#Shell Way

[snaileer]

I’m a Size Medium, Thanks.

Danny is irritated. No actually he is beyond irritated. He is annoyed, he is frustrated, he is…. He’s really fricking irritated and can’t be bothered to remember any more of Jazz’s SAT words.

He continues his glare out the window as he searches for his straw with his mouth.

He just- where is it- thinks it’s a stupid fricking-stupid ass milkshake-he shouldn’t have to basically-gah! Danny snaps his head down to find his suddenly missing straw, only to successfully poke it directly into his eye.

“Ow! Fricken-“ He groans, throwing his head back, and putting his hands to his face, “Mother-tucker, Holy Taming of A Shrew!” He pounds his free hand not cradling his eye on the table, trying not to make more of a scene. Of course, this utterly fails because it immediately tips over his milkshake glass with a clatter as it spills onto his pants, making him jump up with enough force to knock the table over and drop the milkshake glass the rest of the way to the floor.

Danny stares at it with blurry vision and a watery eye. He sighs, “At least-“

The glass shatters.

Danny sighs again, deeper. “Of course.”

He looks up at the restaurant around him. Noticing the many, many people staring at him.

Wonderful.

Danny grimaces, “Sorry, I so didn’t mean for that to happen, uh-“ Danny reaches to straighten the table, fumbling for a second before it stands upright, he steps away from it, “If there’s any way I can help or.. like fix it. I can pay for the cup..” a server comes over to him, “if you want..?”

The server’s dead eyes don’t waver as they silently place a wet floor sign over the spilled milkshake.

“Thanks.”

“Uh huh.”

The server walks away, leaving Danny to sigh all on his own. He leans over to grab his backpack from the booth, checking it over for milkshake before slinging it on his back, thankfully clean.

He makes it one step forward before he feels the floor go out from under him. Ah gravity. His greatest enemy. This is karma for all those times he’s ignored it, isn’t it?

The wind is knocked out of him when his back slams to the floor, cushioned by the dulcet sounds of his bag crunching against broken glass.

He looks up at the wet floor sign.

The man on the yellow plastic mocks him.

Danny sighs.

He curses his stupid luck.

He curses this stupid city.

Then he curses himself because he knows any of this stupid city’s curses end up affecting him anyways.

Danny gets to his feet, ignoring the feeling of milkshake on his hands and his… everywhere.

He trudges out of the diner without looking back. At least he’d already paid for it.

He grimaces at the milkshake handprint on the door, trying to wipe it away with his shirt and only succeeding in making it worse.

Danny catches the eyes of the server inside, staring at him, eyes progressively more annoyed.

Danny puts his hands up in surrender and backs away.

Directly into a person. Only his milkshake covered self prevents him from being hit with anything more than the man’s scathing glare.

He puts his hands back up and moves away to dodge everybody else on the sidewalk. Along with the occasional ghost. Visible only to him of course.

By the time he has managed to escape the sidewalks into an alley, he is certain there is a trail of slightly sticky businessmen behind him.

Danny crouches to swing his backpack down in front of him and take stock. Okay, he could put his sweatshirt on over it… but it would also get ruined… damn it.

Danny looks around, checking every inch of the alley for cameras and then backing himself into a corner just to be safe. The flicker of intangibility is barely noticeable except for the wet squelch of milkshake remnants dropping to the alley floor. Lovely.

And of course, the flash of every single Gotham ghost in the area becoming visible and almost tangible for a split second. Also… lovely. There’s a couple startled shouts on the street.

Maybe an alleyway was not the best place for that.

Danny slides his sweatshirt on over his shirt to at least pretend like he was covering a mess and then shimmies out of the alley while trying to make as little contact with ghosts as possible.

He’s almost completely certain he looks crazy as all get out if the stare he gets from a passerby means anything.

Of course… now he’s left glaring across the street again.

He can feel the Infini-Map burning a hole in his backpack. It said this was the next place a natural portal would open and get him back home.

It just didn’t say… when that portal would open.

But of course, it’ll be right in the middle of somebody’s store. Usually not an issue. Except again, this stupid city’s curses are attracted to his energy, so of course the store couldn’t be literally ANYTHING ELSE!

