#fucking long story
Note
Rowling isn't denying holocaust. She just pointed out that burning of transgender health books is a lie as that form of cosmetic surgery didn't exist. But of course you knew that already, didn't you?
I was thinking I'd probably see one of you! You're wrong :) Let's review the history a bit, shall we?
In this case, what we're talking about is the Institut für Sexualwissenschaft, or in English, The Institute of Sexology. This Institute was founded and headed by a gay Jewish sexologist named Magnus Hirschfeld. It was founded in July of 1919 as the first sexology research clinic in the world, and was run as a private, non-profit clinic. Hirschfeld and the researchers who worked there would give out consultations, medical advice, and even treatments for free to their poorer clientele, as well as give thousands of lectures and build a unique library full of books on gender, sexuality, and eroticism. Of course, being a gay man, Hirschfeld focused a lot on the gay community and proving that homosexuality was natural and could not be "cured".
Hirschfeld was unique in his time because he believed that nobody's gender was either one or the other. Rather, he contended that everyone is a mixture of both male and female, with every individual having their own unique mix of traits.
This leads into the Institute's work with transgender patients. Hirschfeld was actually the one to coin the term "transsexual" in 1923, though this word didn't become popular phrasing until 30 years later when Harry Benjamin began expanding his research (I'll just be shortening it to trans for this brief overview.) For the Institute, their revolutionary work with gay men eventually began to attract other members of the LGBTA+, including of course trans people.
Contrary to what Anon says, sex reassignment surgery was first tested in 1912. It'd already being used on humans throughout Europe during the 1920's by the time a doctor at the Institute named Ludwig Levy-Lenz began performing it on patients in 1931. Hirschfeld was at first opposed, but he came around quickly because it lowered the rate of suicide among their trans patients. Not only was reassignment performed at the Institute, but both facial feminization and facial masculization surgery were also done.
The Institute employed some of these patients, gave them therapy to help with other issues, even gave some of the mentioned surgeries for free to this who could not afford it! They spoke out on their behalf to the public, even getting Berlin police to help them create "transvestite passes" to allow people to dress however they wanted without the threat of being arrested. They worked together to fight the law, including trying to strike down Paragraph 175, which made it illegal to be homosexual. The picture below is from their holiday party, Magnus Hirschfeld being the gentleman on the right with the fabulous mustache. Many of the other people in this photo are transgender.
[Image ID: A black and white photo of a group of people. Some are smiling at the camera, others have serious expressions. Either way, they all seem to be happy. On the right side, an older gentleman in glasses- Magnus Hirschfeld- is sitting. He has short hair and a bushy mustache. He is resting one hand on the shoulder of the person in front of him. His other hand is being held by a person to his left. Another person to his right is holding his shoulder.]
There was always push back against the Institute, especially from conservatives who saw all of this as a bad thing. But conservatism can't stop progress without destroying it. They weren't willing to go that far for a good while. It all ended in March of 1933, when a new Chancellor was elected. The Nazis did not like homosexuals for several reasons. Chief among them, we break the boundaries of "normal" society. Shortly after the election, on May 6th, the book burnings began. The Jewish, gay, and obviously liberal Magnus Hirschfeld and his library of boundary-breaking literature was one of the very first targets. Thankfully, Hirschfeld was spared by virtue of being in Paris at the time (he would die in 1935, before the Nazis were able to invade France). His library wasn't so lucky.
This famous picture of the book burnings was taken after the Institute of Sexology had been raided. That's their books. Literature on so much about sexuality, eroticism, and gender, yes including their new work on trans people. This is the trans community's Alexandria. We're incredibly lucky that enough of it survived for Harry Benjamin and everyone who came after him was able to build on the Institute's work.
[Image ID: A black and white photo of the May Nazi book burning of the Institute of Sexology's library. A soldier, back facing the camera, is throwing a stack of books into the fire. In the background of the right side, a crowd is watching.]
As the Holocaust went on, the homosexuals of Germany became a targeted group. This did include transgender people, no matter what you say. To deny this reality is Holocaust denial. JK Rowling and everyone else who tries to pretend like this isn't reality is participating in that evil. You're agreeing with the Nazis.
But of course, you knew that already, didn't you?
Edit: Added image IDs. I apologize to those using screen readers for forgetting them. Please reblog this version instead.
#transgender#trans history#transsexual#transphobia#Magnus Hirschfeld#holocaust#holocaust denial#book burning#j.k. rowling#jk rowling#just in case you missed what i mean by all this: go fuck yourself anon :)#trans people have always existed#and we will always exist#if you really wanna pick a fight with me over well-documented history then you better bring in some sources to back your shit#queer history#queer#lgbt+#lgbta+#lgbt#lgbt history#edit: i finally got around to those damn image IDs. i am so very sorry for totally forgetting that's my bimbo moment of the month#also real quick i thought about adding an image of the actual building but the only one i can find has a Nazi parade in front of it#it was taken the day of the book burning raid and honestly if i were to include it then i'd add it to the first few paragraphs#and i think the story's better told when you uphold the hope Magnus Hirschfeld and all the researchers he worked with had#also keeps being brought up: yes Hirschfeld was a eugenicist. it was a popular belief set that was only discredited after WW2#Hirschfeld died in 1935. he literally didn't live long enough to see science turn against those beliefs and practices#considering how he changed his mind on transitions i like to think he would've changed his mind on eugenics too if he'd lived
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I need to write about how Jun Wu's belief that everyone has the capacity for evil, if you just push them hard enough, torment them long enough, is directly contradicted by the entire story of tgcf, which posits that, actually everyone has the capacity for good. The misogynistic womanizer, the depraved cannibal, the man dead set on revenge, the one filled with envious resentment, are all able to do the right thing when it comes down to it. In a way, doing good is a surrender, it's giving up, it's as easy as falling asleep. And it's so much easier than letting the evils of your past dog your heels for hundreds of years. Isn't it such a release to change? To not be stuck in your old ways?
#i genuinely cheered when xl finally decides to tell hc about his past#hed been keeping it so close to his chest for so long and his inability to confront it was keeping him stuck#meanwhile hua cheng is so mutable#so able to change and learn and grow#the themes in this story are so fucking beautiful#tgcf#heaven officials blessing#xie lian#hua cheng
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Swirling around in the shitter these past 3 weeks
That is, if we had water
This week has been garbage. Shit, since Xmas, life has been hot garbage. Join me in the Saga that is my past three weeks.
The Tuesday after Xmas, I get into work. 15min after being there, I realize we don't have water. I assumed the pipes froze.
I called my new boss, J. He tells me that he knows. He was in on Monday. And then he didn't tell me he did anything.
No water is an emergency.
We did have extra water from our water cooler.
He comes in and doesn't seem bothered by our lack of water. Super nonchalant about it. Found out that my coworker, on his own, contacted the property manager. J apparently didn't care.
Wednesday, plumbers come in. They fix something, but the well needs to be looked at. That's a different person. Well people come in Thursday. Fix something. Plumber has to come back. Not upset at the time it was taking the professionals to do their stuff. It was a hectic week for them because of the cold
On Wed, V and I complained to J that the bathrooms stunk. Instead of reassuring us that he was on it, he told the story of stepping in toddler pee. WTF
Friday, after a week, he has a water buffalo come in. A water buffalo that the company owned. Not rented, but owned. Why the fuck wasn't it on site Tuesday morning!
Friday we went around making sure to properly flush all the toilets. We spent 90 minutes filling up the 5 gallon containers from the water cooler and dumping water into toilets. BTW, the men's room for the mechanics stunk. Stunk like they never thought to clean their fucking restroom, stunk.
Friday the plumber stated he needed a part and it won't be in until Tuesday. I get it. Long weekend.
I was pissed about the water buffalo. J knew we had a problem before anyone else and didn't do anything. He didn't get water delivered until 5 days passed. When approached, he tried to laugh it off.
WTF
J and I finally talked on Thur the following week, I told him I was mad. If we would have talked on Friday, I wouldn't be working for him anymore. Either I would have quit or been fired for being a cunt. [I didn't say cunt, but I would have been]
Things calmed down last week. I had enough money to pay off my car loan and 2 of the higher interest student loans. That frees up $500. fuck yeah!
And then I went full Dukes of Hazard on a large deer carcass sitting in the middle of my lane at 50 mph Thurs morning. It was in a construction area, so there was no shoulder. A car was coming the other way. I thought I was fucked. Looking back, I wish I was.
I got to work fine. The plastic fascia of the bumper had minor damage. So I now work for a car dealership. I was able to run to a dealership a few miles south of us. They put my car up and looked. No damage. But there is an oil leak. I knew about the leak. It's been about a month. I was going to fix it next.
Sunday, I get in my car and head [to the city]. On the main road where there is no shoulder, my car says it's running too hot and to turn the engine off. Where there is no shoulder. I make it to a light and pull safely over. There was no coolant fluid. WTF, but ok. luckily I had some in my car. I dump it in, but decide against going to into the city. I don't think it was damaged by the deer.
Monday morning, I get in my car. It takes a long time to heat up. Like, the ice on the windshield should have been completely melted halfway to work. WTF!
I'm the first into the office. I walk in and smell something... off. I'm not awake so I can't place it. I sit at my desk and eat breakfast. As I wake up, I can smell it more. And it's stronger near my wall...
At the bottom of cubicle walls, there is a channel for cables. I open that up. Dead mouse
WTF!!
I clean it up, but the smell lingers. What is it?...Mouse pee. From the dead mouse. Joy
J comes in shortly after. I tell him what happened. He says there should be a desk somewhere in the company that can be brought over. He'll have maintenance get it.
"Ok," I tell him. "I'm going to disassemble the desk." He tries to get me to stop. I don't know if he didn't think it was a problem, or didn't think I could take it apart. Like i'm a helpless woman.
Fuck that. I cleaned it off. Me and A tore it down.
Riding that wave of energy, I called a mechanic up the road to have my car looked at.
