#struggling for struggling's sake

[justatalkingface]

The 'Great' MHA Read Along, Part Two (Chapters 5-7): The Aizawa-ing.

*checks last post, gets more than one like*

*blinks*

Huh. Well. OK then. Let's do another one, I guess.

And, literally the first panel? Bakugou. Wow, Bakugou is so great, so strong...

Bakugou scored zero rescue points. Zero. He was the only one, as far as we know, to get zero points and still pass... and that doesn't concern you at all? Considering most people didn't almost die like Izuku and Ochako, then the bar for 'rescue points' honestly must have been in the ground, like helping someone when they fell or something. And here, in UA, an elite school for Heroes, whose job is to save people, Bakugou scored zero rescue points. Like, I don't expect him to not get in over this, but it'd be nice if, instead of everyone fawning over him, from literally page one, someone could go, 'Hey, I don't like the looks of that'.

Then we transition to Izuku and All Might, and I guess that answers the question of, 'Why couldn't All Might help Izuku get in?': because he knew Izuku wouldn't want that.

I. I'm actually not sure of that? He wouldn't want attention, at least. But whatever, ultimately, the problem I have with that is All Might literally just dropped him in the exam with absolutely zero Quirk experience when, from all accounts, he could helped him get in somehow, Mr. Number One Hero, but....

Alright, bear with me a second. In theory, letting him earn his way is fine, but in practice, there's no fucking way Izuku should have passed if he didn't accidently crack the morality cheat for this exam, and it doesn't take a rocket scientist to realize this. At the same time, though, it's clear he doesn't deserve to be recommended student, yet, because again, he's a total noob, and I doubt he'd pass that exam, either, since it's just a giant race.

I think, ultimately, the problem here is Izuku is in a position where there's no reasonable way for him to pass, period. And I can't really blame anyone other than Hori, since, you know, author, and it goes back to what I said last time about he just set up Izuku to struggle for struggling's sake. And the thing is, he could still have had a hard time at at exam, but not have been so damn helpless about it; I mean, in all honesty the only reason Uraraka survived (as far as we can tell those robots are not safety proofed) is that he just so happened to have his Baby's First Quirk moment at that very moment, and since his Quirk is on the level of a fucking god he accidentallyed a robot that could step on a fucking Gundam. If it wasn't for protagonist level plot armor, in other words, Ochako should be dead, which... is a realization. Izuku has no way to fight the robots, or win the race, other then exploding himself, and this setup, for someone who is theoretically supported by the most powerful and influential man in the country, who is literally on the staff, doesn't really make sense. It'd be one thing if was literally nobody, but he's not: he's All Might's apprentice and heir. He is the exact opposite of nobody, but the story never really treats his situation like that; it be easy enough for them to swing it as him being Heroic royalty if All Might and Izuku were more pretentious (you could debate about the destabilizing effect of that, but all things considered All Might retiring and/or having an heir before everything went to shit actually could have been helpful, even if it made Izuku's life infinitely more complicated).

I just don't like that whole situation, basiclly, both with Izuku's capabilities and how hands off All Might suddenly is when he was helping him train daily literally to the actual day of the exam.

And then All Might admits he saw the problem of Izuku's control coming and did... nothing about that. Is. Is the reason All Might is inside OFA because it took his entire personality on the way out? A few chapters ago he was worried about Izuku exercising too hard, and now he's all, 'It's fine', with this apocalyptically powerful Quirk? And, now that it's established that there is a problem with his control, why isn't he trying to help with that problem? Like... at all?

See, this is what I was talking about last time: Arc One All Might is this committed, focused trainer who is expertly pushing Izuku's body just a hair from his absolutely limits on the daily and devotes large portions of his time to helping him improve. Arc Two All Might is just letting him blow up his arms for no apparent reason, while barely ever having time for the child with the legacy of his teacher and like, the primeval spirit of heroics inside him.

And, to top it off, there's the knowledge that he's never going to recover from this change; it only get worse from this point on.

Good bye, Competent Might. I'll miss you.

...And, here's Bakugou. And, with peerless Bakugou Logic (TM), even though he's in the best heroic school period, he's still treating his classmates as extras. Literally.

Pause here; random tangent time.

You know, early Bakugou's story has the shape of a 'big fish in a little pond' story, but have you realized his Quirk is perfect for that as well?

So, the thing is Explosion is a good Quirk, but it's just that: good. It's better than... seventy, eighty percent of Quirks we see, than most of his classmates. Then there's presumably another ten percent of equal Quirks, somewhere....

And then that last ten percent make Explosion look like kid shit. It's hard to remember with how chronically underused it is, but Momo's Quirk is terrifying with some work. I would bet that there's a chemical that neutralizes nitro she could pull out, which would neatly defang Bakugou, for example. Or, a blast of water, to get rid of his sweat, so there's nothing for him to blow up. Or, his actual, canon weakness, cold; fire extinguishers, anyone?

And that's not even mentioning Shoto. And this isn't later story Shoto, who is a side character in his own story, oh no, this is Earlyroki, who can solo the entire class with minimal effort on his part (except Izuku, but that's the starting point of their relationship, Shoto acknowledge him as a potential threat). This is Shoto before the nerfs rolled in.

