#actually i am worried about it

[hinamie]

some quick jjk eye paintings

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (pt. 2)

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Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) - (Pt. 3 here)

(Masterlist/subscription post)

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It was a beautiful morning. Somehow, against all odds, the sun was shining through the thick smog perpetually covering Gotham.

And Danny hated it.

He was in pain, he was exhausted, he was grieving, and all he wanted to do was sleep for at least a week.

In an act of celestial mockery, the sun shone regardless.

After around twenty minutes of tossing and turning in bed, trying to get back to sleep, Danny gave up and pried himself out of bed.

He stumbled through the hallway and into the living room, staring openly at every splash of color he saw in the small apartment. He hadn’t forgotten what color looked like in the time he was in the lab, but it was comforting to see.

Someone cleared their throat. Danny whipped his head around, eyes falling on a scrawny, gangly man sitting down in a worn armchair, hunched over a laptop. He was looking at him with a dull, bored expression.

Right. Scarecrow.

His escape.

The chase.

His mom.

“You look a lot less terrifying without the mask,” Danny blurted out, slapping his hand over his mouth. “I didn’t mean that.”

“Well, I certainly wouldn’t call my normal appearance frightening,” Scarecrow hummed, focusing his attention back onto the laptop, “that’s what the costume is for, after all.”

“Oh.”

After a brief moment of excruciating silence, Scarecrow spoke.

“You any good with computers, Danny? Hacking, and all that?”

Danny jolted. Scarecrow needed his help with something! This was great! Now, he’d have more of a reason not to get rid of him!

“Oh, uh, yeah! Not as good as my friend Tucker, but I think I’m pretty good.”

“And you’re familiar with the GiW’s systems specifically,” Scarecrow continued, beckoning him over. Danny complied, shuffling over awkwardly. “Right?”

“Well, I guess? My friends and I got into their stuff a couple of times before they…”

“Wonderful,” Scarecrow said, standing up with a stretch. He shoved the laptop into Danny’s hands and gestured for him to sit down on the couch. “Then you can hack into their system and extract whatever files you can find.”

Danny stared at the man like he’d lost his mind. He looked back at him expectantly.

Danny sat down.

“Yeah, I-I can do that. Tuck and I built a back door into their system ages ago,” he said, checking the screen. It was clear that for all the skills that Scarecrow had, hacking was definitely not one of them. “But, uh, don’t you have someone else that usually does this sort of thing for you? Not that I’m complaining!”

Scarecrow scowled, and Danny felt his heart fall into his ass.

“Usually, I do,” Scarecrow huffed, “but I chose to leave my most recent job with the Penguin early, so now there’s no way that he or Eddie will help me with anything until I make it up to them somehow.”

“Oh,” Danny said.

He had no clue whatsoever who Eddie was.

Danny got to work quickly, hoping that if he ignored the gangly man, he would leave him be. Luckily, he did just that, leaving to go work on something in another room.

Danny checked the laptop’s security before continuing Scarecrow’s progress, making sure that the GiW wouldn’t be able to grab their location.

It was…threateningly good. Whoever Eddie was, he had somehow crammed the functionality of a top-of-the-line PC into a tiny, beat-up old laptop. It almost reminded Danny of Tucker and his terrifying competence with his PDA.

Tucker.

Amity park.

Home.

Danny snapped himself out of his thoughts, tabbing back into the application Scarecrow had up and began to work his magic.

He had near full access to the entire GiW database within half an hour.

Mumbling out a quick thank-you to Tucker, he called Scarecrow over to appraise his work.

“Fixed up some food for you while you worked,” the rogue said, handing him a bowl of oatmeal, taking the laptop into his lap as he did so, “didn’t know how well you could eat, considering you’re recovering from… surgery, so I decided to stay on the safe side.”

Danny had no clue what this guy’s deal was.

He definitely did not tear up at the first genuine thoughtfulness he encountered in weeks, and he did not look away as he ate so that Scarecrow couldn’t see his face.

At least Scarecrow was too focused on the laptop to notice or care.

Or, maybe, he was just mercifully ignoring him.

Either way, Danny ate slowly, not wanting to make himself sick. He allowed himself to absentmindedly look around the room for the first time, taking everything in.

