#I hope i'm writing her right...

[overdevelopedglasses]

Sunday Six???

hi gang i've been actually swamped. Who knew being a narrative lead would be so stressful? But I found the time while things were trying to boot on my computer to dig through the WIPs and find the one thing that was poking my brain. Yes, Shinumi is back. Hope you're not sick of him bc he is my son.

So, tagging @four-white-trees @jichanxo @passthroughtime @mike----wazowski @phantasy14 @skysquid22 @ikainkspills

and probably should also tag @bordemsgardem bc... hey guess what! Someone you'd wanna see is here.

---

“So where are you from?” Shinumi says, the last word making his voice crack. He winces, but the bartender seems unfazed.

“Yokohama. What about you?” She picks up another glass to dry as she turns to face him.

Shinumi wrestles with the question for a second. “Nagoya. You know, I think I went on a trip to Yokohama at some point.”

“Really? Where did you go?”

“My school did a field trip to… Seriyo High, I think? Either way, it was some highschool there for some sort of dance thing.” Shinumi didn’t realize what he had said until he saw the bartender’s widened eyes.

“Dance? Like, as a competition?” She cocked her head with curiosity. Shinumi blushed with embarrassment. “...It was a long time ago.”

“You definitely have the body for it, but you didn’t answer my question.” she throws a wink at him.

Shinumi takes a deep breath, attempting to ignore the past welling up within him, “Sometimes it was for competition, sometimes it was more like… a performance. I was a fan of the latter.”

[lovesickeros]

can.. can I ask for an affectionate reader with characters who aren’t normally like… used to the love? like, not just through words but physical affection like hand-holding, kisses, hugs, all that shebang. probably with a few people like yelan, ei, basically any character that is either cut-off from society or seems socially distant or isolated. 😞

☆ affectionate reader with yelan, ei, & furina

[ 4.2 Archon Quest spoilers ]

× yelan

Varies between how you display your affection, to be honest. Just like being affectionate with people? She's cool with it as long as you don't pop by while she's working (mostly because she'll end up dragging you into it for a bit of fun). I don't think she's all that touchy feely herself, but she'll absolutely get you gifts instead– like pretty knick nacks? She'll make sure to snag any she thinks you might like. Like a good meal? Sure, she'll take you out to one of the restaurants in the city, doesn't matter how expensive. Her treat. If you do prefer physical gifts rather then being taken out, you'll eventually get used to the random unmarked letters and packages showing up where your staying pretty often. It's obvious to know who it came from even if she never signs anything.

Flirty reader, though? Whole nother can of worms and now it's a challenge. The more confident you are the more interested she is. The other acolytes would absolutely seethe at the idea but she has no hesitation at just straight up flirting back– she's as charismatic as they come and she's got a poker face that's basically impenetrable. She'll probably also make a bet to see who cracks first (she always wins, unsurprisingly). Probably won't get dragged into any of her schemes this way but if you ask politely maybe she'll consider it, anyway.

The smell of freshly brewed tea and the clatter of dice across wood was a common sight at the Yanshang Teahouse– less common was the woman secluded in the far corner, her lips pulled into a grin that flashed fangs and a look that would scare off the most confident of men.

She'd normally try to scope out any new blood that'd made the mistake of stepping into her teahouse and was equally stupid enough to accept a gamble against her just for the thrill of it, but she was far too absorbed in the warm body at her side, one of her die clasped tightly in their hand as she guided them through the motions– they had a knack for it, she had to admit. The thought made her preen, the clatter of the die as it rolled across the table giving her that subtle, familiar rush.

Even if she knew exactly where it'd land.

"Six. Hm, maybe you're just lucky," She muses, plucking the die from the table and holding it up to her eye like a prized jewel, "Or maybe you're not as innocent as you'd have us believe." There's a sharp glint in her eyes at the prospect, but everyone else has the sense to keep their heads down and their words to themselves as she tosses the die herself.

"So why don't we find out and make a bet, just between you and me?"

× ei

Varies between Ei and the Shogun, because you'll probably be seeing either as much as the other. Sometimes you gotta really squint to tell who it is sometimes, but you get used to it. Both are fairly similar, though, in that their first instinct (especially in public) is to tense up like you're about to attack them or something. Difference is Ei eventually relaxes after a solid minute of trying to process your sudden affection and, if no one else is around, she might even reciprocate. Just don't tease her for being a little stiff and awkward about it, she's trying. That's what happens when your only company is a robot and uh. Nothing. For like 500 years. She's trying. Raiden, on the other hand, is just about as awkward as you can imagine. She's polite (blunt) about it because Ei is fond of you and also you are. The Creator. But she's not really built to deal with personal relationships and so she doesn't know how to deal with affection.

..Depending on what you do you may or may not blue screen Ei hard enough that she retreats back to PoE

Ei usually isn't fond of sitting still, unless it's to meditate. At least then she goes in with a purpose, something to achieve– but now, she's just focused on trying not to make a fool of herself. Her muscles are starting to ache from how hard she's tensing, though, in an effort to sit as straight and still as possible as their hands glide through her hair, weaving it into a single braid.

She can just barely hear the subtle lilt of their voice as they hum– and though it is soothing, it is also..very distracting. She can't focus long enough to try and meditate, too lost in the gentle rise and fall of their voice and the care they take to braid her hair. If she'd had a heart, she'd sure it'd be beating so wildly against her ribcage they could hear it.

But then it stops– their hands fall back to their sides and their humming falters. She freezes, too, racking her brain for any slights she must have committed. Instead, she is met with a calm, tender touch on the back of her neck, making her inhale sharply.

"Am I making you uncomfortable, Ei? You're so tense.." She has to grit her teeth to stop herself from bowing so low her head presses against the ground, her hands folded in her lap, clenching instinctively. "..No, Divine One." She answers simply, trying to contain the adoration swelling in her chest.

Yet as much as she tries to relax, to ease their worries, she finds that she cannot.

"Hm." That small murmur, a simple sound that nearly made her jump, was the only warning she got before they scooted closer, wrapping their arms around her stomach and resting their chin on her shoulder with a grin she would liken to Miko's, if she dared to make such a comparison. "Really?"

She swears she must've been feverish at the affection, lightheaded and dazed until she thought she might simply perish at the brush of their hands against her own.

Much to her embarrassment, however, she doesn't realize she's instinctively pulled back into Plane of Euthymia until she sees the familiar dull purples engulf her vision once again.

Though only a small solace, it seemed a little..brighter, this time.

× furina

Varies between pre 4.2 and post 4.2 archon quests to be honest.

Pre 4.2 she comes off as very vain– of course the most Divine would see fit to spoil her with affection! She deserves it, and is obviously their favorite! Just don't look too hard because she's terrible at hiding how flustered she actually is. Absolutely goes home right after and screams into her pillow for at least thirty minutes minimum.