Tuesday, I get a new desk. I spend the day setting everything back up. Frustrating and physically exhausted, but I have a clean work area again.
Wed I take my car to the mechanic. He looks it over and calls me. The oil cooler on the turbo is leaking. It'll be $1500 to fix. $1500 to fix the car I just paid off.
That also has a heater problem.
With 133K miles.
That car?
I ask the mechanic how long I could go with adding oil as it runs low. Instead of answering, he goes on a spiel about cheap cars having no sensors to detect oil levels and completely avoids my question. I tell him I don't want the repairs
Fuck! Why did my car survive hitting the deer? If there was any damage, my insurance would have [most likely] totaled my car and I'd have a down payment for a new one
fuck!
A week after paying the damn thing off, It needs to be gone. I was going to have $500 freed up from the loans I paid off. I'll be lucky to have $200. So now it's onto a car hunt.
J said that he'd personally help me find a car. Maybe working for a car dealership will have a benefit after all.
#the past 3 weeks have been garbage#death mention#dead animal#dead mouse#shit#literal shit#human waste#toilets#deer#dead deer#car wreck#car maintenance#student loans#car loan#terrible boss#car mechanic#fucking long story#did i miss a trigger tag?#long post
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The defintion of hell is knowing a show is incredibly well-received in its first season, but if people don’t become machines churning out tweets, content, and rewatching 24/7, there’s no likelihood it’ll get a chance to tell its whole story. This shit is madness. Shows in different genres shouldn’t have to pit-battle for dominance. First seasons are MEANT to be baselines establishing worlds and characters, not complete storylines. The idea that this golden age of television has turned into “get it done in one or get out” is revolting.
#the sandman#paper girls#some of the hot takes on Twitter are breaking me#‘why don’t we know the whole story? it’s bad writing if you don’t have a complete story in the first season’ girl WHAT since WHEN#how many excellent shows were weak as fuck in S1?? and here we’re getting shows with incredible first seasons fighting for their lives#like fuckin Christ dude the idea of long form storytelling is allowing your story time and space to spread out#otherwise we would only make movies#i am so sick of this edge of my seat fear that any new show I fall in love with will get axed because the higher powers don’t care about art#this has to be a bubble right? this has to pop at some point and go back to shows valued on what they are#and don’t even get me started on creators having to beg for good reviews to balance out review-bombing from shitheads#if every one star review is clearly bigoted from the comments? why is anyone taking them into account??#why is there no way to manage this shit aside from creators being like ‘please help us”’
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swipes everything else off of the table to yell about diasomnia flower bookmarks
(I gave Silver one too :D)
#art#twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland spoilers#white rabbit festival#me: oh boy i wonder what excitement will happen in this new part#characters: now it is time to buy souvenirs :)#me: oh god#jk jk even when the filler is kind of painful i do enjoy the little character moments#like everyone screaming as loud as they can into silver's watch#deuce busting out his suzy izzard impression#SMASH IT WITH A HAMMER!#and of course silver assigning flowers to the other dias and getting all sappy over lilia. god. delicious.#you don't understand this ten second long scene is everything to me#though we all know the real highlight#the knowledge that 1) deuce used to have an extremely silly edgy badass nickname#2) he almost certainly gave it to himself#3) he harassed epel's extended family to the point that they told horror stories about him and he was briefly epel's personal idol#epel: i heard he once killed three men with but a look#deuce: what no i never...i mean...ha ha sounds weird nothing a model student like me would know about#also deuce: if you fuckers don't apologize to my mom right now i'll fucking kill all of you (sees dilla) uhhh i mean#deuce: i challenge you to a children's game#black bunnies leader: (strapping on his duel disk) i accept#meanwhile silver is running full speed at a group of children screaming to them about donuts#we aren't going to talk about what ortho did with that fantasy-gregg's sausage roll#so glad that we've reached the 'what the heck is even happening' portion of the event#anyway i completely screwed up the resolution of these so here's hoping they don't look terrible!#whoops!
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bsd rewatch w my friend means obligatory art of my fav found family ever
#WAAAAAAAAAUUUUGHHHHHHHH I MISS THEM SO FUCKING MUCH YOU GUYS GENUINELY DON'T UNDERSTAND..............................................#LIKE. NOT A DAY GOES BY WHERE I DONT THINK ABT THEM UEUUEUEUEUEUEUUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUEUUEUEUEUEUEUE😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭#bro i didn't mean to make atsushi that short LMFAO it's ok tho bc he's their little boy. their son#literally was in the trenches drawing kunikida bc i've been drawing twinks for so long i forgot how to draw actual MEN😭😭#when will my family return from the war.....................................................................#rewatching bsd made me realize its just a rly shitty slice of life romcom featuring ml dazai and his tired work partner/husband#and the story of how they got their first kid. sopping wet pathetic kitten of a boy they picked up off the riverbank#anyway theyre all so dear to me you don't understandddddd i love these dumbass partners and their little tiger boy :((((((((((((((#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#atsushi nakajima#nakajima atsushi#doppo kunikida#kunikida doppo#osamu dazai#dazai osamu#kunikidazai#knkdz#lotus draws
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I said I wasn’t going to talk about kendrick vs drake anymore but if it’s two things this whole thing has taught me, it’s:
nothing holds weight within the black community until a man says it. Black girls and women have been calling out this nasty man for quite a while now but were all but told to shut up. Meg was told she took it too far calling him a pedo + saying he had a BBL. Nobody cared about or even acknowledged the fact that he’s bled the culture dry until ANOTHER man said it. The same ppl who were up in arms abt Cardi, Tyla, and any other lightskinned/mixed race woman in general are the same ones who worshipped Aubrey. Now that Kendrick calls it out, everybody wants to pretend they give a shit. The mob mentality is something else. Also, cue *that* Katt Williams interview. As somebody who really loves him and is a huge fan (maybe bc he’s the only comedian who’s actually funny and has never had to make blk women the brunt of his jokes), that Club Shay Shay thing was nothing more than a regurgitation of EVERYTHING Monique had already said years ago. From Tyler Perry and his tap dancing, Oprah, Steve Harvey, etc. To see a bunch of blk men who willingly made our women caricatures for the white gaze and profit, proclaiming that they were ‘forced’ is a fucking insult at best and a sickening ploy to avoid accountability at worst.
white people don’t give a damn abt activism until it’s time to be racist towards black people. Two rappers get in the news for a weekend after months of Palestine being at the forefront of everything (bc fuck Congo and Sudan, right?) and all of a sudden it’s ‘BiLLiOnAiReS arE StEaLinG thE sPoTLigHt—“ the same could be said for FlatBack Swift but every yt gay, Sarah and Brittany was bumping her shitty album and posting her with that bum of a football player like they were the new president or something. All of it is nothing more than a dog whistle for racism and shows just how vapid y’all’s concern for others humanity truly is. This coming from the same subset of ppl who couldn’t be vexed to do anything further than post a black fucking square when police brutality was at an all time high. Putting Hello Kitty stickers on serious terms and posing for Insta at riots like it’s a big goddamn game and of course, when it was no longer trendy or cute to have #BLM ✨🙏🏾😩 posted all over your profiles, y’all went right back to being anti black and making fun of us, WHILE sucking every part of our culture dry.
#cherry chats 🍒#long story short#fuck everybody#i wish the aliens would let me go with them#I’m sick of this nasty planet#I hate it here
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One liners the sequel
#acontextual house#house md#gregory house#james wilson#thirteen#remy hadley#robert chase#“irene adler” fucking killed me first time I heard it#Wilson you're fucking asshole lmao#now did he made up a name or the Sherlock series existence is canon#but ducklings didn't seem to catch on to the reference so its prob random#or was it losely based on someone real who house knew and who did “win” like irene in sherlock did#the fact that this is wilson (watson) telling (making up) us the story of irene is very neat adaptation move to me#is it even adaptation lol. just a reference I guess#anyway#still i laughed at that line#and whats in the porntitle is “Making room for Daddy's hot bisexual with boyfriend problems.”#ridiculous#applies to them both#long post#longpost
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Splatoon 3: Side Order is good, but not great. I still highly recommend it, but if you care about the story, you're going to be disappointed. Quick review: spoilers ahead.
Side Order was the devs experimenting with Splatoon's gameplay loop. The campaign is a rogue-like, and it works amazingly well. Super fun, super challenging, building my deck and fighting through challenges with the stakes of resetting really scratched an itch in my brain. They did a great job with it.
Unfortunately, I feel like priority went to game design rather than story. Much of the mysterious artwork we saw in the first teaser trailer was completely unused; turns out, all of that was just concept art that never made it into the final product. Side Order failed to make me care about what was happening. I don't know why the protagonist had to be Agent 8; it could've been anyone else and the story would've worked the same.
Octo Expansion was the absolute peak of meshing story and gameplay. The campaign's hook is insanely strong; we immediately empathize with Agent 8 because we know from previous lore that octolings like her have been trapped underground for all their lives. We care about her fight to the surface because it's a fundamentally ideological fight for freedom. The plot stuff about Tartar and the Thangs is just nice set dressing; 8's fight for freedom is the real story.
There's none of that in Side Order. I don't particularly care about Marina's metaverse, even if it's tied to Octo Expansion's story. I don't know why Acht is there other than backstory stuff. It really feels like 8 is just told to do something and she does it because she's the protagonist; she has zero personal stakes or motivations in the conflict. This is a story blunder the devs did in Splatoon 3's default campaign––forgetting to give the protagonist a personal reason to fight––that I hoped would be fixed here, but alas.
What makes it worse is that the gameplay and story progression are completely out of sync. I beat the entire game on my third run in 4 hours. With each run, you get up to two keys to potentially unlock bits of story. That means you'll get about one piece of the story every two runs. There are twelve pieces of the story; I got the first and then beat the whole damn game. Now I have to go back and grind to see the remaining story when I've already beaten the final boss and resolved the conflict. I missed the entire story because I never had to reset because I blazed through the gameplay! It's just a real shame that I experienced everything without knowing... why it's happening. The final boss had me asking myself what the hell is going on because I don't know the backstory at all.
