#But Walt doesn't have any hair :(

[enlightenedrobot]

Other Characters you can legally use for your Mickey Mouse project

Mickey Mouse is in the public domain, as is Minnie Mouse and Peg-leg Pete. There's some caveats to that, and I talk about that more in this other post, but for now, let's talk about other characters who you can also use to fill out the cast.

These characters should all be in the public domain, though some characters still have treademarks. I'll get into how to use them safely as we go. Anyways, let's start.

Other Disney Characters

Disney obvciously doesn't advertise this, but there's actually quite a few Disney originals who've actually been in the public domain for a while.

The Mad Doctor never had it's copyright renewed, and so it's very technically the first Mickey Mouse cartoon to enter the public domain. Keep in mind, the version of Pluto featured in the short isn't in the domain just yet, but the Doctor himself is free to use.

What's funny is that Disney would later use a version of Doctor for Epic Mickey. Obviously don't use that version of the character.

Aside from the Mad Doctor, we also have Oswald and Ortensia

Yeah, as it turns out, Oswald's been in the public domain for quite a while, but he's still trademarked by Disney. Easy recommendation... use the original "fat" design of the character and have him go by Lucky.

But before Oswald, we have the Alice Comedies

Everything about the Alice Comedies is Public Domain for a long time, and the Disney corporation very rarely acknowlege these characters existence. Which is a shame because These shorts were some of the first shorts Walt ever produced, and they have the unique gimmick of featuring a live action girl in an animated world.

Everybody already knows about Oswald, but nobody talks about Oswald and Mickey's older brother from these shorts, Julius the Cat

Like... yeah no, it didn't all start with a mouse. Or a rabbit. It started with a cat.

Foxy and Milton Mouse

Both Foxy (top) and Milton (bottom, pictured with his girlfriend Rita Mouse) were characters created by Warner Brothers and Van Beuren respectively to cash in on Mickey's success, and both characters are also in the public domain.

In fact, all Van Beuren cartoons are apparently in the public domain, and I encourage you to find their cartoons and use them as you please.

Fleischer Characters

Betty Boop is probably in the Public Domain, but there's a few caveats with this. From what I can tell, the name Betty Boop is trademarked, but the character herself isn't. Most of the old Betty Cartoons are free to use, but newer incarnations, including the versions used in 1985's The Romance of Betty Boop and 1989's The Betty Boop Movie Mystery are still very much under copyright.

To avoid any legal trouble, I have two big recommendations. Although everybody remembers Betty as having Black hair, in one of the few early instances of Betty being shown in color, she's actually depicted as Redhead.

This is Betty Boop in 1934's Poor Cinderella, and her hair color is pretty clearly red.

The other option is to just make her black.

Though there's been some debate as to whether Betty Boop was intentionally modeled after Esther Lee Jones or not, there's still no denying the influence of Jazz on the character. Betty Boop is a Jazz singer and is often depicted dancing to Cab Calloway. Hell, the Betty Boop musical features Jasmine Amy Rogers as the titular character.

Betty Boop aside, there's an entire world of defunct Betty Boop characters who are definately public domain, including Bimbo and Koko the Clown.

Next year, Popeye's also gonna enter the Domain. So keep an eye out for him too.

Anyways, these are my picks, but obviously this list isn't meant to be comprehensive. There's a ton of old cartoon characters out there who can be freely reinterpreted into newer works. Feel free to add your own favorite public domain cartoon to the list.

[poppetsisters]

New promotional art of the Fantastic Four just dropped and I have some thoughts.

It looks like the concept art from February was more or less correct all along: Reed really doesn't have any white around the turtleneck. I feel this is a bit of a mistake because he looks almost bare without it. It's kinda the same problem I have with the newest Superman costume not having a wide collar, it just makes the blue feel over dominant. I also notice that along Reed's arms are some tubing that kinda remind me of a slinky, which strangely is what the Fant4stic Reed costume did.

That said, It's a much better suit overall than what we got in previous Fantastic Four movies. I don't even hate the moustache. I understand it's a bit of a controversy that Pedro refuses to shave his stache, but I'll defend it on two grounds:

He really does look weird without it.

It gives him a Howard Hughes/Walt Disney look which I think given the aesthetic of the movie is a pretty inspired take

Sue seems to have the most comic accurate suit, but that's only as far as we see she has a Byrne-style collar. Now this is gonna sound weird, but I think her hair could've been more period accurate. You can tell I have very little bad to say about it because I'm being overly picky about hairstyles, but I felt like she could've had a bob like in the kirby era or something to make it look unambiguously 60s in the way Pedro's moustache does. *shrug*

We already got Johnny's suit from the D23 clip, and I've shared my thoughts on that in a previous post, but Ben's suit leaked a while back which I didn't give my thoughts on, so I will now. I was kinda shocked at how similar his suit was to Johnny's that I immediately assumed everyone would have a uniform... well... uniform. The only difference was the collar curving upward toward the shoulder before going down the arm, as well as a lack of gloves. Otherwise it looked like the same outfit. I feel like The Thing being shirtless is too iconic not to have represented at some point in the movie, maybe he gets battle damaged and it reveals his rock hard abs. I don't mind that he wears a shirt, I just think it's not gonna last very long.

Hopefully we'll get a better look at these suits. Once we do, that's when I start making a new youtube video. I am hesitantly excited about this movie. All I need is ONE good movie!

[marciabrady]

when people say snow white, cinderella, or aurora have no personality, like tell me you think characters should be boiled down to one trope without telling me you think characters should be boiled down to one trope. Sorry snow white isn't the "zany one" or cinderella the "smart one." The original three princesses feel like real people more to me than any of the modern princesses. They all have these subtle nuances to them that breathe life into their characters. Like Cinderella getting angry at the clock when she wakes up showing how she does hate her life and wants to break free, or Aurora indulging her animal friends when they dress up as her dream prince and waiting until she's alone to break down crying. Or Snow White, her entire wish is to have a lover who will say kind things to her. She doesn't care about taking back her title or castle, she just wants to be loved and to be happy. But at the same time she has a bit of vanity to her as she fiddles with her hair and dress when she meets the prince. Their personalities are more subtle, but they are there and I like them all the more for it. Something about these three are more soothing to me, and I wish people could appreciate them more.

I totally agree! It's also important for people to understand that the original three existed to be fully fleshed out characters, and Walt wanted them- Aurora, specifically- to be as close to "flesh and blood" as possible, to the point where he made Mary Costa go method and fully live the role of Aurora 24/7, so that no one would even do a line reading for her and it would all come from how realistically she saw and felt the character. That's totally different than the way they write the Princesses today. First and foremost, there's the Princess franchise- so they have to account for how their heroine is going to fit in there against the others, which flattens them (again, in the way you're saying, that they all have to have a shtick and be boiled down to a single hobby or characteristic). Also, you can literally feel how self-conscious the writers are today about writing a Princess after decades of critiques, so it's almost like they're apologizing for the past characters and trying to take feedback in than displaying an earnest depiction of a human character. They're more so putting forth a character that solely exists to be a role model for little child, that will function as a statement to others about how Disney is reforming their "horrible" ways of the past so that you don't feel bad about giving them your money, and just generally what type of woman they feel is an acceptable one.

[kivaember]

some soft... walt/mich young jupiter aw yeah.

-

Walter woke up slowly, groggily, and feeling mildly overheated.

He could hear rain, drumming against the bedroom window, which puzzled him briefly as it never 'rained' in the slums - not in a way that sounded natural, in any case. But then he registered other things: the weight of an arm over his waist, a warm, broad chest pressed against his back, the softness of the mattress and pillow and thought drowsily: oh right, michigan.

The apartment was in one of the cheap areas of Ganymede, but it was leagues better than the garage Walter lived in down in the slums. When it rained, the lower levels were prone to flooding, and while Carla had managed to build some sort of flood defence to prevent the garage - and therefore their home - from filling up with water, it still meant they were stuck until the floods drained away. You didn't want to go wading in that toxic swill for love nor money...

Michigan didn't have to worry about that, in his small and cheap yet safe apartment, the drumming of rain a comfort rather than a clench of dread and resignation. If Walter were a lesser man he'd probably be filled with bitter resentment, it'd be normal to feel bitter over it, even - but he didn't. It was a waste of energy and would serve no purpose. It'd be more pragmatic to take advantage of Michigan's fortune to better his own, like he was doing now.

With a quiet exhale, Walter stretched languidly, feeling something in his spine click as it arched. With equal laziness, he kicked the blankets off them, bunching them somewhere down by their feet in an attempt to alleviate the stuffy heat. Michigan functioned as a space heater as it is, he didn't need a blanket on top of that humidity from the rain.

However, his movements, as sluggish as they were, jostled Michigan enough that his arm reflexively tightened around Walter's waist. He grunted in discomfort.

"Mngh, what're'ye'doin'...?" Michigan mumbled into his hair.

"Kicking the blanket off. It's hot." Walter knocked his heel against Michigan's shin. "Stop eating my hair. It's gross."

Of course after hearing that, Michigan promptly started 'grazing' on his hair like he was a horse.

So Walter elbowed him in the gut.

"Ow, you little..." Michigan grumbled, but he obediently stopped chewing on his hair and leaned back a little, his grip around Walter's waist loosening. "Why're you always so damn feisty? Feel like I've got a tiger in my bed or something."

"If you want a doormat to sleep with, then hit the nightclubs. Sure you can find some starry-eyed fan to swoon into your arms there," Walter said blandly, settling himself back down. Ugh, he could feel where his hair was a little damp from Michigan slobbering on it. Asshole.

"Maybe I will," Michigan sniffed. "Then you can sleep on the couch while we're having fun, cold and alone."

"That's fine. I like the couch. It doesn't slobber on me, for one."

"You're impossible," Michigan muttered sotto voce.

Walter suppressed a smile, always enjoying getting under Michigan's skin - just like Michigan enjoyed getting under his. A companionable silence lapsed, Walter staring at the window with heavy-lidded eyes, seeing the glimpse of the dark sky past the gap in the curtains, water rushing down. Not quite a skyfall, but heavy rain regardless. He won't be able to return to the garage for a few hours yet.

Carla's going to make comments about him moving in with his boyfriend, he could feel it. Never mind that Michigan wasn't his boyfriend. He was a... well. Some sort of friend, kind of. Maybe. In a way.

Okay, fine, they were definitely friends, with certain benefits even, but Walter was always careful to ensure some sort of distance. Figuratively, that is. With how Michigan was currently holding him, there wasn't much physical distance between them, that was for sure.

...no distance at all, because-

"Michigan," Walter said, and he felt Michigan's hand - which had been drifting suspiciously slow - freeze. "Really."

