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greenglowinspooks · 6 months

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(DCxDP) The obligations of a rogue versus those of a parent (Pt. 4)

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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)

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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.

—

#dcxdp #dc x dp #dp x dc #dpxdc #dp x dc crossover #dc x dp fic #liminal scarecrow #Jon’s PTSD is triggered by the smell of ectoplasm because his life is a nightmare #HDJFNDNDNFKDJF #I am the master of emotional whiplash #rip Jon just trying to have some peace in this fucking house #never gonna happen king 🫡#oh also Eddie is not lying that bat can manwhore #and like half the rogues in Gotham know this from experience #and also most of the JL #and some of JL dark #btw Eddie and Jon are besties #they’re both awful but they make it work #when Jon full-names Eddie that just means that if he doesn’t stop whatever he’s doing he’s gonna get a dose of fear toxin #Eddie isn’t intimidating enough to full-name anyone so if he gets mad he just bashes whoever in the head with his cane #Jon is the living embodiment of ‘me and my girl don’t argue she bash me in the head with a rock and I walk it off like a man’#also side note I’m not doing any ships in this #because I don’t want to #they are just Like That #if you wanna read it that way though it’s completely fine #also shoutout 2 that one scriddler fic on ao3 that helped inspire that riddle LMAO

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choctalksalot · 5 months

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a dirk jake? how will dirk get ajake . now

#choc draws #homestuck #hom3stuck #dirkjake #dirk strider #jake english #comic #cw guns #<- it’s jake this tag is redundant but i’m fond of it like a spider that frequently crawls on my shelf #cw mild gore #cw violence #dooon’t you love me baby woohohon’t you kill me like you do won’t you rip me rend me apart #make me your bloodiest work of art #3 points to whoever guesses what awful medium this was done in oh homestuck o’clock!!

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time-slink · 8 months

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kept drawing joel and grian looking the same so trying to work on that ;v;

#slinky’s sketches #smallishbeans #grian #inspired by their latest vids ofc #‘hm what would a fusion of these two look like? oh shit i draw them the same huh’#take these with a grain of salt btw i have. not been flipping the canvas i’m just trying to figure out the differences #i actually really need this kinda reference for myself because i’m a smidge faceblind rip #couldn’t accurately describe my own mothers face if i tried #anyone reading the tags: do you like seeing the less technically impressive process stuff like this?#i often have stuff i’m sitting on that i could post #if anyone was curious enough

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smilesrobotlover · 6 months

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The dads being cute with their lovers (sorta)

I hc that Rito kiss each other by touching the top of their beaks to something (their beaks aren’t touching but that’s just cuz I can’t draw 💀💀) so they’re doing a lil Rito kiss <3 I WISH we had more of them man.

#rip Leon and Talon they’re wives are dead :c #Linebeck and Jolene’s relationship is… complicated #Sarah is helping Ammon deal with phantom pains #she has a very calm demeanor and it’s nice to him #helps him relax when he’s overwhelmed #Uli and Rusl try not to be cute challenge #when Faima shrinks she looks like a regular Hylian with great fairy clothes #but when she’s big she has her pink hair #strangers across eras #if you put all of them together you have the wives #the exes #then you have the daughter which is Malon #and then you have Leon’s one friend Valensuela #oh Kass #gonna do a minor totk spoiler so stop reading now #problem with writing Kass is that I’m growing attached to him which sucks cuz he got frickin sniped in totk #like COME ON I MIS HIM WHERE IS HE