Again, I still really recommend. The devs did a great job, but Side Order remains in the shadow of Octo Expansion's incredible success. Like the default singleplayer campaign, there's just a lot of lost story potential here that, while not necessary, would have really elevated this DLC into something amazing.
#long#personal#rant#splatoon#side order#it's a shame too because I got SO FUCKING HYPED at the title drop#when I realized that the entire first 30 minutes of the game was JUST THE OPENING TUTORIAL and they hit you with the music#and the “nintendo presents” and the title drop to a slow mo explosion. I thought “holy shit this is gonna be huge”#alas it wasn't because it turns out i'm better at roguelikes than the devs anticipated so i beat it in 3 hours lol#octo expansion was a cultural reset. it did something to my brain. the entire rising action part of the story; the reveals the twists the#boss fights the upward climb. it was so incredibly hype and just upped the stakes over and over. nothing's come close
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Childhood Friends Danny and Jason
(cw underage smoking / smoking as a form of bonding) (cw Jason thinking Danny killed himself but its only for a moment) (cw depictions of murderous intent? Danny wants to murder the Joker and he's a little descriptive about it)
Now on ao3 :) (and with a response and a third one)
AND ALSO A REMASTERED VERSION THAT YOU SHOULD TOTALLY GO CHECK OUT BECAUSE I WORKED VERY HARD ON IT.
This is… aha. Massive. Word count check: 9k+
this has probably been done before but hey, everyone loves a good trope and I wanted to share my take on this idea. 👏👏 So, Danny Fenton and Jason Todd being childhood friends. The Fentons lived in Crime Alley for a good long while during Danny's childhood. Nobody wanted to fund their research and Jack and Maddie struggled to keep any form of work for a multitude of reasons. Jack worked in construction due to his big build and Maddie had another job elsewhere.
Danny and Jason were friends during that time, really great friends. I'm not super solid on how they met yet but I do know it involves Danny committing petty crime and Jason deciding to jump in and help when he sees Danny struggling. Danny was distrustful (as all crime alley kids ought to be) but they eventually became thick as thieves, committing petty crime together.
While it's all too easy to make Danny the weaker one of the two with Jason protecting him, I actually really like the idea that they protected each other. Growing up (essentially) on the streets means Danny forcibly had to grow a backbone unless he wanted to get trampled all over. He is just as willing to scuffle with the bigger kids as Jason is, and he and Jason regularly fought each other whenever they needed to let off steam, or just because. They were a duo, having each other's backs in tough situations.
(Sometimes the pair of them would sneak out at night and try and get a glimpse of Batman and Robin while they soared through the air. It was like a game between the two of them to see who could spot the dynamic duo first. When they were a little older, Jason would steal his dad's cigarettes and share them with Danny while they searched for Batman and Robin)
So when Danny has to move away when they're eleven years old, it's pretty safe to say that Jason didn't speak to him for a week afterwards. Nothing Danny did could persuade him to otherwise, even when Danny insisted that it wasn't his fault and that he didn't want to move away either, but he didn't have a choice in the matter.
When the week was over, Jason climbed through Danny's window and sat in his room, dead silent and looking upset. he didn't speak until Danny fished out a stolen pack of cigarettes from his bed and handed one to Jason.
(It was a ritual they had where if one of them was upset about something but wasn't saying anything, the other one could then hand them a cigarette -- whether it be the one they were using or a new one -- and that would be an open invitation for the person to vent. The other one who handed him the cigarette wouldn't speak until the venter handed back the cigarette. Then back and forth it would go until the cigarette was gone.)
Jason ranted about how pissed he was about Danny moving, and they promised to try and stay in touch after he leaves. Neither of them had phones, but Danny was determined to send him a letters.
Danny moves to Amity Park and it's... an adjustment, that's for sure. He's angry, grumpy, upset, and every other negative feeling under the sun. He was going to a new middle school with new people he didn't know, away from all of the people he did know and away from his best friend.
(He does however keep his word about sending letters, and mails one out to Jason at the first opportunity.)
He refuses to get along with anyone, butts heads with the teachers, is combative, rude, and openly smokes in class -- which gets him plenty of detentions and a bad reputation. He speaks in a thick Gotham street accent and wears hand-me-down clothes that are too big and baggy on him. (His parents have yet to replace any of their wardrobes as they settle into their new life, and Danny is hesitant to spend the money to get new clothes.)
He only manages to befriend Sam and Tucker because one of the football kids was bullying Tucker and Danny stepped in. It was some blond jerk named Dash and when Dash threw the first punch, Danny broke his nose. Tucker found him later that day and reluctantly thanked him for his help.
Sam and Danny do not get along for the longest time. Sam questions Danny about his upbringing, his accent, his smoking. She judges him for talking back to the teachers despite doing it herself and for ruining his lungs with cigarettes. Danny tells her to fuck off, and when she tries to judge him and Tucker for not being vegetarian, he calls her a privileged brat.
Sam doesn't even look at him for two weeks after, and Danny refuses to apologize. Tucker is caught between a rock and a hard place as his old friend and new friend are feuding with each other.
They... sort it out eventually.
Danny and Jason send each other letters near religiously. Danny complains about Amity Park, and Jason complains about how Crime Alley isn't the same without him. Danny talks about the school and what he's learned, about Sam and Tucker, and how he's been getting into the astronomy books in the library. He steals Jason a book and sends it to him.
When Jason tells Danny that he was adopted by Bruce Wayne, Danny calls bullshit. There's no fucking way Bruce Wayne would even look at Crime Alley, regardless of his charity efforts towards it. But when he checks Gotham news later that week, he's hit in the face with every single news article announcing Bruce Wayne's newest ward; Jason Todd.
Cue freaking out. Jason talks all about living in Wayne Manor and what it's like there. He says that there's a monster library in a part of the house that Bruce says he has free reign over, and that Jason can have anything to eat as long as he asks Alfred to make it and it isn't a desert, and that he has his own monster-sized room that he got to pick out himself and decorate.
(When they both get phones, the first thing either of them do is add each other's numbers.)
When Sam complains about having to go to a Wayne Gala that her parents are dragging her to one weekend, the first thing Danny asks is if he can go with. It surprises Sam and Tucker; Danny was the last person they would have thought wanted to go with. HE hates the rich even more than Sam does. Danny stands firm in his decision, and refuses to elaborate.
"Besides." He says to Sam, with whom he's begun to get along with via 'the enemy of my enemy is a friend'. "Would you rather go alone or with someone you can tolerate?"
She brings him with and convinces her parents to allow Danny to come along, citing that she'll be on her best behavior if they do. They agree, and buy Danny a suit when he says that he doesn't have one of his own.
(He discovers that he hates wearing suit jackets and ties, but vests he doesn't mind. He doesn't like that he has to comb his hair back, but he does to make Sam's parents happy. They give him a crash course in etiquette that Danny's going to forget the next day, and soon enough off they go in a private jet to Gotham)
(he does not tell Jason he's coming.)
he feels mischievous and nervous as they touch down, his stomach swirling as Sam's parents usher them to a high-profile hotel that Danny's only ever dreamed about going into. He feels largely out of place as they walk through the lobby, and falls back on old habits: square shoulders, set jaw, make yourself look like the biggest person in the room.
They get ready in the hotel room, Sam's parents primp and preen for the night incoming, and Sam is dragged into it by her mother. Danny does only what's required of him, and fiddles with the sleeves of his fresh-ironed button-down that's been tailored to his body. He's itching for a cigarette, and didn't bring any with.
Sam's dad helps him with his tie, a bout of kindness that Danny doesn't think is one. Just obligation to prevent Danny from looking like a mess. Sam pesters him again about wanting to come, and his reasons for it, and Danny keeps mum.
He's stone-faced with anxiety as they get closer to the gala, and before they leave the limousine the Mansons rented Sam links arms with him. A form of solidarity that Danny needs as he squeezes their arms together and smiles weakly at her.
The paparazzi are loud, bright, and demanding, shouting questions over questions at them like overlapping tidal waves. Danny ignores them all and focuses on the front doors instead. Sam's parents whisper at the stairs that they are to greet the Waynes first, and Danny's heart leaps to his throat.
His heart is in his ears as they drift closer, Mister Wayne is preoccupied with another rich couple, smiling that charming billionaire smile that Danny saw on every billboard in Gotham, and then some in Amity Park. Getting so close to him feels unreal.
And there by his side is the one and only Jason Todd, who isn't even trying to hide the bored look on his face as he watches Bruce interact with the other adults. He's gotten taller in the year they've been away, and healthier. His hair looks like its been cut professionally and he doesn't look as street kid skinny.
Danny's arm, hooked with Sam's, tightens up, and he resists the urge to rush forward and hug Jason. He watches Jason's eyes sweep left, away from him, and then right, towards him. The air stills for a moment as their eyes lock.
Danny grins toothily at him, lopsided and playful in nature, and sees the moment Jason processes the sight before him. His arm starts slipping out of Sam's at the same time as an ecstatic smile stretches across Jason's face.
His lopsided grin fills out on the other end. "DANNY!" Jason yells, cutting off whatever Bruce Wayne and startling everyone within earshot. There's barely a moment for Bruce to look down when Jason shoves past him and runs at Danny.
Danny yanks his arm out of Sam's, "JASON!" He yells with just as much enthusiasm, and Jason nearly topples them right over when he collides with Danny. His arms wrap around Danny's shoulders, holding onto him tightly, and they're both laughing, spinning around like tops out of joy.
"You didn't tell me you were coming!" Jason cries, sounding accusing. Danny hugs him just as tightly, and laughs when Jason pulls away momentarily to punch his shoulder.
"I wanted it to be a surprise!" He defends, laughing between words as their spinning comes to a stop. They're both reluctant to pull apart, but they do and clutch the sleeves of their elbows tightly. "How could my best friend be adopted by the Bruce Wayne and have me not come confirm it with my own two eyes?"