Post 4.2 she's a lot more openly bashful and flustered. She's really not used to affection and even the smallest show of it has her folding immediately. Now that she doesn't need to worry about being found out she's a lot more receptive to affection. Cup her cheeks and compliment her and her knees are buckling. Like. Especially weak for compliments and praise (she deserves it. please spoil her).

She swears she must be hallucinating– she had been having trouble sleeping recently. But..no. The visage of the Creator was as real as the sweat beading on her brow as she stared at them for a long, awkward moment. Should..she let them in? But then they'd see the pathetic state she was in, and the last thing she wanted to do was make a fool of herself in front of them-!

Her choice was quickly made for her, anyway, as she let out an undignified squeak of surprise when they suddenly tugged her forward into their chest, enclosing her in a hug.

Her first reaction was to freeze– her second was becoming absolutely flustered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink and her mouth closing and opening as she tried to find her words.

"I– ah..um." She stumbled over her words instead, floundering like a fish out of water. Yet she felt a distinct sense of emptiness wash over her when they finally pulled back, looking a touch sheepish. "Sorry, sorry– you just looked like you needed a hug."

The silence spoke for itself, her shoulders tensing slightly. But the way the concern and affection bled through their voice made her waver, her hands trembling as she let out a shaky breath that almost sounded like a sigh.

"It's..It's fine! Fine, I'm fine." She repeated, trying desperately to ignored the way her voice cracked and how hot her face felt– though it was more an attempt to affirm herself that she was not thinking about how warm they felt, how much she..actually enjoyed the hug. She wasn't thinking about it all! Absolutely not!

..Maybe a little.

"Just warn me next time, please?"

[undead-moth]

I know I've been on about this for a while now and I'm being a hater but you're telling me SydCarmy was "always meant to be platonic" even though there are two seasons of writing making use of tried-and-true explicitly romantic tropes, themes and writing signals, and SydLuca is going to be romantic because...he was nice to her on screen for a few minutes?

I don't even care if people ship SydLuca, or if they just prefer it, but you can't honestly tell me that you believe Carmy was always meant to be a friend but Luca is an obvious love interest.

Just because Syd and Carmy haven't kissed or confessed their love to each other doesn't mean that isn't very obviously the direction this show is going. The Bear has already shown you who is endgame. It has shown you every episode of the show so far.

Honestly I really don't think The Bear fanbase understands this show or cares about these characters or the story being told here, which is unfortunate because this show is shockingly well-written in comparison to most shows right now, and we should be so grateful for it but all we're doing is complaining that the writers led us on by not making a ship canon fast enough. It's just. Sad.

[hamletshoeratio]

Can y'all just be you know normal Marina Thompson for like 5 seconds? Because christ, the sheer Misogynoir that some of you spread about her character is insane and you don't even realise it.

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 1

So this is based off this post I made about Danny slowly losing small motor function after the accident. I'll be doing this in parts, both for more writing time and because I have no idea how to add a 'read more'.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The first person to truly realize something was wrong was Jazz. Oh, Danny wasn't dumb, he knew something was different- after all, he was the one living through it- but it was no big deal. Fumbling with shoe laces could easily be due to exhaustion from adjusting to having to deal with ghosts, the same with slipping up on buttons or the slight decrease in the quality of his handwriting. While he wasn't dumb, there were some things he just wasn't perceptive about, and his sister noticed.

Danny thought he was just being clumsy any time food dropped onto his shirt. Jazz noticed his hand couldn't quite hold the fork or spoon steady. He laughed off a failure to catch something, but his sister noticed he did catch it but it somehow slipped through his hands. Small issues, new ones that had no reason to appear.

When she learned about the accident, that felt like a reason, but- Phantom was a part of who Danny was, and when flying around and handling things with ghosts or using tools, there were no indications of anything the oldest Fenton child had seen bothering her brother. It might be a new set of colors and new powers, but it was still her brother's body, so nothing could really be wrong. Maybe he was just more alert as Phantom.

The best she could do was keep an eye on the situation, nothing seemed to be going too wrong. Maybe Danny's insistence that it was just from exhaustion was true and she was looking too far into things. After all, the only scar from the accident was so faint it could only be seen if he got sunburnt or otherwise discolored his skin, something like that shouldn't be able to cause long-lasting problems.

Maybe it was optimistic, but Jasmine Fenton was hoping for the best.

Next

[coyoteclan]

Big TW for pet loss

Hey, clangen tumblr and those who just enjoy the silly cats on this blog. I know it's been a little bit of time since my last update, but unfortunately during the past few months, I have been caring for my closest friend, Comet.

She's been my best friend for 15 whole years, and on February 9th of 2024, I'm sad to say that she has passed. I won't lie when I say that this is one of the hardest posts I've ever made, but I want to continue this blog in her honor. Normally, I have a terrible habit of just letting projects like this slip by me and gather dust; however Comet was meant to play an integral part within the blog to immortalize her, and I refuse to let something meant just for her to go to waste.

I want to thank you all first of all for being such an amazing community. I've genuinely had so much joy come of this blog, and it pains me that I let it go stagnant for as long as I have. There are 568 of you now, which is so extremely wild to me; but I hope that from now on, you can all love Comet as much as I did, even if as a memory.

I hope to return to posting content both here and on my main, @mxssacre , but for now I still need time to grieve and come to terms with the loss of someone that was so incredibly intertwined with everything I've done since I was 9 years old.

Thank you for everything Comet, my heart, my soul, my love.

More of my favorite photos of her beneath the cut.

It's hard to choose favorites out of the thousands of photos I've taken of her over the years, but I hope these do her justice to show what an amazing being she was. I hope you're hunting your toy mice in the stars, Comet.

[hailsatanacab]

@the-ghost-trader - ooooh, i love this! it has the potential to be so incredibly sad, too, like poor Damian just trying to carve out something normal for himself only for it blow up in his face

BUT, shockingly, i'm not about the angst today! not yet anyway 😇

---

“So, how was your day?”

Despite his answering groan, Damian likes this. This. This whole… thing he has with Danielle. With Ellie. 

And, yeah, he’s not exactly told any of the others yet, but can you blame him? For wanting to keep something, anything, to himself. Wanting to keep this small little slice of goodness he’s managed to carve out, untouched and unmarred by his family, by their other lives, by the rogues, the vigilantes, the assassins, everyone.

“That bad, huh?”

Being with Ellie is freeing. That’s the best way to describe it.

She knows. Damian surprised even himself when he told her—not about the others, mind, but he supposes it’s not hard to put two and two together and Dani has always been smarter than most—but it’s the best decision he’s ever made, and no matter what the niggling little voice in the back of his head says (the one that sounds suspiciously like Father), he can’t bring himself to regret it.

