Go Trick or Treating

Raven offered a single, flat, unyielding shake of her head. "No," she said, her voice dropping into a low, deadpan monotone that left absolutely zero room for negotiation. She gave the waistband of her microscopic red devil skirt another desperate down-tug, though the stiff, crimson synthetic fabric stubborn resisted, clinging tightly to the generous expanse of her hips and leaving the plush lower curve of her bubble butt thoroughly exposed to the cool October air. "We are not going to the Tower, Starfire. I am not spending my Halloween watching Cyborg accidentally set the sound system on fire while Beast Boy tries to slip novelty plastic eyeballs into my drink."

Starfire blinked her luminous, vivid green eyes, adjusting the delicate white halo sitting slightly askew on her head. She gave a casual, graceful shrug of her athletic, orange-tinted shoulders, a simple motion that sent a dramatic, mesmerizing tremor straight through her upper body. Her cheap white angel top—stretched so thin across her towering, voluptuous frame that the fabric was virtually translucent—creaked loudly at the seams, her massive, soft breasts bouncing heavily beneath the fragile constraints. "Very well, friend Raven! If it is the harvest of sweets you desire, then the streets shall be our domain!"

Leaving the bright, fluorescent glare of Spook-tacular Savings behind them, the two Titans stepped out into the crisp, electric twilight of Jump City. The autumn wind blew through the neon-lit avenues, carrying the rich scents of roasting chestnuts, fried dough, and pumpkin spice, but for Raven and Starfire, the simple act of navigating the public thoroughfare had instantly transformed into a high-stakes battle of sartorial maintenance. Every stride required a precise, carefully calculated coordination of limb movement and fabric adjustment to prevent a catastrophic, full-blown wardrobe malfunction right on the pavement.

As they began their stroll toward the residential sector, their contrasting physiques demanded entirely different strategies of containment. Starfire walked with her long, sun-kissed legs taking proud, sweeping steps, her tall frame naturally commanding the skyline. However, her upper body was a powder keg of kinetic tension. The white "Heavenly Hottie" tube top possessed practically no structural integrity; stripped of straps or supportive boning, it relied entirely on raw elastic tension to pin her immense, pillowy bosom against her ribcage. With every step, the sheer weight and natural, plush bounce of her chest caused the white band to creep agonizingly downward, millimeter by millimeter.

To compensate, Starfire was forced to keep her slender, orange arms pinned awkwardly to her sides, using her forearms as makeshift barricades to hold the fabric up. Her expansive cleavage—a deep, endless valley of smooth, golden-tan skin—heaved and quivered with every breath she drew, drawing breathless, open-mouthed stares from passing groups of college students disguised as vampires, ancient warriors, and other pop culture characters Starfire was unfamiliar with.

"Do you possess knowledge of which specific residential sectors distribute the most elite confections?" Starfire inquired, tilting her head toward her companion. Her long, flowing mane of hot pink hair swept across her shoulders in a radiant wave, catching the flickering orange streetlights and framing her cheerful, unbothered smile.

Beside her, Raven was fighting an entirely subterranean war against gravity and inadequate tailoring. Where Starfire struggled from the waist up, Raven’s entire predicament was anchored firmly below her beltline. Her pale-white skin stood in stark, dramatic contrast to the fiery, sequined red of her "Sultry Sin-Devil" ensemble. The sequined corset top squished her modest, firm chest into a neat V-shape, but the matching ruffled skirt was an absolute disaster of dimensions. It was a minuscule strip of scarlet fabric, edging black faux-fur, designed for someone with a completely flat silhouette.

On Raven, whose wide, sculpted hips, thick thighs, and famously voluminous, rounded posterior defied all standard sizing charts, the skirt was stretched to the absolute breaking point. Every single step she took caused her thick, pale thighs to rub together, creating a rhythmic friction that pulled the hemline upward like a rolled shade. Her rather bubbly rear, firm and remarkably curvaceous, glided and jiggled aggressively beneath the thin red material, causing the sequined fabric to buckle and gap, exposing flash after flash of her milky-white skin to the streetlights.

