#and he'd murder me for it but we love him as he is

[pseudowho]

You and Kento bustled through the kitchen, and with your arms full of plates, you couldn't resist giving the top of Yuuji's head a nuzzle and a kiss as you passed.

Yuuji smiled at you both, full and warm for the first time in years. You and Kento felt his eyes on you as you weaved past each other, in a practiced after-dinner-clean-up Tango.

"Ah...hey, Nanamin, I-- I've got, uh...I've got a, uhm..."

Kento's interest was piqued. He stopped washing up and, with one raised fine eyebrow, turned to regard Yuuji while he dried the suds off his forearms.

"What is is, Yuuji?"

Yuuji looked awkward. Eventually, he stuttered out through a sheepish grin.

"I've uh...I've got a date tomorrow, so I won't be home for dinner."

A gasp. A smash!clinkclinkclink as you dropped a mug to the floor, and Kento closed his eyes in wounded resignation for the death of his favourite mug. You stepped across him, pressing your palms to the counter, wild-eyed at Yuuji.

"A date?"

"Uh...y-yea--"

"A date date?"

"...I...Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--she can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

"A date!"

You could barely contain your excitement; Kento huffed, plucking pieces of porcelain from the floor, while you squished Yuuji's cheeks and cooed.

Yuuji barely escaped in one piece that evening before bed, grilled for any piece of information you could get your hands on. Eventually, he escaped, the lock clicking behind him as he shut his bedroom door.

Flopping onto your back into bed beside Kento, with enough force to make his reading glasses bounce on his nose, you sighed with one dramatic arm across your forehead.

"I'm just so happy for him, Kento."

A warm little smile; a folding of the book. "Yeah. Yeah, me too. Did he say who it was?"

"You know, of all the things I asked him, I didn't ask him that."

A chuckle, a hum...a silence. A rustle of pages. A gentle removal of reading glasses, and Kento looked over you with quiet scrutiny, as if your state of undress in a t-shirt and nothing more stirred memories for him.

You blinked up at him, "...what's wrong?"

Kento's nose flared, and he laid down beside you, switching the light off. You could hear him blushing in the dark.

"Do you think Yuuji's a virgin?"

You felt a thud of realisation, and answered, "I...should think he probably is. I...what should we..."

"Don't worry," Kento answered, clipped and looping an arm over your waist, "I can handle that."

+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+-+

"Yuuji. If you have a moment, could you come and speak to me, please?"

You felt an alarm bell in your soul. The sun was setting, on the evening of Yuuji's date, but Kento was still fully dressed. He'd even buttoned his suit jacket up and redone his tie. His pocket rustled. You could have sworn you saw a droplet of sweat drip down his temple.

You paused your murder documentary...and watched, for this would surely be more horrifying. Yuuji leaned round the bathroom door, innocently curious, and padded over with his hands in his pockets. He pulled out his phone.

"Ah...y-yeah, I think they'll be here in a minu--"

"Sit down. Please. Yuuji."

You could have sworn Kento left dents in the top of the chair that he grasped. Yuuji sat slowly, wary, looking between you and Kento. From your place on the sofa, you shrugged. Kento spoke.

"You're...a young man now, Yuuji."

"Ah...yeah. I-I guess I am. Thank--"

"--and sometimes young men have...urges."

You wished for death, but would take the entertainment before you expired. Yuuji's blush started at his chin, and climbed slowly upwards, a sun-ripening peach.

"...Nanamin. Please, you-- you don't have to do--"

"--and it's important to understand the difference between lust, and love."

"Oh god, Nanamin, I'm begging you--"

"--and while it's only natural to follow your urges, it's important to do so responsibly--"

"--Mrs.Nanamin, I'm scared--"

"--he can't hurt you, Yuuji--"

Kento pulled the rustling packet from his pocket, and placed it before Yuuji on the table. The room was thick with silence. Yuuji spoke, his voice breaking and his soul sweating.

"...Nanamin, please say that's candy--"

"I've bought you these condoms--"

"--please just let me die, Nanamin--"

"--ribbed, dots, big, small, strawberry I think--"

"--please-- I have to go--"

"--and I only ask that you're sensible and treat your partner with the respect and dignity they deserve--"

"--please treat me with the respect and dignity I deserve and just kill me Nanamin--"

"...and be home by midnight."

Silence. You had held your breath through the whole thing, and held one hand over your mouth. You studiously avoided Yuuji's gaze. Yuuji's mouth puckered, staring up at Nanami, who looked as serious as a car crash.

Yuuji's phone rang. He snatched it up, and made for the door. Kento called after him, mild, "Your condoms, Yuuji--"

"--oh well shit yeah can't forget those, fuck--"

"--language, Yuuji--"

Yuuji stood at the door, considering answering back. He took a single deep breath. He swallowed hard, and stopped himself from scarpering immediately, and turned back to Kento.

"Hey, uh...was that, erm...was that difficult for you, Nanamin?"

"It was the worst thing I've ever done in my life."

"Yeah, it--it felt it, uhm..." Yuuji waggled the bag of condoms with a smirk, pocketing them, "Thanks, dad. Nobara and Megumi are waiting. We'll go for a date, and the other idiot's our chaperone apparently."

As the door clicked closed, Kento released one great heaving breath, and arched back with his hands over his face, releasing an enormous, animalistic groan of agony.

You bubbled over, snickering, and traced one toe up Kento's thigh from behind.

"...oh hey, Mr.Nanami, sir, can you teach me about the birds and the bees--"

"Quiet."

[vaguely-concerned]

from what I infer from some of his dialogue, my guess is that while lucanis hasn't had a proper relationship before he has had one night stands and short term flings. and -- listen, I know he's a dick and a menace and probably a hopeless case but please do still spare illario dellamorte a moment of your thoughts and pity for the role of incredulous yet intrepid wing man that he's all but certainly had to play on several occasions for that to happen. there are 100% people out there who were trying SO fucking hard to get no strings attached laid by this stupidly hot emotionally unavailable mysterious stranger who won't be in town for long without lucanis ever realizing it. people who would have remained tragically unlaid if illario weren't there to clue him in.

I'm just imagining Illario staring in pure dismay and disbelief at his dumbass of a cousin failing to pick up what someone isn't just putting down but scattering all over the floor like glittery confetti burning with a magnesium flame brightness to spell out 'SIR PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE RAIL ME THIS IS AN OFFICIAL ENTHUSIASTIC INVITATION TO MY BED' and having to push him out the door after them like 'maker's breath sometimes i don't understand how you have the wits to grip the right end of a knife, lucanis, they were throwing themselves at you and you just stared at them in mild puzzlement until they gave up and went away go fucking GET THEM for the sake of my sanity if nothing else!!!'

[thebitchkingofangmar]

One reading of Fëanor that I haven't encountered yet but has recently become integral to my interpretation of the character and of the Fëanorian Oath (tho I'm sure I'm bound to find it somewhere if I do better research of academic databases and the Tumblr search system wasn't bullshit) is that Fëanor shouldn't have made the Silmarils in the first place.

One of the reasons I love this idea so much is that we know Fëanor does not care about should do, he cares about what he can do. "Enough" is a limitation, how far he goes, how excellent his craft is is not determined by notions like this. He would've made them anyway, even if Eru himself had told him not to.

I became of this idea when I was reading a series of theology essays about prophets in Jewish religiosity and history, as well as the Man-God relationship by Abraham Joshua Heschel. One of the essays is an address he made during the Civil Rights movement, in defence of it as an accomplice of racial liberation, and in it, while talking about racism and using religion to justify racism in an affront to God, he defines an Idol as "any god who is mine but not yours, any god concerned with me but not you, is an idol."

Aside from its context, it made me think of how the Fëanorian Oath changes the narrative around the Silmarils. We know they're sacred objects; so sacred Varda herself protected them. In this line, most of the reads/takes/interpretations about Fëanor and the Oath I have encountered revolve around either (a) him being justified in his pursue of what had been stolen from him because they're sacred objects; (b) interpretations about Fëanor's downfall rooted in his pride and direct Catholic/Christian interpretations of Genesis.

Starting with the latter, I've never liked those interpretations not because Tolkien's religiosity did not affect his world building, but because imo they are less concerned with the story in itself and the narrative relationships between themes, characters, actions and environment, and more with making Tolkien stories into fables, as if he was writing the moral reimagining of Paradise Lost. Man's a lot of things but he is a novelist through and through. He's not writing a fable.

Another reason I don't like them is because they forgo simpler, much more tangible interpretations between Tolkien characters and what is Holy, Sacred or Godly in the Legendarium, but also with religion in general: that not bringing harm onto others, because you recognise life in others as a manifestation of what is Holy, isn't about the great moral deeds of misdeeds of the Reprehensible and the Punishable but in the neutral. In the small things. In the not holding yourself as the only measure of the world and being curious enough to be open to others. You don't need to be Great to do this. This isn't about the Great Kings and Great Elves and the Names Which Go Down In History, but the everyday people, concerned with every day things, which is a huge theme in Tolkien.

This is when the Silmarils become idols, this is why he shouldn't have created them even if I know and love that he would've done it anyway. Because even as Varda put her hands on them to protect them, Fëanor is not the owner of the light of the trees. Who is Fëanor to command who gets access to the light of the trees and who doesn't? Who is Fëanor to decide who is worthy of their light and who is not? That is not his prerogative, and never will be. The Oath confirms the opposite, whoever: that the light is his and of whom he decides are worthy, and before the Oath, his resentment against other elves and the Valar about them being taken too.

Which takes me to the the other interpretation. He's justified to go after them because they're religious, sacred objects. And I agree! They are. And they're also still idols. The Fëanorian Oath still turns the light of the trees into something of only some are worthy, concerned with Fëanor and his descendents and no one else. Because if it were for the sake of the holy value of the Trees themselves, why act against other elves? Why make your children swear to take them from, by any means, from even the Valar and Eru himself? He was like this even before Melkor got in the picture.

If Fëanor had kept the secret, like Aulë when he created the dwarves, and Eru had confronted him about it, do you think he would've given them away? I don't think he would've. And even if they weren't sacred, Fëanor still had no special right over the light of the trees, or do great corporations, political tyrants or the like own the sun? Should they own water, the housing markets, food, healthcare, education, and all of the things people need to live?

This is why he shouldn't have created them in the first place. Because even if the elves did not revolve so heavily around God (which is a thing for another time) light isn't his to own. Light does not need to sacred or hold religious significance for it not to be his to own. I assure you that if, in real life, someone began trying to charge us for being under the sun (and honestly some corporations and political decisions already kind of try) we'd be rightfully pissed.

If I was an elf and Fëanor told me I couldn't partake in the light of the Trees because he was better than me, and because he was the only one who could even do a feat like preserving it, I would tell him to fuck off and to realise that if he hasn't noticed, the fruits of the Trees give light for free, what is he gonna do? Build an enclosure around them? lol, lmao even.

[monty-glasses-roxy]

This might be the illness talking, but I want a 'Monty feeling like he's not as good as bonnie' where Roxy comforts him but it's just Roxy being 100% brutally fucking honest about it.

Monty: I'LL NEVER BE AS GOOD AS BONNIE!!

Roxy: HELL YEAH

Monty: Wh-

Roxy: Bonnie fucking SUCKED!!! It's about time we had a good bass player!!

Monty: Rox what- I thought he was ya friend????

Roxy: Yeah but that doesn't mean he could play for shit.

Monty: ?????????

Bonus if this happens in front of Freddy and Chica and they're a combination of offended on Bonnie's behalf, kinda in agreement that he did kinda suck at it, and just astounded by the sheer balls on this dog for saying it like she did with his bestie and fucking boyfriend in the room.