"I sent you newspaper clippings!" Jason says, narrowing his eyes while his smile betrays his face. Danny quietly notices that his Gotham street accent is faded slightly.
"Oh that's what it was?" Danny's grin turns again, edging into a smirk. He feigns innocence, "I thought that was fire kindling." He has the newspaper clippings hung on the corkboard in his room, proud beyond words about his best friend.
Jason punches him in the shoulder again, hard enough to leave a bruise. "You jackass." He says, ignoring Danny's laughter even when he's holding back his own.
There's a soft, sharp clearing of someone's throat, breaking their attentions away from each other to the one that made the noise.
Bruce Wayne was a tall man, taller than Danny expected, and he looks exactly like his billboards. If less promiscuous than his perfume ads. Danny expects him to be upset with them both for disrupting his pretty rich gala, but instead he just looks gently amused, with an arched eyebrow. Overall though, he just looks fond.
Danny would be the first to admit that Bruce had taken in Jason as a charity case, something to fill the void after his other kid Dick Grayson finally moved out. But Danny’s a good judge of character — or he likes to assume he is — and those are not the eyes of a man who would take Jason in as a charity case. Those are the eyes of a man who actually, genuinely, cares about one Jason Todd.
The wriggly protective thing settles in his chest.
He doesn’t let go of Jason, but he does twist his smile into something a little more polite. Mister Wayne’s eyebrow arches higher, and he turns his blue-blue eyes onto Jason. “Who’s this, Jason?” He has that fancy Gotham Elite accent -- something that sounds like a mix between old transatlantic and faintly British -- that Danny's only heard in passing when he and Jason snuck up to the nicer parts of Gotham.
Jason stares at Mister Wayne, his grip on Danny tightens as his eyes flick to the other onlookers in the room. “This is Danny, B.” He says once his eyes turn back to Mister Wayne. “We grew up in Crime Alley together, he moved to Illinois last year."
Danny can see the uncomfortable expressions cross every rich person's face, murmurs sweeping across the room as soon their uncomfortable gazes turned judgmental and flinty. He's kept track of the tabloids after Jason's adoption, the ones calling him a charity case and looking down on him for being a street kid.
He inches a little closer to Jason, straightening up instinctively, as if they were back in Crime Alley and facing a pack of kids that didn't like them. He can see Sam's surprised expression from the corner of his eye -- he never told Tucker or Sam about where he grew up, although he's sure they had their suspicions.
He looks back to Mister Wayne and meets his blue-blue eyes, his smile has slowly begun to fade. Mister Wayne doesn't miss a beat however, and his smile stays plastered to his face. If anything, it gets a little softer, a little wider. "It's nice to meet you Danny -- Daniel? I'm so glad that Jason has a friend here." He holds out a hand.
Danny eyes him unsurely, and then takes his hand. "It's jus' Danny, Mister Wayne." He says, some of his old accent slipping through as he shook his hand firmly. He would have done it harder, but this was Jason's new guardian, and from Jason's letters he didn't sound too bad. "It's, uh, nice to meet you too. Jason's told me lots about you."
Mister Wayne's brows jump momentarily, he looks intrigued. He looks between Danny and Jason, and claps his hands together softly. "Well, Jay, how would you like to stay with Danny for a while, hm? I'm sure you too have a lot to catch up on."
Hope simmers in Danny's heart, and he glances to Jason to see that same hope on his face. "Really?" He asks, and Mister Wayne nods with a laugh.
"Of course! How could I keep two friends apart? Go on ahead, chum. I'll come get you when the gala ends."
And just like that, Bruce Wayne leaves Jason with Danny, diving back into a conversation with one of the rich gothamites and taking the attention with it as if he were the sun and everyone else a planet orbiting him.
Danny and Jason share grins, and throw their arms around each other with laughter. Danny is on cloud nine, pressing his nose into Jason's shoulder and breathing him in, fingers digging into the back of his suit hard enough to leave wrinkles in his jacket.
Sam demands answers when they finally, for real this time, pull apart. Why didn't he tell her that he was friends with Jason Todd!? Danny slings his arm around Jason's shoulders and keeps him close, and tells her that it was because he wanted it to be a surprise.
Sam's parents have unreadable expressions on their faces, part greed -- Danny is their in to the elusive Bruce Wayne -- and part disdain -- a Gotham street rat. Danny ignores them, they're unimportant in the grand scheme of things.
He introduces Sam to Jason, and Jason to Sam. And off they go to a corner of the room near the buffet table where they can eat and shit talk everyone else in the room in peace.
At some point in the night Sam is called back to her parents to meet some other fancy rich kids her parents want her to get along with, and Danny and Jason go off to the west end balcony to avoid anyone who may try and approach the new Gotham ward.
Danny hops up onto the balcony railing, kicking his feet as Jason pulls a cigarette pack out of his inner jacket pocket, and grins. "Don't tell Bruce," he says, handing the box to Danny first. "He's been trying to get me to quit."
"Hah!" Danny takes one just as Jason slips out a lighter. "That sounds like Jazz. She's been trying to get me to stop since we moved to Amity." Granted, she's been trying ever since she found out before they moved, but now she was even more insistent. "She hasn't found my stash yet."
At the end of the night when the Mansons are leaving and Danny has to leave with them, he walks back to Mister Wayne with Jason to tell him that he's leaving. Mister Wayne mourns his going, and tells him that he's always able to come visit.
"Any friend of Jason's is always welcome to the manor." He says with a blinding grin, pulling Jason close to his side and squeezing him tight. Jason's nose scrunches up, but he doesn't push away.
It becomes a new routine for them. The Mansons are all too happy to bring him with to the Wayne Galas (of which they start receiving more invites to due to their connection with Danny) and Danny is all too happy to spend the evening with Jason again. No matter what, they always end up on the balcony at some point in the night.
And, eventually, Danny is invited to stay at Wayne Manor either for a weekend or for a break. He jumps at the chance when winter break rolls around and his parents start their debate over Santa Claus again.
Danny and Jason stay up late into the night talking or playing video games during their sleepovers, and in the warmer nights they climb out and onto the roof to stargaze. Danny points out constellations - - things he can find in neither Gotham or Amity -- and rambles on and on about space.
There are plenty of times during the Wayne Galas that the event gets attacked by a rogue. More often than he'd like he loses Jason in the crowd, and has later stopped Robin or Batman in his panic to find him.
The first time it happened, he was in tears with terror. He grabbed onto Batman's cape, stopping the man from going back in as he babbled that his Jason Todd was still inside, that he disappeared during the chaos and he couldn't find him. Batman took his hands and calmly told him that he'd find Jason for him, and that he was sure he was okay, but he needed to calm down.
He found Jason later once everything had calmed down, and he screamed at him for disappearing during a rogue attack, if he ever did it again he'll kill him. Then he cried.
The second time it happened, Danny didn't even realize that Jason was gone until everything was already over. They'd been separated before the attack happened. He stopped Robin and Batman before they could leave, trying to keep his breathing under control as he asked again, if they had seen Jason Todd.
"That- that asshole keeps fucking ditching me when these things happen." His voice has an embarrassing wobble in it. "Please-- please tell me you've seen him, that he's alright."
Robin this time steps up to reassure him, that Jason Todd was out of the building. He got him out. "He's probably looking for you too, uhhh..."
"Danny" Danny says, and eyes him up and down. "You're the new Robin right?"
Robin stilled up, and Danny could understand it a little. He'd seen the thoughts on the new Robin online. He wasn't very popular at first. Robin nods curtly, and Batman was shuffled a little closer to him, almost protectively.
Danny grins at him. "Cool." He says, "Me and Jay used to sneak out onto the rooftops sometimes to try and spot Batman and the first Robin, we made it a game." He holds out a fistbump, "Thanks for doing what you do, man. I might not live in Gotham anymore, but I mean it. You're a living legend."
Robin looks like there's something stuck in his throat, and after a beat he returns the fistbump tentatively. "Th- uh, thanks." He stumbles out awkwardly, and then turns away, "Me and B- uh, better go."
Before Danny could even respond, Robin already had his grapple in hand and was grappling away. "You too, Batman." Danny says before Batman can follow.
When Danny sees Jason after that, and weight lifts off his chest and he hits him in the arm again. And then complains that he should have gotten Batman and Robin's autograph, it would have been epic.
By the fifth time it happens, Danny is cussing up a storm when Robin saves him, cursing out Jason and claiming that he needs to put that boy on a fucking leash. "We're a duo!" He scowls when Robin gets him outside, "I got his back, he has mine! I can't have his back when he's got no back to fucking have."
The eighth time it happens, Danny gets held hostage by one of the henchmen. He's become a recognizable friend of the Waynes, and when the Waynes are nowhere to be found, then the next best thing was up to offer. Danny isn't even mad this time around -- just relieved that Jason was fucking off somewhere where he couldn't get hurt.
Robin, however, seemed furious when he arrived, and broke the hostager's jaw with a single flying kick to the face. Jason found him rapidly quick soon after the situation had settled, and apologized over and over again.
Danny slings an arm around his shoulder and laughs that it was fine, Robin saved the day! His legs were shaking with the worn off adrenaline, something he tried to hide from Jason. "I'm just glad it was me instead of you, Jay." He grins. Jason looks like he swallowed a toad.
Jason stops disappearing as often after that, sticking close to Danny's side until the attack was over.
When Danny is fourteen, Jason dies, and his world unravels.
He calls the manor on a late night in April after Jason had stopped responding to his texts. Danny knew that Jason was just recently in a fight with Bruce, but he knows that Bruce loves Jason. He would know where he is, right?
When he calls, Bruce answers with a hoarse "hello?" as if he'd been crying all day, and Danny's blood turns to ice. The anxiety he'd been feeling beforehand doubles in size, and he feels himself stammering.
