#this is an old picture actually

[underwhelmingalchemist]

"I am a mature and responsible adult," I tell myself while spending most of my time here:

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[skyburger]

do they celebrate pride month on teo

[taxinealkaloids]

girls will literally turn their parents’ corpses into meat puppets to prevent the House of their birthright from being annexed by other powers 

[lazer-meme]

love love love steddie + supportive wanye

thinking about wayne and eddie going on an annual fishing trip (like thee Munson Men Annual Fishing Trip™️) just like a little weekend away. and the first one is coming up after eddie and steve starts dating. over breakfast eddie jokingly complains about having to go and tries to get out of it. but wayne is used to his dramatics so he just gives hmms when appropriate because eddie’s whole spiel never got him out of it before and he tells eddie that.

steve watches the whole exchange with amusement when wayne asks if he’s looking forward to it. and he’s like ??? because he assumed it was just a wayne and eddie thing. and wayne is like i just told eddie all munsons must go can’t get out of it kid.

steve gets flustered and is internally is like oh??? all munsons,,,

or like after the trip a neighbor asks wayne if they caught anything and he pulls out his wallet to show a picture they took on the trip. wayne passes it with ‘here’s a picture of my boys’ and to steve’s surprise it’s a picture of both him and eddie with their biggest catch.

and just idk wayne casually accepting steve into their family and throwing steve off guard with it.

[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.”

—

[yourlocalabomination]

I am not immune to funny crackships.

+ Bonus

[klazje]

hey queen, are you loosing your religion yet?

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it's completely ethical for a child of influencers to sue their parents for non-consentually making them a child influencer

[nopeemi]

they were schoolboys, never held a

[icewindandboringhorror]

HAPPY 16TH BIRTHDAY!!! To this elderly bapy boye!!! he...!!!

[regina-del-cielo]

Maybe it's a 'study finds water is wet' type of thought, but

considering it's an action movie whose overall plot is "immortal warriors Fuck Shit Up™️", I think it's significant that in The Old Guard the thing that makes Copley pull red strings through his Murder Conspiracy Board and say "[Merrick] doesn't care what [Andy]'s done with [her immortality]" is the people they save, not the ones they kill

Most of the Conspiracy Board is him circling random newspaper headlines and faces on old photographs to (more or less realistically) follow the immortals' treck through the world and big historical events. Which is, in-canon, not much different than putting portraits from different centuries next to a picture of Keanu Reeves and saying "they look the same, clearly Reeves is an immortal!"

But then there are the connections. A little girl holding Joe's hand in WW1 becoming the youngest (and first) woman to be awarded a Nobel Prize for Medicine (suck it, Kozak). Or the grandchild of a family that Andy saved from [something] helping people escape from the Khmer Rouge genocide in Cambodia.

They are warriors. They have fought and been in the midst of countless wars, major or minor, throughout history. They must have killed as many people as they saved... and yet.

It's not them taking out a random warlord or dictator or rabidly hateful politician that has tangible repercussions in history. It's the children and families they get out of war zones, save from accidents, protect from natural disasters. People to whom they give a second chance at life, and grow to change the world (or even just their own world), like a mysterious stranger once changed theirs just by holding out a hand or patching a wound.

I don't know I just think it's particularly neat

[inkskinned]

being single in your late 20s & 30s is so fucking wild bc on one hand it's fun and flirty and you skip a lot of the bullshit because you know what you're looking for and you know how to spot a red flag from a mile away and you've learned to set boundaries and communicate your own and be upfront about your needs and most of the time they've learned it too - and if they haven't, you can tell after the second date that they haven't been to therapy

and every time you feel lonely and dried up and an ugly husk there's a whole community of other single people out there who are just as unhinged and want to hang out with you because they just need a plus-one like you do and you get introduced to like. people in their 60's and 70's and 80's who are all like - nope, single life is my choice and i love it and you feel warm and seen and like okay, it's not the end of the world if i'm not seeing anybody. and yeah it's hard and sometimes exhausting but part of getting better is that you do make like so many friends and do so much wild shit because you made a promise to yourself that you'll actually get out there and try shit and actually work on your hobbies and skills and friendships because to be honest in relationships you wouldn't push yourself this hard and it's actually been super rewarding because it came from you and from what you wanted

and yes of course the apps such and dating in general can suck but after one of the bad dates you go back to your apartment and call up those friends you made and make jokes about what the other person said and it rolls right off your back and you have plans for self-care in the morning. you prioritize yourself and your happiness and you really actually don't mind it, a lot of the time, unless it's like at a wedding and they're doing one of those couples-related things. most of the time it's not even a problem except when you can tell people pity you for it and you're like - i'm actually fine, babe, even without a partner i am still, like a person and yes of course it would be nice to have a partner but you have established yourself as a person and as an adult in a way that feels really hard-won and well-earned and you're protective of that and of the life you're living and honestly you're pretty happy, all things considered

and at the same time you do have to tell your father that you are single on purpose right now and that, yes, believe it or not, they're letting women be single past the age of 30 these days without burning us at the stake (can you imagine!) and you have to kind of sit pretty while people make jokes about how you're losing your marriageability and you're like, a little too old for the bars and the clubs and whatever but you do still want to go out dancing and it's like. the other day you went to a board game party and had the time of your life and then your mom calls you and says she's worried because what if you never find the one, shouldn't you be spending more time looking? and you're like - trying to balance this place where you're actually, like, perfectly okay? except you hear this thing over and over and over - oh no. that's so sad. i hope you find your lover. and you weren't really upset about it until someone suggested that you're running out of time and until someone said that it's so miserable that you live without someone to kiss and you're like why can't anyone believe that i'm genuinely happy. like. joy. like. bliss.

and then they look at you and they look at their partner and the look passes between them that says - poor thing. you're just lying to yourself about this.

[kerryweaverlesbian]

Dean Winchester of Supernatural fame is NOT reading parenting books he is putting on Cheaper By The Dozen, Daddy Daycare and Honey I Shrunk The Kids taking notes.

[nerdpoe]

Itty Bitty Timmy becoming Superman obsessed instead of Batman obsessed

And he somehow still manages to tail Superman for photos without Superman knowing.

Like, his parents move to Metropolis instead of Gotham. He gets saved by Superman at three instead of watching the Graysons die.

He fixates.

He pinpoints where Superman appears to start from during emergency vs where he starts from via regular patrol based on the level of crime stopped and manages to find not only the Daily Planet, but also Clarks goddamn apartment building.

He manages to get a list and pictures of all reporters at the Daily Planet.

He figures out who Superman is.

Superman only realizes he has a child following him around when said child almost gets too close the the action.

And then he does it again.

And again.

In the middle of an argument, the same one that would have driven Jason away, Superman flies into the cave holding a windswept Tim.

"Please teach him how not to die." Was probably not the best opener, but Clarks suffered multiple small heart attacks thanks to the kid, and he needs help from the only completely human hero he knows who can go toe to toe with gods.

The other option was Green Arrow, but Tim's need to solve mysteries fits more with Bruce than Ollie.

[pain-in-the-butler]

A compilation of art for my Dadbastian fanfic Coattails that I commissioned from the incredibly talented @tomoyoo! They went above and beyond with the details... Each picture feels as cozy and warm as a storybook, right? I'm so delighted with how they turned out!! Thank you for making each one so beautiful! 🥹🥹🥹