Roxy and Bonnie were besties but she won't lie for him even after deactivation lmao

[pierswife]

Okay I did one assignment time to reward myself (fucking nap until irls steal me for among us)

[nest-being]

yesterday the emotional pain was just too much. overpowered my every thought and action. consumed me whole. but today i'm okay!! i cried trying to sleep wishing so badly that i wouldn't feel like this in the morning and my wishes came true!!! i woke up feeling a lot better compared to yesterday. i think i'll always have painful memories and emotions and idk if i'll ever be able to look at my face in the mirror without feeling some kind of way about it but i have to keep reminding myself that it'll be okay no matter what happens it'll be okay

[phantomrose96]

Season 3 Elias is so goddamn fucking funny to me I forgot what a rollercoaster he was during my first listen.

Like the s2 finale has Jurgen Leitner giving Jon the whole "monsters are real speech" and Jon's like "I need a cigarette. NO ONE get brutal pipe murdered while I'm gone" and Jurgen fails step 1 because Elias walks in and grabs Jon's point-and-click-adventure pipe he'd been carrying around and Brutal Pipe Murders. Which, of course, Jon walks back in on and is prime suspect #1 due to literally every single feature trait and word he's said in the entirety of s2.

So naturally s3 starts with Jon on the lam and Officer Tonner like "I'm gonna arrest him for brutal pipe murder" and I'M like "Shit. I hate this. Elias is going to SO easily pin it on Jon and get away with it."

EXCEPT Elias walks in and is like "hello Ms. Officer no Jon Archivist did not kill that man, also I won't tell you anything else, also this is what you sound like" while reciting all her childhood trauma and all her illegal activity that will get HER sent to jail for brutal murder of the non-pipe variety and now I'm like "....huh." He's also like "Jon didn't do it but you can kill him if you want maybe :)" Elias your alibi????

And then we come BACK with Jon storming Elias's office with his two lesbian bodyguards as back up and he's like "I'm gonna use my powers to make you confess to pipe murder!" At which point Elias is like "It doesn't work on me. But I'm having fun so Martin go get everyone I need to tell you all how I committed pipe murder." and Martin does and Elias is like "Yes I pipe murdered. I also killed Gertrude. I love murder. You will not be compensated extra for this time. Get back to work." And they... DO... just go back to work. Because work is haunted. One of the lesbian police officers works here now, too. This just happened. "Also living dolls from Russia are about to Apocalypse the world, Jon go stop it," Elias says, while also saying "no I'm not gonna tell you how to stop it."

Okay???? Mr. Elias man??? And you're like "maybe he's a ruthless tactician? Maybe he's brutal but it's all in the interest of stopping the doll apocalypse??? He wants to save the earth???" Except THAT'S not even true it's actually more like he's trying to get the Russian dolls kicked out of line at Disney World so HE gets to meet Mickey Mouse first by which I mean, start his OWN Apocalypse, because if the dolls do it first well then what's the point of apocalypsing a planet that's become someone else's sloppy seconds.

Anyway Elias's master strategy here is to bring the human equivalent of a drowned cat to the gun fight and just sit back and watch Jon fall down every set of stairs he finds while Elias goes "This is good. This will work." His name isn't even fucking Elias.

[marvelsswansong]

melting snow

summary: the subtle, obvious, sweet, and at times - dangerous - ways Coriolanus shows his love for you.

tags: coriolanus snow x fem!reader, possessive and lovesick!Snow, mostly fluff with light allusions to smut, significantly off-canon from movie (no lucy gray and no sejanus betrayal), CW possessive/dark behavior, graphic descriptions of murder, violence (it's only the last bit of this fic that's quite dark/violent, so feel free to read up until then. Please take care of yourself!!!)

☆ word count: 4.6K+ words ☆

⚠️ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐈 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐠𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲, 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐨𝐫 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐮𝐫𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐚𝐧𝐲 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐟𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞.⚠️

one: subtle praise

At the beginning, he would mask his true feelings and physical urges towards you with a tight lipped grin and a reserved compliment. Something that acknowledges something you've done objectively well, with a genuine softness that didn't apply to any of his other classmates, but seemingly delivered in a nonchalant matter to feign indifference.

"Great dodge." he'd say to you, both of your chests heaving from adrenaline during fencing class. You'd nod gently, a shy "thank you" leaving your lips.

But when Clemensia wins the next round against him, Coriolanus doesn't go above simply shake her left hand in courtesy before leaving the arena briskly.

"Well played." he'd joke, when it was revealed during the final student appraisal that you'd beaten Coriolanus' marks by a few points. Despite Archane and Felix throwing subtle jabs at his way for "losing" the star student title, you'd just shrug off the compliment profusely, praising him endlessly.

"A mere fluke, really. You're the brilliant student. I reckon I just study hard and get lucky." you'd reply, straightening the cuffs of your jacket nervously. The blonde always found it so endearing how bad you were at taking compliments.

So different from the rest of the scum in Capitol, he thought.

Eventually, he'd start to turn his verbal compliments towards things unrelated to your capabilities and work. And more towards things that were of a personal nature, like your looks and dress.

"Your hair looks very nice today." he comments one afternoon late after school, his shoulders brushing against yours as you both await your rides home. Your hands fly up to your hair, to the small crown of daisies adorning your head, as if you've almost forgotten what you were wearing.

"You think so?" you shyly ask, looking up at him nervously. "I wouldn't have worn it to the academy if we hadn't been called down on immediate notice. It's just that the family I babysit for on the weekends, their daughter just turned six and... well, she was very insistent on making me a flower crown."

He finds your embarrassment awfully cute.

"But I swear, when Dr Gaul turned to look at me today, I thought she was going to kill me."

Coriolanus only rolls his eyes playfully at that, knocking his shoulders against yours.

"And what would she know about first rate fashion? You look amazing."

It's the nicest compliment you've gotten over a silly crown of flowers, your heart warming and your breath stuttering at his words. It's what motivates you to lightly squeeze his right arm before you get into the car, your touch lingering in his mind long after you depart.

A month later, Coriolanus runs into you at the farmer's market on a Sunday. His instructions by Tigris to "buy some bread and oranges for tomorrow" are almost forgotten in one fell swoop when he sees you. Free from your usual academic attire, you're wearing a flowy lilac dress which sits right below your knees, the silky fabric glowing in the yellow sunlight.

"This color really suits you." he decides to whisper in your ear after discreetly sliding into the space next to you, the action so sudden that it causes you to jump. Your shoulders soften when you recognize his striking blue irises, and then you pout, punching him right in the chest.

"You scared me, Snow." you jokingly scold him. "And where are your manners? You should always introduce yourself first to a lady."

He pretends to be wounded by that, hand on heart whilst leaning backwards.

"My deepest apologies. Would this help?" he asks, effortlessly pulling a white rose from his back pocket. He revels in how your gaze lightens up in awe and amusement at the gesture.

"Perhaps so." you reply back, fingertips brushing against his.

The blonde takes it as a sign to slide it behind your ear, the memory of your etheral form with his flower tucked behind your right ear etched into his mind before you're called away by your friends.

------------------------------

two: soft touches

Once he's sure that his feelings are reciprocated, Coriolanus would start to step the line over into something more serious. He's not willing to open up immediately nor is he necessarily a man of romantic prose. A large part of him is scared, even, of the way you make him feel.

After all, what is love if not vulnerability?

And how he could be vulnerable with you, a woman so far out of his league, widely adored and your family amongst the wealthiest in Panem?

So it would start off when the class seating arrangements are changed and you're seated next to Coriolanus for the remainder of the year.

He'd start to purposefully spread his legs a little bit wider than usual, his knees always brushing against yours.

He'd take every chance he could to lean over to explain something to you, his face a few inches away from yours, if you ever seemed stuck on a question.

He'd open the classroom door for you in the mornings and offer to carry your heavy textbooks back to your family's car after school, insisting that it was because he wouldn't want you to trip on your heels. And if you'd ever insist on carrying the books on your own, he'd keep a gentle hand on your upper back to keep you upright "in balance."

Once, whilst presenting a speech at your father's fundraising dinner that you'd stayed up all night preparing for, you accidentally lose track of your speech. You stumble on your words, voice cracking in panic as you start to scan the page of thick text, all of which suddenly seem jumbled up and nonsensical.

Sensing distress, Coriolanus' hand quickly moves under the table to squeeze your left hand (hanging by your side) in a reassuring manner.

It's only then, somehow, that you find yourself able to re-focus on the printed text and continue your speech. Afterwards, you squeeze his hand back and whisper your gratitude.

"I owe you, Coriolanus."

Another time, it's a formal ball being hosted by the academy to mark the holiday season. After a few drinks, you're tipsy and manage to drag your friends up towards the balcony, despite it snowing outside and being below zero degrees.

Cautiously watching your every movement by where he's leaning by the bar, Coriolanus quickly makes an excuse to exit the conversation he found himself trapped in, before walking outside towards your shivering figure.

Your dress certainly isn't helping your situation, it being a satin slip dress with sleeves and a conservative cut out by your shoulders. It exposes your chilled skin as you rub the naked space with your arms, your staggered breaths coming out in white puffs of smoke.

"Corio! What're you doing he-" you start to walk towards him but nearly trip, his arms coming to supporting your body last second to save you from falling completely on your face.

"You shouldn't be outside in this weather." he comments, amused, as he helps you find your balance once more. But you refuse to re-enter the ballroom, choosing to instead excitedly ramble about how wonderful winter in the Capitol is and how you can't remember where you've placed your bag.

Listening earnestly to your ramblings with a smile on his face, he quickly shakes off his blazer.

"May I?" he asks. You blink slowly, heart fluttering at the gesture.

"O-okay."

The boy then carefully drapes his blazer over your shoulders, the act immediately enveloping your senses in his signature smells - oakwood and rose. Your fingers clutch the lapels of the jacket, your nose burrowing in to the softness of the fabric.

"Are you sure you won't be cold?"

He's freezing, of course, but he keeps his posture straight and tuck his hands into his pockets.

"I'm just fine. Don't you worry about me."

-------------------------------

three: nicknames

Once you two become an item, Coriolanus moves on to calling you affectionate names.

Of course, he'll prefer to call you by your name in professional settings - like during a presentation, in front of the Academy staff, at formal galas and dinners - but when it's just the two of you, or around people you both trust, or when he's jealous -

He almost never calls you by your name.

Darling is the classic, lovestruck expression he uses when he's being his most vulnerable. It's what he whispers into the gap underneath your neck when he's waking you up in the morning, landing kisses across your collarbone during sunrise. It's his greeting when he surprises you with a bouquet of flowers on your birthday, right before he whisks you away to a trip to district 1. It's what he cries into your hairline when you are hospitalized following a rogue rebel explosion on your trip home.

"Darling... darling, can you hear me?"

Coriolanus' voice is foggy, your head still ringing from the loud explosion earlier, but your heart still races at the sound of his voice and the touch of his hand on yours. Throat croaking, you try to respond with an affirmative "yes", to which your boyfriend responds by quickly grabbing a near by cup of water.

Gently guiding the glass to your lips, he treats you as if you're a fragile porcelain doll: smoothing down your hair gently and fluffing up your pillows to lay you back down. It's only then that you get a good look at him under the flickering lights - the bags under his eyes look heavy, his usually neat hair a complete mess, his blue irises blood shot.

"Have you been sleeping, Corio?" you ask, worried, your thumb rubbing circles onto his palm. He chokes up at that, shaking his head sideways with a sad smile.

"How... how could you ask me that, darling? You've been in the hospital for days."

"I hope that doesn't mean you haven't been sleeping for days." you quip back, raising your eyebrows. Your boyfriend opens his mouth to lie, but the twitch of his lips gives him away. So you instead shift towards the left of your bed, making space for him on the mattress.

"Come on you silly man."

He smiles a guilty grin before snuggling up next to you, letting out a heavy sigh of content at your warm body against his.

