“Look,” you tease, your voice soft and your hands framed around Law’s face. You stretch your thumb to smooth over his cheek bone. “I’ve got the whole world in my hands.”
You only get a moment to appreciate the widening of Law’s eyes before he schools his gaze back into something more passive. Early on in your relationship, you might of over looked it - the gentle squeeze of your fingers in his as he reaches up to pull your hands away from his face —now you’ve learned to appreciate all of Law’s little tells.
“You’re ridiculous,” he scolds you, just a smidge too soft to not be fond. He places a cool hand on the top of your head.
He’s still not quite used to this, you know — how gently you treat him, your honey sweet words, or how freely you give him your affections. You’re soft and warm (“Too soft for this life,” he’s told you before, his fingers tangled in your hair. “How the hell did you end up here?” he’s asked, lips a breath away from yours).
To a man who’s grown up in the harsh cold, you and your love burn a little — like sinking into a warm bath after coming in from the snow. There’s usually a moment of discomfort before Law melts.
It’s a delight to watch this man, infamous in all four seas for his coldness, his capacity for cruelty, settle into being loved, to adjust to warmth and comfort. It’s gradual, the changes you see in your captain, your lover, but you’ve taken to cataloguing each one in your mind.
Tonight, if his hand lingers a little too long on the top of your head or you notice the tips of his ears redden with extra blood flow, you opt not to call him out as you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and add it to your list.
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So, I’m like 90% sure my English Professor is a Jason Todd Variant.
First off, he’s an English professor, but you must be thinking, Dude, men being English professors isn’t really special
Well, he also has Red Hair, Blue eyes and is from New Jersey. (Okok, I believe in black hair white streak Jason Todd supremacy, but bear with me)
He’s kinda built, And sure, he’s a little on the short side… probably 5’8” but like… he didn’t have access to a Lazarus pit
But like, he uses fancy words in the same sentence as ‘fuck’ and if that is not the most Jason Todd thing to do, Idk what is.
Maybe I’ll ask him about his favorite book or something, but like… later in the semester.
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Tell it in one sentence! Escaping Twin Flames
Oh, look, if we're to believe this new release, here's a guy who thinks harmonious relationships mean constant mind-blowing sex even if one party says no (totally not controlling), who builds an entire online school, and further a religion on his claimed gift to find your perfect partner, the true you, and thus the solution to your whole life (totally not a cult), you only have to do as he says and blame yourself if you don't succeed (totally not a bully), and you have to work for him in his business model of preying on vulnerable women at the cost of overwriting their core identities, sorry, in finding new members for the community (totally not an MLM system); and look, here's an important documentary on said man and his wife!, full of tear-jerking, cliffhangers, and more Netflix trickery so that you can delve deeper and deeper into this narrative until you receive some form of catharsis (totally not docutainment).
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#43
It’s been three weeks since the hero saw their villain. None of the other heroes have arrested them, none of the superheroes have killed them—or at least not that they’re admitting. It’s been long enough to make the hero restless, and they figure they’ll have to be the one to find out where they’ve gone.
The hero isn’t proud of the fact they know where the villain lives. They found out by pure coincidence, honestly, and once they had the information it refused to leave their mind no matter how unprofessional they knew it was. They’ve never been here before—work stays at work, and they’re not coming all the way out here just for one villain—and today marks the first of them knocking on the door.
A hero announcing their arrival is clearly unexpected, since the villain answers the door looking mildly startled. The hero never imagined them to be so casual; their usual flowing coats and all-black, slender outfits are replaced with an oversized t-shirt and a pair of loose joggers.
“Oh my god,” is the opening the villain graces them with.
“Where the hell have you been?” the hero demands, and it’s only now that they’re saying it that they realise that it’s a little weird to ask. Why would they care?
“Why do you care?” the villain snaps like they read their nemesis’s mind. “It’s none of your business where I’ve been.”
“It is when my job is on the line because the city’s most prolific criminal is missing,” they retort shortly, and the villain scoffs.