"I don't know the exact house numbers," Raven grumbled, her pale hands perpetually hooked into the waistband of the red skirt, violently yanking it downward every five seconds only for it to snap back up over the apex of her buttocks the moment she moved forward again. "But the historic district on the East Hill is where the old-money residents live. If we want actual, legitimate king-sized bars instead of pathetic, bite-sized samples that taste like cardboard, that's where we need to go. We just have to make it up the incline without this skirt migrating up to my armpits."

"A most sound strategy!" Starfire beamed. She took a slightly wider stride to cross a curb, but the sudden elevation shift caused her massive, soft chest to leap upward. The white tube top slipped a fraction of an inch further down, exposing the rounded tops of her golden-hued aureoles for a terrifying split-second before she instinctively clamped her elbows to her ribs, catching her top just in the nick of time. "Whoa! The celestial garments are demonstrating a most treacherous lack of friction!"

"Tell me about it," Raven muttered, her pale cheeks burning a deep, mortified crimson as she felt a cool gust of wind sweep directly across her fully exposed lower cheeks. She did a awkward, sideways shuffle to shimmy the skirt back down over her wide hips. "If anyone asks, I'm wearing red shorts underneath this. Even though I'm not."

They turned onto the tree-lined avenues of the East Hill historic district, where grand, Victorian-style brownstones were draped in intricate faux cobwebs, glowing Jack-o'-lanterns, and atmospheric purple floodlights. The sidewalks were bustling with adult trick-or-treaters enjoying the city's famous annual evening. However, as the two heroines began approaching the porches to collect their sweet rewards, the stark physical disparity between them transformed the candy hunt into a hilarious, soul-crushing exercise in social injustice for Raven.

At the very first decorated brownstone, a pair of frat brothers in unbuttoned football jerseys were manning a massive wooden bowl filled to the brim with chocolate. Starfire was the first to step up the stone steps, her towering presence instantly casting a long shadow over the porch.

"Greetings, fellow celebrants of the autumn night!" Starfire chirped happily. As she spoke, she reached out with both hands to hold up her bright green, plastic pumpkin bucket.

The motion was fatal to the internal peace of the two young men. Lifting her arms caused her already desperate white angel top to shoot downward by an entire inch, unleashing her immense, pillowy bosom into full, magnificent display. Her soft, heavy breasts bulged dramatically over the flimsy white trim, quivering with an astonishing, elastic elasticity that left both frat brothers instantly paralyzed, their jaws dropping in synchronized, stunned silence.

"Uh... w-woah," the bro on the left choked out, his eyes completely locked onto the golden expanse of Starfire's cleavage. His hands trembled as he reached into the bowl, completely ignoring the smaller treats, and pulled out two massive, eight-inch, extra-thick King-Sized Crunch Bars. "Happy... happy Halloween, angel lady. Take... take whatever you want."

"Oh! You are most extraordinarily bountiful!" Starfire gasped, her eyes lighting up with genuine delight. She did a joyous little bounce on the balls of her feet, which sent her unbound, massive endowments into a rhythmic, undulating sway that caused the second frat brother to drop his plastic cup directly onto his shoe. "Look, Raven! They are giving the bars of exceptional length!"

Raven stepped up to the porch railing a second later, her face set in a dark, brooding scowl as she held out her own green pumpkin. Her pale skin practically glowed under the porch lights, and her wide hips swayed as she tried to keep her micro-skirt from riding up completely over her thick, plush thighs.

The frat brother on the right snapped out of his trance for a fraction of a second, glanced down at Raven's shorter frame, completely missed her curvaceous lower body because he was still reeling from Starfire's display, and casually reached to the very bottom of the bucket. He pulled out a single, microscopic, square Fun-Sized Mounds bar—a sad little lump of coconut—and dropped it into Raven's bucket with a dull thud.

"Here ya go, dark fairy," he said absently, his eyes already swinging straight back to Starfire's heaving chest.

Raven stared down into her pumpkin bucket. She looked at the single, pathetic square of candy, then looked up at the guy with crimson flames practically dancing in her dark eyes. "Dark fairy? It's a devil costume. And this candy isn't even large enough to satisfy a field mouse."