Petal is his sweet, infatuated name for you when he's referring to you in conversation or calling out for you in front of friends and family. Tigris never fails to tease Coriolanus for the name, but he doesn't mind it - you're his flower, his precious petal.

"I can't believe you think this is ugly." Tigris sighs at the dinner table one night, shuffling through the myriad of designs on the desk. "This was going to be the design I send off to the boutique tomorrow."

"I didn't say it was ugly, I just think this design is far nicer." Coriolanus responds, pushing forward the blue design in front of him. His cousin pouts at that, clearly unsatisfied with his answer.

"Petal-" Coriolanus calls out for you, where you're cooking with grandma'am in the kitchen. "Could you come in for a moment?"

When your confused face pops into the room, Tigris quickly calls you over, dramatically stretching out her arms to grab you.

"Mr Snow seems to think this design - the gold sweetheart dress with lace trimmings - is uglier than this blue version. What do you think, (Y/n)?" she earnestly asks, pushing over the two designs to your direction. You shuffle through the papers intently, studying each drawing up close, before ultimately taking Tigris' side.

"I'd say your eye for design is impeccable, Tigris. And that Coriolanus should perhaps stick to things other than fashion."

That makes both grandma'am (who is listening in from the kitchen) and Tigris, burst out in laughter, with the latter throwing her arms around your waist in a sideways hug.

"Ah, I knew you were my favorite for a reason." she jokes.

"Petal, you wound me." your boyfriend jokes, a small scowl on his face for show. Though, when you lean down to kiss him, the scowl easily melts away.

My doll is what he calls you when he's driven sick by jealousy and possession. As, much to Coriolanus' distate, you have many admirers - due to you coming from a wealthy family and being a well known socialite in your own right.

Coriolanus has never liked Felix Ravinstill, but he swears his hatred for the president's son only tripled after you and Coriolanus became an item. Felix was never shy about his attraction to you - the forward compliments, the invitations to his house after school, the rush to sit next to you during lunch periods. But now, the blonde thinks, it's getting full on desperate.

As you sit reading a book in the hallways of tha academy, waiting for Coriolanus to finish his talk with Dr Gaul, the dark haired boy decides to chat with you. When your boyfriend opens the door discreetly, upon hearing your voice mingle with someone else's outside, his vision nearly turns red at how close the other man is to you.

You're pointing out something in your book to Felix, your innocent eyes fixated purely on the black and white text and thus completely missing how shamelessly the man next to you is eyeing you up and down. It takes Dr Gaul's shout - "actually, Ms (Y/n), could we have a word regarding your last proposal" - for Coriolanus' rage to slowly fade.

Instead, he starts to feel cold, hardened logic putting a plan into motion.

And once you're inside the classroom, Coriolanus doesn't hesitate to slam Felix up against the wall, making sure to angle the boy's head to hit directly against a marble statute. The impact isn't hard enough to crack the man's skull, the last minute measurement in Coriolanus' head ensuring that he wouldn't be punished for injuring the president's son.

But he makes sure that the impact hurts enough to leave a mark.

It makes Coriolanus' heart twist in pleasure.

"You better leave my doll alone, Ravinstill. She's not interested in you. She's never been interested in you." he spits, snarling like a ravenous dog.

"You're delusional, Snow, if you think she'd ever want to stay with you." Felix manages to spit out, trying to wiggle his way out of the taller man's hold, but Coriolanus is too strong.

"You're the only delusional one here. It's pathetic, really. All that money and social connections in the world, and it'll never be good enough for my doll."

Coriolanus can tell that hit a nerve with Felix, so he lets go of the shorter boy, nearly throwing him away to the side in the process. Pride and ego surges through his veins when you appear and call out for Coriolanus, so the blonde makes a concerted effort to kiss you fiercely for show.

His arm snaking around your shoulder to pull you right up against him, a devious smile on his lips.

-----------------------

four: lavish gifts and deep marks

Things only escalate once Coriolanus' tribute ends up winning the hunger games and he's crowned the winner of the Plinth Prize. Now saddled with money, reputation and a full ride scholarship to the university funneled by the Plinth family - he finally finds himself able to spoil you in all the ways possible.

Fresh flowers adorn your windowsill every morning. The finest jewellery and newest luxury bags are delivered to your doorstep at random. Perhaps most impressive of all, he buys a two bedroom apartment near the center of the Capitol for you two to move into.

"How'd you..." you can't even finish your sentence when you first see the place: the prime location, the high arched ceilings, the stainless marble... He hadn't even allowed you to pitch in any of your own - or your family's - money to buy the place, insisting that it was to be a complete surprise.

His arms come around your shoulder to hug you close, swaying you from side to side.

"Generosity of the Plinth family and the spoils of being the victor, darling." he drawls in your ear.

You're still in awe, hands tracing the intricate patterns of the roman columns supporting the ceiling, when he starts to tug you up the stairs.

"Would you like to see the view from our bedroom? It's magnificent."

Of course, Coriolanus' new elevated status and recent memory of acting as a mentor in the hunger games - planning, guiding, and having a role in the extended play of human lives - it all makes him quite obsessive and possessive of you. Given that you're one of the few people in his life who has known him for years now, before he was a mentor and before had all this money and status...

He has to make sure to keep you in his life. He's made a lot of enemies, after all, many of whom would like to harm him. And with his undying love for you, hurting you becomes an attractive option for his enemies.

So Coriolanus gets more possessive by becoming more shameless in public. He'll gladly call you his love in front of crowds of hundreds. He'll kiss you breathless and squeeze your lower back if he thinks a man is staring a bit too long at you. And when he knows you two will be separated for a few days - usually due to him having to travel out of the Capitol on business matters - he'll leave bite marks on your neck.

You didn't even think about how noticeable the marks might be when you rush out of bed one morning, having promised to attend an engagement dinner of a fellow classmate, Clemensia's. Your rude awakening comes when, mid-way through the rehearsal, Sejanus leans over to quietly ask if you've brought your foundation with you.

You scrunch your face at the odd question.

"Uh, yes... I have a powder compact in my bag, why?"

Your friend smiles at you apologetically, before motioning to your neck.

"Because, (Y/n), it looks like a vampire has bit you."

And when you look at your reflection in your wine glass, it's clear that you have odd, dark, bite shaped marks littering your collarbone and neck.

Later in the week, when Coriolanus has finally returned from his business trip, you try and scold him for it.

"I nearly died of shame, Corio. Seriously, you should've seen how Arachne was looking at me the whole night." you sigh, just as he laughs.

"You're over thinking it, darling. Besides, you weren't complaining when I was leaving those marks on you on Tuesday."

You open his mouth to scold him again, but find yourself unable to mutter a smart response, your thoughts flying away when he's back to attacking your skin with his mouth.

After all, you're like a drug to him - he can never get enough.

---------------------------------------

five: killing for you

Once Coriolanus is sure that you're not going to leave him, he finds it appropriate to take it to the next level: marriage. He drops a few thousand dollars on a large diamond ring, a ring which he makes sure you never take off (except in the shower).

At this point, the thought of losing you nearly equals his fears of losing everything he's built so far: becoming wealthy, powerful and well known amongst the Capitol's elite. He's terrified of living in a world without you and so he considers anyone who is deemed a threat must be dealt with in a secure, efficient manner.

No mercy, no hesitation.

After all, Coriolanus thinks one night, whilst sharpening a spare knife in the kitchen: if you give a rebel an inch, they'll run a mile.

The first person he kills is a security guard who fails to do their job correctly in protecting you.

He'd been hired by Coriolanus to protect you in your daily transport from the mansion to anywhere outside the Capitol (most often, to districts 1-3 to support your family's business dealings). But the bodyguard had failed to protect you one fateful winter day, leaving you to stumble back home with a twisted ankle and a busted lip as your bodyguard was only able to neutralize the threat after a few minutes of tussling with the gang's leader in the snow.

Your fiancee was fuming, sending you off to a near by hospital with grandma'am, before he motioned for your bodyguard to come downstairs to the empty garden.

The blonde didn't even feel an ounce of sorrow as he pulled the trigger, simply ordering the next bodyguard he'd hired to do the messy job of disposing of the body.

The second person he kills is a rebel who attempted to sneak a bomb underneath the car transporting you to the Capitol, following Coriolanus' announcement as candidate for the presidency.

The rebel was apprehended by the security detail team pretty quickly, so fast in fact that you weren't even made aware of the threat on your life. All you're told that day by Coriolanus' subordinates is that "there had been a change of plans" and you were to go to a fundraising dinner at an art museum instead to raise funds for the campaign.

And whilst you're off at the dinner, making a passionate speech for his presidency, Coriolanus makes an order for the rebel to be dragged out into the fields.

"You dare threaten the love of my life?" he sneers into the rebel's face, which is already bloodied and broken beyond recognition. The animalistic rage pumping through Coriolanus' veins is unlike anything he's ever felt before, and the gun in his hands suddenly feels like too much of a merciful ending for the rebel's crime.

"Just kill me." the rebel spits, but that only makes Coriolanus let out a sinister chuckle.

"Don't worry, I will. But I think a gun shot will be far too quick."

Instead, Coriolanus orders the man to be placed into a cage - a prototype that was being designed as a trap for the next year's games - and for a tub of venomous snakes to be released.

Whilst the other workers in his campaign look away from the horrific sight, Coriolanus just stares in great interest and pride. Once the screaming dies down, he calmly disposes of his bloodied shirt and hails a ride to greet you at the museum entrance.

"All good?" you ask, noticing an odd expression on your lover's face. But he just kisses you lightly on the lips, chuckling.

"Of course, petal. Why wouldn't it be?"

And so on and so forth. Whether it's directly or indirectly, Coriolanus becomes ruthless in securing your safety and your love. And he's so good at hiding it, he thinks, until one day he becomes a bit sloppy.

It was supposed to be an easygoing dinner at the mansion, a wealthy donor - his top donor, his campaign manager had informed him - named Robert Hemingworth had requested a private dinner. Coriolanus intially wanted to refuse, hating the thought of inviting a stranger to his home, but both you and his campaign manager agreed that it was best to play nice given the money at stake.

"For your troubles." Robert had said on his way in, a snarky smirk on his lips. In his arms were a basket of wines and grapes worth a pretty penny, but Coriolanus couldn't help but think that there was something about the brunette's gaze that he didn't trust. But with pursed lips and a fake smile, he forced out a thank you and invited the man into the foyer.

"What a... charming little abode." the oil tycoon had drawled, his gloved hands tracing along the walls. The sly comments and odd compliments (in truth, backhanded compliments) continued through out the night, all the way from appetizer to the main course. Sipping on copious bottles of red wine in an effort to keep himself grounded, Coriolanus was managing to keep his temper down until the older man asked about your whereabouts.

"Will your charming fiancee not be joining us?"

He froze at the man's questions, the hungry look in the millionaire's eyes and the underlying threat weighing down the atmosphere. The desserts had now arrived, two maids scurrying in with small plates of bread pudding, both of whom Coriolanus quickly dismissed with a wave of his hand.

"She's out with Tigris. Dress shopping." he'd decided to leave it at that, his left hand squeezing his glass so tight the glass started to crack. Coriolanus had hoped the man would leave the discussion there, as he wasn't sure what he was capable of doing if the older man didn't.

But the man continued. A disgusting moan escaping his lips in satisfaction after biting into the pudding, a devious smirk on his lips to match.

"Ah. Well, what a shame. I was hoping she would be part of the dessert."

No sooner than those words leave the millionaire's mouth, Coriolanus' left hand grabbed the knife laying on the board in front of him, where moments ago the maids were cutting cheese and ham. He then brings the blade to swiftly meet the older man's stomach, white dress shirt staining crimson red, all the while Coriolanus refuses to break the man's gaze.

"You fucking disgust me. Everyone in the Capitol fucking disgusts me one way or another, but you? You dare invite yourself to my home?" he retracts the knife, before stabbing it back into the suited man's flesh, each pause accentuated by another driving force.