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coconut530 · 4 months

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BITTERSWEET REUNIONS

#Nevermore #Nevermore Webtoon #Webtoon #WOW WHAT A RETURN!! I KNOW THE HIATUS WASN’T THAT LONG BUT DAMNNNNN!!! ALSO RIP TO OUR 5 COIN STATUS #ANYWAY MORELLA SNAPPING ADA BACK.. IT’S SO CRAZY HOW HER PARTICLES WERE ALL OVER THE ROOM #CAN SPECTRES LIKE UPGRADE THEIR POWERS BC IT LOOKS LIKE ADA DID THAT #WILL BBY SORRY FOR CHOKING YOU AND DAMNNNNNN LENORE FOR FORCING HIM OFF AND TELLING 👏🏼 HIM 👏🏼 OFF 👏🏼 GODDAMN LOVED THAT #AND THEN ADA AND MORELLA FIGHTING!! MORELLA SHOUTING IS AMAZING! AND IT NEVER OCCURED TO ME THAT ADA DEFLECTS HER BLAME IT’S CRAZY #SICK OF PLAYING WITH PHONIES!! EPISODE 7!!! CALLBACKS!! AND NOW MORELLA COME TO THE MISFITS FULL TIME PLZZZZZ #OOP DUKE YOU GOOD? OK OH UH YEAH IT’S BEEN A BIT WITH YOUR SPECTRE ALSO UR POWERS MADE ADA GO OUT OF CONTROL SO 😬#GIVING HIM HIS JACKET AAAAAAA! THE COIN AAAA! EULALIE AAAAAAAA! DUKE CATCHING HER AAAAAAAAAA! PLUTO BLUSHING AAAAAAAAAA!#WELCOME TO ANOTHER EP OF EULA’S AMAZING FACTS #BERENICE! GROUP HUG!!! THEY’RE ALL SO WHOLESOME I CAN’T I’M SO GLAD THEY’RE ALL TOGETHER AGAIN! BACK AND BETTER THAN EVER!#wait just realizing something did duke’s spectre heal his bruises? interesting #PUT ME BACK IN THE WALL HAHAHAHAHA #And the two of them scoping out the mess #YESSSSS YOU GOTTA BEG SIR! BEG FOR YOUR PLACE AND YOUR LIFE! REAL TEST OF -FAITH- LIKE THE LAST EP ALMOST #DAMN WE BACK EVERYONE SO EXCITED TO MAYYYYBE FINISH OFF THE SEASON??? IDK WHERE WE GO FROM HERE I ASSUME EP. 100 #BUT YEAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

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bleue-flora · 1 month

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i didn't remenber cdream had a parrot. Now o need to rewatch. Cdream has a curse or something bc why alll his pets die or are killed

Yea… for real. And most of them have really tragic and strange deaths. :’( It’s no wonder he has such attachment issues, only furthered by the death of his horse then later endangerment of his friends and blackmail…

Here’s the link to the parrot stream

Time stamp for finding the parrot: 2:23:21

Time stamp for the death of the parrot: 3:18:02

Here’s the link to the memorial (which I actually mentioned in my recent Dreamcatcher blooper)

Though to truly understand how tragic it is you should watch the whole section of the stream where he has his parrot, because he really goes through so much trouble to bring the parrot (and Spirit) back home with him.

“I loved him like a son he was a like father to me.” — Dream —

#that is a real quote from his stream btw lol promise I’m not crazy he just screwed up and it doesn’t make sense XD #hope you enjoy my memorial collage :( … included some picture of what the parrot looks like in real life for comparison…#I headcanon that Dream has some of his parrot feather tied in his hair which is show is the art on the left #they didn’t look right in the Dream picture so I’ll just put them here… <3 #welp always glad to be of service in giving you another reason to sympathize and cry for Dream… lol XD #rip parrot #rip spirit #let’s all just take a moment to remember the parrot… <3 #oh and spirit truly tragic… the start of it all… ;)#hello there #<3 <3 <3 #dishing up lore #this is fine #*crys*#c!dream #dsmp #dreblr #dream smp #no one does it like c!dream #he didn’t even name it :(#dsmp lore #dsmpblr #dsmp dream

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sylvies-chen · 7 months

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please tell me someone understands this joke

#stede’s classic ‘don’t die id!’ and ed’s underwater in purgatory which is literally happening in his subconscious… oh it was too good #like I’M SO FUNNY FOR THIS I SWEAR #I’ve been laughing at my own joke for ten minutes now #rip freud you would have loved edward teach #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 #ed teach #edward teach #stede bonnet #gentlebeard

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wundrousarts · 2 months

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For any Nevermoor fans that've ever been interested in getting their hands on the UK hardcover editions of the series, with the wonderful cover designs..... I think they might be out of print (which. makes sense with the gold foil) so. goodluck and godspeed for finding them secondhand, because it was surprisingly hard to do online.

