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#and I know some don’t read it
xx-thedarklord-xx · 2 months
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I think I’m going to cry
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venacoeurva · 4 months
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You know when you’re falling asleep and a random image or meme blips into your vision? Yeah
-Please do not reupload/edit/use without proper credit and linking back. Ask first.-
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bottombaron · 6 months
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oh ok so its the usual no-homo bullshit you always hear, good to know.
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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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fence-time · 1 month
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ZIT designs from Stardust by @a-plethora-of-peters <3
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I hate you stranger on the internet that claims the marauders fandom could use another big fic but then refuses to actually read a wip
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otaku553 · 9 months
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Haha
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fumifooms · 3 months
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Kaka compilation
Because everyone is sleeping on him. Witness his greatness!! First two Kaka colored icons were colored by me, lineart by Ryoko Kui though!
Kaka & Kiki are kinda like Laios & Falin… Kaka being stoic and giving repressed energy like early Laios, Kiki being cryptic and always smiling and kinda soft-looking. Autism siblings 2, ostracized and othered as kids and have a deep bond due to sticking together through it all, though unlike with Laios their parents are very loving so Kaka developed family as a big value more than Laios (bc asides for Falin Laios doesn’t care much about it).
In the gnome festival comic you can see Kaka is more emotive than he seems! Full with a :3 face, and he’s the one crying at the end. He’s insecure about his legs and being tall… It really got to him. Conceal don’t feel. In the gnome festival comic you also see him sensing others’ gaze on him and that something is off unlike Kiki, again Laios-like in the way that judgement from others gets to him more than her.
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deltaruminations · 4 months
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what if gaster in a future chapter calls out the audience for speculating so much about him. the guy canonically has some amount of access to Real Life Social Media. like i started this mostly as a joke but there are definitely some real metanarrative opportunities for a character with recklessly curious impulses, and possibly a fragile sense of self, having nearly limitless access to streams of debate over whether or not he’s a bastard. rude to talk about someone who’s listening etc
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daisychainsandbowties · 4 months
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any avatrice recs :)))) have already read all your fics and now i am depression (genuinely daydream abt ur star wars au daily)
i could hype each of these fics individually but basically if it’s here i think it’s incredible and you have to read it 💖💖🥰
///
the sweetest taboo// 1930s au &
i know now what no angel knows// fallen angel au by @dumpsterfireofsubtext
indy au part 1 & part 2// or, ava peels an orange & makes me feel insane 🫠🫠🫠 by @estherthenormal
lemon drop boy// t boy ava au
lazarus woke with a kiss// scp/ lab rat ava au &
how to stitch holes in the sky// dragon age au, all by @the-darkness-does-not-bargain
teach me to love (as you have loved me)// this is. yeah. this is beautiful. newbea au by @birgittesilverbae (💖💖 ily)
beyond our space and starlight// eldritch au by @thistleation
escape attempt number whatever thousand, some hundred and four, probably// hades au by @foulbearobservation
do a flip// aikido gfs au by @sunsafewriting
if saints and angels spoke of love// (bea is a math teacher & ava’s basically the guy from dead poets society) by @mermaidandthedrunks
choose the devil i know (over the heaven i don’t)// firefighter au by @sapphicstacks
leave the light on (i’ll find my way home)// lighthouse au by @snowandwolves
on the run from a losing game// chef au by @fiddleabout
this must be the place// lumberjack au by @littledata
love thy neighbour// my fav roommates au. pokemon strap-on fic 😌🙏
turning sun into sugar, spinning straw into gold// pnw au by @gohandinhand
the world is just an illusion (trying to change you)// roadtrip au, &
a lover, or something of mine// reincarnation au by @smokestarrules
who needs comfortable love// sentient halo au by @the-ominous-owl
this celestial glow is blinding// firewatch au
the thought of high windows// 60s au
pull back the curtains for venus// alien bea au &
of greater marvels yet to be// fleabag au, all by @seabiscuits-us
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rapidhighway · 6 months
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everyone who knows me knows im so weak for my fave getting magically de-aged for fluff and plot reasons
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b-o-e · 1 year
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paint me like one of your french girls
Wally Darling x Reader
Warnings: you aren’t very good at painting lol
although it is not necessary, I highly suggest reading my fics in their recommended order for the best experience! here is the link to all my silly lil wally fics in order. this is #2 :)
You weren’t the best painter, nor were you the best at picking up hints…
“... this is atrocious.”