"You dare speak about my love in such a vulgar manner?"

"You dare insinuate such sinful acts with my beloved?"

"You dare try and buy your way into her body?"

The marble floors are now flooded in a sea of red, the man's dying chokes and Coriolanus' heavy breaths overwhelming the room. The room stings of the smell of copper when you enter the space, quietly closing the door behind you, as you were only able to see the man on the floor and your boyfriend standing on top of him from the entrance.

"Corio? Love?"

The blonde turns around at the sound of your voice, face etched with annoyance.

Annoyed that you'd have to be subject to a vulgar sight like this. Annoyed that he'd stained your new kitchen set with an unworthy man's blood... And most of all, annoyed that he can't tell what you're thinking: your face kept completely neutral as you slowly approach him.

"You're back early." is all he decides to say, testing the waters.

You look down at his hands, soaked in hot blood, then down at the man who is writhing on the floor.

"Found what we wanted quickly, I suppose." you reply, stopping next to Coirolanus before leaning down to get a better look at the dying man. "Right, what was his deal?"

"Hm?"

It's only then that your plain expression breaks, your usually light eyes swimming with sinister charm, a coy smile breaking out on your face.

"Come on, Corio. You don't seriously think I didn't notice the amount of odd stains on your cufflinks? Or the terrified looks the house servants give you since the beginning of our engagement?"

He blinks, surprised. Coriolanus had always assumed he was covering his tracks well. Or that, at the very least, you'd have something to say about it all.

"He was making rather vulgar comments about you, darling. The bastard seems to have been making donations in an effort to get closer to you." he slowly explains as you stand back up, nodding slowly.

"Hm... Yes, that is rather concerning. And I suppose you've gone too far ahead for us to save him, always the temperamental lover you are." you tease.

Your humorous response and your unwillingness to run away from the darkness of the situation, it awakens something fierce in Coriolanus that he hasn't felt for you before.

"I suppose."

The euphoria he feels when your delicate fingers lace his to grab the knife instead, before you finally drive the blade down and end the man's life, is indescribable.

"I think you owe me a new dress." you say quietly, dropping the knife onto the floor.

The blonde wastes no time gathering you up in his arms, kissing you so fiercely that it almost hurts your neck.

"I think I owe you more than that, darling. How about the entirety of Panem?"

He'd do anything for you. The entirety of Panem be damned.

a/n: omg this has got to be the darkest piece of writing + fucked up ending I've ever written in like years of writing on tumblr 😅😭 but idk I'm obsessed with an idea of Corio's partner being someone who embraces him wholeheartedly and surprises him by being darker than she seems on the surface.

please leave a like/comment/reblog/ask if you've enjoyed, your support is what motivates me to write!

ALSO I've just re-opened my requests bc I would love to receive some corio fic ideas, so please send in your corio thoughts if you have any 🥺🥺🥺

[bluerosefox]

Assassin Heir? Crime Fighting Furry? NOPE NO THANK YOU!

"Danyal, its time to end this game and return with me."

Danny should had known Clockwork had something in mind when he sent him on this mission. He knew he should had been suspicious of the time keeper when he noticed the little 'this is going to be fun' smile on his face when he sent Danny off into the portal.

"Get back here you demon spawn 2.0!"

But how was he supposed to know that he'd wake up in this world version of himself in a pit full of corrupted (AND NASTY) ectoplasim at the tender age of five or that when he swam up to the surface he'd be meeting face to face with what was apparently a cult.

"-O just spotted him a block away! I'll try to cut itty bitty bridie off!"

An Assassins Cult his, new to him, loving yet a little insane mother was in charge of (though during the few months he stayed in the compound he heard rumors and gossip from maids and others alike that if his grandfather returned from the dead he'll take over once again, no doubt punish Talia for creating another heir after the failure of the last one, most likely was going to kill Danny and that... that was can of worms Danny didn't wanna deal with yet)

"Ten bucks says they try to stab RR when we get the feral thing home"

"...Losers bet...."

Danny had lived with his mother for a while after being brought back from the 'dead' for apparently the first time, it turned out training a five year old with an actual sword and a dumbass hidden revenge seeking teacher was a terrible idea.

"I swear if this one tries to murder me like the others I'm asking Zatanna if there is a curse on me."

He dealt with her high demands of perfection, the endless training, and the constant comparisons to his apparent older brother Damain... Who didn't know Danny, or rather Danyal existed.

Nor did his father (when Danny, using his powers he's kept hidden since 'waking' up in this Realm, he sneaked his way around the base and discovered how he came into the world. And tbh he couldn't blame his mom how she made him, she was an assassin first and foremost, being naturally pregnant would had painted a target on her for to long... but he also felt it was unfair and an asshole move on his unsuspecting father as well)

"As your elder brother I demand you to stop running!"

Now don't get him wrong, he did like his new mother (total badass assassin lady and all that) and he knew she loved him in her own... deadly way. But yeah, she really shouldn't be taking care of kids. He could tell she struggled with wanting to be a normal mother but her first instinct after so many years was to be an assassin first.

Something she was trying to engrave into Danny with as well.

"Ah, hello Beloved. I see you've learned of our Danyal."

"Talia. Back away from him and leave Gotham now."

"I can not do that. The League needs an heir and since Damian refuses to return... I have decided to create a new one and I shall not be leaving until he returns with me."

"Talia."

Hence why when Danny, or rather Danyal al Ghul had gotten decent control over his powers he decided to leave the League. Again nothing wrong with the life his mom leads, to each their own, but he... really, really didnt want to be an assassin. Or an assassin heir.

So here he was, after almost a year on the run, using his powers and training to out smart and out maneuver his mother and her many band of Assassins, in Gotham. One of the last places he ever wanted to run to cause he knew his father and brother lived here.

It was just his luck that his mother had managed to intercept his train ride that passed into Gotham for a few hours and forced him to run into the city...

Add her assassins into the mix and running into Robin, who heard from Oracle his mother had been spotted chasing a young boy across the city, that same night.

After that it became a full on "catch me if you can" chase for not only his mother but for the batclan as well.

And after two whole days of chase, it seemed like the final showdown was about to begin because everyone was on top of this rooftop, his mother and her assassins on one side, his father and the batclan on the other and Danny well... he was right in the middle of all of it.

He just had to hope no one would notice him once the fighting started...

[redflagshipwriter]

Snitches the cat and his favorite bat

I wrote up dpxdc fics based off of prompts I happened to see in the last day to add to the reading pile for anyone who didn't prep for the archive down time today.

EDIT

The idea for Danny as a cat came from @shycorvid, thank you so much for correcting me and letting me play in your sandbox!

Snitches the cat comes from @garbagewith-a-cherryontop (I think??? I couldn't find a definite first post!) but the fantastic linked post is the one with how I think Snitches the cat looks here.

Word count is 1053.

Tumblr reference

masterpost for my AO3 downtime fics

“Ugh- that's not- did we just summon a demon cat?”

“It's so messed up looking. Ew.”

Danny blinked and swayed on his feet. He'd had a tail a minute ago, speeding across the GZ to check in on Walker. There had been an unpleasant lurch in his stomach. And now he was on his feet. All four of them.

Wait, what?

“You fucked this up.”

His ears twitched at the sound of a slap. Danny swiveled towards the sound and then got distracted by the feeling of his ears swiveling back. Whaaaaat?

He looked down at his precious little feeties. They were adorable paws.

“Oh, you motherfuckers,” he said. It came out as a conversational yowl.

The humans looked at him from about ten feet away and five feet up. “Annoying…”

He was pretty sure they were high schoolers. There were five of them, two girls and three boys. They were all bigger than him. High schoolers were usually bigger than he was, but this was just ridiculous.

“Count yourself lucky, dimwits,” one of the older kids said. He took a step towards Danny. Danny pressed his ears flat against his head and hissed at the approach. “If you managed to sacrifice Patches to a demon, your Mom would straight up murder you.” He laughed when he said it, like anything about that was remotely funny.

Uh- what now?

Only now, Danny noticed a very distressed calico cat underneath a laundry basket on the other side of the room. There was a stack of textbooks weighing the basket down. A large rug had been rolled up and- he sneezed rapidly, eyes watering. Chalk! They'd drawn on the floor with chalk!

‘This is some incompetent summoning,’ Danny realized, way too late. ‘Did they- how did they turn me into a cat?’ He looked at his unfortunate brethren under the laundry basket. Her ears were flat against her skull and she looked scared.

He remembered the word “sacrifice” and his blood flushed hit with fury. They'd wanted him to eat her! They'd wanted something to eat miss Patches!

The teenagers froze and looked at him, aghast at the angry sounds that were coming out of his throat.

“Shut up!” One hissed. She took off her shoe and threw it at him. Danny dodged and then threw his head back to yowl even louder. Sonic attack! Aural damage, you big jerks!

“The neighbors are going to- make it shut up!”

Danny had to run, dashing over furniture and tearing his way across a crowded table to avoid being grabbed. He screamed the whole time, eager to alert whoever they were so afraid of. Someone should see!

The window burst in.

Danny stopped running, shocked. He hadn't actually expected-

Someone snatched him up from behind and smacked him on the face with a palm. His jaw exploded with pain. It cut off his yowling.

Stunned. He was still for a moment and then he struggled for his life. The grip on his ribs was way too tight-

He looked over at the sound of a sword being pulled from a sheath. Holy shit, that was bomb as hell. His eyes went wide at the sight of a heavily armored small child crouched on the windowsill. The boy's eyes were covered, but Danny could still see him look at Danny and the poor calico under the laundry basket. He sneered.

“Unhand the cat or lose your hands at the wrist, you wretch.”

Danny loved him.

The teenager dropped him. Danny caught himself with a stumble. He let out a sad mraow before he could stop himself.

Fight club baby was enraged. “What have you done to this animal?” He hopped down into the room, revealing he was at least a foot shorter than the smallest girl in the room.

Danny trotted to him and started winding around his ankles admiringly. What a good kid! He purred.

“I will be taking both of your cats with me. If you ever harm an animal again, it will be your head that is found in a chalk-”

“Robin.” A hugeass grown man squeezed himself through the window that the kid had broken. Danny craned his head up, up, up, to see him case the joint.

The older man radiated incredible judgment. “I see that you require education on animal welfare and demonic summoning. Go on, Robin.”

“That's my Mom's cat!” One of the teenagers protested. “You can't take her!”

Robin growled at her. Danny jumped in his skin at the sound.

“Then we shall return it to your Mother and her alone, when we explain what you've done.” Danny let murder baby scoop him up and purred at full volume. Hell yeah. He looked at the cowering teenagers with condescension.

“Not that fugly thing.”

Danny blinked. He ended up making an inquisitive mraow. Why was a finger being pointed at him? He was baby.

“That thing showed up, you can get rid of it. But Patches is Mom's cat, and you can't steal a cat because-”

“Batman can steal any cat!” Robin bit out, gathered up Patches, and jumped out the window with both cats in an expert grip.

That didn't sound right, but Danny just enjoyed the night air as a line pulled Robin up to where yet another masked vigilante was waiting, cackling himself to tears.

“Batman can steal any cat,” he wheezed. “Brilliant. Good detour, Robin. Can I hold one?” He held out his blue-striped palms expectantly.

He faltered when he saw Danny, visibly surprised.

Danny… was starting to feel bad. He curled into Robin, hurt. He wasn't ugly. Why did people keep reacting to him weird?

“No,” Robin said curtly. “You have damaged his pride, and Patches is still reeling from her shock.”

The man let out a sigh but let the topic go. “That's Patches, and this is…?”

Robin hesitated. “He is the Snitch.”

That unlocked cooing. “Snitches? Snitchy Snitch Sni- ow!”

Danny snapped at the hand that came way too close and he let out a warning growl. No baby talk!