"What? We're both awake and cosy together..."

Walter could practically hear Michigan doing the stupid eyebrow waggle he did whenever he was trying to proposition him, and rolled his eyes. He reached down and gently smacked Michigan's roaming hand, and felt it move from where it had almost slipped between his thighs.

"Fine, fine." Michigan didn't sound put out. "We'll just cuddle, then."

"We're not cuddling." Walter didn't like that term applied to him. It implied a level of intimacy he wasn't really acknowledging just yet. "We're just resting in bed together."

Michigan said nothing, but his silence spoke volumes.

Walter ignored the unspoken incredulity. He shifted his weight, trying to find a comfortable spot - as much as he could with Michigan spooning him and cooking him alive, that is - and closed his eyes.

He was very aware of the differences between them like this. Walter was of average height, not too short but not that tall either, but Michigan was practically a giant: broad shoulders, broad chest, too tall for his own good and covered in big but well-toned muscles. Walter wasn't exactly scrawny or delicate, but he certainly felt like it in direct comparison to 'Michigan Mountain'.

Walter opened his eyes and, wordlessly, he grabbed Michigan's wrist, forcing his arm to straighten out before holding his own arm alongside it.

"Uh. What're you doing?" Michigan asked, all while obediently holding his arm out.

"Just thinking what your family fed you growing up. You're too damn big," Walter muttered. A direct side-by-side comparison really did make Walter's arm look all delicate and slim. Michigan's forearms were almost thicker than Walter's biceps. Insane.

"Oh, you know, the same shit they feed livestock that's full of steroids and growth hormones," Michigan replied, and he snagged Walter's hand. It was completely engulfed. Even after having HRT from his teenage years Walter had small hands, annoyingly.

"I'm not surprised. They can't be blamed for mistaking you for a cow," Walter said as their entwined hands lowered to rest against his stomach. "I actually feel sorry for your mother, having to squeeze you out."

"Well, she did need a c-section..." Michigan mumbled. "My head was too big to fit out of her... y'know."

Walter snorted. "Yeah, I can believe that."

"Asshole." Michigan turned his hand slightly, pinching Walter's stomach between his forefinger and thumb.

Walter stoically endured the (gentle) pinch, knocking his heel against Michigan's shin. The pinching stopped, and they both settled down again. The rain was coming down heavier now, louder.

"...we should probably get up," Michigan finally said. "We gotta report to HQ in a few hours."

"It only takes thirty minutes to get to HQ from here," Walter pointed out, already feeling himself start to drift off. "We can sleep in a bit more..."

"Idiot, it's pissin' cats and dogs out there. We're gonna be swimming to HQ, and that'll take over an hour, at least."

Ugh, he was right. "Mngh. Then let's skip..."

"S'not worth it, you know that," Michigan grumbled. "That weekend spent painting curbs and deweeding the parade square..."

Ugh, he was right. Even just remembering that boring yet humiliating weekend was enough to chase away any lingering drowsiness. Carla hadn't let him forget it, will never let him forget it for as long as she lived.

"..." Walter grunted. "Carry me to the bathroom, then."

Michigan snorted, just shy of turning into that stupid guffawing laughter of his. "Pfft, who're you? Princess of the Slums?"

"Prince, thank you."

"Fine, fine, Prince."

But Michigan did carry him to the bathroom, in the end. Walter got to selfishly enjoy a handful of seconds of being cradled in those strong arms, an embrace that he refused to acknowledge as an embrace, and think that, maybe, he could let the emotional distance between them shrink a little bit more. Just a little.

Then Michigan dropped him into the bathtub and turned the shower on full blast cold.

"Michigan-!"

Never mind. Their current emotional distance was fine.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

From this post.

(Read this and thought these two fit too well with the Spies in Disguise cast ❤️😅 Hope you enjoy ❤️ :))

“you’re doing that on purpose!”

“…doing what on purpose?”

Walter held up his arm to keep the older agent away. "You know exactly what you were doing!"

Meanwhile, Lance gave the younger a deadpan look. "Do I look like I know what I just did?"

Lovely landed on Lance's shoulder and cooed at Walter.

"The thing!" Walter waved his hands about as he spoke. "That you just did with your hands!"

Agent Sterling raised an eyebrow as he glanced down at his crossed arms. "Cross them?"

"No! Before that!"

"Still don't know what you're talking about kid."

"The thing!"

"Saying it louder doesn't make me understand it any better." Lance took both of Walter's wrists and gently pushed them down. "So why don't we use our words, and try again."

Walter groaned as he pulled his hands away. "Just forget it."

Lance stared in confusion as the younger man stomped away. He glanced over at Lovey on his shoulder before hurrying after his friend. "Hey, Walter."

The younger man didn't stop so Lance had to keep up with him as they walked. "Walt, listen. I promise, I'm not trying to make fun of you man. I just genuinely don't understand what I did."

Walter stopped to stare at the older agent.

Lance stepped in front of him, one hand going to his chest while he held up the other. "Scouts honor."

The younger's eyes still looked skeptical. "How do I--?"

"Because from my point of view, it looked like I just---."

Walter squealed and jumped back when Lance had reached forward to demonstrate his accidental grab a second time.

Agent Sterling immediately pulled his hand back, confusion written all over face.

After a pause, Walter straightened. He cleared his throat. "I'm . . . gonna go."

Lance watched the younger man's retreating form before rushing after him. "Walter! . . . Hey Walter, stop!"

Meanwhile, the dark haired agent desperately tried to loose the older agent in the busy headquarters by dodging around other agents and corners. The chase kept up until they reached a quieter area with only a few people milling about.

"Walter!"

The younger agent glanced behind him to check if he was still being followed, and immediately crashed into someone.

Both Walter and the other person fell back onto the floor, papers scattering everywhere.

"Ow! Watch where you're going Genius!"

When the dark haired agent sat up, he saw Marcy Kappel on the floor in front of him.

"Marcy!" The younger agent jumped to his knees and started snatching up the loose pieces of paper. "I am so so so so sooo sorry. I wasn't . . ."

"It's alright Walter." Marcy sighed as she pushed herself up again. "I have a feeling it was an accident."

"It was. I swear!"

Eyes crouched down beside the red head and held out her hands. "Who's got you playing cat and mouse?"

"Well---."

"Walter!"

The dark haired agent tensed as Lance came darting around the corner.

"Walt-wow!" Agent Sterling raced up to the duo, Lovey still sitting on his shoulder. "You two okay?"

"We're fine," Marcy assured him as Walter handed Eyes his stack of papers. "Just collided."

"Why were you running anyway kid?" Ears asked while he picked up the last few papers. "There some sort of threat we should know about?"

Walter glanced up at Lance before turning back to Eyes.

Marcy's own eyes darted between the two. "What's going on here?"

Using the younger agent's collar, Lance yanked Walter up to a standing position. "Ask this guy."

Marcy's eyebrows furrowed together while she stood. "Walter?"

"Uh . . . Well . . . It's sort of . . . complicated," the dark haired agent explained.

Lovey chose that exact moment to leave Lance's shoulder and land on the younger agent's head, cooing in response.

"Complicated?" The security agent's arms crossed.

Walter shrank into his shoulders. "Y-yes?"

"How complicated?"

"Well---."

Lance stepped in between the two. "Uh, it's not complicated at all."

"Wait Lance---."

"All I did was this and---."

On the this, the older agent squeezed Walter's side.

Again, the younger agent jumped away with a squeal.

Lance motioned to him. "You see?"

"Wow!" Eyes leaned closer. "Interesting reaction."

Walter tried to run again, but Lance yanked him back by his collar.

"Hey, what's going on with you?" Agent Sterling asked. "You injured?"

"What? No."

Marcy smiled fondly at the interaction. "You really have no idea what's going on?"

Lance rolled his eyes. "And I'm sure you do?"

"Oh 100%."

Walter held his arms out in front of him. "Don't even think about it!"

Agent Sterling eyed the two. "Is this an inside thing I don't know anything about?"

Ears snickered. "Not by a long shot."

"It's called being ticklish," Marcy answered while she quickly yanked Walter into a bear hug, making Lance's grip slip.

The sudden movement caused Lovey to fly back over to Lance's shoulder.

"Ah! Marcy!" The dark haired agent started squirming.

A light clicked on in Lance's head. "Wait."

"No!" Walter grabbed Marcy's arms with one hand while the other was held out to keep Lance away. "Don't you dare!"

The older agent crossed his arms. "So you did all of this because you were afraid of a little tickling?"

Nervous giggles were already bubbling up out of the younger's mouth. "Ihim nohot afraid!"

"You sure?" Lance spidered along his friend's sides. "You seem pretty afraid to me."

Walter threw himself to one side in an attempt to escape, but Marcy pulled him right back in. "Noho! Marcyhy! Dohon't hehelp hihim!"

"Why not? This seems like fun," she teased.

Lance spidered higher and Walter's laughter grew higher pitched.

"Who knew the wizkid was ticklish," Ears poined out as he playfully elbowed Eyes.

"I'm noticing an increase in nerves the higher you go Agent Sterling." Eyes let go of her glasses and smirked. "Just to note."

"Oh really?" Lance responded before pinching along the younger's ribs while Walter tried to kick him away.

In response to the practically squealing laughter filling the space, Ears pulled back one side of his headphones. "Sheesh! I can hear the increase."

"Shh!" Eyes elbowed him back. "Look."

While the two were chatting, Marcy managed to wrangle the younger agent's arms above his head. The new position allowed Lance to dig his hands into the dark haired agent's armpits for half a second.

"Wow!" Angent Sterling commented while dodging another kick. "Hey. Watch where you aim those things!"

"You wahatch whehere you aim thohose thihings!" Walter shot back while nodding to the older agent's hands.

"You going to let him speak to you that way Agent Sterling?" Marcy butted in.

Lance dug back into the dark haired agent's armpits. "Not in the slightest."

Walter practically cackled as he tried to kick, wriggle, and squirm his way to freedom.

Finally, Marcy had mercy, releasing the younger agent so he could slide to the floor.

Walter curled himself into a ball near the wall.

"You good down there?" Lance asked.

One hand came up point at Lance and then Marcy. "Yohou are aha terriblehele frihiend."

"Come on, he's not that bad," Marcy responded.

"Pretty sure he was talking about you," Lance shot back.

"Oh really? And who was the big bad agent who practically tickled him to death?"

"You were the one who held him there."

As the two bickered, Eyes turned her attention back to Walter. "Need a hand?"

The younger agent accepted the outstretched hand. "Thahanks."

"No problem." Eyes pulled him around Marcy so he was out of the way. "Though, I think these two might argue each other into the ground if we let him."