"One per customer, shorty," the guy muttered, not even looking her in the eye.

Gritting her teeth so hard her jaw ached, Raven turned around and stomped down the stone steps, her heavy steps causing her rounded, thick bubble butt to bounce and jiggle fiercely against the tight red sequined fabric of her skirt, drawing a chorus of appreciative whistles from a group of guys waiting on the sidewalk below.

At the fourth house, the scenario repeated itself with brutal consistency. The homeowner—a middle-aged man dressed as a pirate—nearly fell off his own porch as Starfire leaned over slightly to offer her bucket. The angle offered a direct, utterly unobstructed, top-down view straight down the front of her straining white tube top, showcasing the vast, soft expanse of her golden-tan chest. Spellbound, the man practically forced three thick, heavy King-Sized Reese's Fast Breaks and a giant 12-Inch Toblerone bar into Starfire's bucket.

When Raven held up her bucket, the man didn't even break eye contact with Starfire's chest as he blindly tossed a single, paper-wrapped Miniature Smarties Roll into Raven's container.

By the time they reached the middle of the eighth block, the physical contrast between their two buckets was absurd. Starfire’s plastic pumpkin was an absolute war zone of high-end, heavy chocolate, with thick, ten-inch king-sized bars sticking straight out like a wooden palisade. Raven’s bucket, despite her endless walking and agonizing wardrobe struggles, contained a pathetic, shallow layer of bite-sized wrappers, three hard peppermint candies, and a single, soul-crushing box of sun-dried raisins.

Raven came to a dead halt directly beneath a flickering streetlamp. Her pale hands flew to her hips, her dark eyes narrowing into dangerous crimson slits as she glared at Starfire’s overflowing golden haul.

Starfire stopped beside her, reaching gracefully into her bucket to pull out an enormous, thick, ten-inch King-Sized Butterfinger. "My goodness, Raven!" Starfire marveled, her voice filled with pure, unadulterated wonder. "The male inhabitants of this district are extraordinarily generous! Look at how remarkably long, thick, and rigid these chocolate bricks are! They seem so intensely eager to bestow their largest and most substantial sweets upon me!"

Raven let out a sharp, ragged breath, her pale cheeks flushing a fiery, furious pink. She took two deliberate steps forward, closing the distance between them until she was standing right in Starfire's personal space.

"They aren't giving you those because they're 'generous,' Starfire!" Raven snapped, her voice a sharp, whisper-hiss of pure exasperation. She raised a pale, slender index finger and jabbed it forcefully directly into the center of Starfire's soft, exposed cleavage, poking the pillowy, sun-kissed flesh right where her angel top was barely holding on. "They are giving you those massive bars because they literally cannot stop staring at these!"

Starfire blinked her massive, jewel-like green eyes in total, unblemished confusion. She looked down at her chest, where Raven's finger had left a tiny, temporary pale indentation in her warm orange skin. She gently placed both of her hands over her massive breasts, patting them with an innocent, gentle rhythm that caused both soft mounds to jiggle and sway heavily beneath the thin white fabric.

"My... my lungs?" Starfire asked softly, her voice dripping with genuine, heartfelt curiosity. "They are demonstrating such deep admiration for the internal respiratory organs of my Tamaranian anatomy? Is the lung capacity of an alien warrior considered a metric of great romantic favor during the Earth harvest?"

Raven froze. Her hand remained extended in mid-air, her jaw hanging slightly open as she searched Starfire's face for even a single shred of sarcasm, teasing, or irony. But there was none. Starfire’s expression was entirely sweet, innocent, and completely earnest.

Raven slowly pulled her hand back. She placed her pale palm flat against her own face, dragging it down slowly in a gesture of absolute, soul-crushing defeat.

"Yes, Star fire," Raven groaned, her voice muffled through her pale fingers. "Your 'lungs.' They are deeply, profoundly moved by your incredible ability to process oxygen. It's truly a medical miracle."