The set up for the 'small pond' shit is honestly perfect, but Hori just never commits to it. Worse yet, to get around the limits he put in on Bakugou's Quirk, he just... starts breaking his own rules, all the way back with the Sports Festival (coming... at some point!), and it's super disappointing when you realize how great this could have been for realigning Bakugou's ego.

...Alright. Got off track there. Let's stop talking about Bakugou, and start talking about Iida! Iida who apologizes, and acknowledges Izuku! Iida who calls out Bakugou on his shit! Far more wholesome.

And then Uraraka shows up, and I'm pretty sure this is the end of his, 'OMG a girl I literally can't talk' phase, but again, nice to see someone acknowledge Izuku's existence and not hate him...

Ah, Bakugou flashback. I don't hate this, for once, because while it's Bakugou's flashback, it's about Izuku, and his growth, and him standing up for himself, even a little bit. Self affirmation is always nice to see...

And there's a homeless man who broke in! How talented. Wait, that's not a homeless man, that's just an adult who doesn't give a shit about personal hygiene!

(If you're new here, welcome to my blog. As you may have realized, I am not an Aizawa stan.)

(And yes, Bakugou, you tell that ball to die. How dare it be round!)

Welcome, everyone to Eraserhead Land, a world where you don't need to know things like where the consoler is, because mental health for law enforcement personal armed with dangerous superpowers is for losers! Welcome ceremony? Feeling accomplishment about getting into a top school? Possibly learning important things when everyone is gathered in one place? Naaah. If you're not stressed, miserable, and on edge, you're not doing it right!

To those unfamiliar with my posts, you may think I'm joking. I'm not.

Literally, the whole, 'Last place gets expelled bit'? Is because the kids were excited. All Might confirms that, yes, Aizawa absolutely would have kicked someone out.

Dadzawa Fans: 'Ah yes, the "Aizawa Critical" theory. The idea that Dadzawa is false and that the man in question is in fact deeply flawed and acts in incredibly traumatizing and Quirkist ways that should have massive negative repercussions on everyone he has ever taught. We have dismissed this claim.'

Me, deadass watching Aizawa prepare to kick someone out of school because some kids were happy: *blinks in visible confusion*

...This is a man in deep need of therapy. Which probably explains his views on guidance counselors.

Oh, and then Izuku neatly sums up my problem with how his life goes, that can basiclly be applied at any given moment : "My (insert normal thing here) has turned into a huge ordeal!"

Anyways, time for a bunch of tests that, by design, Eraserhead could never pass. And of course, we can't go five minutes (or five seconds, sometimes), without yet another demonstration of how unreasonable Bakugou is, what with him blasting Izuku in the race, which is actual sabotage.

Aizawa... sees no problem with this, apparently. Give it a couple of years, and we'll see an enterprising class take that to its logical conclusion, and murder and/or maim one or more of their fellow classmates for the win!

And now we have a flashback where, surprisingly (? I'm not actually sure if that should be surprising at this point) All Might actually tried to advise Izuku... by basiclly telling him to dial it back, but otherwise to figure it out himself.

You.... You had this Quirk. This exact Quirk. Why is your advice so useless?

Then we have a single panel of the long jump where I half think Bakugou ended up sabotaging Izuku again; why are these kids doing all these at the same time, again?

And then it comes out: Aizawa had already singled out Izuku, even before class, for him passing the exam at all, which didn't 'make sense'.

(With how the exam was set up, Izuku could have passed with minimal stress on his part if he just helped people instead of trying to deal with the robots all. Unironically, I don't think you actually need to interact with the robots at all, in the exam about fighting the robots. This is, as far as I can tell, a valid strategy, and it's not Izuku's fault that it rewards people for helping, bloody fuck.)

I'd bet this entire thing was just because of Izuku, so he could bump him out with minimal justification on his part. He flat out says he doesn't like All Might (an 'insufferable' hero) and compares Izuku to him directly. Like, god this is so damn targeted, and we have All Might watching, internally monologuing about how Eraserhead hates him and he's helpless to protect Izuku...

...Some the fuck how. The Number One Hero is helpless to protect his heir from a clearly biased attempt to get rid of him, when the principal is in the know about important he is. And he seems remarkably fine with his student's seemingly impediment expulsion.

'I can't help him! I'm just going to stand here watching from behind a corner instead of making sure Nezu knows how ABSOLUTELY LIVID I'll be if he gets expelled, or preparing to leverage my immense fame and influence to help, or maybe threatening Eraserhead if he takes his dislike of me out on an innocent student! Nope, no way I can contribute here, oh well, sorry for being such a waste of space Izuku, you're on your own.'

...What the fuck is this? This doesn't make sense! I bought into the narrative of this the first time I read it but now that I've stopped to think about it for five seconds this entire arc is collapsing in on itself.

Why did you make Izuku's mentor the most powerful person on the planet, with the ability to command legions of devoted fans, who single handedly changed how an entire country looks at heroes, if you were going to make him so fucking helpless?!

And then, the cherry on top of all of this is Izuku 'grows' by only breaking his finger, and this fills Aizawa with apparent delight.

Bloody hell. Here, let me summarize my impression of Aizawa after reading this arc again:

"The longer Eraserhead is observed, the more terrible a teacher he becomes."