"Mister- uh- Mister Wayne? Um, I'm calling because Jason--" he hears Bruce inhale sharply on the other line, and his anxiety skyrockets into fear. "--hasn't been answering any of my texts and- and I'm gettin' real worried."
There's silence on the other end, and Danny feels a rock forming in his throat, gross and heavy like he was on the verge of throwing up. "Mister- Bruce? Mister B?"
There's a shaky breath, and then Bruce's voice crackles through the phone. "Um-- Jason, he, he's--" there's a sound like rustling, "he's been killed."
Danny's vision whites out with skyrocketing terror, his mind skidding to a stop. His body rapidly grows hot, and then chills, like a blacksmith striking a heated weapon. "What?"
When the phone call ends, Danny screams himself hoarse. Jazz and his parents come running into his room, his parents equipped with ghost weapons. Instead, they find Danny curled up in his bed, sobbing hoarsely.
Danny almost -- almost -- refuses to attend the funeral, nearly paralyzed with grief. Jazz coaxes him to go, to find closure if anything else, and he drags himself out of bed to go.
He feels numb the entire time. It's closed casket, so he can't even see him for one last time before Jason is buried in the ground. He's silent, and if he think he looks bad, then Bruce looks even worse, like he hadn't slept since Jason died and worse.
Danny grabs his sleeve before he leaves, and when Bruce turns to him with a dull look in his once vibrant eyes, he clings to him tightly. And cries. Bruce clings back just as tight, Danny feels tears drip into his hair.
"Who did it." Danny whispers, voice too hurt to speak any louder, when he pulls back. His fingers curl around Bruce's jacket tightly, desperately. His eyes hurt with tears. "You said he was murdered, B. Please, who did it."
Bruce looks down at him, and for the first time it really does feel like he's looking down at him. His face is blank, and his eyes close in grief. There is no answer, a silent no.
Danny's face twists up all ugly like, and he shakes Bruce's jacket. "Bruce, please. Tell me who did it."
Bruce refuses, his face full of grief.
Danny never returns to Gotham.
Prior to Jason's death and post their reunion, Danny had slowly begun to improve in school. He started caring more, he was putting in more effort, he was doing his homework and was actually enjoying class. There was the bullying from Dash and the A-Listers, but it wasn't anything he couldn't handle, he was ignoring them for the most part.
Come Monday after the funeral, and Danny breaks Dash's nose when he starts up with his shit. He withdrew into himself, and it was like he was back to square one again, except this time it was much worse.
Everyone knew Danny was close friends with Jason Todd. So when news of his death finally reached the ears of Amity Park, the students of Casper High School kept their distance.
That following Friday, Danny dies in the portal and comes back. A month later he becomes Phantom, the ghost-fighting ghost. the ghost Phantom wears his hazmat suit partially undone, showing a tanktop he didn't wear in death under the initial suit while the sleeves are tied around his waist. Vicious, glowing lichtenburg scars travel up his arm and neck and torso, covering half of his face while a pair of scientist-like goggles covers his eyes. He's bitter and angry, showing off his death.
Look at me, Phantom's form says, I am a dead child. Look at me look at me look at me. Mourn me. I am a dead child. LOOK AT ME. MOURN ME.
A few weeks later he enters the ghost zone and realizes that he could find Jason. And he spends a weekend scouring the ghost zone for him. He finds Gotham in the zone, and rather than finding Jason, he finds Robin.
Danny didn't know he'd died. And he flies towards him, asks him if he's seen Jason, reveals that it's him, Danny Fenton. Robin stares at him, mouth agape, and peels off his mask to reveal Jason Todd.
They both cry, and when Danny tells him how he died, Jason looks pale in the face. "You didn't- you didn't kill yourself because of me, did you?"
Danny fervently denies it. No, no. He didn't, he didn't. It was an accident. Totally unrelated. But enough about that, what the hell happened? Bruce wouldn't tell him anything at the funeral.
Jason clams up, his ghostly face losing its color, and Danny curses himself. He tells Jason that he doesn't have to tell him, he doesn't have to say anything. They sit in silence.
"It was the Joker." Jason says.
That's all Danny needs to know. He nods quietly. 'I'll kill him.' He thinks to himself, a stubborn set in his jaw. "Okay."
It had always been a plan; a thought wriggling in the back of Danny's mind ever since Bruce told him that Jason had been killed.
Not died. Killed.
Danny wanted the fucker dead the moment he realized it. He just needed to know who did it. He thinks Bruce knew it too, could probably see it in his eyes the moment Danny asked him who did it. He isn't sure if he should hate Bruce more for keeping it from him now.
They spend hours together, just soaking in each other's presence. Danny tries to take him through the ghost portal, to bring him back to the land of the living. But much like Kitty, Jason's form is tied to the zone. Danny promises to visit every day.
And he does. Or he tries to. The grief doesn't go away, but with the comfort of knowing that Jason was on the other side, Danny feels a little better. He tells Jason about being Phantom, and Jason helps train him. It feels like they're kids again and are fighting just because they want to. Its a bout of familiarity in a place that feels unfamiliar. All they need are cigarettes.
And then six months later he loses him again. Danny scours the ghost zone for him for the second time, and this time he doesn't find him.
His haunt is still in the zone though. He didn't move on. He's still here, somewhere.
Danny is convinced that Jason was in the Elsewhereness, and looks for him in between ghost fights and his social life. He visits Jason's haunt every day, knowing that Jason should be able to feel when another ghost enters his home. He does not show up.
(He never thinks that Jason came back to life, and Jason doesn't remember his time in the ghost zone)
When Danny is nineteen, Vlad Masters blackmails him into going to another Wayne Gala. Begrudgingly, Danny goes. He's taller than he used to be, having inherited his dad's monstrous height and his mom's leanness. He has piercings, some of them he got after a lost bet from Sam and Tucker, and he's given himself an undercut.
He still prefers vests over suit jackets, and he still smokes. A little less than before, he sneaks a pack into his pocket before he leaves, along with a lighter. Vlad gives him a dirty look the whole time - he knows.
"Don't give me that look."
"That stuff kills, you know"
"I'm already dead."
It's like deja vu when he arrives; an awful bout of deja vu, that is. The paparazzi is still as bright and loud and annoying as it always was, and they don't recognize him at all. Something he thinks of as a soft mercy up until one of the reporters asks Vlad who he is.
Vlad smiles and tugs Danny into the camera frame, "Why, this is my godson!" He crows, and shoots Danny a look that is downright smug I'm sure many of you may know him as Daniel Fenton?"
If looks could kill, Vlad would be ash. Danny isn't quite sure why he still agreed to this -- blackmail or no. He felt itchy being in Gotham; jumpy. He's never forgotten his vow to kill the Joker, in fact it was something he still desperately wants.
But the threat of Rath, the name he chose for his evil future self, haunts him just as much as his murderous intent. If he kills the Joker, would he stop?
Danny's almost afraid of what he'll do if he ever lays eyes on the Joker in person. He doesn't think he'll be able to stop himself from wrapping his hands around that stupid clown's neck and watching the light leave his eyes.
He pushes the thoughts to the side, and smiles lopsidedly as cameras and microphones flood his face, reporters yelling over themselves as they clamor to get a shot of the old Wayne family friend.
Danny turns and walks inside without answering a single question, flexing his fingers in and out of fists. Vlad gracefully hurries after him, and Danny can hear his glare burning into his back.
"You told me to come," Danny hisses to him once he's beside him, meeting Vlad's gaze piercingly, "not that I should play nice."
"Don't embarrass me, Daniel." Vlad hisses back, trying to look the upmost calm as eyes turn onto them. "I'll make you regret it."
"You embarrass yourself, fruitloop." Danny shoots back, walking away before Vlad could get a retort in. He sees Bruce Wayne on the other side of the room.
His heart seizes with nostalgia. He hasn't seen Bruce since Jason's funeral, hasn't spoken to him either. He doesn't know how to feel about him, but he'd been keeping tabs on Bruce both as himself and as Batman.
Danny's feet carry him forwards before he can think about it, silently weaving between the throng of rich people vying for his attention. It's only when he gets closer does he see the little shadow clinging to his side: Damian Wayne.
The newest little bird, Danny realizes, and stifles a smile at the surly expression on Damian's face as two older women coo over him. He reminded him of Sam, who had long since stopped coming to these things the moment she was able to.
The feeling of eyes on him turns Danny's attention away from Damian, and instead finds them back on Bruce's, who stares at him with a little furrow between his brows. As if he recognized him, but he wasn't sure from there.
Danny grins crookedly the moment he's within earshot. "Mister B!" He exclaims, slipping into what remained of his Gotham street accent. Recognition flashed in Bruce's eyes, and the man smiled widely. "Long time no see, old man."
"Danny," Bruce says, his name breathing out like relief. He slips between the crowd surrounding him -- who are now watching Danny -- and pulls Danny into a close hug. "It's good to see you again."
Danny hesitates for a moment -- he wasn't expecting Bruce to hug him -- and returns the gesture. "It's good to see you too, Bruce." He admits. Bruce was still using the same cologne that he did when Danny was a kid. He blinks heavily.
He pulls away quickly, clapping Bruce lightly on the shoulder as Damian quickly latches onto his father's side again. Damian glares daggers at him, fingers digging into Bruce's pantlegs like a possessive little kid.
He made Danny's ghost sense tingle in the back of his throat, creeping up slowly like a spider before stopping suddenly before it reached his mouth. It hummed, and then disappeared.
Danny smothered a frown. Since when did Batman work with ectoplasm? “This must be Damian." He says to Bruce, and holds out a hand to Damian -- he doesn't crouch, he had a feeling that Damian would be less than appreciative if he did that. "You've really expanded the nest since the last time I saw you."
Damian's eyes narrow at him. Bruce laughs lightly, "Ah yes, Tim is around here somewhere. I'm sure you'll see him soon."
"Father," Damian says, his voice layered with an accent. He glares up at Danny with piercing green eyes. "How do you know this man?" He sounds distrustful, Danny respects that and drops his hand.