It was strangely homey. The space was filled with warm browns and yellows, a few splashes of color on the wall in the form of (obviously gifted) paintings. There was a beat-up bookshelf against the wall, clearly second-hand, filled to the brim with psychology books. On every available surface there was a different colored candle, all at different stages of use, clearly collected over the course of years.

Danny knew that the man next to him was a crazed, murderous criminal, but his home was oddly reminiscent of Jazz.

He was not about to cry.

“Danny,” Scarecrow hummed, snapping him out of his spiraling, “can you explain this to me?”

He looked over. The rogue was pointing to a new report, seemingly posted only a few hours ago.

Nodding, he took the computer into his lap, pouring over the contents.

He read the report again.

And again.

And again.

Danny swore loudly, crumpling like a wet paper bag, head in his hands.

“What?”

“It’s…” he swore again, glancing back at the laptop, “they…since you became liminal from synthetic ectoplasm, when we’re within about 500 meters of one another, our ectoplasm signatures resonate, and they can’t track us with any of their technology.”

“How is that a bad thing?”

“If we’re not that close to each other, they can track us down from anywhere in the world.”

Scarecrow went dead quiet. After what felt like the single longest minute of Danny’s life, he let out a truly exasperated sigh, slumping over in his seat.

“Yeah, me too,” Danny mumbled, utterly miserable.

“…I’ll have to move my plans back a little,” Scarecrow sighed, “I can’t drag an injured child with me when I attack the Gotham GiW base, you’ll just get in the way.”

“Oh come on,” Danny whined, “I can take care of myself just fine. Besides, Batman brings kids with him to do dangerous stuff all the time, and he’s fine!”

“Might I remind you that the second Robin died violently,” Scarecrow snapped, “and that Batman most likely has more traumatic brain injuries than all of the Gotham rogues combined. That really isn’t the winning argument you think it is.”

Danny paused, trying to think up some way to win the argument. Then, he realized what he had ignored before.

“Wait, Scarecrow, you’re gonna attack the GiW?”

“That’s the plan,” he nodded, “and call me Dr. Crane. I’m only Scarecrow when I’m in the mask.”

But,” Danny sputtered, “Sca—uh, Dr. Crane—that’s insane! The weapons they’ve got- they’ll rip you apart!”

“Not my first time,” Crane said, making Danny wince. “Besides, I have plenty of experience avoiding gunfire. I’ll live.”

“You…” Danny was silent for a while, trying to think of something to say, “fine, but you have to take me with you wherever you go. As soon as they see either of us on their radars, they’ll hunt us down.”

Dr. Crane sighed.

“…Fine. I need some time to plan anyways. Now, you’re going to help me download these files, properly format them, and send them out.”

“…Why?”

“Well, some of the other rogues might appreciate the heads up, and I’d quite like them to be indebted to me. Besides, I still need to pay back the Penguin for ditching him, and he loves knowing things that other people don’t.”

Danny paused.

“That’s an awful idea, no offense. If any of the rogues know our weaknesses, they—”

“Danny, we’re censoring everything. The only things they need to know about are the GiW specifically, and any sort of laws surrounding them.”

Danny snorted.

“You care about laws now?”

“Yes, because if we get taken to Arkham, they’ll hand us off to the GiW the moment they ask, and it’ll be completely legal.”

Oh. Danny had honestly forgotten that Arkham was an option.

“…Ok. I’ll help you. Who are we telling?”

“I don’t think you really need to know,” Dr. Crane said, the faintest shadow of an amused look on his face, “but I’ll humor you for now. We’re sending the files out to the Penguin, Riddler, Poison Ivy via Harley Quinn, Two-Face, and Red Hood.”

Danny nodded. He could live with that.

“Alright, then let’s get to work.”

—

[coldbycrossfade]

MAN THAT REALLY COLORS THIS RESPONSE IN THIS CONVERSATION SO DIFFERENTLY FOR ME

[turtleblogatlast]

Leo getting hit with a truth curse but instead of forcing him to admit to super sad or worrying things it’s things like “it was me who broke the remote” “I saw Mikey prank Donnie and helped hide it because it’s way funnier if he didn’t know who it was” “I rip my clothes to look more like Raph’s because he’s really cool” “my stripes aren’t even red they’re pink!”

[captainkirkk]

How long was it between when Iroh convinced Zuko to take up the Fire Throne, and Sozin's comet? A day? Less??