Danny glares at the stupid fricking sign and the stupid predictable pun and the stupid neon hand in the front window waving at him.

‘The Claire Witch Project: psychic, medium, and Claire-voyant’

Danny is on day three of simultaneously avoiding the entire building while remaining close enough he can be there when the portal forms.

He is dirty, tired, and running out of money. In short, Danny is starting to lose hope on this endeavor.

The worst part?

He has the perfect solution.

There’s a pathetic little piece of printer paper taped to the inside of the window.

‘Help wanted’

When he’d first gotten here, Danny had followed the infini-map all the way to this horrific city, seen the sign, and turned a quick 180. He’d rather die again thanks.

He’d smacked into two billboards just coming into the city, and there was literally no stars, why would he want to stay here till the portal opened when he could just find another?

Except.. Danny’s eye twitches dangerously as he thinks back on it- except there wasn’t another portal. This was it. For the foreseeable future, he either caught this portal or was stranded for whoever knows how much longer.

Danny sighs again and dreads his continued existence. He looks both ways on the street, takes a step forward, nearly gets run over, steps back, and turns for the nearest crosswalk.

Fine. He could follow rules if it meant increasing his chances of leaving.

He tries to hold in the sigh this time, he really does, he swears.

Not the one before he opens the shop door though, that sigh deserved freedom from his trials. It joins the myriad of whispy translucent shades lingering in the store. Because of course there was just enough spiritual energy in here for them to be visible to him.

“Hey there!” A girl in loose fitting colorful clothing appears from behind a corner, “I’m Claire! How can I help your life journey today?” He can see the way her bulky crystal hair accessories sway with her movements. What was he getting into here again?

Danny tries to ignore the incense shoving itself up his nose as he speaks, “Hey, I was…” He was really doing this huh? “Hoping that the help wanted position is still available?”

The girl looks him over as she moves to the back of the checkout counter. The clear observation makes him nervous, and he takes his hands out of his pockets to try and look marginally more… candidate-able.

“You have experience?”

“Sure d-“ He wants to throw up in his own mouth, ancients this is so cringe, just let him die, “Sure do!” He says through choked back vomit and false cheer, “I’m a…” -barf- “I’m a medium.”

“Oh don’t worry about that, you don’t need a uniform, I don’t need your size silly!”

Danny blinks. What? Also. What?

“Wait-I’m hired?”

Claire pauses from getting something from under the counter, “Didn’t I already say that?”

“Uh…” Danny’s eyes dart around the shop, “No?”

“Oh well, you are, you have the right vibes, don’t worry,” she slides a few papers onto the glass counter, and Danny is abruptly, horrifically reminded he has no legal documents to speak of here. He thinks. He hasn’t actually checked.

Crap.

“Of course, most of my clients pay in cash, so I’ll pay you in cash too just to make it easier, and any crystal sales I’ll just add to it. Sound good?”

“Sure?” Oh no, is this gonna be Danny’s first real job? “But I don’t know anything about crystals. I have a goth friend but she’s not into that stuff.”

Claire waves his comment away, “Oh no worries, I can leave a packet.”

Danny nods, “Thank- wait, sorry. Leave?”

Claire laughs, pulling out a bag from behind her counter, “Yes I leave for a trip in two days. Family things you know,”

Danny feels like his brain is being scrambled, “Oh, what, what happened? Is everything okay?”

Claire looks at him, blinking wide, “What? Why would anything have happened?”

“Because… you said, you were leaving for-“

“Just don’t want to get caught in a bad position, you know how it is.”

Some of the shades stir in the air, their misty movements twitching with agitation enough to draw his eye for a second.

“Right. Well I’m glad I came when I did then,” Danny says, because he still doesn’t want to be rude.

Claire smiles at him.

Danny pats his hands against his sides awkwardly, trying not to look up at the movement of the shades intertwined with incense smoke at the ceiling.

There’s a little jingle behind him, which he belatedly realizes is the door when Claire moves to greet them before he can even turn around.

“Ms. Jives! Wonderful to see you! How’s the goldfish?”

Ms. Jives turns out to be a slightly older woman, maybe early seventies with a cane but she looks good. The coffee brown hair is almost certainly a dye job but it frames her wrinkled face well.