And now we reach the next chapter, where Bakugou promptly attacks Izuku for the crime of having a Quirk, and Aizawa stops him before... whining. About dry eye.

Mr. "I expel entire classes" yet again sees no problem with students fighting each other, apparently, which is more evidence for my Bloody Mist style Class 1-A theory; we already have discount Kakashi, whose entire character is basiclly badly copied copy ninja characterization, so we might as well get young!Zabuza or something as well.

Oh, I almost forgot Aizawa's first lesson to his students: you can never trust anything I say, ever, because I can, and will, lie to you, for no reason at all, at any moment at all, even when what you think are real-life consequences are on the line, and if you fall for it that's your mistake for falling for a 'logical ruse'.

Talk about a trust building exercise, huh? Clearly, this is Best Father Figure.

Meanwhile, can I mention how nonsensical All Might teaching when he has a time limit is? Why the hell is he wasting his waning moments of power, which could be used for so many more important things than standing there while the students gawk at him? Teach as Skele-Might, or watch the security cameras or something.

...Huh. My translation doesn't have 'Dekiru' in it, even though we had Ochaka accidently call Izuku Deku. Was that later or did whoever did this just not put it in...?

Welp. This was immensely frustrating. Good thing the next arc isn't going to have anything at all concerning, SOD breaking, or horrible in it, right?

[inkskinned]

even 2 years ago people still said autism with a whisper. it was also how people sometimes whisper lesbian, like they're afraid of uttering a slur. autistic was either an insult or it was something terrible, a horrible burden only select people endure. "select people" were usually 9 year old boys and skinny white men.

they are not hispanic young adults with a dog and a life and friends. i can make (sustained, calculated, painful) eye contact. with certain people, i don't even have to count how many seconds i am holding their vision - i can just look at them. i can wear clothes that bother me, i will just have a worse day than usual. i might cry about any changes to my schedule - but change is scary! this is normal!

when i was 16 it was OCD. i mean that was the thing everyone said. i totally have ocd. they would arrange 6 colors of gel pen in rainbow order (no worry for indigo feeling left out) and they'd be "so ocd" about it.

if you struggle with intrusive thoughts, be careful at this next paragraph, but. at 16 i developed a compulsion that involved self-harm. my ocd was convinced i was simply forgetting that i'd hurt someone terribly - a thought that persisted for no clear or delineated reason.

at some point i will probably write about how the idea of "morally pure thoughts" was hell for me and others with ocd, but this was the odd dichotomy for many of us: they liked our "aesthetic", but were genuinely repulsed by our lived experience. "intrusive thoughts" now means "cutting your hair in the sink" instead of talking yourself down from believing horrible things. "so ocd" is a label without any true understanding.

it's something i've talked about before - in multiplicity - but i firmly believe in the veracity and necessity of self-diagnosis. i think it saves lives and it saves tragedies from occurring. as someone raised in a house that wasn't safe, self-diagnosis was, for many years, the only viable option. 15 and honestly googling: am i depressed or there demons affecting my behavior.

but it is not genuine self-diagnosis anymore, most of the time. it is a strange, blanched version of that whispered word autism. now certain traits are constantly seen as "autistic" - any passing intense interest. any flubbed social interaction. people say it while laughing - a touch of the 'tism.

and i like the acceptance! i do. i like that people are talking about it. i like that if i self-identify, more people speak up and say me too, bitch. but there is something-else quietly happening, the way it happened to OCD. the quirky, "fun" parts have been washed and sanitized and removed of all suffering. now it is just something that makes you "a little bit silly."

it took me 27 years on this planet before i learned to make friends. something about me just seems incredibly odd, i guess, some kind of radiation monitoring. someone once (in a way that was almost friendly) told me i am doing the right things, but in a way that's off-putting. i have scoured myself raw attempting to be charming.

someone on tiktok does a deep dive into their particular passion. the top comment says "what kind of autism is this lol". like we are a breed of animal. like it has no influence on our experience. like our life is a fresh breeze, an open meadow.

more often for me, life was a drowning.

[luxaofhesperides]

For ghostlights: baby Ellie + tired Danny + Duke the baby whisperer?

He has no idea how his parents did it. 

Babies are exhausting. Toddlers more so. Any infants in the strange stage in-between? Doubly so. 

Ellie is wonderful and sweet and cute and such a terror that Danny genuinely has no idea how his parents managed to raise not one, but two kids. For all their eccentricities and absent-mindedness, he and Jazz turned out pretty well. Ignoring the whole halfa thing because that’s more his fault than theirs even if Jazz says they shouldn’t have created the dangerous environment in the first place.

That environment is exactly why Danny refuses to let Ellie go to his house in Amity Park. His parents say they’ve disabled all the weapons and ecto-sensors since he’s had to reveal himself as Phantom, but he knows that things slip their minds and if they can’t guarantee that the house is safe, then Ellie isn’t going in there. Simple as that. 

This means that they live somewhere else now. Danny had thought about it, during the hours Ellie was asleep and he was awake, exhausted and worn down to his bones, and took Jazz’s advice to accept Vlad’s offer of buying a house for him. Except he argued Vlad down to an apartment in a city of his choosing where he wouldn’t stand out too much and he would be safe, or as safe as he can be, from anyone trying to hunt down ghosts. 