“Well, you know I’m here now, so you’re welcome. Bye.” The villain starts to swing the door shut but the hero catches it, their foot caught between the door and the frame. They don’t want to admit how heavy the door is. They can feel the bruise forming already.
“Absolutely not.” The hero shoves themself through the doorway a little in an effort to stop the villain from their valiant attempts to shut them out. “Why’d you disappear for so long? What kind of evil scheme are you planning?”
“Just wanted some time off!” the villain cries with a surprising amount of dismay as the hero slips into their house. “I don’t know why you’re coming in, there’s nothing to see in here.”
The place is oddly domestic and well-kept. It seems that the villain is strangely… tidy. “And that makes me suspicious. There’s definitely something in here.” The hero beelines for the door across the hall from them and the villain tries desperately to stop them.
“God, I should’ve answered the door with my knife like I usually do.” The villain makes a last ditch effort to pull the hero away as they slowly push the door open. “I need my dignity intact, please don’t—”
The door creaks on its hinges, and the noise is met with small, heartfelt shrieks. It takes the hero a moment to realise the sound is coming from below them, and a glance down reveals several tiny, ferociously meowing kittens.
“Jesus Christ,” the villain mutters as the hero takes in the sight. One of the kittens is already attempting to climb their leg, sharp claws digging into their thigh.
“Is… is this where you’ve been?” the hero asks uncertainly. It feels like they’ve come to the wrong house—the place is so nice, and home to a flurry of kittens who’ve all decided to hop on the trend of climbing the hero like a tower. The only indicator that they did get it right is the fact the villain is here at all, looking particularly flustered as they try and pull some of the claws out of the hero’s suit.
“That’s none of your business,” the villain snaps coldly over the racket of kittens yowling for attention, “but maybe.”
“Why’s there so many of them?” The hero gasps like they just put the pieces together. “Wait, the cats are going to be part of whatever plan you’re putting together!”
“That’s the dumbest idea you’ve ever had. Glad you think so highly of me.” The villain dumps a kitten on the floor, which immediately starts its climb again. “But no. I’m a villain, not an immoral freak. The kittens are just fosters for a few weeks.”
A couple of the kittens have taken to trying to climb the villain now, and they just let it happen. “I can’t believe this. You put everything aside for cats?”
“Yeah, they need feeding every few hours.” One of the kittens has reached their shoulder in record-breaking time, snuggling into the crook of their neck. “Can’t exactly go and whoop your ass in that kind of time. I have to be here until I send them off again.”
The hero can only stare as the villain gives the cat on their shoulder a scratch under its chin, and it purrs so loud it sounds like TV static. “This one’s my favourite,” the villain continues idly. “He’s called Beanie, but I think Harbinger of the Apocalypse suits him better.”
The cat’s purr somehow gets louder as if he agrees, and the hero raises their eyebrows. “Okay, there is still villainy at play here. Naming an animal like that is cruel.”
“He likes it!” the villain defends, but there’s an uncharacteristic softness to their tone. “I might keep him anyway, so I’ll get to name him whatever I want.”
The hero hates this. The sight of the villain, dressed down, normally, with a tiny kitten perched on their shoulder and leaning into their fingers, it’s—Jesus, it’s making them soft. They can’t believe this is making them reconsider how they see the villain.
“It’s kind of unfair that you stay here while I do the dirty work in the city,” the hero points out, and the villain frowns slightly, finally tearing their gaze from the kitten. “I’ll go half and half on the care with you if you actually go back out and let the agency know you’re not planning to end the world.”
The villain squints at them suspiciously. “Is this an excuse to rummage through my house?”
“You have a pretty good security system.” The hero gestures to the kittens clamouring over them. “I just need you to save my job, please. I know you keep everything at your lair, anyway.”
The villain scowls as if this is somehow a bad thing, but after a moment they nod. “Alright. I’ll write down everything they need and when, and we’ll take it in turns. I need a break, anyway—they’re needy.”
The hero smiles, and the relief that they don’t have to worry about the agency’s paranoia anymore is overwhelming. The kittens might even provide some much needed stress relief. “Perfect.”
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