#<--- me when i am lying

[pyrusinc]

Four Maligned Mice

A couple of mindfucky minimice. They all clearly suffer from something... Polymouse: Paranoia Multimouse: Indulgence Bossmouse: Inhibition Pocket Mouse: Compulsion ...but will call you a liar if you point it out. Pocketmouse is from @wisteriasymphony's catalogue and Bossmouse and this Multimouse are both from my Packrats au. Why is Ladybug distinct from Marinette? No reason, I promise :)

[beebfreeb]

Against my will, this freak is fun to draw.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Laios's three Boy Best Friends. And yes, they hate him.

[the-meme-monarch]

i love the interpretations of Any of the pines being trans but to me mabel and dipper Are fraternal twins they are just also both trans. they just swapped names and ‘pretended’ to be the other. i know dipper being transmasc is like the most popular trans hc in the fandom, so to me this is why dipper’s name is mason but he always wanted the name tyrone

[greenglowinspooks]

(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

—

Tw: descriptions of body horror, Dr. Crane has PTSD and Does Not Realize, Crane has an actual panic attack and just doesn’t care, the Riddler makes one (1) sex joke about Batman

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

(Pt. 1 here) (Prev here) - (Pt. 5 here)

(Masterlist here)

—

Dr. Jonathan Crane is in his lab, the acrid scent of chemicals filling the air, and his hands are shaking.

Danny’s health, for the first week that he had him, had been steadily improving at an extremely quick rate. However, his healing had begun to stagnate. Danny said that it was because his body had run out of ectoplasm, and that while there was a lot of ambient ectoplasm in Gotham, he needed a stronger type in order to heal.

And so, that led Dr. Crane here.

He had stolen the research notes from the Penguin years ago regarding his experimentation on him.

(He quite vividly remembers the sound of bone creaking and groaning as it twisted, lengthened. The squelching of shifting tendons and muscles, the strange fabric-like tightening of skin. The feeling of going from man to monster, of losing all claim to his humanity.)

Danny had called him Liminal, part ghost. He had said that he was transformed by, among other things, a kind of synthetic ectoplasm.

Danny needed ectoplasm.

Crane had the research notes. He had every ingredient necessary. And yet, attempt after attempt failed.

The chemical smell burns his nose. His hands tremble.

Dr. Crane is not afraid.

He doesn’t feel fear anymore. He’s tried to, many, many times, but nothing has worked. And yet, his hands are shaking still.

(The horrifying sensation of vertebrae pop-pop-popping along his spine, growing and lengthening. The unbearable itching beneath his skin as toxin glands begin to form. The feeling of his teeth sharpening and elongating, of his skull growing, of his vision changing and brightening. The awful stench of chemicals. The awful stench of ectoplasm.)

Jonathan takes careful note of his shaking hands, his blurring vision, his accelerated heart-rate and shallow breathing.

(Human hands. Human vision. Human heart and lungs and organs.)

He takes note of them, but he does not let that distract him from the task at hand. Danny is not a chemist, but Jonathan is.

The boy knows enough about chemistry in theory, but he won’t go anywhere near Crane’s equipment. He seems to have some sort of intense fear of laboratory settings, probably developed during his stay with the GiW, and Crane is willing to respect that, if only because he cannot afford to lose him.

As such, Crane is the only one qualified to do this. And, unfortunately, if he isn’t successful the boy may very well die.

He heats the chemicals to precisely the right temperatures, adding each one to its correct container.

Dr. Crane thinks of the Scarebeast, that creature born of cruelty and greed and a sense of superiority. That creature which he tries to ignore is a part of him, that can never be removed. A damage which cannot be undone.

He pours the contents of a small beaker into a larger flask, watching the liquids swirl together. The stench in the air is becoming closer and closer to the one burned into his memory.

Crane’s whole body is wracked with unpleasant sensations. It’s truly unfortunate, he thinks, that despite his mind’s lack of fear, his body still reacts so harshly.

Jonathan’s eyes wander, eventually settling on a purple and green card sitting innocently on the corner of the table.

Right.

Even if they wiped out the GiW tomorrow, and even if Danny could survive without ectoplasm, he would still be in danger.