Ears shrugged. "Eh, what else is new."

Walter fondly shook his head before he stepped in between them. "Okay, you two need to chill."

"Ah." Lance pulled back out by his shirt collar. "A, B conversation. C your way out of it."

Marcy crossed her arms. "Oh that was mature."

"You wanna talk about mature? Oh right." Agent Sterling motioned to her. "You don't have any maturity."

"Wow, that's rich coming from you."

As the two argued, Lovey came back to perch on Walter's head.

Meanwhile, the younger agent looked back at Eyes and Ears. Both sides shrugged before Walter walked off down the hall with the other two, leaving the bickering duo behind.

[princesssarisa]

Winifred Sanderson for the character ask

Favorite thing about them: Her sheer flamboyance and zest for her wicked deeds, and her perfect blend of comedy and genuine dangerousness. She's a villain I love to hate.

Least favorite thing about them: Well, she is an evil, child-murdering witch, and she abuses her sisters too.

On a meta level, I might have some concerns about a well-known Jewish actress (who's very "Jewish looking" too, with her frizzy red hair and big nose) playing a witch whose particular brand of evil, sucking out children's life force in a magic ritual, has some obvious parallels with the blood libel legend. But of course the parallels between antisemitic stereotypes and witch stereotypes are common throughout all media with witches. Besides, the character isn't Jewish, she's from a Puritan village in colonial Massachusetts, and if Bette Midler had no problem playing the role (in fact she calls it her all-time favorite role), why should anyone else object?

Three things I have in common with them:

*I like to sing and perform.

*I'm sensitive to rude remarks about my looks.

*I like Halloween.

Three things I don't have in common with them:

*I don't have red hair.

*I've never murdered anyone.

*I don't have any sisters.

Favorite line:

Her first line, printed on quite a bit of Halloween merchandise:

"Oh, look. Another glorious morning. Makes me sick!"

Her curse just before being hanged:

"Fools! All of you! My ungodly book speaks to you! On All Hallows' Eve, when the moon is round, a virgin will summon us from under the ground! (laughs) We shall be back! And the lives of all the children shall be mine!"

When she sees a school for the first time, judging by its appearance and its smell of children:

"It is a prison for children!"

About Dani calling her "ugly":

"She really hurt my feelings... She doesn't even know me! You know, I always wanted a child, and now I think I'll have one... on toast!"

When she brings Billy Butcherson back as a zombie:

"Unfaithful lover, long since dead, deep asleep in thy wormy bed! Wiggle thy toes! Open thine eyes! Twist thy fingers toward the skies! Life is sweet, be not shy! On thy feet! So sayeth I!"

In response to being told "Go to hell!":

"Oh! I've been there, thank you. I found it quite lovely."

And as a bonus, from the Hocus Pocus Villains Spelltacular show at Walt Disney World, when she laments that she and her sisters don't have any friends, and Sarah says "We're friends":

"No, we're sisters. I have to like you."

brOTP: Her sisters Mary and Sarah, even if she does treat them shabbily most of the time.

OTP: None, unless there's a man out there who wants to be poisoned and have his mouth sewn shut if he makes one wrong move.

nOTP: Thackery Binx, Max Dennison, or Billy Butcherson.

Random headcanon: During the 300 years she and her sisters spent in hell after their execution, she met several of the classic Disney villains (who of course were killed in their own stories), like Maleficent, the Evil Queen, Ursula, Gaston, Scar, and Frollo. Her interactions with them were very interesting.

Unpopular opinion: I'll say the same thing I did about her sisters. I wish the Boo to You Halloween Parade at Walt Disney World had only dressed Minnie Mouse as Winifred for the 30th anniversary of Hocus Pocus in 2023. Ditto for Clarabelle Cow as Mary and Daisy Duck as Sarah. I wish they hadn't kept it for this year's parade too. Hocus Pocus is really a movie for middle schoolers and older, not for the little kids Minnie and friends appeal to the most. The costume does look cute on Minnie, but still.

Song I associate with them: What else?

Favorite picture of them:

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Alright, I am not sure why there were anons freaking out about…vampie Walter? I didn’t watch twilight series so I only wondered why Walt not have his iconic mustache but other than that, it looked kinda dope. Maybe I have a weird taste on art in general :P

Anon's referring to this controversial picture.

Well thank you!

From everything we've seen, it looks like male vampires don't get to keep their facial hair, or uh, any hair but the eyebrows/hair on the top of the head if they had it. So he doesn't get to keep the mustache or beard he gets later.

I think it's in part because vampirism's supposed to make you super hot. It just makes Walter look... like this.

[ohc-and-the-music-tapes-archive]

Archived blog post by Optical Atlas about "2nd Imaginary Symphony for Cloudmaking" and hand drawn Music Tapes t-shirts

[copy below, in case link would not work]

In 2002 Julian Koster of the Music Tapes notified those on E6 Townhall that he was going to begin selling CD-R copies of his upcoming albumThe 2nd Imaginary Symphony for Cloudmaking. A little while later he came through with a first shipment, and fans received a CD-R with a strand of Julian's hair just hanging out from under a label depicting crayon-colored clouds. Because of a long delay in shipping the orders, he sent a hand-drawn "Friends of the Music Tapes" tee-shirt with each package. Julian also mentioned that he had so much fun sending out these packages that he was considering self-releasing the album instead of sending it out via Merge Records. He told us that what we had was a rough mix, and was already becoming more layered and complex as he worked on it.

My wife and I sat down to listen to the 2nd Imaginary Symphony on September 11, 2002, finally turning off the television after endless retrospectives that featured the same footage of planes crashing into the towers. The album begins with a little bit of singing saw, and a narrator--not Julian, but the sort who might narrate one of those old Walt Disney storybook records for children--tells us the story of a young boy named Nigh who follows a mysterious older friend to a factory that produces the clouds of the sky. Apart from the saw (which succumbs to a lovely crescendo in the finale), there's no singing, and no songs. But it's quintessential Music Tapes.

A little while after that we received a second package, a second CD-R, and two more tee shirts. Apparently Julian lost his first shipment list, found our letter, and send one tee shirt for my wife and myself, thinking we hadn't received the first one. I gave the CD-R to my brother-in-law as a birthday gift; I don't believe he ever listened to it. The tee shirts we haven't worn, and they're a bit wrinkled in these photos because for a couple years they've been tucked into a dresser. Now they're hanging up, and I'll have to iron them and take one out on the town when the weather gets warmer. It's almost four years since Julian sent the CD-Rs out, but last August Julian recently posted at the Townhall to reassure us that more Music Tapes material is coming, including the official release of the 2nd Imaginary Symphony. He wrote: "Hello, hello! Goodmornings, afternoons, and evenings to you all! I just wanted to share with you all that the song album is being mastered in early September, and has in fact left the womb, and though I love it very much It is now time to let it go lead its own life. The final version of the story record has already been mastered, and is worth waiting for (rather than seeking out the early versions i promise). There will not be any word on release dates untill early fall, so I'm afraid there IS still a wait before you, but much shorter than those you've grown use to." In the meantime, I know some have been curious to see what the shirts* looked like, so here are some photos. The most elaborate shirt features the following text (all grammar and spellings are "sic"):

"Late August, corner of W. 80th St. and Amsterdam Avenue in New York City. 2000 and two. And old woman in a rain slicker is loading most of her belongings into a trunk on the street. Her belly is full of Hominy Grits. She learned the recipie from her Grandmother as a little girl. She still remembers drawing pictures with her bare Fingers in the Steam clouded windows accross from the stove. She still remembers fealing warm and Safe. How her grandfather could make a spoon float several feet in the air above her, without even lifting a finger. He seldome Spoke, and never Smiled. This parlor trick was the Sole means of Communication between them. I hope she doesn't mind me writing all of this down. She does Not know me, nor I, her. I am familliar only with the warmth that traveled A million human miles and took the care to visit her image upon me for even the briefest of Moments. She will load her trunk intoo the Caboose of a Great passenger train. She will fall in love with a man her own age. Together they will invent a methode of playing the piano that allows for the Storage and Compartmentalization of time. In this way they will begin the Capturing and preservation of indevidual moments. They will build themselves a Workshop in a functioning German Clock tower. They will begin with the preservation of random moments, and eventualy find themselves drawn mostly to moments of sentimentality. The Old Woman sits and blows on her fingers. It's winter. Her hands are cold. She Plays a moment from her childhood. A windy day, the Sun filters through the clouds. It's 1920. There is a great wind, and the mustache of a distinguished gentleman is blown clear off his face. The moustache, a trimmed handlebar, takes flight, Flapping through the air in a birdlike fashion. It is soon joined by the moustaches of Several other men. The wind blows and blows. The moustaches, now numbering in the thousands, migrate Southward for the winter. The old woman stops playing. The Old man walks over to her and Smiles. They love each other dearly. In time they will run out of moments of their own sentimentality to distill and preserve. And so they will begin to detail yours. At 1st you will apear to them in dreams. Only when you wear this Shirt. They will coment on their common dreams, and begin to compare notes. In their dreams they will always try to read this Shirt. They will never succede. My Writing is too small and illegeible. My spelling to difficult to decode. They will grow fond of you, and look forwards always to the next time you put on the Shirt. They will share with you your moments of sentimentality. Play them over and over again on their Piano. In time you will come to feal them....and Never again will you feal alone."

*On the subject of Elephant 6 shirts: lou2ser wants your E6 tee-shirt photos for his flickr archive. His shirts are less wrinkly than mine.

[rivstyx]

riv styx's rec list

(say that five times fast!)

this is gonna be really, really long, so i'm putting it all under the cut, sorted alphabetically and categorized by rating. if there's something you'd like to add, just reply, rb, or send me an ask!

General

Amo, Amas, Amat by Verecunda

1502 words. Jed just doesn't get this whole Latin thing.

Finishing (Touches) by flowerdeluce

4255 words. After escaping Kahmunrah's hourglass, Jedediah has a problem that's worse than non-functional guns: as it turns out, sand baths exfoliate more than a hand-painted miniature cowboy can afford. Octavius takes it upon himself to make everything better.

Forget-Me-Not by EwokRae22

17437 words. Octavius is the first to come down with it— and discovers all too quickly what it means to cough up flower petals, yet is unwilling to guilt his best friend into loving him just to save him. Jedediah ends up infected too, in his effort to help his best friend— who he secretly loves. OR: A Hanahaki au, but it begs the question. If Hanahaki were a real disease, how would it have effected world history?

Hold My Hand by hoc_voluerunt

2683 words. "I'll take that hand now." Focused on the end of The Secret of the Tomb. Jedediah and Octavius come to a realisation on their final night alive in New York.

