Tumgik
#he is the embodiment of like
vulune · 5 months
Text
sobs hysterically on the dash about halovian siblings again
6 notes · View notes
verawhisk · 5 months
Text
Tumblr media
You are safe. The winds of fate blow you to the warmest of hearths in the most cordial of inns. The touch of the sun comforts your flesh, but never burns it.
my commissions are closed, but you can still look at my prices here!
6K notes · View notes
kylejsugarman · 2 months
Text
god i love people watching breaking bad for the first time and being blown away by aaron paul as jesse. like u can go in knowing Everything, knowing about the awards and acclaim and posts and scenes, but nothing can prepare u for the actual experience of seeing a completely real, fully fleshed-out person spring out of that actor's forehead fully formed. aaron paul would go on set, absolutely body scenes like no one else has before, and then leave like "ahaha idk man i just do it, ive never done an acting class i just fucking do the acting". its unbelievable.
3K notes · View notes
citricacidprince · 22 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Some more doodles of my Relativity Falls AU because ooooh the way I’m imagining it is so fun I just can’t stop thinking about it💥💥💥
Featuring: Manly “Boyish” Dan, Abuelita Anjelita, and some silly Mabifica because mmmmmm them in this AU makes me wanna lose my mind
2K notes · View notes
frodo-a-gogo · 7 months
Text
Let us be brutally honest with ourselves and with eachother for a moment. If he weren't obese you motherfuckers would be capable of percieving evrart claires sexy sexy moral ambiguity and complex charms
#i am (lesbian) sipping him like a fine DESSERT WINE#my evidence by the way is very simple and very damning. joyce messier. there i said it.#if you guys can appreciate the fact that Joyce is a complex figure worthy of disgust yes but also worthy of empathy#despite being a venal coward facilitating acts of violence and slaughter of the organized working poor of martinaise in the name of capital#if you can understand that she is a dimensional figure while also being an embodiment of the moral apathy and cruelty if capital owners#but you cant look at evrart and see that he is (while deeply flawed and morally suspect) also a dimensional figure#on top of the fact that his motivations are eminently relatable and dare i say it baser#and his greatest failing imho is in failing to advocate for the interests of *all* the poor of martinaise#opting instead to marginalize the inhabitants of the fishing village in favor of a power grab in the interests of himself and his union#though this is imo a bit of a grey area morally. undeniably a wrong and bad thing to do but done in service of clairs political goals#to gather power to advocate for the working class against ultraliberal monoliths like wild pines and fascistic orgs like krenel#still super wrong but i can follow the moral arithmetic there tho i don't like it#but like my point is if u can see that joyce is evil and pathetic but still cool and sexy but you consider clair flatly distasteful#thats cus hes not conventionally attractive#cus he is *every bit* as dimensional and interesting as joyce and he is not nearly as politically shite even if hes interpersonally a jerk
2K notes · View notes
bussyplease · 2 months
Text
Y'ALL I WATCHED THE WHOLE OLYMPIC OPENING CEREMONY AND OMFG IT WAS LIIIIT
There was every boat in existence. The best of french classical music with Ravel, Debussy, Saint-Saëns, Satie, and more. Céline Dion who hadn't sung in public in 4 whole years. Drag queens. All sorts of dancers. A video of a throuple. The contrast between Aya Nakamura and the military choir. They mixed up the names of Turkey and Tunisia on the screen announcements. The olympic flame on a hot air balloon. Statues emerging on the Seine. People doing biking tricks, skateboard and breakdance dressed as mimes, while floating on the water. The president almost didn't talk. Diversity and inclusion were central values of the show. The weather sucked, everything was SO WET. There was not one, not two, but three wet pianos involved.
But the real shit? The real PEAK of the whole show?? The image of the century??
PHILIPPE KATERINE COSPLAYING AS A NAKED SMURF IN A PLATE OF FRUIT, SINGING ABOUT HIS NAKED ASS, SAYING FUCK GUNS AND FUCK THE RICH, MOTHERFUCKERS
Tumblr media
THAT'S MY FRANCE
710 notes · View notes
puppetmaster13u · 6 months
Text
Prompt in Memes 4
Another prompt, but in memes because trying to gather my thoughts is hard sometimes lol.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
822 notes · View notes
cinemaocd · 3 months
Text
Jack Rackham is my favorite character in Black Sails because Toby Schmitz is the only actor who realizes he is in a prequel for Muppet Treasure Island...
