Anyone know the name of that Danny Phantom x DC fic where Danny was an immortal ghost, watched other dimensions with Clockwork, and one day asked clockwork to send him to the DC dimension? The DC storyline changes to incorporate Danny, and he wakes up with almost no memories on the Watchtower. Apparently he was a part of Project Cadmus. Oh, also, he’s way younger in this new dimension. Eventually, we find out that Danny was made using a bit of Nightwing’s DNA, and Nightwing takes Danny home and adopts him. Anyone know that fic?
studying ancient history & archaeology is awesome because you get to follow citations like a little trail of breadcrumbs 😌 and when you reach the end you realize everyone else has been playing the worlds worst game of telephone
this is my best friend, the dipylon oinochoe. its a beautiful little wine jug from the late geometric period. 22cm tall. you may know it from such hits as “paper talking about the early greek alphabet,” or “paper talking about the early greek alphabet,” etc etc. i’ve been researching him for a project lately. and i think i’m the only one who understands him now.
anyways it’s one of the oldest longer inscriptions we have from the late 8th/early 7th cent BCE. everyone and their mother wants to translate this little guy. they’re all reading it and going “oh wow! its got a perfect hexameter at the start! ‘whoever of the dancers dances most delicately!’" and then they all go "Wait What Do Those Last Signs Mean.”
there are 24 different interpretations. but thats fine. whatever. beef over the last signs seems normal enough. you see that a lot. personally i think its too broken to really tell for certain (those fractures are a bit unfortunately placed tbh) but i fear i am also just a very skeptical guy when it comes to definitive translations so my take on that should be considered with a grain of salt.
but because im researching this oinochoe, i'm reading all these articles arguing over what it Means and what the Implications Are. and you would think… its 2025… we’ve kinda all agreed “pots aren’t people” for several decades… surely there’s an analysis somewhere that focuses Solely On This Pot’s Context... idk like trying not to focus solely on its inscription for once???
but no. no, this is too much to ask for apparently. everyone’s going “well it must've belonged to a dancer! lets talk about dance competitions and homer and the gymnasium how this is all reflected in this one jug!” someone even dropped this one line theorizing it was “passed around at a party,” like it has just been consistently assigned as belonging to a dancer you cannot escape this idea. i tried to find any different ideas. i could not.
so i’m stuck here going “Where Is The Context” because it seems to be, uh, Not Discussed Anywhere. every article is citing back towards stephanos koumanoudes (the guy who purchased it in 1880) but they are Also saying “yeah it was found in 1871! source: koumanoudes!” But He’s Not The Guy That Excavated It, Guys, Where Is It From? nobody is giving me the answer. my favorite one is culhed, he just says “under obscure circumstances,” which is quite possibly the least helpful way to describe this somehow nebulous provenance. but then culhed offhandedly cites someone else. just in the footnotes, as you do. and that someone is yannis galanakis, my new hero.
now yannis galanakis (2011) does not give a single flying fuck about the dipylon oinochoe. he is here for one thing and one thing only: an unpublished stirrup jar that was bought by a totally different guy. most of his article is just concerned about this stirrup jar, how it was sold with a skull (??), and Who Sold That Skull. but galanakis’ stirrup jar is, coincidentally, from this same excavation in 1871. so in his article, where he’s referencing all these people associated with private excavations northeast of the dipylon gate (around modern-day plateia eleutherias), galanakis casually drops the line “among the finds associated with these excavations are some of the most important examples of late geometric pottery, like the dipylon oinochoe.” this is 1) more than Literally Everyone Else I Have Been Reading has been saying and 2) PROVIDING PRIMARY SOURCES FOR THIS DIG?
