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#also STOP acting as if french protesters are all white holy shit youre doing the propaganda for free 😭
natandacat · 1 year
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I wish “french revolution” fans (british and american) would be a little bit more fucking sensitive. And also realize that historical events are not a fandom. Anyway.
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sweeterthansammy · 3 years
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Undercover || Stucky
Steve Rogers x Fem!Reader x Bucky Barnes; The reader is Bucky and Steve’s girlfriend.
Summary: Despite their protests, Y/N goes undercover during a mission, leaving her boys astonished nonetheless.
Genre: Random
Written in third person point of view.
Warnings: Mentions of killing, mild arguing, sexual innuendos, sad Bucky (if you squint), mild language, and me using Google Translate for French dialogue :)
Word count: 2.5k+ (with translations); 2.4k+ (without translations)
A/N: I wasn’t sure as to whether or not I should put smut in it but let me know if you guys want a part two with smut! Divider made by yours truly 😌
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“You’re not going and that’s final.”
Once in a blue moon was Bucky stern with Y/N, tonight being one of those blue moons. Y/N fought and fought and fought. She wasn’t a little kid, most certainly not his, and she thought that she was making that clear. Same with Steve. It was beyond infuriating, having the two constantly babying her.
“I am going to complete that mission and you can’t stop me. Nor can you.”
She looked at Steve who seethed of irritation, big arms bulking out of the tiny black tee. As Bucky opened his mouth to protest yet again, Steve stopped him.
“Let her go. She wants to do it, so let her do it.”
He kept his eyes on her the entire time, stalking her like a predator.
“I wouldn’t be surprised if I found you in pieces,” he grumbled, crotch pressed right up to her behind with his nose nuzzled into her hair.
She scoffed, elbowing him in the ribcage before proceeding to pack her clothes. He simply chuckled, wrapping his arm around her shoulders, pulling her close to his chest once again.
“If that’s how you plan on taking anyone down that isn’t me, consider yourself dead.”
She looked back at him, eyebrows furrowing as she forced herself out of Steve’s grip.
“That’s what this about it, isn’t it? You don’t think I’m strong enough to actually anyone down.”
“No-”
“That’s exactly why you don’t want me to go!”
“We don’t want anything bad to happen to you,” Bucky interjected, looking back and forth between his two lovers.
“I don’t need either of you to watch over me like a fucking child and that’s the last time I’m reminding you,” she spoke quickly and quietly, packing the remainder of her clothing into her suitcase before zipping it up. “Now, if you don’t mind, I’ll be on my way.”
“The mission isn’t until tom-”
“I didn’t ask you,” she sung, making her way up to Nat’s floor.
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“And then Steve goes ‘if that’s how you plan on taking anyone down that isn’t me, consider yourself dead,’” she quoted Steve, deepening her voice to her best ability to mock the captain. “And then Bucky has the audacity to deny it, like, dude, I know that you’re undermining my skills!”
Natasha was dying of laughter as Y/N recited the quarrel she had found herself in with Steve and Bucky. She eased up, face red and cheeks aching as she held onto her stomach.
“Oh, jeez,” she muttered, shaking her head as she felt the laughter dying down. “I mean...it’s unbelievable. I can’t believe they still do that even after being with you for over two years. Hell, what do I know? I’ve been on and off with Clint for plenty of years and I have to yell at him for being so protective over me.”
She couldn’t help but smile at the thought of her own relationship, reflecting on the many times that she’s actually scolded Clint for babying her. He may act like a hardass around the crew, but he was far from that - he was a huge softy for Natasha.
“Thanks for letting me stay up here with you, though. I probably would’ve ended up killing them if I spent another second in there,” Y/N giggled, placing her suitcase in a corner that wouldn’t disrupt anything of Nat’s.
“Anytime,” she started, offering a lopsided smile. “Besides, we haven’t had girl time alone in forever.”
Girl time suddenly became girl time including Bucky. He was there for all of the movie-watching, doing facemasks with them, painting their nails. As much as the two girls loved Bucky with all of their hearts, they couldn’t just let loose. Natasha had to bite her tongue down to refrain from gossiping so many times just because Bucky was there.
If he heard half of the things that they spoke about, not even the latest gossip, he would more than likely be traumatized. So kicking back with Natasha, they whipped out nail kits and face masks, Nat’s huge collection of snacks, and they picked The Notebook, getting ready to spill all of the tea and unleash their younger selves for the first time in months.