589 notes · View notes
hereticalseraph · 3 months
Text
Tumblr media
Surprised I haven’t seen Peter Turbo in this meme format yet
546 notes · View notes
bunnyboy-juice · 2 months
Text
NO MORE ASSOCIATING THINGS WITH FEMMES ONLY BECAUSE THEY ARE PINK!HYPERFEM FEMMES ARE GREAT AND I LOVE YOU CAMPY FEMMES WHO EMBODY PINK BUT ALSO JESUS CHRIST CAN YOU GUYS NOT GO MORE THAN ONE DAY W/O TRYING TO SHOEHORN FEMMES INTO BEING ONLY PINK UWU BABIES. I AM FEMME AS IN GRASS AS IN DIRT AS IN TREE BARK AS IN WEEDS SPROUTING THROUGH THE SIDEWALK CEMENT. FEMME AS IN GENDER NONCONFORMITY AS IN FUCK YOU MY FEMININITY IS WHAT *I* SAY IT IS. FEMME AS IN DEPTH AND DARKNESS AND WARMTH AND TERROR. FEMME AS IN CAVES. FEMME AS IN LIGHTNING. FEMME AS IN AN AMALGAMATION OF TRAITS THAT I HAVE DECIDED ARE FEMININE REGARDLESS OF WHAT SOCIETY SAYS. FUCK IS IT THAT HARD TO UNDERSTAND?!???
#personal#i am emotional yes#over the years ive had this blog I've made a few posts abt being femme#nd whether they're serious or jokey..... inevitably someone in the tags goes “ohhh yeah bc pink”#or in the case of what inspired this post: someone going “what about the pink ones” on my praying mantis post#and im just.#sick of it. im sick of femme being equated to pink and frilly girlie behaviors.#im sick of femme being equated to skirts and heels. to makeup. to skincare. to pristine nails exactly almond shaped.#im sick of ppl acting like All femmes aspire to this shit. im sick of femms being reduced to this shit.#and i love pink! i love pink! my phone theme is quite literally just black and pink all over.#im just. so tired of any expression of Femme identity being shoehorned into being a Specific type of femininity#especially as someone who DOES get dysphoric wearing skirts. wearing dresses. embodying the femme aesthetic yall are so set on making#if u guys wanna rb this i truly dont care#i just needed to scream#and this is one small thing#but the 2nd largest category of anon hate i have gotten since making this blog is str8 up homophobia from other “queer” folks#saying i cant be femme bc of how i present. calling me slurs (and using them as such) bc they cant understand femme as anything but that#my wife and i have our users in our personal discord server set as 2 different things of anon hate ive gotten#i have had OTHER FEMMES tell me i am not femme. femmes who Know im femme who still call me butch. femmes who ive corrected and been blocked#-by bc of it. the number 1 largest demographic of queerfolk who have me blocked rn is TME femmes who embody pink also#and i dont think its a coincidence at all. (and i know this bc i go to try and follow these ppl bc they get rbed on my dash & i cant)#and ik their blogs arent deleted bc some of them don't block my wife (tall. white. butch) and it cant be politics cause her and i rb#a lot of the same political shit (fuck. i think she rbs More than i do even. this is genuinely mainly a nsft blog)#and usually i don't say anything but im having a bad day so i get to be angry about this and if anyone fucking tries me i will block u#idc if we've been mutuals 4ever. im judt so tired of feeling like i am not Enough as a femme bc i dont embody this shit#im sick of this lameass lip service to he/him gnc femmes etc when the thin white 50s housewife femme is still what is preferred and loved#im sick of this lamesss lip service when y'all feel entitled to theorizing on other femmes genders bc u cant conceptualize a femme who does#wanna be hypetfeminine. im sick of it. im sick of it. im sick of it.#celebrity bun
408 notes · View notes
little-pondhead · 5 months
Text
Your Ancient History, Written In Wax
-
Danny knew he should have put better security around the Sarcophagus of Eternal Sleep. It wasn’t even Vlad who opened it this time! The fruitloop was too busy doing his actual mayor duties because for some godforsaken reason, the man got re-elected.
No, it wasn’t Vlad. And it wasn’t Fright Knight, either. Nor the Observants. Who opened the Sarcophagus, then? Danny didn’t have time to find out as Pariah Dark promptly tore open a hole in reality and started hunting Danny down.
The battle was longer this time. He didn’t have the Ecto-Skeleton, as that was the first thing Pariah had destroyed. The halfa had grown a lot over the past few years, and learned some new tricks, but apparently sleeping in a magic ghost box meant that Pariah had absorbed a lot of power. The bigger ghost acted like a one-man army!
Amity Park was caught in the middle of the battle, but the residents made sure it went no further than that. Vlad and the Fentons made a barrier around the town to keep the destruction from leaking. Sam, Tucker, and Dani did crowd control while Danny faced the king head-on.
Their battle shook the Zone and pulled them wildly between the mortal plane and the afterlife. Sometimes, residents noticed a blow from Pariah transported them to the age of the dinosaurs, and Phantom’s Wail brought them to an unknown future. Then they were in a desert. Then a blazing forest. Then underwater. It went on like that, but no one dared step foot outside of Amity. They couldn’t risk being left behind.