So here they are. Standing in the empty living room of their new apartment in Gotham. 

Gotham may not be very safe as a city, but it’s good for two ghosts trying to pass as normal. 

Danny sighs yet again, and looks at the space he’ll need to fill. At least Vlad is footing the bill. It’s the least he can do for creating Ellie. Frostbite was the one who was able to stabilize her, though it was almost too late and resulted in her reforming as a baby, just one and a half years old. Jazz is the one who’s choosing most of the furniture, thankfully, so it’s something that Danny doesn’t need to worry about it.

It’s a new start to their lives and it feels so empty. So overwhelming. How did his parents do it? How do any parents do it?

Ellie smacks a small palm against his cheek and babbles lightly.

“I know, Ellie,” Danny says, giving her a tired smile. “Don’t worry, we’ll have this place looking good in no time.”

He adjusts her in his arms, then heads towards the bedroom. It’s the only room that has any furniture, and all that’s there is a bed, a crib, and a bookcase. There are a few boxes on the floor, labeled ‘bedroom’ and ‘clothing’ and ‘books’. Most of it came from his bedroom in Amity Park, but he’s pretty sure he caught Jazz sneaking a few things in before they closed the boxes and loaded them up into the car. 

“Can you be good for five minutes?” he asks Ellie. 

She babbles again and smacks his shoulder.

“I’m taking that as an agreement. Just let me open these boxes and start unpacking before you start causing trouble, okay?”

Ellie makes another sound, but it seems agreeable so Danny carefully lays her down in the crib and gets to peeling off the tape on the boxes. The opens the one labeled ‘bedroom’ first, finding blankets and sheets folded and stacked in vacuum sealed bags. One of them is his old childhood blanket, the one he carried around everywhere that was faded with age, barely blue, with white bunnies decorating it. 

He was so small when he had this. It makes him oddly emotional to unpack it and pass it on to Ellie, draping it over her so her pudgy little hands can grab at it. 

This is no time to cry, though! He forces himself to focus and makes his own bed, shaking out the sheets and fluffing up the pillows. He’ll worry about washing everything later; Vlad made sure to get an apartment with an in-unit washer and dryer, which means he was actually sensible while apartment hunting for Danny. 

He doesn’t mean to flop onto the bed once it’s made, but he ends up there anyways. He’s barely gotten a full six hours of uninterrupted sleep since Frostbite deemed Ellie healthy enough to leave his care. The drive up to Gotham was long and wore him down to his bones.

He doesn’t mean to fall asleep, but he does, drifting off as he wonders, distantly, when Jazz will be back from getting them dinner.

Ellie wakes him up at dawn with a loud cry. Danny jolts awake, heart pounding in his chest as he panics because Ellie isn’t here, she’s supposed to be in his arms, where is she? And then he sees the crib, where Ellie is staring at him through the bars, and he nearly collapses with relief. 

“Morning, El,” he says, voice rough from sleep, as he picks her up. She just stares up at him, then leans forward and rests her head against his shoulder.

It’s quiet moments like these that make his heart melt. Ellie’s had a hard life already; he wants to give her a better one, this time around. 

A quick check of the time on his nearly dead phone shows that it’s barely past six in the morning, and Jazz texted him a few times. All about furniture, saying that she didn’t want to wake them and that food is in the fridge. 

It’s only the mention of food that makes him realize how ravenous he’s feeling. Danny makes a beeline for the kitchen, ignoring everything else, and pulls out the boxes of take-out Jazz left stacked in the fridge. He devours it like he’s been starving for weeks, then gives Ellie her Ecto-Jello, the only food she’s allowed to eat until Frostbite gives the okay for solid, human food. 

Once he’s got her burped and cleaned up, Danny looks out of the kitchen and realizes that Jazz was very productive while he was asleep. The living room isn’t empty anymore; a dark green couch is against the wall, a low, rectangular coffee table made of dark wood in front of it. Two armchairs are on both sides of the couch, and a television has been installed, fixed into the wall. 

Jazz is asleep on the couch. Her legs hang off an armrest and she’s drooling slightly. 

Her phone is charging on the floor, so Danny takes it and snaps a picture of her for later teasing, then sends it to himself and writes a note to her that he’s going out with Ellie to explore the neighborhood.

He’s finally feeling more settled, energized from sleep and food.

In the warm dawn light spilling in through the windows, Danny looks down at Ellie and thinks that they’ll be just fine after all. 

. . .

Four months ago, Danny had hope. He was optimistic. 

Gotham was a fresh start, a new lease of life for Ellie. It is Danny’s attempt to be a single parent, sacrificing college for Ellie, and he’s planning to go out and beat the gangs black and blue if they start anymore shootouts in the next year.

He had just gotten Ellie to sleep. She was actually peacefully taking a nap.

And then a drive by shooter raced down the street, gunshots echoing down the road, and Ellie work up crying. She still hasn’t stopped, despite how Danny rocked her, soothing her as best he could.

They had been outside when Ellie fell asleep, her head on his shoulder. He had been catching up with Sam and Tucker when the car drove by, people ducking and crying out to avoid the bullets. Danny instinctively covered Ellie and made them both intangible, saving them from any stray bullets, but they ruined her nap and he needs to make them pay for that. 