He won’t. Because having Ellie know gives him freedom.

She’s a safe place, a hand to hold, a warm, welcoming presence when things inevitably turn ugly. It’s the freedom to just be normal when everything else in his life spirals into stranger and more stressful missions.

“Richard is being insufferable again. I do not understand his incessant need to know everything about my life.”

“Oh? What’s he done now?” 

“I was subjected to an hour long interrogation about my love life, like it’s any of his business. It’s infuriating!”

“Ugh, tell me about it. I get the same thing from Jazz, constantly. It can be suffocating.” Ellie says as she curls herself tighter into his side. “But it’s just how they show they care.”

“Yes, well, sometimes I wish he wouldn’t—”

“Hey!” Ellie pushes herself up to glare at him, punctuating her shout with a soft whack to his arm for good measure. “What have I said about using that word?”

“Yes, yes,” he placates with a roll of his eyes, “‘Be careful what you wish for.’ I apologise, it won't happen again.”

“Damn straight it won't.”

She maintains eye contact with him for a second longer before tucking herself back into his side, squirming around with a long, contented hum that Damian can feel rumble through him. He smiles and doesn’t complain even when he has to shift to give her more room after a particularly strong elbow jabs him in the ribs. It means leaving the warm patch on the couch, but he’s rewarded with another long, happy moan as she settles and Damian can’t bring himself to mind.

Ellie constantly makes noises. Little mews and hums and laughs and songs known only to her. It reminds him of a cat, sometimes. He likes it. It calms him down; it means she’s happy, so he's happy.

They settle back into the cushions and Damian lets the subject drop, not wanting to spoil the moment. Outside, the wind changes direction and from where he’s laying he can watch as the snow starts to come down thick and heavy. Hopefully it’ll mean a quiet night's patrol.

“Is that why you haven’t introduced me yet?”

“What?” He can't help it, he stiffens at the thought of losing his secret, of the scrutiny he'll be inviting if he lets anyone know.

“Are you worried I’ll embarrass you?”

Damian’s eyes snap down quick to reassure her, only to see her light, teasing grin. He lets out a breath of relief. It figures she wouldn't worry about that.

“Of course not, don’t be absurd. You could never embarrass me.”

“I don’t know,” she muses, her voice taking on a dangerous lilt, “that sounds like a challenge.”

“Believe me, having been subjected to Father’s Brucie persona at every gala I’ve been to, it would take a lot to embarrass me.”

“Alright, bet. I’ll get you, just you wait.”

“You’ve already got me.”

She flicks him on the nose. “You’re such a sap.”

He hums his agreement, enjoying the tinkling sound of her laughter. And then, before he can think otherwise, he asks, “Is that why you haven’t introduced me?”

“That’s different,” she scowls. “You know how hard it is to get there, there’s no signal, and Danny only gets a break like—oh, Ancients!”

Damian gets another elbow to the ribs as she bolts upright, a manic grin on her face that has him laughing.

“What is it?”

“It’s the holidays! It’s nearly Truce Day! You know I said I had a family thing around Christmas?”

“Yes?” 

“Well, do you want to come to it? I can introduce you then! I mean, it’s going to be a bit formal and you’ll have to meet everyone, not just family. There’s going to be some banquets, you’ll have to sit through some long speeches and you have to be on your best behaviour at all times, okay? Absolutely no fighting, it’s called Truce Day for a reason!”

“What?”

“Yeah, it’ll be perfect! I think Jazz is going in a couple days earlier to help with the preparations, so I’ll get her to let Danny know—and fair warning, he will try to give you the shovel talk, but this is great! It’s Truce Day, so he can’t actually do anything about it!”

“I’m sorry, but you're going to have to explain a bit.”

“Yeah, I know, it’s a bit much—but that’s family, right? Danny can get pretty protective over me, which is why going on Truce Day is the best time to do it! He can’t even command the Fright Knight to stab you! It’s genius!”

“Ellie, what?”

“Like, yeah, sure, he’s the king, but even he has to obey the rules of Truce Day—and then once you’ve spent all day with him, he’ll see that you’re a fantastic, wonderful, kind, brilliant, smart, strong, capable person and he’ll get over himself and everything will be good!"

Damian collapses down onto the couch, the wind knocked out of him. This is… He had not expected anything like this at all. For all that Ellie talked about her family, she had never mentioned this.

“Did you… did you say your brother is a king?”

“Yeah! High King Phantom, have I…” The manic grin slips off her face as she turns round and notices Damian. “Have I not mentioned that before?”

“No. No, you have not.”

“Ah. Sorry. Probably should clarify that I’m also a princess.”

“Right. Yes, that follows.”

“And I’m not really his sister, I’m his clone.”

“What?”

Damian blinks and tries to say more, but he has no idea what he’s meant to do with… any of this information. 

Normal. He thought she was meant to be his normal. Nothing could have prepared him for this.

Not that it changed anything, of course, of that he was certain. It’s just… a lot to take in. Overwhelming. But it's okay! He takes a deep breath, and another, and a sense of calm washes over him. Ellie makes one of her little hums as she cocks her head to the side to consider him and he can't help but relax at the normalcy of the sound. It'll be okay, he's dealt with stranger and he can deal with this.

“I’ve, uh… I’ve told you that we’re half ghosts, though, right?”

“What?”

[missmungoe]

“You’re such a pretty man,” Makino sighed, touching her fingertips to his cheek, before rubbing his beard with her thumb. “Your wife is very lucky. Oh—hey.” Her whole expression brightened, her smile entirely cheeky. “That’s me.”

Shanks grinned, delighted. “You are absolutely hammered, aren’t you?”

“Hmm, I think I’m about to be.” She frowned. “Wait—was that not a euphemism?”

My masked Zorro, the unbelievably generous and tantalisingly mysterious Cover Anon, sweeps in once more with another gorgeous cover from Shanties, this time for Penelope (aka, the wedding fic, my beloved), by the incredible @sacred_pirate on twitter.

I...don't know how it's possible to capture the way a fic exists in my mind so perfectly it's like the artist reached into my soul, and yet that's what this feels like. This is one of the most beautiful artworks I've ever seen, and I can't believe it's from my fic, and this fic.

[softquietsteadylove]

Red and Green

Gil is glowering. He's been glowering almost since they arrived. He's happy to help, of course. Jack is in the winter play, and since Sersi is also teaching at his school, they've all come to help out with last minute decorating and such. He's baked five sheet pans worth of goodies for the bake sale taking place before and after the play.

Thena is on stage, helping Jack and a few other kids with putting fake snow everywhere. She's not exactly taking part but she's good at keeping them from throwing it on each other or anywhere unnecessary.

That's not the problem. The teacher talking to her is the problem.