You were not a painter. You were finding that much out right now.
“Well, don’t say that. It has me in it, so it can't be that bad, ha ha.” Wally jested.
Ehhh…
“Are you almost finished with it, neighbour?”
“I wouldn’t say I’m finished, but I’m almost ready to give up, yes,” you grumbled, the bristles of your brush carefully swiping some more paint onto the canvas. Yikes! Not carefully enough, it seems.
Wally noticed your grimace, laughing lightly. “It’s going to look good, I know it,” he claimed.
“You’re easily pleased, though,” you huffed, eyes flickering to him in a half-hearted glare. He giggled, shaking his head.
“I am honest,” he grinned, raising his right hand to swear on it. “Cross my heart, always and forever,” he promised, drawing the ‘x’ over his chest with a happy smile.
“At least I think I did Home some justice,” you snickered with a shrug. “You, not so much, Wally. I think you can still tell it’s you, though?”
“I’m sure I look amazing. Handsome!”
“I wouldn’t use that word for it, but the real you is?” You offered.
“Why, you’ll make me blush.”
You laughed lightly as you continued to paint, Wally remaining as still as a statue in his chosen position in front of home. His eyes never left you.
He loved the expressions you made. He just adored the twitch of your brow when you don’t quite approve of a detail, the silly grimace you wear when you’ve made a ‘mistake’, the way your tongue poked out a little when you were extra focussed... You were so entrancing!
“... going to start being a bit less uptight now,”
Wally hadn’t caught the first part, but figured out what you were saying.
“I guess I should probably give myself a little more credit than I am.” A little smile tugged at the corner of your lips. Oh! He enjoyed that expression most!
“I’m happy you say that,” Wally said, “I do mean it when I say I believe I will like it. Everyone has their own unique style. It’s nothing less than that,” he added, “plus, it’s made by you. That gives it extra special points!”
“Special, alright,” you joked quietly to yourself. It was definitely a unique piece, your painting.
“I just need to remind myself I don’t have much experience with this,” you sighed, “I need to cut myself some slack. I know practice is necessary to be as good as someone like you at this, and I haven’t put much of that in,”
“And if you were ever interested in such, I would always be around to offer my help if you so desire,” Wally assured.
“Thanks, Wally,” you tore your eyes away from your work, looking over at him. “I appreciate you. Always so sweet to me,” you sighed out dramatically. Unfortunately, your gaze didn't stick on him long enough to notice the redness growing on his cheeks from your compliments.
“Alas, I think I’m all done now,” you giggled, stepping back from your work. Now that you look it over, it really wasn’t too shabby, especially with your limited skill!
Wally stood up from his spot, starting his way over, as you turned the easel around so that he and Home could both see it. When Wally was close enough, he leaned forward a little, examining the painted canvas. Despite the knowledge that Wally would never judge you, your nerves twisted a little in your stomach as you watched his eyes study it with such intensity.
It was silent. He’s observed it for at least a minute now, not a word said.
“I know it’s-”
“It’s wonderful,” Wally cut you off, straightening his posture, his smile growing. “The absolute most, as is its creator,” he added as he looked at you. “Can I have it?” he asked, head tipping to the side.
“You… Want it?” you giggled sheepishly, peering over at your goofy little creation. Was it really nice enough for him to want to keep it?
“I love it, so of course I would like to have it. If you allow me to, of course,”
Your painting wasn’t much. To you, at least. To Wally on the other hand, it truly was extravagant.
It was cute. He and Home were nicely depicted together, Home painted quite well, and in his opinion, he himself had not looked nearly as bad as you’d been letting on.
