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dutchess-of-fear · 5 days
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It’s not much, but please allow me to bless your dashboard with a tiny Scarecrow playing in a pile of leaves. Hroo hraa!~ Wishing everyone a good October and a fantastic day. ;)
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dutchess-of-fear · 5 days
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I feel like you wouldn't be able to trust Hancock with your drink
Not because he'd put anything in it, but because he'd end up drinking it himself
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dutchess-of-fear · 6 days
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Ted asking the reader out on a date and they r both super shy
Babe In The Records
Ted Logan x FEM!Reader
SUMMARY // You work at the record shop in the Sam Dimas mall and Ted finally finds the courage to ask you out..
TW // Fluff, Short and Sweet..
ALL GIFS FROM PINTEREST
I agree with Ted.. ya'll are the most bodacious babes ever!!
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Oh God.. there you were, just going through and organizing the records and tapes, and all Ted could do was stare.. He swore you were a goddess. Ted had met you when you were cleaning in the record store and he had bumped into you, quite literally.
The first time you met, Ted was literally running into the store, desperate to get a hold on the last Van Halen record before someone else did. Needless to say, he had mistook you for a buyer as you reached for the record and tackled you to the ground to reach it before you.. You were not impressed. You quickly explained to him that you were just moving it and that you worked at the record store. He felt pretty stupid after you told him that, bought the Van Halen record and quickly got out before he embarrassed himself more in front of you.
Ever since that first meeting, he's been wanting so desperately to make it up to you, and has tried to ask you out multiple times, but each time, he chickens out at the last moment.
But not today, oh no! Today is the day that he's gonna do it! (Though he tells himself this every time and never does..)
"Hey, dude! How's it hangin'!?" Ted asks cheerfully, bounding up to you like a golden retriever puppy.
You jump slightly, not expecting anyone to talk to you. You look up and see Ted, a big goofy smile on his adorably handsome face. You sigh and smile back. His cheerful self always made your day so much better..
"Today's been slow, but that's better than totally packed, I guess," you reply with a small smile, a tint of a blush running across your face, "but what about you, Ted? How're you?"
"Better now that I'm in the presence of a totally bodacious babe," Ted grins, but dies on the inside. Why did he say that's, she's gonna think he's weird, everyone does!
You laugh and blush, bashfully looking down, suddenly interested in the sneakers on your feet and smiling stupidly.
"Aww.. that's sweet Ted, but you don't have to butter me up, you know I have a soft spot for you. So, what do you need?" You ask, placing a hand on your hip, waiting for a request from him.
"W-would you like to, uh.." Ted trails off, blushing wildly, looking everywhere but at you. He shuffles a bit and takes a deep breath before speaking again.
"Would you wanna go and get a cheese pretzel with me some time..?" Ted asks shyly, his cheeks a bright red in embarrassment.
A huge smile forms on your lips, and you nod, excitement rushing through your body, your brain and heart both screaming at you to say something.
"Yeah! Yes, I'd love to Ted!" You bounce on the balls of your feet happily.
Ted's eyes light up at your response and does the biggest air guitar gesture of his entire life, so happy that you didn't reject him.
After he stops doing air guitar, he takes your hands in his, squeezing them lightly.
"Okay! Next time you're free, we'll go and get a cheese pretzel together, and we could chill at my house after and listen to some wicked tunes, yeah?" Ted says all in one breath, the doofy smile on his face never ceasing.
"That sounds awesome, Ted. I'm free on Saturday, okay?" You laugh at his enthusiasm. Not to make fun of him, but in pure unadulterated joy.
"Excellent! Meet me back here at the mall and we'll have the most excellent time, Babe!" He gives you a quick, sweet kiss on the cheek before running off back home to plan more for your totally wicked date.
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dutchess-of-fear · 9 days
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happy death appreciation week!
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dutchess-of-fear · 13 days
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Scarecrow
Psychologist Dr. Jonathan Crane’s obsession with fear led to him terrorising patients. A master chemist, Crane would combine acts of psychological terror with exposure to a powerful hallucinogenic compound he called his Fear Toxin. Nearly mauled to death by Killer Croc in the sewers beneath Arkham Asylum, Dr. Jonathan Crane has returned to Gotham, surgically reconstructing his scarred visage into a new, terrifying face.
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dutchess-of-fear · 13 days
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I can't 🤣🤣
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Scarecrow’s thugs in Batman Brave and the Bold be like
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dutchess-of-fear · 15 days
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This is such a cute and fluffy story of our Jonathan Crane 🥰🥰🥰
You're the Cream in My Coffee
author's note: i love this fear-crazy man as much as i love coffee! 🥹 i can't imagine him drinking straight-up black coffee despite his personality because i imagine that he so secretly has a slight sweet tooth but in a refined crane kind of way - like with sweet cold foam or milk. anyway, please enjoy you guys!