Robin seemed very pleased. He rubbed behind Danny's ears. “Snitch… I suppose that Snitches will suffice. We are taking him home.”

“....Maybe, just for fun, we should take him to get treated for mange first!” The guy made jazz hands to go with his statement.

Robin and Danny both growled that time.

[casscainmainly]

Why Duke Thomas Should Be A Dick Grayson Hater

Dick and Duke is such an underrated and underexplored relationship. Here is my pitch for why Duke should be a Dick Grayson hater.

1. The Rooftop Thing

Reason number one and the start of Duke's grudge should be the rooftop incident in Robin War. Dick, as part of his plan or whatever, leads Duke to a roof and abandons him to the cops.

LOOK AT DICK'S SMUG FACE. Tell me you wouldn't hold a grudge too if this was the FIRST major interaction you had with him?? Duke should use this against him at any possible opportunity.

2. ACAB

From We Are Robin #2. Once Duke finds out Dick used to be a cop, it's OVER for him.

3. Jason and Damian

Duke is quite close with Jason and Damian (in my head, particularly Damian - that's his LITTLE BROTHER). Anyway, these two are obsessed with Dick. You have Jason, with his miles-long brother issues that puts Dick on a pedestal, and you have Damian, who thinks Dick is the best person on Earth who can do no wrong. They would talk Duke's ears off about him. Duke would HATE IT.

4. Robin

This panel from Night of the Monster Men sums up quite nicely the difference in the way Dick and Duke approach vigilantism. Duke is the 'idealised' Robin, whose Robin-ing isn't contingent on Batman; Dick is more or less too tied up in Bruce. I think, because the Robin identity means a lot to Duke, having the original Robin be like this would irk Duke a LOT.

5. Tom Taylor

SPOILERS FOR CURRENT NIGHTWING RUN: in Nightwing #116, Dick gets framed for murder and Babs tells him to reveal he's Nightwing to clear him of suspicion. She says Bruce suggested it, and recounts everyone who agreed:

Hm. Is someone missing here? Oh yeah: DUKE. TT probably just forgot Duke, but where's the fun in that? Instead, if Duke is a Dick Grayson hater, you have the funniest scene imaginable. Everyone gathered in the Batcave, laying down their identities for Dick, and Duke is like 'I don't give a damn. He can rot in jail.' and peaces out.

BONUS points if he does this to get back at Dick for reason number 1.

6. Parallels

Duke's origin deliberately mirrors Bruce's, but that means it mirrors Dick's as well. Duke and Dick parallels go insane: they both had loving families, lost both parents at once, were in the foster system (varyingly for Dick but for the purposes of this post I'm gonna include it), were wards/not adopted by Bruce initially, have a huge reverence for family, have a thing about heights, view Robin as separate from Batman, forged their own identities, etc.

Tell me this page doesn't slap:

Anyway Duke would HATE this too. He'd be so annoyed that the person he has the most in common with is Dick, and that would fuel his Dick Grayson haterism.

Dick, on the other hand, has no hard feelings towards Duke. Duke would be glowering at him from the corner of the room and Dick would meet his gaze and be like 'ah Duke is so cute' and smile back. This would make Duke 10000x angrier.

Anyway that's my ideal Dick and Duke dynamic, feel free to add or modify or disagree with anything!!

[vaguely-concerned]

the more I play the more I think lucanis basically knows it's illario who betrayed him right from the beginning (he's had a year in the ossuary to think. not that many people knew where he was going. when you ask him 'did Illario know you'd be on that ship' his only answer is the hardest flattest 'yes' you ever heard). so it's not so much about figuring out who the traitor is (because that's ludicrous. we all know. immediately. they didn't really bother to hide it lmao) as about methodically closing off every single avenue of denial lucanis has clung to that whole time with as much or little gentleness as you might prefer until he has no choice but to admit it. because the moment he has to admit it, he'll have to do something -- feel something -- about it. and that's such a catastrophic event in lucanis' inner landscape (he has had TWO people in this whole entire world up until now and will do anything to hold on to them with a heartbreaking child-like desperation, even at and especially through the detriment of his own self) that he'd rather just. not. what if we quite simply. didn't. what if we just stayed here in the emptiness where we can both pretend you didn't hurt me in a way I should never forgive. I have so much practice in that with caterina already it's always worked out great for everyone so far. (press x to fucking doubt but that's trauma logic for you lol)

after everything illario did, so much of the storm of lucanis' emotions around it is 'what the FUCK did you get yourself tangled up in this time and how do I get you out of this mess safely'. what's worse: the fact that your brother murdered you, or that he put himself in horrible danger doing so and thus exposed you to the risk of losing him forever. lucanis' heart certainly has an opinion here and it's fucking unhinged (affectionate)

the themes of dissociation in lucanis' character in general makes me feel nuts. allllll these contradictory messy things he needs to cut off from each other because they can't coexist or be easily reconciled inside him. but all remain stubbornly true separately anyway and will have their due one day. love and resentment. tenderness and fear and rage. terror and longing. love and freedom don't coexist. the burned out golden child anthem is playing in the background. he was always caterina's favourite and he has to keep striving to deserve that dubious honour with every breath he takes and then, presumably, mercifully, some day he will die and be excused and can rest. and until now he's suppressed all the -- natural, healthy, protective! -- negative feelings that threaten the few attachment relationships he actually has, at the cost of ever actually having his needs for connection and safety met and leaving his core self imprisoned and compromised. and spite goes 'what. no. that's dumb fuck that' (*spite voice* I do not understand that and even if I did I would not respect it) and does not allow him to fall back into that, which I think is what saves his life, ultimately. it took being possessed by a demon for lucanis to even contemplate telling anyone he loves 'no' in any way, but hey. whatever gets you there right lol

lucanis is dealing with the freeze response allll the way down baby. and he was even before the ossuary, that just turbo powered it and brought it to a breaking point way before it could happen naturally. but something was going to break eventually no matter what, and I'm just glad that in the end, through the power of friendship and also pure spite, it doesn't have to be him

[vivwritesfics]

Little Terrors

Lando Norris wants to jump his wife's bones. She has to remind him of the consequences of unprotected sex

Dad!Lando

God, his wife looked so sexy. After three kids, she still had it. But that wasn't a surprise to him, he knew she was damn sexy, and she always would be.

Even when she wasn't trying.

No, she was just sitting on the bed, reading her book. (Faerie smut, she'd read chapter fifty-five to him and he'd been horrified. That was what his wife was into?)

Her old pyjamas, stretched out and slipping down her body, not hiding much at all, looked so damn sexy on her. It had him crawling across the bed towards her.

He pushed her book away and pressed tender kisses to her lips. "Can I?" He whispered, pawing at her pyjamas like a horny teenager.

She giggled at him and let him pull her pyjama top over her head. Immediately, he kissed down her chest, hips desperately grinding against the bed sheets. "Lan," she laughed, hands moving through his curls. "Go and get a condom."

He pulled away from her to search through his bedside table for the packet of condoms. The empty packet of condoms. "Shit," He mumbled as he sat back.

She took the box from his hands, checking to see if it really was empty. "Oh, baby," she mumbled as she tugged at his curls again. "We can get some and try again tomorrow night."

But then his eyes lit up and he grinned. "Or we could just not use any protection," he suggested and attached his lips to her neck, trying to convince her.

The laugh that escaped her lips couldn't be considered pretty, but Lando still loved it. "Are you joking me?" She asked as she pushed him away. "You really want another child? Did you forget about the three devil spawns we already have?"

The Personal Massager

"Dad?"

Lando hummed as he drank his coffee. "What do you want, Wy?" He asked his six year old son and oldest child.

He sat back in his seat and turned his attention to Wyatt Norris. He had his dads same curls but, other than that, he was almost the spitting image of his mother.

He was damn cute and could probably get away with murder.

When Lando looked up and saw what Wyatt had in his hands, his face fell. "Do you think mum would mind if I borrowed her massager?" He asked so damn innocently.

Lando's face paled. "Yeah, Wy. She'd be very upset if you borrowed her massager," he said and tried to snatch it away from his son.

But Wyatt saw the way his father's expression changed. And now it was time for some fun.

He held it behind his back, away from his father. "Are you sure?" He asked. "I don't think she'll mind. Can you call her so I can ask her?"

"No, Wyatt! Give it here!" He tried again to reach for it, but Wyatt went running through the house. Forgetting his coffee, Lando chased after him.

It was all just fun and games to little Wyatt Norris. He didn't realise what he had in his hands, didn't know that he had to put it down! "Wyatt! Come back here!" His father roared as he chased him up the stairs.

Wyatt giggled as he tried to shut himself in his bedroom. But Lando caught the door and threw it open. Wyatt looked at his father, ready to laugh at him, but the look on his face had him falling quiet. His dad was the good cop, the one that didn't get angry. But, right now, Wyatt knew he was in for it.

"Give it," Lando said, holding out his hand.

Wyatt placed the... massager in his fathers hands and awaited his punishment. "Grounded," Lando said, immediately.

"Why?" He asked, but Lando didn't answer, didn't get stuck in that loop. One response to why, and it was all Lando was going to be hearing for the rest of the way.

The Paddock

Lando's little princess could do no wrong. She was the youngest of three, barely old enough to talk, but she already knew she had her father wrapped around her little finger.

Lando loved taking his kids to the track. His boys holding onto him in some way while he carried Arabella to the McLaren garage. His fellow drivers stopped the three of them to say hello to the boys and coo at just how cute Ari Norris was.

She really was cute, but that was what made her so damn dangerous.

For once, the boys were on their best behaviour as Lando took them into the McLaren garage. He almost couldn't believe it, but he stayed quiet. The moment he was to say something, they would have been running around, out of control.

He sat the boys in his drivers room with something to read while he carried Arabella around the garage on his hip.

"There she is," Oscar called as he grinned across the garage. Oscar Piastri loved Arabella Norris. But Arabella Norris did not love Oscar Piastri.

He cooed as he approached and Arabella giggled as she reached towards him. Acting as though she loved him. Nobody was ready for what was to come.

As soon as Ari was settled in her Uncle Oscar's arms, her face went red, screwed up, and she started screaming. Her cries were so damn loud, echoing through the garage.

It was an awful, horrible sound. Oscar's eyes went wide as he stared at the screaming child in his arms. "Lando!" He called, but not much could be heard over Ari's screaming.

But, the moment Lando heard his daughter screaming, he was making his way back across the garage. "C'mon, Ari," he mumbled as he took her and kissed the top of her head. "It's just your Uncle Osc." But there was no way she could hear him.

Sighing, Lando took her back to his drivers room. He bounced her until she calmed enough to fall asleep against him.

Arabella Norris wanted attention from her father and nobody else. The moment somebody that wasn't her father was holding her (with the occasional exception of her mother), she was screaming the house down for him.

The Broken Stuff

Hugo Norris was the clumsiest child in the world.

"Are you sure you've got it?" His mother asked as he began walking out of the kitchen with a glass of lemonade in his hands.

Hugo rolled his eyes. But the second he had done it, his face was flushing and he was full of regret. He should not have done that. "I got it, mama," he said and walked out of the kitchen.

For a little while, everything was fine. Mrs Norris listened out for the unmistakable sound of glass shattering as she cleaned up from lunch. But it never came, and she released a relieved breath.

But then she heard it. The unmistakable sound of glass shattering. "Oops," came Hugo's voice. His mother didn't hear it, though. She grabbed the dustpan and brush and went rushing to the room her middle child had disappeared into.

"Oh, Hugo," she mumbled.

Hugo didn't even have socks on. Placing the dustpan and brush down, she grabbed her child and carried him out of the room, placing him in the hallway. "I'll get you another drink in a minute, Hugs," she said and sent him up to his room (he wasn't in trouble, she just needed a moment to clean up.)