“Shh,” he soothes, “You’re okay. We’re both fine. It’s okay, El, it’s okay.” 

Her little hands clutch at his back, twisting the fabric of his shirt, and she lets out a heartbreaking wail. He pats her back, hurrying down the street to get back to his apartment building, ignoring the looks people were giving them as they passed by. 

“I know it was scary, but you’re alright. You’re always safe with me, El.”

Ellie’s cries down down a little, but they don’t stop. She whimpers, burying her face against his shoulder as he finally reaches their apartment building.

The door’s locked, which wouldn’t be a problem except Danny can’t get his keys from his pocket. He knows he has them! But his pocket refuses to relinquish them and he has to stop every few seconds to pat Ellie’s back, trying in vain to calm her down. 

“We’ll be inside in a second,” he tells her, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice, “as soon as I can get these freaking keys!”

“Hey, you alright?”

Danny startles, whirling around so fast it makes Ellie go quiet, clinging to him so she doesn’t get flung into the air. There’s a guy standing before him in a gray hoodie, looking at him with clear concern. It speaks to Danny’s level of constant exhaustion that he hadn’t clocked someone sneaking up behind him. 

The guy offers an awkward smile. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you or anything. Um, do you need me to open to door? I live here too.”

Danny wonders for a moment if this someone dangerous, someone hoping to hurt Ellie, but she starts to cry again and he steps to the side. “Please. I can’t get my keys.”

“I’m Duke, by the way. I don’t think I’ve seen you around here before.”

“Danny,” he replies, watching as Duke pulls out a large key ring, jangling with the amount of keychains on it, and easily opens the door. “I’ve been here a few months, but I’m usually inside. Or walking around in the mornings with this little monster.”

“That would explain it,” Duke says as he holds the door open, letting Danny in first. “I’m usually in classes at GCU, but I decided to take a mental health day after my lab, so here I am.”

Danny walks in and waits for Duke to follow, making sure the door closes properly behind them. “Thanks. How is GCU? What do you study? I was thinking of going there myself once she gets a little older and can go to school.”

“Oh, I’m majoring in English and Human Services.” He goes to say more, but Ellie wails again and Danny winces.

“I’m so sorry. That drive by woke her up and it’s really rattled her.”

“Hey, no need to apologize. I get it, Gotham is rough to kids.”

Danny tries rocking her back and forth, but it doesn’t help. He resigns himself to another hour of her crying before she exhausts herself, and makes for the stairs, going up to the fourth floor. Duke holds open the door again, then follows after them. It makes Danny wonder if Duke is planning to do something to them, then decides he can beat Duke in a fight, so it’s fine.

Duke doesn’t try to hurt them or steal Ellie away. He opens the door to their floor and stops before they do. “I’m in here,” he says, “If you ever need me to open more doors.”

“Thanks. Um, actually, I might need help opening mine?”

Duke just smiles and makes his way back to them, following them farther into the hall until Danny stops in front of his apartment. 

“If I could just get my keys,” he starts.

“Here, let me hold her for a second so you can get them,” Duke offers. Danny wants to insist that it’s fine, but Ellie cries directly into his ear and Danny, at the end of his rope, passes her over. 

Like magic, Ellie settles as soon as she’s in Duke’s arms. She sniffles and hides her face away, clutching to Duke’s hoodie, but she stops crying. They both go still, surprised, and stare down at her. 

“Seriously?” Danny says as he finally pulls out his keys, “Are you trying to say that I’m the problem?”

Ellie babbles lightly, and Duke turns his head to futilely hide his grin.

He grumbles as he unlocks the door and pushes it open. Ellie is acting as if she’s never been upset before a day in her life, making herself at home in Duke’s arms. 

“I can’t believe this. Betrayed by my own blood.”

Duke laughs as he follows Danny into his apartment, lightly patting Ellie’s back. “It’s always the smallest, cutest ones that do this.”

“Yeah? Do you work with a lot of kids or something? Used to being betrayed by the little ones?”

“I don’t work with kids per se,” Duke says, “But my foster family is a hot mess and the youngest of them likes to keep us all on our toes.”

“Family,” Danny says in a tired, fond tone.

“Family,” Duke agrees.

With his door open and Ellie calm, Danny’s ready to just lay face down on the floor for the rest of the day and not deal with anything else. He moves to take Ellie back, holding his arms out, and Duke tries to pass her over.

The key word being tries. 

Ellie tightens her grip and kicks at Danny. She refuses to be taken away from Duke, making him awkwardly try to pry her off his hoodie. Danny really hopes Duke doesn’t notice how she goes slightly intangible to make his hands fall through her arms and legs. It shouldn’t be noticeable, but it’s hard to focus on anything but a kid that clings to you, so Danny holds out for Duke’s goodwill and silence.

“As nice as it is to meet you, you need to go back to your… parent?” Danny nods when Duke looks at him in askance. “You need to go back to your parent. Okay? Come on, kid, he’s waiting for you.”

Ellie shakes her head, makes a frustrated noise, and then turns and reaches out a grabby hand towards Danny. 

She still refuses to be taken from Duke when Danny tries to pick her up again, so he settles with just letting her hold two of his fingers. 

