#HE WAS WEARING A LUMBERJACK STYLED JACKET LIKE | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

maryeve-the-bitch · 3 years ago

Text

Un jour de février

Fruk week 2021

Day 4: winter / spring

Words: 2,565

Summary: Domestic fruk. Old married couple vibe. The couple is visiting Matthew in Quebec city during the cold month of february.

Warning: French, so much french (Translations are at the end), and mention of sex. Not really explicit though.

Francis couldn’t wait to visit his son in february. However, he was dreading the cold and the weather he would face when they’d arrive in the city. He wasn’t used to that kind of cold anymore ergo he knew how much he would suffer through it. At least, he would be in good company and his boyfriend Arthur was coming as well.

As soon as Francis and Arthur landed in Quebec city, they traveled straight to their hotel since Mathieu would only be coming the next day and his meeting in the capital got delayed. Hopefully, Francis would enjoy a nice evening with his dear Arthur. The hotel room they picked had a cozy fireplace with a plaid fluffy blanket laid on the king bed. The decor of the room reminded Francis of a lumberjack’s cabin with deer antlers hanging down from the wall and the wood-like walls. While it wasn’t the usual style Francis would like, he did appreciate the coziness of it. He reminded himself not to let Arthur choose a hotel for them by himself again. At least, the bathroom was huge compared to what he is used to and in the middle of it, there was a bath that could easily fit 3 people in it. At the sight of the bath, Francis gave Arthur a teasing smirk as he tucked a lock of his blond hair behind his hair. Arthur rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Sure, love. Later.” Arthur agreed to his boyfriend’s silent plea.

Francis wrapped his arms around Arthur’s from behind.

“Je te promets qu’on passera un bon moment.¹” Francis whispered to his ear as he delicately bit it.

“I promise I’ll kick you in the arse if you don’t stop teasing.” Arthur said with his jaw clenched and a blush on his cheeks.

The comment made Francis chuckle and hugged his boyfriend closer.

“C’est trop facile de te taquiner."² Francis kissed Arthur’s cheek and let go of him.

Since they were both exhausted from the flight and the jetlag, they decided to go to bed early after they took a shower.

In the morning, they decided to wait for Mathieu to tell them when and where they would meet in their room after they got back from eating breakfast on the first floor. Francis looked outside the windows, contemplating the landscape from the city under the snow, as Arthur finished getting dressed and buttoned his shirt up.

“On n’a plus d’hiver comme ça par chez nous, hein?”³ Francis sighed.

“You never had winters like this before. Unless you count the ice age.” Arthur commented.

“Ouais. Du coup, c’est ben mieux que ta pluie 10 mois par année.”⁴ Francis retorted, looking back at his boyfriend.

Arthur glanced at Francis before taking his jacket from the bed and put it on.

“Tu sais que la reine vient pas aujourd’hui, hein?”⁵

“Shut your bloody mouth and get dressed, Francis.” Arthur sighed.

Francis let out a dramatic sigh as he let himself fall on the bed face first and grumbled Arthur’s name on the pillow. Arthur just rolled his eyes, ignoring his melodramatic scene as he was well too familiar with it. Francis turned around and sat on the edge of the bed.

“Peux-tu m’aider, mon amour?”⁶

“What? Help you get dressed? You’re not a child anymore.” As Arthur spoke, he received a notification from his phone that was placed on the desk and charging. He picked it up to see what it was.

“It’s Matthew. He wants to meet at the castle at noon.” Arthur paused to look at the time. “You’ve got one hour to get ready.”

“Quoi? Une heure?” Francis whined. "Ça nous donne même pas le temps de faire l'amour."⁷

"We would if you hurry the fuck up and stop whining."

Francis finally got up from the bed, not without whining even more. At the end, he did get ready in under an hour. When Francis got out of the bathroom, he paraded in front of Arthur who was sitting on the chair in front of the desk. Francis wore an open blue see-through shirt with some kind of green flower pattern on it. As for the bottom part, he wrote black trousers with the same flowery pattern.

"We're not going to a gay pub or a fashion show."

"Ah mais il faut que je sois à la hauteur de moi-même quand je sors. Je ne peux pas sortir comme si je serais un pauvre paysan. Pour qui tu me prends, putain?"⁸

"What the hell does that mean?" Arthur sighed. "You're going to wear a warm coat at least?"

Francis walked over to his suitcase and pulled out a navy blue double button wool coat and put it on.

"C'est sublime, non?”⁹ Francis turned around to show all angles of his outfit, feeling proud of it.

“Yes. You’re looking very handsome. You’re going to be cold though. Have you not brought something warmer?” Arthur put his hands on his waist.

“J’ai une écharpe qui ira bien avec. De toute façon, on restera pas trop longtemps dehors. Qui serait assez fou pour aller dehors en un temps pareil?”¹⁰ Francis replied.

“Right. Don’t say I haven’t warned you, frog face.”

Francis would probably die of humiliation if he had to wear something ugly so he’d rather die of hypothermia and being pretty than be seen wearing something hideous. The couple left their hotel room and took a cab to get to their destination. They were still a few minutes late, but nothing Arthur would mind and Mathieu was already waiting for them in front of the castle as agreed.

Upon meeting, Francis hugged Mathieu tightly since he hadn't seen him for months. Arthur greeted him politely under his giant coat that he brought to make sure he didn’t freeze to death. He wore both a winter hat and the hood of his coat with a scarf and at least 2 pairs of gloves. Since Mathieu knew both Arthur and Francis, he didn’t make a comment on how they were dressed. In his opinion, one was overdoing it and the other thought fashion was more important than warmth.

Since Mathieu was getting hungry, they went and looked for a restaurant. While Francis wasn’t hungry, he was gladly welcoming the idea of getting inside. He’s only been 2 minutes out and thought his nipples were already frozen. On their way to the restaurant, Francis tried to warm himself with his hands in his coat pockets and holding his arms close to his body, without much success.

After going down some stairs, at Francis’ displeasure, they walked down a small street that led to the restaurant. Francis remembered that street, he visited it during summer a long time ago. It changed a bit but not enough to not recognise it. He would admire the scenery if he wasn’t so goddamn cold. He just couldn't wait to get to the restaurant at last. Mathieu was explaining to Arthur the historic facts of some buildings even though Arthur already knew those facts; he just forgot. Their chatter sounded mostly background noises to Francis as his focus was mostly on his movements.

Finally, they reached the restaurant. They got seated and offered the menu to order.

“You’re awfully quiet, frog.” Arthur commented as he opened the menu. “Not complaining. That’s just unusual for you.”

Francis glared at his boyfriend. They both knew why he was quiet.

“Can you two stay civil please?” Mathieu asked. He knew his dads and their tendency to fight or argue way too well.

“Of course, lad.” Arthur replied. “I’d offer you my coat for a while, at least until you warm up, but I know too well you won’t accept it.” He continued.

“J’ai pas besoin de ta pitié. Je vais juste commander un bon café chaud et ça ira.¹¹ Francis replied.

“If you say so, love. I hope they offer good tea here.” Arthur said, dismissing Francis’s passive aggressivity.

The waitress came soon after and they all ordered their food and drinks. She took back the menus and left for the kitchen.

“You two are so different. I sometimes wonder how you are still together.” Mathieu commented.

Both Francis and Arthur looked at each other, Francis smiling lovingly.

“Cause we have great sex. That’s why.” Arthur answered Mathieu’s wonderment. He soon received a kick under the table from his partner.

“C’est vrai.”¹² Francis added.

“Please stop. I don’t want to know.” Mathieu interrupted Francis before he would add anything too explicit for him. The Frenchman chuckled while Arthur smiled. Well, at least, Mathieu succeeded to ease the situation between the two.

While they waited for their order, Francis grabbed Arthur’s hand under the table.

“Fucking hell, Francis!” Arthur exclaimed when he felt his boyfriend’s cold hand on his.

“Ah. Je suis désolé, mon amour.”¹³ Francis apologised, looking dejected.

“It’s fine. You surprised me, that’s all.” Arthur said softly as he took Francis’s hand in his.

Thankful, Francis smiled and let Arthur warm his hand. Usually, Arthur hated public displays of affection even as small as hand holding, so it overjoyed him that he accepted to do so.

They talked about Alfred the rest of the time they waited for the order. The American was quite busy at the time so he couldn't make it, but Matthew was grateful he couldn’t because he could easily bring all the attention to him. He appreciated the rare times he got alone with either of his parents. Even when Alfred wasn’t here, he got all the attention, but that was fine with Mathieu. He’d prefer that over Alfred present and talking loudly and interrupting him.

After lunch, Francis felt warmer and happier from the cup of coffee he drank and the small affection he received. His joy wouldn’t last long when Mathieu offered to walk alongside the river and the old port since they were close by. Arthur agreed to it too quickly, Francis thought.

“Et si on allait faire du shopping? Ça serait pas mal, non? Tu m’avais pas parlé d’un centre commercial avec un mini parc d'attractions à l’intérieur?”¹⁴ Francis suggested.

“Well, Matthew and I never liked shopping much and I don’t especially like theme parks either.” Arthur protested as he put his coat back on.

“Besides, there are probably too many people there already.” Mathieu added.

Francis pouted and followed the other two outside. They walked a few minutes until they reached a pedestrian path near the river. Arthur narrated the scenery with tales of the past, including Mathieu in it. Francis would normally enjoy joining in and teasing his partner, but he had troubles following them up even though they walked at a relatively normal pace. The Frenchman wished he was anywhere else other than outside in the cold. He thought of leaving them, calling a taxi and going back to the hotel on his own, but his fingers were already frozen again and he would have to look for the taxi’s number. Arthur probably had the phone number since he called one earlier. However, Francis was too prideful to ask him the number.

They walked and walked until they reached a small park in front of the train station. By that time, Francis thought his fingers were so frozen that he might lose some of them. His feet weren’t any better. Arthur and Mathieu spotted a bench and sat on it to take a break while Francis stood in front of them. At this point, Francis had his hands inside his coat pockets and the bottom half of his head hiding behind the scarf. Some of his hair locks were frozen too for some unknown reason and his cheeks and ears were red, almost turning to purple. When Mathieu sat down, he noticed how cold Francis looked.

“Es-tu correct, papa?”¹⁵ Mathieu asked him with concern.

“Ouais”¹⁶ was all Francis could be able to say through his shivering.

“Would you like to go back to the hotel, Francis?” Arthur sighed.

Francis nodded.

“You could have said so before, you dumb bitch.” Arthur added as he took his phone out to call a taxi.

The Frenchman didn’t have the energy to insult him back. Mathieu stood up and removed his jacket and offered it to his papa. He wouldn’t have taken it if he wasn’t so desperately cold and if he didn’t appreciate and enjoy gifts he received from his kids. The inside of Mathieu’s jacket was really fluffy and warm, like wearing a cloud.

When Arthur was done telling the taxi operator their current location, he hung up the phone and noticed Mathieu gave his jacket to Francis and only wore a red t-shirt.

“Aren’t you cold, Matthew?” He asked his son.

“Nah. It’s only -10°c anyway.” Mathieu shrugged.

Arthur almost choked himself with his saliva at this comment.

“What do you mean, ONLY -10°c? That’s too bloody cold, lad.” Arthur replied, making the taller blond boy laugh. “Even I want to go back inside and get warm. Perhaps get a cup of tea or something.”

“We can wait for your taxi inside the train station if you want.” Mathieu suggested.

The other two didn’t even have to say anything; they both agreed and followed Mathieu inside the train station.

Back at the hotel room, after Arthur took out his own coat, gloves and hat, he helped Francis get undressed and wrapped him around in the fluffy tartan blanket from the bed.

“Sit down on the chair and I’ll light up the fireplace for you.” Arthur requested him.

Francis smiled softly as he sat down in one of the two sofa chairs in front of the fireplace. It didn’t take long for him to sit with his bare feet on the chair, holding his legs close to his body. Arthur took a match out of the matchbox sitting on the top of the fireplace and lit it up. He quickly threw the match inside the fireplace and closed the glass door.