Gil doesn't know who he is. Ben says he thinks he's the gym teacher or something. Seems a little young--aren't gym teachers always old dudes who don't actually play sports? This guy is their age, visibly handsome, even from a distance.

"You're a natural with them," the tall, blonde stranger insists.

Thena shakes her head, "I couldn't disagree more. I am here for Jack and no one else. The little hellions can fend for themselves."

She says, and then still decisively stops two boys close to the stairs from seeing what the fake snow tastes like.

"Well, I think you're a natural." Who does this guy think he is? He was moving some larger stuff around with Ikaris all afternoon. Apparently until Thena caught his eye and lured him away.

Gil rolls his eyes as Mister Blondie pulls off the fleece he's been wearing. His t-shirt gets pulled up a little with it, just enough for the stage lighting to really emphasize the full, washboard eight pack of abs he's got.

Phastos clears his throat loudly in Ben's ear. "Ahe-hem, Mister Stoss."

"Habibi, please," Ben attempts to lean away from his husband. "It is not a sin to have eyes, my love."

Gil sneers to himself. Thena has eyes. And while she wasn't openly admiring like Ben had - no matter how briefly - he knows she's seen them. He just...knows it.

"Gil?" Ikaris walks over to him, tugging at his own t-shirt now that boxes are moved or sets are arranged, or whatever they've been doing. "Wanna give us a hand?"

"Who is that guy?" Gil points blatantly at the man still chatting Thena up while she's trying to keep an eye on Jack and his friends.

Ikaris looks and shrugs. "Teacher."

Gil shakes his head at him. If Ikaris weren't both Thena's brother and Sersi's husband, sometimes he really wonders how they would have become friends. "Thanks, helpful--I meant how did he and Thena get to talking. She doesn't usually talk...with people."

It's not his most subtle tactic. But Ikaris doesn't seem to pick up on his greenish aura. "I heard him ask her a little about what she used to play. Guess they're talkin' about college sports?"

Gil's discomfort only increases, though. Thena did play sports when they were younger. He didn't. And he knows that she misses how she used to play soccer in high school and even in the first year of college.

His eyes are glued to them as Thena smiles and even laughs faintly as she talks to Whats-His-Face.

"What?" Ikaris asks him outright (no tact at all).

Gil huffs, deciding he's done just watching things unfold. "I don't think you'd like it if he was chatting up your wife."

Ikaris makes a face. "I guess not. But he's not. And Thena's not your wife."

Gil doesn't have a defense to that. He storms off so Ikaris can't announce to all the auditorium volunteers how flushed he is. Instead, he hurries up the little stairs onto the stage. "Uh, hey."

Thena stops dead in her conversation to smile at him, "hey."

He has to give it to him, if Mister Golden is bothered at all by the interruption, he doesn't let it show. "Hey, thanks again for helping out. The school doesn't have much to offer for things like these. Volunteering really goes a long way for the kids."

Gil tries not to scoff at Mister Perfect's magnanimous speech. He offers a stiff smile and hovers closer to Thena. "Yeah--I need Thena's help with the bake sale stuff, if you'll excuse us."

Thena lets him grasp her hand and all but pull her away. She only lingers enough to point over her shoulder, "Jack is in charge."

The other kids whine, but he's still riding the high of having all his 'cool' aunts and uncles help.

"Oh," Mister Friendly laughs faintly with a bright smile (and perfect teeth). "Well, it's already snowing out. You should stay warm inside."

Gil bristles as Mister Flirtatious' hand comes dangerously close to touching Thena's shoulder. He pulls her closer to him.

"I can give you a hand," he offers.

Gil is now borderline tugging Thena with him. "Thanks, but I need to, uh, ask her opinion on some things."

He wants to get right in the guy's face and tell him that of course he knows it's already snowing. He's not going to let Thena get cold! He rushes off the stage with her and makes sure to grab her coat off the back of one of the chairs. Maybe it's a bit obvious, but he loudly shakes it out and holds it up for her to slide her arms into the sleeves.

Mister Sunshine just smiles and waves before going back to watching the kids.

Gil sniffs. "He's friendly."

"Quite." It doesn't tell him what he wants it to. Usually Thena isn't warm to people just coming up and talking to her.

"What were you guys talking about?" he asks, realizing it's too late for him to be asking in a fake-casual way. He shoves his hands in his pockets as they walk out of the auditorium and head outside.

"He introduced himself as the physical education teacher," she states factually, which at least isn't the smitten fondness he was dreading hearing from her after their interaction. "He told me Jack is doing exceedingly well in his activities."

Of course that was his in; Thena is a sucker for talking about Jack, in any way, shape or form.

"Phastos is insistent Jack learn American football, but my practices with him have been paying off," she states with her nose all the way in the air with pride.

Gil laughs. Thena is determined to get Jack so hooked on it that he calls it football instead of the American 'soccer'. "It is a little less physical than football."

They get outside and Gil shoves his hands deeper in his pockets. Maybe it was dumb for him to get Thena's coat for her and not go looking for his own.

"Gil, aren't you cold?" she asks outright.

"It's okay, I just need a hand with a few of the trays," he excuses with a smile, unlocking his car from where they stand.

"What did you need my opinion on?"

Oh, right, the blatant and bold faced lie he told in order to soothe his own jealousy. What was he thinking? Ikaris was right, Thena isn't his wife--she's not even his girlfriend. But that never really bothered him so much as when he saw Mister Model up there chatting her up...showing off his abs to her.

"Gil?"

"Uh, well," he hesitates to get out as they step out from the school doors' cover and into the light evening snow. "I guess...do you think what I made will sell well?"

It's lame--it's super lame, and embarrassing. It's a bit late, isn't it? He's made a full dozen of five different desserts. Wouldn't he have asked this before he got so far into the process? And she and Jack were there when he baked them at Ben and Phastos'!

"Of course they will," she answers honestly, though. He likes the blunt and earnest realism on her more than Ikaris. "Your baking is always amazing. I'm sure the school will make back the cost of the play and then some."

"If they make the 'then some' I think I should get to keep the profit," he mutters. Thena laughs at his joke, but butter is expensive, and he's made three dozen different shortbreads! "Here."

He hands Thena a tray of the frosted cookies, which have to be separate from the rest to keep their design integrity pristine. He carries the other three trays himself and closes his trunk.

"It's nice that Jack is excited about it."

Gil smiles, some of his earlier agitation melting away. Thena, for all her insistence that she didn't like anything to do with children, lives for Jack. She loves coming to his school events, helping with parent stuff. He knows she's lied at her job so she can attend every single soccer game he has, even when they're at 4 in the afternoon on a tuesday.

"I didn't expect him to be so happy to have all of us here."

"Well sure," Gil chuckles, breathing a little easier now that it's just them. "Jack thinks you're the coolest aunt in the world. He's bragging to his friends right now about how you were a pro soccer player and know how to use swords."