Not even one full night into staying with Natasha that they were brought out of their zone, a sturdy, rhythmic knock on the door, bringing Nat to her feet.
“Don’t die,” Y/N called after her, throwing her arm over the armrest, eyes pasted to the screen.
“Natasha, I’m not stupid. I can literally smell her, she’s sitting in the living room.”
Y/N rolled her eyes, the sound of Bucky’s voice causing her to stand up from her seat and go over to the door.
“What do you want, Buck?”
“You. Come back to the room please, we’re sorry.”
“I don’t see Steve anywhere, so, you’re sorry. Bucky, go to bed, it’s late. I’ll see you on Thursday.”
Nat watched as Y/N closed the door on him, his entire demeanor slumped.
“Don’t sleep in front of the door either.”
She wasn’t going to lie, she felt guilty dismissing Bucky, but she wasn’t giving in to either of them that fast.
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Her night spent with Nat had flown by within the blink of an eye, the two girls using the power in their legs to travel up the ramp into the Quinjet. Y/N took a seat next to Nat, smiling at Sam who sat directly across from her.
“Not sitting with your lovestruck puppies?” Sam snickered, looking to his right to see them coming up the ramp. “Speaking of the devils.”
She chuckled as she shook her head. Her eyes followed Sam’s, the red rimming of Bucky’s eye bags notable. He didn’t sleep
just because she wasn’t there.
“You’re staring,” Nat muttered, gently kicking the back of Y/N’s heel with the tip of her boot.
Y/N smiled up at Bruce, who took the free seat to her left. She didn’t miss the deadly glare from Steve, shaking it off as she began to buckle herself in. The flight was quick as per usual, landing in Paris, France, in only a couple of hours. Nat couldn’t wait another second on the jet before taking off, running to the facility at which they were staying at.
“Holy shit, that’s ours?” Y/N asked, jaw hung open from pure amazement as they stood in front of the primarily glass-made building.
There were many floors to it, way more than their home base in New York. She gratefully pounced on Tony as he handed her the key to her own floor.
“Enjoy cause you won’t have it when we go back to New York,” he awkwardly pat her back, her arms becoming loose around his neck as she forgot who she was hugging for a moment.
She was so excited. Not only did she have her own privacy, but she was able to stay away from Bucky and Steve. As much as she wanted to see them, she wouldn’t break easily since she wasn’t sharing a floor with them.
Hours passed, dusk was finally closing in on them, signaling them to get ready for their mission. This was her first mission in months so it was nerve-wracking, putting the bullet-proof vest right below her button-up and slipping her feet into a pair of high heels, a garter with a knife strapped right around her thigh, nearly invisible underneath her skirt. The sound of heels clacking on the floor drew her attention from the floor-to-ceiling window in the living room.
“Are we going to a fucking seminar or a nightclub? Don’t get me wrong, you look hot, but you look like you’re ready to give a two-hour lecture.”
Y/N gasped, feigning pain as she placed her hand over her chest.
“What, it’s formal-“
“We’re going to a nightclub, not a class. You need to fit in, and I have just the thing.”
“Nat-“
“No, don’t ‘Nat’ me,” Natasha lampooned, spinning on her heels before leaving Y/N’s floor, hurrying down to her own.
She came back in less than five minutes, bunched up white fabric draped over her forearm.
“You, my friend, are going to look stunning in this. It’ll also catch the attention of your soldiers,” she added with a wink.
She in fact did look stunning in that dress. A white maxi dress with a large slit coming up to the front side of her right hip, straps keeping the dress up just off her shoulders.
“Nat, one blow of breeze and my entire vagina is exposed to French people at a nightclub.”
“Good.”
Y/N left on her strappy black heels, the straps wrapping all the way up to the skin just around the middle of her calves. They were at the club in no time, sweaty bodies, the stickiness of spilled drinks, and booming music filling the environment. The dress in fact was an eye-catcher, everyone whipping their heads around to look at Y/N. She looked like a goddess and anyone would be willing to fall at her feet, especially Bucky and Steve.
“Anyone got eyes on the target yet?”
She was dragged out of her thoughts by Stark’s voice muffled through the earpiece stuffed into her ear.
“Negative,” everyone mumbled.
