#ah yes soup

[greenglowinspooks]

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

—

Tw: N/A

Will be crossposted to AO3 eventually

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

(Masterlist/subscription post)

—

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.”

—

[tojisun]

ngl i'm about to fist fight the whole 141 for hyde 🥊 the poor thing deserves real affection and a couple of praises

(this was sent after this drabble and this blurb)

hyde deserves all the love they can get, and they could only get so much from kyle and john (we'll not even pretend that they get some from simon nor johnny because that is the can of worms of hwwl is!!) </3

...no because i think about how hyde stayed up awake that night in the safe house, waiting, thinking, before swallowing the bitter truth that leaving is the only best option.

i think about talking to price about it; how he must've talked you out of it. how he had asked if there was any other way he could help - he could've helped - and telling him that, well, it was never up to him.

i think about price telling you to... forgive them.

(in your wearied state, it sounded, more than anything else, as though john had chosen a side.)

kyle still has your number. hell, he's the only one who even stayed in touch (damning, isn't it? that not even johnny did). the messages are sparse, the calls even more so, but you both didn't need much more anyway because whatever you two have was bigger than yourselves.

you have always been used to only getting scraps, and then kyle came and showed you how to triumph even with just the crumbs.

(you've tried to kiss him once, but he pulled away and took you to see the stars. it wasn't a rejection, much like your kiss wasn't an act of love, but there, underneath the blanket of stars, you and kyle shared a tender moment. it was so soft it felt unreal.

it felt too good to be true.)

[maranigai]

/oc sketches/

Dorcas of Sellia, preceptress of glintstone arts.

Before | after battle of Aeonia.

[nest-of-kyshf]

My personal interpretation of The Void (Hollow Knight)

To be honest, my interpretation of the void is possibly a bit… different than most others you see around. It does appear empty, yet I feel like that emptiness is because of it being above time itself, like, it flat-out can’t have a consciousness like any other thing that exists(if it has a consciousness at all). 

All conscious life in that verse is still bound to time, though wyrms with their foresight can prolly see/sense more of time/timelines in general, and that would likely REQUIRE having a mind that is just built different:™: in order to process that. Meanwhile, the void is unbound by ALL time, it’s ‘seeing’ all of the past, present, AND future all at the same time. Because of the void being so detached to everything going on, with its field of view of time being so vast, it likely can’t really be comprehended by creatures that live in a linear path in time- 

That’s only one part of the equation though, at least in my book, the other is this: It consumes everything about those who fall into it/succumb to it if it can, and I mean EVERYTHING. It does appear to prioritize the minds over the bodies of those it seeks to consume though, honestly, It could also be that in canon the bodies couldn’t reach the void for one reason or another- Pale King was sealed away in a little pocket dimension, the lighthouse keeper could’ve barricaded themselves inside of there before they succumbed, and the only other void-body that I remember seeing was in either queens gardens or greenpath (the one you get the collector key off of)which is… a bit far away from the void. 

It likely dosen't go out of it's way to consume things, mostly passively observing, but instinctively grabbing onto anything that gets too close.

Plus, with the nature of consumption, everything consumed becomes a part of the one that consumes- and with it consuming not only the body but the mind... every memory, sensation, feeling, all just gets… mixed into the dark mass of this thing that is unbound by time and therefore sees and processes things likely SO differently that it’s either incomprehensible, or the, and i mean THE worst overstimulation ever- 

Like I'm thinking, if someone were to comprehend it, it’d likely be a swirling mass of future, present, and past events mixed in with the memories, sensations, and everything else of all the things that have ever been consumed by the void mixed into one single, overstimulating moment. Even if it was just for a second, the aftershocks of just comprehending it fully would prolly cause your brain to just immediately short circuit and shut down due to being so overwhelmed.

Like, to try to describe it, I think that it’d be like suddenly seeing not only 360 degrees around yourself, but also seeing everything else around you in 360, as well as going through all of the taste, touch, smell, hearing, sight, and other sensations of every living thing around you ALL AT ONCE, without changing the way you process information at all.

Sure, the void likely can focus into a specific section of what it sees, (void given focus *nudge nudge*) but without the void actively focusing on a specific thing going on right now at that specific moment in time, it's likely so spread out through quite literally everything that it doesn't register as something that’s actually alive, even if you were to look at it in a much wider perspective- 

tho I also don't think that the void itself is conscious the way other things are, which just adds another layer of alien-ness that's going on-

[enigmatic-lizard]

*someone leaves my house*

Me: oh boy oh BOY! I can’t wait to do anything I want! The potential is limitless!

*stares at a wall for three hours straight*

[spotsupstuff]

I see this and I want to hold her! She just so cute!!

TWO hits for the blorbo today

this is the same goddamn people and its fuckin me up today

[linabirb]

lina please stop choosing purple overlays or filters when you're drawing or editing a video i know you can do it you can pick other colors come on you can even go with pink come on NO PURPLE. STOP ALL OF YOUR LAST DRAWINGS AND EDITS ARE PURPLE. STOP OURPLINBG

[skyriderwednesday]

The tincture of night began to diffuse the soup of the afternoon.

In which may well be found the croutons of teatime.

(If you know then you know.)

[jinx-blackout-84]

Going thru my old drafts and I found this from when I had a week long mental breakdown and would not leave my room

[godzexperiment]

comforting the scaredy cat amongst them (rose)

halloween prompts ˗ˏˋ ꒰ 🎃 ꒱ -accepting :p-

When she jumped at the noise, he merely stretched out unbothered. "You good? For the record that was just somebody dropping their groceries. Probably cans of soup from the frequency of it."