“Right. I’ll get some water boiling for tea. Would you like a cup?” Arthur asked.

“Oui, s’il te plaît.” ¹⁷

Arthur kissed his boyfriend’s red cold cheek and left to the small kitchen to boil some water with the kettle. Francis laid on the side of his head on the chair and watched him, smiling. While Arthur rarely said he loved him or complimented him much, he did care a lot when it mattered. He was there for him if he needed him and of course, Francis would do exactly the same.

Arthur came back with two cups of boiling hot water and put it down on the side table between the two sofa chairs and sat down next to Francis. The Frenchman noticed his boyfriend brought his own tea bags and even thought of bringing Francis’ favourite kind of tea even though he preferred coffee over tea. He watched as Arthur soaked the tea into the cup.

“Are you feeling better, love?”

“Oui. Merci.”

“You’re welcome”

Francis got up from his chair and went to sit on Arthur’s lap.

“What do you think you are doing?”

Francis wrapped his arms around his partner’s neck and kissed him tenderly.

“I love you.” Francis whispered after he was done kissing. Arthur blushed and pulled Francis closer.

“Je t’aime aussi.”¹⁸ Arthur whispered back.

Translation:

¹ “I promise you a great time.”

² “It’s too easy to tease you”

³ “We don’t have winter like this back home, do we?”

⁴ “Yeah. At least, it’s better than your rain for 10 months a year.”

⁵ “You know the Queen isn’t coming today, right?”

⁶ “Can you help me, my love?”

⁷"What? One hour? We won't even have time to have sex."

⁸ "I must be at the top of myself. I can't go out like a poor peasant. Who do you think I am?"

⁹ “It’s gorgeous, right?”

¹⁰ “I have a scarf that would look good with it. Anyway, we won’t stay long outside. Who in their right mind would stay outside in that kind of weather?”

¹¹ “I don’t need your pity. I’ll order a nice hot coffee and I’ll be fine.”

¹² “It’s true

¹³ “Ah. I’m sorry, my love.”

¹⁴ “What about going shopping? Wouldn’t it be nice, would it? You told me about a shopping mall with a mini theme park inside, didn’t you?”

¹⁵ “Are you ok, dad?”

¹⁶“Yeah”

¹⁷ “Yes please.”

¹⁸ “I love you too.”

#frukweek #frukweek2021 #aph fruk #hws fruk #fruk #ukfr #aph ukfr #hws ukfr #aph england #hws england #aph france #hws france #THIS TOOK ME TOO LONG #i do love fluffy old married couple trope #no beta read #we post the first draft like the finnish in russia #i legit thought we were during winter at the end like bruh we're only in August. its hot out

29 notes · View notes

sylvie-writes · 4 years ago

Text

His Little Love

pairing: steve rogers x reader x sarah

word count: 1595

request: “I was hoping for Valentines day (I know it’s not even Christmas yet but I can’t get this idea out of my head, I had a dream about it the other night and I want you to write it) of Steve taking Sarah on a daddy daughter lunch date for Valentine’s Day, like he shows up at the house with flowers for her and rings the doorbell and takes her out for lunch and they are both dressed up(he’s trying to show her how a gentleman is supposed to treat a lady and to never settle for anything less) and they go have lunch then he drops her off with her grandparents and then picks up his wife and takes her away for the weekend for a romantic Valentine’s mini vacation and they talk about adding to the family while sitting next to the fireplace?” -anon

author’s note: such a cute idea! thanks for sharing nonnie!

warnings: none

pardon any mistakes!!!

The simple ringing of the apartment doorbell sounded at the right time as you had just set down the hairbrush, now allowing for Sarah to be able to jump out of your lap and dash to the door.

Today was Valentine’s Day and about this time last week, Steve had a brilliant idea to take Sarah out for a lunch date. Granted, it was midnight when said idea popped into his head, and he was so excited he forgot that you valued your sleep more than anything he had to say. Luckily, you had a soft spot for anything Steve did for Sarah and you allowed for him to get away with waking you up that time. Then a few days later, your husband hand wrote one of his infamous letters and hand delivered it to Sarah as she watched some cartoons on the couch that morning. While this all happened, you were in the kitchen, preparing breakfast for your daughter and heard her ever-adorable, squeal of excitement.

Fast forward a few more days, and Valentine’s Day has arrived. Steve had gone out that morning, going to arrange things and what not, allowing you some time to dress Sarah. She had picked out one of her favorite dresses that was sparkly, as with everything else that resided in her closet. From there, you blow dried her hair and styled it which was a big deal as the little munchkin would never allow you to do so for any other event. That’s how she showed up to Nat and Bucky’s wedding with two lopsided pigtails. Out of tradition, you spritzed some of your perfume and Sarah giddily walked through the cloud.

11:30 on the dot, Steve punctually arrived at your apartment door, and that’s when your toddler lurched from her seat in your lap and to the door to meet her date. On the way, she had forgotten a sock as you saw one foot bare. With a small giggle, you slightly jogged to meet the girl at the door where she was slipping on her shoes, and failing a bit. You slipped on her other sock and then helped fasten the buckles on her little mary-jane shoes. Sighing in relief, you stood up to answer the door where your husband waited with a bouquet in his hands, wearing a gray suit and tie that made him look even more dashing than usual.

“You ready, my little valentine?” Steve bent down to slip on Sarah’s jacket and you could see a smile permanently etched onto her face. She then placed her hand in his and the two left but not without each kissing you goodbye. You stood in the doorway and wished the pair a good time. “I expect her to be home before ten, Rogers!”

Steve looked back at you with a wink, “Of course, ma’am.”

From the window, you could see the tall blonde opening the door for the smaller lookalike and his mouth moving a mile a minute, presumably saying something along the lines of, “Rule of thumb, if a guy doesn’t open the door for you, then he doesn’t deserve your time.” You knew that today he was going to be showing her how a real gentleman should act. Once they both got situated in the car, you chuckled to yourself and attended your own date with a pile of laundry.

Around one o’clock, your family returned, happy, talkative, and smiley as usual. Sarah couldn’t stop talking and the minute she walked in the house, she ran to sit on the couch beside you. She seemed absolutely thrilled by the events of her lunch date with Steve, that she told you every single detail and it felt as if you were there with her, rather than currently sitting on the couch folding towels.

At one point, about five minutes into your daughter’s story, you looked up for Steve who had seemingly disappeared. Scanning the room, you could spot his figure in your bedroom, on the phone with someone and whoever it was, they were making him smile just like the toddler before you. It piqued your curiosity to say the least, but instead of interrupting Sarah or Steve, you just stayed put and listened to the rest of the little darling’s story. A few minutes later, the recollection of the lunch date came to an end and Sarah had wandered off to get a fruit snack pouch, or was it a bottle of water? You had zoned out a bit, too preoccupied with a certain man’s whereabouts and just nodded your head as she asked if you wanted one. Suddenly, Steve put down his cell phone, and turned to catch your stare. A bit embarrassed, you looked back down at the daunting laundry basket that now held clothes. In a split second, the man had already crossed the room and taken the seat beside you on the couch. He kissed your temple before reaching down to help fold. For a few minutes, you both folded clothes in comfortable silence when Steve momentarily paused to remove his tie. You could see him struggling so you stopped your own folding to face him and untie the darn thing. He looked down on you with a smile and you returned the gesture along with a kiss to the corner of his lips. Slowly, you wrapped your arms around his neck and blissfully gazed at him.

Steve looked at you with a smirk and you were confused until he spoke up. “You’re probably wondering who I was on the phone with, huh?”

With a small laugh, you nodded your head in defeat.

“Well, it was your parents…” At this you cocked your head and raised an eyebrow, “I was asking them if they could watch Sarah this weekend.” He shrugged and you removed your arms, leaning back.

“Steven Grant Rogers, what are you up to?” He shook his head, signaling that it wasn’t anything that you should’ve been worried about. It was quite the opposite, in fact. “Nothing bad, love. I was gonna whisk you away this weekend if it’s okay.”

The minute you agreed, Sarah coincidentally returned to the room with her backpack in hand. “I heard Mommy say yes!” Apparently she was in on it too and you let out a breathy laugh at their sneaky planning. Standing from the couch and leaving Steve to finish the laundry, you went to go and actually pack Sarah’s backpack. Although you appreciated her effort, stuffed animals wouldn't be enough for the weekend.

That night, you and Steve arrived at a log cabin in the northern part of New York. On the drive over, it had started to snow, making the atmosphere even more enjoyable, especially with the outlook onto the icy lake. It was nice and quiet and you questioned how he was able to score such a place for Valentine's Day weekend. Needless to say, it had been a while since you and Steve had alone time such as this. Your husband had now changed into a flannel, and he looked a bit like a lumberjack which made you laugh as the burly man toted the bags inside.

For dinner, Steve had ordered some Chinese takeout and drove into the nearby small town while you got ready for the night as it was nearing nine o’clock. In your duffle bag that was packed last minute, you had one of your lover’s long sleeves in there, the one that was your favorite to curl up in. Changing into that, you then waited for a few minutes on the couch when Steve returned, a bag of cardboard cartons in one hand while the other held your favorite bouquet of flowers. (Upon closer inspection, you noticed there were as many flowers as the years you two had been together.) The two of you then picked a movie and sat in each other’s embraces, cycling through eating, laughing about the movie, or chatting about anything and everything, including Sarah, of course.

Empty takeout containers scattered across the coffee table, the movie’s end was nearing, the crackle of the fire had died down, and your head was now sleepily resting on Steve’s arm that had been wrapped around your shoulders.

“Hey (y/n), you awake, darling?” You could feel Steve turn his head to take a peek at you. Sitting up, you shifted to face him, arm resting on the back of the couch and hand propping you up. “What’s up?”

“I have something important to ask you.” Steve looked a bit nervous and you reached out to soothingly grab his shoulder while giving him your full attention.

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while, you know Sarah’s getting older, and we’ve talked about more kids. Now honey, if you don’t think now is the right time, that’s okay, but I figured I should bring it up and see what you were thinking.” By the end of his speech, Steve had taken your hands out of your own lap and now was placing soft kisses to your knuckles. All of this took you by surprise, but the good kind. For a while you’ve been thinking the same thing, but you never really thought to bring it up. Somehow you and Steve always seemed to be on the same page even if you didn’t know it.

“I think that would be amazing, bubs.”

There was the most endearing smile on his lips and he immediately pulled you in for a hug, whispering sweet nothings into your ear.

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @aubreeskailynn @calirindo @lady-elena-adeline @siriuslyslyslytherin @sushiinmidnight @patzammit @iwik3it

#Steve Rogers #dad steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x y/n #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers one shot #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x female reader #steve rogers x wife reader

119 notes · View notes

earthstellar · 4 years ago

Text

My TFP Humanformers Headcanons: With Pictures This Time

Originally posted here, but that’s all text only.

In my defence, I studied fashion at university level for two years, so this post was inevitable.

Optimus Prime - James Dean Style, aka “Hot Dad”

Optimus would probably love doing the research to determine human styles and what he likes best.

I can picture him doing a 1950s inspired look, more Greaser than stuffy suits, but in a more James Dean way and not John Travolta in Grease kind of way if he needed to go undercover as Jack’s dad or something.

He’d be a bit older than James Dean was in the above photo, definitely in his 30s at the youngest. Would still have silver mixed in with his black hair, to replicate the silver details on his helm. He doesn’t smoke, but might chew on a pen cap every now and then without thinking about it.

Ultra Magnus - Vittorio de Sica - Classic Italian Suit Chic

When doing research into human styles, Optimus showed him a Hermes magazine and some European business style guides from GQ and decided he liked the formal suit look. I imagine he’d have a very Italian look to him, as he might be wearing an Italian or Continental style suit.

For some reason, Magnus as a 40 or 50 year old stern and stylish Italian guy just works really well. He’d be extremely well dressed, well groomed, would still demand authority, and I imagine him looking like Vittorio de Sica, pictured above.