"I had no idea Earthlings held human organs in such high regard!" Starfire giggled happily, her entire upper body vibrating with innocent cheer, sending her massive breasts into another hypnotic, undulating bounce. She tucked her giant Butterfinger back into her bucket. "Perhaps I should take deeper, more dramatic breaths as we approach the next dwelling, so as to show them even greater respect for my respiratory system!"

"If you take a deeper breath, that top is going to snap, and we're going to end up on a local news broadcast," Raven grumbled, desperately yanking her devil skirt down over her thick thighs as a cool autumn breeze whipped around the corner. "Your 'lungs' have already caused enough chaos for one night."

Before Starfire could offer another innocent observation regarding human anatomy, a wild, deafening roar of laughter, catcalls, and screaming erupted from the main intersection just fifty yards ahead of them. The sound of dozens of smartphone camera shutters clicking in rapid succession echoed off the surrounding brick buildings, accompanied by the frantic cheering of a massive, crowded ring of spectators.

"Yeah! Get it, girl! Show 'em what you got!" a guy dressed as a medieval knight bellowed, waving his plastic goblet in the air.

"Put it on the group chat! Send it to the Guys! Send it to everyone!" a woman in a vampire cape shrieked with hysterical laughter.

Curious, Starfire floated a few inches off the pavement, her long orange legs dangling as she peered over the dense wall of partygoers. Raven used a tiny, subtle flick of her dark telekinetic energy to gently part the crowd, slipping through the gap like a shadow until both heroines reached the front row of the spectacle.

What met their eyes in the middle of the street was a scene of unhinged, absolute holiday madness.

Streaking at full sprint down the asphalt—wearing absolutely nothing except a pair of glaringly bright, neon-white athletic running sneakers—was a girl with glowing green skin and a mane of long, fiery red hair. Her body was completely, utterly naked. Her proportions were jaw-droppingly lush; her soft, full, and impossibly round breasts were practically larger than Starfire’s, bouncing violently and wildly with every rapid, desperate stride she took across the pavement. Her bare, sculpted hips swayed rhythmically, and her smooth, emerald-toned backside was fully exposed to the cold night air, jiggling with every step.

Her face was a bright, burning shade of deep crimson, her eyes wide with a hilarious, chaotic mix of intense, mortified embarrassment and an undeniable, adrenaline-fueled thrill. She was desperately trying to cover herself as she ran—one green arm clamped tightly across her massive, wildly bouncing chest, while her other hand made a completely futile attempt to shield her lush lower body, failing miserably as her curvaceous frame glided past the roaring crowd.

Walking casually about ten paces behind her, looking utterly relaxed and enjoying every single second of the spectacle, was a girl wearing a remarkably authentic Artemis Crock costume but recolored to be black and orange—complete with a sleek orange archer’s tunic, leather shoulder pads, and a compound bow slung over her back. But instead of an arrow, this girl was holding up a high-end smartphone, recording the naked green girl in glorious 4K resolution while laughing uncontrollably.

"Keep those feet moving, Marvin The Martian!" the girl in the Artemis costume shouted, her voice easily carrying over the roar of the crowd. "The bet clearly stated three full city blocks! You're only halfway through block two! The girls group chat is absolutely losing its mind right now!"

"Please! Stop recording! Haven't I Suffered Enough From Loosing The Game" the naked green-skinned girl squealed, her voice high-pitched and breathless as she sprinted past a fire hydrant, her huge, soft breasts swaying dramatically from side to side. "People are taking photos! They're throwing things at me!"

"They aren't throwing trash! They're throwing tribute!" The Artemis costumed girl cackled back, holding up a giant plastic pumpkin bucket in her free hand.

Indeed, the crowd of cheering adult trick-or-treaters was actively showering the naked green streaker with high-end holiday loot. Massive, king-sized candy bars were raining down onto the asphalt like a golden hail storm. A guy dressed as a gladiator hurled an enormous, ten-ounce King-Sized Hershey's Bar straight through the air. It bounced softly off the naked girl's lush, emerald hip before tumbling onto the street. Artemis casually stepped forward, scooped the giant bar off the ground with practiced ease, and dropped it into her overflowing bucket.

"Thank you, Jump City!" Artemis yelled to the crowd, raising her bucket high like a trophy. "Your generous donations to the streak are accepted! Keep 'em coming!"