Listen to the rhythm of the falling rain by clumsyghost

1548 words. Octavius misses the rain. Jed attempts to cheer him up.

Manifest Destiny by clumsyghost

5780 words. “What do you mean,” Larry repeated numbly, “that Rome is gone?”

Overworked by MaidenofIron157

1317 words. Octavius has been a bit run down lately. Jed has just the solution.

The Sanctuary (Any Weather series) by EwokRae22

15338 words. On a lucky break from McPhee, Larry brings the exhibits on a winter vacation north of New York. He has everything prepared, or at least that’s what he tells himself. Because nothing can stop Jedediah and Octavius’s useless and oh-so-tiny longing for each other, not even the snow.

Teen

Ain't No Prince Charming by Merlin Missy (mtgat)

4270 words. When his very best friend in the world gets stolen from the museum, Jedediah sets out to rescue him.

All This Bad Blood by doorrepairgirl

1898 words. 50 years of rude neighbors, territory disputes, and grudges repaid with new grudges. No way all that’s gonna go away overnight, right?

Cacoethes by Anonymous

4478 words. A deeper look into Jedediah and Octavius's experiences during Battle of the Smithsonian, and a look at what could have happened after the end.

Glimpse of us by rice_enjoyer

5311 words. He finds it thrilling to fight Jedediah like this, to tear into each other until they’re both panting messes, hair disheveled and skin blossoming with purple bruises. Octavius subconsciously loves the small in-betweens where they catch their breath. Having Jedediah laid out before him, shirt rumpled and red handkerchief skewed out of place. He feels an almost possessive pride seeing the marks they leave on each other, claiming one another, even in the name of rivalry. For what is hatred, if not a twisted form of fascination? tldr someone on tumblr said jedtavius makes more sense as bitter exes and i haven't stopped thinking about it since

He Loves Me Not by orphan_account

25820 words. Jed stumbles across a stack of unsent/unfinished love letters from Octavius to an unknown person in the museum. Jed sets out to find out who. Not because he’s jealous. No, not all.

if this was a cowboy movie (i'd give you my boots) by Liviapenn

10180 words. There are secret articles in our treaties with the gods, of more importance than all the rest, which the historian can never know.' -- Henry David Thoreau. This hour I tell things in confidence, I might not tell everybody, but I will tell you. -- Walt Whitman, "Song of Myself"

Kingdoms Of Clay by Historical_kitten

31675 words. The tablet is at the museum to stay and all the miniatures are pleased. In celebration, the museum has made several changes, including installing a new diorama. Unfortunately, the new exhibit contains historical figures that Octavius knows all too well. The Roman general's life is turned upside down when he encounters an old enemy who is not content to leave the past in the past. Jedediah has Octavius' back as always, but when his enemy discovers the cowboy is his weakness, Octavius will have to scramble to save everything he loves. Will Octavius survive the reappearance of an old rival while keeping Jedediah safe? Will he tell said cowboy how he truly feels about him? Or will we see the second fall of Rome? You'll have to read to find out!

On Every Horizon by flowerdeluce

15551 words. After discovering how lucrative ‘publicity stunts’ are for the museum, McPhee organises a series of art exhibitions in the museum’s gallery. The installations are refreshed weekly, leaving Jed and Octavius only brief windows of time to explore each one.

One Minute I Held the Key; Next the Walls Were Closed on Me by woolesbeano

19336 words. Ahkmenrah understands human nature. He knows how this works. It’s a simple tradeoff, one he’s familiar with. Compliance and subservience grant him freedom from his sarcophagus. Mistakes result in punishment. It’s human nature. He’s used to it. Then why does the museum seem different?

Paper Planes by SugarGlassShards

4372 words. Saving the day is easy. Surviving the morning evening after the night before — not so much.

promise a future I can come back to by Riv_Styx

31,127 words. A story about two men, second chances, and destiny - or, a mostly-pre-canon soulmate AU, featuring matching scars and a healthy dose of gay pining.

The Barn Raising by PoetryInMotion

7463 words. The Old West's barn has been demolished by a fetch-related accident. When they get a new one, the Western denizens throw a good old-fashioned barn-raising party. Jedediah decides to invite Octavius (and both secretly hope that they can kindle a romance between the do-si-do and the two-step).

too much green to feel blue by HearJessRoar

3177 words. In which Octavius decided that if he was going to die in Pompeii, like hell was he going to die without kissing Jed first, and well. They didn't die. Now what.

Mature

i don't want to live forever (i'm afraid i'll go to heaven series) by HungryOnMain

3418 words. Jedediah and Octavius don't make it. The exhibits prepare for stasis for what may be the last time. The two miniatures awaken in a strange place, before a strange being. Judgement comes.

While Rome Burned by csi_sanders1129

10265 words. In which a new addition (Emperor Nero) to the Roman diorama causes serious trouble for our two favorite miniatures.

Windowsill by bisexualsolidsnake

5417 words. Larry knew their favourite date night spot well, since he’s the one who always had to retrieve them when they inevitably stayed there too long. For once, though, he knew where they would end up tonight weeks in advance. Shameless proposal fluff.

Explicit

As A Man by orphan_account

2894 words. "I think it's pretty darn simple. You're lookin' real temptin' down there, an' I can't help but think ya would look even prettier if I just-" His thumb slips lower, until it catches on the edge of Octavius' lip. He just looks up through his lashes at Jedediah, who seems to be waiting for the roman to tell him to stop. He should. He should tell Jedediah to remove his hands. That it is unsightly, even atrocious, for a man of his status to be on the ground before him, but all Octavius can think about is how much he wants to rise up onto his knees and take the cowboy into his mouth. If he was a man with even less control than he already is, he could easily drool at the thought. or: Octavius comes to terms with the fact he might like being submissive, sometimes

Evening at the Archive (series) by HungryOnMain

19079 words. A collection of stories that take place in the Night at the Museum universe, most of them explicit.

Not Rated

Everybody Knows (Except Them) by impulserun

2224 words. 4 times Jedediah and Octavius (well, mostly Jedediah) were oblivious, much to the pain of everyone around them, and 1 time they finally wised up.

in sickness and in health (to love and to cherish) by zhingweii

8403 words. in which Jedediah gets darted - and it turns out to be quite the enlightening experience.

Oh My Moon by bitter_lemonade

8912 words. New dioramas appear at the hall of miniatures! Everything is great intill Gio comes along…

Taking The Blame by GayGothicFanboy

384 words. Kahmunrah takes the blame for his mother's crime.

[deputy-buck]

This is a transfer post from my old blog!

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Ahh! Hi! Yes! These are all extremely random, and kinda suck cause I’m bad at articulating what’s in my head- excuse my poor grammar lmao I hope you like them regardless

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- Per Evan's book, he shows his affection physically, he's a very touchy man with those he likes. More specifically he really likes holding hands and cuddling on the couch, petting through their hair and over exposed skin.

- Often calls Nate "Honey", Brad "Babe", Ray "Menace (affectionate)", Walt "Pretty boy", Trombley "Pup", Doc "my old man (you know, like how southern couples call each other)", Stafford and Christeson "Staffy&Chrisy, the kids, the boys". And yet he calls everyone "Sweetheart"

- After he retired out of the Corps, he became a carpenter; decks, bars, kitchens, wardrobes, entertainment centers, wine cellars. He's more into trimwork than anything though. Good trimwork, none of that "oh the painters will caulk the gaps." bullshit. All his joints are tight, all his boards are flush, each miter is cut to the specific corner angle of the room, he doesn't just assume all walls meet at a perfect 90°, because they don't. Ever.

- Drives a ‘77 baby-blue Ford F-300 diesel dent-side. Automatic, flatbed and dual tanks, navy leather bench seat with an ebony stained dash and door panels. Rhino-Lined floor pans were a fucking must for him personally, because even though he does interior units, he hates grungy carpet. (yes this is just my dream vehicle-) 

- He loves working on it with Stafford and Christeson. He doesn’t yell at them for shaking the flashlight but he will bark at them if they put their oily, gritty hands on his paint. He’s too broke to get it refinished, okay, they’re grown enough to know better. 

- Wears cargo shorts but it’s fine, he actually uses the pockets. He always has a paper towel in his pocket too and forgets about it when he puts them in the laundry, so he has to pick off all the little bits of obliterated napkin every time. :)

- Needs glasses, has glasses, hates wearing his glasses. It’s a constant fight between him and Tim, Doc bitches that they were expensive and helps slow down the deterioration of Mike’s vision. Mike bitches that he paid for them and they’re his eyes so he can do whatever he wants with them... He wears the glasses.

- He likes camping a lot, but none of that tent camping shit, he says he’s too damn old to be sleeping on the ground anymore. So he owns a camper! A 2013 Rockwood Roo, it’s light, small, has three soft shell expandable bunks that are all queen-sized beds and a slide-out. He loves it, It’s a pain in the ass sometimes but it fits almost everyone who wants to go so it’s worth it.

- He gets ✨Emotional✨ when any of the guys are a part of a ceremony and have to wear their dress blues or service uniform. Nearly cries when they get promoted, he’s just so damn proud of his boys.

- Refuses to understand how modern kitchen appliances work; Nate’s Keurig is his archnemesis-

18+ under the cut

- A true switch, he likes just about anything that’s put on the table. And even if it’s not his cup of tea, he’s not judgmental at all, he values a lot of communication.

- Really enjoys cock-warming, loves having one of his boys’ mouths on his half-hard cock for hours while he quotes out material and types up invoices for jobs. He’ll rock his hips forward just a tad when he feels them dozing a little too far off, reminding them to keep his cock in their mouth. 

- Praises his partner no matter if he’s topping or bottoming. Seriously, he will say, “Fuck me harder, sweetheart. Good boy.” 

- Him and Captain Patterson have a Thing with Nate and Barrett being Theirs, and so they like to mess with each other by touching the other man’s Boy. All in good fun of course, they know and respect each other’s boundaries. Gunny has more patience than Patterson though, so he can watch as Patterson pets and praises Nate for much longer than Patterson can stand watching Wynn do the same to Rich. It always ends in Patterson reluctantly surrendering Nate back to Gunny and guiding Barrett to a “middle” position, having Rich kneel between Patterson’s legs and tilt his head back until they can maintain eye-contact, which leads to Patterson cupping one hand under Barrett’s jaw to press the back of his head to Patterson’s belt buckle. Gunny and Nate watch, amused and endeared.

- Can and will edge the ever living fuck out of his boys, the one’s who like it.. Brad. Brad really fucking likes it, to the point of whispering pleadingly in Mike’s ear whenever he feels too pent up. Mike’s fine with letting Brad thinking he’s doing any sort of convincing, he likes making it an emotional challenge for Colbert.

