That Weird Turtle Wizard

They are married.

Peepers! Just finished up a large batch of felt fish customs!

They call me Spectacular Starshade. S-tier hero. Capital S. The kind of title whispered in awe, tattooed on superfans, and used to threaten unruly deities during interdimensional negotiations.

But here's the freaky little truth:

My power? My one and only ability?

I can detect the emotional state of bread. Yes. Bread. Not people. Not animals. Not even cursed food, just regular, boring, gluten-containing bread.

Sourdough? Occasionally anxious. Rye? Insecure. Ciabatta? Wants to fight.

It’s absolutely, catastrophically, universe-wreckingly useless.

But somehow, nobody knows. Not the League. Not the press. Not the villains. Not even me, for the first six months—I thought I had empathy. Turns out I was just standing near a panini press.

My first mission? I tripped over a rat-goblin and knocked over a vat of volatile plasmic ink onto the villain Vortex-Butcher. It erased his memories. The world called it tactical genius.

Second mission? The Doom Prophet was holding the city hostage until someone solved his riddle. I blurted out “banana” because a nearby banana loaf was feeling smug. It was the correct answer. Again: Tactical. Genius.

And now? Now I’m too deep. I’m on lunchboxes. I have a cologne. There’s a statue of me in downtown Guttervale punching a comet (?? I have never punched a comet).

And the villains? They fear me. They whisper that I manipulate time. That I bend probability. That I "consume fate through a straw." I once tripped during a rooftop battle and accidentally kicked the villain Queen Spasm into her own portal. Everyone thought it was a “fifth-dimensional judo move.” I didn’t even know I had legs at the time—I was in a panic spiral about whether focaccia can get depressed. (It can.)

So now, I live in terror. Not of villains. Not of cosmic threats.

But of toast. Because if someone sees me staring deeply into a toaster and murmuring “it’s okay, you’re enough,” they’re going to figure it out.