Want A Cupcake?

the idea of living in the same place, or jointly bringing up children, and performing many other tasks as a kind of unit that society would often mislabel as something done by two romantic partners in a union of some kind (i use that term to loosely define an exclusive relationship, not actual binding marriage, though this can include such). the idea of the QPR isn’t just “friends”, it’s very specifically “individuals in a platonic relationship that perform a number of the social aspects of a traditional romantic partnership”.

like, be real for a second. if someone described their relationship with someone to you and said “Yeah we own a house together, we have a kid that we adopted and take care of, we decided to get a dog last week and we file taxes as two members of the same household.”, you wouldn’t look at that person and assume that they arent romantic/sexual partners of some kind, because... well, traditionally, that’s shit that married people do. getting hit with the additional “Yup! And we’re not romantically or sexually involved at all! She has a boyfriend that she visits on the weekends and I’ve never had a romantic relationship in my life.” would throw you for a goddamn loop! What would you even call that relationship? and that’s where the term comes from: an attempt to define a very specific kind of relationship that certainly can and has existed, but isn’t commonly recognized or talked about!

"Ah yes, I wonder how they got there, it wouldn't have anything to do with the individual who's been stalking me for the better part of a month, would it."

"Jokes on you, not the first time a car I drove has been smashed to hell, besides, strictly speaking its not even my car."

Enjoy your present at home

"....I would ask how you broke into my house but at this point I am used to having my house broken into and I am uncertain if that is a sign that I need a vacation or not."

"...Wait a minute...." He paused as he glanced at the profile "You...I've seen that calling card all over the place...I don't know you but I know that calling card and I know what happens to the people who get it. What do you want."

I wrote this while listening to this playlist on YouTube. Also no one asked me to write this, but I did! its only a lil bit though.

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Wedged into the corner of the still train the small man struggled to keep from hyperventilating. The air was filled with the noxious gas. His mind was flooding with images, sounds, smells, clips of memories. The small man knew this feeling. Jon got out. 

In the distance there was a deep chuckling, and the steady clunk of boots, with each step they grew nearer until… silence. Kneeling down the tall man stared at Rith for a long moment before a large grin broke out on his face. “Well wouldn’t ya look at that…” the southern drawl dripped in a sadistic interest.

 “such a sweet little thing. scared outta your wits, but still tryin’ so hard to stay calm.” Reaching a gloved hand out, The Scarecrow brushed a lock of hair out of the brunette’s face. “Now Doll, lemme get a look at you,” icy blue eyes locked onto soft brown ones, the lopsided, long grin resting across the unstable man’s face as he spoke. “The toxin’s gotta be well and good in your system by now and you're still only breathin’ a little heavy. Ya’ sure are special aren’t ya’ Doll?” Reaching out with his other hand, Scarecrow picked up Rith. “you’re gonna be comin’ with me doll. We have so much to talk about.” 

The brunette lay frozen in the larger man’s arms, the gothamite knew better than to fight back. He wouldn’t win this fight. His best chance was to convince the Scarecrow, but how could he? Jon may not be able to feel fear, but he certainly did get high off of fear toxin, like everyone else. Clenching his fist, the small actor forced himself to focus on the present. Ignore the fear, focus on being kidnapped, and trying to stop it. He was in a subway tunnel. Getting carried off by the scarecrow. The hacker’s mind roamed, grabbing for anything, but as he lay, absorbed in his thoughts, he felt it get more difficult to think. He was drugged. Jon had an anesthetic. Scrunching his nose, the brunette looked up at his captor and with the last of his strength snarled to the rogue. “Bastard.”

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Eyes open the small man was met with a ceiling. CH-CHUNK. A normal bedroom ceiling. CH-CHUNK. Dread pooled in the brunette’s stomach. CH-CHUNK. As Rith sat, he noticed a weight on his neck. CH-CHUNK. Delicately touching the thing around his neck, right was able to identify it as a wide collar around his neck. CH-CHUNK. It sat close to the brunette’s neck, but he could stick a finger between the mostly leather material and his flesh. CH-CHUNK. Looking around, the brunette found the source of the noise. On the far side of the room sat Rith’s kidnapper, typing away. 

Dark hair spread across the tall man’s shoulders and back as he typed away. Rith kept quiet. He did not want to break Jon’s focus. Brown eyes scanned the room as he got his barings. If it were not for the sunlight pooling through the window curtains. The room would be woefully underlit, the only other light source being a singular, dim, lamp beside the Scarecrow.

As he took in the scene around him, the dread in his gut only intensified. He was in new clothes. Taking the dread and using it as fuel the brunette moved towards the window, examining it, opening to be able to escape from it.  “I wouldn't do that doll.” 

Rith jumped, spinning around with a fist. It was smacked away by the scientist towering over the brunette. “Now, now doll, no need to be hittin’.” A small smile fell upon his pale lips as he spoke. “Now, why dontcha tell me your name darlin?” Jon was imposing on a good day. It was not a good day. His sunken, sleepless eyes and near permanent smile, only helped to make the man personify looming. 

Jon’s usual patience wore thin as he waited for a response. He took a step closer to the smaller man, causing Rith to essentially be pinned against the windowsill. “Name, doll.”

“Rith.”

Chuckling, the dark man’s smile grew. “That’s a good boy,” grabbing the small man’s wrist, Jon dragged the brunette out of the room and through the house. Rith followed obediently, deciding it is better to play along. Soon they were in a decrepit kitchen, sitting at a table. “Now darlin’ let's set some ground rules, shall we?” the scientist did not wait for a response. “You ain't going anywhere without my say so Doll. that pretty little collar of yours makes sure of that.”

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thats all the brain power i have for scarecrow for now!

“Where you go, you leave half the world overturned behind you. You are more dangerous than Bonaparte in your own way, you and that beast of yours.”

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Shoutout to @cozy-fish-crow for reminding me of this amazing quote.