Crane has to get him back to good health. It’s the only way he can be sure that the boy can defend himself properly.

The solution in the flask begins to foam, and Jonathan does not hesitate as he adds the final ingredient. He pours the mixture into a new container, capping it and placing it into a freezer set to -40 degrees.

Hopefully this time he got the timing right.

Jonathan tries to relax, the ventilation in the room slowly but surely clearing the familiar smell from the air.

He thinks of the letter.

Surely, he thinks, that man can come up with some better material for his jokes. Or, at least something new.

Same old threats, same old attempted poisoning.

Aiming his threats at Danny, though, that was new. New and utterly unacceptable.

Scarecrow did what he had to.

He doubted that his solution would last forever, of course, as with that man it never did. As such, he would prepare both himself and Danny for the inevitable moment that his choices came back to bite them.

However, for the moment, they were safe. Danny could rest and recover, and Jonathan could figure out a plan to minimize possible damages.

Jonathan is no longer shaking.

He’s exhausted. This is his fifth attempt today, and each one leaves an unfortunate strain on his mind and body.

With a sigh, he settles himself into his seat at a nearby desk, opening up his computer and logging his most recent attempt. He still has to wait for it to chill to know if it was successful, but he can always update the logs later.

Once he’s done, he stretches, joints popping loudly as he walks to the freezer.

When he sees the results of his tireless work, the ghost of a smile flits across his face.

Success.

Jonathan picks up the jug of ectoplasm and leaves the lab, which is in all actuality the basement of the new apartment that he moved himself and Danny into after receiving the note. The scrappy old woman who was his landlord had told him that as long as he paid her five hundred dollars up front, she would let him set up in the basement without any questions or cop calls.

And so, the most expensive apartment in the Narrows was his.

At least, he thought, the distance between the basement and the apartment was short enough that Danny didn’t have to sit in while he was doing his labwork.

Jonathan knew that he didn’t exactly have a strong grasp on the concept of ‘lab safety,’ proven by his built-up immunity to almost every toxic chemical he’d ever encountered, and he doubted that Danny should be around such an environment.

He was back to the apartment quickly, not bothering to hide the self-satisfied smile on his face. Danny is sitting in his armchair, trying to read one of his books. Danny looks up, ready to greet him, when he sees the jug in his hands and pauses.

“Is that..?”

“Synthetic ectoplasm,” Jonathan says proudly, “I found the Penguin’s research notes and decided to recreate it, since you said that you needed it to heal properly. I’m not sure if it’ll work the same as what you usually have, but I hope it’s helpful all the same.”

Danny is standing, now, and looking at Jonathan with a strange look in his eyes. He looks, Jon thinks, like he’s about to cry.

Then Danny is rushing forward and wrapping his arms around Jonathan, his scrawny form shaking.

Jonathan is, for a moment, horrified. Did he do something wrong somehow? Why is this child, who’s so afraid of touch, hugging him?

And then he hears Danny’s voice, and he knows that it was all worth it.

“Thank you,” he’s mumbling, over and over, “thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you so much.”

“Of course,” Jonathan says softly, because what else can he say?

The boy cries in his arms for a while, and Jonathan briefly wonders what his life must have been like before, if a person like him can be seen as a comforting figure.

Then, Danny pours himself a small glass of the synthetic ectoplasm, putting the rest into the small fridge which had come with the apartment, and he settles back down, sitting in the armchair once again.

Jonathan sits opposite of him, and they chat with one another as Danny drinks.

Danny talks to him about the stars and tells him about different spaceships, and Jonathan makes sure to pay attention and ask the boy questions.

He doesn’t miss the way that Danny lights up every time he asks him something about his interests. He’s so passionate, so smart, a trait that he seldom sees outside of his fellow rogues, and Jonathan wants to encourage that.

It’s…nice. Peaceful, almost.

And then the front door flies open, because Jonathan isn’t allowed to have nice things.

“Jon,” a familiar voice rings out, “what the hell?!”

Danny is frozen in place, clearly terrified.

Jonathan heaves a sigh, turning to face the nuisance who’s entered his apartment.