“I’m so sorry about this,” he says to Duke, face burning. This is why he hasn’t been going out and being social since he moved in; Ellie is a handful even on the best days, and Danny doesn’t want someone to judge him as unfit to parent her and have her taken away.

Duke shakes his head, stepping closer. “It’s all good, man. I don’t mind. It’s not like I had any plans today. I’m already skipping my classes, might as well spend it with you two than sleep all day.”

“Are you sure? I’d be happy to invite you in, but I know Ellie can be a lot and not everyone wants to spend their day off with a baby.”

“I’m sure. Besides, I’d just be down the hall anyways. It’s no skin off my back, man.”

“Well,” Danny says, stepping to the side to give Duke full access to his open doorway, “Come on in, then.”

Ellie keeps them connected, one hand in Duke’s hoodie and the other holding Danny’s fingers, and though her cheeks are still red from how hard she had been crying, she’s calm now with her eyes shining with mischief. 

As the door closes behind them, Danny realizes that this is the first time someone he’s not related to has been inside his apartment. Not even Vlad has come in, always choosing to invite Danny and Ellie out for lunch instead. 

It should make him nervous, but Duke is calm and easy going and kind. 

He’s making silly faces at Ellie to make her laugh, completely at ease with her in his arms, as if he’s done this a thousand times before. 

Gotham is a second chance at life for Ellie. It’s a sacrifice for Danny, to be alone and without friends or family around. He’d been ready to give up everything for Ellie, to focus solely on raising her, but with Duke filling his apartment with laughter, he thinks that he can make a life here too.

All he needs to do is take that first step, reach his hand out, ask Duke to stick around.

He can do this.

[lemongogo]

sry i dont know what 2 draw anymore T_T . elendira portrait #999

[abstractfrog]

didnt expect to be super gay for mrs hudson but whatever

[mewtwo24]

I finally finished reading the fourth volume of svsss in full, and thing is--the first time through I only read the bingqiu content because I was ravenous for more of their happy ending.

Turns out that was a perilous mistake.

Because I started reading the airplane extras. And I swear to god. MXTX is trying to kill me

What do you MEAN demon lord Binghe was sitting on his big fucking throne. All stoic and forbidding. Surrounded by his demon generals who don't know shit about human courtship. Asking them what he should do, fully demoralized by constant rejections from sqq, only to have airplane tell him to act more pathetic and needy. Which is already hysterically funny and insane, UNTIL LBH'S RESPONSE IS THIS, KILLING ME INSTANTLY:

LUO BINGHE. WHY DOES HE SAY IT LIKE: "I already tried that, didn't work--nothing works :/ not mean, not maidenly, not housewife, not spicy, not capable disciple. Is doubling down on clingy really all it will take? What's a born hater with only one love in his life to do????"

The dichotomy of him sitting there like 'how can I reach the unfathomable depths of shizun's heart?' A HEART HE'S ALREADY WON OVER, MIND and then in the Holy Mausoleum solving the puzzle without blinking and being like 'oh yeah you just have to hit the acupoints, no sweat.' Literally the comedy writes itself I'm so--

How am I supposed to be normal about this. MXTX understands the juicy quintessential queer joy of a person with the world's power at their fingertips wishing only for love. Willing to do anything to earn that love, when unbeknownst to them it's already been freely given. Totally not screaming and yelling and clawing at the walls

And that's not even touching airplane's uproarious account of events. The way he's like 'lol what's next, lbh and sqq are best friends now? smfh' only to see lbh TACKLE SQQ LOVINGLY. FOR SQQ TO BE BASHFUL ABOUT IT BUT SO SO FOND OF THE LITTLE SCAMP. This when we've been experiencing sqq's constant inner monologue of 'I'm so cool and so dignified about my role, truly the epitome of propriety and poser-level fortitude.' Meanwhile, in their universe:

Airplane constantly flaming???? Sqq and lbh in his observations????? His absolute bewilderment and confusion????? Legendary. No notes every single second of this shit was hilarious.

Airplane's comment that sqq + older adolescent lbh traveling together was just watching a couple in their honeymoon phase. OR the fact that lbh is exceedingly petty and refuses to share their food in the wake of airplane's interruption of their time together, until sqq relents sheepishly and insists airplane eat what's left (ONLY AFTER PLACATING LBH WITH MORE FOOD FROM HIS PLATE, SOBBING)

Watching airplane salivate over Mobei-Jun and acting like that's totally normal behavior. Finding out mbj and airplane got together first. Finding out sqq encouraged airplane. LIKE THIS. WHILE HE IS STILL IN DENIAL ABOUT HIS OWN FEELINGS:

Mobei-jun clearly thinking their arrangement is a forever thing, heartbroken his human abandoned him with all the hapless fury of a scorned wife swept away by false promises of fidelity. Airplane writing demons to be the type to beat up their crush lovingly and still unable to connect the dots about mbj's feelings. Mbj letting him go and respecting his wishes, only relenting when there's indication airplane was poorly processing his own feelings and didn't actually want to leave. Mbj caring for him and listening to him as soon as airplane voices what he needs directly and with clarity. None of these gays are functional and it's everything to me

Unrelated, but I physically can't hold this information in anymore:

I'm still reeling from younger lbh having his sexual awakening from the image of sqq wrapped in the immortal binding cables. Condemn me as you like he was so, so real for that.