While she cleared up the shattered glass, things were quiet. Wyatt was reading in his room, Arabella was down for a nap, and Hugo was waiting for her to bring him a drink in a plastic cup. She loved her clumsy child, even if he was a little exhausting sometimes.

She didn't hear the second crash over the sound of the hoover, collecting up the tiny bits of glass that she couldn't see with her naked eye. Didn't realise anything had been broken until she headed upstairs with another drink for Hugo.

One of Lando's trophies was in several pieces on the floor. "Oh, Hugo," she mumbled for the second time that day. She walked a little further down the hall and knocked on Hugo's door.

When she pushed the door open, Hugo was hiding beneath his blankets. "Baby," she said as she sat on the end of the bed and placed the water on his bedside table. "Tell me honestly, did you break your fathers trophy?"

He sniffled. "He's gonna be so mad," He cried.

She shook her head. "No, baby. He'll understand and we can always get it fixed. You know, your father used to break trophies back in the day."

Hugo pulled the blanket away from his head. "He did?"

She laughed and launched into the story.

Back to the bedroom

The Norris's laughed as they recounted the stories of their little terrors. "Okay," Lando said, tossing the empty box of condoms to the floor. "Maybe we could do with one more," he said as he rested his body on top of her own. "What do you say mamas? Wanna make another?"

She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him closer. "One more couldn't hurt, I suppose," she giggled and kissed him.

That night, and every night for the next few weeks, was what led to her pregnancy. But it was expected and it was what they had wanted. Just one more baby.

Just. The. One.

At her twelve week scan, they found out they were having twins. Oh, she was going to kill her husband.

[paradiseprincesss]

please, please, please | jonathan crane

please please please by sabrina carpenter has been playing in my head nonstop...and the music video? that has jonathan crane and his gf written ALL over it. also i promise I AM WORKING ON REQUESTS i swear.

summary: you warn jonathan not to embarrass you at your dinner party — you know how he is sometimes. thankfully, disasters were avoided during dinner and as a reward, you let him try something new in the bedroom with you that he's been wanting to do.

warnings: smut, p in v, fingering, sex toys (butt plug), anal but only using the toy lol, jonathan kills someone, talk of dead bodies lmfao? mdni 18+ only

word count: 3.9k

masterlist

"what did you do?!" you whisper yell at jonathan, who was currently staring at you with hearts in his eyes and a sheepish smile.

"i didn't know he was going to react this way, swear it," he says quietly, "i just wanted to see what a concentrated dose would do."

you look at the man slumped over on your apartment couch, seemingly dead. you turn your head to jonathan silently, looking at him incredulously as he kept that sheepish smile plastered on his face.

your boyfriend, doctor jonathan crane, had "accidentally" — that's what he claims — murdered your electrician with a too high dose of his fear toxin. he swore that he had thought some man had broken into your house and he was only trying to protect you; which yes, you found sweet, but there was also the issue of the now dead electrician in your living room.

"i swear baby," he says with his hands up defensively, "i thought he broke in."

"i told you that the electrician was coming by today!"

jonathan laughs awkwardly for a moment, but he pulled you close and gave you a little kiss on the forehead. "i'm sorry darling. don't be mad, please."

you let him pull you close, relaxing into his touch, "jonathan, what are we supposed to do with his body? we have dinner guests coming over in less than two hours."

"i got it," he assures you, "don't worry. i'm sure if i just hide his body in the meantime, nobody will notice."

you groan, wriggling out of his grasp as you leave him to it. you get ready, doing your makeup and hair, before picking out on outfit for your dinner party.

you and jonathan recently moved in together, and though you had been dating for quite some time, he hadn't really met your friends all that much. sure, he'd seen them a handful of times, but you wanted your friends to get to know him better — i mean hey, they had asked to.

honestly, you thought you had good judgement and you thought you had good taste. i mean, you managed to snag a handsome, intelligent, financially stable doctor; what else could a girl ask for? and look — yes, you may of had a small, tiny, little track record of dating mentally unstable, dangerous, and wild men but you swore jonathan was different.

he wasn't unstable, dangerous and wild. no, no, no — he was calculated, precise and a murderer! three totally different traits than what you usually go for.

"look at you, baby," jonathan cooed as he watched you walk into the kitchen, "you're the prettiest, my god."

you blush, shaking your head bashfully as you pull him into a kiss, admiring his every feature. "i love you, jon."

"i love you, too."

"but listen to me," you say softly, trying your hardest to sound menacing, "you're a doctor — so act like one. please don't kill one of our guests or anything."

"only for you, darling." he says with a smile, hands resting on your hips.

the doorbell to your apartment rang, and you made your way to the door with jonathan, hand in hand. "oh, and one more thing," you say quickly reaching to unlock your front door, "i beg you, don't embarrass me, motherfucker."

jonathan holds back a laugh at your not-so-threatening threat as you let your friends in, and the night goes by without a hitch. you don't know where jonathan has hid the dead body in your apartment, but you don't care as long as your guests don't fucking find it.

"it was great getting to see you two again. you guys are so wonderful together. congratulations on the new place, by the way!" your friend tells you as you all wrap up dinner, a few of the other dinner guests still finishing off their wine.

"thank you!" you gush, smiling happily, "we really love it here, right jonathan?"

"yes, darling. it's quite lovely, isn't it?" he replies softly, caressing your hand with his.

"your patio is gorgeous, by the way — great view of the city. we should have a drink out there, it's still early!" another one of your guests suggests, and jonathan shoots you a look.

oh, so that's where he hid the body — on the fucking balcony where anyone could see.

"o-oh!" you stammer, "um, you know, the summer weather is great. wonderful, really — but like, isn't the inside of our brand new apartment just so lovely, too? like look at our new ceiling fan — wow."

your friend looks at you with a confused expression, and she laughs a little awkwardly. "yeah totally, the interior design is so...great."

"yeah, so i have a fun idea," you say rather enthusiastically, to which jonathan has to look away to stop himself from laughing, "maybe let's stay inside? i know your craving some fresh air, but the ceiling fan is so nice."

"darling," jonathan interrupts softly, smiling at you then looking at your friends, "why don't we just schedule a time another day to have drinks all together? i'd love to keep the night going, but i'm afraid i have to work particularly early tomorrow at the asylum."

everyone "ahh'd" in union as they respected what he did for work — he was one of gothams finest, most renown psychiatrists, after all. surprisingly, tonight it was jonathan saving you from slipping up instead of you coming to save him.

as your dinner guests left one by one, you shut the door and locked it as you turn to jonathan with a sweet smile. "thank you for that, i wasn't particularly planning on my friends seeing a dead body out on the balcony tonight."

"relax, baby," jonathan cooed, "i told you i'd handle it, right?"

you look up into your boyfriends beautiful, pale, blue eyes — for someone so notoriously dangerous, he sure was gentle and sweet with you. of course, jonathan did have a soft spot for you and you only.

he would openly admit it, too.

"right, sorry," you whisper as he leans down from his towering height to kiss you, "i trust you."

he hums in satisfaction, then captured your lips in a kiss. his gentle hands roamed across your body, and suddenly, jonathan was pulling you flush against him. through broken kisses and breathless panting, his hand found it's way to your neck. when he gave it a light, experimental squeeze, you moaned into the kiss — he knew this was exactly how to get you going.

"go to the bedroom," he commands softly, "and be ready when i get there, darling."

you look at him inquisitively for a second, but as soon as he raises a brow; you don't ask any questions. he goes into the living room to rummage around for something, and you make your way into your shared bedroom.

you slip out of your evening attire, keeping the lacy, black, intimate lingerie you had underneath on as you patiently wait on the bed for your boyfriend. after a few moments, he returns with something in his hands — a small, dainty, pink gift box with a white ribbon adorned around it.

"i was good for you tonight, right darling?" jonathan asked softly, handing the pink gift box over to you as you start to unravel the bow on top.

"of course you were." you sigh, smiling dopily at him.

he hummed as you opened the box and your eyes went wide, "well, now i want you to be good for me, baby."

inside the dainty, pink, gift box was a butt plug, and on the end of it was a shimmering, baby pink, sparkly gem. "jonathan," you blush profusely, "y-you wanna do...?"

"i just want you to try it out while i fuck you, darling. see how it feels — it's an experiment i've been wanting to try out with you for a while." he says lowly, watching you like a hawk as you took it out of the box.

"i've never done anything...there." you say shyly, and he kisses you gently; of course he'd see sex as a way to experiment.

this was a man of science we're talking about, after all.

"that's alright," he assures you with a quiet chuckle, "i'll guide you through it, okay? you trust me, don't you?"

"yeah," you giggle, "okay — fine, but just this once."

jonathan eyed you down in your black, lacy lingerie as you shuffled around on the bed, bending over as you reached for the lube in the bedside drawer. he had to stop himself from groaning aloud when he saw your already wet cunt soaking through your undergarments — all bent over and needy for his fat cock.

you tossed the bottle of lube over to the side of the bed, crawling over to jonathan as his eyes turned three shades darker at the sight. after you crawled into his lap, he slowly unhooked your very lacy, very see through bralette, slipping it right off your shoulders.

his hands immediately came to paw at your tits as you rested your head on his collarbone, leaning back at the feeling of his strong hands tweaking your perked up nipples.

"jonathan," you breathlessly moan, "please."

"be good for me, baby — be patient." he whispered against your ear, nipping it lightly.

his feather light touch traced down, further and further until he got to your underwear. his fingers hooked into the lace trim, gently and ever so slowly helping you out of the undergarment. you felt your breath hitch lightly as the cold air hit your bare, soaked core, and you leaned further back into jonathan.

jonathan — who by the way, was still fully clothed — swiped two fingers through your dripping folds gently, causing you to jump at the sudden pleasurable feeling. "you're soaked," he noticed, placing a kiss down your neck, "i've barely touched you."

"i-i know," you whimper, "but—"

"i bet you liked it when i said i wanted to experiment on you, hm? did that turn you on, darling? knowing that i'm studying your every reaction to my touch?"

you bit your lip as he spoke, cutting you off as you whimpered under his touch. yes — he was on the dot with his assumptions and observations. sure, you'd never used a butt plug before but hey, if it was with jonathan, you were pretty much down for anything.

"yes," you admitted breathlessly, "fuck, jon."

it was strange — the thought of him studying you during sex in such a...clinical way. it was a major turn on for you, in fact, you didn't know if you'd ever been so turned on before. jonathan proceeded to slowly insert a finger into your drooling hole, causing you to let out a choked moan.

"yeah, you're fucking dripping." he observed, peppering kisses down your neck and shoulders as you relaxed your head onto his. after he fucked you with one finger for no more than a minute, he was suddenly inserting another — it was no issue though, you were so wet that his second finger slipped in without resistance.

you arched your back instinctively, letting out choked, breathless moans as you whimpered his name sweetly. it was like music to jonathan's ears — hearing you fall apart as he carefully, slowly, and precisely turned you into nothing in just mere minutes.

"s-so close!" you squeaked out, and jonathan was suddenly drawing his fingers out of you, causing your jaw to drop and you to turn around to look at him with disbelief.

"i know," he cooed, "now, turn back around and get on all fours. face down, ass up."

you looked at him with surprise, but jonathan was always in control in the bedroom — this wasn't new by any means, but it sure was hot. listening and hanging onto his every word, you do as he asks, getting on all fours as you hear him shuffle around behind you.

with your ass up and your pretty face down, you bite your lip as you hear the pop of the lube bottle cap being opened. you gasp quietly as you feel a foreign, cold, silicone texture poke at your ass — it was almost embarrassing how wet this was making you.

"look at how wet you're getting, and i haven't even put the toy in your ass yet." jonathan chuckled lowly, feeling his cock straining so hard against his pants that he thought the zipper might pop open.

"s-shut up." you try to retaliate, but it comes out more like a broken, desperate plea.