#nevermoor #full disclosure I discovered this like a month ago but wanted to wait until all of mine arrived correctly to share just in case 🫣🫣🫣#I was terrified they’d send paperbacks or non-UK editions instead lol #I now have three sets of first three books. mental illness. can silverborn come out already 😭😭😭#afaik the wundersmiths are still in stock officially just based on some wording the supply is dwindling lol #got nevermoor and wundersmith in the mail the other day as I posted about. 😁.#hollowpox arrived today from a different seller and with less damage from the transit but oh well #bc one seller had 1 and 2 while another had 3. 🤷😔 lol #they do seem to be in stock signed! normally + used but I didn’t want that bc I think the neon plain sprayed edges are soooo ugly I’m sorry #also I’d love to get my books signed personally one day. all….. nine and counting of them…… lolllll….#I have the american hollowpox signed bc I got it thru the owlcrate box which was fun!#RIP to chances of a silverborn box though now that owlcrate jr is discontinued 😭😭😭

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gojoest · 8 months

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ok so it’s the second time this week that i’ve been asked out for a drink AJAKAHAKA this time it was a stranger that stopped me in the middle of the street to compliment my dress and then walked me to my bus stop and we talked super casually and somehow he managed to convince me to give him my number rip 💀 he’s from sweden btw and is visiting shortly like for 10ish days or so and maybe we will meet again just maybe stay tuned

#— ai rambles #he was handsome and very polite btw #he tried to ask me to join him for a drink right now but i was like NO i’m tired LMAO #and he was like oh a long work day? it’s understandable #and i was like oh my 🫦#pls why is it so hot when men respect your boundaries #i think this is what made me cave and give him my number #rip

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simcardiac-arrested · 7 months

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compensation :-]

CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME

#YELLING AND SCREAMING AND COUGHING AND SHITTING MYSELF OVE RTHIS #OH MY GODDD #HEEELEP HELP MEEEEE #FUCKING HEEEEEEELPPPP HHHHEEELPP #RAT. RAT. YOU’D BE A RAT. RAT. I THINK YOU’D BE A RAT. I THINK I’D BE A WOLF.#KING OF THE JUNJLE- THE JUNJLE #AUEHGGHHHHH #RIPPING MY HAIR OUT #WHAT ARE YOU ODING TO ME #LORD PLEASE IM ONLY 9 I WAS JUST BORN I WAS JUST PUT ON THIS EARTH IM SERIOUS #AAAAOEUGGHHHH #OF COURSE IT GOES WITHOUT SAYING THAT I AM HOPELESSLY DEPENDENT ON THE INGOT .#pleaas. what. wgat. what di you mean compensation i have a Bomb strapped to my back #Like i’m actually so sick of you #writing tags isnt enough i need to liquify this drawing and inject it into my veins #I LOVE IT SO BAD SERIOUS ART FROM ONE OF MY FAV ARTISTS LIKE DAMNNN OK I GUESS IMMA JUST NEVER BE NORMAL AGAIN #A WAYBACK AND A SLINKY ARE AN ANIMAL THAT ARE SO CUTES #FUCK ME THEY ARE BOTH SO FRIENDSHAPED I CANT TAKE ITTTTT AND YOU DREW HIS HALO AHHH #HEEELP HELPP MEEEE SOMEBODYYY ANYBODYYYYYYYY ANYBODY HEEEEELP #cramswering #is for me tag #oc: no way back #oc: slinky #ultimate fav #NEEDED TO ADD ALL THE TAGS BEFORE I RAN OUT LIKE A MADMAN. AUEHGGHHHH MY GOD YKU DREW THEM BOTH SO WELL IM RIPPING MYSELF APART #LIKE THIS IS NOT OK. NOT OK. DO U HEAR ME ? U CANT DO THIS TO ME. IM JUST A LITTLE GUY SERIOUS #SERIOUSSS GET OUT OF MY HEAD #AHHHH EVEYRTIMR I CLOSE THE TAGS TO GO LOOK AT IT AGAIN IT’S LIKE I GET BRAINBLASTED WITH AUTISM #IM NEVER GOING ON TUMBLR AGAIN SIMCARDIAC-ARRESTED WAS A SOCIAL EXPERIMENT THANKS EVERYONE #falls to the ground. starts digging the soil with my hands and then goes and lies there