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It was a quiet morning at Arkham. As you made your way to your office, you couldn't help but glance with curiosity down the hall towards Dr. Jonathan Crane's door. The reserved but brilliant fellow psychologist was often the first one in the building, working tirelessly on his research and case files.
You had always admired Jonathan's sharp wit and keen intellect. Most of your colleagues steered clear of him as they found him distant and aloof. Nevertheless, he had always shown you polite courtesy. There was something about his dry sense of humor and the way his sharp blue eyes would crinkle slightly when he was amused that had captured your attention.
On this particular morning, you had woken up exceptionally early to lend a visit to your favorite coffee shop. And as you were ordering your usual drink, you thought of Dr. Crane and how hardworking he was. You had noted the dark circles that were often under his eyes and how he was usually the last to leave Arkham for the day. He looked thinner every time you saw him and you wondered if he was even eating. Before you could even process your actions, you had ordered another coffee, picking one on a whim based off of Jonathan's taste: a dark roast with hints of cinnamon and a dash of cream.
And how did you know he would like it? Well, you couldn't be blamed if you had noticed him once or twice in the staff room - on the rare occasion that he ventured out of his office to reluctantly grab the hospital's rat-poison-flavored coffee. You'd noticed the way he would wrinkle his nose in distaste at the acrid, burnt flavor of the breakroom coffee, quickly sprinkling a dash of cinnamon from a small tin he kept in his pocket to improve the taste.
It was those small details - the way he would linger over each sip, savoring the subtle warmth and spice - that had given you insight into his refined palate. And when you had the chance to bring him his morning coffee, you knew you had to do something special, something that would truly please him.
You thought he deserved something nice. You couldn't help but feel a twinge of sympathy for Jonathan, knowing that your colleagues often spoke unkindly of him behind his back. The other psychologists at Arkham would whisper and snicker, casting judgmental glances in his direction as he hurried through the halls, his brow furrowed in concentration.
It saddened you to see the way they dismissed him, writing him off as nothing more than a cold, calculating eccentric. If only they could see the subtle nuances of his character, the flashes of dry wit and intellectual curiosity that you had come to admire.
You suspected that Jonathan was a deeply lonely man, so consumed by his work and his research that he had allowed the barriers around his heart to harden over time. And you couldn't help but wonder if, deep down, he craved the kind of genuine connection and understanding that so many of his peers seemed to take for granted.
That's why you had put so much thought into selecting the perfect coffee for him. You wanted him to know that there was at least one person at Arkham who saw him as more than just an oddity, more than just a means to an end. You wanted him to feel appreciated, to know that someone truly cared.
As you made your way to Jonathan's office, mug in hand, you couldn't help but feel a sense of nervousness. It wasn't exactly typical for a colleague to be bringing another coffee, especially one as reserved and enigmatic as Dr. Jonathan Crane. You knew you'd have to have a good excuse ready if he questioned your gesture.
Thankfully, inspiration struck as you neared his door. Earlier that morning, you had noticed the coffee maker in the staff break room was acting up again, only producing a weak, watered-down brew. Jonathan, being the devoted workaholic that he was, had likely missed his usual morning cup in his rush to get an early start.
You knocked on his office door, which was slightly ajar, "Good morning, Dr. Crane."
Jonathan looked up with brief surprise crossing his face, his eyebrows raised, before he quickly schooled his features into a more neutral and collected expression. He greeted you, his voice low and slightly raspy from lack of sleep, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
You offered him the coffee, feeling a flutter of nervousness in your stomach. "I- um... The coffee machine has been acting up lately, so I brought you a fresh cup. It's probably better than the dreadful coffee they offer here anyway. I hope that's alright."
Jonathan eyed the mug skeptically, but after a moment's hesitation, he reached out and took it from your hand, his fingers brushing against yours ever so slightly. "That's...very kind of you," he said, his brow furrowing slightly as he studied the contents of the cup.
You felt your heart skip a beat at the brief contact, but you tried your best to maintain a casual demeanor. "I know how important that first cup of coffee is, especially for someone as dedicated as you," you replied, offering him a small, hopefully reassuring smile.
His piercing blue eyes studied you for a moment, and you couldn't help but feel as though he was trying to read your thoughts.
You held your breath as Jonathan took a cautious sip, his gaze never leaving yours. For a moment, the silence hung heavy in the air, broken only by the soft sound of rain tapping against the windowpane.
