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#mean girls inspired
eternal-wint · 1 year
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summer reyna in mean girls inspired outfit
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kindaqueerngl · 8 months
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hello kitty and my melody as people :0
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Hello kitty to the right, My melody to the left :)
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greenglowinspooks · 6 months
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(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.
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tubbytarchia · 3 months
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Somewhere in the woods, a moth tires of seeking light
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brittlebutch · 9 months
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Shoutout to Bill and Ted’s Excellent Holiday Special for giving us outright canonical Jewish Bill S. Preston Esq. <3
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erikahenningsen · 25 days
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However long it takes
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malevolencc · 1 year
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look out jean! your heterosexual life partner just forgot who you are and has imprinted on another cop way cooler and sexier than you! jean!! jean hes having a bisexual awakening without you!!! JEAN!!!!
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upliftourday · 2 months
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ozymandiasdirge · 10 months
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big boss is so lucky his harem of exes are too dickmatized by his mediocre yet canonically radioactive game to unionize against him and effectively utilize their blonde #girlpower to beat him to death with hammers i can tell you that
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acertifiedmoron · 4 days
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yeah overthinking prophecies is the mind killer but i have to say my piece re azor ahai, that is, if it's really meant to be one character, then the best narrative choice is dany. not only because she fulfills every word of the prophecy an entire book before we even learn of its existence. but also "no one ever looked for a girl," aemon tells us. in-universe her gender precludes her from being imagined as the saviour figure and on a meta level even the readers don't think the 16 year old girl with this much power (dragons) will be allowed to keep that power and fulfill an important narrative destiny as a hero of the story. the expectation is that the character will be brought low and/or surpassed by the classic warrior hero archetype of jon. which is why i think dany being AA is the most subversive choice. and would actually make jon the red herring.
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foreveradora · 5 months
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*slightly mean motivation ahead*
"I wish I started earlier..."
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everyone avoids doing the thing that they have been wanting to do for YEARS simply because of stupid procrastination.
but now it's damn time. it is time that you start working towards your goals and not being a lazy nobody. why are you just sitting in your room, literally rotting and not doing anything whatsoever? why are you doing this to yourself? it's time that you get your lazy ass up and you actually do something.
how long have you been wanting to achieve that goal? yes, that goal, the one you have been wanting for what feels like all your life, that goal. how do you think you are going to achieve this? by being in your bedroom watching your phone all day? ha! that is so embarrassing!
imagine wanting something for LITERAL YEARS and DOING ABSOLUTELY NOTHING to reach it. that is so absurd. just because it's a big goal doesn't mean that you can't work up to it smh 🙄
future you is crying because you couldn't get your lazy ass up. you are making it harder for your future self just because of some random shit on your phone that you won't remember in an hour.
you know what you will remember? you achieving and working hard to achieve your goal.
but no, you decide to procrastinate, absolutely pathetic. i feel bad for your future self...
it is really damn pathetic how you think you will achieve your goals by doing LITERALLY NOTHING.
get your act together babe...
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 1 year
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Keep Being Amazing!!! (sorry I drew this with my mouse. I was too lazy to get a real pen.) I hope you have a wonderful day!
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roseworth · 27 days
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i think ppl who compare alex dewitt to uncle ben are correct, and i will stand by the fact that even though alex coined the term fridging, it wasnt really her being fridged since its more complicated than that. but i feel like with that its still important to talk about how there WAS misogyny in alex's death because of the way its different than uncle ben's
their deaths were definitely the same idea-- alex & ben both died so kyle & peter respectively would understand the gravity of being a hero and would take it more seriously, and their deaths had more narrative significance than an average fridgegirl
however. i think its worth mentioning that kyle didn't need it the way peter did. when alex died, kyle WAS being a hero. the reason he wasnt with alex when she died is that he was saving people. alex's death was used to teach him that being a hero wasnt fun, which was not a lesson that she needed to die for him to learn. when ben died, it was to teach peter that people were going to get hurt if he didnt stop the bad guys. ben's death was used to teach him about great power, great responsibility, etc, and the lesson wouldnt have had the same weight if he didnt die. the reason alex had to die was so kyle could have Man Angst about it, not because her death was vital to the narrative in the way ben's was
building off that, alex was killed by someone that kyle had never met and had no way of knowing about. ben died because peter saw the man that killed him earlier that day and didnt stop him, but alex died just because kyle was busy at that moment. again, he was saving people. alex didnt need to die to teach him a lesson about being a hero since he WAS already being a hero (not to mention he gets the same lesson like 5 other times when he meets alan & hal & the other lanterns. but we can ignore that for now). as a character, peter needed uncle ben's death to define his morals & his view of himself as a hero. alex didnt die because of a mistake or a choice kyle made, her death was just to give the story flavor and to give kyle something to be upset about
also, the way they died was very different. the point gail simone was making with the term "fridging" was that alex's death was needlessly brutal. uncle ben was shot off-panel, and all the reader sees is cops at peter's house. alex was attacked and strangled on-panel, and her body was mutilated and shoved in a refrigerator for no reason. while this is partially just because one is from 1962 and the other is from 1994, the point is that the man gets the grace of a simple death while the woman gets the unnecessarily gruesome death
anyways. im not saying that alex and ben had to die in the exact same way for comparisons to matter. obviously theyre different stories and different lessons so theyre going to be different deaths. marz intended alex to be kyle's uncle ben, and she was! but the misogyny comes in when you think about how different their deaths are
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lskamil27 · 8 months
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" BUTCHER " // JIRI - Termina OC + Moonscorched
Succumbed to my whims and made a Termina OC whose lost his eye from a chicken at his family's farm
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yearningsaphic · 7 months
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I think it would really advance society if we admitted that mothers can be just as toxic and abusive if not more than dads and stopped dismissing it as “they gave birth to you”
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abrahamvanhelsings · 2 years
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and kudos to van helsing for NOT putting the blame on mrs westenra and instead saying "we can't tell her how close lucy is to death and so she did what she thought was best for her daughter but in doing so unknowingly endangered both her life and soul"
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