“Oh Jim is lovely dear, much better this way, I bought him a new plant just the other day, he just loves it.”

“Good, here for your reading right?”

“I am! But you can finish up with your customer first if you need,” Ms. Jives says. Claire waves her concern away.

“No need, this is Danny, I just hired him, he has a similar mystical connection.”

“Oh that’s lovely,” Ms. Jives says as she passes by him, “Would you like to come with dear? Claire is going to do a reading for me.”

Danny grimaces, “Sure.”

In the end, by the time Ms. Jives makes it slowly to the back room, Danny is trying to think of where he’s gonna sleep tonight. He mostly zones out when Claire dims the lights and starts talking nonsense.

All he heard was “something something card, something something magician something reversed something something balance something something chihuahua.”

Ok, maybe he wasn’t listening. But he was trying to focus on not staring at the movement of the shades, and the incense was mega strong and Claire had some weird ass music playing. He’s almost certain she’s faking everything. Down to the atrociously bright bead earrings.

Danny sags when she finishes, all too happy to leave the weird little curtain covered room.

He stands in the front awkwardly while Ms. Jives pays, twiddling with the various crystals and trying to figure which ones are actually y’know.. mystical or whatever.

Answer? Surprisingly most of them. That he could tell, at least, but it’s not like he actually knows how to sense that out on purpose. He’s pretty sure a couple of the heart shaped rose quartzes are complete duds but what does he care.

He’s thoroughly bored by the time Claire calls him back over. Apparently to tell him that he’ll do a reading tomorrow.

“Tomorrow?!” Danny blurts, “Don’t you want to like- I don’t know, make sure I can- or like.. I don’t know, but tomorrow?”

Claire just smiles at him, “I believe you can handle it, trust me.”

‘Trust you? Lady, I just met you and you’ve been nothing but crazy the whole time!’ Danny wants to say, instead, he keeps his mouth shut and nods with what he’s sure is fear in his eyes.

Then she’s pressing something into his hands and when he looks down it’s a key. A key. There’s no way-

“So be here 9am sharp, Danny! You can open up and I’ll come in later!” Claire starts pushing him towards the door, “And Mr. Wayne should be waiting for you when you get here!”

Danny turns around to catch himself in the doorframe, “Mr who will be what now!? Wait, Ms. Claire, Ma’am- why-!” He stops to lower his volume and ask politely, “Why am I doing this? You don’t even know me,” Danny says, one leg still in the store.

Claire smiles, “Because the universe told me to silly! See you tomorrow! Here’s my number!” Then she slaps a sticky note to his chest with enough finality that Danny takes a step back. The door closes with a click and ring of the bell inside.

Danny stares at the door with his eye twitching for at least a minute.

What the hell did ‘the universe told me to’ even mean, you kook!?

Danny sighs and looks down at the sticky note, quickly inputting the number in his phone before something happens to it.

He’s barely hit save when he finally steps away from the shop front and…. is immediately drenched to the bone.

Because apparently it’d been pouring rain and he simply hadn’t noticed from under the awning.

He watches as blue ink slides off the sticky note in little sad face streaks.

Danny sighs.

[qoppybirdie]

it the mgs2 day

[dangans-ur-ronpas]

happy pride month

[heartorbit]

holy quintet looks kind of different

[fifthnailinstevesbat]

steve “cant get out of bed till middle of the day, barely leaves his house or is never home, isolating himself from everyone, never takes time for himself anymore, depressed and is slowly losing more and more of himself every single day” harrington post 1986’

robin “i know you loved her, and it must’ve killed that she wouldn’t take you back, but nancy is happy steve and she still loves you. she’s not the only one out there for you, and you’ve gotta get over it. we miss you” buckley post 1986’, trying to help her best friend

steve “…this isn’t about nancy” harrington.

robin “wha-?… oh. oh steve.” buckley.

he still wears the vest.

[daredevil-vagabond]

"You are far too nice // Mercy has a price"

[Ruthlessness; Jorge Rivera-Herrans]

Nautilus Jason.