Their eyes danced around the crowds, looking for none other than Georges Batroc. The clock was ticking and no sight of the man. As they waited out any chance to find him, they sipped on drinks, danced with many strangers as well as each other. Y/N’s eyes were as sharp as daggers, dodging each person until she was looking directly at the blue-eyed monster.
“Bingo,” she muttered.
She scrambled for her earpiece, holding down on the black piece that was discreetly clipped to the strap of her dress.
“I have eyes on the target. I’m moving in.”
“Be careful.”
It was Bucky. She smiled at the sound of his voice, tucking the black piece right under the fabric of her dress strap. She walked over to him confidently, chest puffed out to expose a little more cleavage as her legs stealthily moved over to the man leaning against the bar. That sick son of a bitch.
“Bonsoir, monsieur,” she greeted with a pleasant smile.
[Good evening, sir.]
“Bonsoir, colombe.”
[Good evening, dove.]
She pretended to grow flustered at the nickname, looking down at her feet. She swirled the drink in her hand before taking a tiny sip, leaning against the bar right next to Georges.
“Parlez vous anglais?”
[Do you speak English?]
“Pas beaucoup.”
[A little.]
“Ah. Je t'ai vu lĂ -bas et ça m'intĂ©ressait...un homme Ă©lĂ©gant, tout seul. Je devais venir.”
[I saw you over there and I was interested...a smart-looking man standing all alone. I had to come over.]
“Tu es trop prĂ©cieuse, colombe. Now, what do you really need? J'ai vu vos petits amis s'occuper de moi aussi.”
[You’re too precious, dove. I saw your little friends looking out for me too.]
“Vraiment un homme intelligent, non?” she paused, her eyes locking with Steve’s. “Ils pourraient facilement vous dĂ©chirer directement du trou du cul et vous laisser crier Ă  l'aide, mais ce sont de bonnes personnes. Nous ne cherchons que des fils de putes comme vous. Alors donnez-nous ce dont nous avons besoin ou nous le ferons Ă  la dure.”
[Indeed a smart man, aye? They could easily rip you apart right from the asshole and leave you crying out for help but they're good people. We only go after sons of bitches like you. So give us what we need or we'll do this the hard way.]
“C'est ce que tu veux?”
[This what you want?]
“You know damn well that that’s what I want,” she said through a fake chuckle as he held a silver key right above her head.
“Demandez-le gentiment.”
[Ask for it nicely.]
She scoffed, “Qu'es-tu? Mon pùre?”
[What are you? My father?]
He chuckled at her snarky remark, his hand remaining above her head.
“Ask for it.”
“Je suis un agent. Pas un super-hĂ©ros. Ça ne me pas d'avoir un peu de sang sur mes mains, chĂ©rie.”
[I'm an agent. Not a superhero. I don't mind getting a little blood on my hands, honey.]
“Pas si je mets ton sang sur mes mains en premier.”
[Not if I get your blood on my hands first.]
“Bien essayĂ©.”
[Nice try.]
Those were the last words she said to him before exposing her thigh, pulling the knife from under her garter, and sending it straight through the skin hovering over his jugular vein. She watched as the blood seeped out of his neck, creating a deep wound in his neck as she dragged her knife down, almost as if she were cutting through a piece of meat, which she technically was. She gave him a knee to the sack before snatching the keys from in between his fingertips.
“Fais de beaux rĂȘves, homme intelligent.”
[Sweet dreams, smart man.]
She winked as his figure slowly dropped to the ground, his hands tight around his throat to succumb to the bleeding. She looked around, seeing bodyguards, most likely his, making their way over to him. She fled into the crowd, a pair of hands falling onto her hips before spinning her around.
“That was so fucking hot,” Steve whispered, ferociously kissing her as if he would never get to do so again.
Her bloodied hand left a trace over Steve’s chest, clad in a tight white button-up. Her hands felt up on his skin, slipping the keys into his back pocket as their tongues continued to dance around each other.
“Y/N? Y/N? Why are you breathing so heavy? Oh my god, is she dead?”
She pulled away from Steve, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth.
“No, Stark. I’m not dead. I got the key to the chamber and I killed the bitch.”
“You killed him!?”
She walked hand in hand with Steve, his muscular figure trailing behind her. She was attacked with hugs almost immediately, Nat rambling about how good Y/N did.
“And she speaks French!? Why did I not know this!?” Sam asked, agreeing with Nat as to how amazing Y/N performed.
