#threadpull

[vitalphenomena]

@threadpull // jonathan

SPIRIT DOESN'T SLEEP OFTEN. However! People always seem to want to interrupt her doing those few hours of rest she does manage to sneak into her busy schedule of partying, dealing, fucking, etc.

Most often, it's Harris busting down the door over something trivial, like hundreds of dollars she owes or some man she shouldn't have pissed off (some man other than Harris, I mean). She wishes she could tell herself how nice it is to feel wanted, in those moments, truly sought after by somebody, but—fuck. For once, sleep is an even higher priority than her insatiable need to be needed.

Her phone buzzes, lights up.

Incoming call: scare cerow

Half-asleep, she can't remember them making any plans on this day, at this hour. She has no plans at all! That's why she's alone, in bed, trying to repair her brain by getting in some decent REM. She rejects the call. She snuggles into her beat-up, mascara-stained pillow. (Laundry should have also been on her agenda for today. It was not. Her pillowcases, faded and rough to the touch, will remain Like This.)

Incoming call: scare cerow

Holy shit. Hang up!

Incoming call: scare cerow

Incoming call: scare cerow

As he must have anticipated: Spirit, worn down (and, yes, sickly curious, a little gleeful), relents. She accepts the call.

Slurring and barely conscious, she mumbles into the phone: "I was dreaming I had to move, and there were so many stairs. We couldn't find the apartment. What the fuck?"

[riddlesnap]

But what IS Ed’s greatest fear? You know. For research purposes. :3c Definitely not for Jon to jot down.

"I know what you're doing, Crane. Skulking around with those papers, asking these silly questions - you're trying to psychoanalyze me." Edward says, with more triumph in his voice than he should have considering who he was speaking to. It's unwise but he can't help himself. The very idea that he, Edward Nigma, could succumb to such pathetic, primitive notions rankles him, his tongue instantly flying to his defence. His greatest fear? Once, Edward had feared many things - his father, the anticipation of pain whenever he angered or upset the older man, of failure and the inability to prove himself far better than anybody had ever dreamed him capable of being. He'd even feared Batman for a while, that prancing thug masquerading as a hero before Edward logically realized he was simply a petty brute in a cowl, a cheater and a crook of the highest order whom only stupid people fawned over. But none of this would he admit to Jonathan. To Edward, fears were merely chemical reactions, primal instincts guiding the logical mind away from harm and foul play. Higher minds like his had learned to forgo the entrappings of the lizard brain, that fear was merely an evolutionary sentiment holding humanity back. So he scoffed, heedless of the idea that Jonathan might very well take his attitude as a challenge. "Well, too bad for you. You should know I'm nothing like those simpletons whose tiny minds you can get into with a few well-placed words. I know how you work so you can forget trying to scrabble around for what Edward Nigma is afraid of. I am above such sentiments!" Edward sneered, his thin face twisted into an ugly sneer as he watched Jonathan pace in the shadows. Fear was just a sentiment, wasn't it? Edward had nothing to fear, not anymore now his father was an aging drunk who was no doubt currently drinking away his meagre wages while the two of them spoke. Batman was on the other side of the city, too far from either of them to start landing punches. The GCPD were all tied up as they were every night, leaving him quite free to... to... Well, he was quite alone at this very moment, wasn't he? Alone with Crane, who was still quietly pacing back and forth and back and forth in the shadows, smell of alcohol still lingering between them. Edward wrinkled his nose. Curse Crane for making him think of Nashton.

[svjetllost]

“No. I don’t want anyone else in this restaurant.” The waitress blinked slowly, her expression smoothing into that vacant, cheerful obedience he’d seen so many times before. She smiled, of course she did, and turned on her heel without a word, vanishing behind the kitchen wall.

This place was one of his favorites in the city; it was quiet, tucked away, and entirely too charming to be spoiled by the noise of strangers and their whiny offspring. The idea of enduring chatter, clinking cutlery, or the smell of someone else's regrettable menu choice was offensive. Thankfully, he didn’t have to. He already had the only person he wanted across the table.

“I ordered for both of us,” he said smoothly, resting back with a smug kind of satisfaction. “Trust me, I know what’s best here.” He gestured idly with a hand, eyes fixed on her. “Now... you were telling me about your latest case?”

Behind the wall, the rest of the staff stood silent, lined up neatly, backs brushing plaster, eyes glued to the door. Should anyone try to enter, they would be stopped before their first step. Otherwise, they would remain exactly where they were. Still. Quiet. Out of sight. Just the way he liked it.

He leaned in, slow and deliberate, fingers brushing a loose strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb lingered just a moment too long on her cheek, light, possessive, like he was straightening something that already belonged to him.

“There. Much better.”