- Playfully pulls his rank when Stafford and Christeson “contradict him” in bed, “This is your Gunny you’re talkin’ to, boys.” or “Show your Gunny some fuckin’ respect, boys.” He’d never do it legitimately to make them do something they don’t actually want, but he knows they like the play of it, knows it gets them all flustered.

- Facials, I feel like that’s all I need to say but I want to say more so- Walt kneeling on the concrete garage floor, lips wrapped around Mike’s cock, hands obediently clasped behind his back while Mike thrusts into his mouth as he pleases. Mike is so close when he pulls out of Walt’s mouth, jacking himself off the rest of the way and spilling onto Walt’s face; thick, pearly ropes laid across his flushed cheeks, a risky string of it over the bridge of his nose making the younger man squint slightly. After catching his breath, all Mike can do is grin, “Such a pretty boy, Hasser.” and pat his cheek affectionately. 

- Was the only one to not treat Trombley like a fragile, skittish deer when they started getting intimate. He listened and paid attention to Trombley’s cues of when he was uncomfortable, but he didn’t fret over it. James admitted it was a little scary at first, but it made it easier to be openly affectionate with Mike and the others. Wynn, noticing how quickly Trombley is progressing, started pushing for more, quicker: deep kisses at random times to get Trombley all hot n’ bothered, feeling him up in front of the others at home like it was nothing, semi-graphic flirting in front of the whole platoon because everyone knows and couldn’t give two shits less.

- Capitalizes on Ray being smaller than him by breaking Ray’s brain just from gently wrapping his hand around Ray’s wrist, or placing his hand flat on Ray’s belly while he’s fucking Ray, acting like he can feel his own cock there. 

- Likes it a little too much when Doc wraps a hand around his throat and pulls him up while getting fucked from behind. Especially if they’re in front of a mirror so he can watch his own jaw drop slack and his whole body just utterly melt back against Doc.

[leam1983]

Facial Hair

Walt: "What if I grew out a handlebar or a walrus?"

Me: "I'd call you Horace Slughorn or I'd start wondering where your white suit is."

Walt: "Checkered history aside, I wouldn't mind being compared to the only sexy Hogwarts teacher..."

Sarah and I shared a surprised look. If we're talking traditionally sexy, Walt isn't it, to be fair. What he is, though, is someone who's working his own little wheelhouse as adeptly as you'd imagine, someone who makes his girth and age work. "I'm sexy, aren't I?" asks the big guy, trying to make a point of comparison. We're not in any position to disagree, for obvious reasons.

"It's just that if you'd been in Slughorn's shoes, I don't think the Death Eater clique would've had so much as a prayer, Walt. You're an Old School Slytherin who doesn't take no for an answer; a Merlin analog with a ton of moxie."

That makes Walt chuckle. "And what about the asshats who made me crack, a few weeks back?"

I shrug. "They were... basilisks of a sort and you didn't have protection on. Everyone's human and everyone makes mistakes, including badass wizards with killer facial hair."

He squeezes us closer on the couch. "Thin wizards don't work anyway, these guys only get brief periods of physical activity and spend most of their days researching in their towers or stroking their beards to look mysterious. Add a lack of central heating and you'd kind of expect them to want to pack some pounds on."

Sarah then echoes Deadpool and Vanessa with perfect timing, slipping a few fingers behind Walt's tie knot and forcing him to turn to her.

"Say the magic words, Fat Gandalf."

What follows is magical in its own right, but not exactly G-rated.

[nachoaveragejoe234]

OK, I agree with this post except we need to stop peddling the "I thin a villain is too ugly or too power hungry so I ASSUME THEY'RE JEWISH CODED and accuse the producers of bigotry" tuff. Several people have talked about the nonsense of these claims and how the people who associate these things with Jews in the first place are the problem. Some of these debunkings even came from JEWS. If there are even Jews saying these critics are blowing things up.... they ARE.

I have reblogged ones I think make a good point.

First, two Jews discussing this among each other:

And debunking entire threads:

As you can see, people don't seem to be aware Gothel is BASED ON HER NON JEWISH VA and CHER. The only people who are seeing "Jews" are people who are purposefully looking for features to call Jewish. They do that with any villain with a big or pointy nose. That's why they look at a witch, trolls, bird-themed villains like Rothbart in Swan Lake, and just assume they're secretly some sinister plot to brainwash kids into hating Jews. Yes that may have happened in the past, but a cartoon character with magic is not gonna suddenly make people hate a culture. Also as pointed out, Rapunzel and Flynn would be Jewish by this logic of using small things to code. They're voiced by Jews and definitely have Mandy and Zachary's influence IN THEIR CHARACTERS. Then.... what almost any movie accused of antisemitism whether it's Tangled, Barbie Swan Lake, PBarbie Princess and the Pauper, Barbie Fairytopia, Christmas Carol, Wizard of Oz, etc either has a Hebrew dub or was released in Israel. Disney has lots of Jewish characters in their TV shows made before and after Tangled, the Walt hating Jews and loving Nazis is a common rumor that has been debunked. Barbie was made by a Jew so people can't use the aruments of Barbie and Ken being blonde (aka calling them Nazis) to criticize Barbie movies. Wizard of Oz was directed by multiple people. including Louis Mayer, and his studio MGM made it. The Mayer family was JEWISH. The author, L FRank Baum, based on his surname, was also Jewish. People caused a fuss about Uncle Boris from Rugrats because they saw his nose and of course assumed the worst. Only for it to backfire in their faces when they realized Rugrats was created by two Jewish people and the episode was made by Jews. Jesus Christ.

Also, Gothel doesn't look "more Jewish" than her concept art. She has the SAME FEATURES, only difference is her hair is up to look more glamorous. If your idea of "Jew" equates with "having curly or kinky hair", then Merida from Brave must be Jewish coded too as she has the same wild, curly hair.

I never see people say something's anti Buddhist, anti Christian, or anti Shinto or whatever, just antisemitic or Islamophobic.

Will you tell me why nobody calls Harley Quinn antisemitic despite ACTUALLY being Jewish and a villain? Or why you don't think Gretchen from Mean Girls is antisemitic even though she's a canon Jew, who's a fancy rich brat? By that logic she's a Jewish American Princess and I thought Jews hated that? Really says where these critics heads are. Being upset and causing a hullabaloo about non Jewish characters being "coded" aka "secretly" Jewish and thus offensive, but when it comes to actual Jews they can't headcanon because they KNOW the character is a Jew, they suddenly go quiet unless it's an actual Nazi movie or made by some fringe group.

You want some antisemiism? Never have I Ever is a very antisemitic show. Or look at how a lot of people talk about Israel or anyone who even shows care for Israeli civilians. VAs like Tara Strong attacked for being proudly Jewish by "Free Palestine" people. THAT'S where the antisemitism is. NOT a character having a design or personality you don't like. If they're not actually Jewish characters, they don't represent Jews. You HC them as Jewish so you can have a reason to be offended. No, not you specifically but people who complain about this in general.

Love the post as a whole but you ruined it by buying into the bad faith headcanons made specifically to try and cancel media.

i don't understand why with the modern retellings of fairytales no one has done rapunzel? there's been a growing trend in wanting to have 'darker' fairytales, or to deconstruct or explore the original stories. but a rapunzel adaptation would be able to do this so well!

compared to other fairytale's and princesses, rapunzel isn't in many adaptations. think of how many different versions of cinderella, snow white, beauty and the beast or peter pan there are (obviously varying in quality lmao)

it's honestly endless!

but rapunzel has very few adaptations:

there are two major movies: 'barbie rapunzel' and 'tangled',

rapunzel is a character in the musical 'into the woods', which also became a movie

one major tv series which is the tangled spinoff 'rapunzel's tangled adventure'

even in stories that combine many fairytales, rapunzel is rarely in them - being a minor villain in 'shrek the third', and as a minor character appearing in one episode of 'once upon a time' in season 3, and then a different version of rapunzel appears in season 7 as a villain who is also lady tremaine (idk i didn't write it)

so there's a lot of potential to explore the story more, especially considering no adaptation has ever gone into the original story (into the woods would be the most similar, but the ending is quite different and rapunzel's not a major character in the musical) and that most versions of rapunzel so far have been for younger audiences.

even just the basic premise of the original story would fit a darker fairytale - a girl is raised in isolation, kept in a tower with no doors or ways to leave and her only company is the abusive woman who raises her, telling the girl she is being kept safe from the outside world. not to mention the other elements of the original story that would be interesting to see portrayed onscreen or be interpreted in different ways - a baby being bartered, rapunzel banished by the woman who raised her for being pregnant, the prince is pushed from the tower and is blinded by thorns, in some versions the witch ends up trapped in the tower herself, etc.

there's a lot of elements there that would make for a fascinating, darker version then what we've seen.

in some of the earlier concept art for tangled, rapunzel is portrayed as much more wild:

which makes a lot of sense!

barbie rapunzel, tangled and into the woods went for a route of rapunzel being sweet, sheltered and naive, which was fuelled by the witch's manipulations. depending on the version, the witch treats rapunzel as a daughter, an indentured servant, or a mix of the two.

but there could be a version of the story where rapunzel is left more to her own devices. or models herself more after the witch - the only person she's ever known. or where her learnt fear of the outside world leads her to want to protect herself against these dangers.

it would be also interesting (as well as pretty heartbreaking) to look into how rapunzel would feel after knowing that her entire life was a lie. that the woman she obeyed and cared about was using her and lied to her. how rapunzel would interact with a world she's never known, but always been taught to fear. and if the story has rapunzel and the prince separated for a time (some versions for years), what would rapunzel's life be like - pregnant and alone and in the world for the first time?

and then there's the prince!

he hears rapunzel singing in the woods and is captivated, but can't get up into her tower, but comes back to listen to her every day. and after he secretly watches how the witch gets into the tower, he calls for rapunzel to let down her hair and climbs up himself. and then they... fall in love and secretly get married.

that part is always glossed over.

it could be a really beautiful love story - a lonely soul who spends most of his time wandering alone in the woods basically hears a siren song and is determined to meet the singer. rapunzel, who's only ever known abuse, meets a genuinely kind person who wants to show her the world. he comes back every day with a strand of silk for rapunzel to make a ladder so that she can be free. after they're separated the now blind prince wanders in search of her, eventually hearing her singing again and that's how they're reunited.

it could also be quite terrifying - a man becomes obsessed with a girl he barely knows, tricks her into letting him into her home, she has no relationship experience (or experience with people at all) and is just as isolated with him as she is with the witch. they get married in secret and she gets pregnant and is punished by the witch for it.