Y/N was overjoyed. Back on her first mission and she did it, leaving unscathed. She looked around, Bucky leaning against a booth with one arm in his pocket and the other holding a drink, most likely his metal arm as a sliver of it peeked from under his leather jacket. She let go of Steve’s hand for a moment, shimmying past anyone in her way over to the super soldier.
Her hands rested on either side of his neck as his fell to her behind. He tasted like fresh whiskey, his tongue rolling into her mouth, their lips creating a sloppy mess. Their teeth clashed as Y/N’s arms engulfed Bucky’s head, fingers getting lost in his near-shoulder length hair as he hoisted one leg above his hip. Flipping them around so she was being pressed up against the wooden divider of the booth, his thumb circled her hip, completely exposing her right leg as it snuck past the large slit.
“Fuck, hearing you speak French does some shit to me.”
“Ramùne-moi dans ta chambre et baise-moi stupide.”
[Take me back to your room and fuck me stupid.]
“Gladly, dove.”
The voice in both her and Bucky’s ears caused them to look back, Steve nodding his head in the direction of the door.
Taglist: @ronbrokemyheart @quxxnxfhxll @eunoia-kth @siriuslyslyslytherin @dracomalfoys-wh0re @rudypankowisdaddy
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inky-duchess · 4 years
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21 History Ancedotes for my 21st Birthday
So today I celebrate my 21st birthday and I have decided to gift you all with 21 of my favourite historical Ancedotes. Some are funny, some are sad and some are plain bizarre but I hope the make your day 💜
Mary Maloney, an Irish-born suffragette in England followed Winston Churchill around while he was campaigning for a seat in Parliament, drowning out everything he said with a very large bell and calls for him to apologise for his comments on women's rights and suffrage movements.
Clodius Pulcher was a well born Roman noble during the last day's of the Republic. He gave up his Patrician status to become Tribune of the Plebs (an office in which one had to be a Pleb) by being adopted by a much younger Plebian man who became his "father". Clodius was a bit of a riot, sneaking into religious festivals dressed like a woman to sleep with Caesar's wife, building a shrine to Liberty in the ruins of the Conservative Cicero, vetoed the last speech of one of the Consuls (who basically did nothing all year and was apparently going to roast Caesar) and burned down the Senate House with his funeral pyre (the Plebs who loved him literally tearing up the furniture to build his pyre). He was honestly the best fun.
When laying on her deathbed, Queen Caroline of Ansbach turned to her husband George II of England and told him he should marry again. George refused to ever wed again... But added he would have mistresses. Caroline said , likely with a roll of her eyes, "oh my god that doesn't matter."
Florence was a pretty cool city in the Renaissance until Savanorola came to town. He disliked the loose living artists that crowded the city, with their naked pagan gods and rampant homosexuality. He expelled them all with help of the French hoping to make Florence Holy Again. When the Borgia Pope excommunicated him and sentenced him to death, one man in the crowd was reported to have said. "thank God, niw we can return to sodomy." One Floretine man in the 1490s said Gay Rights.
So this list couldn't be complete without an entry of the only American politician I love, Alexander Hamilton who was just a walking entity of sass. I could go on about his sharp sarcasm or his disaster bi vibes with John Lauren's but my all time favourite Alexander Hamilton ancedote has to be this exchange with Thomas Jefferson "There are approximately 1010300 words in the English language, but I could never string enough words together to properly explain how much I want to hit you with a chair."
Caterina Sforza was an Italian noble woman during the Renaissance. She was apart of the powerful Sforza family, which drew many enemies to her. One fateful day at Forli, Caterina's children were snatched as hostages. The besiegers threatened to kill her children if she did not cede the castle. Caterina refused, lifting her skirts and shouted to the besiegers that she had the means to make more children.
Hannibal Lecter's creator Thomas Harris was happy to end his great character's story with the original trilogy. However his publishers forced him to write an unneeded prequel explaining why Hannibal became Hannibal. Thomas Harris agreed lest he lose the rights to his character so he wrote Hannibal Rising, where Hannibal as a young man hunts down the Nazis who ate his sister with a katana.