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tahdashi · 2 years

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1:34 AM

gn!reader x oikawa. best friends to lovers, alcohol consumption, only one bed!

when you first invited tooru to your co-worker’s wedding, you told him you’d strictly be going as friends — just friends and nothing more. truthfully, you could’ve gone by yourself, but the thought of celebrating love alone left a foul taste in your mouth and a growing pit in your stomach. and when you brought up the idea to your best friend, he seemed excited to get dressed up and dance the night away on the dance floor.

but here you are now with tooru’s arm hooked around your shoulder as he whines about how much his feet hurt, hiccups rhythmically leaving his pink lips.

“maybe you shouldn’t have had so much champagne then, dumbass,” you whine, dragging his body towards the hotel room he booked weeks in advance. he responds with a groan, pulling the room key out of his jacket pocket to unlock the door.

you carry him to the bed — the only bed — and toss him haphazardly onto the cushiony mattress. he’s looking up at the ceiling with crimson cheeks and a giggle bubbling in his throat.

“what in the world is this,” you ask him, walking over to obstruct his view of the bland ceiling. he simply looks over at you and then beckons for you to lie down next to him.

“i’m not gonna sleep in the same bed as you, tooru! you’re drunk,” you rake your hands through your hair, and the frustration on your face brings tooru to a seat.

“‘m not drunk, i just,” he hiccups again, then continues. “i just had a lot of fun tonight.”

and you have to admit — it was nice to see tooru let loose a little bit tonight. he wasn’t worrying about his next game, or training, or even his team. he was there with you, with his warm hands on your waist as you danced to the vivacious music. even though his fingers found a home on your lower back, you couldn’t help but feel the lines blur a little bit — the ones that separated platonic from romantic, the ones that changed the meaning of his past “i love you”’s. because even though you knew he was an affectionate drunk, he was only affectionate with you (and perhaps he only felt comfortable getting drunk around you, not that you mind. taking care of him was like second nature to you).

a soft sigh leaves your lips, and you’re taking your shoes off before helping tooru’s with his. you climb into bed with him.

“just so you know, we’re putting a pillow in the middle. i don’t wanna smell your stinky breath in the morning,” you tell him with a playful glint in your voice. he looks back at you with his mouth forming an ‘o’.

“my breath never stinks. you just don’t wanna be near me because we both know you’re clingy as fuck,” he laughs as you aggressively pat down the pillow between you two, as if your movements would make it stick in place.

“you’re the clingy one! you wouldn’t even let me dance by myself!”

“who dances alone at a wedding?”

“i could’ve if i didn’t bring you,” you stick your tongue out at him and his cheeks rise in a smile.

“why’d you bring me then, hm?”

silence fills the room. he thinks about how lucky he is to be able to lay here with you, rosy cheeks and all. and maybe he is a little drunk, or maybe the timing just feels right. so he slowly lifts up the pillow between you two and places it behind him. his body shifts closer to yours, and you can feel your insides burning up because of the distance.

“is it because you wanted to see me in a suit?” he shifts closer to you. you can smell the alcohol on his breath, but you don’t hate it. “or maybe you just wanted to dance with me?”

his eyes drill into yours, those chocolate hues occupying your mind. you hate the way he’s smiling. you hate the way that you can feel the heat radiating off his body. you hate that he hasn’t closed the gap between you two.

you don’t respond — you can’t. tooru’s hand finds that place on your lower back again, and you’re reminded of how his body was swaying against yours on the dance floor. his fingers are warm like the rest of his body, and he’s pulling you into his chest. this feels different than the times he’d console you when you’d cry, different than the times he’d hug you after his wins.

because this feels like his own victory.