He would perhaps use his holoform to accompany Fowler in discussions with some military superiors.

Initially, he wanted to pick a military style uniform for his holoform, and Fowler had to explain to him in detail why that wasn’t an acceptable thing to do. So he went for chic lawyer instead.

Ratchet - Old War Vet + What He Thinks is Nevada Style: George Gabby Hayes

Ratchet would literally just be my dad or any of his old war buddies, possibly with a mobility aid like a cane or walking stick because that seems to be very popular amongst my dad and his friends. (To quote my father: “I can walk with it and I can beat people with it, so it works fine for me, don’t touch me dammit I can get up by myself.”)

I get the feeling he’d approach designing his holoform from a logical angle, wanting to fit in with the locals to avoid detection. Unfortunately, this meant he found a bunch of old Western movies online when looking up style inspiration, and decided that this was probably the best look to go for since all these movies were filmed in Nevada, so surely this would be familiar to people, right? (Wrong.)

He’d be tough and wrinkly, but give those precious old man smiles with big twinkling eyes that shine so brightly against his old weathered skin, and that alone would get him get out of trouble with the authorities-- Or helps him get the others out of trouble. He would play the “I’m just an old person, what do you want from me” card and he would succeed. Then he’d turn around and get mad that everyone treats him like he’s old, lmao.

Arcee - Tori Amos: Late 1990s/2000s Casual

Arcee would go for 20s-30s in terms of age, motorcyclist, we already see this on screen every now and then. I think they would estimate for approximate human age relative to one another’s Cybertronian age, so this works as Arcee seems to be younger than the rest.

I picture her outside of her motorcycle gear in a very late 90s/early 2000s style look, casual but stylish. It would throw people off because she’s so much mature than what people might assume, which gives her an edge in conversation.

Her cover story could be that she’s Jack’s cousin, or maybe a friend of his mom’s, depending on what the mission/situation is. Could also possibly say that she’s one of Jack’s co-workers if need be. She’d probably redesign her holoform to have red hair just to troll Jack (the classmate he has a crush on is a redhead).

Bulkhead - Mark Sagato + 1990s Alt Rock Gear

I can easily picture Bulkhead’s holoform looking similar to Mark Sagato, pictured above, who is a former Sumo wrestler and a film actor.

He’d be rocking a green cargo jacket layered with a plaid flannel shirt over a plain white tee or a band t-shirt and blue jeans with black steel toe boots, possibly with a workman’s tool belt. His cover story could be that he’s Miko’s uncle visiting from Japan!

I imagine a very casual 90s alternative rock meets almost-lumberjack look for him, to match Miko a bit. He’d probably have some ribbon wristbands from live shows/gigs up his arm, because Miko would absolutely encourage accessorising.

Wheeljack - Billy Idol + Specifically Grunge Punk

Wheeljack would be every single old school dude in the grunge punk scene that I’ve ever met. He’d look like an older Billy Idol, but only if you imagine what that would look like, not like, the actually currently old Billy Idol.

Older guy, skinny but tough, jean jacket covered in patches and buttons and pins, black jeans held together with random string sewn in like embroidery thread, a pair of Converse so old that they might be from the 70s original line. Grey bandana also covered in pins around his head and another around his neck. He would also have ribbon wristbands from shows, courtesy of Miko’s style advice.

Bumblebee - Fred Olande: 1995 Was a Great Year for Skateboarding

Bumblebee would be a young guy, maybe even late teens/early 20s, massively baggy yellow hoodie with a black jean vest over the top like a lot of young guys wore in the 90s back when I wasn’t a dinosaur myself. Jeans that are pale from being worn/washed too many times, threadbare around the knees, wearing some kind of skateboarding shoe. I imagine him wearing a beanie as well. Every pocket is full of graffiti pens for the skatepark and his phone screen is cracked.

Raf would help him with his holoform details, and I can picture him basing his look off of some of Raf’s family photos, so he’d definitely be Mexican/Latinx. His cover story could be that he’s Raf’s cousin visiting from a border town or Mexico, and his excuse for not speaking would simply be that he doesn’t know that much English, so that would work out perfectly.

Smokescreen - 1970s/1980s Sports Gear Forever

Smokescreen would inevitably try to go for a 1970s/80s movie inspired sporty look, and would probably look to be about in his late teens/early 20s.

Think classic white Nikes, very sporty 80s style with a white and blue puffy jacket (or sweat shirt) and red fabric wristbands. If anyone has a mullet or a feathered hair style, it’s gonna be Smokescreen. His tank top is Adidas, and his sweatpants are also Adidas.

Unfortunately, he then discovers that shorts exist, and cycles between the classic Butterick patterns above, depending on the mission/who he is trying to impress that day.

(I won’t lie, I did the shorts over sweatpants thing well into the 90s. Yes, I was made fun of.)

#humanformers #transformers prime #tfp #wheeljack #bulkhead #optimus prime #ratchet #bumblebee #arcee #ultra magnus #maccadam

111 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 4 years ago

Text

Ducktales: Woo-oo! Review! or From the Top

Hello all you happy people! And to those of you just joining this blog, welcome I review ducks, other animated shows and comics... and today’s review is special for me. For a number of reasons. For starters it’s a reminder how far i’ve come. See I always wanted to be a reviewer, ever since high school when a friend showed me a certain online reviewer whose now dead to me, and opened me up to a world of much better reviewers who i’m still fans of to this day, and ones who came after them , and after that and so on and so on. I so badly wanted a community to belong to I struggled to be a youtube reviewer but frankly lacked the talent or self confidence back then to try, so my attempts over the decade were a series of stops and starts. Of me starting to find my niche writing only to stop because I hated myself so much, and still struggle with that, i’d tell myself I could never do it, I wasn’t good enough, I wasn’t funny enough and no one cared. I kept shutting myself down AGAIN AND AGAIN, for far too long.

But that all changed a year ago next month: I’d long been a fan of the Ducktales Reboot. I was caustiously optimistic when it was announced. The optimism came from a deep abiding love of scrooge as a character despite not having dove into his comics that deep, I didn’t have an easy way at the time, thanks to life and times and what comics I had read, and was excited to see a fresh reboot closer to the comics with my eternal boy Donald Duck back in the main character. The caution.. came from the fact that at the time we’d gotten a string of bad to medicore reboots: Teen Titans GO, Powerpuff Girl, and Ben 10 which started pretty meh but has turned into alirght from some of the later episodes I saw. I wanted to be hyped to all hell but I had no proof this wasn’t going to be another dumbed down reboot. Then comic con came, the first teaser poster dropped, and my skepticism died.

It was perfect: a barksian art style with it’s own twists! Donald full on display! And best of all the triplets FINALLY had not only unique outfits but personalities! I’ve long went on in my reviews about how much that annoyed me and while it worked for the barks comics ever since then it’s just felt like a waste to have three characters there.. and not even the SLIGHTEST difference.

My anticipation only grew with the full trailer, the promo posters as more and more info showed how good this series would be, how unique it’d be, and how much tw as taking what made the comics great, giving us a better distalation of that while still being very much it’s own beast. And once this episode dropped.. that faith was unfounded. Woo-oo! is without hyperbole, one of the best pilots i’ve seen, one that introduced the entire main cast perfectly, gets the series tone and mission statment out just right and in general set the stage for one of the best shows of the 2010′s (and 2020′s, even if it only lasted a year and some change). Wheras Teen Titans GO actively tried to take a dump on it’s source material, they thankfully have stopped that but it dosent’ make those early years any less grating, Ducktales was a breath of fresh air that honored the past while making i’ts own future. I tried talking about it but it was all in other failed attempts at reviewing: solo podcasts, my breif second video review career.. stuff no one rightly cared about and I just couldn’t get the hang of.

So this is where we loop back to last year: I decided to finally try and cover it one more time, not realizing this would be my last chance as it came out anyway, and since I was doing text reviews but my output had slid in the new year, I decided to review Season 3 as it came out. If it bottomed out I could always stop.... and I just never did. I kept going, eventually finding new fans, a patreon (The other one’s an old friend of mine), and not only got paid doing what I love.. but found some peace. I reviewed other shows as they came out, covered things i’d wanted to cover for years like life and times, scott pilgrim and x-men,. I covered other shows as they came out, found people willing to talk over my opinions and found my niche at long last.

So that’s why the long speech folks: After almost a year of reviewing i’m properly covering the start of something that made me happier than I had been in a long time and gave me hope during one of the worst periods of ALL our lives. Something i’ve wanted to cover since I finally got started last year, and something truly amazing. So i’d be honored if you’d join me under the cut as I talk about the genesis of one of the best series Disney has ever put out.

Behind the Scenes Stuff: Most details I could find were sparse. it took going back to the first month the show came out and looking at a LOT of unrelated questions to finally find out Frank and Matt outright pitched the show. This dosen’t suprise me as both are huge ducktales fans with Matt having drawn his own duck comics as a kid and Frank taking it an extra mile having sang the theme song in his first grade talent show, worked it into his vows and got his first daughter’s first word to be “Woo-oo”. It’s very clear this show as a labor of love for them something they dreamed of Disney made possible.

Otherwise I don’t have much on the genisis of the show: It was in the earliest ideas going to be a revivial but Frank and Matt both decided against it , deciding it’d be unfair to expect kids from 30 years after the original to know the source material, and instead just starting it over outright, which was the right call especailly with Alan Young’s passing.

Design wise I found quite a bit of concept art thanks to one website, and it’s incredibly intresting. This is why i’ve really gotten into art books: I like seeing this early stuff what characters used to be, figuring out or outright hearing from the creators mouths why they changed it that sort of thing.

Starting off we have some early designs for Donald, with him wearing the sailor suit as a kid but his Quackshot outfit as an adult, something I honestly wish they’d kept but get why they changed it: The iconic sailor suit both helps contrast him with della and fits his reluctance to adventure in season 1 more. I still wish that they worked the Quackshot outfit in somewhere, but they worked in so damn much, it’s hard to complain> Though I probably will make a list of “things I wished they’d worked” in at some point and i’d be lying inf I siad my mind wasn’t currently turning the gears to figure out how to work this into a fanfic. Oohhh maybe as Dewey’s outfit as an adult but blue, obviously.

Next we have Donald settled more into his final apperance as well as the boy’s first outfits. As you can tell from both of these the show originally went more with the classic art style before getting the one we’re familiar with now, one I love by the way and was made to combine a classic cartoon style with the visual of the comics. Donald originally had his classic outfit before they transitioned to the more barks style one, a good call.

The interesting bit though is obviously the boys original outfits which i’m honestly bummed didn’t make it for Huey and Louie, not so much Dewey minus the visor. I do get the changes though: The hoodie Dewey had fit WAY beter on Louie, and the lumberjack shirt didn’t quite fit the nerdier huey. Still look nice. Dewey’s is okay, but only the visor is something I really gregret them removing same with louie’s fedora. It would’ve been neat ot keep the hat thing, but have each hat be unique. Likely they simplified things to make animation easier and simply removed the hats for some reason, but it’s nice ot see these more detailed original drafts and it is VERY interesting to find that differentiating the triplets was something planned from the earliest concept art. Though given Matt and Frank said in interviews they wanted a more natural family feel, it’s not a huge surprise.

Scrooge like everyone BUT the boys thus far, naturally also had his original outfit at first, but like he ended up doing in the series rotated a bit, if not as much in the final product. We also see a protoype for his final design, the old coat but with a jacket over it in the last image. I also notice Donald seemed a lot more like his old comics self in the concept art with quackshot!donald.

Like everyone else, Webby and Launchapd were originally their 87 deisgns, though Launchpad’s slightly diffrent jacket and green scarf were changed from the start. Webby is the closest to her 87 design, and as shown in the previous Lena concept art from my “Spies Like Us and Dime after Dime” double feature, she still had her new personality. More on that in a bit.

Finally we have Flintheart, whose design is a bit diffrent from 87: He was a chub from day one it appears, though they’d exagerate it, and his beard was a bit longer at first like his other incarnations.