Thena rolls her eyes modestly. "I keep telling him it's an amateur fencing class."

Calling it amateur is a disservice; Gil has witnessed a little of it giving her a ride once, and she dominates in it.

"I hope he never gets tired of having us around for things like this," she admits to him quietly, maybe even sheepishly. "Even when he's a teenager."

Gil smiles even wider, because Thena is just so sweet and loving under her calm and placid exterior. "I'm sure he won't. At least not you--maybe Uncle Ikaris."

Thena laughs, and it shows off her teeth in a cute way.

Gil shifts his load to open the door for her. He really didn't need help with anything, but he doesn't need to confront what it means that he was so desperate to get her out here with him just yet.

"There you two are, people are starting to arrive!"

"Sorry, just had to keep 'em nice and cold y'know," Gil murmurs as Sersi rushes forward to take Thena's tray for her. He sighs but Ikaris has some decency and extends his hands. Gil lets him take the top tray from him. "Are you sure I'm supposed to have this much real estate?"

Sersi waves a hand. "I've run this bake sale the last three years. I am not exaggerating when I tell you two parents at most will actually bring enough. Everyone else just brings a store bought cookie platter and lets it suffice. They don't sell well and they just take it home with them after the play."

"Gil will put them all to shame."

He blushes at the confidence Thena has in him. "If it's to help the kids put this play on again next year, then fine."

Ben has his phone out, snapping pictures. "They're gonna knock people's socks off, Gil."

"Thanks guys," he sighs as he unwraps his trays upon trays.

"They certainly look great!"

Gil's blood pressure spikes again. He turns and someone has let the golden retriever with a whistle around his neck out of the auditorium. "Thanks."

"Jack's been bragging about how his uncle is the best cook on the planet. I hope I can snag one for myself before the play!"

He's just being friendly, but Gil can feel his veins tightening under his skin with every word out of this guy's mouth. He looks at Ben, who's all excited and bouncing with his phone up. "What?"

Ben points.

Gil looks up, as does Thena. There's a pretty half-assed sprig of mistletoe hanging from the decorative archway put up over the table. He looks around; none of the other ones have this. He's ready to tell Ben to stop messing around. But then the presence of Mister Smiley and the memory of him flirting with Thena resurfaces in Gil's mind.

Thena's eyes go wide but she doesn't move as he pulls her closer. He slides his hand up her cheek, letting his palm angle and hide where their faces make contact, and not too briefly. Her eyes flutter closed.

Everyone's jaws drop (except Ben's).

Gil pulls away. He's kissed her close enough to her mouth that it will look the part, but not actually on her lips. But far away from her cheek that it can't be misconstrued from her view. He smiles as her eyes open again and she blinks at him.

He's never seen Thena blush before.

"You know I wouldn't kiss you without asking," he whispers before pulling himself away from her. "But, uh, come find me after the play is done?"

"H-Hm," she squeaks out, taking a few stiff steps away, her heels clicking like a fawn's hooves as it learns to walk.

Gil goes back to setting up his bake sale spread, some renewed vigour swirling in his chest. He peeks up from the table. Mister Perky seems to have gotten the hint and has started directing parents with trays to take the other (smaller) tables. Gil is satisfied.

Ben loudly snaps a picture, practically giggling. "Habibti, you're as red as the tinsel."

"Stop it! And delete that!"

Gil chuckles to himself as Thena rushes back into the auditorium and away from the commotion he's just caused. He does hope she comes find him after, and not just because he's her ride home.

Ikaris gives him a strange look but Sersi rushes him inside too. She leans back into Gil's view to give him an enthusiastic thumbs up. He blushes, but if Sersi thinks it was the right move then maybe he's onto something.

Gil takes a seat, ready to start selling. He has to admit that maybe he owes it to Mister Chatty to save him a brownie or something. But only if he gets to kiss Thena again later.

[kanerallels]

For @laughingphoenixleader, who requested Kanej in a superhero/villain au

(tw for vague mentions of drug deals and human trafficking, though there's nothing explicit)

The streets of Chicago were clogged with criminals. One couldn’t take a step without seeing a carjacking, a drug sale, a mugging. It was the perfect place for a criminal enterprise to begin and flourish.

It shouldn’t have been a surprise to anyone, then, when someone other than the corrupt law enforcement rose up to stop them.

The Wraith. No one had seen her face, but everyone knew the name. A figure in dark clothing, using knives and carrying out judgment against the traffickers and the dealers before disappearing into the shadows again. Those who used humans as a commodity seemed to be the biggest targets.

Which was lucky for the city’s latest big player.

“Kaz Brekker,” Inej murmured, studying the blurry image on the computer screen. He looked young, though how old she couldn’t tell with the quality of the photo. All that was really obvious was dark clothing and hair, a pale face, and the cane in his gloved hand. Both of which look…familiar.

“Why is he on our radar?” she asked Nina, who was slouched in the wheeled chair in front of the computer.

The young woman shrugged. “Possibly because he’s the main suspect in seventeen different robberies, but no one’s been able to prove it. Or because his right hand man shoots like no human being should be able to. There’s also the fact that he sprouted up out of nowhere overnight. Looks like he took control of Per Haskell’s gang, but he was there all along. We just didn’t see him until now.”

Inej frowned. “Why?”

Getting up from her chair, Nina headed towards the kitchenette in the corner of the basement room Inej used as her headquarters. “Probably because he didn’t want to be seen. And you’ve had other, bigger problems on your mind. Toaster waffle?”

Absently, Inej waved her off, mind spinning. Kaz Brekker. If his plan was to set himself up as the crime lord of the city, that could be a problem. Especially if he was as good as Nina said he was. “I might have to pay him a visit,” she muttered, more to herself than anyone else.

Nina answered anyway as she popped two waffles into the toaster. “Just do me a favor and don’t get stabbed. I have class tonight, and stitching you up doesn’t actually count as homework.”

Despite her cavalier words, Inej could hear the concern hiding behind them, and she smiled. “I’ll be careful, Nina. I promise.”

The other woman didn’t look overly comforted, but nodded all the same.

Later that night, after Nina had cajoled her into eating and resting, then swept off to her night class at Ravka University, Inej slipped out of her civilian clothes and into her suit. It wasn’t quite Superman quality, but the clothing was comfortable and good for sneaking and climbing. She checked to make sure her knives and gear were all secure, and set off into the night.

Brekker seemed to have set up shop at the Crow Club downtown. Inej knew of the place, but Per Haskell—the former owner—had never caused enough trouble for her to have risked the trip, not yet. She’d had bigger prey to track.

Slipping in was a simple matter. One of the windows was unlocked, and Inej eased through into what looked like an office. A desk lined with papers and books stood in the middle, with a cot pushed up against one wall. Does Brekker live here?