"m'gonna push it in now, okay? not all the way, i promise i'll be gentle — and slow." jonathan says softly, his voice easing your nerves.

though you wished you could see his face, the thought was soon wiped from your mind as you felt the silicone toy being pushed into you, stretching your ass out. thankfully, it wasn't painful. it felt uncomfortable at first, but the more he pushed, the more you got used to the stretch.

"how's it feeling, baby?" jonathan asked lowly, watching your glistening cunt clench around nothing.

"s'okay," you respond, "is it almost all the way in?"

"almost, just a little more to go. you look so good like this, darling. letting me do whatever i want to you, and you just take it like a good girl."

his words made your cheeks burn, and you whine as you felt him give the toy one more gentle push into your ass. it felt good, surprisingly, but it also felt full. you felt full.

"is it hurting?" jonathan asked with concern, and you shook your head no, finally looking behind you as you saw his face.

his cheeks were dusted with a pink colour, and his lips looked plush. he was extremely turned on — that much was obvious with just the way he looked. your eyes trailed down to the tent in his pants; he was so hard it looked like his trousers were about to rip.

"feels really full, though," you giggle softly, "i'm guessing you like the view?"

"god, baby," he groans, "i wish you could see what i'm seeing right now — your ass up with a pretty, pink gemstone in it. all stretched out and waiting for me to fuck your pretty little cunt, hm?"

"mm, y-yeah." you moan as he reaches for your hips, gently turning you onto your back as he pushes you into the soft pillows.

the butt plug still felt a little odd to you as you switched positions, now laying on your back, but it felt good at the same time. as your mind was focused on the feeling of that, you look back up at jonathan to see him desperately trying to undress himself. as controlled and precise as the doctor was — he was a needy mess when it came to you.

"hurry up, doctor crane," you tease, biting your lip as he huffs, clearly affected by your little comment, "i'm so fucking wet—"

"i'm gonna fuck you till you can't think anymore," he interrupted, his voice strained, "you're going to be so full with my cum."

his suit jacket was long gone, and now so was his white button down and tie. his trousers had seemingly disappeared somewhere as well, and his leaking, hard, veiny cock sprung free, hitting his stomach lightly as he took it out.

within seconds, your legs were spread for him. pupils blown wide.m jonathan was positioned between your legs, the tip of his cock rubbing up against your dripping cunt, and you whined when he teased your folds. "how does it feel?" jonathan asks softly, just barely putting the head in, "you feel nice and full, darling? all stretched out?"

"s-so full," you pant, "but i need your cock — so badly."

he smirks to himself; his ego clearly being stroked with the way he had you, his beautiful girlfriend, in bed begging for him and letting him do whatever he pleases to any of your holes.

with a sudden thrust, he slid into you with ease from how slick your cunt was, and you gasped at the feeling of his cock filling you up. jonathan set a moderate pace; not too fast but not too slow, either.

"does it feel good, baby? having both your holes all stuffed?" he asks, fucking into you gently as you struggled to speak.

"y-yes!" you said to him, voice shaky, "feels so good, f-fuck—"

jonathan continued to thrust his thick cock into your tight, wet hole and within seconds, you were cockdrunk. your eyes rolled into the back of your head as you moaned his name over and over, incoherently begging for something. you weren't sure what exactly you were begging for, but as long as you were begging — jonathan was satisfied.

this is how he liked you — fucked out and willing to do anything for him. to be fair, he would do absolutely anything (and i mean anything, including murder), for you too. you were his girl, his everything, what he needed in his life — so naturally, nothing was off the table when it came to what he'd do for you.

but nothing beat the feeling of you submitting to him like this.

"god, you're already close, aren't you, my love?" jonathan asked softly, picking up his pace as his cock brushed up against your walls.

he was right — you were close. the way his thick, veiny cock stretched you open while you were stuffed with a toy in your other hole had you feeling ready to tip over the edge in just seconds. "insatiable," jonathan commented as he plowed into you faster and harder, "that's what you are, darling. look at my needy girl; she needs all over holes filled and stretched, all the fucking time."

his filthy, degrading (but also very hot) comments tipped you over the edge, and before you knew it — you were coming undone all over his cock as he groaned. a plethora of whines and pleas left your lips, but you were so gone from the way he was fucking you stupid, you didn't even realize what was said in that moment.

before you could register what was happening, jonathan pulled out of you quickly. he flipped you onto your stomach, being quite gentle with you, as he grabbed onto your hips, indicating he wanted you to be on all fours again. understanding what he was asking, you did what you knew to do — be face down, ass up.

"jesus," jonathan groans from behind you, giving your ass a light spank, "fuck, look at that."

you whine at the gentle spank he gave you, and his fingers brushed up against your other hole, where the butt plug was sitting. "j-jon," you whined, "please."

you heard him chuckle lowly, his cock brushing up against your folds once more as he slowly split you open on his cock. he was enjoying this far too much — the sight of you with that pink gemstone in your ass and the way your cunt took his cock deeper and deeper with every thrust? it was driving him insane.

"fucking beautiful," he groaned, "h-how'd you manage to get even tighter, baby?"

"f-feels so good, oh m-my god!" you started to scream into the pillows as one of jonathan's hands snaked down and started to rub at your clit.

as you were about to cum from the way he was rubbing your sensitive clit, he removed his hand which caused you to whine. he chuckled softly from behind you, fucking you into the mattress so deep and rough, you were for sure going to be sore for the next week to come.

suddenly, you gasped as your cunt started to flutter around jonathan's length. his hand that was previously on your clit, was now toying with the butt plug, teasingly pushing it in and out gently. he didn't pull it out all the way, but just ever so slightly — just enough so that every time he pushed it back in, you'd feel so full again.

"are you about to cum, baby?" jonathan asked sweetly, "are you about to cum on my cock?"

"f-fuck, yes! yes!" you screamed as jonathan fucked you even faster.

"s-shit, me too," he groaned, "come now, baby — fuuuck!"

as your vision went white and you creamed his cock, jonathan gave you a few more harsh thrusts before he spilled his cum into you. hot ropes of cum covered your walls, filling your hole up completely.

as both of you were coming down from your intense highs, jonathan pulled out after a moment. his cum started to leak from your cunt, and he took two fingers to push it back in — causing you to whine at the sensation.

his demeanour changed the second you two weren't fucking anymore — he was soft, doting, and loving towards you as soon as he cleaned you up. he helped you into his arms, pulling you close as the two of you curled up under the sheets in the crisp, cool, air-conditioned bedroom.

"that was something," jonathan says, being the first one to break the silence, "did you like it? i didn't hurt you, right?"

"no, you didn't hurt me at all, baby," you laughed softly, kissing him on the cheek, "and yeah, it was really ejoyable."

"i see. well, i'm glad you enjoyed it, darling." he smiles at you lovingly, pulling you into a gentle, passionate kiss.

as you wrapped your arms around his neck, you looked up at your devoted boyfriend with the most loving, adorable, and kind look that jonathan had ever seen. "i love you, jonathan. that was fun."

"i love you too, darling," he says, but he pauses before getting up with a sigh, "i'm sorry to cut this moment short, my dear, but i do believe that i have a certain...body to dispose of in a timely manner."

"you and your pillow talk, jonathan. it never seizes to amaze me — last week it was about that patient you terrorized at work and this week, it's the dead electrician on our balcony." you said with a small smile, biting your lip as you teased your deranged, doctor boyfriend.

"well, all i can say is that i'm lucky to have you in my life, my dear." he said softly, looking at you with those gorgeous, pale, icy blue eyes of his. "i truly do love you."

as he turned around to look at you once more time before leaving the bedroom to go deal with the body on the balcony, you smile at him sweetly. he had his bodies on the balcony and you had your skeletons in your closet — you just understood him.

everyone has their ghosts, right? and plus, as long as nobody else knew about the whole scarecrow and murderer thing, then it would be fine. it would aways be fine.

"i truly love you too, jonathan," you said after a moment, and you could've sworn that you saw the scarecrow himself start to blush, "but if you wanna go and be stupid, don't do it in front of me."

he shakes his head on his way out — presumably to dispose of the body in ways you didn't really want to know of. jonathan's voice called out back to you as he made his way to the balcony doors.

"noted, my love!"

@girlinterrupted505 @ciriceimpera @jordyn-yeager @thevelvetvampyre @galactict3a

@xanaxiii @nocturnest @psylrd @bloodandglitter207 @humbuginmybones 

@oceanstem @futurefamousdeadmusician @jonathancraneslittlepet @dolleyednymphette @kpopgirlbtssvt 

@ll4n4 @ilovetoxicfictionalmen @the-buddy-things @ellebelleshelby @wiseyouthinfluencer 

@aprilsfrog05 @minedofmoria @strangeobsessed @5tud10-54r4h @franzine-xii @stsrfujid

[eupheme]

Your best friend Wade who always jokingly flirts with you the way he flirts with everyone - and you hate it because you have a real genuine crush on him and the flirting doesn’t mean anything… does it? It has to take a mutual friend to be like “oh my god he’s in love with you and doesn’t know how to tell you, so that’s why he’s always joking about boners” (please and thank u ilu 😌)

omg avo this kicked my ass, the amount of pining for Wade as he (jokingly, you think) flirts with you would be off the charts 🥲💖 I wrote a little drabble with how that might go, I love you and your ideas - thanks so much for sending this to me!!!

— cause every time we touch (i get this feeling)

best friend!wade wilson x mutant!reader

<1k | flirting, dirty jokes, heaps of pining

Blow job. Leg Spreader. Slippery Nipple. Liquid Viagra. Sex on the Pool Table. Pink Silk Panties.

Each time Wade comes into Sister Margaret’s - which is four or five times a week - he asks for dirtier and more obscure drinks.

"Wishful thinking", he tells you, each time.

Even with the roll of your eyes, you have to admit that it keeps you on your toes. That you look forward to seeing your best friend so often - tamping down the jolt in your belly, night after night.

Reminding yourself that yes, he got you this job, but he's not here to see you.

That this always was his spot.

It had been an easy sell. Used to working overnight shifts - security, back then. After the disaster with Weasel, they had been desperate for a replacement. Wade had come to you immediately, dropping to his knees as you opened the door.

Winning you over with a "you could literally get paid to hang out with me. How is this not a win-win-win? How is this not your dream job?"

And here, you didn't have to hide what or who you were. Reading feelings and intent were a bonus, when a handshake could tell you everything you needed to know. Their feelings spilled as easily as they were written, when you were negotiating contracts.

It also helped in-house. A human lie detector. Able to break up fights, settle arguments. A party trick, when things got slow. The regulars trying to get things past you - tales based in truth spun tall, seeing when you'd catch them.

Wade never plays, but you think that's because you know him so well.

And what seems like a sell, quickly evolves into more. Warping, as days pass. Spending more time with a crush sounds tempting, on paper.

The reality is something else.

Yes, there is a seat saved for him at the bar. Literally saved - his name scrawled across the vinyl, and you still haven't been able to scrub it out. Stopping by at all hours to chit chat.

Teasing you - how he's "so glad he doesn't have to stalk you at your old job anymore". An over-the-top sigh about being relieved that you're safe now - in your new job, surrounded by mercs.

Begging for the best job. Puppy-dog eyes. Fake coupons for favors that would make a sinner blush. Crossing his heart that you could have anything, and he means anything you wanted, if he could only get "that thing involving the murder clowns".

It's enough to make you hope.

Later, at home - in the early hours as you're pulled under. Replaying his comments. The filthy jokes and the shameless flirting - wondering if that's all they were.

Wondering if he'd be waiting for you tomorrow, perched on his stool.

But there's the downfall.

You see him - but you also see him with everyone else.

The charming smiles. Head thrown back in a laugh as he works the room. A friend to all, and as you watch him - perched on the knee of a goddess of mercenary as he yaps away, you can't help the swift current of jealousy.