Beakly is largely unchanged form 87, only given a coat, which would gradually be mofidied, much liekt he boys into her current outfit.

As you can tell Beakly, Webby and Launchpad were all there from day one as they wanted them from the original ducktales just updated.

Production wise they wanted to go handrawn, chose the style they did to have something close to the comics that felt classicly aniamteda t the same time, I feel they succeeded and wanted a show that felt like the original. I do think this show has it’s own feel but it does feel ducktales. I badly hope for an artbook at some point though as this show probably hada LOT more intresting concept art. Seriously Disney I will PAY YOU to look at your neat art. Please.

So they created a fully formed world and put the characters in it, wanting it to feel like the world had existed before and had throughly been explored and letting our young heroes be the watson to Donald and Scrooge’s holmes.

Finally Della was indeed part of the initial pitch and a core idea from day one as every family has secrets and Della felt like one that had been lurking around the fringes of the story for 80 years. The rest of the production stuff i’ll weave in as we go but first one last stop, the STELLAR voice cast, none of whom outsideo f Tony i’ve talked about before sooooo...

The All Star Cast

The casting was outstanding here, with Matt admitting the cast brought a LOT to the characters, especially Ben Schwartz whose taken on Dewey was so unique and intresting they actually rewrote some of his dialouge for the pilot to fit this version better. This is far and away one of the best casts in western animation, most coming from comedy backgrounds and one or two coming from a voice acting background, but all bringing their absolute best. And since our main 8 are all in the pilot let’s run them down along with Keith Ferguson shall we?

Playing everyone’s faviorite billionare scotsman and one of the very few to ever do so, we have David Fucking Tennant. David was their “First and only choice” and for good reason: David is a talented actor with a MASSIVE amount of stage, tv and audio drama credits. His biggest and best known role is playing the 10th Doctor on Doctor Who, which while not my faviorite (That’d be matt smith, as he’s both the one I came in on and hte one who got me hooked) he’s still VERY close second and damn talented and I need to watch more of his tenure. Outside of that just to condense it to his ongoing roles on stuff and bigger roles: Filmwise he’s had starring roles in the Fright Night remake, You, Me and Him, Fish Without Bicycles and Bad Samartains, and is set to do a voice for the upcoming Loud House Movie, which excites me to no end.

TV wise where most of his roles have been he got his first big starring role on the Telly with the BBC Mini series Taking Over the Asylum in the late 90′s. He’d go on to make a career out of doing mini’s for a while, also taking part in He Knew He Was Right, The Quatermass Experiment Remake, Casanova, Secret Smile.. and Blackpool. I saved Blackpool for last before we move into the Who era as if you’ve never heard of it.. it’s REALY fucking weird. It’s a jukebox musical about a man who wants to make Blackpool, a real city, into the new vegas and Tennat plays a cop investigating a case around the guy and also trying to get with his wife because they used to date and because our lead is philandering jackass. That’s already kinda nuts.. but then you get to the fact the songs are sung OVER the original songs instead of making a new version of them. It’s surreal to be sure but if you can find it it’s worth it for the handful of good numbers and how weird it looks and you can find clips of the songs on youtube if your intrested. Here’s a starter.

youtube

Your also welcome. He’d go on to play Detective Alec Hardy in Broadchurch to critical aclaim as well as be a part of it’s short lived american remake, would play the Fugitoid in tmnt 2007, Kilgrave in Jessica Jones, one of his few post who roles i’ve seen or heard besides Scrooge and easily some of his best work he NAILS that purple bastard perfectly, would make his own show Staged about a fictional version of himself putting on a Stage play that’s still ongoing, and is currently , along with Ducktales as it wraps up, the voice of Lord Commander on Final Space, with the character returning this season judging by the trailers to fan delight and terror. He’s a VERY talented actor and voice actor and I do hope he goes on to do more and more voice work in years to come as, with his background in radio, he was born for it.

He was also born for this roll, playing Scrooge perfectly and easily matching Alan Young in quality, not a small feat and i’ts VERY obvious why he was their one and only choice.

Next up is another legend, Tony Anselmo who we’ve talked about before when I covered legend of the Three Cablleros: He’s been Donald’s voice since shortly before Ducktales, hasn’t done much else but given he’s THE voice for the character and this show let him show off one hell of a range with teh voice, he dosen’t really need other credits. The man is a treasure and I fear loosing him one day and fear for whoever replaces him as they have a LOT to live up to.

Getting into the triplets, we’re going by age so starting off we have Huey, voiced by Danny Pudi. Like most of this cast aside from Toks Ogladyve and Beck Bennet (Who I probably HAD seen on SNL but didn’t really know or look out for him on there till after Ducktales), I not only knew Danny but was a huge fan of his going in. This is due to his breakout role on the glorious sitcom Community, which sadly only had a handful of i’ts cast show up on this show. I mean you got Lin Manuel Miranda I’m sure Donald Glover would’ve said yes too. He grew up with Ducktales. Regardless his role as meta guy Abed was easily the best of the cast on that show, with Glover as troy a very close second and the two working at their best as a duo. Outside of that he’s had a few roles being a regular on Powerless, which I forgot existed and currently on Mythic Quest: Raven’s Banquet, and shockingly hasn’t done a ton of voice work. And given his performance as huey was one of the best parts of this show he REALLY, REALLY SHOULD. Please Danny. He’s also a loving husband, father and surprisingly a marathon runner. Never would’ve guessed.

Next up is SNL Alumn of 9 years, Bobby Monynihan. Bobby is naturally best known for that, my faviorite role of his being Ass Dan. That’s right bitch you know he’s going to live fore..

ASS DAN 1981-2021

He’ll be back. Outside of SNL he’s done a bunch of minor roles. He’s currently on the tragically mediocre sitcom Mr. Mayor, and voiced Panda on We Bare Bears. Hopefully he keeps up the good work as he deserves better than he’s gotten and Ducktales proves it.

Finally for the triplets we have a rising star in voice acting, Ben Schrwartz. At the time Ducktales launched, I was a fan of his from his roll on parks and Rec as Jen Ralphio, aka older scummier Dewey.

youtube

Outside of his historic recurring role here he played a main role on House of Lies, a show I need to go back to, and has done other live action rolls but has REALLY hit his stride in voice acting. He started with voicing Randy Cunningham in Randy Cunningham 9th grade ninja and since then has hit the ground running: He was Rutabega on Bojack, Josh on Bob’s Burgers, and went on to complete the trifecta of blue nostalgic characters after voicing dewey by voicing Leo in Rise of the TMNT (and having one of the most unique and intresting versions of the character to play) and reprised the roll for the upcoming film. And of course he hit it HUGE by playing Sonic in the suprsingly fantastic Sonic the Hedgehog movie, and will do so again for the sequel and might even take up the roll for the games now Roger Craig Smith has retired. We shall see. Point is this guy’s at the top of his game and Dewey is part of that. Like with his brothers I can’t picture anyone else playing him.

Rounding out the kids is Webby, played by the wonderous Kate Micucci. Kate is a lovely talented woman who mostly showed up in smaller parts, was part of the musical duo garfunkel and oates which even got their own tv show, and is currently a fairly prolific voice actor with this being her best known roll. I also had a bit of a crush on her once can you tell? Regardless besides absolutely nailing it as Webby she’s voiced Julie Kane in the crimnally short and even more crimnally not on Disney+ Motorcity, “Irma” in the 2012 TMNT cartoon, and the fact that “Irma” is in quotes should tell you how big a waste I felt it was having her NOT actually be Irma, despite Kate’s massive talent, the fact that Irma hadn’t been in anything since the 87 cartoon, and the fact that for added “Fuck you audience points” her krang form was voiced by Gilbert Godfried, who I love but whose casting feels like they wanted to make the twist as grating as possible. Good job there.

Anyways her second biggest voice gig was as Sadie on Steven Universe, which took WAY too long to show off her absolutely tremendous singing voice. She started voicing Velma Dinkley in the mid-2010′s and has since, voiced Milo’s sister Sarah on Milo Murphy’s Law, Dr. Fox on Unikitty, and most recently voiced a sentient present on close enough who did this.

So yeah quite the career and like Ben she probably has a long and storied career in Voice Acting ahead.

Next up is Beck Bennet as everyone’s friend Launchpad where he excels. He’s best known as a castmember on SNL outside of this, and shockingly hasn’t done a ton of voice work. The only other time i’ve caught him is in the same season of Close Enough as Luc, aka dude-bro satan. But like eveyrone else here who hasn’t done a lot of voice work so far or has been more selective I defintely hope he keeps going with it as he’s amazing. He and Ben will be co-starring on MODOK in May so i’m excited for that.

Last up for the main cast is Beakly, voiced by Toks Olagundoye, who I hadn’t heard of before this show and hasn’t done a lot outside of the two season sitcom the neighbors, the aliens one not the really terrible looking one, and a stint on Castle, but like everyone here deserves much more and if Beakly is any indication, really should stick with voice acting.

Last up is Keith Ferguson as only he could as FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD, whose a staple in the voice acting community ever since 2000, and has had a TON of roles some of which I was unaware with him. Given Frank worked with him on Wonder Over Yonder, where he voiced Lord Hater to perfection, the two clearly have a close working relationship. He also has a close working relationship with Wonder creator Craig McCracken and has worked on all of his post-powerpuff girls show, voicing Bloo as his first major role, something I never would’ve guessed, and currently voicing Papa G on Kid Cosmic.

Outside of Craig and Frank, he played both Karate Kid and Nemisis Kid on Legion of Super Heroes (Which really needs to come to HBO Max), Deputy Durland on Gravity Falls, and Thunderbolt Ross on Avengers Earth’s Mighteist Heroes. He’s damn good and deserves the world for Glomgold alone and i’m glad Craig rung him up again as so far through my watch of Kid Cosmic he’s great.

So with our cast in place, our past in place and you all likely ready to get on with it already let’s dive into the episode:

THE EPISODE: Part one Woo-Ooo!

We begin with a shot of a seagull flying overseagulls, a nice way to establish how this world works and how it bends expectations. They’d have to wait till season 3 to get a duck next to ducks but given that gag is one of the best of the series, it was worth it.

Inside a house boat we meet Donald, Huey and Louie and get a sense of their personalities: Donald is panicked trying to get to a job interview and insists the boys wear life vests, showing his overprotectiveness and responsibility exclusive to this version. Louie stresses that Donald wear a suit instead of his normal clothes to properly impress the interviewer, showing his skill at people reading and manipulation, and Huey is making a nice, if messy, breakfast with a heartwarming message showing his heart and dedication. After finding out said Babysitter was sent to the wrong address, the boys TRY to hustle him out to stay alone.. only for Dewey to blow the scheme by starting the boat too early, letting Donald know he’s been had. Huey’s attempt to lie about it is of course the classic “Who’s Dewey?” Dewey’s caught wiring the boat and Donald throws them in the car, with Donald livid and the boys upset as their chafing at his constant overprotectiveness.

Both sides aren’t wrong. tThe boys DID do something reckless, putting an old woman in the desert and risking their home just to go on a joyride. What they did was wrong.. but the boys AREN’T wrong for getting annoyed that he won’t let them DO anything and overly hovering over them when they CAN handle themselves as we’ll see. WE now know why: he lost their mother and his sister to her and scrooge’s recklesness. While he got therapy for his anger it’s clear he never properly got help about Della, and thus overcompensates by trying to keep what he has left of her alive. He means well.. but to them it comes off as him being manically overprotective with no good reason. They get into trouble because it’s the only way to DO anything away from him. He’s trying so hard not to loose them he almost has by the time hte series starts, and it’s telling that when they get context in Last Crash, they appricate him more from then on. They do love him, but their frustration is understandable even if what their doing is pretty damn stupid. But their also 10 and Donald’s the grown adult in therapy who should’ve dealt with this or tried to at least by now.

