a-lost-duck

[a-lost-duck]

Lost in a kiss, Found in the Elevator

Damian stood outside the manor, watching as the limousine pulled up. There you were—gorgeous, even in the early morning light. He’d seen you a thousand times, but each time you arrived, his heart still skipped a beat.

He couldn’t tear his eyes away from you, until you snapped your fingers in front of him.

"Lost, Romeo?" you teased, a playful glint in your eyes.

“Tsk, I was just lost in thought,” he muttered, trying to play it cool.

“Uh-huh. And I don’t see the drool on your chin,” you shot back, grinning.

Damian froze, quickly dabbing at his lips with a handkerchief. “Tt,” he muttered, trying to maintain some dignity.

_____________________________________________________________

You both laughed, and without another word, he led you to the elevator. His hand lingered on the small of your back, guiding you inside, his touch possessive yet gentle.

The doors slid shut, and just as the elevator began to move, the lights flickered—then went out completely. The sudden darkness swallowed everything. The hum of the elevator stopped, leaving a suffocating silence.

Damian cursed under his breath. “Of course.”

You leaned into him, your body pressing just a little closer in the pitch-black space. “Perfect timing,” you whispered, your breath warm against his ear.

Before he could respond, you kissed him. It was sudden, electric—your lips crashing together with an intensity that left no room for hesitation. His hand shot to your back, pulling you against him, the heat of your body making his pulse race.

The kiss deepened, raw and desperate, both of you consumed by the moment. Damian’s fingers slid down to your hips, guiding you closer, as if the tight space of the elevator was the only place he wanted to be. His mouth moved over yours, devouring the taste of you, his hands exploring the soft curve of your back.

You responded with equal fervor, your body pressing into his, matching his intensity. The world outside didn’t exist anymore—only the press of your lips, the taste of each other, and the need to be closer.

When the lights flickered back on, neither of you broke away. The elevator resumed its slow climb, but the heat between you two remained, neither of you willing to let go.

[a-lost-duck]

AI-generated content has no place here or anywhere. It’s soulless, lacking the empathy and creativity that only humans can bring.

No matter how well it mimics, it can’t replace the depth and authenticity of true artistry. We need to hold onto and value the real, human-made creations that connect with us.

[a-lost-duck]

"Why not? A fuckin' good time never hurt nobody I got a little drink, but it's not Bacardi If you loved the girl, then I'm so, so sorry I gotta give it to her like we in a marriage"

Nah cause this song will never not hit

[a-lost-duck]

Meeting the Bat

“Yes, Father,” a collective noise rises out of the boys. Moments before, they had all been lectured by their father about ‘good behavior.’

Bruce went on, “Remember, boys, I expect you all to be on your best behavior. Not only are we attending a gala of Gotham socialites, but Damian is also arriving with his date—”

“Wait, WHAT?! The demon spawn has a DATE?!” Jason interrupted.

Bruce lets out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, for god’s sake—that’s what I’ve been going on about for the past five minutes, Jason.”

______________________________________________________________

You stand near the entrance, your arm around Damian’s as you let out a sigh.

“Nervous?” he teases.

“No… just tired.” You were lying—both of you knew it, but he decided not to comment on it. Honestly, you didn’t even want to come tonight, but on Damian’s insistence, you decided to humor him.

“It’s just… this is a really big step. That, and I can feel my social anxiety senses tingling,” you muse. Comedy has always been a sort of coping mechanism for you.

He lets out a snort. “Oh, come now, beloved. If you can deal with children on a day-to-day basis, I wouldn’t say my family is that different.”

You smile up at him, the dimples on your cheeks indenting into your skin. This was making you feel better.

Just then, Dick caught sight of the two of you. “Hey!” he waved, trying to catch your attention.

You look back at Damian, searching for one last look of reassurance.

“Damian,” Bruce acknowledges.

“Father,” Damian nods back.

Bruce then looks at you. “Bruce Wayne. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” He extends his hand for you to shake.

“It’s lovely meeting you too, sir.” You grasp his hand.

[a-lost-duck]

Officer, i dropkicked that child in self-defense

[a-lost-duck]

Your first thought about something is what you have been conditioned to think, your second thought is what you actually think. You can't trust first impressions, even one's you make - wine-and-words

[a-lost-duck]

Sometimes wine brings out words you don't want to hear but deep down you know - wine-and-words