it could even be some version of the two - the prince being captivated by her song, but also drawn to the one thing he can't have (the girl in the tower). but rapunzel being wild when he meets her and him having to slowly earn her trust and respect, and genuinely wanting her to be free of her tower prison.

any adaptation would have to be careful with the character of the witch though - often called gothel, to not fall into antisemetic tropes.

the article 'antisemetism in children's media' explains the harmful ways villains are often jewish-coded:

"[Mother Gothel] was originally drawn as an elegant caucasian looking woman, only to be edited to look like a stereotypical Ashkenazi Jew, presumably as a means to appear more “evil”. Gothel is animated with a hooked nose, and coarse, black curly hair – all aspects commonly seen in antisemetic caricatures. Though these features on a villain alone are shocking enough, what is most terrifying about Gothel’s portrayal is the obvious use of Blood Libel tropes. This can be described as a false belief that Jews kidnap and murder young Christian children in order to perform religious rituals (often associated with Manischewitz wine and matzah). Sound familiar? That’s because it is thinly veiled in Gothel’s portrayal. In Tangled, the main character Rapunzel is portrayed as a young innocent white girl, who is kidnapped by the Jewish villain, who uses Rapunzel’s magical essence to make herself appear younger. What is the laziest attempt at villainizing Jews in this character, and possibly the most hurtful however, is that Gothel is a common jewish surname."

it's awful, and unfortunately something that's been present in many iterations of gothel over the years (as well as other fairytales and witch caricatures)

a solution to this is to not having the witch be jewish coded. her name doesn't have to be gothel, she does not have to have stereotypical or exaggerated features, and rapunzel doesn't even have to be white

but having a focus be on the witch and her relationship to rapunzel is key - because unlike many other fairytale villains, the witch raises rapunzel. in many versions she's the only human contact rapunzel has ever had, or in the versions where rapunzel is locked in the tower as a pre-teen, the witch is the only person she's seen in many years.

the witch's motivations for locking rapunzel away are also important for their relationship and the story:

the original fairytale and into the woods has the witch want to punish her neighbour for stealing from her garden, and wanting a child of her own

barbie rapunzel has a twist on this, gothel was in love with king wilhelm, and when he did not return her love, she kidnapped his daughter rapunzel and framed the neighbouring kingdom, causing the two to go to war.

tangled has gothel using a magic flower for eternal youth, but after the kingdom uses the flower to save the queen & unborn princess, gothel kidnaps the baby in order to stay alive and keep the magic now in rapunzel for herself

Another portrayal of her motivations:

"Many scholars have interpreted "Maiden in the Tower" stories, which Rapunzel is a part of, as a metaphor for the protection of young women from pre-marital relationships by overzealous guardians.[23] Scholars have drawn comparisons of the confinement of Rapunzel in her tower to that of a convent, where women's lives were highly controlled and they lived in exclusion from outsiders.[3]"

this would be a really interesting approach for the character that hasn't been done before. someone who truly believes that she is protecting the child, but is really the one doing all the damage. having the character be inspired by nuns/convents would also work well, as a lot of the techniques gothel uses line up with abusive nuns - isolation, guilt, emotional/physical abuse, and the treatment of rapunzel after the witch finds out she's pregnant. it also flips the head on the often antisemetic coding of the witch

depending on the version made there are a lot of possibilities for endings:

rapunzel having to brave the world alone and pregnant

rapunzel and the prince being reunited - but have days, weeks, months or years gone by? do they ever meet again?

meeting the prince again going differently if it's the terrifying version where he was using rapunzel just like the witch, only in a different way. maybe he wants nothing to do with her or the babies, maybe he pretends they never met at all. how would rapunzel's story change then?

is rapunzel ever reunited with her birth parents? does she want to be?

the ending could be darker, bittersweet, or end on an optimistic note

all this to say that rapunzel is a story with so much potential, and i would love to see it brought to life in more ways - with different genres or interpretations and taking more from the original story.

with the amount of random, unnecessary remakes that are being made - wouldn't a familiar fairytale told in a new way be more interesting?

[mystery-skulls-ghost]

not again.

Harlan Westerly

Twisted from: Herbert West Dorm: Terrovania (@terrovaniadorm) Year: 1st Birthday: October 19th Gender: Male Pronouns: He/Him Relationship Status: …Hahaha, no. Age: 16 Height: 159cm Dominant Hand: Right Origin: Queendom of Roses Club: Uninterested. Likes: The dead, biology, morbid jokes only he would get Dislikes: Plagiarists, blatant lies (not when he does it [hypocrite]), extroverts, loud noises Favorite Food: Abomination Energy Drink (Glowstick Green) Disliked Food: Yogurt Special Skill: Absolute dedication to any kind of work

Harlan Westerly is an interesting boy. He doesn't like to emote much. He has his own way of expressing his emotions. Almost nothing can faze him. He's not the type of person to willingly go out and skate or whatever the kids are doing these days. Instead, he's got work. Homework. All kinds of work. The guy hasn't had sleep in months. He's extremely fascinated with the idea of "restarting" things. There must be some reason as to why he's obsessed…

In short, he's like a fusion between Vil and Idia, except Idia is the major factor in this fusion, and the word "gamer" has been surgically removed, and in its place the phrase "MORE SCIENCE" was placed in the empty, gaping hole.

Unique Magic:

"Re-Animation" Quickly "restarts" a physically broken object back to its original unbroken state. But there's a few caveats…

Harlan has to witness the object being broken in the first place.

He needs to know how exactly it's comprised of.

The pieces still have to be nearby the object in question. Otherwise, it's just going to wing it, whether the pieces go there perfectly or not. It works on pieces of technology and other simple solid objects, even if it leaves small neon green seams on the broken edges. (They do fade out eventually, though.)

He can also use it on himself in regards to wounds, injuries, and other major accidents that really should leave him dead, but it requires a lot of energy. The green scars also remain.

Organic objects that aren't himself, such as dismembered limbs and the dead, however… They always end up in an odd state. Once used on a dismembered limb, it comes to life by itself. All traces of blood have been replaced with the same shade of glowing neon green.

It'll also try to relentlessly kill Harlan, and Harlan alone.

If interrupted in its pursuit of its "re-starter", it'll try to attack the aggravator until they're done for, and continue on its original goal. The only way to stop it for good is through burning it with fire. The effects are much, MUCH worse if done on a dead body of a mage. Walt knows what happens if he tried it on unrelated parts very close to each other…

…And he's willing to find ways to make it work properly without endangering himself.

With all that, he keeps its true power a secret. Everyone just knows the more mundane aspects of it.

Relationships:

Dusty - The pair-up you'd least expect. They actually are fine with each other! Although Harlan is a bit too clingy sometimes…

Samuel - …An interesting boy. Harlan tolerates him.

Agnar - Cold. Very, very cold. Do not put these two together.

Tiny Tidbits:

Harlan is actually a cousin of Vil from his mother's side. He doesn't show up to family reunions that much.

His hair color may be a very dark brown, but it's actually dyed. His actual hair color is blonde.

He's surprisingly very clingy to those he takes an interest in, but he'll quickly drop them depending on how dire the situation is. Once it blows over, he'll resume the relationship like nothing happened, for better or worse. He'll always come up with a reason as to why.

Only seems to find joy in the things he's already into. It's difficult for him to get into hobbies suggested by other people. Give him some time. He's even willing to ramble about his interests to anyone.

Harlan's parents were scientists. He aspires to be like them someday, having inherited all of their research ever since that tragic accident that took their lives. Or so everyone thinks…

[undeadchestnut]

The true weight of what Strickler was asking him - what Strickler was going to ask his mom if Jim gave his consent - was just beginning to settle on him.

My little take on a Stricklake proposal. Maybe not as romantic as some, but important decisions call for a dash of pragmatism.

I wrote the dialogue for this a month ago as a comic script... but dropped it when I realized it would take far too long to draw. Maybe now that I'm (apparently) learning how to write, I can actually share these sorts of ideas without having to turn everything into a dang comic? :O

Read it on Ao3, or right here:

(Reminder that I pretend RotT doesn't exist. The movie was written like a joke and should be treated as such.

You can make up your own scenario for this one, but it takes place at some point in time after Wizards. The world is at peace and the Order has been dealt with in one way or another - preferably with peaceful solution.)

To Family

Jim could barely remember the last time his childhood home had seen a quiet afternoon. It certainly wasn’t quiet now.

Settled on the couch, he spared a glance at little Zelda from time to time, her small, excited figure bouncing up and down on a playmat in the middle of the living room floor. She seemed content with her current pastime - banging building blocks together, the noise filling the air along with her giggles. Despite the racket, Jim didn’t see any reason to interfere with her playing. There was the relatively harmless danger of her tiny fingers getting caught between the blocks, but… Well, some lessons are better taught by small mistakes than warning words - or so he thought.

“Riiiight, I wonder where I picked that one up.” He mumbled, more to himself than to the second toddler on his lap. “Not sure how I feel about that, I tell you.” That’s what he said, but he knew. Knew it by the fond smile on his lips as he pondered the thought. Knew it in the way he gently ruffled the soft black hair of the boy in front of him.

Young Walt was quite uninterested in his words. His eerily familiar green eyes were instead fixed on his adoptive sister, who had just discovered that the blocks could, in fact, be stacked on top of each other.

“Okay. Maybe we can try that book now, huh? Before your sister gets going again.” Jim held Walt close and reached out for the story book on the coffee table, but halted and looked up when he heard the sound of clawed feet on wood approaching.

Strickler entered, little Otto in his arms, carefully navigating the toy littered living room. An exercise that wasn’t made easier by Otto, who cheerfully bumped Strickler’s nose with the palm of his hand. Prominent as it was on Strickler’s face, it was always a favorite with the children.

“Alright you rascal, go play.” Strickler said with gentle gruffness, sitting the boy’s freshly diapered behind down on the mat. The arrival of his brother prompted young Walt to start wriggling on Jim’s lap. Jim placed him on the ground and watched him waddle over to his siblings. The boy plopped down next to Zelda and promptly swatted at her growing tower of blocks. Ever the troublemaker. The blocks clattered on the floor, Otto gaped open mouthed, and Jim and Strickler both watched with halted breath, waiting for Zelda’s reaction. Thankfully, the girl only let out a joyful shriek and began her second attempt with even more zeal. Strickler nodded approvingly.

Settling back on the couch, Jim took out his phone, but looked up soon after when he realized Strickler was still just… standing there. Staring at the children and fidgeting with the hem of his left sleeve.

Okay. Something was up.