And no I will not be taking any comments about how luo bingge couldn't bear to see luo binghe cherished in ways he never got to have and all the haunting implications of that. I will also not be taking any comments about luo binghe's instinct to look for sqq in that alternate universe, only to be shaken to the very core to be unable to find his shizun anywhere. The unspeakable and latent horror of his relentless mind likely piecing together what happened, but unable to say it; to suspect what is true, and live with the harrowing confusion of his double's actions. To blame himself, to assume that he had let his anger get the better of him in that world and result in unspeakable folly...

I also refuse to talk about how heartrending it is to hear Tianlang-jun weakly say "In the end, I really can't bring myself to hate humans." The implication that the foolishness of that hope and bright-eyed fondness--the very thing that put him through such unspeakable agony--couldn't be beaten out of him entirely. To discover that his faith in Su Xiyan hadn't been misplaced, to the contrary: his beloved hadn't scorned him at all, but rather fought to the miserable end to protect the fruition of their genuine feelings of love when she couldn't protect tlj or herself.

How MXTX has sqq deliberately draw parallels between their situation and that of ygy+sj and tlj+sx; desperately wishing it might not be too late for them. The concept of breaking cycles of abuse and harm pervasive throughout the newly devised story, how it evolves for the better only when love takes the place of power, pride, and domination. How the moment sqq chooses vulnerability instead of saving face, the genre shifts to the so-called "cringe" girly genre where most if not every character is more fulfilled, more true to themselves. How the "male-oriented" former genre was aimlessly sensationalized and sexualized, how it was a sustained performance of aspirational toxic masculinity. How men objectify other men without end. All of the unspoken gendered implications that come with that.

Anyways. Going to go put my head in a sandbox and try to process everything I just witnessed because even a second reading is not enough to find a modicum of closure.

[sollucets]

love for love's sake || episode two

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

WHAT IN THE MAG160 WAS THAT

[chaiaurchaandni]

if u wanna learn more about kashmir + it's resistance against indian occupation + kashmiri struggles for an independent state, might i recommend @ kashmirarchive on instagram

+ @ kashmirawareness for news updates on kashmir

[transitofmercury]

the west end newsies cast performing king of new york at the big night of musicals

[artistlara]

Redraws of the whiteboards and the doodles of this post

Disclaimer: I'm not updated on what's happening in the fandom since I don't consider myself part of it or check for new stuff anymore, so if I've drawn a mod that has some controversy/discourse around it- please know I don't support it and only did this for redrawing purposes only.

[gingermintpepper]

Fate-Master I

I did say I would post more wips of my Zeus and Apollo writing so here's a bit from a series I've been writing concerning a young Apollo grappling with being the up and coming Moiragetes - Master of the Fates.

Do let me know if there's any interest for this sort of thing; I didn't originally intend to post this stuff anywhere, but I've just been so frustrated that I feel like it's necessary now 😂

Apollo marks time by etching notches into a clay tablet. He watches from the edge of the mountain’s summit, six of his crows perched three-by-three atop his shoulders and the seventh casting her gaze down onto the maidens all gathered to pick their flowers. He watches them laugh and joke and throw their petals all about, free and fragrant with an easy camaraderie spread thick between them all. He carves his first notch when Persephone lays eyes on the innocent narcissus; in his visions he could never make sense of time’s passing - he did not know how long she would remain swallowed, merely that it would be long enough for her to be missed, searched for, grieved and avenged.

 It will be worth it all in the end.  

Soon, all the world will delight in the birth of new Seasons, a new system of time to mark the stabilisation of this new era.  

He averts his eyes when the earth crumbles beneath Persephone’s feet. There is no way for him to deny it if he truly does bear witness to the act. Apollo cannot see the pitch-black rider on his earth-dark horses as he grabs the maiden. He cannot see those immortal steeds galloping down, down, infinitely down beneath the earth so their rider may delight in his prize. He does not know the sound of her screams as the ground eats her alive. Only the narcissus remains when he once more casts his gaze down, white and untouched. Innocent. Like Apollo. Neither of them have seen a single thing. 

(But oh, her screams are loud in his ear. Big, reedy yells, wet with phlegm. A fawn crying for her mother, the tittering of a sparrowling swallowed foot-first by the viper. They never seemed this loud in his dreams, like footnotes easily overlooked at the very bottom of the page. Apollo does not see her go, but he hears her. He hopes he is the only one who hears.) 

He calls for his darling crow to return to him, stepping light into the halls of Olympus. His day will continue on as normal but to visit his mother so he can request a particularly thick himation for the coming days. Lemnos clicks next to his ear and Apollo huffs, dismissing his crows in a scatter of bright white feathers and glittering metal. They will watch what he cannot. They will make sure the maiden remains buried deep beneath the earth. 

The subtle cold emanating from his father’s quarters curls about his calves - he did not realise he had already travelled the length of the halls. He does not knock before he enters; the women are all busy this time of day and shrewd Athena is still out dancing with his sister, it will just be Father in his room, bent over his table or pouring over one of his maps. 

“It is done.” 