It took ages to beat him, but eventually, Danny stood above the old ghost king, encasing his symbols of power in ice so they couldn’t be used again. He refused to claim the title for himself. Tired as he was, Danny handed the objects off to Clockwork for safe keeping and started repairing the damage Pariah had done to the town. The tear he’d made was too big to fix, for now, so no one bothered. They just welcomed their new ghostly neighbors with open arms and worked together to restore Amity Park.
Finally, the day came to bring down the barrier. People were gathered around the giant device the Fentons had built to sustain it. Danny had brought Clockwork to Amity, to double check that they had returned to the right time and dimension.
Clockwork assured everyone that they were in the right spot, and only a small amount of time had passed, so the Fentons gave the signal to drop the shield.
Very quickly did they discover that something was wrong. The air smelled different. The noise of the nearby city, Elmerton, was louder and more chaotic. Something was there that wasn’t before, and it put everyone on edge.
Clockwork smiled, made a remark about the town fitting in better than before, and disappearing before Danny could catch him.
Frantic, Danny had a few of his ghost buds stay behind to protect the town while he investigated.
He flew far and wide, steadily growing horrified at the changes the world had undergone. Heroes, villains, rampant crime and alien invasions. The Earth was unrecognizable. There were people moving around the stars like it was second nature and others raising dead gods like the apocalypse was coming. Magic and ectoplasm was everywhere, rather than following the ley lines like they were supposed to.
Danny returned to Amity.
The fight with Pariah had taken them through space and time. Somewhere along the way, they had changed the course of history so badly that this now felt like an alien world.
How was he supposed to fix this?
-
In the Watchtower, The Flash was wrapping up monitor duty while Impulse buzzed around him, a little more jittery than usual. The boy was talking a mile a minute, when alarms started blaring an alarming green. Flash had never seen this alarm before, and its crackling whine was grating on his ears.
Flash returned to the monitor, frantically clicking around to find the issue, but nothing was popping up. No major disasters, no invasions, no declarations of war. Nothing! What was causing the alarm?
Impulse swore and zipped to a window, pressing his face against it and staring down at Earth. “Fuck! It’s today isn’t it? I forgot!”
“What’s today?” Flash asked. He shot off a text to Batman, asking if it was an error. The big Bat said it wasn’t, and that he would be there soon.
“The arrival of Amity Park. I learned about this in school; the alarm always gives me headaches.”
Flash turned to his grandson, getting his attention. “Bart,” he stressed. “What are you talking about?”
Impulse barely glanced over his shoulder. Now that Flash was facing him, he could see a strong glow coming from Earth. “The first villain, first anti-villain, and the first hero,” he said anxiously. “They all protect the town of the original metas. They’re all here.”
“Here? Now??”
“Yeah? They weren’t before, but they are now. The first hero said there was time stuff involved, which was what inspired me to start practicing time travel in the first place.”
“I’m not following.”
“It’s okay. We should probably go welcome them before they tear apart Illinois, though. The history I remember says that some of them freaked and destroyed a chunk of the Midwest during a fight with each other.”
“WHAT?”
#dpxdc#pondhead blurbs#liminal amity park#I’ve seen stuff like this in the mhaxdp fandom and I eat it up every time#basically the fight with Pariah caused the town to jump through time a little#and while they THOUGHT they were keeping everything in#shit leaked out and tainted those points in time#so technically#historically and genetically speaking#Amity Park is the origin point for the meta gene and Danny made history as the first hero#because Clockwork is a little shit#everyone embodies a basic ability and it has grown from there#the flash family are direct descendants of Dani (speed force Dani for the win)#Dash is the reason super strength exists#so on and so forth#go buck wild#bart learned about it briefly in history class in the 30th century#practically hero worships them#booster gold knows about them too but in contrast to Bart’s excitement#booster is fucking terrified because there was a period where Amity Park rebelled against the US government#and he’s from that specific time#he learned to fear phantom because he lived during that part while Bart is from farther in the future when those issues got resolved#guess who’s chosen to welcome the town? >:)#if you’re wondering what happened to the GIW#they turned into the branch Amanda Waller runs#Danny is the first hero#Vlad the first villain#and Dani the first anti hero#there’s an arc where Danny is trying to fix things but clockwork won’t let him into the timestream and all the heroes are horrified#because yeah Danny is the OG but if he goes back in time to fix his ‘mistake’ what will happen to them?
662 notes · View notes
homoquartz · 1 month
Text
edwin was simon's manic pixie dream boy if u really think about it
319 notes · View notes
clfixationstation · 5 months
Text
people are arguing on twt over whether Mikasa or Historia understands Eren the best, when the clear answer is Armin
551 notes · View notes
kagoutiss · 6 months
Text
Tumblr media
din’s champion
632 notes · View notes
hoarding-stories · 8 days
Text
Also, it is so fucking wonderful that Abubakar just is the Archeart now
310 notes · View notes
greenglowinspooks · 11 months
Text
(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.
1K notes · View notes