She looked perfect, of course she did. He'd chosen the suit himself, after all. The cut was impeccable, and the color was just right. Hair swept up the way he liked it, even if a few defiant strands had slipped loose to frame her face. He didn’t mind. It added a touch of softness.

It was a beautiful morning, really. And he sincerely hoped nothing ruined it. “I’d hate to be… irritated.” The way he said it was light. Polite, even. But underneath, it pulsed with quiet threat, like the edge of a knife hidden behind a silk ribbon.

@threadpull liked for a shippy starter!

[fartemis-crock]

"If you keep yawning like that, you might break your jaw." / jon, who is going to MAKE her sleep!!!!!!!!!!

sleepy. @threadpull

was she yawning?

she had to be. she had to. ---but the comment is enough to make her freeze. eyes slitting over to jon, making a face of confusion as if she had absolutely no idea what he was talking about.

"it's fine, i'm fine." the words are said pre-emptivelty;; as her gaze drops back down to the task at hand. ---which, for the record, wasn't really a task. but, in an effort to stay awake, artemis had decided to pick through an atlas as jon talked. flipping back and forth between pages as she fought the growing urge to sleep.

it hasn't even been two days. she shouldn't be this tired yet. ---but she makes no effort to move. instead eyes, once again, find him. looking at him with furrowed brows as she attempted to brush away any signal of exhaustion from her face. "--not yawning at you. just, uh--- need some more coffee, y'know?"

[incangencence]

@threadpull liked this post for a touch of angst

The case of liquor slipped through Gene’s fingers with a crash loud enough to wake the dead, glass flying in every direction as bottles exploded against the concrete floor of the bar’s back store room.

One second the body was there. On the ground, lying before her in the dark. Dark skin. Blank eyes. Mouth full of black blood and silent accusation. Then it was gone.

She didn’t remember falling. Screaming. Her hands sliding over the broken fragments of glass, the sting of the alcohol as she tore her palms open in her haste to scramble away. She didn’t even know where she was until she felt her back hit the solid wall of the corner, and even then all she could do was curl in on herself as she started to sob. Unable to breathe. To stop the shaking in her hands.

Not real. Not real. Not real.

[blckfckinmsk]

📐 + 6’7” for jon lmao

Roman is like 👀 hello ngl

[smilingmxsk]

"Do you always make this good of a first impression?" / roman !

"I'd like t' think dat I do.~" Margaret grins, twirling her bloodied bat before resting it on her shoulder.

She's rounded up some men, particularly ones Roman had ordered to be returned. A few flaky fellas who thought they could take secret plans and start trading them off for some other shmuck looking to get ahead of the game. But this fucker's time was just about to run out.

The men in question were heavily bruised and beaten, a few missing a number of their teeth, and their hands ziptied behind their backs.

"If y' want, I'll do th' fun persuadin' part while ya ask questions n' see who squeals about their boss first.~"

[archaievist]

🎲 for roman !

(this one could not be more perfect)

33. A kiss to a scar, birthmark, injury, or other marking

They had gotten to the point where he felt somewhat comfortable taking his mask off around her. Baby steps, but a huge sign of trust. As the redhead played with his hair, his head resting on her chest, she leans down and presses a soft kiss to the scar tissue on his face.

[spxnglr]

I just glanced at it and ??? Realized Jon would actually fit a lot of these, so I filled it out and. I’m not sure if big disregard for the law still counts, but he would get a bingo if it did LMAO

Other points: I would not call him a normal human but that depends on the definition here, he THINKS he’s helping others in a deluded way, and he would absolutely buy food for someone if he likes them ankdjd

❝ I'm glad we agree that you wouldn't be able to best me in a fight. You can be smart when you want to be. ❞

@threadpull

[twcfaces]

@threadpull from here

Tommy Elliot.

The boy who made it out.

People died trying to leave Gotham, for fuck's sake - turning to anything that would give them that little bit of cash to get an apartment somewhere else, somewhere away from the chemical waste that lowered the property value to nothing.

Cheap living brought extremely unfair consequences. It wasn't fair, it was never fair, and it wasn't fair that Tommy fucking Elliot got to sit here like this was some kind of mental health retreat. Two-Face would feel satisfied knocking him around a bit, but Harvey had to remind him that punching someone for their perceived wrongs wasn't going to help him in the long run.

Two-Face poked his cereal, separating the rice pieces from the wheat pieces onto opposite sides of the dish without putting much thought into it. The milk was watery.

"You never should have come back."

Harvey had wondered what it would be like if he left. Sometimes he thought he would give anything to do just that. Sometimes the thought of being anywhere repulsed him. What gave him the right to leave this place? He belonged here. He belonged here the way trash belonged in the dumpster.

He belonged here because it was a mess. He had wanted to heal a wound that existed before he did, and now he couldn't even heal himself.

Gotham couldn't heal him either. She tried.