A key clicked in the lock, and Inej ghosted into a dark corner, keeping her steps quiet and smooth. A second later, the door swung open, and Kaz Brekker stepped inside, limp obvious, cane swinging.

She caught the barest glimpse of pale skin and high cheekbones before his back was to her, standing at the desk. His movements precise, he flipped through a file, gloved fingers tapping against the outside.

The tapping paused, and his head lifted a little. Then he spoke, his voice rasping and rough.

“The Wraith, I presume.”

How did he know I was here? Inej brushed aside the surprise. There was no use in pretending now. She moved out of the shadows, and Brekker turned to face her.

Inej’s heart skipped a beat. Not for any silly, romantic reasons—though the young man facing her was handsome enough, in a severe way. He was all sharp angles and dark shades, his dark brown eyes taking her in like she was a problem to be solved.

No, the reason her heart skipped a beat was because she knew him.

She hadn’t known his name at the time. But they’d met once, years ago. Before Inej became the Wraith, before she’d escaped the life that had driven her to take this path.

The police had found her. An undercover cop, Detective Nazyalensky, had made contact, and promised her that if she informed on Heleen and her entire organization, she would go free. Inej had been going to meet her the day of the bust when Heleen had summoned her into her office.

She’d known. Inej was sure of it, and if she went into that office, she would be beaten, or sold, or worse. Fear had threatened to choke her, and she’d wavered. Should she run? But she wouldn’t have made it, not if Heleen wasn’t distracted.

And then he’d walked in. He couldn’t have been more than sixteen, but carried himself like a full grown man. But he didn’t look at the girls as he came in, and that struck Inej as curious. The other customers ogled freely.

Maybe he wasn’t a customer. Perhaps he was one of the information dealers who came to Heleen for what the girl’s customers knew. In which case…

She moved toward him quietly, her feet brushing the floor. He was standing at the door of Heleen’s office, facing away from her when she said, “I can help you.”

He’d been startled when he turned to face her, though it faded quickly. He’d lifted an eyebrow, looking a little curious when Heleen’s voice had rung out from the office.

“Enough hiding, little lynx! I said I wanted to see you, and I want to do it now.”

Inej had flinched, unable to prevent the visions flooding her mind. The boy facing her frowned, just a little. Then, he’d spoken. Not to her, but to Heleen.

“You have an appointment to keep with me, Heleen. Haskell won’t wait forever.”

Grumbling, Heleen had appeared at the office door and waved for the boy to follow her in. Before he moved away, the boy had looked at her. “Don’t let them see your tell,” he’d said, voice too quiet to Heleen to make out. “And don’t look back.”

He’d entered the office, and Inej knew. It was time to run.

And so she did. She made it, and Heleen was locked up 24 hours later. Inej was free, and it was thanks to the actions of a stranger.

He had, whether he knew it or not, been the reason she’d gotten away, the reason she’d been able to tell the police everything.

His eyes narrowed a little as he looked at her, and for a second Inej thought, He knows. But then—no. He couldn’t. Her face was covered, and it had been close to four years since her escape.

“And you’re Kaz Brekker,” she said, keeping her voice cool. Business like. “The newest boss on the block.”

“Here to stop me?” Brekker asked, an eyebrow going up. “Bring me to justice like the Black Heretic? The Lantsov family?”

“The police took the Lantsov family,” Inej said, and Brekker snorted.

“The police in this town couldn’t solve their way out of a cardboard box. You handed them the arrest.”

He’s smart. “How do you know that?”

“I make it my business to know.” Folding his hands over his cane, he said, “So, what have I done to merit your attention? I thought I’d kept a fairly low profile.”

“You haven’t done anything. Yet,” Inej said, letting her hand rest on the knives at her waist. Brekker’s gaze followed the movement for only a heartbeat before locking back onto her masked face.

“Ah. Threatening me into submission. Interesting method. Unfortunately for you, I have plans that can’t be put on hold. And you don’t kill anyone unless what they’ve done meets your criteria.”

Inej wouldn’t show her surprise. “You’ve done your research.”

“It’s good to know who I’m dealing with. And to know how you intend to be rid of me.” Continuing, he said, “If you were going to kill me, I’d be dead. Everyone you don’t kill gets handed over to the police, and there’s nothing on me for the police.” The thinnest sliver of a smile appeared. “So, Wraith, your threats are to no avail.”

Oh, he could be dangerous. “Then consider this an appeal to your better nature,” Inej told him.

He laughed, sharp and bitter. “I don’t have one.”

“You have common sense. Don’t give me a reason to come after you, and I won’t.” Inej met his gaze, hoping he would see the intent in her eyes.

He was still for a moment, then inclined his head. “Then perhaps I will see you again, Wraith. Or perhaps not. We’ll see what your code dictates.”

Without another word, he turned back to his desk. Inej hesitated for a fraction of a second, then slipped out the window. Activating the ascension cable she wore strapped to her wrist, she fired it and swung out across the city. She needed to find somewhere to think before her nightly patrols began.

She had a feeling then that she would meet Kaz Brekker again. And she truly didn’t know if she hoped for it or dreaded it.

[buttercup-art]

hey

[holified]

Is anyone still here?

[fitzrove]

hello duchess of fitzrovia,, I see on your Mate interview translation video that you learned german for 3 years before being able to translate the video. may I ask how you learned? do you have any tips? thanks and stay well!!

Hii, thanks for asking! :D

This got long, so TL;DR:

1) Immerse yourself by putting yourself into situations where you truly have to speak/try to understand German to get through it. (Can be "I desperately want to understand this information I found online, but I won't unless I decipher and translate it".)

2) For listening and reading: Seek out a topic area you're genuinely interested in and learn about that in German. (I've never found Duolingo or other apps like that super helpful or interesting/motivating...)

3) For speaking practice especially, consider "real" language courses! For pronunciation, consider making musical cover songs your hobby xD (This is genuinely how I've gotten most of my pronunciation practice.)

I've been passively learning German for about 8 years now (started listening to German-language musicals in 2016), but I did only start learning actively and with intent in 2021. My "official" studies have been:

An A1 basic course in 2021 (6 weeks, 2ish hours a week)

A B1.2 Goethe course in 2023 (10 weeks, 2 hours a week)

A failed attempt at a B2.2 course in 2024 (stopped going because I got too busy with uni), and another B2.2 attempt that I'm currently completing :D

However, I would say that I've learned most of the language on my own, from watching musicals and interviews, reading books, articles and blog posts, and finally immersion - moving to Germany into a city where a lot of basic life things won't get done if you can't speak the language. For example: my apartment building caretaker (who gave me the keys and who I needed to call to fix my shower drain a month in) didn't speak any English, and neither did people at the tax bureau, town hall, supermarket, regional theatres... On trains, some important announcements will only be given in German, and some museums don't give all of their guided tours in English. This has been a huge help for me - sometimes it's a headache, but it does teach you a lot!!!

