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#ship whatever the fuck you want
martianclown · 2 years
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centroverted · 2 years
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I think TaeTimeTay are thing for the same reason VegasPete is, people just liked the morally gray area. I mean, Vegas does R*pe Pete and people are just waiting for it, to be fair compare to that TTT sounds bit better thought
I mean that's fair
(Also let it be said that I'm def not judging anyone who ships TaeTimeTem for that exact reason, cause I mean, look at who I ship, apologies if it seemed that way)
I do not understand what that part of VegasPete had to happen, like the VegasPete I like is the part after that, them in the special chapter, the part that shows the caring side of Vegas. It's also why I like show VP so much better, cause that doesn't happen.
Idk I think my thing with TTT is that I havent seen anything of them that's minus the cheating. Like give me something that shows Tae and Time both deciding to be with Tem and I'd be 100% down for it. While the VegasPete content I enjoy is ones that's minus that aspect of it.
Am I making sense?
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lehdenlaulu · 1 year
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Why the FUCK is Twitter recommending me the hashtag #24DaysofReylo???
WHY is it still apparently such a thing??? Gah.
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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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tired-fandom-ndn · 2 months
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I just. Really like grayromantic Alastor.
Alastor, who spent his entire life drifting through society, always knowing what was expected of him but never feeling it. No sweaty palms when talking to a pretty lady, no racing heart when a handsome man touched his arm, no dreams of a wife and children. Maybe he even got married, to a lovely woman who never questioned his hunting trips, only because he knew that being married would make him less suspicious. But he never felt anything for her or anyone else.
And then he dies and years (decades) pass and he continues to feel nothing. Until he meets that one person, the first person in his century of existence who makes his heart race and his stomach to flutter with something other than hunger. He's never needed romance before, never wanted it, but now he needs them.
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gunstellations · 3 months
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In the world I love
_
In a different world
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tippenfunkaport · 3 months
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That viral post that's going around about how people who write "book quality" mlm fic are too "normal" to publish and have real jobs so only "weird" people publish their "shitty" fanfic is so completely out of touch with reality and I am giving a massive side eye to everyone reblogging it.
Not only is it completely, easily verifiably untrue (you cannot enter any professional writing space without tripping over a dozen grizzled scifi writers who got their start by filing off the serial numbers and publishing their Star Trek fanfic even going back decades ago??? it's a whole thing?? plus how can you look at the mlm category on Amazon right now and say with a straight face that people aren't publishing shitty Spirk and Stucky fanfic??? Oh, honey...) it's also the perfect example of this kind of sneering elitism that true artists would never sully themselves by seeking profit, they do it only for the purity of the thing that always somehow leads back to, "no one should be paid to make art, actually."
The only reason you're seeing more published fanfic right now has nothing to do with the idealistic purity of your hypothetical government employee written smut of the past vs the debased scribbles of those awful straights of today and everything to do with the fact that a) self-publishing has created a voracious readership that wants a ton of content so it's become a viable, flexible income stream for many, especially disabled people b) anyone can publish now with self-publishing tools so there are less gatekeepers and c) lockdown got a lot of people into fandom and therefore writing who never tried it before.
And if you really think there's no "shitty" published mlm and no "book-quality" m/f writing out there that started as fanfic, then you are clearly not a reader so why are you even talking about this?
