around it.

I don’t collect makeup because that’s silly.  It’s a huge waste of money.  I watch otherwise sensible women hoarding vast numbers of eyeshadow palettes, and they use only one or two colors and that’s... just sad?  Apply that to the vast quantities of makeup products, to your lipsticks and glosses, to your pencils and correctors and corrector palettes and concealers and blushes and highlighters and contours and powders and foundations and primers and mattifiers and setting sprays and mascaras and a bunch of others things I forget, add a pile of false eyelashes and I don’t know, eyebrow merkins or some shit, and that’s what a well-appointed makeup afficionado is supposed to have in her arsenal.  And all those things can’t be just one-- you have to have multiples, for reasons.  But I honestly think the eyeshadow obsession is the worst, which is strange coming from me, because I adore eyeshadow.  

And yet in spite of this I have a black stand-alone eyeshadow pan, and one large palette that is cheap, made in China, not great but with a lot of weird colors in it, so I use that one when I bother, and a few pots of glitter.  My plan is to use it up or wait until it’s too old to use safely, and then pitch it/repurpose the case for something (it is literally the size of a laptop with a huge mirror in it so I can think of something), and get a new palette.  I only buy one at a time, and use it until it’s gone.  You know, like a rational person.

At first I’d decided when the time comes I’d get the Jawbreaker palette and mini, by Jeffree Star, because I loved the colors, but now I’ve changed my mind, because Shane Dawson’s not only has a case that matches my aesthetic, it also has awesome colors and, most importantly, BLACK.  I use black eyeshadow alone or to set my eyeliner, so I’m devoted.  And while all of these palettes have too many neutrals for my taste you can always use those for some kinda detail, and the Conspiracy Palette is my jam.  It’s really gorgeous.  Not gonna lie.

The documentary he made about the making of this palette is interesting on multiple levels-- there’s the process itself, which I didn’t know shit about until now.  There was the portrayal of his relationship with Jeffree, which was interesting and often pretty funny, and touching.  And from my chronic can’t stop writing feminist dissertations POV, the way women are the target of this business and yet completely sidelined was a real eyeopener.   Let me just mention this one part:

In the final episode when the palette is assembled, each pan glued into the box and then the box boxed up, there’s a song with a woman singing about how she’ll never be Prom Queen.  Shane is walking through the assembly line, emotional, because this is his project coming to fruition.  Jeffree is with him, and Shane starts crying, and Jeffree comforts him.  The song is clearly meant to be something Shane feels.

But the scene is of dozens of women, none of whom will be prom queen, none of whom are about to make millions of dollars on cosmetics, in white coats and hair protectors and goggles, busily assembling a beautiful object, which one suspects only a few of them will be able to afford for themselves though I can’t swear to that, it’s possible they are paid well, the place is unusual, Jeffree makes all his product in the United States, and I’m not inclined to jump to conclusions.  But they are anonymously and busily working, putting together this thing, meant for women, and no woman really had any functional input into this project at all.  This was, as everyone was joking, Shane and Jeffree’s baby.  A baby.  You know, the thing a man can never have.

I appreciate film making that reveals truth, even if it wasn’t intentional.

So other than that there’s not much to say.  You can watch the epic thing yourself on YouTube, it was entertaining (and good for me because I need to opt out of some of the heavier shit I’m always buried in, yet one more reason I fucking QUIT MY JOB and am now FREE,) but if you want a look into the way the business works on the indy end of the spectrum, not the old timey Cosmetics Corporations but the new one that Jeffree Star basically spearheaded and upturned large chunks of the old business model, I think this documentary is a good one for understanding exactly how marginalized women remain in a business that ostensibly is directed at us.

The reason I think women like watching men like Jeffree and Shane and whoever else do these things is because it aids and abets the lie that wearing makeup is all a choice women make.  The men are choosing, because men have zero pressure on them to do these things.  Women are taught to have affinity with men and to ignore their lack of affinity with us.  These bits of entertainment are a great brainwashing reinforcing device, to get us along for the ride, to hop in the car we never ever get to drive.  And none of it is intentional, which is the best part.  As smart as Shane is, the joy of being male is you just take things, casually, as your birthright.  You’re totally entitled to make a nine-hour epic following your friends and family, unapologetically, put it on the internet, and get accolades, including the one I’m writing right now.  You’re entitled to dictate the facts as if they contain a great truth.  You can be totally unaware of the impact your decisions have for the greater bad.  You can think you’re helping your sister-in-law through her crisis created by the very culture you are responsible for while mocking the women she blames for making her feel bad.  This set of films is a monolithic treat for a radical woman to confront.  And I hope, since there’s truth hidden in plain sight throughout, that a lot of other women and girls will see it too.  Will notice the few females scattered throughout the film, consulted in the most cursory way, knowing they have to perform or they’re replaceable.  I’m an Old, and used to seeing the real world, which has looked like this all my life.  I don’t know what a fifteen year-old will see.

Tati Westbrook also released a new eyeshadow palette last week I think, and since people think if she puts out a forty-five minute video she’s talking too much, she naturally did not film a massive docudrama showcasing her Eyeshadow Palette Journey or whatever I could imagine her saying.  Thus she was very much overshadowed by something that won’t appear for sale until tomorrow.  I have no doubt she’ll do well, but will she make twenty million dollars?  Will she do as well as she could have if she were a man?

Should anyone, off of what is essentially bullshit?   Pretty, gorgeous bullshit?  Of course not.  That’s the actual feminist conclusion, it doesn’t matter if a male or a female is profitting off of, essentially, the insecurities and desires for cool new things and to be hip and liked and looked up to, which all of us have to some extent in some arena.  I’m not immune to it either, ain’t lying again.  It’s always an unseemly pleasure to have someone half my age ask me what I’m wearing and where I got it.  Capitalism has conditioned all of us to associate material things with social acceptance and admiration, and if you are a materialist person like I am, that association comes very easily.

Anyway, that’s it, that’s the bit.  I have no doubt this thing will sell out in approximately two hours, which will happen without me because my old eyeshadow palette still works.