#from prompts

[scarsandmoons]

The Supreme

The buttons on her dress are mine to play with, to manipulate as I see fit.

Her every movement, her every expression, is under my meticulous scrutiny.

Oh, how I relish the authority that my position affords me.  

The queen.

With her regal bearing and lofty status, is, in reality, at my mercy.

The rules of royalty, the protocols of the court—they are my arsenal, my weapons of choice in this battle for control. With every meticulously enforced regulation, every sternly delivered command, I tighten the invisible chains that bind her. 

She may wear the crown, but it is I who hold the keys to her cage.

To see her tremble at the mere suggestion of disobedience, to witness the fear that flickers behind her carefully composed facade—it sends a thrill coursing through my veins. She may command the kingdom, but I command her.

I.

A mere maid in the grand palace.

Not just any, the lowest of the lowest.

The one even maids command.

To do the dirtiest works of the queen, fit her dress, choose her jewellery, move all around the palace and get to the queen, the orders of the queen dowager.

I walk softly. 

Within the confines of my own mind, she is nothing more than my doll to manipulate, my puppet to pull the strings of. Her every movement, her every word, is carefully knitted by my hand. And while outwardly I remain the picture of obedience, inwardly I revel in the power I wield over her.

As I go about my daily tasks as a humble maid in the royal palace, I find perverse delight in the simple acts that afford me control over the queen's life. Every mundane chore, every seemingly innocuous action becomes a means of exerting my influence over her.

Preparing her bath, is not just a matter of fetching water and soap. It is an opportunity to dictate the temperature of the water, to determine how long she may linger in its comforting embrace, To restrict her comfortness but limiting her time, to test her patience by adding more perfume.

"Why so much?" she asks rudely. The arrogance of being the queen, spilling with each splash, as each droplet caresses her skin.

"B-But, m-my queen, t-the queen dowager ordered, f-for you to be a l-little more pretty than usual, a-as there will be s-some--", 

I stutter.

"Alright, do it, but don't over do it." she spats.

But I,  the most lowly maid in the whole of the royal palace, did not fail to notice the shiver that she tried to hold back, once she heard the orders of the queen dowager. Of course, living up to the expectations of in-laws is pressurable, but assume becoming the queen, after begging the queen dowager, to be allowed to marry the crown prince, extremely painful. That is, unless you live upto their expectations. 

And, yet again,

I am reminded of my power over her.

Dressing her is another task that I approach with meticulous attention to detail. The choice of attire, the arrangement of her jewels—these are not merely matters of aesthetics, but strategic moves in my game of manipulation. I select garments that accentuate her beauty while subtly reinforcing her status as my puppet.

And then there are the royal rules, the codes of conduct that govern her every move. I enforce them with an iron will, using them as a means of cagingher autonomy and reminding her of her subservience. The mere mention of the king's mother's name sends shivers down her spine—a proof of the control I wield over her psyche.

Choosing her venues and scheduling her activities are tasks that I approach with relish. I select events that will showcase her in the best light while subtly undermining her confidence. Each engagement becomes a carefully orchestrated performance, with me pulling the strings from behind the scenes.

But it is not just in these overt displays of power that I find satisfaction. It is in the subtle nuances of our interactions—the way her eyes widen in fear when I enter the room, possibly because she thought I brought some information from the king's mother, the way her voice trembles when she asks me what it is, always thinking she was good at acting as if she didn't feel her stomach churn. It is in these moments that I am reminded of my dominance over her.

And so, as I go about my duties as a maid in the royal palace, I do so with a sense of sadistic pleasure, knowing that with each soap I prepare, each garment I select, I am further solidifying my hold over her.

The Queen.