“Eddie,” he drawls, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

Edward’s face is red with anger as he invades Jonathan’s apartment.

“Oh, I don’t know! Maybe it’s the fact that you sent a bunch of rogues a cryptic message and then dropped off the face of the earth for two weeks! I was worried, Jon!”

Jonathan hums in acknowledgement.

“I didn’t think it was that cryptic,” he says, picking up a book in order to pointedly ignore the Riddler.

“Oh, of course you didn’t, you straw-stuffed hickory dickory dickhead. I swear, you’re always—” he pauses, finally having noticed Danny sitting opposite of Jonathan, “—who is this?”

“My apprentice,” Jonathan replies, dreading the upcoming headache he was no doubt going to develop from Edward’s company, “he’s helping me hunt down the GiW. His name is Danny.”

Edward gasps dramatically.

“You—an apprentice?! And you’re letting him sit in the old man chair?! You don’t even let me sit in the old man chair,” he wails, draping himself over the headrest of the couch with a flourish, “Jonathan, I thought I knew you!”

“Edward,” Jonathan says, “get out of my apartment.”

“Oh my goodness, this is incredible. You’re becoming the bat!”

“I am not becoming the bat, Eddie, now get out.”

Edward has a shit-eating grin on his face as he waltzes over to Danny. Danny, who seemed terrified when he first appeared, is now looking at him with obvious amusement written all over his face.

“I mean, look at him! The hair, the eyes, the scrappy build. If you put him in one of those traffic light vigilante costumes, he could easily pass as a Robin!”

“I’m not doing this with you today, Eddie.”

“Riddle me this, Jon: I am a treasure hidden inside of a chest. You can break me, or steal me, or give me a rest. I can flutter, or pound, or attack, or drop, but if you don’t have me, you’re certainly fucked. What am I?”

Jonathan pauses for a moment before he groans, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eddie.”

Danny sits still, a confused look on his face as he repeats the riddle silently. Then, his face lights up in delight.

“A heart!”

“Jon, I like this one,” Edward says with a smile, ruffling Danny’s hair, “you are correct! A heart, something that I wasn’t aware that our dear Jonathan had!”

“Eddie, stop.”

“No, no,” Edward says, “I was worried about you, you deserve this. I mean, you even missed girls night! You never miss girls night!”

“Girls night?” Danny asks, absolutely delighted.

“Oh, of course,” Edward says, sprawling over on the couch, dangerously close to just laying in Jonathan’s lap, “we have it once a week. I’m invited because of Selina and Jon’s invited because Harley likes him.”

“And what does girls night entail, exactly?”

“Eddie,” Jonathan groans, “please.”

“Well,” Edward hums, “we usually paint our nails, or watch a movie, or gossip about the other rogues, and occasionally, we tell each other about any ‘encounters’ we have with Batman,” he says, raising his eyebrows up and down.

Danny’s jaw drops.

“Edward, shut up,” Jonathan says, an irritated tone in his voice that wasn’t there before.

“No way,” Danny says, “I thought that Batman, like, hated you guys or something. You mean he actually..?”

“Oh, the Bat is much like a bottle of liquor or a cheap cigarette, in that he was made to be passed around.”

Danny chokes on air.

“Edward Nygma,” Jonathan hisses, getting out of his seat and looming over the man, “get the hell out.”

Edward pales.

“Leaving, leaving!” Edward says, dashing away from Jonathan. He pauses, turning to flash Danny a quick smile.

“Remember Danny, I’m your favorite uncle! Not any of the other rogues, me!”

With that, he leaves, the room falling completely silent.

And, as per usual, that silence does not last.

“You full-named him?” Danny asks gleefully, “and it worked?”

Jonathan just sighs, sitting down on the couch and rubbing at his temples.

“Please, don’t take anything Eddie says seriously. He’s a moron.”

“Dr. Crane, please let me come to girls night with you,” Danny pleads, his eyes sparkling, “I promise I won’t embarrass you.”

Jonathan groans.

“Of course you won’t, Eddie will do it for you.”

“Come on, please?”

“I think we’re a bit busy with the GiW at the moment,” Jonathan snaps. He pauses as he notices the crestfallen expression on Danny’s face.