Then, to your relief and delight, a faint smile tugged at the corners of Jonathan's lips. "It's...quite good," he admitted, his tone almost surprised.
A rush of warmth flooded through you at his words. You had hoped he would enjoy it, but hearing his genuine approval was more than you could have asked for.
"I'm glad you like it," you replied, unable to contain the smile that spread across your face. "I know it's not much, but I thought you deserved something better than the usual."
Jonathan's eyes softened as he met your gaze, a flicker of gratitude shining in their depths. "Thank you," he said simply, his voice carrying a warmth that sent a shiver down your spine.
With a nod of acknowledgment, you turned to leave, feeling a wave of accomplishment wash over you. You sensed that this would be the beginning of many more interactions with Jonathan Crane.
~
Over the next few weeks, it became routine for you to bring Jonathan his favorite coffee whenever you could, even if it meant waking up a bit earlier to make it to work. It was worth it to see a lovely smile grace his face, his entire lighting up youthfully. Gradually, the two of you began to exchange brief conversations in the hallway or during breaks.
You learned more about Jonathan than you ever imagined you would. He shared stories of his childhood - some being precious and others proving more saddening. He spoke about his love for literature and philosophy and his interest in the intricacies of the human mind. You found yourself drawn to his sharp intellect and dry wit.
Some of his casual sarcastic remarks and mutterings to himself had you practically crying with laughter, causing your colleagues to stare at you as if you were a madwoman if they happened to be nearby. After discovering how easily he could make you laugh, Jonathan began using your weakness to your advantage and making you giggle in the most serious of situations.
He had such a surprising humor to him that had only come out by spending more time with him the softness that peeked through his carefully composed exterior. You noticed other things about him too - little details that slowly painted a fuller picture of who Jonathan truly was. The manner in which his eyes would light up with a rare, genuine passion as he discussed the latest developments in psychology. The subtle way his hands would run unusually cold, a telltale sign of his underlying tension and nervousness. The habit of running his fingers through his dark hair when he was deep in thought, brow furrowed in concentration.
And then, of course, there were the moments of softness, the flashes of vulnerability that would occasionally peek through the carefully composed exterior he presented to the world. The slight crinkle at the corners of his eyes when he was truly amused by one of your witty exchanges. The gentle tone that would creep into his voice when he spoke of his favorite books or theories. It was in those unguarded instants that you caught glimpses of who the man truly was.
And there were moments when you began to realize that your fascination with him wasn't one-sided. Jonathan too asked about you and your life. He chuckled at your embarrassing stories and frowned when you mentioned the rougher parts of your childhood. He had an aptitude for listening and for giving sound advice, which made you realize just how incredible he was at what he did for a living.
But something more began to grow between the two of you. You felt an undeniable pull towards him that had only grown since that first step, that first cup of coffee. And sometimes, you felt the heaviness of his gaze mixed with an indescribable emotion. Whatever feeling it was behind his eyes - well, you wanted him to stare at you like that forever.
You had grown accustomed to the quiet camaraderie that had developed between you and Jonathan over the past few weeks. Your daily coffee deliveries had become a cherished ritual, and the easy banter you shared had slowly chipped away at the icy facade he so often presented to the world.
But today, as you made your way through the halls of Arkham, you couldn't help but overhear a hushed conversation between a few of your colleagues. Their words, laced with barely concealed disdain, filled you with unease.
"Can you believe that she brings Crane coffee every morning?" one of them scoffed. "As if he's not weird enough already."
Another chimed in, a malicious glint in her eyes. "Yeah, and have you noticed how much time she's been spending with him lately? Probably trying to whore herself off to get a promotion."
You felt your cheeks flush with hurt and embarrassment, your heart sinking. Was that really what they all thought of you? That you were simply using Jonathan for your own personal gain? That you weren't genuine about your desire for his friendship?
The discussion continued, the gossip growing more and more vicious until you couldn't bear it anymore. You felt tears creeping out of your eyes as you stalked down the halls and back to your office, avoiding every glance that came your way. You shut the door behind you, making your way directly to the small couch in your office and pulling a soft blanket around your trembling shoulders as the tears finally spilled over. The cruel words of your colleagues kept echoing in your mind, each barb cutting deeper than the last.
How could these colleagues of yours, who had faked their pleasantries with you and occasionally even asked you about your day, be so two-faced? How could they think so little of you? Of the genuine friendship you had forged with Jonathan? The time you had spent getting to know him, the way your heart raced whenever he fixed you with that piercing gaze - it was all so much more than some cheap ploy for favor or advancement.