#love how they manipulated people into spreading that post by making it seem like a cishet vs gay thing#when the real message is OP thinks trying to sell your writing is cringe and 'weird' and 'normal people' with jobs would never#which would of course never have flown on the fandom website#so they played into the queer shipping is purer than cishet shipping puriteen thing#and it worked!#because my god people are gullible#this is the direct pipeline that leads to AI thievery#''normal' people write for the joy of it anyway so why do you need pay? you are just greedy and 'weird'!'#'oh no this isn't about who we get to call cringe and who gets to profit from art it's about um...#(quick what's a hated m/f ship?).. oh uh 'shitty' REYLO#and not our super pure uh... (spirk is still popular right? lets throw in that avengers one too to make it seem timely) stucky!'#I'm sorry if I have no sense of humor about this but the year is 2024 and people are still way too ready to sneer#about writers trying to earn a fucking living in the shittiest timeline#and i need you to look deep into yourself and ask you why it's so important to you to tell yourself that only people writing what you like#are 'normal' with real jobs and to vilify everyone else as 'weird' and 'shitty'#for trying to make an income during a financial fucking crisis#i would say sorry for ranting about this but I'm not sorry because wtf#write whatever you want#publish whatever you want#there is no moral fucking purity in what the content is#and one thing certainly doesn't make you more 'weird' or 'normal' than the other#like there is soooo much shitty mlm that started as fanfic???#that post is 100% OP made up some guys to get mad about and called them relyos for the clicks#writing#publishing#writblr#writeblr#i wasn't going to tag this anything but you know what fuck it I'm mad#i had like 5 more tags but tumblr cut me off which is fair 😅#fan fiction
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andorerso · 6 months
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I've seen those ship bingos going around (fun!!) but there wasn't enough... me-flavored opinions so I decided to make one too
feel free to reblog and play <3
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itscherryterry-again · 3 months
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if your toxic yuri isnt toxicyuri-ing to your tastes, store bought works just fine
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tubbytarchia · 11 days
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"Cool ship art, unfortunately I'm interpreting it platonically" dude it's literally fine lol. Guys please. Art is meant to be interpreted. Don't call it unfortunate just because you think your interpretation differs from the artist's vision (and please refrain from using wording that implies strictly correct and wrong interpretations, it dismisses others!)
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paellegere · 3 months
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something i enjoy about wincest is that i can just take it for granted. like yeah those brothers are fucking, they've always been fucking, and they'll keep fucking until god himself cuts off their dicks
there's a lot of ships in the world that require subtext and imagination but samdean is definitely not one of them
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loomingtwilight · 5 months
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i love neuvifuri’s dynamic and relationship. like. imo they are the epitome of “we are inseparable, we are in love in every way, we are soulmates not by birth or due to fate binding us inexplicably but because we spent those 500 years being the one constant in each others lives and weve come to know each other the best, but we are simultaneously strangers. we never truly knew each other during all that time.“
and neuvillette knew for so long furina was keeping a secret from him and it pained him to force that secret into the light, but he knew he had to in order to save fontaine, and despite that he still wanted to do it as gently as possible. to make the trial the last resort if the travelers conversation didnt work. after the final events of the archon quest, he let furina go wherever she wished, he (if im remembering correctly) gave her a nice house and enough funds to do as she pleased and live comfortably. he used his new authority over hydro to give her a vision made specifically for her, the very first vision he has given out. he has made it as clear as day that she is welcome to talk to him, to ask to have tea, to ask him for whatever or simply just to talk.
neuvillette using those actions to say “i hope you let me know who you truly are, and allow me to stay in your life for as long as you wish, but i love you so i will not force you.”
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sapphicsparkles · 9 months
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Filled with righteous lesbian fury today, new art soon
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oceanwithouthermoon · 2 months
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ive come to realise that i dont actually hate kubokai, i just hate the way people write them
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gutsybitsies · 1 year
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controversial opinion perpollo should be way sassier. i don't even ship them and i think this is how it should go (with percy in his mid 20s of course):
percy constantly has self doubt issues and doesn't think that he's good enough. but when he's with apollo, he thinks "ah yes this asshole is enough of a loser to vibe with my loser vibes."
with anyone else he thinks "what if i mess up and this person leaves me?"
with apollo he thinks "yeah this is just a fling, he's a fucking asshole?" and then sprays water at apollo's head to make a rainbow. but the "fling" just never ends and both of them are too idiotic to do something about it.
and if percy's in his mid 30s-40s when perpollo happens its
percy: "you're good looking enough to sleep with but your past actions have me unimpressed." and "i've worked too hard to be emotionally well adjusted for you to come barging in with 4000 years of issues"
then percy accidentally negs apollo into being obsessed with him.
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smultronviol · 2 months
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Honestly I think the most unforgivable crime comitted by the new ATLA adaptation is bringing back the fucking kataang/zutara discourse🥰
Like, I can forgive a lot, but I can't forgive the fact that my own eyes, in the year of our lord 2024, have to be subjected to takes I first saw on 2011 DeviantArt
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