So with no other options Donald sets a course for McDuck manor which excites the boys who have heard of Scrooge McDuck and his exploits, each rattling off something they heard him do that fits their personality (Dewey picks him fighting a stone monster, Huey picks him uncovering a hoax and Louie picks his swimming in money. ) As Donald tries to get them to simmer down, they wonder what he’s up to

He’s up toooo.. depression. He’s in a room with his board, watching them with utter hate and sadness as they talk about cutting the invention and aviation departments. This scene plays ENTIRELY differently after the final two episodes of the season. Before it still plays well as Scrooge clearly resenting being stuck in a boring board meeting, having lost everything that made him him and just having lost his passion for life. Now? It plays as a man utterly disdainful of the men who made him give up on his daughter. While as far as he knows they did it to save his employees from his company collapsing, we know better now... and seriously where IS the rest of the board they just vanished after the Season 3 premiere.

I don’t mind only one being fleshed out, unlike the triplets we only NEED the one I mind that they just never explained it and still haven’t. Hopefully the finale will.

But back on the plot, it now plays as Scooge just full of hatred for them, knowing they had to do what they did, even if they weren’t emebzlling but still hating them and himself. He’s likely not even paying attention anymore because he just dosen’t CARE: he has all the money int he world.. and it couldn’t bring him his daughter back. As he sadly puts the coins he was fiddling with back and says see you tommorow he can’t even close the vault without a struggle. As we’ll see later the strength never left, it’s not like he stopped execrising.. but he has nothing left to fight for. Nothing left to care about. He could adventure agian so far.. but without Della or Donald, as we’d learn two seasons later the reason he enjoyed it again... what’s the point? He has nothing left except his money.

This is also a nice parallel to the final Chapter of LIfe and Times. I always felt the first half of woo-ooo was a spiritual adaptation of chapter 12 of that: Scrooge meets the boys for the first time and with their help, and Donalds in the story< Webby and Launchpad here, he regains his passion and more importantly his family after driving them away> The how is very different: he did in life and times due to sinking to his lowest point morally, then cruelly dismissing his family when they tried to welcome him home and bury the hatchet despite what he’d done. Here.. he made a HORRIBLE mistake, one that wasn’t entirely on him but still cost him everything and spent the decade instead of stewing or making more money trying desperately to undo it. The end result is the same, a dried out husk of a man with nothing left to loose and no will to gain anything.

This husk has launchpad though whose introduced as his driver and while good with subs and planes.. isn’t great on the road. After that though Donald pulls up hoping to drop the kids off before Scrooge arrives. Naturally this being a cartoon and Donald having tempted fate with that Scrooge shows up telling him to jettison that Jallopy at once. And finding out who it is, apart from asking how Donald is and Donald doing the same, dosen’t sway him. The boys however freak out after finding out Scrooge is Donald’s and there uncle, with my faivriote bit of that being Dewey exiting the car via a window and rolling across the roof back in. Amazing bit of animation. Wish I had a gif of that.

Donald makes the situation plane and angry and asks “Can you do that without LOOSING THEM”. And scrooge is so painfully disarmed by his reminder of his past mistakes and the fact his surrogate son still resents him, that he agrees before realizing “Shit I have to watch children now don’t I” as Donald drives off. As you probably guessed, this is another scene that plays differently in hindsight, if not by much: It still plays as two men too stubborn and bitter to reconcile.. but now we know the why behind both their rages it feels even sadder. They both lost the person they cared about most but as it sadly happens in real life both have dug in their heels to reconcile, both feeling their right when neither completely is. While Donald was right to be upset at scrooge and della for what happened, and is mostly taking it out on scrooge because he’s the one left... he’s held onto his anger for 10 years instead of going to help when he’s unemployed, living in a dilapidated houseboat and trying ot raise three children alone and could’ve used what help scrooge would give. Scrooge is right to be upset that Donald is just selectively ignoring everything he’s done to save Della, but is too stubborn and prideful to apologize for what he DID do wrong and feels that’s enough to make up for it when , while it is enough that donald should forgive him, still dosen’t mean he dosen’t have a lot to apologize for. Both are just too angry and too much alike, as much as it woudln’t seem so, to settle with each other and see too much of what they lost.

So the kids follow Scrooge.. who forgets to open the door, and Beakly lets them in. It’s a nice subtle bit. After some silence, Bentina TRIES to get her old friend and now employer to talk to them, but he naturally refuses and they do the talking, asking tons of questions.. and Dewey ends the conversation by accidently pressing the “imply he USED to be something rather than is something right now “ button

So Scrooge throws them in the twins old room, and Beakly gives them some marbles. You will give them b ack they will be counted. But another subtle touch I missed the first time is there... her sad look. She clearly doesn’t want to do this, but she has to play this carefully or else he might get mad and fire her on the spur of the moment. He’d obviously hire her back, where else is he going to get an ex spy who will both clean for him AND be his bodyguard and security. It’s a very small pool. Mostly because Beakly probably killed most of the other people who’d of fit that description during her spy days.

Scrooge meanwhile is still rattled by Dewey’s statment, wondering if he really is a “used to be” instead of a “never left”. The fire is starting to spark again.. he just needs more kindling. And more kin.

Meanwhile Louie and Huey marvel at Dewey’s “Brilliant’ breakout plan: hit the door knob with the sack of marbles til lit breaks. To be fair, they’ve known dewey as long as they’ve been alive and even by season 3 after he’s taken several levels in badass and cunning.. he still crashed a plane because his brother well-meaningly called him basic, and thought being nearly sacrificed the most times was an accomplishment. This is the best he could do and you all know it. It also works, so they can’t fault him for that... though he’s quickly kidnapped as are they. They wake up after the commerical break in a room with pure darkness, hung from the celing with a mystery person asking who they are and who they work for before Louie calls out for “uncle scrooge”... so she claps the lights back on and..

Well close. But it is Webby, who cuts them down, fangirls over meeting the nephews and asks who the evil triplet is. They all point to Louie who shrugs it off. I mean it was funny enough the first time but at this point I know he’s running several fradulent charites, almost all scamming his uncle. He’s earned that title. Webby puts them on the big board and then when asked they find out she’s Webby, her granny Beakly is housekeeper. She then asks the big questons “Are we friends now?” “If we say yes will you let us live?” “Ha good one new best friend”

She then explains she dosen’t get to leave or anything even eat a hamburger. The boys are moved by this and Louie asks what she does for fun. She leads them to the vents and while Huey and Louie are a bit relcutant, Dewey naturally goes first pointing out it’s better than the marble room. They agree and are on their way.

Okay unpinning that pin, the crew conciously updated Webby and Beakly as neither really had a lot of purpose in the original. It was also to conciously add more actiony females to the main family lineup, as both creators, both being fathers, preferred someone their daughters could look up to and would enjoy watching. Not someone perfect but someone intresting instead of someone who often got Kidnapped and whose main charactrisitcs were “Sweet and GIRL STEROTYPE” So cleverly they KEPT her being girly, having a skirt, liking ponies. .but also gave her all the training and skill of one Cassandra Cain, a sheltered background and an adorable personality that kept the sweetness but added her probably having killed a man at some point. It worked as Webby is one of the best parts of the show.

Likewise Beakly was upgraded from fuddy duddy housekeeper, to badass former secret agent whose also a housekeeper, and bodyguard and confidant to scrooge. Demonstrated by her talk with him as he tries to put on his diving suit and go after the jewel of atlantis, having spotted the signs to go after it in the paper.. and wanting to prove a child wrong. Beakly points out the flaws in this, and tries to get him to connect to his family. Having lost hers, it’s easy to see why.. though the how’s a mystery.. for now i’m guess. We’ll see in the finale. But she’s Scrooge’s concisence and the one who can easiest reign him in, to the point two episodes directly have our heroes have to NOT call her or else the plot was end, but have that worked into the plot so it works. She’s the calm in his storm and hte one person he needs more than anyone else even if he dosen’t always realize it. He calls family “nothing but trouble” just as Dewey passes overhead.

So naturally as Webby shows off Scrooge’s old treasures in a mysterious room, while the other Siblings are rightfully impressed, Dewey dismisses it as “fake” because he’s being a little shit, and they agree after seeing Donald, not knowing his reputation. The cutaway to him struggling with a stapler does not help> it’s only when Webby accidnetly uneleashes Captain Peghook, a vengeful ghost after scrooge, who gets his hand on a ghostly sword do they realize this time the monsters are real. Huey also accidently wakes up Manny, the headless manhorse!

Things somehow get WORSE as Scrooge finds them.. but is in no state to argue and as our heroes duck and Huey tries to divise a plan.. Scrooge get’s his spark back once agian.. it’s starting to become an ember now... and he charges in despite Dewey’s cries of “No come back your old!”. It then gets VERY badass Scrooge: Oi! Beastie! What's it gonna take to shuffle you off to the afterlife? Captain Peg-Hook: The head of Scrooge McDuck! Scrooge: [cracks his neck, flips his cane around to wield like a sword] Would you settle for his hat?

Now that is how you show how badass Scrooge is in a few lines and gestures. HE proceeds to take both out, as they’ve now teamed up, easily, tricking peghook into cutting off the head of a statue of him in the area, throwinng it at him and finsihing the ghosts buisnesss (”I should’ve been more specifiiiicccccc”) and then giving Manny the head, earning him a loyal employee for life. So our days saved, the kids have faith.. and Scrooge is still pissed. He also reveals this isn’t a treasure room but the garage in what’s easily the best gag of the first half, possibly the whole special but one iconic moment is very close in that one. Webby concedes what about the stack of old magazines or the hose or.. okay he’s probably right. He berates them only for the kids to fire back, pointing out he threw them in a room, they just wanted to spend time with him... but it’s only Dewey throwing his words back in his face that pisses him off. Scrooge bellows at them to get out, clearly having internalized everything with donald into rage and trying to justify pushing eveyrone away instead of working at it... but this dosen’t have time to actually work, nor would Beakly actually throw three children out on the curb, as he hits a mystic gong.. the third time it’s been hit. And after realizing it’s already been hit twice Scrooge is faced with Pixu, the gold hutning dragon! And guess who has a giant bin of it wanting to snack on? Scrooge naturally climbs on the thing and the kids naturally want to follow, with Webby getting her first development by proudly announcing “I’m going to eat a hamburger” then explains the metaphor. They just need a pilto.. and as Launchpad has been saying but I forgot to add in “I’m a pilot”

So we get a GORGEOUS bit of Scrooge riding the dragon over the city, getting banged up as he does before finally being thrown off.. only for the kids to catch him with the planes help and try and come up with a plan. Scrooge overcomes his anger at them not staying put, especailly since Webby brings up the right weakness: as a wise man once said...

So they need some.. like say the Medusa Gauntlet Scrooge had in the garage.. that Louie naturally stole. Huey and Webby eyeroll him but they have what they need.. and Huey brought the hose and quickly comes up with a plan, tying scrooge in, and swinging him to Pixu. The kids hold on tight, Dewey calls his family awesome and our heroes win the day as Scrooge turns the dragon to stone, slips and falls.. and then GRACEFULLY dives into hte bin, showing off his diving skills and his badassery. The day is saved, the gauntlet and the dragon go in the bin for safe keeping and Scrooge calls the kids trouble.. and chuckles fondly. “Curse me kilts how i’ve missed trouble”

He’s impressed: Huey’s quick thinking, Louie’s pickpocketing, Dewey’s drive, and Webby’s magical knowledge all saved them. For once. .he’s happy again. And for the second time in life it took his family to remind him why he does this and show him the true fun of adventure: Getting to share it with those he love. And he finally has people to love again. He has family back, kids who look up to him and want to learn from him again, a REASON to adventure. Money and treasure and eveyrthig couldn’t bring della back.. but he at least sees now that whiel they certianly couldn’t.. they can bring him closely with what he has left. She’s gone, for now.. but she left behind three great kids who could use a mentor and Beakly brought him a fourth. And he just found out he has a pilot. The ember.. is now a raging flame. Scrooge is back. Because i’ts not the money or the glory.. it’s the thrill of it, the discovery.. and the family that makes adventuring worth while and he’s learned that lesson again. So he calls Beakly to clear his schedule.. forgetting she you know PUT A FUCKING PIN INTHE WALL the last time he asked her to play scretary and the onlyr eason she dind’t drive over the choke him to death, is that she’s probably happy he’s back on track.