Of foolishness.

It's enough that you're almost regretting agreeing.

Your mood is sullen, as you wipe down glasses. Trying to ignore the ache when you see him flirt. That realization that the something special you thought he had with you, might just be a part of his personality.

And when Dopinder shuffles from the back with more ice for the chiller behind the bar, it only takes one look at you before he's sighing.

"Not again. Please, I am begging you. I cannot take more of your yearning.”

Your lips quirk. Hadn't realized you'd become that obvious. He'd become your go-to, in the long hours you spend together behind the bar. Pinkie-promising not to say a word - but you always thought you'd had a decent handle on your expressions.

"We don't have to talk about it." Your hands raise, placating, "Just let me yearn in peace. I'll get over it."

"You know that almost half of what DP makes a month is funneled back in here, right?" He gives you a long look, "Before you, I saw him once a week. I had to beg him to come get his paycheck."

Doubt still lingers.

"Doesn't mean anything," You shrug - eyes dropping, as you help him restock.

"You do not think Mr. Pool worships the ground you walk on?"

The intensity of his question has you side-eying him, "I mean... I don't think he sees me that way. He acts the same with me as he does with everyone."

“Sure.” He huffs, leaning against the bartop, just as Wade plunks down in the seat in front of you.

“God, I haven’t been over here in like-,” Wade checks a fake watch, “Fifteen minutes? Feels like longer. Felt like a fucking hour.”

Pivoting back and forth on the stool as he adds, “Is it possible for people to get separation anxiety? Or is that just dogs? Is this how Dogpool feels when I’m gone?”

You just manage to catch the last bit, as Dopinder slips away.

“Exactly the same.”

Tonight, Wade is the first person that sits down in front of you for the game.

A frown, as you peel off your gloves - your barrier, to the outside world.

His own already bare - sliding back-and-forth over his suit-clad thighs. You'd mistake it for nerves, if you weren't so sure Wade had never been nervous in his life.

"What's your story, Wilson?" You ask, "Hope you brought something good."

"Oh, it's a whopper. A real fucking doozy. Apparently, you're not gonna believe it. " His laugh is a little too loud, and your eyes narrow, "But let's give it a whirl, okay?"

There's a flicker, behind the bar. A sideways look towards the bar, where Dopinder's hands cover his face. You don't need to touch him to read the guilt written across his features - the way he almost flinches, under your glare.

You're going to fucking kill him.

The sound of your name brings you back.

“Ready to play?”

Wade's hands rest face-up on the table - an offering. For once in his life he almost looks serious, and it’s enough to bring you back.

A breath - before you align your own. Letting them drop down, skin mapping against skin for the first time.

It floods through you.

The lick of heat that almost feels like a caress. A deep yearn that causes your own heart to twinge, layering with the feeling of need. Desire. Want.

It's familiar. It mirrors something deep inside, something that’s become as much a part of you as flesh and bone.

Oh.

A laugh slips from you, breaking the beat of silence. Relief tinged with disbelief - your smile stretching wide.

“Yeah?” You breathe, softening.

“Yeah.” He laughs, “Thought I was being obvious. But you are pound-cake dense, apparently.”

Hands flipping over, to entwine between yours. Letting that feeling inside him linger, settling warm and comforting over your bare skin.

“But I like that about you.” Another huff of a laugh, “Like all of you, really. Always have.”

It makes your heart ache. In a way that finally feels full, feels right - instead of the near-agony you’ve been bearing for weeks.

Only you could be such an idiot.

thanks for reading! 💖

[meidiary]

( 📁 ) THEM ACTING OVERLY JEALOUS

synopsis: the monster trio and how they act when they're way too jealous for their own good...

characters: luffy, sanji & zoro!

warnings: a teeny tinyyy amount of swearing [:

a/n: first time writing for them so i'm pretty nervous!!! , hope you enjoy!! banner is made by me, inspired by the lovely @sixosix and the layout is inspired by the lovely @luckyscribbles <3

it was his fault! it really was.. he was the sole reason you were entertaining this way too confident guy- because he told you that he was out of your league! can you believe that?! and now ZORO is throwing daggers at the poor man just with his piercing gaze alone..

ignoring zoro's needy angry glares he's sending you two, you continue charming your ... acquauntance, growing his already far too stretched ego. "oh darling, how i could melt in those beautiful emerald colored eyes of yours~" and with that sanji cringe-worthy comment you got him babbling on about himself... again.

you're getting progressively more annoyed the longer you hear him try to flirt with you. nonetheless you don't move an inch, because you know he's watching your every move; waiting for you to come moping to him about the guy. he'd feel a sense pride because you came back to him. and that pride, the face he makes whenever he turns out to be right about something, albeit it's a very handsome one, is the last thing you want to witness right now.

so you keep yourself from throwing this guy's drink in his face and telling him his cologne is absolutely murdering your sense of smelling.

you look up as you suddenly stop hearing the random guy talk about some castle garden of his. he gulps hesistantly whilst zoro stands before you, hands in his pockets. "we're leaving." no you're not! "oh zoro~ i barely-" "now." you stand up and turn to leave, but quickly turn back around and give the stranger a kiss on his cheek before leaving with zoro, causing his cheeks to change to a red-shade.

"miss! will i ever see you again?!" he asks before backing up seeing zoro's death glare. "my love, if we are meant to be we will definitely meet again!" what's up with you and these shakespear lines?

zoro gives you a slight shove with his shoulder as he rolld his eyes for what seems like the millionth time this hour. "i think i found my soulmate zoro!" you sang while you interlocked you arm with his. you were met with yet another eye-roll.

"you were the one that said he's out of my league, remember?" zoro huffs annoyed. "shit- that was a joke damn it!" "if anything you're out of his fucking league, dumbass" you lean onto him as you two continue making your way back to the going merry.

"maybe i exaggerated a bit too.." you slowly admit before hearing his usual chuckle. "just don't go flirting with some stranger again, ever. shit could've gone wrong real fast y'know?" you smile sheepishly and nod. "good thing you were there huh?"

and you could've sworn you say his cheeks turn into a rose color before he swiftly turned his head to the side, greeting sanji and nami. was he blushing..?

SANJI was this close.. this close to absolutely losing it and slicing this daring man up with zoro's swords. who does he think he is? flirtingly, charmingly speaking with his lover?! well truth be told.. you two weren't official, far from it actually;

you two were so close to finally having the months-due talk about the classic, what are we-question. but of course sanji had to hit on the waitress that casually passed your table. that was your final straw. if he couldn't stop his antics for one night, you would resume yours for good.

and oh how it made him clench his fists so hard they became white, how it made him ignore all the beautiful ladies surrounding him, for what felt like the first time ever, how he saw you with your pretty dress on, that he bought for you because it reminded him of you, sat on some navy's lap, entertaining the bastard not worhty of a single enchanting smile of yours. yet there you were smiling, no laughing at something the navy said, all while you were supposed to be with sanji. laughing at something he said, playing with his hair, sat on his lap.

he was this close to exploding and increasing his bounty a good amount by punching this navy untill his fists fell off. "sanji, don't you fucking dare." nami warned him, glaring at him from the other side of the table, not in the mood to be on the run again after finally being able to relax for a day.

sanji heard nami, he did! but the minute he saw the disgusting navy's hand run up your thigh causing you to jump off of him, he finally lost it. "keep your fucking hands off her you sewer rat!" he jumped up sprinting at the navy, his snow-white fists ready to release all the pent up anger he held.

but before sanji got to the navy he was stopped by you. your soft, slightly cold hands holding back one of his clenched fists. causing him to slowly unclench it. you tried to push sanji back, knowing his uproar would bring about another navy chasing. "you alright, love?" it's as if all his previous anger vanished the moment he felt your soft touch, smelled you sweet perfume, the moment you felt like his again. "y-yeah i'm good.. but we should get goi-"

"WHAT DID YOU CALL ME?!" the navy man roared causing the others to swiftly join the yelling. "hey aren't those those strawhat pirates with a bounty?!" from the other side of the room it felt like you could hear nami's long sigh. "see what you've done?! grab zoro, usopp and i will take luffy!" everyone complied and assumed their role.

sanji lifted his leg up ready to kick zoro awake right before you pushed him slightly making him stand on two feet again. "not doing that sanji!" he playfully rolls his eyes at your statement.

waking up zoro and running to the ship in a hurry, with a good 3 dozen navy soldiers running behind you calling you names, was the usual. but what surprised you was sanji holding your hand tightly the whole way, not letting go for a second.

once on the ship, back to sailing on the waters, while everyone was catching their breath, sanji took you aside, he interlocked your hands with his while he locked your gazes, still breathless he looks at you earnestly. his eyes illuminating the moon's glow. "i'll stop the flirting my darling, i promise. the only woman i'll charm will be you.. so you better not grow tired of it." he chuckled still a little breathless. you smiled, leaning your body onto his. "you better sanji.."

"i'm all yours sweetheart. all yours"

LUFFY felt weird. he had never met this man before, yet he suddenly has the urge to gum gum bazooka him for the rest of the day. why is he feeling this way right now? is it because he hadn't eaten yet? no that can't be it.. he just had a very good meal with you; you two had split up from the rest of the crew to have your lunch at some fancy looking restaurant on the beach.

luffy furrows his eyebrows once again because of this feeling. he figures, after a while to be completely honest, that the reason he wants to kick this man off the island is that he's taking way too long speaking with you. he's been occupying you for a good 10 minutes now.

how could he? how did he dare to take you from him so carelessly? you two were enjoying your meals, yes you were chatting about the dumbest subjects known to the world, but you were enjoying it. and then some buff man comes and dares to ask you for directions?! it would've been fine if he had left after receiving them, but no, he had to keep talking to you!

luffy was starting to see red at this point. he gets it he does, you're a beautiful woman, you're smart yet very funny, energetic and enjoyable! but you're his. even though you don't know that, even though he never told you that, you are his. and no buff, tall, slick back haired guy was going to change that one bit.

luffy dropped his food and started to walk towards the two of you, angrily eyeing the bold man who was about to get bazooka-d to some far-away island. luffy started stretching his arms, getting ready to send him off.

you notice right away and block luffy's path to the man. trying to laugh it off, you said your goodbyes to the fella and dragged luffy back to the restaurant. "what were you thinking, luff! that could've ended up horribly!" you whisper-yelled, not wanting to attract any more unwanted gazes.

"he took you from me for 10 minutes! how was I supposed to endure any longer!" luffy childishly pouts as he resumes eating. "you could've just said so! no need to bazooka anyone anywhere luf'!" his furrowed eyebrows soften as he hears his nickname.

the first time you called him that he truly hated it. "it sounds like a dog's name!" he complained. but over time, that nickname became apart of him, it was apart of his daily routine; he'd wake up to it, adventure the world with it, buy groceries with it, hear scolds with it. he became one with that silly nickname you gave him, and he wouldn't give that three-letter name up for the world. he wouldn't be able to go a day anymore without hearing you talking about how "the seashells here are so pretty luf'!", or how "i just love it when it's only you and i, luf'," and let's not forget you waking him up with the usual "luf'! sanji finished breakfast, get up already!".

"you can't go off with weird men. i won't let you.. you shouldn't leave my side for some guy that doesn't even know where he's headed!" you chuckle at his remarks. "i wouldn't leave you for anyone luf'! just.. don't bazooka someone next time.. just talk to me."

"you're mine y'know.." luffy tells you while he's munching on some of his cold meat. your eyes widen at his sudden words. "w-what?" "i said you're mine!" he says louder, a little annoyed thinking you hadn't heard him the first time. "you never said that before.."

"never needed to," he takes another bite. "but you are, so don't forget that!" he furrows his eyebrows again while saying that earning a chuckle from you. "i won't.. don't you worry"

NOTE: and that's for my first one piece ficcccc!!!