His face had a cute, simple little smiley on it, as did the sun in the sky, two silly little features among others that you had added when you decided not to care so much anymore. It made him giggle. Overall, it was just yours, and that’s what really sealed the deal on his love for it.
“Hmm… where should I hang it, though? Maybe by the couch?” He wondered aloud, tapping his chin. “What do you think, Home?” He turned to face it, receiving quick excited waves and squeaks from the door. “Ha ha. I think that, too.”
“You actually want it?” You questioned,
“Of course,” Wally nodded. “Oh no! How impolite of me. I should be offering some sort of payment,” he realized.
“For this?” You laughed, looking back at the artwork. “I dont think it’s worth a whole lo–”
“Mwah!”
Huh?
You gaped at Wally, hand on your flushed cheek, right where his lips had been moments prior.
“Will that do?” He smiled.
You could only stare in disbelief, mind working overtime to process what had just happened.
“Neighbour?”
You laughed. You laughed, and you shook your head, hands covering your face. Oh, those silly little thoughts of yours!
“Oh my goodness, Wally,” you snickered. “Be careful with that! Someone might take it the wrong way,” you warned, a little giggle following.
“What do you mean, neighbour?” Wally questioned, brows furrowed. “Is kissing not a good thing?”
“I mean, it is, but there's two ways it can be perceived: platonically, or romantically,” you explained, rubbing at your face in an attempt to get rid of your blush with a cheeky smile.
“Think of it like this. Eddie and Frank kiss as a way to show their romantic love for each other. That's because they’re a couple,” you continued. “Are they who you learned it from?”
Wally stared at you for a moment, trying to comprehend all that you’ve said. Finally, his shoulders slumped slightly as he answered.
“... Yes,” he admitted, a bashful smile on his features.
“I figured,” you sniggered. “I mean, I’m not saying I didn’t like it or anything, but just keep what I said in mind,” you joked lightly with a playful wink, “but, we should find a place for this painting, shouldn’t we?” You placed your hands on your hips, looking between him and the piece.
“That sounds like a good idea, neighbour,” he agreed, carefully picking up the dried painting, grabbing the easel in his other hand.
“Let’s do that, then,”
“So, how did it go?” Eddie asked, placing a toasty mug of hot cocoa in front of a sulking Wally. “Not that great, I presume..?” He smiled sympathetically.
“They said to ‘be careful’ because ‘someone might get the wrong idea’...” he gave a gloomy smile. “But they also said they ‘didn’t dislike’ it?” He offered.
“So they thought the right idea, but brushed it off as being wrong,” Frank snickered, shaking his head at the ridiculousness of the situation while he sipped on a mug of his own.
Eddie sighed, rubbing at the back of his neck with a chuckle. This was harder than the couple originally anticipated…
You two would be the death of this neighbourhood if you didn’t perceive your feelings for each other soon.
yyyello!! I hope you enjoyed reading this!
here is a link to my silly lil wally fics in their recommended order if you would like :) these can also be found on my ao3 B) I also have a ko-fi if you'd like to support me! likes and reblogs are very much so appreciated B) (again, gimme dopamine boost, RAHHHHH) until next time <3
Posted Tuesday, April 25, 2023 at 11:29 AM
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puppydoggraham · 2 months
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To write Hannibal fanfiction I swear you need 3 PhD’s, a grasp on several languages, an in depth understanding of the Bible, an ability to come up with insane metaphors that are intricate and convoluted but still make perfect sense, an unnaturally sophisticated vocabulary, a mental catalogue of all culinary stuff/art/scents/culture in general/geography and you have to seal the deal with the devil
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ziracona · 7 months
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I can’t include them all so here’s a combo of ‘came to mind first,’ ‘talked about positively most often by fans,’ and ‘stuck in my head’.
Public Apology Big Iron isn’t here. There were a lot that didn’t make the cut but that one specifically I stg I put in and only realized after posting had not. It was 100% meant to be on this list and I’ve failed us.