"This is Danny Fenton." Bruce says, and Danny lets him introduce him. "He was Jason's friend."
An expression similar to bewilderment flashes briefly over Damian's face, and he eyes Danny in disbelief. "Todd had friends?"
Oh. So that's how he wanted to be. Bruce had a little elitist on his hands. Danny's smile drops like a deadweight, and any lingering endearment he had hardens like ice in his chest, fury slowly taking its place like a flickering candlelight. "It's not polite to speak ill of the dead, Mister Wayne." He says coldly, his voice made of chips of ice.
Damian blinks, the disbelief disappearing from his face. The closest thing to a recoil Danny thinks he's going to get. He doesn't care. No one speaks about his best friend that way.
"I grew up with Jason, actually." He continues, breathing in slow and deep, trying to keep the ghostly possessive-protective-rage under control. "I was his best friend."
He turns, almost robotically, towards Bruce, and tries not to look so angry. "I'm going to go find Tim, Mister B." He says, and tries to offer up a weak smile for the man. It comes out as a grimace instead.
"And..." he pauses, flicks his eyes towards Damian, and then looks at Bruce. "I'll... try and keep in contact, B. Tell Dick I said hi, alright? I'll see you in a little bit."
Bruce nods, looking vaguely disappointed and sighing slow through his nose. Danny walks away as Bruce turns to address his youngest, and doesn't bother listening in on what he has to say.
He does, eventually, find Tim Drake. He spots him in a crowd instantly - it's hard not to, and he makes his way over to him. He's not sure Tim Drake would recognize him, Bruce didn't at first and Danny had been around him constantly.
Except Tim Drake does recognize him, much to Danny's surprise. They lock eyes and Tim immediately makes his way over to him. "Danny Fenton!" He says and stops in front of him, "What a surprise, we weren't expecting you tonight."
"Tim Drake," Danny replies, smiling a little as his earlier hurt begins to fade away. "I'm surprised you know me."
"There are pictures of you in the manor with Jason." Tim explains, stuffing his hands into his pockets with an easy-going smile. "It's hard not to know you."
"It’s hard not to know you too,” Danny retorts, a sly smile slowly spreading across his face. “Although you’re a lot taller than you used to be, when you were lurking around Bruce and Jason and I.”
Ohhh Danny recognizes him alright. One part due to all the news articles and tabloids on him after he was adopted by Bruce, and the other part because he remembers the little shadow lurking near plants pots and table legs that used to follow him and Jason around at galas just like these.
Knowing that Jason was Robin, he wonders if Jason knew he was there too.
The effect is immediate: Tim’s eyes grow comically large, and a red tint glows at the tip of his ears as he shrinks back like a turtle trying to hide into its shell. “You— you noticed that!?” He hisses.
“I did!” Danny grins, large and wide, stifling a laugh as the red tint spreads over Tim’s cheeks and nose. He looks mortified. Danny coos. “Aww, I thought it was adorable that Jason had a little shadow. I’m sure he would have loved you if you had just come over and said hi. He had a big soft spot for kids.”
Tim snorts and it— it almost sounds derisive? “Sure he would.” He looks sad, and the mirth in Danny’s chest shrivels up like a flower without light. The smile fades from his face, and all that’s left is a strange, staunch reminder that Danny and Bruce weren’t the only ones that probably mourned.
He touches Tim’s shoulder lightly, “Hey, I’m sorry.” He says, trying to look as apologetic as he feels. “I didn’t mean to make you feel bad. I’m sorry, I miss him too.” Like a fucking limb he missed him.
There’s something that flickers in Tim’s eyes, passing through too fast for Danny to realize what it is. He assumes its gratefulness, because Tim relaxes a little and offers him a weak little smile. “I wish I had talked to him.”
Danny sees an out and takes it, he forces out a short laugh, grinning widely. “I can tell you all about him if you’d like,” he offers, “I told Mister B I’d keep in touch anyways. I’ve missed him and Alfred quite a lot in the last few years.”
“Not Dick?”
“That dipstick wasn’t around often enough for me to form any sort of emotional attachment to him.” Danny says in a half-complaining tone, placing his hands on his hips. “Although I did like his puns.”
Tim snickers, “I’ll tell him you said that then. Nobody likes his puns.”
“Go on ahead,” Danny grins, laughter swirling in his chest and making his core thrum with warmth. Damn, he’s missed this family. “I stand by my decision. Puns are funny.”
“Let’s get a photo then.” Tim says with a hand already fishing in his pocket for his phone. “He’ll be devastated to know that you were here and he didn’t get to see you.”
“Sure.” And Danny sidles on next to Tim, throwing an arm around his shoulders — and making a noise of surprise when his arm was able to fit comfortably — as if he was just resting it on a counter.
He totally forgot how tall he was compared to Tim. Forgot that he’d been looking down the entire time they’d been talking. “Why’d I get my dad’s height.” He complains, and bends his knees as Tim raises the phone with the front-facing camera on.
Tim snickers under his breath, and takes the picture while they’re both smiling wide. Danny immediately stands up, and peers over Tim’s shoulders to look at the picture.
It’s a good one, with the fringe of Danny’s curls falling slightly over his left eye and making the dimple on his right cheek more prominent. He could see the barely-there smattering of freckles he had across his nose, the ones that became more prominent when the sun was out. His smile was lopsided, Danny’s favorite kind of smile.
He whistles lowly, “That’s a good one,” he says aloud, and smiles impishly at Tim when he looks at him. “You should send that one, I look hot in it.”
Tim snorts, his ears reddening as he looks down at his phone. “Yeah sure, no problem.” He says quickly, and Danny looks away when he pulls up the messenger app. He’s never felt comfortable looking over people’s shoulders when they were on their phone.
“I’m gonna go take a smoke break.” He shoves his hands into his pockets and curls his fingers around the box and lighter inside. “I’ll—“
“Be on the west-end balcony.” Tim finishes, the red in his ears darkening as he glances up from his phone to smile embarrassedly. “I know.”
Danny snorts, “Okay.” His voice is thick with amusement. “Let me know how Dipstick reacts, alright?” He backs up slowly, awaiting Tim’s response. Tim merely waves a hand at him, a weak gesture of “yeah yeah” that makes Danny grin before he flips around and marches towards his favorite smoking balcony.
———————
(Tim pulls up the family group chat and loads the selfie into the text bar. His face feels warm with embarrassment even as his thumbs fly across the screen.
Tim: look who i found at the latest charity gala :) [image]
Hee awaits eagerly a response, and finds he doesn’t have to wait long. Dick’s thought bubble appears on screen, then Cass’s — of which it only exists for a moment before disappearing.
Dick: holy shit, is that who i think it is?
Tim responds quickly, and his message sends.
Tim: yep. He wanted me to tell you that he thinks your jokes are funny.
Dick: they are funny
Tim rolls his eyes and thinks for a moment, really thinks. He weighs his pros and cons. And then his fingers fly across the screen again.
Tim: hey Jason are you not gonna say anything?
There’s no response for all of thirty seconds — of which it stretches on to an uncomfortably long minute — and then Jason’s thought bubble appears.
Jason: what do i have to say to a bunch of idiots blowing up my phone in the middle of patrol?
Tim: harsh. do you recognize the guy in the photo?
Jason’s response is instant. Too fast for him to have actually looked at the photo itself. He’s just trying to spite Tim then. Tim doesn’t care, he has the upper hand here
Jason: no and I don’t care, i have patrol
Tim knows he didn’t look at the photo, and yet he can’t help stifle a shit-eating smile and feign innocence
Tim: really? You and Danny used to be so close, color me surprised
His teeth dig into his lower lip, he doesn’t need to in order to hide a smile. But it gives him something to do. Jason is worryingly silent for a long, long time, and Tim can almost imagine him staring long and hard at the selfie. Tim knows he will be later.
Finally, Jason’s text bubble shows up. It exists for a long time, before finally Tim’s phone buzzes with his message alert.
Jason: that’s danny?
Tim feels all too gleeful. Smugness swirling in his chest like kicked up sand as he types his response: yep! Apparently he showed up today, although I’m not sure with who since I don’t see Miss Manson around here.
Damian: Father says to get off your phone, Drake. We are at a Gala and your behavior is most unbecoming
Tim: can it demon spawn, I was just telling Jason that his friend Danny is here
Damian: He can’t be too important if he doesn’t even know Todd is alive
Tim: how would you know that?
Damian: When Father introduced him as Todd’s friend, I expressed my surprise that Todd even had friends, considering how unpleasant he can be. Fenton became quite cross with me after that and quickly excused himself thereafter
Dick: you said what!? Damian that’s not okay
Damian: Father made that quite clear after Fenton left in a huff. My mistake for thinking that Todd had told his ‘supposed best friend’ that he was alive.
Dick: he didn’t even tell us we were alive at first
Damian: He did eventually, didn’t he? Clearly Todd doesn’t seem to care too much about Fenton if he hasn’t even informed him of his being alive at this point.
Jason’s thought bubble quickly pops up, and then dissipates, then pops up again. Tim quickly pockets his phone before he can see Jason’s response. He doesn’t feel smug anymore, just uncomfortable.)
———————
Stepping out onto the west-end balcony feels like a blast from the past. A painful one at that. Danny’s fingers dig into his cigarette pack, and he pulls it out with a sense of bittersweet familiarity.
It feels like a lifetime ago that he once stood here with Jason. The package clunks dully as his fingers scrape against the side, and he fishes a cigarette out of the box before stuffing it back into his pocket.
“Quite the night isn’t it.” He says to nothing, to ghosts of the past, to himself. He turns and sits on the railing, sticking his legs out like a tripping hazard while Gotham’s hot city wind blows through the air.
He looks up and only sees the ugly pollution yellow sky looking down at him. It’s an unfamiliar feeling to him. He loves the stars and yet when faced with a smog that covers it, he feels more at home.