Back at the interview Donald is stapled to the wall and gets the job.. not as an accountant mind but his employer needs a sailor.. and his employer is FLINTHEART GLOMGOLD. Oh boy.

Part 2: Escape To/From Atlantis First the last bit of background I saved: Originally, Fenton and Gyro were supposed to show up here, starting a gag of Fenton showing up but not being named until “Beware the B.U.D.D.Y. System!”, setting up the sub. But the crew decided this took too much away from the focus on the duck family. The not naming him gag was also dropped, and I have two reasons why: Their given reason, which is it’d take up too much time and a logistical reason: While they gave a heartfelt pitch to Lin-Manuel Miranda, as frank wanted a strong Latino superhero to combat the lack of them on film, Frank and Matt probably thought they woudln’t get such a huge name or at least prepared for it.. and were delightfully suprised when Lin happily and tearfully agreed. So they likely scrapped it so they could properly promote the biggest name in their voice cast. Honestly it was for the best and they still go to do the idea with Drake in “The Duck Knight Returns!”, where it worked much better than it probably would have with Fenton.

We open with the Glomgold Industries Employee Training Video! Encourging IP Theft, making things cheaper and general scumbaggery, and claming your the world’s most beloved scottish billionare. IN short the perfect introduction to everyone’s favorite insane, fake-scottish, scheming, egotistical , short sighted billionaire. As i’ve made transparent before, I fucking love the reboot version of Glomgold and he’s easily one of my favorite parts of the reboot. They clearly needded to find a new place for Glomgold in the grand scheme of things as the show was more about globetrotting adventure and family and less about getting contracts or bets about whose bigger money and more about family. While they DID do a classic bet storyline with season 2, it’s clear the old glomgold was just a bit too stiff to properly fit into this new zanier and deeper universe.

So they instead remolded him as a half insane, knockoff scrooge, someone who PURPOSFULLY modeled himself after the guy to try and one up him, and instead of being a fairly low pitched schemer, was a bombastic idiot whose schemes were half baked, whose name was on everything he made, and whose only thing bigger than scrooge was his glorious ego. In short he was perfect for this series and perfect to show up way more often as a bumbling thorn in Scrooge’s side.. but one who COULD be effective in the right circumstances, as to not make him completely pointless. Keith was likewise the only person I could see in the roll now as with Hater he had a history of playing bombastic, egosticial morons, and made Glomgold into the enjoyable ball of ego, bombs, sharks and shouting we know and love. Some people didn’t take to this version after a while... I’m not one of those. I loved him here, I love him now, and he’s every bit as good in season 3 as he was at the start. He’s also wearing a kilt mcduck A KILT. A bit that’st STILL funny four years and 70 some episodes later.

So we meet Gabby McStabberson and the Smashnikovs as they and Donald file in, though Donald is busy wrapping up a call with Scrooge, who assures them he has a low key day planned.. while in the sub getting ready to go to atlantis. And nearly drowning when Dewey tells Launchpad to dive while he and Scrooge are still up top. Cue credits.

So on the sub we get our setup for the two main plots for the episode: While the main thrust of everything is Scrooge taking them to Atlantis, each leads to a diffrent plot. Louie talks to Donald and lies entirely about their day, worrying Webby.. who then reveals she just didn’t tell Beakly she took off or where she was going and encourages her to call and lie. To save time, i’m going to cover this subplot now minus the conclusion as it’s pretty simple and this review is already a day behind. Louie wants her to lie so she dosen’t worry, which is oddly sweet.. still a bit greasy, but it’s clear he means well and it shows in his own way the boy cares about Donald: Sure he’ll lie to the guy, and set up a fradulent charity to scam him.. but he also knows not to worry his dad-uncle and kows Donald is better off thinking their safe than knowing the truth. Granted it also prevents consequences for Louie.. but he’s not playing here here. He gets nothing out of Beakly not knowing the truth or helping some girl he just met, he’s just being NICE in his own twisty way. It’s a nice show of his depths: While louie will lie, cheat and steal Eddie Gurrero style, he does have a caring side underneath hit. He can read people well and while he primarily uses it to manipulate people, we’ll see time and time again that he can use it for good too and to help those he cares about. He’s nothing but supportive the whole plot, and even when he says “you can’t back that up” it’s more worrying about her and having a bit of crack than actually being a dick.

So Webby tries lying, but is about as good as Huey is at it, saying “I’m at a friends house nothing, then makes up a clearly fake name, then says their only talking in swedish for a grandpa. Launchpad DOES help, but only by accident and snake venom. We’ll get to that. As I said this wasn’t the most complex plot.

The main plot is our focus episode for dewey. In theory each of the kids was supposed to have one in the first five episodes: Dewey here, Webby in Daytrip of Doom, Louie in Great Dime Chase and Huey in Impossible Summit of Mt. Nevverest!. Given the last one was horribly delayed, he instead got Terror of the Terra Firmians, which in hindsight wasn’t the best spotlight episode for him. But it’s a good system; Introduce them all in the first half of the pilot then slowly focus on each one. So now Idoloizing Scrooge, Dewey is desperate to be his sidekick and be seen as an equal and is in deep denial as scrooge instead has them all buckle up for a 17 hour ride and when Dewey questions the route, which skips the direct path.. but is clearly marked with monsters, Scrooge just snaps at him and shuts him down and disapoints the boy who only wants to prove himself to Scrooge.

Naturally though, telling someone with that kind of need for attention and validation to wait goes poorly as he redirects the map while Launchapd is distracted.. and we find out WHY the trip is 17 hours as the direct route nearly gets them killed by mer-ducks, krakens and some sort of storm elemental. Dewey is bummed it didn’t work and annoyed to realize he’s just lumping them all together like Huey pointed out earlier. Huey is also delightful here, having brought travel bingo and sea shanties, clearly used to trips with his other uncle. And adorably taking after him.

But Dewey’s deversion has done more than make him even MORE determined to prove himself to Scrooge whose just trying to NOT loose the son of the daughter he lost...

The Merducks have taken up residence in the bathroom, so they have to make a pitstop. Scrooge, CLEARLY forgetting how to take a trip with children, wasn’t prepared for this but they find a frieghter and make a stop. Naturally it’s GLOMGOLD’S freighter, where his sub took off from, and he and his minons including Donald find Scrooge using the bathroom.. and the boys to Donald’s rage. Unfortunately saying ‘I’ll kill him” to a raging sociopath who takes that as a sign to kill ALL of them, isn’t a smart move.

So while Donald tries to plan to keep his family alive, said family arrives in Atlantis with a great bit of Scrooge trying to give a big speech only for them to see it first and ooh and ah. They touch down in the city.. which is flip turned upside down. Scrooge notes hti is odd but is able to read the hieroglypchs even upside downa nd notes there’s tones of deadly traps and that they shoudl stay back and..

Huey: Dewey ran in as soon as you said traps.

So while Scrooge tries to prevent dewey loosing his head, Donald prevents launchpad loosing his and makes up an excuse about “if their dead now we can’t tourture them later” to cover his ass. Glomgold is impressed. Dewey is Dewcipointed that the traps are upside down, though he does trigger some snakes that get launchpad. He’s fine just delirious. And possibly slowly dying but the fact he’s lived this long is a miracle. Maybe that’s why he’s missing for most of season 3 part 2, the snake venom caught up to him and drake and fenton need to find the cure. Anyways the rest of the party stays behind while Scrooge chases after Dewey, who naturally runs ahead AGAIN.

Donald ducks out to use the bathroom, as Dewey tries the old dance through the laser grid routine.. but forgets the part where your supposed to actually avoid it, leaving it to an unseen Donald to stop the fire traps from barbqueing his boy. IT’s a really awesome sequence that shows off Donald’s still got it even if he dosen’t want it. Scrooge naturally works smarter not harder and simply ziplines above like a badass and berates Dewey when he tells him he took “The easy way”

“Why would you want to take the hard way?” The argument that’s been brewing all episode bubbles up and once again both sides have a point: Scrooge rightfully points out Dewey’s being reckless, has no experince and needs to listen to Scrooge and learn something. Dewey claps back that Scrooge isn’t TEACHING them, just teling them to get behind him while he does things instead of trying to actively mentor them. He outright told them he was going to teach them so while Dewey’s been a wee bit overbearing, he’s right in being disappointed that Scrooge instead just wants them to be safe. I see it as his subconscious acting up: He wants and needs the kids along and is right ot keep them safe.. but is too scared to properly mentor them after what happened to Della and is just trying not to loose anybody. His methods have been right, to keep them safe.. he’s just been so determined to save them, he can’t properly TEACH them so he won’t have to forever or explain WHY. And given the First Adventure shows that while protective he did eventually let Della and Donald pull their weight.. but here he lost so much between adventures.. he just can’e bear loosing them. Dewey also rightfully points out he just lumps them together which in any other version wouldn’t be an issue, until the reboot I had no idea which one was which here? They have distinct outfits and personalities and you had 17 hours to actually get to know them. Probably less given the shortcut but still, several hours at a minimum. It’s things like this that make the series work: while there’s plenty of internal conflicts, at their best their nuanced ones, where if one character is clearly in the wrong they have a reason, and if both are right both are also a bit wrong, versus the original where it’d be scrooge or the boys grabbing the asshole ball at times (Not always mind you but when they did it was insufferable.

However they don’t have time to argue as the bridge goes out and Glomgold finds donald.. and another way around as a result and gets to the treasure first. Scrooge notices they have donald but once again Dewey charges in

“Unhand my uncle” “No” “Okay wasn’t prepared for that”

Naturally both sides are a bit livid, Donald for dragging his boys into danger after being part of the reason his sister is on the moon right now, and Scrooge for working with one of his greatest eneimies.. though Scrooge has less ground to stand on because as Donald points out “I can’t keep track of ALL of your sworn enemies” I mean he has lived like .. 200 years. That’s a long enemies list and Glomgold, while the most persistent, isn’t exactly the most dangerous they probably encountered. Given the guy’s an artist with Bombs and Sharks that does say a lot about how badass Scrooge is.. and how incompitent glomgold usually is. He’s just having an on day today I guess.

Glomgold naturally holds Donald hostage, takes what is suppsidley the jewel and leaves them to drown to death, hitting a wall to let it start leaking. HIs minons run into the rest of the heroes and a fight breaks out while naturally Donald, after even more naturally getting his ass stuck in a hole, literally, rails out at Scrooge for doing this telling him “I knew I couldn’t trust you and” “This is the spear of selene all over again”

Scrooge’s only response is “I was not responsible for the Spear of Selene!”

Dude you still paid for the rocket. While Della shoulders most of the blame, SHE choose to take an untested rocket, SHE choose not to come back during the turbulence YOU still built it and hid it from donald and didn’t make sure she couldn’t just take off in it. Your both to blame. And as I mentioned earlier to the least extent but still an extent, so was Donald telling his grown, adult sister whose as stubborn as she is what she could and couldn’t do. He had the right idea and was the only person trying to be an adult here in this situation.. but he still took the wrong approach with stopping her. Still he got far more ground to stand on than Scrooge, who also took his nephews out. Dewey stops both by pointing out that while yes Scrooge took them on an adventure he’s been doing NTOHING but keeping him safe and most of it was his fault which disarms donald a bit. Though Dewey is quickly distracted.. but for once by an obersvation: the gem glowing above thaem that glowed when they entered... and since the city got flipped turned upside down.. THAT’S the real jewel. Dewey asks Donald ot let it flood so they can get it and begs his uncle to trust him despite his doubts which he does. They get it and everyone’s okay and even more when they reunite with the others they find they’ve handily beaten them. To me this is where donalds walls go down a bit: he realizes he’s been smothering the kids, and that while he may hate his uncle for good reason... he’s not going to make the same mistake with them and while he lied.. Don probably realized if Scrooge had been honest Donald would never have let them go. He can trust him.. and he can trust his kids will be alright without him.

