[id: two hannukah themed sketches featuring the main trio from danny phantom.
in the first, the camera is outside a window, looking into a cozy living room with the fireplace roaring. several menorahs lay on the windowsill. closer to the viewer, tucker holds a shamash and waves his hand erratically; sam laughs at him. an arrow declares that he's "on fire". further down the windowsill, danny floats in phantom form, lighting his menorah with ectoplasmic fire.
in the second, sam and danny sit on the floor, playing dreidel. tucker sits in a chair, watching them, eating a sufganiyah. there's a large pile of gelt in the pot, while sam and danny only have a couple pieces. a plate of sufganiyot and latkes sits next to danny. sam grins, ג (gimel) announcing her as the winner. danny looks at her, deadpan. end id]
erm. whag . congrats to the freaks for winning here's some bunnysuit ishimondos under the readmore
(now go vote for mondus)
haii hello um. UMMMM ok . very proud of them for winning this was fun to draw
Holy shit almost forgot my references ok here
sorry they're like messy ok. Sorry for hiding them under a readmore also outfit requests are open for the both of them (I'll look back to see what other stuff I promised dw) ok bye breaks into a million pieces lego style
cough hack wheeze who wants a teeny tiny fantasy au snippet with uhhhh laughingstock Tension. it's like... half a scene! unedited & out of context As Is Tradition
~
“Nothin’ much. I think I’ll poke around nearby towns, shake down some travelers - see what falls into my paws.”
“I’m not sure that’s such a good idea, Barn,” Howdy says. He sweeps aggressively, spreading dirt more than gathering it into the usual neat piles. “Who knows if those ne'er-do-wells are still roaming around the woods - if you and Ed couldn’t take them, what makes you think you could alone? Or- or! What if you stumble across those cultists? I hate to think of you stuck in an ambush with no help coming, knowing fully well that-”
A large paw slips the broom out of his grip and sets it to the side, and Howdy stammers to a stop as Barnaby crowds him against the bar with a soft, “Howdy.”
Howdy swallows hard, bracketed on each side by strong blue arms. The look Barnaby fixes him with dries up his well of words and bristles his fuzz. Howdy’s heart hammers against his ribs. He can feel Barnaby’s body heat, and it’s lighting his blood on fire.
“I’m not gonna be reckless, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Barnaby says. He barely needs to speak louder than a whisper for Howdy to hear him loud and clear. He smells like sweet smoke. “The other day was a one time deal, cross my heart. But, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll take someone with me. I’m sure Jules is itchin’ to get outta town.”
“What would really make me feel better is if you stay,” Howdy blurts, just barely reining in the with me. He tenses, knowing that he’s toeing a dangerous line. One wrong word, and he’ll make the unspoken spoken - but the stress drains out of him as Barn’s eyes go soft. Perhaps that wouldn’t be so bad. Of course there’s no reason to worry, not about this, not with him. There never has been.
“You know I can’t do that,” Barnaby murmurs. “Not yet.”
Howdy doesn’t need to say that he knows. Not for the first time and with any luck, not for the last, it clicks in his mind that they’re on the same page - he doesn’t need to be a telepath to understand the thoughts behind Barnaby’s dark eyes.
Barnaby says it anyway. “I gotta get him back. I can’t… there’s no room for anythin’ else right now.”
Howdy sighs through his nose and slumps against the counter digging into the small of his back. He nods and adjusts the lapels of Barnaby’s vest. His fingers ghost over soft blue, and Barnaby doesn’t flinch at the contact. If anything, he leans the barest millimeter into it. His gaze burns into Howdy’s, even if they aren’t meeting at the moment, but it isn’t a bad feeling. Quite the opposite, actually.
“Well,” Howdy says in a low voice, “if you find a good lead, send for the rest of us. I’ll be there as fast as my four legs can scamper.”
Barnaby smirks. “Even if you need to take a boat?”
“Even so, Barn.”
The smirk slides into something that isn’t a frown, but isn’t a smile. It’s too soft for a grimace, but too intense for simple recognition. Barnaby seems to sway forward, and Howdy is sorely tempted to meet him halfway.
But Barnaby’s claw taps the counter, and he pulls away before anyone’s mind can be made up. Howdy’s hands slip from his lapels, brushing against fur as they fall and knuckles skimming over the smooth, fresh scar cutting across Barnaby’s belly.
“I’ll be back before you know it,” Barnaby says, his eyes crinkling at the corners. He squeezes Howdy’s shoulder and then his back is turned, and he’s leaving. All Howdy can do is watch.
And call out after him, “Your table will be open and waiting for you.”
Barnaby pauses in the doorway and looks over his shoulder at Howdy, and his grin is so full of affection that Howdy may just burst.
“With a free pint?” he asks.
“Hey now, don’t push your luck pal.”
Barnaby bursts out laughing, and Howdy can hear it even after the door thuds closed.