and these sources.... these primary sources have never been mentioned in Any Other Publications re: the dipylon oinochoe??? except MAYBE one from 2013 (coulié) thats in french, apparently only available in print, and the nearest copy is a library 2hrs away from me (so i cant actually verify what she says yet). but every other article about the dipylon oinochoe is basically like “yeah, see powell 1988” -> “yeah, see koumanoudes 1880” -> “i bought this from some guy named ioannes, lol” and its just created this Massive Echo Chamber where the provenance is "Koumanoudes" and the context is "Dancer." when... we have... two publications... written by people who were actually involved in this private excavation (which to be clear here was very much illegal at some points, but ioannes palaiologos do not care abt the government saying Stop Excavating Please). these two sources are hirschfeld (1872) and rayet (1888).
the provenance that these 1870s/80s accounts are providing isnt Actually That Detailed, but there are parts that line up pretty well (ie, swords/spears/knives being found in the graves, murex on top, several layers of successive tombs) which are Totally Absent from later articles talking about the purpose of this vessel, of its inscription, and of its owner/transcriber (which i dont think can be determined Anyways [cf Arrington 2024, this is just a Normal Take i think] but like whatever i guess Pots Are People Now, according to Powell 1988+Binek 2017+Osborne 2006). i phrased it in my paper and my presentation as “its like this oinochoe been totally disconnected from its context” and its to the point where its so egregious that someone will, in one article, drop a reference to galanakis’ research on the excavation of 1871 (where he cites two eyewitness accounts) and not. Not Once have they looked into it.
because if they had. and this is the fucking crazy part ok this is where i Lost My Shit For A Solid Week. there is, in hirschfeld 1872, an identical oinochoe (number 48, page 147 in this journal) with the same damn height (22.5cm; powell 1988 says the dipylon oinochoe is about 23cm) and decoration (a grazing deer) and concentric lines its a goddamn identical piece just judging from the description of it (and hirschfeld very unhelpfully did Not include this jug among his plates). deers grazing arent very common in late geometric pottery, its mostly just the dipylon workshop cranking them out AND theres only a few oinochoe attributed to dipylon workshop so This Is Quite Possibly The Same Vessel (or so i thought, we'll get to that). the one problem is that this vessel is just NOT from dipylon??? its from the old military hospital in athens??? which was built south of the acropolis in 1834??? and they found roman mosaics during that construction??? so this mentioned vessel could actually have been found in the 1830s??? and again nobody has said jack fucking shit about this connection, afaik i am the only one who has ever actually sat down with these Implications all lined up in a row, so i had to try and disprove myself on my own like it was 5d chess. i was the “I Want To Believe” meme but if it was about the dipylon oinochoe being from somewhere near dipylon.
and i'm digging through as many sources as i possibly can find to prove there's a mysterious second jug that might be from this hospital area (which, granted, was still a funerary space during the geometric period). i went through all of hirschfeld's references to alexander conze's plates showing pottery shapes, but they just ended up also being oinochoe, which made me lose my mind even more. hirschfeld would be like "yeah this deer was in this position from conze taf VII-2" and you go "ok so whats conze taf vii-2 look like? oh my fucking god its a GRAZING ANIMAL AGAIN." at some point i ended up reading a phd dissertation from the national and kapodistrian univerisity of athens to know more about this military hospital?? and then i switched gears and went searching through coldstream 1968’s list of geometric pottery (it might be outdated now, but it was the only thorough source i could find atp) and went through Every Single Oinochoe from the dipylon workshop and almost every single one was totally different. like they just could not be this mystery oinochoe (in which case, I Would Have Some Really Bad News About The Dipylon Oinochoe).
until i found my second best friend. munich CVA 3 taf 112. who literally nobody except me gives a shit about. its taf description is 2 paragraphs long. its the exact same height as these two aforementioned oinochoe. it has the exact same deer grazing motif. fuck it, its even got an unknown provenance because it was acquired from Some Guy Named Paul in 1907 (who also has connections to people like furtwängler [most unfortunate last name ever], another guy who wrote about the dipylon oinochoe in 1881). so in my quest to achieve some sort of emotional resolution here i possibly found a sister vessel to the dipylon oinochoe??? and maybe even that jug's provenance. who knows. i dont wanna say anything definitive yet. also if anyone has access to paul julius arndt's personal papers and especially his financial records, hit me up, because where the fuck did he get this identical looking jug.