So Glomgold naturally leaves his minions to die, but our heroes manage to make it to the sub, and Gabby asks if they can bum a ride. Not wanting to do any murders they agree. On the surface Glomgold is showing off his jewel, only for Scrooge to upstage him second’s later with the real jewel, and point out his is “nice but defintly cursed”... and right on cue Glomgold gets dragged off with an octopus and let’s off his first “Curse you mcduck!”. Scrooge offers clean water and power thorugh it, for a price because of course he does, and has offically made his grand comeback.

We get back to Webby’s subplot, as she’s confronted by Beakly.. who naturally being a former spy easily figured it out immieditely but is only upset her grandaughter lied to her. And even at that she dosen’t raise her voice or anything about the matter, knowing it’d only make her feel worse and getting that her grandaughter needs to see the world and that much like donald, she walled her up to prevent loosing what little she had left. And since being with Scrooge is safe as with her, she can go with him anytime just tell her first kay? They hug. Awwww.

Donald likewise apologizes, admitting that whatever has passed, he misjudged his uncle here and while not forgiving him yet, is at least willing to let him back into his life and into the boys.. on holidays and stuff at least. But fate forces his hand.. or rather his 10 year old nephew-son having left the engine on and neither having turned it off, meaning his boat goes boom and is in no liveable condition. But Scrooge has the space in his heart and mansion for them.

So as we close the kids help move the artifacts all around the house instead of just the garage while Launchapd drops the boat. While clearing out Dewey notices the painting from earlier.. and finds part of it was flipped over...

“Mom?!”

Now keep in mind, while nowadays Della’s inclusion in the show is one of the most famous and treasured parts of the show.. back then this was a fucking shock. Disney never really cared about the boys mother and outside of one comics story never really went into what happened. So the fact she was not only an actual important part of the plot but we’d find out was a HUGE wham moment and left my jaw dropped after seeing the episode. Like I would with the finales I had read no spoilers and had no idea this was coming but damn was it a huge and welcome suprise and how far they’d take it and how much they’d flesh her out was an even bigger one. Easily one of the best big reveals i’ve ever seen. The only better one I can think of from this series itself... is the end of season 2. But that’s for another time.

Final Thoughts on Woo-Ooo!:

This two parter/hour long special.. is still one of the episodes best and easily one of the best pilots. It does slow down a bit in pacing in the second half, but otherwise is just an immaculate , beautiful pilot movie that introduces and fleshes out all 8 main characters, maybe Launchpad the least but enough to still work, gives us some big mysteries to work out, and even throws in Glomgold’s first apperance. It sets the tone, reverent and adventuerous but also with it’s own weird and wacky sense of humor and world building, and universe perfectly. I .. don’t have much else to say really it’s just THAT good and really worth checking out. If you somehow haven’t seen it go watch it and if you haven’t seen it in a while might be worth a rewatch before the finale. The absolutely perfect start to an amazing ride.

Next on the Della Arc: Dewey and Webby try to figure out where Della is while Louie learns a valuable life lesson and pisses off a killer robot along the way.

Next on the Blog: Amphibia Season 2 is back!

Until then if you liked this review follow for more and if you could please support me on patreon. Even a buck a month helps and juicy stretch goals give you na incentive to contirbute. We’re 5 bucks away from 20 dollars a month which means a review of super ducktales and a Darkwing Duck review EVERY. MONTH. So contribute now! Until the next rainbow it’s been a pleasure.

#ducktales #wooooo #woo-ooo #scrooge mcduck #webby vanderquack #donald duck #dewey duck #louie duck #huey duck #bentina beakley #launchpad mcquack #flintheart glomgold #della duck #disney channel #disney xd #disney plus #ducks

21 notes · View notes

acearchivist359 · 4 years ago

Text

Castiel Winchester

I couldn’t get the idea of Cas being asked what his last name was and not having an answer and Dean supplying that his last name is Winchester out of my head so I wrote it. This is entirely gratuitous and self serving but hey why not?

I also posted it on ao3 with a more dramatic title: human and home

Dean and Cas were in the kitchen when Dean got the call. The radio was playing and Dean was making dinner. Though Castiel didn't enjoy food anymore since his grace returned, he loved watching the care with which Dean prepared it, even though he appeared to spend a lot of time distracted by his music. Sometimes Cas would eat the food anyway just to see the proud smile on Dean's face when he assured him that it was good, though Castiel was mostly guessing. The call was from another hunter, someone from one of Sam and Dean's old hunts, inviting them to a different old hunters funeral. Dean, of course, agreed. He felt obligated, having hunted with the deceased a few times back in the day, at least that's what he told Castiel. Besides, he was offered beer, burgers and pie. Castiel had quickly learned that was a surefire way to get Dean to agree to anything. Dean went back to cooking, telling Cas some old hunting stories since they were on his mind. Occasionally Dean would pause to sing along to a few lines of the song before picking back up where he left off. When Sam joined them in the kitchen, he echoed Dean's sentiment of obligation and agreed that they should go. The drive would take around 24 hours, but Dean had never protested an excuse to take his "baby" out for a long drive. Castiel sat with the boys through their dinner, accepting the food and beer Dean offered him without protest. They talked about who they thought would go to the funeral, and filled Cas in on more stories. Castiel wondered what he would do in the Winchester's absence, assuming the invitation extended to the brothers only.

Cas had long since grown used to spending his time with Sam and Dean. He no longer felt the need to spend any time in heaven, especially with it being in disarray, and he hadn't for a long time. Any time Castiel was alone was usually off searching for some thing to stop yet another apocalypse or to help the Winchesters. It was strange for Castiel to be alone in the bunker. The Winchester's presence was a sentient thing. The sound of the boys bickering over lore books, or Dean’s laugh from the kitchen, or the music he played in his room, filled the halls of the old bunker with life. Castiel could feel their presence whenever he was there. The bunker felt hollow when the brothers were gone and all Castiel was left with were the old ghosts of the Men of Letters.

The boy's went off to pack, knowing they'd be staying at least one night in a "crap motel" as Dean called it, and Castiel wandered off in to the library. He scanned through the shelves of books, looking for something to occupy himself with while the boys were gone. He debated picking up an angel book, often finding himself amused by pointing out the inaccuracies. He placed the book back down though when he realized that was only fun when Dean was there to laugh while writing in Castiel's revisions with his messy handwriting. Castiel decided on a book about wendigos, remembering a story Dean told him once where they worked a wendigo case. Castiel settled down at the table to read and wait for the Winchesters to return.

“Dude what are you doing?” Dean asked, peeking his head in through the library door. Castiel had been mentally debating if he thought the wendigo book would last him the whole time the boys were gone or if he should choose another. Maybe he'd watch a show Dean recommended on the Netflix.

“I’m going to read, Dean,” Cas said, opening his book, “I thought you were leaving.”

“Yeah, we're waiting on you,” Dean said, “Let’s go.” He nodded towards the garage, smiling at Cas.

“I wasn’t aware I was invited.” Castiel didn’t look up from his book.

“Dude of course you're invited,” Dean chuckled, coming into the library “Me and Sammy aren’t gonna leave you here by yourself.” He walked over to stand in front of Castiel. “You can be my plus one.” Dean patted Cas’ arm, smiling at him. Castiel, disarmed by Dean's smile, barely noticed Dean taking the book from his hands until he was halfway to the library door.

“Dean,” Cas sighed, “I was reading that.” He was already halfway out of his seat.

“Read it in the car!” Dean called back to him from the hallway, laughing. Castiel sighed, exasperatedly, but followed Dean anyway.

Castiel was glad for the invitation in the end. Sitting in the back seat, listening to the Winchester brothers bicker over the radio was much better than being in the bunker alone. Castiel knew in the back of his mind that his home had never been heaven or the bunker, his home was this. These two boys arguing and laughing, whether in their car or the bunker or some crap motel.

Eventually Sam decided he wanted to sleep, so Castiel traded places with him to sit in the front with Dean. Cas watched Dean out of the corner of his eye while he sang along quietly along with his radio. Every so often Dean would make a comment about one of the songs to Cas, telling him about which band was playing, the songs Mary had loved or John had played often. Castiel listened intently to both Dean and the music, taking in all the details. He enjoyed hearing Dean’s stories, the way his face softened when he spoke of his early childhood. Dean was softer in the car at night than he'd been while cooking dinner. He'd pulled a sweater on over his flannel at some point while driving, he'd left it unzipped but pulled the sleeves down to his hands. Sometimes Dean would look over at Cas and smile softly at him in the glow of the streetlights. Castiel couldn't figure out exactly what that meant.

Cas watched the relaxed way Dean drove in the early golden light of the sunrise. His elbow propped up on the window, the way his body angled slightly towards the inside of the car. He was resting his head on his left hand. He looked tired but content. Sam woke up when the sun had fully risen and their moment was over, but Castiel was quite at piece with listening to the boys bicker again. Every hour or so, Dean would send Cas an amused glance, raising his eyebrows, before he saying something to purposefully rile Sam up again. Castiel would shake his head at him, but it only made Dean more amused.

When they finally arrived at the other hunters house, Dean parked the car and they walked up to the house. There were cars parked in various spots up and down the street, most of them old, some looking rather beat up. Clearly none of them were as well loved as Dean's. Castiel lingered behind Sam and Dean as the hunter opened the door. Castiel could clearly see he was a hunter, given he was wearing the lumberjack style clothes Castiel had come to understand was not just particular to Sam and Dean but all hunters. As Sam greeted the man, Dean glanced back at Cas and saw him standing there with his hands by his sides, looking out of place. Dean rolled his eyes and pulled Cas through the door with him.

"Cas, this is Daniel.” Dean patted Daniel on the shoulder before turning to put his jacket down. “Me and Sam helped him out with a werewolf case… what was it? 6 years ago?”

“Sounds about right?” Daniel said, shrugging. Dean, having put his coat down, did the winking finger gun thing he always did. Cas noticed he did that a lot.

"This is Castiel, our resident angel," Dean gestured to Cas, "the real deal, you know, wings… harp." Castiel glared at Dean but returned Daniel's handshake when he stuck his hand out. Castiel had been around since the beginning of that gesture, but he never did understand what the purpose of it was, only that it was polite.

Sam and Dean, despite their preference for being around only people they considered family, seemed to be largely enjoying the gathering. Castiel hung behind, standing off against the wall behind where Dean was sitting. He felt entirely out of place among all these hunters, despite having been on a great number of hunts with the Winchester brothers over the years. He could tell countless hunting tales but that would never make him one of them. Dean, however, told lots of stories. Sometimes Sam chimed in to correct him when Dean was making himself seem cooler. Dean was laughing merrily and drinking his beer. Every so often he’d prompt Cas for his input on a story, which Castiel would gladly supply him with. Dean would chuckle at Cas' monotone comments and Cas would smile a little.

At one point Dean made another comment about Cas having a harp, which made Cas sigh. “Dean,” he deadpanned, but that only made Dean laugh harder. Castiel sighed again and went off into the kitchen to get himself another beer. Dean's was nearly empty, so it only made sense to get another for him as well. It didn’t do much for him in the way of intoxication as it did for the hunters, but it helped him feel more like he fit in. In the kitchen, there was a woman Cas had yet to meet.

“Hello,” Cas said, clearing his throat. He’d learning in his early days with the Winchesters that people didn’t like being startled when he appeared. The woman turned around to look at him and Cas waved awkwardly.

“Hi,” the woman smiled, “Did you need another beer?” she asked, noticing the bottle in Cas’ hand.

“Uh, yes,” Cas responded before adding, “Please. And one for my friend.”

She handed Cas the two bottles, opening one which Cas assumed was meant for him, but made no move to exit the kitchen so Castiel stayed, leaning against the counter behind him. It was something he'd seen Dean do in the kitchen of the bunker. “You’re new here,” The woman commented, studying Cas with her arms crossed, "I've never seen you before."