Nell Gwyn is my favourite mistress of Charles II, mainly because of her sass. Once while trapped in the middle of a riot where Londoners swamped her carriage thinking she was Charles's Catholic mistress. She popped her head out the carriage and told the people "Pray good people be civil. I am the Protestant whore." She also dosed her rival Moll Davis with laxatives in order to free up some of Charles's time and she once flashed her underwear at the French ambassador after asking him why the Franch King did not pay her to spy on Charles because she was with him every night. A true Queen.
Emperor Ai of the Han Dynasty of China once rose from his bed to go do some ruling when he realised his lover, Dong Xian was sleeping on his sleeve. Rather than disturb his lover, the Emperor cut his sleeve off at the wrist to leave Dong Xian nap. Nothing has ever been more romantic than that. Y'all could never.
Princess Margaret the sister of current Queen Elizabeth II was a socialable Princess and often tasked to visit the up and coming music stars of the day on behalf of the Crown. When meeting the Beatles one evening, she noticed George Harrison was acting a little odd. When she asked what was the matter, he replied "We arent allowed eat until you go." Princess Margaret laughed and promptly left so the Beatles could get some dinner.
During the Siege of Jadotsville, Irish soldiers under the flag of the UN were attacked and besieged by local insurgents allied with the Katanga Regime. The insurgents numbered thousands while the Irish only had 158 soldiers, all who were lightly armed. They radioed to their allies assuring them that "we will hold out until our last bullet is spent. Could use some whiskey though".
Napoleon was famous for writing raunchy letters to his wife, the Empress Josephine while he was away. She used to reply with really mundane letters or not at all. She really just could not be bothered with him.
Josip Broz Tito was so fed up with Joseph Stalin sending assassins to kill him, he wrote to Stalin personally to say "If you don't stop sending assassins to kill me. I will send one to Moscow and I won't have to send another." It didn't work but Big Dick Energy.
Successful Roman soldiers returning from war often got to march along in parades known as Triumphs. During this, it was customary for them to sing bawdy songs about their commander. One surviving one about Caesar goes like this "Romans, lock up your wives. Here comes the bald adulterous whore. We pissed away your gold in Gaul and come to borrow more."
Matilda, Lady of the English was a woman so badass that history cannot handle her. She was the daughter of Henry I who left his throne to her after the death of her brother. She was away in France when her father died and her throne was snatched by her cousin Stephen. They battled back and forth for years with neither side ceding any ground. Matilda was once besieged in a castle during a snow storm, with Stephen's men all around her. Instead of fighting her way out. She simply donned a white cloak and walked out of the castle. Just walked out without any of Stephen's men seeing her.
Pedro of Portugal once fell in love with a beautiful lady in waiting called Inez de Castro. For years, they lived as man and mistress, popping out a few kinds. Pedro's dad really did not like Inez and wanted Pedro to find a legitimate wife so he had her killed. Pedro returned home to find the mother of his children dead. Pedro went a little crazy. He had all his father's assassins killed, ripping out their hearts as they had done to him. When Pedro ascended the throne, he demanded the Pope legitimize his children by Inez. The Pope not wanting to upset the King, said he couldn't because Inez was never crowned Queen. Pedro dug Inez up and crowned her as Queen, having all the nobility swear loyalty to her corpse. The Pope had no choice but to agree to his request.
A famously clever general once saved an entire city with an ingenious stragety to sit outside the city waiting for the attacking army to come. The attack had come to fast for the city to ready themselves for a Siege so, the general had to move quickly. He evacuated the city and took his place waiting for the army to come. The enemy forces stopped and took one look at him and bolted, thinking he meant to lure them in one of his famous traps.
Michaelangelo was really badly treated by the Vatican when he was painting the Sistine Chapel. He constantly fought with the Popes over the design and his work, which he was paid peanuts for. Michaelangelo got his revenge in his work, painting the gates of Hell behind the Papal Throne and an angel flipping the ol' fig (the Renaissance version of the bird) toward the Pope's chair.
Peter the Great was not a perfect guy. He kept serfdom as a practise in his kingdom, he had his son tortured to death and he could be an unpleasant guy. But Peter was a dreamer. He wanted nothing more to build a fleet for Russia and bring Russia beyond its borders. Peter took a gap year from ruling Russia to wander around Europe. When he stopped in England, he was granted Leicester House to chill in while he did his shipwright studies. It was here that Peter found a new passion. The wheelbarrow. Cue Peter and his new found English buddies drinking in Leicester House, punching the artwork and rolling each other around in barrels across the house's Great gardens.