This boy is going to be the death of him.

“Perhaps, though, when all that is taken care of…”

Danny cheers, grinning wildly, and Jonathan is not at all relieved to see him happy again. Certainly not.

The rest of the day is relatively normal.

Danny works on trying to get information from the GiW database while Crane refines his his fear toxin, both preparing for a raid on the GiW base they located in Gotham.

It was only a temporary base, nothing of note, but there was a chance of discovering more bases through it, and that wasn’t something either of them were willing to give up.

Still, something like this would take time. Rushing would only lead to failure.

…

Late in the night, long after Danny is fast asleep in his room, Jonathan pauses.

The GiW are not the only threat out there. They aren’t the only threat to him or to Danny. Perhaps it could be helpful to reach out to someone with greater resources than himself.

He sends a quick message to Red Hood.

Hopefully, he thinks, everything will go smoothly.

—

[theoldkyokodied]

Uploading all my Tomgreg art at once from the past few week before season 4 hits, who knows in what kind of mental state i'm gonna be once it does :')

[fruit-of-the-kaisarion]

fun fact, copia has freckles. i find this so important.

[opera-ghost]

it's immensely funny to me how andrew lloyd webber read this passage from the book and was like yeah the journey down to the phantom's lair is this really breathtaking magical gondola ride where christine is just captivated by the strange and fantastical beauty of it all (see below)

when in the novel they're both like in a rowboat in the dark with christine scared out of her mind and confused as hell while erik is paddling like he's out for an extreme day of fishing and just staring christine down for the entire duration of the journey without blinking once . like mind you his eyes quite literally GLOW in the DARK and he's just fucking staring into her soul and silently rowing and probably not even breathing like

[peacockrulz]

N tries to tell another joke (gone wrong)

Sequel to This

[flying-cat]

people who undermine the importance of izuku and katsuki's relationship throughout bnha because of "annoying shippers" or because they just don't like katsuki are insane because their relationship is literally so? important??? to the entire story???? katsuki is the deuteragonist of bnha. he was one of the first characters to show up. he was the first other person to know about OFA. so much of the manga is spent showing his development. if you deny his character development and relationship development ("relationship" does not always mean romantic relationship) with izuku, you are quite literally denying a massive part of the series. the manga starts with them and ends with them. you're allowed to dislike him but if you dislike him so much that you, in turn, start hating how izuku is a "punching bag" or a "doormat" for the entire series because he doesn't stay angry and vengeful at people even though a massive part of his character is that he's compassionate and kind even to people who aren't to him or used to not be, and you seriously think that that makes him weak, and you just start to dislike the main two characters of the series, i think you should. idk. stop reading, probably. read the revenge fantasy shit that you obviously want to read. there are like seven million manhwa available to you where the character gets the revenge you so desperately want to see.

[etoiile]

cute lil friends to lovers confession scene with akaashi <33

akaashi keiji was very used to you coming to him for advice and comfort.

you're having friendship trouble? you two are meeting for coffee. academic stress? you two are going for a walk. just a bad day? you two are watching whatever cheesy romance movies you'd like alongside your favorite snacks. (he always has them stocked in his apartment.)

you always referred to keiji as your "unpaid therapist," because he really was there to guide you and comfort you throughout all of the twists and turns of your life. whenever you accomplished a major milestone, keiji was there. whenever you needed to just talk about and process your feelings, keiji was there. even at your lowest, darkest points, keiji was there. he was always there.

he just had this natural talent for knowing exactly what to say and do. he had this process of welcoming your crying body into his home kindly, (or showing up at your place when he knew you were probably on the verge of a meltdown) making you something warm to drink, sitting you down on something comfortable, letting you cry out all of your worries and anxiety, and then giving you the kindest words of comfort and the most perfect advice for every situation. it was seriously magical, the way he always seemed to just abracadabra and suddenly, your life seemed a bit brighter.

he always knew exactly what to say and how to help you. it just came to him organically.

this time, however...