however. most modern scholarship about the dipylon oinochoe does not care about munich cva 3 taf 112 (and its similarities to the dipylon oinochoe), or the few references to the 1871 excavations at palatia eleutherias several blocks northeast of the dipylon gate (and what little context/descriptions they provide of funerary remains), because they do not care about the dipylon oinochoe. they care about the letters inscribed on it, and they want to debate the meanings of those letters in a self-inflicted vacuum devoid of all other evidence beyond 35 legible signs and 11 fragmentary/illegible ones.
this seems to me to be a futile endeavour, especially seeing as everyone just keeps citing each other as to where the vessel came from & who to look at for more information & cutting it all off at koumanoudes (or, slightly better, galanakis). and i cannot for the life of me fathom why they have all stopped at koumanoudes or galanakis, if they're so desperate to find this concept of a person behind the oinochoe, because they could actually gain some possible insight into that person through the few grave descriptions provided. but they're only citing others who are citing others who are going off of koumanoudes' limited description from an article's addendum in 1880. and i'd argue that this sort of circular discussion strangles any attempt to actually examine the Dipylon oinochoe in a meaningful sense.
I’ve been imagining this story prompt for a week now and am finally writing it down
Danny and Tim are in the same class (college or high school idc) and Tim has a raging fever from some infection he got tumbling around Gotham rooftops and alleys. It’s a filthy city, infections are gonna happen (does he have a spleen? dealers choice).
Danny, Tim, and another classmate are put on a team project for the duration of the class, and the other notices Tim is flushed and sweaty and calls him out for it like “Hey dude I think you’re super sick you should go to the nurse” and puts a hand against Tim’s forehead to test for fever. Tim’s too exhausted to protest. He’s legit almost passing out but good at hiding it.
“Wow he’s really burning up. Danny, feel this.”
“Nah I can never tell,” Danny says. “I run cold so checking temp isn’t something I’m good at.”
“Well maybe that’ll help him wake up a little,” and the other classmate grabs Danny’s hand and puts it against Tim’s cheek.
Tim sighs and presses his face into Danny’s hand like a cat. Danny blushes. Other Classmate laughs and shoves Danny closer to Tim, who absolutely buries his face against Danny’s neck and drags him into a vice-grip-hug.
Danny is sputtering and blushing tomato red.
The teacher finally notices and walks over. Whole class is watching, laughing, whispering. Other Classmate explains to teacher that Tim is super feverish and teacher tells Danny to take Tim to the nurse.
Danny tries to move away but Tim holds on tighter and Danny eventually just sighs and lifts Tim into a princess carry (making more classmates giggle or whistle) before walking out of the room to go find the nurse’s office on campus.
Story extras -
Tim is given some basic meds and the nurse calls his emergency contact to pick him up with orders to visit their family doctor. (Bruce or Dick or anyone else, whichever fits your timeline.)
Tim becomes lucid enough to ask Danny why he’s so cold (he hasn’t let go yet) and Danny says, “Well not every meta can fly or throw laser beams. Some of us are just chilly. And it comes with the perk of not needing a winter jacket.” — in this story Danny isn’t shy about being meta, it’s a good cover to deflect any ghostliness, and being naturally cold is an easy answer alongside being something that’s obvious to anyone who touches him by accident. He plays it off nonchalantly. Maybe he goes on a rant about metahuman rights and how just because some people got a funky gene it doesn’t always result in superheroes and villains, some people are just accountants who hiccup bubbles.
Tim is severely touch starved and enjoys holding Danny for that reason. No other. Nope. That’s all, just the touch starvation. It’s really nice to have a prolonged hug and be held by a really cute cold boy.