“are you okay with this?” he asks, his hand stilling on your back as he waits for a response. you nod, and he thinks that maybe he’s a little too drunk. do you want this as much as he does? what happens after tonight?

tooru forces his tendency to overthink away into the back of his mind, and he begins to dance his fingers along your back like two figures waltzing to an orchestra.

he likes this — he feels at peace like this.

and in the morning, he feels the pounding in his head be replaced by pounding in his chest. he peers down at you with those chestnut eyes and pushes the hair away from your face. so once again, he lets his hand wander down to your waist, and you push yourself further into his body.

sure, the lines have blurred a little bit, but tooru was hoping that it would happen anyway.

#i wrote this a lil too quickly he was on my mind and i need to feed my brainrot #don’t be mean about the writing pls it’s unedited and i’m sleepy #i just like him a lot i think #sayu.writes #oikawa fluff #oikawa x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyu x reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x reader #i forgot how to tag drabbles oh my god rip this will have to do

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mumblesplash · 1 year

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appreciate all your feedback thank you everyone i am taking notes

#for the record this is definitely an exaggeration i know SOME things #i’m aspec not blind #but i do forget and then get taken off guard it’s pretty funny #like oh shit right i drew a buff cowboy with his shirt ripped open what was i expecting here #it’s not MY fault he decided to go solidarititties-out for the villain arc i’m just drawing what i see #mumbling

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ocpdzim · 4 months

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tbh my advice to other disabled people is Don’t Be Afraid To Be An Asshole Sometimes. like not unprovoked but if people are bothering you. you may think “he probably doesn’t mean anything by it” and maybe you’re even right, but if you’re enough of a pain in the ass about it then people learn not to be ableist next time and it doesn’t actually hurt them any aside from momentarily feeling horribly awkward. grill ME on why i’m sitting down at an event where most people stand up and you get my whole medical history in painstaking detail loud enough for everyone nearby to hear our conversation. and the bonus of this is it flips an interaction that would otherwise be upsetting and embarrassing to you back around onto the dick who tried to make you feel that way. it’s your turn to feel like you’ve personally fucked up the vibe at the whole party now, dipshit

#you can tailor it to the severity of the offense too #like if it’s just a guy saying i should stand up i just list the reasons im not doing that in a matter of fact manner #but if someone actually goes so far as to make like. a horribly offensive remark.#like a guy who once said autistic people have no souls right in front of me not knowing i was autistic #you can rip the motherfucker apart LOL #for that one i went with ‘did you know i’m autistic too!’ followed by pretending to be confused every time he tried to explain himself and #asking for clarification until he literally gave up and put his hat over his face LMAO #‘i don’t look autistic? so what does autistic look like then???’#‘i’m different from other autistic people you know? i didn’t know you had so many autistic friends who are they! can you introduce us?#oh you don’t actually have any?? so are you lying? oh you meant your friend’s 5 year old son? are most allistic adults you know the same as #allistic 5 year olds? you know i work with kids a lot but i haven’t noticed that before!’

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onejellyfishplease · 8 months

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Let’s take role call.

Open Your Shell to Find Your Wings: Donnie gets mutated again partway to a beetle

The Connections of a Soul: Donnie looses his physical body

Unmutated Donnie au: Donnie gets, well, unmutated

… I’m sensing a theme here

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giddlygoat · 1 year

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eight hours | the stanley parable fic

[ 2527 words • fluff, could be seen as ship or platonic • oneshot; may be continued ]

stanley’s tired. he just wants to get a good night’s sleep. the narrator eventually obliges, even if he doesn’t fully understand stanley’s desire to lay unconscious for eight hours.

…

“stanley, what in the world are you doing?”

usually, the narrator could wait patiently for stanley to leave his office before beginning their new run. he would use this short period as a sort of mental refresher, preparing himself for the adventure ahead and taking a moment of quiet to himself. stanley always left eventually, often in moments, but something was holding them up. he had seemingly crawled under his desk with his back to the corner in a curled up position that could only be so comfortable.

“are you feeling unwell? you’ve been laying there for nearly half an hour now.” the narrator recognized the similarities between stanley’s display and general human tendencies regarding sleep, although he had not seen him asleep very often at all. he knew for a fact that stanley didn’t even require sleep.

stanley only shifted slightly, adjusting the arm folded under his head. he made no effort to explain himself, or address the narrator at all, for that matter.