Diogenes is hands down a walking shit post. He was a great thinker in Greece during the reign of Alexander but a rather dry, sarcastic wit. He lived in a pithos/a jar because he shunned all vanities and values of society. He trolled other philosophers, attending their debates to heckle them and eat loud foods through them. When Alexander the Great came to fan boy over him, saying that if he were not Alexander he would like to be Diogenes to which Diogenes just said "yeah me too, now get out of my sunlight."
Cosimo de Medici was the son of a Floretine banker with a great knowledge and love of art. Cosimo wished for Florence to release its potentially and join the Renaissance. He hired Filippo Brunelleschi to finsh the Great Dome of Santa Maria del Fiore which had lĂĄin unfinished for over a century, a symbol of a failure of ambition. The builders had lost the knowledge of creating a dome so large so it remained unfinished. Despite much opposition from the other nobility and denouncers of the Renaissance, Cosimo's dream of the completion of the dome was completed, making it the largest brick dome in creation at that time. There is nothing like achieving your dreams and certainly nothing like leaving a lasting reminder that screams 'I was right and you were wrong' to stand for centuries.
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vanillacoffee-bean · 4 years
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Daminette December - Day 1: Just a Friend
It’s been a while since I’ve written anything (whether I share it with anyone or not), and I think posting my stuff will help get me into the habit of writing more.
I know Daminette December is more focused on the romantic relationship between Marinette and Damian, but in this one-shot they have a completely platonic relationship. This is fluff without any relationship development, I’ll have more of that for the other prompts. I love this ship so fucking much! Please let me know what you think.
I also couldn’t resist giving Marinette a coffee addiction like mine :)
Warning: contains swearing
@daminette-december2019
===============
The click of a door locking could be heard through the halls as Marinette walked towards the exit. She was in Gotham, more specifically she was leaving the dorm house to start her day at Gotham University. Marinette was around 21 years old and had a round face, pale skin and bright blue eyes. Her shoulder length hair was currently left down in soft waves.  
“Come on, Marinette!” Her roommate, Hazel, called out. Hazel looked to also be around 21 with olive-toned skin, amber eyes and long brown hair that was in a side french braid.
“It’s too early! Class doesn’t start for another half hour! Let me grab some coffee! There’s a cafĂ© a few blocks away. Hazel, I know you want to see your girlfriend, but can you let go?” Marinette asked dramatically as Hazel lead, more like dragged, her through the school. The two sat down at one of the benches in the hallway. Marinette took out her sketchbook and started drawing.
A few minutes passed with Marinette and Hazel talking about their plans for winter break before debating on why coffee is important. “But Hazel! I can’t live without coffee!”
“Then it’s a good thing I brought you some.” A voice said, coming from in front of the two girls. Marinette knew who it was without having to look up.
“Damian!” Marinette smiled, closing her sketch book and putting it back in her bag.
“You need to stop drinking so much coffee, Angel. You’re starting to remind me of my brother. He can’t go a day without it.” He said. Marinette simply huffed in response.
“I’ll see you after classes, Marinette!” Hazel called out before she ran over to her girlfriend.
“It’s black, just the way you like it.” Damian said, sitting down next to her and handing her a thermos.
“Black like my soul.” She replied, taking a sip. She let out a satisfied hum as the coffee’s warmth spread through her body.
“Hey! Leave the dark depressing stuff to me! You already have your puns!” The reason why Marinette loved puns so much was because they reminded her of Chat Noir from when they fought together against Hawkmoth in Paris. She found that the puns kept him closer to her.
He died in the final battle. That was also when she discovered that he was also her boyfriend, Adrien Agreste.
After she returned her earrings to The Guardian of the Miraculous, she left Paris, unable to deal with the constant reminders of each and every fight. She and her parents had a bit of a falling out when she asked to move to Gotham, but they supported her none the less. That was about 3-4 years ago.
Now she was in the middle of her third year at Gotham University, studying for a degree in business and doing an online fashion design course. She worked in a small cafĂ© after school and all-day on Saturday, and had found new friends, created new memories with the hope that one day all of these new positive experiences would cancel out the negatives. She’s learned how to mask her pain and has hidden her grief deep within her.
She still had nightmares of course, almost every night. Everybody does. But that doesn’t make seeing one of your best friends die over and over again any easier.