As if he could feel Jim’s questioning stare - and Jim didn’t think it unlikely - Strickler turned to look at him, a confident smile spreading across his face. Jim didn’t buy it, not for one second.

“Jim!” Strickler said jovially and gestured towards the nearest spot on the couch. “Mind if I sit?”

Okay, something was definitely up.

“Uh, yeah? Why ask? It’s your house too, dude!” Jim gave him a showman-like smile to rival his own. “Don’t make it awkward again.”

“Yes, well, hmmm…” Strickler sat down hesitantly, his back a little too straight, and his hands a little too neatly folded in his lap. “You see, there’s something I would like to talk about…”

Jim shoved his phone back in his pocket and leaned forward curiously. He watched Strickler reach inside his jacket and pull out a small.... box, of sorts? It was oval, just big enough to fit in the palm of one hand, and - as far as Jim could tell - made of brown leather. It looked in good shape, yet something about it felt old to Jim. Although, that might just be because everything about Strickler felt old sometimes. Most times.

“I know, I wasn’t always deserving of a place in your family, and…” Strickler cleared his throat, his voice carried little of his usual self-confidence. “...and perhaps I never will be.” He held the box out to Jim. On closer inspection, Jim could tell it really was old. And then he suddenly realized what kind of a box it was.

“Jim Lake. Would you allow me to ask for your mother’s hand in marriage?”

By now Jim’s eyes had left the box to stare directly at Strickler’s face, at a loss for words. The moment might have dragged on awkwardly, if it hadn’t been interrupted by another clatter of falling toy blocks, followed by another gleeful shriek and giggle.

“No wait, hang on!”Jim gesticulated wildly, one hand thrusting out towards the box, palm first as if to shove it away. “You’re asking me?! Uuuh, I’m pretty sure that’s something you should talk about with mom?” He pulled up his shoulders and laughed nervously. “I mean! I knew you were old-fashioned, but this…”

Strickler shook his head, his smile more genuine now, soft and perhaps a bit relieved that Jim’s immediate reaction hadn’t been outright dismissal. “It’s not like that. I would like to know if you’d feel comfortable with it, that is all.” He lifted the box a little, encouraging Jim to take it.

Jim obliged and opened it carefully to examine its contents. A silver ring with a slim filigree band and a faceted stone of deep green, that Jim - who didn’t know a whole lot about mineralogy - would have called an emerald. Strickler could have more correctly identified it as chrome tourmaline, had Jim cared to ask. Much like the box, the ring felt old, although it certainly looked shiny and brand new.

“We do have quite the history, you and I,” Strickler said now, with a light chuckle. “So. I would like your approval before I bring it up with her.” ‘Quite the history’ was putting it lightly, Jim thought, staring at the ring in his hands. They’d been living under the same roof for a long while now, and it certainly hadn’t been easy at first. Not easy for Jim, that is. But then, nothing had been easy for him in the aftermath of everything that had happened. Strickler had been remarkably patient, and had weathered Jim’s lingering anger and frustration with humility and understanding. With time, countless cups of tea, and many, many late night talks, Jim’s remarks against his former teacher and enemy had become less cutting scorn, and more light-hearted teasing.

And once again, Jim just couldn’t help himself.

“Looks expensive!”

Jim snapped the box shut with a sharp crack that made even the composed Strickler flinch. Then he fixed on the changeling's wide eyes with a deadpan stare.

“Well, I sure hope you kept the receipt.”

“Oh. I see.” Strickler mustered a sad smile, but his slumping posture told Jim that perhaps his joke had been out of line this time. “It’s an old heirloom that’s been in my possession for centuries. I suppose I could find an antiquar to sell it-”

“Whoa! Hey!” Jim waved his free hand in a placating gesture. “I was joking! Sarcasm? That’s usually your thing?” He held out the box with an encouraging grin. “Here. You’re fine.”

Strickler shot him an incredulous look as he reached towards the box, and Jim had to admit that he felt extremely pleased, seeing Strickler unnerved like that. An uncommon situation that just screamed to be exploited.

Just as Strickler's clawed fingers took hold of the box, Jim’s other hand shot out to rest on Strickler's stony wrist. Strickler’s eyes snapped up and found Jim’s clear blue stare fixed on him again.

“I know she loves you,” Jim said levelly. “And I can see how happy she is. And you, well...” Jim hesitated. The true weight of what Strickler was asking him - what Strickler was going to ask his mom if Jim gave his consent - was just beginning to settle on him. Jim thought he was giving his approval for his mom’s sake - if being with Strickler made her happy, Jim could be happy with it too, right? But it wasn’t just for her sake. He realized that, when he felt the slight tremble of Strickler’s hand under his touch, realized it as he looked into hopeful amber eyes. Eyes that dared hope not only for acceptance… but for love as well.

“You…” Jim’s voice was shaky now, nothing of its previous flippancy left. His throat felt hot, the words just wouldn’t come past it. And he could feel the weight fall off his shoulders when he became aware of how little that bothered him now. To show this kind of weakness in front of Strickler. No, it wasn’t just for her sake.

“I guess you’ve earned your place in our family.” Jim let go of the box and of Strickler’s wrist, raised a hand to wipe at his eyes with a defiant sniff. Then it shot out to wag one pointed index finger directly in front of Strickler’s face. “Just don’t screw this up!” His grin was wide, his eyes gentle (and wet, but he tried not to think about it.) “You know what my sword on your throat feels like.”

Strickler leaned back, the ring box pressed close to his heart. “I’ll behave, promise.” Jim could’ve sworn his voice sounded even more hoarse than usual. A fond smile spread across Strickler’s face and then a relieved chuckle rumbled from deep within chest. “Thank you, young Atlas.”

Jim relaxed as well, wiping the last of the dampness in his eyes away. He caught Strickler doing the same, though he did it with his whole body turned away to watch the children, pretending to scratch his nose, the sly bastard.

“So,” Jim said loudly, determined not to let this moment linger on into awkwardness. “When are you going to ask her? Nooo, wait-” He held up one hand, eyes rolling dramatically. “Don’t tell me. You’re probably gonna make it all grand and corny and embarrassing.”

“Believe it or not, but...no.” Strickler was facing Jim again, absentmindedly turning the ring box over and over in his hands, his voice quiet and tender. “There’s… a lot to consider. I’d rather not put her on the spot with a flashy display.” He shrugged nonchalantly, but once again Jim couldn’t quite buy into the lighthearted gesture. “So, we’ll just have a talk about it. Tomorrow, maybe…”

“Waaaaaait…” Jim narrowed his eyes at Strickler. Glanced down at Strickler’s hands, still fidgeting with the box, then nailed him with a sharp stare and a disarming grin. “You’re having cold feet!”

The box stopped its spinning, abruptly. Long fingers curled tightly around it, as if seeking reassurance. “I most certainly don’t-”

“Yeah, you do!” Jim laughed openly now, incredibly pleased at seeing Strickler wide eyed and flustered yet again. From the floor, three tiny voices joined in with giggles of their own, unaware of the source of Jim’s laughter, yet infected by it all the same. “You’re afraid she’ll say no!”

“I just... Look, I’m merely trying to be considerate-”

“Sure, sure.” Jim bit his lip to try and regain some seriousness. Which proved difficult with Strickler right in his view, chest puffed out in indignation like some insulted rooster, bruised ego and all. Maybe a change of topic was in order.

“No look, it’s gotta be special somehow!” Jim rubbed his chin, gears turning in his head and excitement taking over as he thought about what he could do for his mom. For both of them. “Jeez, Toby is usually the man for this sort of stuff, but… If you want to keep it small, how about dinner for two?” Jim was really getting into it now and he took out his phone to type a few messages right on the spot. Strickler looked on, bewildered at the turns this conversation was taking. The Lakes never quite realized how disarming their generosity could be, and Jim was oblivious to it in this very moment. “I’ll get my friends together to take care of the kids. You better pick up one of those fancy wines with a name I can’t pronounce.” Jim looked up from his phone, excitement plain on his face. “And I’ll cook for you. Plenty of time for you two to talk!”

“Now just wait-” Strickler tilted his head, embarrassed and very aware of the fact that he should be the one to do this sort of planning.”Jim, you don’t have to-”

“I want to!” Jim didn’t leave any room for hesitation or embarrassment. “I really want to.” Another disarming smile. “Mom deserves the best, right?” And so do you.

Strickler nodded. Slowly, hesitantly at first, then with conviction. Jim’s excitement proved just as infectious as his laughter. “Right…Right! The very best...” Strickler clutched the ring box in his hands tightly, close to heart again. “Jim, say…Would you - I might be getting ahead of myself here, ha.” A single nervous titter escaped him. “But if she agrees, would you...be my best man? It would be the greatest honor.” That last part - stilted as it was - was added so Strickler could regain a bit of his composure. In his hands the little box started spinning again.

Jim played along with his grandeur for but a second. “The honor would be all mine… Is what you would say, but I’m not lame like you! Sure, I’ll be your best man!” He finger gunned in a gesture that would have been embarrassing on him just a few years back, but that now came across with all the endearing confidence of one who had learned to embrace his inherent awkwardness. “It’ll be crispy.” He said with a wink that was the final proverbial nail in Strickler’s attempt to lend this moment any kind of gravitas.

Strickler couldn’t help but laugh.

“I see.” He snorted. “Thank you, Jim.” And then, another ill-fated attempt at seriousness: “Words cannot express how-”

“Nope, lame!” Jim jumped up. If the situation was about to turn awkward, he wanted no part in it. And besides, his head was filled with planning, he couldn’ possibly sit still right now. “I need to get some groceries for your dinner tomorrow. I’ll take your car, yeah?” He squeezed by Strickler and made for the front door, ruffling little Walt’s hair in passing. Grabbing his bag from the banister and hastily slipping into a pair of shoes, he was struck by another thought. “Oh, and I need to start thinking about my best man's speech!” He said, car keys jangling as he opened the door. “Which will not be lame!”

“But you don’t even know if-” Strickler yelled after him, but the door had already clicked shut.

Strickler looked down at the ring box in his hands, his voice very small now:

“You don’t even know if she’ll say yes.”

________________________________________________________

“So...Walter Lake?”

They had long finished their meal and each said their words. Many of them. The open ring box sat between them on the dinner table, the ring still inside - a question asked and an answer half given.

Barbara looked up from the box, his would-be name on her lips. Her sapphire eyes left the moss green of the gemstone to look into eyes that were of that exact same color when she fell in love with them - but that now shone in that brilliant yellow and red she had grown to love even more.

“If you’ll have me,” he said, chin resting on folded hands, those eyes fixed on her, still waiting for a decisive answer.