The major advantage in taking courses, though, is that there's 1) someone to motivate/"force" you to do vocab and grammar exercises, 2) someone to give feedback and corrections, 3) a group to practice speaking with. The last point has been the most helpful for me, I think, because learning super eclectically means that my skills are kind of unbalanced... I read academic texts really well if I can look up individual words & I understand speech in most situations, but I struggle a lot with grammar and independent writing, and I used to be nervous speaking before starting to practice more formally in a classroom setting where there's help.

I think the most important tip I can give is to just dive in - force yourself into situations where the only way you get what you want is by speaking German or figuring out what words mean :D I picked up basic vocabulary and phrases from listening to musicals and reading transcriptions (important!) and translations of the songs I was listening to, and from there, it was easy to expand. For reading, I really recommend finding something that you're organically interested in otherwise (for me it's been 19th century history research and primary sources from that era, as well as musical theatre stuff); for listening, I recommend looking up documentaries/music/movies that you would also watch if they were in English. In many language classes they will purposefully teach you about German/DACH culture and show students "classics" from those countries, and while that's also important, I think for independent learning it's more effective to find something that you're really, genuinely personally passionate about.

I still Deepl difficult words and make a huge amount of grammar mistakes when speaking (my current course includes one-on-one discussion hours with the teacher which has been so helpful, but she needs to interrupt me about once a minute with "syntax... SYNTAX!!" xD) but I get complimented a lot on my German skills, largely due to the fact that I speak confidently despite the mistakes & have a decent accent >:)

[njamil21]

Another set of unpublished sketches!

This time this is a character I play as from my friend's Call of Cthulhu TTRPG campaign, Clayton Boyd. We did a one shot in February but have decided to continue it again this month so I thought it would be fun to dig up these old sketches and post them. It was my first time playing Call of Cthulhu so I was unfamiliar with the character making process but I found the different rolls for education and looks to be a fun aspect on it, especially since my character rolled so low on both which helped finalized the details for Clayton.

Clayton is a young man from Starkville, Mississippi, who before he could graduate highschool, got caught in a house fire and lost his younger sister in the process. After finally healed up enough to get around but not from the trauma, he ran away to Vermont and was then employed by Sadie Eakley (pictured right) to be her stablehand and unofficial personal assistant as she goes chasing after Lovecraftian mysteries.

The campaign is set in the 1920's but men's fashion is pretty simple aside from a few structural details so Clayton doesn't get any elaborate outfit, especially given his net worth of 20 whole dollars, but his employer is rich enough to have cute outfits. Sadie is played by my friend, @rainbowdoom32 , and I meant to color this piece but as I can't find the original page for this sketch, it will have to be posted as is. She's a fashionable, lively, and very intelligent young debutante, which makes for a lovely contrast to Clayton's more taciturn and brusque character. I've been enjoying their interactions and I'm very tempted to draw them together again if I can!

Please do not edit or repost without permission. (I edited my commission prices!)

[running-on-coffee-and-anxiety]

Noticed But Hoping For The Best Part 5

There was nothing wrong, Danny knew that! He was just getting more and more tired as the ghost attacks ramped up, but it wasn't like he could explain why he was so exhausted. What would he even say? 'I'm the one fighting all the ghosts and going home was stressful until Jazz managed to set the home security system to not target me'? No, absolutely not. Because of that, however, he was forced to endure people acting like he was sick or something!

Well, Jazz didn't at least. She was just doing her general check-ins after his fight, always fussing over him and yet they quicky figured out that any injuries he gains as Phantom? They show up as bruises of varying severity when in his human form! As the bruises faded, the wounds Phantom had slowly healed, though they of course looked how they were supposed to on his ghost form. It was actually really cool to know that he wouldn't end up severely scarred from any injuries he got defending Amity Park!

Still, his sister used any day after a fight as an excuse to fuss and make sure he was okay, even if it was something simple as making him a smoothie for breakfast- when did she start doing that, anyways? Did they really have enough non-sentient food in the fridge, or was Jazz keeping her own personal store of stuff-? Actually that would make sense, maybe he should start doing the same. Sometimes she went a bit overboard, though, like insisting she was the one to comb his hair or tie his shoes before they went out the door. Danny wasn't a toddler, there was no need to go that far!

Still, he good-naturedly rolled his eyes and grumbled, occasionally fighting it- she once tried to zip up his jacket for him! Just because his fingers were clumsy from not getting enough sleep doesn't mean he was unable to do it himself- but otherwise the teen let his older sister fuss, knowing it made her feel better.

Thankfully, Tucker wasn't acting any different, either! It would have been easy to see, since they were spending more time together while Sam was away, but there was no change- except for teasing about his appearance, or about his handwriting. Danny had noticed that about his handwriting as well, lines never seemed to come out straight when he started writing or tried to draw, but that was another thing explained away by exhaustion. The lack of sleep affecting small motor skills was something he'd heard his parents warn each other about when growing up, and after the portal opened Jazz had lectured them about it and forced them to go to bed several times so they wouldn't hurt themselves in the lab.

Sleep felt like a bit of a luxury at this point, like going a week without a ghost attack or a test somehow being cancelled. Sure, he wasn't going sleepless, Jazz would never allow that and the ghosts tended to attack during the day, but apparently six hours weren't enough. Why else would he be nodding off in classes? Or maybe he was just bored, Danny could easily find that to be the case.

And yet when he was Phantom? Oh, he felt fantastic! Completely full of energy, his hands seemed to obey his mind, everything was clear and sharp, it was like he'd downed a coffee just before starting his fights! However, that made everything so much more prominent when he switched back. His left side randomly twitching- probably from overuse, his muscles did tend to feel sore around those times- but at least his right side didn't seem to feel it. It was probably just because the shock entered from his left hand, it would make sense for things to still be healing, even if turning half-ghost fixed most of the damage.

But it really seemed like having to deal with the ghosts invading the town was effecting his life more and more. It was taking longer to heal from any injuries he got in his human form- Dash tripped him once, Danny faceplanted into his locker, got detention for finally yelling at him and the busted lip he got took over two weeks to heal, it wasn't a good day- his grades were starting to drop, Mister Lancer seemed to be increasingly irritated with him. It was so frustrating! He was trying his best!