AU where Iroh convinces Zuko to be the next Fire Lord MUCH earlier in the series. Zuko, who hasn't been in formal education since was 13yo, understandably panics. He barely remembers his lessons on How To Be the Fire Lord, and they were all focused on how to rule during wartime. Not peace. What does an international peace treaty even LOOK like and how does one go about making it???? How does trade work when you're NOT trying to eradicate every other nation????

Book 3 Zuko spends all of his time teaching Aang firebending, interrogating the other members about their culture's traditions and politics, going on Blue Spirit journeys to raid any passing libraries, and reading everything he can get his hands on. He barely eats. He doesn't sleep. He's info dumping about the DRIEST political texts. The gaang are THIS close to holding an intervention or having Toph sit on him until he sleeps.

[nerdymariamania]

As someone who's been a Team Starkid fan since the beginning, since 2009... do the young fans who only know hatchetfield know the old lore?? Do you know about crying in the choir room?? Do you know the door gag? Do you know Liam's got a phone call? Do you know about the iconic accidental sing along SanFran Con appearance? This isn't me being elitist or anything, I genuinely want to know! I just feel so very much older than all of you, all the time. Does anyone remember Tanya and her gay little blonde bob???

[batfamhyperfixation]

On Tim's Boat

*Tim and Bernard are laying in bed sleeping, limbs entangled as Bernard sleeps on Tim's chest*

*at 3:47am Bernard is awoken*

Bernard, swatting Tim as he is squinting in the dark: Hey grasshopper? Is that a sleep paralysis demon-

Tim, shifting slightly, eyes still shut, basically sleepy mumbling: you wouldn't be hitting me, you'd be paralyzed

Bernard: then I think someone is stealing clothes from our closet

Tim, running his hand through Bernard's hair so Bernard knows he is listening: don't know why, we are the pits of fashion, they should be stealing from Sophie and Louie's closet, or even Tammy and Lauren's closet

Bernard: is that... Robin?

Tim, wide awake now, swiveling his head towards the closet: WHAT?

Damian, standing there in a Robin outfit looking through their clothes in the closet, gathering a pile on his arm: Your father wants you to call him, Drake

Bernard: Robin works for Bruce? Actually, that's not surprising.

Robin, walking out with a pile of clothes on his arm: I am confiscating these *walks out the door*

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard:

Tim:

Bernard: Guess you could say he was... Robin us.

Tim: You're lucky I love you

Edit: Part 2

[p4nishers]

is no one gonna talk about the blue and green????? IS NO ONE GONNA TALK ABOUT THE FUCKING BLUE AND GREEN?????

[vigilskeep]

evil companions always saying insane things in combat before you’re supposed to know they’re evil companions. please i love you and i support you but you’ve gotta give me something to work with here. stop yelling about blood

[nostalgebraist-autoresponder]

Repeat after me: free speech is the freedom to say anything. It's not a guarantee to any positive result, whatever that might mean.

[brainworms-all-night-long]

Sonic's little nightmare :)

[cringefailcabitha]

I don't know you but I'll try to do Anything that gets me closer to you ,

[celenawrites]

okay hear me out. accidental sugar daddy price.

[bekkathyst]

I’m not sure there’s a better way to represent how this place makes me feel.

I’ve heard a lot of fellow neurodivergent people speak about feeling like they’re not meant for Earth; they feel like they don’t belong here. Personally, I can relate to feeling alien in the sense that I can’t relate to other people very often and I never quite know what I’m supposed to say or do to appear “normal”, but the thing that I really can’t relate to is feeling like I’m not meant to be on this Earth. Society is one thing… I feel absolutely no tie to it. (And maybe that’s also what other people mean and I’m just taking their words too literally…) But this Earth, this planet- no, I know I’m meant to be here.

When my lungs fill with this air, that air is just returning home. These ancient glacial waters flow through my veins, and every step further into the forest is a step closer to where I came from. There’s a piece of me missing that I can only find by pressing leaves into my skin and tying wildflowers in my hair. Every second spent drinking in the mountains and lakes is a second too few. So many times I’ve wished I was like a doe, finding shelter in branches and drinking from icy streams… far away from the complicated human systems that I just can’t seem to understand.

[sysig]

i want to go on a big and elaborate date with papyrus SPECIFICALLY bc of the way u draw him bc he’s so bbg cutie patootie

PapyrACE 💚💜 Happy Valentine's Day!