You cared for Jonathan, more than you knew how to express. The warmth of his smile, the subtle softness that would sometimes peek through his carefully crafted facade - it had all wormed its way deep into your heart. And the thought of anyone diminishing those precious moments you shared cut you to the core.
As you sat there, your vision blurred by tears, you didn't hear the familiar knock at your door. It wasn't until you sensed a presence beside you that you looked up, your breath catching in your throat at the sight of Jonathan wearing a concerned expression.
"My dear, what's wrong?" he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he moved to sit beside you.
You couldn’t find the strength in you to respond, tears continuing to streak down your cheeks. Something in Jonathan's heart broke for you, and he placed a gentle arm around you, pulling you into a comforting embrace.
"It's alright." He spoke in a soothing, gentle tone, his fingertips lightly stroking your arm in a comforting gesture, "I'm here."
Jonathan waited for your sobs to subside and then carefully cradled your face, using his thumb to wipe away the remaining tears, "Tell me, what happened?" His brow furrowed with concern as he searched your face, waiting for you to find the right words.
Your breath was shaky, gaze falling as you recounted the gossip you had heard, "I-I was bringing you coffee - you know, like usual. But then I heard some of the others talking and..." You paused and Jonathan's expression darkened as he listened, his jaw tightening with barely contained anger.
"Some of the others talking, saying such horrible things. About how I'm only doing it to try and get ahead, that I'm..." Anger took over you as you utter the last part, "whoring myself off."
Jonathan practically gritted his teeth in anger at that. It was one thing for him to have to deal with the constant remarks and bullying in his life. By now, he was used to it - until that changed when he met you. But for you to be dragged into this, to be treated so horribly. He wouldn't stand for it.
"My dear, why on Earth would you put yourself through this for my sake?" His piercing blue eyes studied you intently, a hint of exasperation in his tone, "After all, I'm hardly worth the trouble, am I?" There was a self-deprecating edge to his words, like he truly believed he wasn't worth the effort.
Jonathan sighed, a flicker of vulnerability crossing his features, "You shouldn't have to defend me, nor should you have to endure the cruelty of our colleagues. I'm quite accustomed to their...less than pleasant opinions of me." A wry, humorless smile tuggeed at the corners of his lips.
He pauses, his fingers gently brushing against your cheek as he meets your confused gaze. You didn't understand how he failed to see how incredible he actually was. You hesitated, murmuring, "They're wrong, you know. You're a wonderful friend and they just don't see that."
Jonathan's eyes widened but he hid his surprise with a soft smile, "Oh? Well I'm truly touched. I find your unwavering loyalty quite endearing."
You blushed as his expression turned impish, a playful glint in his eyes as he leaned in closer, scrutinizing your words, "And friends, you say?"
You felt your cheeks flush with embarrassment as you nodded hesitantly. "Yes, I...I consider you my closest friend here, Jonathan." The admission slipped out before you could stop it, and you suddenly felt caught.
Jonathan's expression turned thoughtful, a hint of amusement playing on his lips. "Is that so?" He paused, his piercing gaze studying you intently. "Then how do you explain the time you fell asleep on my shoulder in my office?" His tone was lightly teasing, a subtle smirk tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Or that time we shared a cup of coffee, our lips mere inches apart?"
Your face reddened more and more as you tried to figure out a response. "T-that was just...I mean, it was only once! And the coffee, I just...I wanted to make sure you got the right order, that's all!"
Jonathan chuckled, clearly delighted by your flustered state. "Hmm, I see. And what about the fact that you knew exactly how I take my coffee from the very start? Cinnamon and all?" His fingers graze your cheek, leaving you to only want more of his touch. "Surely that goes beyond the realm of mere friendship, don't you think?"
He leaned in even closer, tilting his head with mock admonishment, his gaze flicking down to your lips for the briefest of moments. "And let's not forget that time I caught you...unbeknownst to you, of course...staring at my..."
You can't help but cut him off, your heart racing. "Alright, alright! I admit it, Jonathan. I...I've developed feelings for you. More than just friendship." You averted your gaze, suddenly feeling rather vulnerable. He noticed the fear on your face, which he would have taken pleasure in if you weren't you.
Jonathan's expression softened, and he reached out to gently tilt your chin up, meeting your eyes. "My dear, I don't doubt the sincerity of your affection." His voice was low and intimate. "And frankly, I'm quite flattered." He leaned in, his breath ghosting across your lips. "So tell me, is it still 'just friends' you want?"
"No?"