"i want to confess to this guy i like but i dont know how."

keiji stared at you in mild shock. he was certainly not expecting this. he thought that maybe you were feeling a bit overwhelmed and wanted to cry your eyes out to the notebook for the twentieth time to make yourself feel better, that maybe that one friend who always mistreats you made another snarky comment, that maybe you had a paper due in two days and you hadn't even started, but a boy? that you like? that you actually want to make a move on? this was not in his predictions.

admittedly, keiji had grown to like you a bit more than he had expected. there was just something about you that was so special and beautiful to him. maybe it was the way your eyes shone like diamonds whenever something mildly positive happened, maybe it was the way you somehow managed to cry at the same scene in the same movie despite having watched it multiple times, maybe it was the way that despite everything you would go through, you'd always try to keep your head up, but regardless of the reason, he had grown more than fond of you. if you weren't so dense, you'd see the way he looked at you, as if you were one of the seven wonders of the world, or the way he talked to you, in the most gentle, heartfelt tone that was never used on anyone else, or even the way he helped you with anything and everything, setting aside whatever he was doing to be with you when you needed him.

so, you can imagine the way his heart sank when he learnt of your affection for some other man.

"are you guys ... close?" he asked, silently hoping you'd say no, in which case he might be able to encourage you to wait it out a bit until you were sure.

"mhm!"

oh.

"we hangout a lot. he's always there for me when i need him!"

more than him? he thought that the two of you hungout pretty frequently, and he thought that he was your "therapist" who was there whenever you needed him. who the hell was this other rando? he knew most of your friends. you had tons of mutuals and he knew about the ones he didn't personally know through your constant chatter. how come this other guy had never before come up? who was he? he felt like he was going insane.

"and ... you're sure you really like him? how come?"

at his question, your eyes shone in the way that he loved, and he could see the glee radiating from you. it made him kind of sad to see that it was because of another guy.

"well, for one, he's super hot. like, he could be a model. he has the prettiest face ive ever seen and he has the most beautiful piano hands. not to mention, he's toned as fuck."

hotter than him? he knew he was no brad pitt, but he knew he wasn't entirely unattractive. was he not good-looking enough for you?

"for two, he's super smart. like, he's in an amazing major at an amazing university and he gets top grades every time. he's diligent and works hard! it's so admirable, and he inspires me to do the same."

he felt a pang in his heart knowing that despite the fact that he, too, works hard at school, it was a reason for you to go for the other guy.

"y/n, these reasons are a little surface-level. lots of people are good-looking good students. these might not be the right reasons for you to confess your feelings. it might just be a simple, fleeting crush."

despite wanting to be supportive of you no matter what, he couldn't handle the fact that you might be the girlfriend of some other guy. he felt a little bad, but he tried to nudge you into not confessing as subtly as possible.

"but that's not all. above all, he is so kind and he has such a good heart. i've genuinely never met another person as sweet as him. he's been there through my highs and lows, and he's just so pure and good. i care about him so much, and i can tell that he cares about me too. when im with him, i feel like i can be the best version of myself. he pushes me everyday and i'm so grateful to have someone like that in my life. i seriously wonder if he's like, a gift that the gods gave me when they saw how badly i was failing at life or something. i dont know what i would ever do without him."

oh.

you were serious.

you really liked this guy.

what did this other guy have that he didn't, though? he liked to believe he was decent looking! (hes gorgeous and majestic and i love him) he was a hardworking student! he always tried to be kind and caring towards others! why did it have to be this other guy? why couldn't it be him?

as much as he wanted to, he knew he couldn't try to stop you from confessing if you really felt the way you did about that guy. it just wouldn't be right. he couldn't let his own feelings get in the way of your happiness. before he gave you the advice and validation you were seeking, he decided to ask one last question as a confirmation.

"do you think he likes you back?" he questioned.

you pondered the question for a moment. "maybe. i think so? i hope so. i've kind of been trying to gauge his reaction lately, and i think he might like me back? he always tries to hide how he feels, and he has a pretty stoic face, but i can kinda tell what he's thinking because of all the time we've spent together." you replied.

he felt a twinge in his heart but put on a gentle smile regardless.