[pumkinchipss]

Zombie woo 🤌🎶

[demonicallyslaying]

hehe lesbians

[the-dragon-invasion-is-near]

'm tryin to cook but my knees and lower back don't want me to :'D

[reshirfuse]

just wait until this guy finds out what tofu is also made out of. And miso.

hello please can I sleep in a studio ghibli bed it’s urgent

[glow-in-the-dark-death]

The Viewers

Danny and Tucker move in together for college in Gotham

Tucker decided to make tiktoks just for fun, he could teach people about technology and help give tips.

He didn't realize that his viewers could see Danny in the background in some clips.

Danny being Danny was never caught doing something normal instead it was always something weird.

~

Tucker: "So you just switch this piece here-"

Danny in the background more than half his body in the fridge, the fridge is very noticeably growling

Tucker who is so used to it, it doesn't even register in his mind that it's not normal.

~

Tucker fan-boying about the new Wayne tech

His viewers looking behind him at Danny

Danny running around fighting his food which is also growling & flying

~

Tucker modifying his tech for the viewers

Danny's voice in the distance: "Bye Tuck, I need to go soup this guy real quick!"

Viewers: "Cannibalism?!"

~

Tucker: "Ah yes a very normal video!"

His viewers watching Danny:

~

Just an Idea

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

Soooo random but

I think that choso would be a total Baby when he’s sick. Especially since he’s only been human for a little bit. He hasn’t even expirenced a cold before. He’d probably get super clingy and whiny and need to be taken care of.

Crybaby Choso

Tags: Choso x gn!Reader, sick!choso, needy!choso, sfw, fluffy drabble

An: You're so right, anon. I totally see Choso just being a whiny little crybaby when he's sick, but he's cute so he gets away with it.

"Baby." A deep raspy voice pulls you from your slumber, but you're not mad. You'd know that voice from anywhere.

"Yes baby?" You ask groggily, not even opening your eyes yet.

"Something's wrong..." Choso responds, giving you another nudge so you'll finally open your eyes.

"Hm? What's wrong?" You murmur, using your hands to wipe the sleep from your eyes. It's pitch black in your room, and a quick glance at your phone reveals that it's 2 in the morning.

"I don't feel right. I think I'm dying." Your sweet boyfriend's voice sounds so panicked. You also remember the one time he thought he was going to die because he stubbed his toe on the couch one morning.

Your boyfriend is incredibly strong and a skilled fighter. He knows just how to be rough around the edges, and he's not afraid to get dirty. It's the little things about being human that turn him into such a whiny mess.

You don't mind though. It warms your heart that he feels safe enough around you to drop the tough curse persona. He lets you get a front row seat of his vulnerabilities.

"What doesn't feel right, baby?" You ask in a soft tone. Your hands find his naked body underneath the blankets. He never liked sleeping with clothes on. His body felt warm and feverish under your touch.

"My stomach feels uneasy, and my head is pounding. I also can't breathe through my nose." Ah, classic symptoms of the man-flu. Choso is likely sick, but he's new to being human... and he's a man, which makes him a total crybaby when he's sick.

"Oh, you poor thing. C'mere." You murmur to him, and he immediately scoots over to you, lying his heavy, sweaty body on you. "Not that close, Choso-" You grunt from lying underneath his weight.

"I need you, baby. What if these are our final moments?" He whines, causing you to let out a small giggle from his overdramatic personality.

"You're not going to die." You assure him with another small laugh before grabbing his jaw and directed his forehead to your lips. You feel the heat from his head tingle your skin. He is running a fever.

His breath is coming out in small pants. You hum softly as you rise from the bed. "Where are you going, baby?" Choso whines like a lost puppy as he immediately tries to follow you.

You place a firm hand on his shoulder, preventing him from getting up from the bed. "I'm not going anywhere. Relax, honey. You're running a fever, so I'm going to go get you some medicine." You try to reassure him, but he gives you those puppy-dog eyes and that cute little pout. You know he's just a needy mess right now. "Be right back, promise." You press a quick kiss to his temple before venturing off to the bathroom to look in the medicine cabinet.

With you assortment of brews and potions (warm tea, medicine, and a small bowl of chicken noodle soup), you come back into the bedroom to find Choso helplessly holding your pillow, cuddling it closely to his chest with tears brimming his eyes.

"You must be really feeling bad, honey. Look. I got you some stuff to help you feel better." You mumble softly to him as you crawl into the bed next to him.

"You took forever. I don't think I can live without you when I'm like this, baby. You have to call off work tomorrow." How can you say no to such a pitiful expression? His face is pale with the exception of his poor little nose, which is rosy tint from sniffling.

"Okay, baby. I'll stay home." You respond with a small laugh before he wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you close.

"Can we cuddle and watch that show you really like, please?" He asks as his nose nudges at your neck, indulging his desire for your scent. He genuinely can't fathom going without you right now.

"Of course, baby. Whatever you want." You respond as you hand him the medicine and cup of tea. He, of course, makes a disgusted face as he tries to swallow the pills. Poor thing.

The rest of the week is dedicated to nursing poor Choso back to health through the power of kisses, cuddles, head petting, and Love is Blind. By the end of the week, he's back to his slightly-less-needy self..... aaaand you start to feel like shit! He ever so graciously passed his germs on to you.