Starfire stood on the curb, her bright green eyes wide as saucers as she took in the wild scene. Her jaw was slightly slack, her long, hot pink hair fluttering in the breeze created by the running crowd.

"By X'Hal!" Starfire gasped, turning to Raven with an expression of pure, unadulterated astonishment. Her sudden movement caused her white angel top to slip down another terrifying fraction, exposing a breathtaking expanse of her golden chest before she caught herself. "Raven, observe! That female is traversing the public thoroughfare in a state of absolute, unclad nudity! Is this yet another sacred tradition of the adult Earth Halloween?"

Raven stared at the streaker, her dark eyes narrowing into sharp, analytical slits. She looked at the glowing green skin, which possessed a natural, warm luminescence that no body paint on Earth could ever replicate. Then she looked at the girl in the archer costume—taking in the perfect athletic posture, the flawless execution of her stride, and the unmistakable, razor-sharp focus in her eyes.

"Star," Raven said slowly, her voice dropping into a low, serious whisper. "That isn't just a random college girl in body paint. That's M'gann M'orzz—Miss Martian—and the real Artemis Crock from that Young Justice squad, or whatever they call themselves now"

Starfire gasped, her hands flying to her mouth—a move that instantly threatened to release her massive breasts from her top, forcing her to quickly cross her forearms over her chest again. "Your Friends? Miss Martian is partaking in the public streaking? Oh, we must immediately go over and offer our greetings! Perhaps we can render assistance or inquire about the nature of this bizarre ritual!"

Starfire made a sudden, eager move to step off the curb, her long, athletic orange legs preparing to stride straight into the middle of the street.

"Wait! Star, stop!" Raven hissed, reaching out with a pale hand and catching Starfire firmly by her slender wrist, yanking her back into the shadowy safety of a nearby oak tree.

"Why do you hinder my approach, Friend Raven?" Starfire asked, looking down at Raven with disappointed, pouting green eyes. "Is it not proper for heroines to engage in friendly camaraderie when our paths intersect?"

Raven gestured sharply toward the center of the street, where Artemis was currently bowing to a group of cheering men who were showering her bucket with even more king-sized candy bars while Miss Martian rounded the corner for her third block.

"Think about the logistics for five seconds, Star," Raven argued, her eyes darting between Artemis's bulging candy haul and the decorated residential porches down the block. "If we go over there right now, M'gann is going to completely lose her mind from mortification because two fellow heroes caught her naked in public. Artemis is going to turn that camera straight onto us and record us for their group chat. Do you really want Vergil, Conner, Or Even watching a video of us struggling to keep our twenty-dollar budget costumes from falling off our bodies?"

Starfire paused, her green eyes blinking as she processed the thought. "I... I suppose the recording of our garment struggles would be somewhat uncomfortable..."

"Uncomfortable? It would be a nightmare," Raven emphasized, tugging sharply at her red devil skirt as her wide hips shifted. "And look at what's happening to the street! Every single guy on this block is coming out of his house to watch the streaker run past! They are holding giant, untouched bowls of king-sized candy bars right now! If we get distracted by two Young Justice members doing stupid party dares, every guy on this street is going to empty his entire king-sized stash straight into Artemis's bucket before we even get a chance to knock on their doors!"

Raven held up her own green plastic pumpkin, pointing at the pathetic, lonely box of raisins sitting at the bottom. "Look at this, Star. I have been walking for an hour, my thighs are chafing, my skirt is practically invisible, and I have three peppermint hard candies to show for it. If we get distracted now, those king-sized bars are gone forever. It's just some heroes losing a bet—it happens all the time. We need to stay focused."

Starfire looked back over her shoulder, watching the distant, glistening emerald silhouette of Miss Martian sprinting down the far end of the avenue, surrounded by cheering fans throwing chocolate. Then she looked down at Raven's pale, intensely determined face, taking in the sheer, unyielding stubbornness in her dark eyes.

"You truly believe we should prioritize the collection of the confectioneries over the investigation of our fellow heroes?" Starfire asked, her voice soft and thoughtful.