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bimbolita · 3 months
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I’m so glad everyone is having the same visceral reaction to episode 4 like I did. I thought I was being too sensitive but fucking no. It is painful. It is horrid. Knowing that this type of abuse actively happens to sex workers and those who are trafficked. It’s jarring because I didn’t expect to see this dark and explicit depiction in a cartoon that jokes about penises every 2 minutes. It’s like when light hearted coco melon shows start talking about death, it was just unexpected because I never took this show serious. I’m going to share more of my thoughts below! Trigger Warning: Mentions of SA ⚠️
I don’t think it’s my place to deny or confirm if the ‘poison’ scenes were fetishized, I personally believe it’s subjective. I know how I feel but I think no matter where you stand, you are right in your own way. Many things can be true at once. What we can all agree on, is that it was harsh. In a way, I hope the audience is able to understand how exploiting and non glamorous sex work is. There is nothing fun about having your body used multiple times a day by people you do not know and having said scenes recorded then plastered all over the media. Of course all forms of engaging in or creating adult content are different, I am specifically talking about sex workers who have no say or control over their bodies and finances. Like Angel. Let us put emphasis on WORK in sex work.
It is demanding. It is laborious It is scaring. Remember that and remember the unheard voices who must do this to simply survive.
There is a lot of criticism about angel’s personality and yes I agree it is annoying but you have to understand, it is a trauma response. Hypersexuality is a common trait among those who are sexually abused. Angel just outwardly expresses it all the time because it is all he knows. This thought process is the only way to tolerate his behavior. I say thought process because it is only an interpretation. It’s very obvious viv just adores writing sexed up characters with zero nuance or depth but let’s just pretend she can actually write male characters that think beyond their cock and balls. Let’s pretend that Angel Dust is a two dimensional character and not (grits teeth) fetish bait.
Now, let’s talk about Charlie. Alright great, she saw her friend being mistreated and was about to stand up to his abuser, ok good good. The victim (Angel) gets upset and wants her to leave because he was beaten. Yes, average response of someone who is an abusive relationship, he is afraid and wants to avoid more conflict between him and Val. The situation at hand couldn’t be more than obvious. How does Charlie respond? She cries. And not because she is frustratedly concerned for the safety of her friend. It is because he yelled and rejected all her poor attempts at helping. Charlie is weak as shit and I think that interaction was weirdly written. I wish she had the mental fortitude to understand how much danger Angel’s life was in at that moment. I cannot enjoy her ‘aggressive kindness’ cutie do no wrong baby girl type of character in a moment like that.
And I feel the same about Husk’s song. Out of all the responses you could’ve made, this is what made it to the final cut? Do better. I don’t care if I lack the mEdIa LiTeRaCy twitter keeps yapping about. It’s bad. You just showed a sexual assault montage and the rebuttal was basically “my uncle broke his neck tap dancing once :/“ lol we’re both losers and that’s ok, suck it up buttercup, I like you regardless. This was the best response to an SA victim? No degree in media literacy would ever help me think that was an acceptable response. I dunno about ya’ll but I major in common sense at the university of using my eyes and fucking ears. Now imagine, if that entire segment, when Husk and Angel are at the bar plus the musical number; imagine if all of that was placed BEFORE we see Angel and Val interact and then poison plays as the final song. It would be 10x more impactful because then the audience sees how deep and stuck Angel actually is. Trauma olympics is never acceptable but neither is trauma participation trophies. It is not right to make Husk’s issues be seen as the same as Angel’s issues. They are not the same and it is ok to acknowledge that Angel has it worst than Husk. It’d be more genuine if Husk were to just hug him in complete silence after dragging him out of the bar and have Angel tearfully embrace him back. The first non sexual and benevolent interaction between them. The first physical act of care with no ulterior motives of lust.
I grind my teeth at the wasted potential.
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forgetful-nerd · 3 months
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Ok I’m super excited for a possible tmnt crossover but there is something that has been bugging me….
How is 2012 Mikey doing that with his nunchucks?
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Like boy……that is not how physics works????
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How is he doing this?
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AND THEN THERES MICHELANGELO OVER HERE—JUST—DOING IT CORRECTLY?????
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Do the laws of PHYSICS not apply to 3D turtles?!
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