Danny tries to pass Tim off to whoever comes to pick him up. It’s embarrassing trying to pry Tim off him and Danny can’t seem to make the blushing go away. “I’m so sorry. Wow this is so awkward. No this has never happened to me before and I’ve never talked to Tim before today we’re only in a couple classes together no we aren’t secretly dating why would you think that?! No he didn’t ’fall asleep in my arms’ he literally passed out from fever please get him to the hospital asap he needs an iv for fluids and meds!!”
Danny eventually gets back to class, which is nearly over. Other Classmate joined a different group and the teacher gives Danny a printout of the assignment that he can complete with Tim within the week. Great… now Danny has to see the cute clingy boy again. He can’t let Jazz know about today or she’ll read way too much into this.
The fluorescent lights of Gotham Academy were always a bit too bright, but today they seemed to be actively stabbing him in the eyeballs.
Tim wasn’t sure if it was the lights or if his brain was simply trying to shake itself loose from his skull.
A "minor" scratch from a rusty fire escape while chasing a lead in the Narrows had turned into a full-blown, limb-heavy, mind-fogging infection. Just his luck.
"Okay, so for the architectural analysis, we should probably start with the- Tim? You okay, man?"
The one talking was Marcus, their third for the semester-long urban planning project. Tim blinked slowly, trying to focus on the blueprint in front of him. His skin felt like it was being toasted from the inside out.
"Fine," Tim rasped. "Just... tired."
"You’re shivering," Danny Fenton noted from Tim’s other side. Danny was a quiet transfer student who always sat at the back and wore hoodies no matter the weather. He was looking at Tim with a strange, analytical tilt of his head.
Marcus reached out, pressing a palm firmly against Tim’s forehead. He recoiled instantly. "Holy hell! Dude, you’re burning up. You’re literally radiating heat. You need to go to the nurse like right now."
Tim tried to protest, but his tongue felt like a dry sponge. He just leaned back, his eyelids fluttering.
"Wow, you can feel it even when you're not touching skin," Marcus said, turning to Danny. "Danny, feel this. I think he’s like actually boiling."
Danny held up his hands, retreating slightly. "Nah, I’m the worst person to check. I run cold. Like, abnormally cold. I can never tell what a 'normal' people temp feels like."
"Well, in that case maybe you’ll act like an ice pack and wake him up," Marcus joked.
Before Danny could dodge, Marcus grabbed Danny’s wrist and guided his hand directly onto Tim’s flushed cheek.
The reaction was instantaneous. To Tim, Danny’s skin didn't feel like skin it felt like a slab of marble pulled from a freezer. It was the most wonderful thing he had ever felt.
Tim let out a long, shaky sigh of relief. He leaned into the touch, nuzzling his face into Danny’s palm like a desperate cat. You'd half expect him to go mrrr.
Danny froze, his face turning a shade of red that rivaled Tim’s fever. "Uh. Tim?"
Marcus barked an unexpected laugh. "Whoa, he really likes the AC!" He gave Danny a playful shove, pushing him closer to the slumped over Wayne.
That was all the permission Tim’s delirious brain needed. Taking the oppertunity to move forward, wrapping his arms around Danny’s waist and burying his face into the crook of Danny’s neck. He squeezed, locking his fingers behind Danny’s back in an impossible to escape vicegrip.
"So cold," Tim mumbled into Danny’s hoodie. "Don’t move. Stay."
The classroom went silent for a heartbeat before the snickering started. Danny sat there, arms hovering awkwardly in the air, his face now a vivid, glowing tomato red.
"Mr. Fenton? Mr. Drake?" The teacher, Mr. Harris, marched over, peering over his spectacles. "What exactly is the meaning of all... this?"
"Tim's got a fever, sir!" Marcus explained, grinning. "Danny’s apparently a human popsicle, so now he's helping Tim from melting."
Mr. Harris looked at Tim’s limp, clinging form and sighed. "Fenton, take him to the clinic. Now. Before he faints on the floor." The last thing the school needs is problems with Wayne.