"he sounds great. if you're really sure of your feelings, go ahead and confess. i think it would be best if you got him alone, maybe in a familiar safe space, and told him straight up. i know that that's what i would like, at least." he advised. throughout it all, he sustained that same gentle smile and voice, despite his extreme inner turmoil. he spoke to you as if you were the most precious thing on earth, because to him, you really were.

"ooo sounds good! so, how do you think i should start it? like, just a 'hey, i like you?' or like, 'you're so special to me and yadayadaya?' what do you think, keiji?" you prompted.

knowing that he was planning how his crush was going to confess to hers felt a little pathetic. regardless, he mulled it over for a bit before replying with, "perhaps you could tell him that you have big news to share as you're sitting down. then, honestly, you could get straight to the point. just tell him about how you feel. however, it all sort of depends on the guy, and how you think he'd respond to different starters, of course."

you grinned. "okay! keiji, stand up for a sec?"

confused, keiji gave you a look, but stood up regardless.

you giggled at the way he looked at you. "so, keiji, lets sit down. i sort of have big news to tell you."

his heart raced. was what he thought might be happening actually happening? there was no way. he didn't know what to think. his mind raced with a million possibilities, ranging from you pulling a little prank on him to you telling him you were deathly ill, but the main one loomed large.

he gulped. "hm...?"

dont get your hopes up. dont get your hopes up. dont get your hopes up. he thought to himself. he was terrified at the thought of having false hope embarrassing himself.

"listen. we've known each other for awhile now, you know? and in that time, i've gotten to know you as this awesome guy who's perfect in every way. i love you to the moon and back; always have and always will, but now, that love is not the same kind as it used to be when we first became friends." you expresssed cautiously.

akaashi was sure he was about to have cardiac arrest from how fast his heart was beating. his palms were sweating and his eyes were wide. was this happening? was this actually, honest-to-god happening?

"i really, really, really like you, keiji. and im not saying that as just a friend." you stated. you looked a bit nervous, but you felt just enough determination to look at him in the eyes.

akaashi, on the other hand...

akaashi steadied himself on the arm of the couch he was on. "seriously?" he breathed shakily, feeling like the news was too good to be true. his face was beet red, his whole body felt numb, and he had subconsciously pinched himself to make sure he wasn't dreaming. he had never felt such an intense rush of emotion, and he had no idea what to do with himself. for the first time in your relationship, akaashi was the one less composed and at a loss for words.

"yeah. it's fine if you don't feel the same way, but i thought that i just had to-"

your words died in your throat when akaashi suddenly lunged forward and pulled you tight against his chest, burying his face in your neck.

"i do too." he declared, smiling ear to ear. he pulled away to look at you, admiring your beauty.

"i really, really, really do."

© 𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐈𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 please do not copy or repost my work on any other site. interactions appreciated! 🤍

[charlietheepicwriter7]

Some Business Bozo puts a hit out on Vlad. It's one of Vlad's earliest victims, back before he knew how to properly cover his tracks but there were so few metas no one knew exactly what the hell happened. BB had his entire fortune and company stolen and has spent the rest of his life building up enough fortune to hire the best assassin to murder this bastard.

Enter Slade Wilson.

Slade has recently accepted the job to kill Vlad Masters. During preliminary research, Slade discovers Daniel Masters, formerly Fenton, the godchild Vlad adopted after his family died in an accident. The godchild who despises Masters for murdering his friends and family. The godchild who is willing to sell Masters out in a heartbeat if it means being free.

The Terminator and the Ghost Boy strike a deal. Slade even grows fond of the little maniac.

[dogd0m-charlie]

i feel like I'm cursed because i keep getting so fucking horny and wanting to just grab a guy roughly by the hips and grind against him and make him whine and squirm and beg for me to keep going and then growl and rip his clothes off with my teeth and mount him and fuck him and breed him like the world is ending but . I've just been conditioned to be so so polite and quiet and passive and nonconfrontational that i cannot initiate anything or even mention that i want to do anything without feeling a strong urge to hide my face in my hands and run away

[recurring-polynya]

i am. in tears.

[somewhereincairparavel]

I'm not obsessed with Jason Grace. I'm merely giving him the love he didn't get all these years. 💅

[rgrfederer]

shaking. crying. slipping though my fingers rafa edit