Danny’s fingers find the lighter, and with a few clicks a small open flame appears in existence. There’s a poem here, he can feel it. But he feels too tired to find it.
The cigarette lights, and the lighter dies in response. Returning back to his coffin-like pocket until he needs to use it again. He pulls a leg up, resting his chin on his knee with a heavy, tired sigh.
He soaks in the sounds around him. The ugly city warmth nips at his jaw. The music inside is muffled by the force of two glass doors and walls on all four sides, and Danny can hear late night traffic coming by on the road nearby. It’s a special kind of ambience you can only find on the west end balcony.
Half a decade ago, Danny had played a part with that ambience with Jason. Now it was just him, and Jason was nowhere to be found. It left a hopeless kind of feeling in his chest. An all-suffocating kind of fear that filled him head to toe with an intensity only ghosts could have.
His body winds up like a spring, and Danny holds his breath. When he exhales two minutes later, the spring stutters and jolts, and his body relaxes with a tremble.
He misses Jason. He misses Jason.
Ghosts are emotional creatures. They feel it from their crown to their soles. And emotional wounds never really heal. They scab over and fester, waiting to be picked at again and again so it can bleed as fresh as it did when it first opened.
Danny’s grief is never going to go away, he thinks. It’s clung to him like a parasite; shaped him and molded him. The wound was too close to him when he died, and now it will stay with him forever.
He opens his eyes when his ghost sense tingles, a heavy feeling in his throat that is neither nicotine nor grief. It’s just like Damian’s, but stronger. Potent. Older. It reaches the top of Danny’s throat and sits at the base of his tongue, like a hand about to suffocate him.
He looks up, cigarette hanging off his lips, and the Red Hood drops down beside him. He stands in the same spot Jason once did, and that alone makes the ghostly core in Danny seize possessively.
Don’t you dare stand where he stood, it hisses, coiling around his lungs like smog. Danny grits his teeth and feels his ghost sense evaporate. He pulls the cigarette out of his mouth, and nicotine smoke pours out like a cheap version of his ghost sense.
“Red Hood.” He says plainly, his free hand coiling and uncoiling like cat’s claws against the railing. “A surprise to see you here.”
Danny knows through process of elimination who most of the Gotham vigilantes are: Dick is Nightwing, Bruce is Batman, Tim is Red Robin, Damian is Robin, and Cass is Orphan. There are a few who he doesn’t know, however. Like Batgirl and Red Hood.
It’s fine, he doesn’t need to know. Danny of all people understands the importance of a secret identity.
Red Hood doesn’t say anything, just stares at him as if he’s a deer in headlights. His body all tensed up like he isn’t sure what to do now that he’s here in front of Danny. Like he wasn’t expecting Danny to be here at all.
Danny’s brows furrow. “Sorry, am I in your spot?” He asks, and begins to push off the railing. “I didn’t think vigilantes used the Wayne Hall west-end balcony, I can leave if you want.”
He’s already begun to move towards the door.
The Red Hood lurches in his spot, “No!” He yells, and Danny stops in place with raising eyebrows. Red Hood’s fingers cringe, and he straightens up.
He’s shorter than Danny, he notes. Which isn’t much of revelation. Everyone is shorter than Danny.
“No,” Red Hood repeats, sounding sturdier than before, “No. You’re fine. I’m just stopping here for a quick rest before resuming patrol.”
…Danny doesn’t question it. It’s none of his business about other vigilantes and their practices. He shrugs and breathes out more smoke, “Alright.” He says, and walks back over to the railing to sit on it. “I’m Danny, by the way.”
The Red Hood nods, and a silence falls over them. Danny doesn’t care enough to make it feel uncomfortable, but the Red Hood seems unsettled by something. Lost in thought. He leans his back against the railing similar to Danny, and then switches a few seconds later to a new pose.
He does it again, and again, and again. Until finally he flips over and leans his stomach against the railing, arms resting against it. It is starkly like what Jason used to do, and Danny stares at him long and hard.
He frowns. And says nothing.
When Danny’s cigarette is nothing more than a butt of nicotine, he crushes it in his hand and watches the ash flutter down to the ground. The heat stings his hand, but its nothing his ghostly healing can’t fix.
The Red Hood is already holding out another one when Danny’s hand drifts to his pocket for the box.
Danny stares at him, sudden wariness opening up like floodgates that sit at the bottom of his stomach.
His frown deepens, his eyes flicker up and down at Red Hood. His hands hover over his pocket. “I have my own.” He says, and watches subtly as the Red Hood hides a wilt. As if he’d been expecting Danny to take it.
“Alright.” The Red Hood says, trying to sound unbothered. He retracts the cigarette away from Danny, quiet all the way. He’s looking away.
Danny plucks the cigarette out of his hand, startling the Hood enough that Red snaps back to look at him. Danny yanks his lighter from his pocket. “I won’t say no to a free cigarette.” He says, slightly muffled with the stick between his teeth. It lights.
Silence falls over them again, and when one minute stretches into five, whatever hope that had been digging into the shoulders of Red Hood finally pulls away and leaves him slumping subtly.
‘A ciggie for your thoughts?’ Nine year old Jason Todd whispers one night with an impish grin, holding up a cigarette pinched between his two fingers. ‘I stole it from my old man. He won’t even notice its gone.’
Danny is halfway through it when he speaks. “The Joker killed my best friend.” He says, and watches from the corner of his eye as the Red Hood flinches. Is he startled by Danny speaking, or startled by the bluntness of him starting?
“He beat him to death.” Danny continues, staring stone-faced away from Red Hood. His grief claws up his lungs and burrows into his heart again. His fingers dig into the railing. “He beat my best friend to death.”
The Red Hood is silent, his body as still as the grave. Silence stretches out between them both, and like he’d been thinking, the Hood finally speaks: “How do you know?”
He’s not holding the cigarette, he broke his and Jason’s rule. Danny bounces the stick between his fingers. “His ghost told me.” He says, taking a trembling breath. “His ghost told me so, before he disappeared.��
The Red Hood says nothing, and Danny gathers his thoughts. The ones that had been buried deep next to his core, shoved down ever since Danny learned of Rath and a terrible future where a world is destroyed by one ghost’s hands.
Danny has never said it out loud before. His face scrunches up briefly, and then smooths out when his eyes squeeze shut. “I’m going to kill him, Red Hood.” He murmurs when he opens his eyes, turning his face toward the vigilante. The sound is sucked out of the air.
The Red Hood stares at him, but he doesn’t say a word. Danny pushes on, teeth grinding into teeth as he flips his silvery scarred hand back and forth. Palm up, palm down. “It’s why I haven’t been back to Gotham in a while.” He admits, voice still quiet. “If I see the Joker I will kill him, and I won’t feel bad for it.”
“Not today though,” he says, and closes his hand, “today I’m here on a favor to Vlad Masters. Then after this I’ll go visit my friend. I need to apologize for not seeing his grave in a while. I’ll have to stop by a florist to see if they have any zinnias. Jay likes those.”
He takes out the cigarette in his mouth and breathes out one last cloud of smoke. And then he crushes the cigarette stick under his foot and walks back inside.
#….AND THATS ALL I HAVE FOR THIS AU#dp x dc crossover#dp x dc#dpxdc#danny fenton is not the ghost king#dpxdc crossover#dp crossover#dpdc#dp dc crossover#childhood friends au#whats the jasonxdanny ship name again??#Undead ship?#no no wait its dead on main#dead on main#cw cigarettes#cw smoking#smoking tw#oh fuck this got long (story of my life) but onfg i didnt wanna make#more than one part#anyways Danny and Jason are buddies uwu#thank god that tumblr has a seemingly endless word count#one sided timxdanny#tim’s crush on danny is basically the same thing#as a little sibling developing a crush on their older brother’s friend#he’ll get over it in a few months#its a small infatuation not to worry#danny is completely oblivious to it#thanks dc writers for making Tim imortally sixteen#it makes everyone else’s ages a little easier to remember#you can see me running out of steam at the last stretch of this monster thing
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We came to a young world. We came to a world of raw, elemental wonder. Of chaos and exultant passion. Of energy vaster, and more potent than anything we beheld in the cosmos... It doesn’t seem like it’s random or chaos. It just seemed like potential.
#critical role#criticalroleedit#critteredit#aabria iyengar#brennan lee mulligan#matthew mercer#cr exu#cr calamity#cr2#cr3#basil.gif#long post#it's about magic it's about potential it's about life it's about stories it's about exandria being a beacon it's about let's do it again#i mean it's also my thoughts on how the luxon maybe made leylines when they impacted/scattered#+ how cool that is when u examine the magic of exandria especially when u consider. luxon = leylines = ether = dunamancy = magic#(some quotes that Almost made it in were matt saying that all magic basically falls under dunamancy + the description of ether)#not to mention the tharizdun connections of a being of elemental chaos & what that could mean for the relationship between the luxon + them#and ruidus and exandria. i also have so many ashton thoughts re: elements + divine + being a fucking beacon but that's for another set lmao#also aabria's!!! dark motes of potential!! what's that about!! i gotta rewatch exu sdfjkh this was just everything off the top of my head#also real spiral shit here but the first person to officially find a beacon post calamity being named leylas. COINCIDENCE. most likely yes#also thinking about draconic being one of the like. languages of magic esp when you think about Elements. but i'm gonna stop now
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it is all chaos and entropy. the thing is that the chaos and entropy make it beautiful and lovely.
yes, it's true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is terrifying. i have lived through some of the unfairness - i got born like this, with my body caving into itself, with this ironic love of dance when i sometimes can't stand up for longer than 15 minutes. i am a poet with hands that are slowly shutting down - i can't hold a pen some days. recently i found a dead bird on our front porch. she had no visible injuries. she had just died, the way things die sometimes.
it is also true that nature and the universe are uncaring and unspecific, and that is wonderful. the sheer happenstance that makes rain turn into a rainbow. the impossible coincidence of finding your best friend. i have made so many mistakes and i have let myself down and i have harmed other people by accident. nature moves anyway. on the worst day of my life she delivers me an orange juice sunset, as if she is saying try again tomorrow.
how vast and unknowing the universe! how small we are! isn't that lovely. the universe has given us flowers and harp strings and the shape of clouds. how massive our lives are in comparison to a grasshopper. the world so bright, still undiscovered. even after 30 years of being on this earth, i learned about a new type of animal today: the dhole.
chance echoing in my life like a harmony between two people talking. do you think you and i, living in different worlds but connected through the internet - do you think we've ever seen the same butterfly? they migrate thousands of miles. it's possible, right?
how beautiful the ways we fill the vastness of space. i love that when large amounts of people are applauding in a room, they all start clapping at the same time. i love that the ocean reminds us of our mother's heartbeat. i love that out of all the colors, chlorophyll chose green. i love the coincidences. i love the places where science says i don't know, but it just happens.