“well, as long as you’ve not contracted some sort of deadly virus or something, i suppose i can’t stop you from sleeping my precious time away.”

stanley’s face crinkled up just slightly, just for a second. the narrator felt a small zip of amusement through him. “yes, i suppose i should leave you to it. not like we have anything better to be doing right now… like exploring the surprise i made for you.”

stanley did not perk up as the narrator had expected. that was strange; he was certain telling people that there’s a surprise to look forward to was supposed to be a sure way of getting their attention.

“i said,” the narrator cleared his throat for emphasis. “you’ll miss your special surprise.”

stanley burrowed his head deeper in his arms, as if that could block out the disembodied voice.

the narrator sighed in exasperation. “come on, stanley, work with me here. is the mystery not enticing enough for you? what about i drop hints, or we play a game of hot and cold?”

stanley did not move. at this point, the narrator knew very well that stanley would not be able to ignore him enough to fall asleep, and he deduced that his protagonist was simply ‘playing dead’ in the hopes that the narrator would get bored and flit off as if he had better things to be doing.

the narrator almost chuckled at the notion. he would not break that easily.

“look, stanley - i will be straight with you. i’m not going to stop pestering you until you leave that office. i really do have a surprise for you, something new - i really think you’ll love it! but you’re going to have to move in order to actually enjoy it.” a small prick of anxiety made itself known within the narrator. even when stanley didn’t cooperate, he would always move eventually. there had never been a time that the narrator was unable to motivate stanley to move eventually, either by persuasion, reverse psychology, or brute force annoyance.

yes, he was sure of it. stanley had never stopped moving for more than an hour or so, and even on this rare occasion, it was with some purpose or goal in mind. something in the narrator’s subconscious urged him to reassure this thought thoroughly.

stanley sighed, sluggishly rolling his head so that an eye emerged from his pillow of arms. he blinked slowly at nothing.

“erm… please?” it felt awfully silly to say, and the narrator decided right then that he didn’t particularly enjoy it.

however, it seemed to convince stanley. he sighed, crawled out from under his desk and stretched out, using his chair for balance.

“yes! i promise you will not-“

[i want to sleep.] stanley signed. he had an air of determination about him. though, the narrator wasn’t sure if he’d ever seen him without that hard-headed aura.

“sleep? why on earth would you desire to exercise the most boring of human functions?”

stanley paused for a moment to consider whether or not this even counted as ‘earth’ before deciding that topic was a can of worms he wasn’t ready to open. he also decided that pointing out that sleep could actually be fun and fascinating among a dozen other pleasant side effects probably wouldn’t be useful, considering who he was talking to.

so instead, he signed [i’m tired.]

the narrator scoffed. “no, you’re not. that’s physically impossible; i didn’t even code natural fatigue into you to begin with.”

stanley grimaced. he wasn’t sure how to respond to that, especially not with the newfound bitter taste in his mouth.

“if you’re just bored of the content so far, then i just offered you a solution. the surprise, remember?”

stanley ground his teeth slowly, weighing his options. the narrator was not understanding him. this was a kind of bone deep, all-consuming exhaustion that had been due for a long, long time. his body didn’t have to ache for his mind to feel like a wet paper bag stuck to a parking lot. he was simply at his limit.

but, he also didn’t have a lot of options.

[if i come with you, will you let me sleep afterwards?] stanley was unsure of how to explain himself. despite the justification for anger in his situation, he felt nervous more than anything. he was desperate - he’d take what he could get.

“sure, you can take a nap after you see the surprise.”

stanley pinched the bridge of his nose. [no. i mean a deep sleep.]

there was a very loud, very brief moment of silence. “…for how long?”

stanley almost laughed. if he hadn’t already been dealing with this crap for so long, he might not have believed that he was bargaining the number of hours he got to sleep with some ignorant prick in the ceiling.