Danny tried to pry Tim’s hands loose. "Alright, Tim, buddy, let’s go. Let go."
Tim only tightened his grip, a low, pathetic whine escaping his throat. He wasn't letting go of the cold.
With a look of pure, soul-crushing defeat, Danny sighed. He shifted his weight, hooked one arm under Tim’s knees and the other behind his back, and hoisted the billionaire’s son into a perfect princess carry.
The class erupted. Someone whistled; Marcus started filming on his phone. Danny ignored them all, marching out of the room with a burning face and a freezing chest, Tim’s head lolling contentedly against his shoulder.
In the nurse’s office, Tim had been looked over and given some medicine. He was currently lying on a cot, but he still hadn't released Danny’s hand. Danny was sitting on a plastic chair, looking like he wanted to be anywhere but there.
"Why are you... so cold?" Tim asked, his voice finally regaining some lucidity as the meds kicked in.
Danny leaned back, staring at the ceiling. "I'm a meta, Tim. Not all of them can fly or shoot laser beams. Some of us just have funky internal thermostats. It’s a genetic lottery, and I pulled the 'chilly' card."
Tim blinked, his thumb subconsciously stroking Danny’s knuckles. "Does it... hurt?"
"Nah," Danny said nonchalantly. "It’s a perk most of the time. I save a fortune on winter jackets, and it's great during heatwaves. People get so caught up in the 'super' part of metahumans, they forget most of us are just... weird. No one’s gonne be calling me any time soon to join the Justice League, you know? It's just a thing."
Tim didn't reply. He just closed his eyes, savoring the chill. It wasn't just the cold, though his fever-wracked brain wouldn't admit it. He was exhausted, feeling touch starved, and lived in a house of stoic vigilantes. This- this was nice.
The door swung open, and Dick Grayson practically tumbled in, looking frantic until he saw Tim.
"Oh, thank god," Dick exhaled. Then he paused, eyeing the way Tim was practically entwined with the black-haired boy in the chair. "Oh hell, and you are?"
Danny scrambled to stand, but Tim held fast, nearly dragging Danny onto the cot with him.
"I’m Danny! From class!" Danny squeaked, his blush returning with a vengeance. "I’m so sorry. This is... it’s not what it looks like!" Danny regretted that line the moment it came out of his mouth, couldn't look more guilty if he tried. Dick's gradually appearing shit eating grin confirmed that as well.
Despite that, Danny stammers on, "I’ve never even talked to him before today! We’re just on a project together! I don’t know why he’s doing this!"
"He's a popsicle," Tim mumbled sleepily. "My popsicle."
"He just has a fever." Danny protested to Dick, who clearly was enjoying watching this whole mess unfold. "He literally passed out from a 104-degree fever! Please, take him! He needs an IV and probably a tetanus shot, and I need to not be here anymore!"
It took five minutes and the Dick’s help to finally pry Tim’s fingers loose. Danny practically bolted for the door the second he was free.
"See you soon, Danny!" Dick called out mischievously.
"I am moving to Canada!" Danny yelled back over his shoulder.
He slipped back into the classroom just as the bell rang. Marcus was already packing up.
"Hey, Jack Frost," Marcus said, handing Danny a packet. "Teacher said cause you two are like top of the class anyway you and Drake can just do the assignment together and he reassigned me to a different group, so here's the stuff you're gonna need."
Danny looked at the packet, then at the empty seat where Tim had been shivering an hour ago. He could still feel the phantom weight of the boy against his neck.
He groaned, burying his face in his hands. He could not tell Jazz about this. She’d start all over again about his need for more friendly social contacts now that they are here in Gotham.
He just needed to finish the project. That was it. No more hugging. And no more princess carries.
.
.
.