[generaltrashshecox]

From the lrb:

kisses. on. the. tip. of. the. nose. - so antmien coded. I'm sorry I just know Anthony loves to get Damien all flustered and blushy and he already loves forehead kisses so these are even sweeter and he is usually a mess afterwards not knowing what to donor say cheeks blazing. Anthony loves it.

keeping a few of their favorite snacks in the house for when they visit. - Damien keeping some of Anthony's favorite vegan snacks in stock for when he comes over and Anthony's heart is warm 🥺

absentmindedly playing with their hair at all times - they both do do this. Damien's hands usually find themselves buried in Anthony's curls when they're just sitting together parallel hanging out because he loves the feel of it. It's like a fidget and he loves it. Anthony just loves to play with Damien's hair the silver really contrasting as he runs his fingers through it.

fixing their clothes a little for them when noticing something is off - okay but like... This is just canon shian?? I've seen videos where Ian fixes Shayne's shirts just a little or takes a hair or fuzz off and it's just so ajjsj

Anyways those are my thoughts ansm

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[lilliesand-valleys]

[mischievous-thunder]

Wade changed the entire narrative and saved their souls. In fact, he tied their souls together.

[wickcipher]

*steve oof sound*

[versias]

The Joker is Dead (and always has been)

Danny is attending Gotham U and gets caught up in a Joker escapade and realizes the clown is, in fact, a ghost.

Suddenly everything makes an insane amount of sense: the fact that no one has killed a psycho with seemingly human-normal abilities yet, that Arkham can’t keep him for more than a week, the obsessive behavior, the appearance.

Honestly, Danny should have clocked this before he even met the spook.

And Danny doesn’t want to step on any toes, really. The Bat and the Joker have A Thing going on. But, the Batman just isn’t equipped to really put a ghost away. No wonder there’s a breakout from Arkham every couple of months. How many other Gotham rogues are obsessive ghosts haunting the city?

Joker doesn’t display any of the usual ghost powers he associates with his own “rogues”—who’ve really become more like unwanted relatives over the years what with their dropping in uninvited, making a mess, and then ditching before they had to help clean.

It strikes Danny, as he’s being tied up by the clown-costumed goons, that maybe the Joker doesn’t know.

Huh.

How does he broach the topic in a sensitive way?

“Hey, uh. Not to be rude but… You know you’re dead, right?”

Danny winces. Not like that, probably.

The Clown Prince of Crime stops in front of him, the crazed light in his eyes dimmed slightly by confusion. He glances back and forth between Danny and the students around him who are shying away from their insane classmate. (Which is. Fair.)

A menacing giggle warbles from the specter’s throat. He leans into Danny’s bubble, that eerie grin stretching somehow wider.

“Ohhhh really?” The clown draws it out and Danny can hear the crackle of static in the high notes. Honestly. How did no one figure this out before? “And are you gonna kill me, hmm? Have I got a widdle hero in my bait tank?”

“No, no, I mean, it’s not… you’re not… like? You’re not alive,” Danny rambles, trying to clarify and failing utterly. “You’re already dead.”

The Joker tilts his head, eyes dilating and glowing toxic green. He considers what Danny said, then throws his head back and cackles like a hyena.

The ghost doubles over, even, laughing so hard it sounds like he’s gonna bust something. He puts a white-gloved hand on Danny’s shoulder for support and squeezes, just shy of hurting.

After an uncomfortably long moment, the ghost wipes imaginary tears out of his eyes and pats Danny on the back so hard he stumbles and falls to his knee.

“You’re a riot, kid! If I didn’t have a date already planned…”

He trails off and ambles away, still chuckling and muttering to himself. “And they say I’m crazy! Wait til Bats hears about this!”

Danny watches him go, despondent.

It’s always harder when they don’t know.

This is gonna be a mess.

[havenshereagain]

DPxDC Idea

Danny working at Wayne Enterprises as some sort of engineer, uses the in-house app for all his blueprints and stuff

He starts getting notes from a coworker in-app, and assumes its this annoying older guy in his department who constantly undermines him because of his age, despite his education and past achievements (i feel like in this AU the Fentons react well to the reveal and they work together on a number of non-lethal ecto inventions that have Danny's name attached to them)

Except one day his coworker mentions never using the app, and Danny suddenly realizes there's only one other TD he could've been arguing with in the notes of the app

[peachespits]

i’m SO curious about the different things people around the world drink and eat and keep in the fridge to make meals with so could you please reblog this with photos of the inside of your fridge and freezer

[literaryvein-reblogs]

other words to use instead of walk?