She never understood how he could make that fanged smile of his look so gentle. Nor how his rough voice could sound so timid.

“And you seriously asked Jim for his blessings?” she asked, head tilted, with a smile of her own. Oh, how she wished to know how that conversation went.

He spread his hands in a gesture that encompassed the entire table. “Hence, the fancy dinner.”

“Walter...Lake… Walter Lake.” Looking at the ring again, she repeated the words. Felt them on her lips. They felt...right. “Walter Lake. I do like the sound of that.” She looked up at him and found his eyes narrowed with mirth.

“So, would you say…” he said slowly, drawing out the moment, relishing in the way her expression slacked when she realized what was about to happen. He picked up the box, gave it a little shake. “...it has a nice ring to it?”

“Ugh…” she groaned, fingers rubbing at her temple. “I walked right into that one. Hand over that ring already, so I can divorce you.”

He did as she asked, a pleased grin on his lips that he just couldn’t hide. His long fingers picked up the ring and his other hand took hold of hers gently. She watched, eyes widening as he carefully slid the ring on her own finger.

“Walt... Your hands are shaking,” she whispered fondly. She searched his face, her eyes sparkling. How on earth had he managed to hide his nerves from her until now?

“Hush.” He brought her ringed hand to his lips, kissed it tenderly, eyes shut. Let his lips linger there. He didn’t trust himself to speak, she noticed, now that she was more aware of his feelings.

She slid her hand away from his lips and around his face, cupping it gently. Pulled him closer, her own head leaning forward at the same time. His eyes fluttered open briefly, then their foreheads touched, and came to rest against one another, soft skin pressed against cool stone. They sat there in silence, eyes closed to the rest of the world.

She pulled away after a while, reluctantly, but she needed to see those eyes again. They opened to look at her, a soft glow in the dimly lit room. “Will you marry me?” she asked, another tender sparkle in her own eyes that was threatening to spill over now.

His smile became lopsided. “Isn’t that my line?” One hand reached for her face, curled to hide sharp claws. Smooth stone wiped away a single glittering drop that had found itself on her cheek after all.

She grabbed his hand, held it tightly, her nose wrinkled in amusement. “Should have learned the script! Well?”

He leaned back a little, raised his head theatrically. “I will. Barbara Lake, if you’d make an honest man out of me-”

“No!” She laughed brightly, let go of his hand and pressed her index finger against his lips. “No, please! No corny speeches until I’ve had that wine you denied me earlier!”

“Alright.” He kissed her finger, then gently pulled her hand away from his face. His hands reached for the wine and corkscrew. A toothy grin flashed in her direction. “Just wanted to make sure you kept a clear head.” He uncorked the bottle with practiced movements and she watched through half-lidded eyes, head tilted and cheek resting on folded hands. One of her slender fingers rubbed the cool surface of the gemstone on her hand. Dark wine ran smoothly into both their glasses.

She sat up straighter once the cups were filled.

“To family,” he said. They raised their glasses, eyes locked, a smile on both their faces.

“All kinds are welcome,” she replied to the soft chime of their glasses touching.

[sillygum]

They didn't forget him, it's just a mean joke. Stupid Shanks is always doing something to mess with him. The crew's drinking had carried on well into the night and Luffy was determined to prove he could hang with big boys. This wasn't Makino’s place after all and he wouldn't be tucked in at a reasonable hour once the singing and juice lost its appeal.

Luffy wakes with a groggy jolt, still in the same out of the way booth he'd crawled into some time past midnight. Beckman and Roux had surprised him with a new coat when making him guess which sea they planned to sail next. It was nearly three sizes too big but the plush fur inlay was toasty and he could easily turtle inside when it got too cold or needed a nap. Now as he's pushing his arms through the sleeves and blinking the sleep out of his eyes does he realize the merriment has died down, mid morning sun out of place where it lights up the few windows. It takes a few more seconds for the boy to realize he doesn't recognize any face present and a handful after that to shimmy out of the warn leather seat to wander over to the bar. The pretty woman from last night has been replaced by a scowling man that's quick to shew him away before he can ask where his crew was.

“Gon get, ain't no place fur a kid.”

Luffy frowns and glances around again, hoping Shanks would jump out to laugh at his mean joke. “But I was here last night with—”

“Aht, don't care. There's ‘ta door. Now get!” Anger sits at the edge of his voice, a knobby finger pointing at the exit.

Frustrated groan rumbles from his throat, the usual flare of indignation dampened by the idea that they actually forgot him. Doesn't stop Luffy from kicking a hole in the bar before he trots out the door and again hopes the crew will jump out to laugh. Instead townsfolk go about their day not paying him any mind. Any second now. He sniffs, eyes now wet with tears, this is what that stupid Shanks wanted! Is he happy? Luffy's crying, panic very much setting in. They didn't really forget me…

——

“But?!” Wet confusion drips from his words. The stranger is the only one close to his age, he couldn't be more than a few years older … right? Blurry vision looks up at Law from his soaked shirt, snot and tears mixing into a thick paste. “Wey fergot m-me.” Saying it out loud has him choking, no amount of sniffing or bravado could keep the tears in check now. “Wey weally d-did!”

The shove nearly sends the boy to the ground, the little restraint keeping him from wailing, broken. Why is everyone in the North Blue so mean?! He hadn't done anything wrong, first Shanks, then the bartender, now this kid! Alone in a new town, abandoned again. What else could he do but sob? Garp has no idea where he's at and there was no telling how far the Red Hair pirates had gone or if they realized the boy was missing yet. Maybe this was payback for Shank’s arm? “Rey said it—it wuzn't my walt but—but !” The arm of his coat is sopping wet, his blubbering and wailing having no end in sight.

@sillygum liked [+] for a early pirate career starter.

   This is new and not wanted at all. There is a kid standing before him. A kid with a scare on his face, wearing sandals, and tears rolling down his eyes. Law feels an eyelid twitch, his grip on his nodachi tightening. He’d come into this town with the intention of getting some supplies for his ship and moving on. It’s a while since he’s found a pirate friendly port that didn’t have a Donquxiote pirates jolly roger hidden somewhere in the shadows. He was hoping to relax a little, as much as this angry, revenge driven teenager can. Instead, this is what he comes across.

    Law had turned a corner in the markets and found the kid stumbling away from the tavern. He’d bumped into Law and promptly started crying about being lost. Now, that is not something Trafalgar Law needs to give a fuck about. A lost kid is not his problem but now he’s latches onto Law’s shirt and the crying is drawing attention.

   “Fuck,” Law hisses, teeth baring with a snarl. He really wants to punch this kid and be done with this, but he knows that won’t go well with this crowd watching. “Look, kid, I don’t have time for this. Go find someone else to help you.”

   He shoves the boy back, the motion harsher than he means it to be. He just wants to stop that snot from getting onto his new jeans.

[100yearoldcomics]

June 11, 1922 Gasoline Alley by Frank King

TOP PANEL [ID: Skeezix and Walt appear to be working for the circus. A grumpy, portly carny leans on the wheel of a transport wagon, watching over the two as they carry buckets of water off towards the elephants. Walt sweats profusely, exhausted, while Skeezix looks perfectly fine. The elephants are straining at the chains manacled to their feet, impatiently waiting for Walt. /end] Carny: Get a move on.

MAIN COMIC [ID: Walt carries baby Skeezix in his arms as he looks over the site of a carnival being set up. Teams of workers erect big white tents in a field. /end] Walt: Gee Skeezix, this brings back old times! I wouldn't have you miss this for anything!

[ID: He carries Skeezix over to gawk at a tiger in a wheeled transport cage. Skeezix doesn't look at the tiger - instead he looks off to the side at two young boys enraptured by it. /end] Walt: Never mind the boys, Skeezix. Look at the big pussy cat!

[ID: Walt carries him over to a parade, where an elephant walks past with an ornate howdah on its back. Skeezix, instead, grabs at Walt's hair. /end] Walt: No no, Skeezix! Look at the beautiful lady on the big elephant!

[ID: A clown rides a mule-drawn cart with a monkey on the mule's back. The clown holds a fishing line with some hay tied to the end to get the donkey to run. A clown behind him falls forward onto his face. Skeezix reaches into Walt's pocket to grab his watch. /end] Walt: Forget the tick-tock! Don't miss the funny clown and donkey. And the monkey! Skeezix: Tick tock! Clown: Giddap, Geraldine!

[ID: A peanut vendor walks past Walt's seat in the front row while a lady acrobat does tricks with the elephants. Skeezix lies, bored, on Walt's arm, facing away from the action. /end] Walt: Ah! Here are the peanuts, Skeezix. No circus is a circus without peanuts!

[ID: Skeezix takes the bag of peanuts and tosses it over the ledge in front of them. Walt looks on, dismayed. A troupe of acrobats does gymnastic tricks in the ring, one walking on their hands as they stretch their legs over their shoulders, one balances a tall ladder on his chin, a woman does a tightrope walk with a parasol and a man lies on his back and juggles with his feet. /end] Walt: Don't throw 'em away. You watch what's going on!

[ID: Skeezix grabs onto the forelock of Walt's hair and tugs. Walt tries to get him to look at the spectacle in the ring, where acrobats ride on the back of ponies running around in a circle. They jump through a flaming hoop. One of the riders bounces a large ball up and down as he stands on the horse's back with one foot. /end] Walt: Let go, Skeezix! See the pretty ponies! That's what we came here for!

[ID: The acrobats do a trapeze act, a woman grabbing onto the arms of a man hanging on the trapeze by his knees. Skeezix reaches out excitedly for a passing balloon vendor. /end] Walt: Why don't you pay attention to the show? Skeezix: Mp! Mmp!

[ID: A dancer, held from the ceiling by a rope held in her teeth, wears a massive billowy gown that resembles the wings of a butterfly. Skeezix is enraptured by his new balloon. /end] Walt: You can play with that at home! See the big butterfly!

[ID: A chariot race is held between two charioteers with two horses each. Skeezix has a tantrum in Walt's arms. /end] Walt: No, Skeezix. One's enough! You can't have any more. Look, the chariot race!

[ID: Walt carries Skeezix back over to the balloon vendor. Skeezix, the balloon tied to his wrist, grabs at the vendor's bunch of balloons. /end] Walt: Well, I guess one is only a start. How much for the bunch? Vendor: I'll let 'em go for three seventy five. [INFLATION GUIDE: In 2022 dollars, Walt just paid $66 to buy out the balloon vendor's stock. /end]

[ID: Skeezix takes the bundle, staring enraptured at them. Walt does a double-take as an older woman with two young children in tow walks up to him. /end] Old Matron: How much are they, my good man? I'll take two!