For some reason, it never occurred to me that Project Gutenberg would have public domain old cookbooks. This is BRILLIANT. There’s a 1953 cranberry recipe pamphlet and a suffrage cookbook from 1915 and a translation of Apicus’s guide to food in Imperial Rome and a whole bunch of other fascinating old cookbooks, many pre-1800. Treasure trove!
For more old cookbooks, Michigan State University has 76 of their historical cookbooks scanned and searchable at Feeding America: The Historic American Cookbook Project.
For even older recipes, check out Gode Cookery. They list medieval and Renaissance cooking instructions and translate the recipes for you into measurable amounts and all.
I have have have to mention Miss Leslie. I learned so much about cooking from that book, even if a lot of it is outdated.
Also, Forme of Cury is great fun, if you can muddle through the Middle English (Gode Cookery has translations and adaptions of some of the recipes from this).
I’ll always take an opportunity to remind people of Barkham Burroughs’ Encyclopaedia of Astounding Facts and Useful Information, which also contains recipes
Feast Afrique had pulled from a range of digital repositories to create a library of historic books on the food and cultural history of West Africa and the African Diaspora. This includes lots of historic and specialized cookbooks.
Jason: You never know when you'll end up without shelter, food or a clean water source. We have to be ready at a moment's notice.
Dick: I told them we could just use Bruce's money for that stuff or even the Drakes', but the Brat said-
Jason: You can never rely on someone else's money! Adults vanish from your life like that *snap*. You need to have saved up resources!
Danny realizing why this so important to Jason: He's 100% correct. In fact, my mom and I used to go into the woods and practice wilderness survival. Want to learn how to collect rainwater safely and how to skin an alligator for its meat?
Dick: Why does a nanny from Illinois know how to skin a alligator?
Danny: The bigger question here is, why is the boy from a circus, calling out my special skills? You a narc?
Dick: I-
Tim: Dick isn't a narc yet, but he will be! He just applied for the police academy! He'll get his acceptance letter from the Chief of Police in Bludhaven in two days! He liked Dick's personal statement, especially the part about rescuing his schoolmates from the Joker that one time! :D
Dick: How did you know that?
Tim: I bugged your apartment and then I hacked the the BPD's system!
Danny: Stop saying alarming things with such a cute face, Kiddo.
Dick: You what!? That's not possible! I found all your bugs last week!
Tim: I put more in! :DD
Jason: *laughing*
Danny: I wouldn't laugh, kid. I'm pretty sure he bugged your room, too.
Jason: No, I told him he wasn't allowed to bug my room, and he hasn't done it. Right Kiddo?
Tim: Yeah! I haven't!
Danny: .....you put them on his person, didn't you?
Tim: Yeah! I have! :DDD
Jason: WHAT?! WHERE!? *frantically patting himself down* WHEN?! HOW!?
Tim: You talk in your sleep, did you know that Jason? And you take 20 breath per minutes on average when you sleep too :DDDD
Jason: ON AVERAGE!? YOU COLLECTED ENOUGH DATA TO GET AN AVERAGE!?
Danny: Tim, Kiddo, ray of my heart's sunshine, we talked about this. You can't watch people sleep.
Tim: Why? I used to watch Dick sleep all time before you were hired.
having a protein intolerance when high protein diets r the fad is so funny bc its like. in my head im watching these people make potions of instant shit themselves, bc thats what would happen 2 me if you tried to feed me a 'pizza' whose base was like, a whole 500g of ground chicken breast
Interestingly, the more common layout is NOT how the city is verbally described in the wiki. This version is the only one I could find that actually depicts the Narrows as an island the way the wiki does.
So this is the map I'll be referencing for this fic.
A mural depicting ancient Egyptian grappling techniques, found in the tomb of Baquet III, an Egyptian high official who lived around 2000 BC and must have really liked wrastlin'
“First season of LEVERAGE - so he's 21 years old - he shows me his watch designs. I'm expecting, y' know, celebrity strap branding or faces. No, it's engineering schematics of GEARS and shit. Pages of them. Even then, there were none so cool.” - John Rogers