[a night’s sleep. like eight hours.]

the narrator whistled, and stanley swore he heard the gentle shift of a rolling chair on the floor. “eight hours? that’s quite a lot, stanley. i’m not sure if i can swing that.”

stanley made no effort to hide the obvious irritation on his face. [yes you can. you’ve swung harder for much less.]

“well, what am i supposed to do for eight hours? i don’t exactly have a surplus of protagonists laying around at my disposable. i assure you, if i did, i would have given up on you ages ago.”

[thanks.] stanley rolled his eyes.

“gratitude is not the appropriate response here, stanley. that was a dig at your insufferable nature and reckless attitude.”

stanley might have signed something in response if his hands weren’t busy holding his head. he drug them down his face, groaning in frustration. [please, let’s just get this over with.]

“wonderful!” the narrator clapped. “right this way, stanley.” a familiar yellow arrow appeared on the floor before stanley, snaking through a newly opened door. the smile in his voice was back. stanley wished he had something to smile about too.

“you won’t regret this. i made this just for you, you know.” the narrator continued to hype up the surprise stanley tried not to get his hopes up about. knowing the narrator, it was probably something underwhelming and useless, like another mostly infinite hole or a new closet.

stanley followed the adventure line in no hurry. he allowed himself to fantasize about something beautiful and gratifying. the narrator occasionally rattled on about all the effort that went into this spectacular mystery gift, and how brilliant it was, and how ecstatic stanley would be upon seeing it.

stanley imagined a stretching, open field surrounded by a horizon of trees and distant green hills. wind tickled his ears and sunshine kissed his face as he walked in the direction of his choice. no limits, no rules, no voice.

the sluggish pace he progressed at did not escape the narrator’s notice. it either meant he was simply savoring every delicious moment of suspense or he wasn’t excited about his surprise, and something inclined the narrator to believe it was the latter.

yes, upon closer inspection, stanley didn’t look happy at all. it then struck the narrator quite suddenly that stanley’s claims of tiredness from earlier were starkly evident on his features. he really did look exhausted.

the narrator contemplated his surprise. perhaps the new closet he had cooked up would not please stanley as he had previously hoped. he knew stanley loved closets - there was no doubt about it, but he just didn’t seem to be in a closet exploring kind of mood.

well, they were only paces from their destination now. the narrator had to act fast.

“erm, hold on, stanley.”

before stanley rose a brick wall, haphazardly slapped in last second. stanley took a step back, scratching his head.

“let’s see… hold on, i just have to make a few minor adjustments. i realized my design wasn’t quite perfect and i really should present you with only the best.” the narrator hummed absentmindedly as he hastily constructed a new room in the closet’s place, digging through assets and arranging everything just so.

stanley yawned slowly, unaffected.

“right… there we go! sorry about that, right this way.” the narrator lowered the brick wall once more, and stanley followed the adventure line down to the end of a forgettable hallway. the door at the end was a deep green. stanley had to admit, the new splash of color was easy on the eyes.

“well, what are you waiting for? go on,” the narrator urged stanley inside, anxious to see his reaction. stanley sighed, mentally preparing himself for disappointment. he twisted the knob and stepped inside.

“oh, isn’t it just beautiful?” the narrator said dreamily.

stanley had to pick his jaw off the floor. it… really was beautiful. he found himself in an expansive greenhouse surrounded by big leafy plants and frosted glass panes on every side. the floor was laid with swirling patterns in red brick and white stones.

what caught stanley’s eye the most, however, was the enormous bed in the center of the greenhouse. a circular sheer curtain shrouded the bed in a hazy green. stanley was moving towards it before he could think.

“look, i’ve thought about what you said, and i think perhaps… i haven’t been the most accommodating. let me make it up to you.” the sheer curtain rolled back before stanley’s eyes, and he realized the comforter was fashioned to look like a lush moss carpet. he reached out and pet the fluffy surface, unable to believe what he was seeing. it felt marvelous.

“you can have eight hours in here. oh, and i almost forgot-“ stanley only realized it had been silent when suddenly the sound of rain on the roof swelled around him. he looked at the foggy windows to see the color of the sky had darkened to a pleasant dusty purple.