"the universe doesn't care about you!" oh, i know. that's okay. i care about the universe. i will put my big stupid heart out into it and watch the universe feast on it. it is not painful. it is strange - the more love you pour into the unfeeling world, the more it feels the world loves you in return. i know it's confirmation bias. i think i'm okay if my proof of kindness is just my own body and my own spirit.
i buried the bird from our porch deep in the woods. that same day, an old friend reaches out to me and says i miss you. wherever you go, no matter how bad it gets - you try to do good.
#writeblr#warm up#i can't write rn but i have SO much words in here bc im reading the chorus of dragons books#(just started book 4)#and this woman's writing is just LIVING in my brain. let me out!!!#(i read roughly like 2-4 books a week usually bc i go on long walks with my dog but when a book is REALLY good like. it eats my life. )#anyway ...... so like here's a story that idk i've tried to explain to other people as being wild#but maybe im the only one who thinks it is wild???#so i play pokemon go (i just started in jan) bc i love pokemon and as i have mentioned i walk goblin for like an hour in the morning#and i don't like a lot of fitness trackers due to the fact it makes me .sad. but i also wanted the little digital rewards. enter pokemon go#anyway so they make you make friends to complete quests. so i used a reddit thread. i do not usually use reddit. i don't have an acct#i lurked. i just googled like ''pokemon go reddit '' and randomly added a bunch of numbers#i was on that page for all of 15 minutes. there are THOUSANDS of responses on that page.#here's what's wild: in that group of people. even though i am not on reddit and it was one random event once#it turns out one of those people lives in the town i live in. or at least very close. i only know this because#when we send each other gifts. it's from the same freaking area.#i can't ask them to meet up bc pokemon go doesn't have a messaging app lol but like . what are the fucking chances that#a random person posts in a random reddit thread and HAPPENS to get added by someone ELSE from their SAME TOWN#who by pure fucking CHANCE is ALSO playing pokemon go and looking for friends#i googled it there's only 42000 people in my broad region. the .......... smallness ! of the world!!!
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Disney, releasing Wish: "so it's all about legacy--the new generation surpassing the old, overcoming the evils perpetuated by them, relinquishing singular power... and there's an old man in a tower, uh... animal sidekick, i guess..., ah... magic...?
Miyazaki, just out of frame, sledgehammer raised:
#the boy and the heron#not tagging wish 'cause i'm being a little acidic#this isn't to be negative in the slightest--I really respect both films--but it's interesting to see how visceral boy+H gets with its story#what evils have to be rejected and what they represent--and how characters and the world suffer from those evils--as well as how the whole#'rejecting' part goes. in terms of animation powerhouses discussing their legacies - disney and miyazaki both - I find it interesting that#one makes a pretty safe and nostalgic movie about imagination and dreams; the other is a long trudge through the land of the dead.#b+h is a hard watch - and a look at the legacy of a man questioning his whole purpose in the world - after his cultural touchstones#have long passed by. Mahito needs to understand his grief to keep living--but if he drowns in it he'll just continue the cannibalistic and#violent world of his granduncle. how the hell do you make art when the trauma of your entire life has colored it forever? How can anyone?#maybe after a while... it's time to detonate that damn tower and keep living.#this is to say#if you have enough money to make whatever you want#Make It Fucking Count
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Fam how can one be trans in the direction of their assigned sex? I'm not even trying to make the idea sound ridiculous or anything. I'm genuinely curious and want to understand. I thought the whole meaning of trans was that you feel or act in the opposite direction of your assigned sex; if you're transfem but you're afab then to me that's just cisgender??? But like please explain to me how that's not the case if that's what you and others strongly feel so I may grow my compassion
Context: [Link]
well ! while I personally am not intersex, I DO want to highlight intersex people first and foremost.
gender and sex are very Very complex, and I think generally people don't consider the way that being intersex can play a big role in that!
there are intersex people who are afab who are also trans women, there are intersex people who are amab who are trans men, there are intersex people with many Many different relationships with sex and gender and anywhere in between !
an afab person can be born with masculine sex characteristics and transition the way trans women often do. that person May identify as trans, they may not ! that trans person may not even consider themselves a woman depending on who they are and what they want !
I Do think there needs to be an effort to be aware of and make space for intersex people within the trans community, and really the wider queer community as a whole. as it's often something that's given a footnote without deeper thought into the ways that intersex people Actually interact with our communities.
which I don't blame people for not already knowing ! that's the whole point of trying to educate people in the first place ^^
.
and as for Myself
labels are, ultimately, a form of gender presentation. what you call yourself is an extension of not only how you see yourself, but how Other People perceive you.
I could call myself nonbinary or I could call myself trans masc, and both would be Accurate. but people have certain traits and expectations and associations when they see those labels. there are assumptions made about the kind of life that I live, the things that I want, the things I might experience, that change depending on which labels that I use.
and that's not Inherently a bad thing ! I mean, that's part of why people Like labels. but it Can be a struggle for people whose gender is Funny.
I could Also describe myself as genderqueer or multi-gender or genderfluid or gnc or-. I've tried on lots and lots of labels, and for the most part I haven't thrown any of them out, I just keep them in a box under my bed and take them out when relevant.
I've been wrestling with the feminine aspect of my identity for a very Very long time. I've been aware that I'm some level of trans masc. that part was easy. I want a deeper voice, I want things about my body to change, I don't want people to look at me and see a cis woman.
but I Also like femininity. I've found that after accepting myself as trans masc and slowly growing an environment where I am Perceived as masculine, I've started getting euphoria at presenting femininely in the Same way that I did (and do!) get about presenting masculinely.
but that feeling doesn't carry over when I'm perceived as a cis woman. it's Quite Uncomfortable for obvious gender reasons.
and while I may not know the exact Words that I'd use to describe it (as I've said, I've been chewing on it for Many years now), I've gotten a clearer idea of how I Feel.
I want to be Visibly trans. I want to be perceived masculinely And femininely. I want to transition masculinely to present femininely (and sometimes butch, sometimes like your dad at the ace hardware store, I contain multitudes).
and of course, figuring out what I have going on has involve a lot of exploration ! it's the same way I figured out the whole trans masc thing in the first place. seeking out other trans people and other Things About trans people feeling things out.
I find ! that I have a lot of shared experiences with transfeminine people. both in how I feel about certain things, some of the presentation that I want, and in how people would React To said presentation.
my femininity Is Trans, I don't relate to cis womanhood. but I Do relate to trans femininity. which is really awkward for me, because it's difficult to describe it to other people fjksldljkasfdjklfasd
(I don't personally consider myself a trans woman mind, but I'm certain there Are people who are trans men and trans women at the same time. gender is complicated, sex is complicated. labels are malleable and sometimes situational)
Could I describe myself with a different label? probably ! I've got lots of them. but when I Don't put emphasis on this aspect of myself people assume that it's not there. insist that it Couldn't be there, and I don't know what I'm talking about. and those people who Would act nasty towards me probably aren't gonna change their mind just because I changed my bio. but it feels Nice to assert that aspect of myself when other people are trying to tear it down.
.
part of me feels like I should post the intersex portion of this by itself, because people tend to engage more with shorter posts and there's nothing Short about my gender situation ljkfdasjkls
but ! I dunno, if this makes even one person understand the gray areas of gender and presentation a little more it'll be worth it.
thank you for taking the time to ask ! and especially for doing so kindly ! I do hope you'll see this
#discourse#long post#intersex#genderqueer#nonbinary#multigender#trans unity#queer unity#moral of the story is that gender is a fuck
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someday I'll make a post about jim hawkins inheriting the legacy of captain flint, and the way that that connection is emboldened by the writers of black sails deciding that flint's first name is james
#other adaptations give flint other names!!!!!!!!#but the bs writer's room said what if the two people who defined the story of long john silver#(its beginning with flint and its ending with hawkins)#had the same fucking name#bluh bluh#black sails#treasure island#anyway I'm not making this post NOW bc it's 9 am and I haven't slept
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rewatched bsd w my friend seeing it for the first time and the nostalgia of seeing these two together again hit me like a bus
#literally mom and dad of the agency#dazai and kunikida protect yokohama but more importantly they also protect atsushi#funny story but we were watching in sub and the translations were wack bc when i watched dazai refers to kunikida as his colleague#but in the version we were watching he just called him partner w/o any context it was so fucking funny😭#bro rly just pointed to a random man across the river and was like “oh that's my partner btw!! we can use his money to treat you to dinner!#my bestie made me pause the show and was like “????partner. are they married??? either way it's cute that there's mlm rep in this anime🥺”#i was genuinely holding back tears#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd#dazai osamu#osamu dazai#kunikida doppo#doppo kunikida#kunikidazai#knkdz#lotus draws#SRY FOR THE UNGODLY HR IM POSTING AT I DIDNT WANT TO LOSE THE MOTIVATION I SUDDENLY GOT AFTER WATCHING THE FIRST FEW EPS#IVE WANTED TO DRAW THESE TWO FOR SO LONG IDK WHAT TOOK ME SO LONG😭😭😭😭
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