[14dayswithyou]

HIYA ! I don't think I've shared this on Tumblr, but here's a WIP of Mer Ren's new design!! Under da cut because of spoilers + I'm not done with the final design yet >:3

[starry-songs-canvas]

Fenton-Proved Kryptonite!

Sorry for the lack of prompt last week, been sick.

——————————————————

Lex Luthor had sent a representative for LexCorp, instead of coming to Vlad Masters himself.

Rude, but smart.

But this imbecile can’t seem to hold a simple business conversation! (No ghostly interference needed) Starring at his most recent attempt of a bust of his dear Madeline, (a good improvement from his previous endeavor, but even Vlad will admit it’s… slight imperfections. If only he could capture her essence as well as he does her idiot husband! At least those give him some stress relief.)

“I apologize for boring you, however I do happen to believe these major details are rather important.” Vlad growls.

“I- I apologize sir, but if I may ask, where did you get so much kryptonite?!” The representative chokes out.

Tl:DR, Vlad’s machines make kryptonite as a byproduct, which he then ice sculpts into Jack Fentons head. Imagine this, if you will.

[whump-in-the-closet]

what are ur fav tropes for stoic whumpees? love da blog

stoic whumpee tropes that are a 100/10:

"I'm fine" and then immediately collapsing in front of their loved ones in a bleeding pile, revealing a hidden injury that has festered for far too long

silent, muffled crying with shaking shoulders and a bloody hand clamped over their mouth because they view crying as weak and beneath them and they're stronger than this, they're stronger, they can take it--

the moment they close their eyes in defeat and it's all over and they fucking know it, and when they open their eyes again all that remains is a glassy-dead stare

adamantly refusing medical treatment even when they need it. Shoving away everyone who comes close to them, a choked sound in their throat, fighting back with everything that's left in them.

when they kneel at Whumper's feet, eyes on the ground, white-lipped and tense. The only betrayal of emotion is their clenched fists and tight breathing. In every other way, they're compliant.

refusing to talk about what they endured at Whumper's hands after they're rescued, but the scars tell the story for them. They don't have to say a word, but their team's pitying gaze follows them wherever they go

normally unaffectionate and distant but exhausted and defeated they rest their head on Caretaker's shoulder or Whumper's lap, just finally admitting--nonverbally-- that they can't take it

reversely, more willing to be tortured than to ask for help-- If I'm breathing, I'm fine

stitching their own wounds back up with an unsteady hand, painful stitch after painful stitch. Deep breath and pull. Working in a dimly lit apartment with bleeding clothes on the floor around them and the bed unmade

sacrificing themself for their team. "Take me! Do what you want to me. Not them." And their team watching as the torture takes its slow toll and Whumpee-- the one they look up-- falls apart.

[mutantmayhems]

they mean so much to me

[scumvillainess]

time travel au where a post-pidw shen qingqiu somehow travels back in time (either through death, the magic that still remains in yqy’s sword, etc.) to when he was the head disciple of qing jing peak.

of course, being able to travel back in time doesn’t come without a heavy price and in this case, shen qingqiu ends up having to give up the ability to feel emotions as an equivalent exchange to being brought back to the past.

shen qingqiu of course thinks this is the greatest gift that he’s ever been given and quickly moves on with his life. everyone else (read: yue qingyuan, liu qingge, etc.) on the other hand, is appropriately freaked out by this new version of shen qingqiu who just doesn’t seem to care anymore about anything or anyone.

[alexturntable]

🥽

[hamable]

I need Brennan to win an award. I need the world to know how exceptional a storyteller he is. How do you plan something like this?

I’m suddenly seeing the rat grinders as a sort of self insert for him. Not character-wise, but as tools for writing a mystery. Usually you start with the solution and work backwards. Brennan had to concoct this solution and prepare for every possible thing that the best DnD players he’s ever known might do to crack his story wide open. He needed an entire party of character foils whose primary goal was to cover their tracks and account for periphery details to outsmart The Bad Kids. An unfathomable amount of work to be able to tell this story at the pace it’s being told.

I found myself remarking earlier in the season how much planning and foreknowledge he had to have to have the variety of dome projections from @caitmayart he does and now I realize that’s just scratching the surface.

[yorshie]

[aq2003]

ten is aroace for this one sorry society