And Father looks up from his writing, a knowing glint shining in wine-dark eyes. His face remains frightfully still, marble stiff and focused on Apollo with the full weight of his eagle sharp intent. “You did not see it?” 

Her scream is the same as the highest note on the aeolian scale. A wonderfully piercing ‘A’. It is similar to the sound that resonates in the sky’s centre, Apollo cannot stop hearing it in his ear. “I did not.” 

Father smiles then, like sunlight peeking through the rough edges of the storm, “Good. That’s good.” He puts his hand to his face, scratches his chin as he hums contemplative. “How much time do we have before… well, before.” 

Demeter’s wailing will be a much darker sound, phrygian and guttural, discordant. Apollo’s had the score written for months now. He thinks he will hang Persephone’s cry next to it. Maybe he will incorporate their melodies into the song he will play at her return. Maybe it is cruel of him to already be thinking such things. “I know not. Time has never been the clearest to me, even in my most vivid of visions.” 

“It is no matter,” Father leans forward, digs a bolt of bright red fabric out of his drawer. “Here,” When he catches it, Apollo feels a denseness in the fibres he has never known. They’re slick yet springy, far coarser than sheep’s wool but unlike any goatskin or leather he has ever handled. “For the cloak you will ask of your mother.”   

He is slowly becoming accustomed to his thoughts not being his own, to his father living so closely in his head. The woven string connecting them still bleeds dye if either of them pull too hard on the connection, but in these quiet moments, it is a comfort. A lifeline. 

“Chimera skin, so it will not burn when you wear it for your work.” Would Father be this calm if it was Artemis swallowed by the earth? Would Apollo? That watery scream is a persistent ringing, she is still screaming far beneath where none but the rider can hear her. (Apollo hears her. Even now, he can hear the heavy breath of the dark stallions, the ripping winds that sting at her ears. Persephone is a friend, can he really leave her to this fate -?) “Phoebus.” 

Father’s broad palm is warm on his shoulder. It pulls him gently from his spiralling thoughts. The heat is unexpected; even now, Apollo can feel his toes going stiff from the room’s chill. 

“I am well,” he hears himself say, distant like the clanging stallion hooves which carry the rider’s prize deeper beneath the earth. Father does not let him go when he tries to escape. He does not tighten his hold either. His hand merely remains on Apollo’s slim shoulder, a point to anchor him here and not there. Apollo focuses on the faint hum of his father’s power, the gentle whistle of his cloud-hairs as they flow about his head, the muffled shuffling of his crows’ feathers as they settle in the gables to await his return. He no longer hears her. Not her, not the dread chariot. He cannot hear a single thing. “I am well.” 

[cannibalovers]

hannibal bagged such a good husband cuz WHAT DO U MEEAANN that Will regretted not running away with him and couldn't let him go yet so he built his own fucking boat, sailed to Florence KNOWING, SENSING he would be there, FORGAVE HIM and didn't meet him face to face UNTIL he learned more about Hannibal by literally going to Hannibal's home to understand him more??? all that after Hannibal stabbed him and killed his surrogate daughter after making Will believe she is dead and framed Will for her death????&!#)€(

[hotasfahrenheit]

This scene hits different on a rewatch.

Myungha looks so sad because he thinks at this point that his time with his friends in the game is limited and that promising Kyunghoon things about when they're older is empty words, and it's so easy to feel that sense of unease and regret, but watching it again and knowing that they will get to do those things together is such a relief and so good 💖

i just wanna give him a hug and tell him it'll be okay and to keep trying because things can and will get better, for all of them.

ALSO i love this scene for what it means for Kyunghoon - he's gone from "why would you be friends with someone like me" to planning their future together and i love that kind of friendship, that's how things should be. he's happy and confident in the friendship and the fact it will last and that Myungha will WANT to be around him for years to come and ugh i just want to squeeze him.

[daisies-on-a-cup]

i think while we can acknowledge the queer subtext and themes in the show, it's important to not forget that, historically, women of color have been robbed of their right to be a woman in their own way. it's terribly difficult for a woman of color to exist in any media in a more traditionally masculine way without immediately pivoting to see them as a man because of those feminine traits not being on the surface. the bias of white femininity allows for more masculine white women the grace to still exist as women in their spaces- a grace that poc women are often not allowed. the show creators have stated that mizu is a woman, someone who reflects part of themselves, and while it's fine to have various headcanons about mizu's gender identity, it's not fine to disregard the creator's intent with a character like mizu. mizu represents a lot of the struggles mixed race and mixed cultural women feel and go through, and i personally resonate with her as well as a mixed asian-white woman. again, there's a lot to be said about the queer themes in the show, but the show itself is not a queer show. there are elements there, but the message and plot line i don't believe surrounds a queer allegory so much as it does about poc women struggling to find a place to belong without subscribing to one race or feminine or masculine trait over the other and still be seen as a woman

[eternal-brainrot]

some designs i made of my fav mdzs characters to hand out at a con i went to last month!

(i still have a couple of each left because i kept forgetting i had them until after id parted with people i met sdhjdsh so if anyone is interested send me a message and i would be happy to see if i can send them to you depending on postage! :) )

plus the lil xiyao chibis i did last minute that i cannot find my original files for for the life of me i can only find the sheet i made for printing them sdhjds