A subtle smile made its way onto his lips, and you couldn't help but feel a flutter of anticipation in your chest. "Is that a question?" His thumb traced the outline of your mouth.
"No. I mean - yes. Argh, I-"
He chuckled at your struggle to speak, his lips grazing your ear as he murmured, "Am I making you nervous?"
You narrowed your eyes at him briefly, aware that he was taunting you, and whispered, "Yes." You didn't think you'd ever been this close to Jonathan. You noticed that his eyes have grey specks in them.
"Hm. Well, then...Tell me what it is that you truly want?"
The intensity of his gaze was almost overwhelming, making it difficult for you to think clearly. You found yourself captivated by the depth of emotion within his eyes.
"I want..." You swallowed hard, your heart racing as you leaned in closer, his nose brushing yours and lips millimeters apart. Jonathan leaned back ever so slightly upon your pause. He was teasing you, eager for you to work for his touch. His hand moved down to trace the edge of your collarbone, giving you chills.
His pupils darkening, he murmured, "Say it."
You notice the bare anticipation and hunger in his gaze, but he also still had that same mischief about him. Unable to hold back your desire, you whispered, "I want you, Jonathan." Your voice was laced with a quiet intensity. "Your mind, your touch, your affection. All of you."
The words set off a proper reaction in him, and in one swift motion, he closed the distance between you, his lips crashing against yours in a desperate kiss.
You gasped softly, the sensation of his mouth moving hungrily against yours setting your nerves on fire. Without breaking the kiss, Jonathan gently guided you backward, and you sunk down onto the couch as he hovered over you, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other keeping him upright.
In the halls, you had always noticed the musk of his cologne and the distinct smell of the spice he craved so dearly. Naturally, he tasted like cinnamon and his kiss was sweeter than you could have ever imagined.
He bit your lip and you allowed his tongue entrance into your mouth. Your fingers thread through his dark hair, pulling him closer, needing to feel all of him.
As you pulled his hips closer to yours, you could feel a hardness press on you. Jonathan groaned as you moved against him. You could stay like this forever, under him as he kissed you senselessly.
Eventually, you parted, both of you breathless and flushed. Jonathan gazed down at you, his eyes dark with desire. His thumb brushed against your swollen lips, a blazing look in his eyes.
"You truly are a marvel, my dear. Ignore what nonsense anyone else says," he murmurs, his voice rough with emotion. He dips his head, nuzzling against your neck, his lips trailing featherlight kisses along your skin. "You are the cream in my coffee. You make my life sweeter. I hope to only bring you that same joy."
You softened immensely at his words. His arms wrapped around you, holding you close as he continued his gentle assault, intent on exploring every possible inch of you, his keen eyes noticed your little reactions to his touch. And you didn't mind one bit. You craved him. To think this had all simply started with a sweet cup of coffee...
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@kpopgirlbtssvt @kiss-me-cill-me @mothhball hope you guys enjoy!
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dutchess-of-fear · 18 days
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I have never thought of it that way 😆😆😆
If we think about it; Father Damien Karras was the first person to get nickelodeon slimed
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dutchess-of-fear · 19 days
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dutchess-of-fear · 28 days
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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that's a chipper lad
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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Flight of the Fallen: An Eric Draven inspired playlist
"If the people we love are stolen from us, the way to have them live on is to never stop loving them. Buildings burn, people die, but real love is forever."
- A Grave Mistake (Ice Nine Kills)
("You can't save yourself or save your soul, when you meet the man whose life you stole")
- The Vengeful One (Disturbed)
("So sleep soundly in your beds tonight, for judgement falls upon you at first light")
- Eternally Yours (Motionless in White)
("So tell me your secrets, and join me in pieces, to rot in this garden made of stones, eternally yours")
- Life Eternal (Ghost)
("Can you hear me say your name forever? Can you see me longing for you forever? Would you let me touch your soul forever?")
- Dance with the Devil (Breaking Benjamin)
("Say goodbye, as we dance with the devil tonight, don't you dare look at him in the eye")
& more!
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I've got some new cosplay stuff coming soon I promise but in the meantime here's an attempt at a character playlist for another one of my 2024 planned cosplans!
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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Itward board with a darker color scheme!
- Mod Primarina + Mod Spamton.
((Sources of gifs: x, x, x | x, x, x | x, x, x ))
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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dutchess-of-fear · 1 month
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Beyond the entire commentary that could be made about remaking iconic movies is beyond pointless and disappointing and show a lack of creativity and risk-taking from hollywood executives – did they have to literally obliterate the crow entire aesthetic and identity through goth subculture and make eric draven look like some eboy male manipulator or was it just for funsies ?
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