“You can’t fool me Dames. Behind your cold and hard and rude and arrogant—”
“I get it, Angel! I’m not the easiest person to get along with!” Damian interrupted.
“—and pushy exterior, I know you like me a latte.” They sat in silence for a few seconds.
“That was so bad.” He said.
“It was, wasn’t it?” Marinette completely agreed.
“You normally do so much better.”
“I do, don’t I?” The two immediately started laughing.
“Oh. My. God.” A man a few steps away from them said, “Holy shi—Alfred was right!” He was tall and well-built with black hair that had a white streak through it. Surprise was evident in his blue eyes.
Damian took a deep breath in, closing his eyes while doing so, before opening them and turning towards the man. “You should already know that Alfred is always right. Always. What are you doing here, Todd?” The hostility was clear in Damian’s tone.
“I overheard Alfred talking to Bruce about inviting your friend over. The friend that you’ve told us, your brothers, nothing about, and yet told Bruce and Alfred everything about.” He explained. Damian raised an eyebrow, letting him continue. “So, I volunteered to come over and invite her to the manor for dinner this Friday.”
“Sure. That’s sounds nice. Anything specific that I should wear?” Marinette asked. Damian stared in horror at his brother.
“No! You shouldn’t go!” Damian protested but was ignored.
“Nothing too fancy or too casual and you should be fine miss
?” He paused.
“Marinette.” She said.
“Okay, Marinette. I’m Jason, but Demon Spawn over here refuses to call me anything but ‘Todd.’ It looks like class is about to start. See you in a few days!” Jason called out as he left the building. The bell rung and the two young adults headed to the first class of the day.
--
“She got him to laugh, Bruce! That’s not fucking normal! And the way he looks at her! It’s like she’s his whole god damn world! And she looks at him the same!”
“Wait! Baby Bird has a girlfriend? Like, an actual girlfriend?”
“It appears so, but it’s also highly possible that he hasn’t asked her out yet due to the fact that he’s probably not used to feeling love. Has anyone seen my coffee mug?”
“Holy shit! That poor soul
 And Timmy? You need to stop drinking so much coffee! It’s not good for you.”
“I don’t drink too much coffee!”
“I know right! She’s too pure and innocent to be corrupted by him! But you should have seen it, Dick! Marinette has somehow gotten him to act his fucking age! It must be magic. That’s the only possible explanation. Or the world’s ending.”
“Jason, is she coming next week?”
“Yes, Bruce, but that’s not of any damn importance right now. We first need to fucking figure out what hell has happened to Demon Spawn! I’m betting a hundred dollars they’ll be dating in the next two weeks.”
“Two hundred they’re already dating!”
“One fifty they get together before Valentine’s Day!”
--
‘God, why did the dinner have to be today? Why couldn’t it have been next week!’ Damian thought as he stepped out of the car with Marinette. She was wearing black tights, a pastel pink skirt, a white turtle neck sweater, and black converse. Her hair was curled and in a half updo.
Alfred opened the door smiling. “Welcome Miss Marinette, Master Damian. I am Alfred, the butler.”
“We all know your family Alfred.” Drake said, walking into the hall. He reached out his hand in front of Marinette saying, “I’m Tim.”
“Marinette. Pleasure to meet you.” She said as she shook his hand, briefly letting go of Damian’s hand before reconnecting them. Unfortunately for Damian, this gesture didn’t go unnoticed by Tim.
Suddenly a squeal was heard echoing as Grayson ran up to them. “You’re a literal angel, Marinette! How is that possible when you’re with Mr. Grumpy over here?” Grayson exclaimed as he pointed to Damian, who openly glared at him. “Oh! I’m Dick!”
“Nice to meet you.” Marinette replied.
“Come. Dinner is served.” Alfred said.
--
“So, Marinette, what’s it like to be dating a demon?” Jason said as the family started to eat dessert. Unlike what they expected, Marinette just burst out laughing while Damian was clearly trying to suppress his laugher.
“You think we’re dating?” Marinette asked after she got her breathing under control.
“Yes?” Dick, Jason, Tim, and Bruce all answered at the same time. This was when Damian started laughing. Everyone was frozen in shock at the sound.
“You got it all wrong. Damian and I are just friends.” Marinette explained.
“Strictly platonic.” Damian added. “Dating? Us? What gave you that stupid idea?” They both started laughing again.
Alfred quietly muttered “For now...”
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