"You made it out of Gotham. Not everyone who wants out gets out, but you did. It was easier for you than - most people, sure, but you had a whole fucking life going out there. All you had to do was not come back."

Sometimes he wondered if it was the water in this city that poisoned all of their lives this way, but that was beside the point.

"But you had to, because you had to - right? That's the cycle you're in. Whatever blood is in Gotham is in you, too."

It's unfortunate that she eats her children, isn't it?

Sense and nonsense. Two-Face doesn't make a great conversation partner.

[identitysolved]

@threadpull said: ❝ you mean more to me than you’ll ever know. ❞ / stephanie!

tim  felt  something  tighten  in  his  chest , keeping  his  gaze  strategically  away  from  stephanie.  he  wasn't  certain  if  he  was  supposed  to  hear  that  confession  from  the  other  or  not ,  but  either  way  his  stomach  twisted  and  his  chest  ached  as  he  fully  processed  them.  forcing  the  breath  caught  in  his  chest  out ,  tim  let  himself  be  centered  again  before  turning  toward  steph , that  cocky  and  overly  confident  smirk  that  was  his  most  comfortable  mask  falling  into  place  perfectly.

🙶 it's  you  and  me ,  girl  wonder 🙷  despite  the  mask ,  the  words  were  dripped  in  nothing  but  sincerity  as  he  finally  made  eye contract  with  stephanie.  🙶 no  matter  what.  nothing's  gonna  change  that.  🙷 

prompt ( accepting ) 

[alwaysxinxtrouble]

The Gotham City Courthouse was essentially a maze and when it came to the part of a blind man, obnoxiously annoying. He could have walked through the halls with ease to find his court room for the first day of jury selection within minutes. But instead, the red tipped cane swayed back and forth in front of him with gentle taps towards the elevator, waiting for the doors to close before he spoke to the man standing next to him.

It was an understatement to say the lawyer was exhausted. Spending into the early hours of the morning fighting Gotham’s villains, in particular, disrupting a large shipment coming into the docks in time before it could be hauled off and making sure it landed in the hands of the police. Beneath the red lensed sunglasses, black and blue molted beneath the skin along the bone while the gash above his brow was not as easily hidden. Just above the collar of his shirt on the back of his neck was a fresh cut barely two inches in length, the bloody edges around it suggesting it was very recently made.

“Hello Jonathan. Would you mind hitting the button for the third floor for me?” A small chuckle, nudging the sunglasses back up the bridge of his nose with a curled knuckle. “Sorry, it's your cologne. I recognized it when I stepped onto the elevator." He took a sip of his coffee. Caffeine was quickly becoming his life blood as of late, needing it more than he would like to admit.

"You do anything interesting last night?”

@threadpull

[riddlesnap]

What are Eddie’s love language type preferences? And how does he prefer to show affection as far as love language?

Alright people, buckle up because we're in for a ride. Edward is a troubled, troubled man so his love language type preferences aren't exactly the healthiest and that's without getting into how he shows affection. Love language preferences though, it's important to remember Ed's a narcissist through and through so words of affirmation are right up there. Tell him how great he is, that he's the best thing in your life, remind him what a brilliant mind he has, the whole shebang!

The more you compliment and praise Eddie, the more he likes it and ngl, Edward will eat that praise right up like a greedy kid running rampant in a sweet shop. He's been starved of that praise his whole life so getting a steady supply of it will stoke his ego to higher levels than ever before. It's all attention at the end of the day and if there's one thing Eddie loves, it's getting attention (be it positive or negative!) Eddie also likes acts of service but he's weirdly sceptic about it at the same time; he loves being doted on but he can quickly turn mean if he thinks you're pitying him or that he needs help. Keep it small, just little things like handing him the right tools or pieces for his traps, stuff he could very well do for himself but shows you're paying interest to his hobbies. Gift giving? He's sceptic about that too unless you give him stuff he actually likes and can use (otherwise expect it to get tossed into the bin right in front of your eyes, he can be a shithead like that asdfghjk) Quality time is pretty much the same as giving him attention. Doing stuff with Eddie usually means watching him work, being part of the background and interjecting from time to time. If Edward REALLY likes you, you might be taken along one one of his heists which... may or may not be a fun experience depending on your muse's view on crime. Physical touch, nope. Not unless he likes you a lot or trusts you so definitely don't start touching him right away or he'll probably brain you with his cane. NOW THAT'S OUT OF THE WAY, Let's talk about how Edward shows affection. I think it goes without saying that Eddie can be a real hypocrite and worse, inappropriate as fuck when it comes to showing his interest. This is a man who lovebombed a woman all because he saw her in a particular way, sending loads of flowers to her, chocolates, paying off her university debts, the usual stuff you do for somebody you met for all of two minutes. It didn't occur to him for a while to get to know her first and maybe not do the stereotypical romance stuff you'd expect from a hallmark movie. He really has so very little idea how to show affection in actual, healthy ways. He may do certain things for you because he likes them so naturally you would like that too, wouldn't you? Oh wait, you probably don't, because you're not him but as a narc, Ed struggles at times with the notion that you're not just some extension of himself. On the plus, he can be fiercely protective, because he sees you as his and anybody who thinks they can get their hands on you is liable to lose theirs in some kind of accident. Another thing Eddie's hypocritical as fuck about is, again, personal touch. He's VERY tetchy when it comes to strangers getting up in his personal space but if he decides he likes you, he has no respect for boundaries; he'll stand real close, too close, maybe rest a hand on your shoulder, position you in a way he likes. He's weird in the way he'd do more for others than he expects from them but in all honesty, just find yourself a healthier guy. It is SO not worth dealing with Edward's shit LMAO.