At least everything seemed to be alright in science class, it was as enjoyable as always. Sure, he always had to ask his lab partner to handle the finer details, like anything involving pipettes, but it was still fun! Even if he didn't enjoy his parents flavor of scientific curiosity, that didn't change the fact science was one of his favorite subjects. So of course, it made sense his luck would work against him and ruin one of the few good school-related things he had.

it was just a normal class, and his hands were steady enough to accurately poor things and use pipettes! Danny felt like he was on top of the world, he hadn't had a good day like this in awhile! There was an idle smile on his face as he worked, his arm wasn't sore- there was no warning when his body decided to betray him. No heads up, none of the soreness he had been using as an indicator to avoid breaking things. His left arm jerked, a stinging sensation streaking up his arm, fingers reflexively unclenching-

The only thing he could think as the beaker shattered on the floor was that he was glad it was empty. The chattering in the room fell silent as everyone turned and just... Stared. It was only for a moment, but it was still unnerving, then Mister Lancer spoke. "Danny, clean up the glass and see me after class- and for the love of Shakespeare, don't handle any more of the glassware."

That... that hurt to hear, in a way Danny couldn't explain. Sure, it made sense- why let someone handle fragile things when there was a chance of it breaking?- but that limited his ability to participate. Was he just going to be forced to watch everyone and do nothing whenever they had lab? The frustration spiked, causing the teen to pause and take a breath as he felt tears prickling his eyes. It was an accident, it wasn't his fault! Still, he managed to take care of the glass without getting any cuts.

There was a feeling of quiet dread, though, when he stayed back after everyone else was dismissed. Was this the final straw or something? Or would it be yet another lecture? He'd been getting a lot of those recently, on top of all the detentions when Mister Lancer decided he'd had enough of Danny dozing in class. It was a complete shock, but also a weight off his shoulders when he heard the magic words, "Calm down, you're not in trouble." So no detentions, and no consequences, fantastic! But of course it couldn't end there. "We just need to talk about something."

Right, of course, his teacher wouldn't hold him back just to say he wasn't in trouble. Still, the moment of silence where it looked like the man was actually thinking about what to say? Terrifying. It was like when his parents gave him The Talk, and while he knew Mister Lancer wouldn't do that it didn't decrease the nerves. "I won't ask for any details, but clearly something has happened."

That was not good- sure, Danny didn't think it was being guessed that he was Phantom, but the fact his exhaustion made someone think that something bad had happened meant he'd probably need to come up with some sort of cover, maybe lie about a lingering flu-

"I have been harsh due to believing you were slacking off, but if this is a genuine problem, it's my job as an educator to make sure any special requirements you have are met." Wait- waitwaitwait, that was as good as an apology from the man! It was impossible not to look at him with wide eyes, but no, it was too good to be true, unfortunately.

"Now, the ban on you handling glassware will exist and stay in place-" That was one of the worst things Mister Lancer could have said. That would effectively ban him from participating in labs, removing the fun parts that made science his favorite class! It was just one accident, it wasn't his fault! It wasn't fair! "-however, you will be given paper assignments you can fill out instead of doing the lab. Partner with someone and watch the experiment, then fill out the sheet your given."

That felt like being kicked when he was down! He couldn't actually participate, but he'd be forced to watch others do things without being able to join in, and then he'd have to write about what he saw! Danny didn't want that, especially because writing causes his hand to cramp severely, no matter which hand he uses! Usually he would be upset, yeah, but... it felt borderline tragic. It had been his first truly good day in a long while, everything was going perfectly, why did something have to go wrong! And Mister Lancer was still talking.

"Every time you submit a written assignment, I would like you to stay back and help me read it; your handwriting is like another language to me. Understood?" It felt like there was something trapped in his throat, to the point it felt hard to breathe, doing his best not to cry as he nodded. On top of not being able to participate in lab, he'd always have to stay back after every end-of-day class because his teacher couldn't even read his handwriting anymore! Why was everything going wrong?!

"Good. You're dismissed." It took all of Danny's effort to choke out the words expected of him, "Thank you." It took all of his effort not to run as he stepped out of the classroom and started walking to his locker to get his bag. He felt a sick, squirming feeling in his stomach, mind twisting itself in knots after that interaction.

And last but not least, there was Dash. The bane of his school life, the closest thing his human half had to a mortal enemy other than Vlad. It seemed like he upped the mockery of his appearance- "Did you run into that lunch ghost on the way here, or do you always end up dumping food on yourself?" "Is it a hurricane out there or did you not bother to brush your hair?" "Jeez Fentoad, you're makin' it too easy if your trip yourself on your own laces!"

Sure, he wasn't the neatest-looking person around, but Danny didn't think it was that bad. Maybe it was because his mind had been looping around after the mini-meeting with Mister Lancer, but he never really focused on his food when eating, and that often led to spilling food. As for laces, it just felt like more effort than it was worth the retie his shoes every single time they came undone- they never seemed to stay in place anymore! But it was just so tiring, dealing with the taunts and jabs, the sore wrists and occasional busted lips from tripping that took forever to heal...

Eventually, Danny stopped jabbing back. Maybe it was because Sam wasn't there to keep encouraging him that that trouble was worth it, maybe it was his own exhaustion, but there were no more verbal responses to the taunts, nothing more than a huff when being shoulder-checked made him stumble. Dash seemed to be getting bored, though that didn't decrease how often he decided to be a pointless jerk all at once. The blonde was determined to drag him down it seemed, though. In the normal day-to-day, the taunting and shoving was decreased, but on the rare occasion Danny was having a good day? Everything went back to normal, and it sucked!

When he wasn't having a good day, though? Everyone was acting like he was sick- he wouldn't say diseased, though, since they didn't avoid him or anything, but the changes in how people looked at him and sometimes even interacted with him was. Conversations that suddenly dropped when he entered a classroom, people whispering to each other every time he passed by, barely concealed looks of pity. The weirdest part? Even Wes was giving him space! Wes! Explained with a handwave and a 'Obviously you can't be Phantom in your condition'. What did that even mean?!

Danny couldn't wait for Sam to get back, maybe she could help figure things out, everything felt like it had become twisted and everyone was acting like it was normal, he was going to go mad at this rate!

Previous Next

[commsroom]

Do you enjoy t4t eiffera headcanons because I just think they have t4t vibes

oh, i feel SO guilty for this one... i've actually been trying to write a post about why eiffel/hera as a cis guy/trans woman relationship resonates with me... like, the things that make hera read as trans to me are canonically things eiffel does not experience and is often kinda ignorant about. a big part of their relationship development relies on eiffel learning to decenter his own perspective and recognize that certain things will impact hera more profoundly because of who she is. eiffel reads as especially cis to me in a way that not many characters do, and part of it is... it's not that his backstory, lack of self-awareness, or various other faults could only belong to a cis guy, but those things would read very differently if they were written with any other intent. in eiffel's pop culture worldview, he conceptualizes himself as the everyman, the 'default' person, and i think there's something very intentional that's being deconstructed, with that context.

that said, though: i know how personal trans headcanons can be, and if you resonate with eiffel in that way, i think that's wonderful.