Advance - to move forward; proceed

Amble - to go at or as if at an easy gait

Canter - to move at or as if at a canter (i.e., a 3-beat gait resembling but smoother and slower than the gallop)

Footslog - to march or tramp through mud

Hike - to take a long walk especially for pleasure or exercise

Journey - travel from one place to another

Lumber - to move ponderously

March - to move in a direct purposeful manner

Meander - to wander aimlessly or casually without urgent destination

Mosey - to move in a leisurely or aimless manner

Pace - to walk with often slow or measured tread

Pad - to traverse on foot

Parade - to march in or as if in a procession

Patrol - keep watch over (an area) by regularly walking or traveling around or through it

Perambulate - to travel over or through especially on foot

Plod - to walk heavily or slowly

Prance - to walk or move in a spirited manner

Promenade - take a leisurely public walk, ride, or drive so as to meet or be seen by others

Prowl - to move about or wander stealthily in or as if in search of prey

Ramble - to move aimlessly from place to place; to explore idly

Roam - to go from place to place without purpose or direction; also to travel purposefully unhindered through a wide area

Saunter - to walk about in an idle or leisurely manner

Shamble - to walk awkwardly with dragging feet

Shuffle - to move or walk in a sliding dragging manner without lifting the feet

Slog - to plod heavily

Stalk - to walk stiffly or haughtily

Step - to move (the foot) in any direction

Stride - to move over or along with or as if with long measured steps

Stroll - to walk in a leisurely or idle manner

Strut - to walk with a proud gait

Stump - to walk over heavily or clumsily

Toddle - to walk with short tottering steps in the manner of a young child

Tour - make a tour of (an area); a short trip to or through a place in order to view or inspect something

Traipse - to walk or travel about without apparent plan but with or without a purpose

Traverse - to move or pass along or through; to move back and forth or from side to side

Tread - to step or walk on or over

Trek - to make one's way arduously

Troop - to go one's way

Trudge - to walk or march steadily and usually laboriously

Wander - to move about without a fixed course, aim, or goal

Hope this helps. If it inspires your writing in any way, please tag me, or leave a link in the replies. I would love to read your work!

[ghost-bxrd]

Prompt:

Jason insists on being the bait for a joint mission with the Bats. But the moment he starts “screaming” during the interrogation process, Batman calls the whole thing off and smashes right through the window and into the first thug.

Absolutely nobody is surprised by this development. Except Jason.

[lotus-pear]

horrendously late entry for @luneariann’s dtiys!! congrats on one million ely i’m so proud of you <3

[mischievous-thunder]

Deadpool and Wolverine is a fanfic in the movie form that feels as much like a fever dream as a rom-com. The content creator only gave it an R rating as an umbrella term which includes all of the following ao3 tags:

Canon-Typical Violence, Blood and Gore, Canon Divergence, Multiverse, Meet Ugly, Enemies to Friends, Age Difference, Bickering, Undeniable Sexual Tension, Mutual Pining

Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional/Psychological Abuse, Survivor Guilt

Pain Play, Car Sex, BDSM, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Porn with Feelings, Aggressive Sex, Orgasm Denial, Edging, Power Play, Cock Tease, No Refractory Period

Semi-Public Sex

Accidental Striptease

Friends to Lovers, Fluff and Cuddling, Domestic Banter, Falling in Love, Getting together, Idiots in Love, Old Married Couple in Spirit, Additional Tags to be Added...

[ghostbsuter]

"You're an ancient." Zatanna breaths out, watching as Phantom's hair grew into a startling black, tiny stars being born and the comets flying.

"I am."

Breaking from her shock, she shakes her head. "You show mercy. Not many gods of their home do so."

Phantom agrees with her. "Not many of these gods have been born human before."

[yeoldenews]

A selection of strange and cryptic personal ads from The New York Herald, 1860s to 1890s. 14/?