[clawsextended]

“man, now that is not something i hear every day. happy to see little ol’ me? gosh, aren’t you sweet?”

the cat’s grin widens. it hasn’t caught the crow yet, no, no bird in those fangs, no cawing creature stuffed in those jaws. it doesn’t matter at all, however, not even a fucking little. because she can basically feel that little freak’s face splitting open wide under her knuckles and that’s promise enough.

what’s better than that? now that’s a good fucking night.

“figured you could use a helping claw. word on the street is tall, dark, and traumatized got his ass out of arkham. again. and of course i have to make sure he keeps his freaky little ass out of your business. mostly. what can i say? i’m a girls’ girl.”

a wink accompanies the statement, well-timed and incredibly charming. just like that grin. she flips in casually, jittering shoulders in a little jostle as her heels ping. the figure she cuts isn’t near as tall as jonathan, but it’s not in height she relies, no. she’s all muscle.

(she’s a girls’ girl. the kind that will find any and every excuse to cause bodily harm to to a very shitty man. becky happening to be a (pretty) girl is just another plus to the situation. for once, everything’s coming up selina.)

“hey. uh. you went to school, obviously. can you.. uh.. explain to me the themes of obsession in moby dick….? my kid has to do a paper and i only have the patience for. like. every third word.”

her lips are ruby red around that sheepish smile. seriously, it’s boring her out of her mind.

“do they make you read moby dick in law school?”

she has no idea why she asks that question.

@threadpull

[fartemis-crock]

🎲 for Jon because I was being threatened and definitely not because I just really want an excuse to

🔪 🔪 🔪 the dice gods continue their blessings 30. A kiss to the palm of the hand @threadpull

it's disgusting, really. how quickly she'd grown attached to him. ---just how easily this had become a habit for her.

he always seemed annoyed with her. well;; jonathan always seemed annoyed. the other one, the one he was when he hid behind the mask gave some of it away. but--- it was typically jon who opened the door. it was the stubborn, sullen psychologist that she would placate with peace offerings of various fall flavored sweets. tonight candy-corn and vodka, had been offed in exchange for him sharing details of his research with her.

that was the main reason she couldn't stay away. the smell of his toxin is intoxicating. the base scent compound itself set her enhanced senses on fire. a detail she has yet to share with him, of course. artemis was relatively certain someone as guarded as he was would not appreciate her more feline traits. ---but fuck, even the smell of him was beginning to etch it's way into her brain. at some point;; he'd begun to worm his way into her mind.

maybe that's why she keeps touching everything. even now;; as she's planted herself on a counter adjacent to his work, she's begun to fiddle with a notebook. picking at a frayed edge of the spine. partially out of idle restlessness, and partially because she knew it would draw him to her. still rambling on and on about some dead psychologist, his hand reaches out to swat her away--- and artemis is quick to grab it.

impulse and an emotion she can't quite place overriding any sense. uncermoniously;; his hand is lifted to her mouth. her eyes focused, briefly, on the skin of his wrist as her lips brush deliberately against the skin of his palm. it's only for a fleeting moment. just a few seconds of contact, before she is pulling back with an expression that could only be described as adoration as she shifted her gaze up to his face. hand sliding gently-- slowly to grasp jonathan's wrist as she pushes herself to her feet.... if he wasn't so damned tall, she might have also brushed her lips against his.

"---can I see it?" is murmured, voice hoarse as her singlular brown eye finally gazed into his blue ones. "---the, uh, toxin--- being used, i mean."

[blckfckinmsk]

❛ ah, so you aren’t heartless after all. ❜ / jonathan!

· 𓂃 ࣪˖🔪 ˖ ࣪𓂂 . Nose scrunches in a bit of irritation at the remark. It almost makes him change his mind completely. But he straightens up to lean toward the other, "Don't make me regret it. Because I can rectify this decision."