“there we go! perfect sleeping conditions. now, wasn’t that surprise worth it?” the narrator waited for stanley to move. he just stayed there frozen, his hand in the shaggy fluff of the comforter.

“…stanley?” this was unusual. something about the situation inspired a prick of anxiety within the narrator.

but sure enough, stanley’s taut shoulders softened, his hand retracting from the blanket. he looked around the greenhouse slowly, letting his eyes snag on every little detail among the abundant plant life.

had the narrator really created all of this just for him? just for this occasion? stanley gulped, inhaling deeply. the air felt richer and damper. his eyes stung.

he didn’t bother signing. he unbuckled his belt, pushing off his slacks, and unbuttoned his shirt enough to pull it over his head and throw it unceremoniously to the floor. then he dove under the covers, eagerly wrapping himself up in the heavenly softness of the comforter.

the narrator sputtered quietly at the sudden display, clearing his throat. he supposed that was a yes. “well, i suppose i should leave you to it, now.” he said rather awkwardly, unsure of how to proceed.

stanley’s eyes washed over the ceiling, watching the rain patter and roll on the glass above him. he finally worked up the determination to pull his arms out from under the covers once more in order to sign. [what are you going to do?] he asked out of curiosity more than anything.

the narrator hadn’t expected stanley to say anything after all. to be perfectly honest, he didn’t have a clue. and in the vein of honestly, he didn’t particularly want to leave. he had just put this place together; it would only make sense to stay and admire it. just a bit longer.

[are you there?] stanley signed after a moment. the narrator realized he had not responded. “ah, yes, of course. uhm… i was actually just contemplating that. i think i rather like this place, and i’m not particularly anxious to leave yet - if that’s quite alright with you.”

a small smile grew on stanley’s face. the narrator studied it closely. [it’s very nice. thank you.] as if to prove his point, stanley gathered up the bunched up comforter in his arms and snuggled beneath it. the narrator studied this closely as well. stanley looked so… content. he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to feel about that.

“you’re very welcome, stanley.” he smiled despite himself. maybe stanley would finally understand that the narrator had his best interest in mind after this. yes, surely he would take a lesson from this.

somehow, watching stanley burrow into the cozy cocoon of his blanket made the narrator feel inclined to keep those sentiments to himself for now.

several moments passed by, and stanley’s eyes had closed, the rise and fall of his chest slowing. the narrator had to admit, the sound of the rain was quite relaxing. he knew if stanley wasn’t asleep by now it was only a matter of time, and then it would be eight hours of nothing.

perhaps the narrator would leave at some point to work on new areas or flesh out his story. but until then, he found that he wasn’t bored. quite the opposite, really. watching stanley sleep was fascinating. seeing him at peace was a rare thing.

maybe the narrator had been too harsh on him. what good is a protagonist who’s sick of his own story? the narrator toyed with the idea of allowing stanley to visit this place regularly. it could be good for morale, and give the narrator ample time to perfect his new ideas. yes, he would certainly consider it.

until then, stanley was fast asleep, and the narrator suddenly had no one to talk to. he’d never understood the appeal of sleep, as it just eats up valuable time, but seeing stanley in this state inspired curiosity in the narrator. it looked cozy. he found himself wondering what that might feel like.

these thoughts would zip through the narrator’s mind as he flitted around his maps, making improvements to his plots here and there. eight hours would pass slowly and quietly, and the narrator found that his pondering kept the inherit bore of it all at bay.

#my fics #the stanley parable #tsp #stanley tsp #the narrator tsp #stannarrator #tsp fic #uhhh i don’t share fics often and i’m nervous lol. hi. i don’t have a beta reader i just try to spellcheck and perfect all my own stuff #which is why i hardly ever finish fics rip shsjdndnn #i know this one doesn’t have a super satisfying ending. i meant to like. make more. but i know if i wait to post it it’ll never happen #so here! enjoy whatever this is lol #oh and i know stanley technically has apartments with beds in the game but.#this is actually inspired by my mom’s greenhouse which is enormous and has a full size bed in it!#and it’s actually the deepest most peaceful sleep of your life believe me. it’s so rad. so i wanted stanley to have that #he deserves it <3

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