Cas nodded, awkwardly. He knew hunters tended to be wary of people that they didn’t know so he supplied, “I'm Castiel.” He took an awkward sip from his bottle, for something to do.

“Sarah,” she returned, "Daniel’s wife." Sarah stuck her hand out to shake, like her husband did. Castiel returned the favour. "Did you know Aiden well?"

Castiel assumed Aiden was the first name of the hunter who had died, Dean had referred to him as something else, so he shook his head, "No." This only made Sarah look at him oddly so he continued with, "My friends spoke of him very highly though. He seemed like an excellent hunter."

“Sorry you said it was Castiel? Just the one name?” Cas nodded, "So do you just like the one name thing? Like Beyoncé?" Castiel didn't think she was insulting him, but he thought there was something off about the way she laughed. He realized belatedly that she must have assumed he was some sort of undercover monster.

"I don't have one, you see-" Castiel started at the same time a voice chimed in with, “It’s Winchester.”

Cas turned to see Dean standing behind him, he hadn't heard him come through the doorway. "Castiel Winchester." He pointed at Cas as he repeated the name. Castiel blinked at him in confusion. Dean walked over and leaned on the counter next to Cas. He looked at Cas and gestured to the unopened bottle in his hand, "That for me?" Castiel held the bottle out to him. Dean caught his eye and smiled, opening his beer. He clinked his bottle against the one in Castiel’s hand before taking a sip. Castiel smiled down at his bottle as Sarah looked back and forth between the two of them. Dean started to make small talk with her.

There was something about the feeling of being included so naturally as part of Sam and Dean's family, that made Castiel feel very warm and content. He liked the proud way Dean had added his last name to Castiel's singular one. He had had one singular name for centuries, in all his time of being an angel he had only ever been Castiel. Then he had met Dean Winchester. When Dean nicknamed him Cas, it was the closest Castiel had ever come to being human. After all that time, the wars he'd fought and won for heaven, all his angelic triumphs, being called a Winchester by the righteous man was the highest honour Castiel had ever received. He very much enjoyed being Castiel Winchester. It made him feel human and home all at once.

“C’mon Cas,” Dean chuckled softly, wrapping an arm around Castiel's shoulder and bringing him with him, “or I’m gonna convince everyone you really have a harp.”

“Dean,” Cas sighed, but it didn't have any irritation to it. Dean laughed loudly as Castiel walked with him out of the kitchen, still smiling to himself.

#ft. the way cas still eats the food dean makes even though he doesn't like the taste of food #I really just tried to put in every super cute destiel scenario i could think of #deancas fluff #deancas fic #destiel fic #destiel fluff #castiel winchester #supernatural #destiel #deancas #castiel #dean winchester #cant believe i went from this fluff fest to the angst i wrote after this....

39 notes · View notes

semperintrepida · 4 years ago

Text

The Sellout, chapter six

six: the not date

Two hours before Kassandra was supposed to meet Kyra downtown, she paced beside the wall of windows in her condo and tried to keep her eyes away from her old nemesis, the clock. This wasn't the unforgiving squeeze of pressure in the final seconds of a basketball game or the relentless climb of lap times at the track. This was time moving at a glacial scale.

She paced, and wondered how many steps it would take to wear a groove into the concrete floor. She paced, and tried not to think of the ways Kyra's presence had filled this room so completely, or how Kyra had stood by this window and sat in that chair. She paced, because if she stopped, her footsteps would fade and she'd have to admit how fucking quiet it was in here.

Her tank top stuck to her skin as she moved, and she realized she was sweating. The room was too hot, but the numbers on the climate control were the same as they'd always been. Her heartbeat was up, her breathing fast and shallow. With some effort, she diverted her steps away from the windows to the wet bar, and when she picked up a glass and a bottle of bourbon, her hands were trembling slightly.

She tipped a healthy pour into the glass, along with an ice cube, and as she lifted the drink, it slipped from her hand and shattered on the granite bar top.

Motherfucker. At least it wasn't from the bottle of antique single barrel.

She dug out a bar towel and a trash bin, and swept the shards and liquid into the bin along with the towel for good measure. She dug out another towel for the floor. On her knees mopping up broken glass and now all her muscles were jittery, not just her hands.

Try again. Another pour — this time it was the antique single barrel to make up for how well her evening had been going so far. Careful now. The bourbon hit her like a caramel bomb, and it sat back and fumed vanilla while the taste of fruit and honey danced on her tongue for several seconds. Nearly 130 proof and it went down smooth as cream.

The drink wrapped around her like a cashmere bathrobe as she savored it and watched the sun's rays slant across the river. After a while, her muscles were steady again, but her heart was still a whirring motor forced to idle on the dragstrip, waiting for that green light to go.

She carried her drink with her into her bedroom, threw open the doors to her closet, and surveyed her wardrobe. Time to do battle with Portland's sartorial lawlessness.

Individuality ruled this place, and nothing was ever cool if anyone else did it too. It was the opposite of L.A., which never met a trend it didn't want to chase. Portland was reflexively anti-trend, and even those with money had changed their ways to compensate, trying to downplay their net worths through their choice of clothes.

In this town, the penalty for overdressing wasn't embarrassment — it was distrust.

Kyra had that antiauthoritarian streak too. Kassandra had never met someone so repulsed by her money. Most were the opposite, wanting to get real close to her real fast. She'd learned early on that people were best kept at arm's length.

She was eight years old the first time her mother spoke to her directly about money, old enough to understand that a private boarding school in upstate New York was not how most kids grew up. Most kids saw their parents more often than birthdays and Christmas — even her classmates, most of whom belonged to the Northeastern elites. She'd been a bargaining chip in a divorce between an American father and a Greek mother, and New York was where she'd landed in the settlement. She never saw her father, even though he lived in New York City and was the one paying her tuition. He was too busy becoming a billionaire. Her mother lived in London then, working as a diplomatic attaché in the Greek embassy. Kassandra had quickly learned not to miss either of them. On rare occasions, her mother would fly in for a few days to visit her. They'd spend most of their time together in awkward silence, or muddling through stilted conversations like near-strangers. In one of them, she'd complained about a schoolmate, one of the day-goers who lived in the town nearby, who kept asking her for things, like pens, or notebooks, or erasers; who'd treat her sweetly as long as she handed them over but cruelly whenever she refused. Her mother had looked at her with her opaque diplomat's gaze and said, You are a child of two families of wealth and power, Kassandra. Some recognize the resources you have, and want it only for themselves. They will try to take it from you. And Kassandra had nodded as if she understood.

Pens and notebooks became pocket money became real money soon enough. She didn't truly understand her mother's warning until she arrived at Stanford, but by then she'd learned there were benefits to having all those resources, too.

She could have damn near any woman she wanted, and she did, quite often. And when she was done, she put them back where she'd found them. She had no idea how big her cumulative hotel bill was from all those indulgences around the world, but it was probably enough to buy another home to go with the apartment in New York City, the flats in London and Athens, the house in Seattle, and the condo in San Francisco.

She sipped her bourbon and ran her hand along her collection of bespoke suits. Then she heard her mother's voice again, from some other memory in their distant past. The way we present ourselves to the world is a message, and a single glance will tell a stranger your taste, your means, and your confidence.

Odd, all these thoughts about her mother. She was back in Athens now, the Cabinet Minister of Economy and Development in the new government. Kassandra hadn't seen her in years. But she'd been right about the message a wardrobe could send, and as Kassandra pulled hangers off the rack, she wondered what message Kyra might be composing.

She set her drink aside and pulled on a pair of sand-colored trousers cut from fine English twill, a lightweight denim shirt in a medium wash, and a linen sport jacket the golden brown of a Cuban cigar. Would Kyra wear a flannel shirt to a fundraising gala? She'd probably get away with it if she did. Maybe she'd wear the lumberjack one and lean full tilt into Portland's "Stumptown" persona.

Kassandra frowned as she adjusted her collar in the mirror. A tie would be too formal for this audience, but to go without was unappealing. She browsed her drawers of neckties and accessories until she found a navy blue neckerchief and a matching pocket square. Perfect.

She imagined Kyra the lumberjack smirking into her own mirror at home. Hell, maybe she already had someone there to show off for, someone to ask, How do I look?

Then Kassandra fought back a sigh and lifted her wrist to unbuckle her watch, and in her bedroom's cavernous silence, she could hear the watch's mechanical movement tick-tick-ticking away.

.oOo.

Five minutes past seven o'clock, she was strolling up Alder Street in search of the right address when she heard a "Hey!" from a passing car, and looked over just in time to see Kyra emerge from the back seat of a taxi.

She'd guessed wrong. Kyra had left the flannel at home. Instead, she wore black on black on black: a long-sleeve button-down tucked into tight jeans cuffed at mid-calf over combat boots. She wasn't here to be charming; she was here to kick ass.

Kyra raked her with a glance. "You look... nice," she said, and it was hard to tell what flavor of nice she really meant.

Style lived and died by details, and Kassandra could take in all of Kyra's details now that she was standing up close. Kyra's shirt was fine linen, embroidered with small dots of charcoal grey thread in a pattern reminiscent of Dotted Swiss fabric. It gave the shirt texture and interest. Kassandra had never seen her without mascara and eyeliner on, but now she'd added red lipstick, a dash of color mirrored at the cuffs of her jeans, where the rolled fabric revealed red stitching.

And she'd pulled her hair up into an artfully messy bun, exposing the lines of her neck along with a silver necklace and circular pendant. All together, it was a bold, confident variation of what Kassandra was learning was her signature style. The only thing missing was her tattoos, hidden under long sleeves.

Kassandra swallowed into a suddenly dry mouth. "So do you." She meant it.

The smallest hint of color crept into Kyra's cheeks. "So," she said before the pause grew awkward. "Who am I supposed to be tonight? A friend, or..."

"A friend would be fine." More than that would be dangerous for Kassandra. She'd have to be satisfied seeing Kyra struggle to hide how much she despised her.

Kassandra gestured towards the massive wooden door behind them. "Shall we?" A carved wooden sign was affixed to the wall beside the door that read, Multnomah Whiskey Library, Members Only.

She pulled the door open and let Kyra pass through first.

"So this is the infamous Whiskey Library," Kyra said once inside.

"Ever been here before?"

Kyra snorted. "Fuck no. I'm not paying for the privilege of paying for drinks I could easily make at home." She peered into a glass display case as she passed. "Okay maybe I don't have any twelve hundred dollar bottles of bourbon. But I could make you a damn good cocktail, so good you wouldn't even miss it."

I could make you a damn good cocktail. "Would you?"

"Would I what?"

"Make me a cocktail sometime."

She shrugged. "Maybe. You're a decent tipper. That's earned you some points."

"You'd actually make me pay for it?"

"We're not friends yet," she said breezily. "And I don't work for free."

The doorway to the greatroom beckoned. Kassandra leaned close to Kyra and whispered in her ear. "We're supposed to be. Tonight." Close enough to catch Kyra's scent: a faint hint of coffee, and the spice of some aromatic wood. Cedar maybe, ancient and heady, wafting from the sun-warmed deck of a Kyprian trireme as it cleaved the clear blue waves of the Aegean...

The pleasant image dissipated when Kyra came to an abrupt halt just inside the greatroom. She craned her neck, taking in the sight of heavy oak beams and crystal chandeliers hanging high over brick walls paneled with mahogany. The entire back of the room was dominated by the bar, an imposing structure made of even more mahogany, crowned by shelves packed with bottles. The bartenders wore waistcoats and ties with their shirts, and used an antique library ladder to reach the bottles on the upper tiers.

"I hope you aren't expecting me to hop over that bar to fix you something right now."

Kassandra laughed. "No. However, I am expecting you to have a nice time." And to have a chat with her target. If her hunch proved true, he'd find Kyra very intriguing indeed.

"I'll drink to that," Kyra said drily.

The room was filling up. They moved through the throng, pausing here and there as Kassandra greeted those she knew, until they reached the bar.

Kyra wandered off to order, while Kassandra recognized a man standing nearby as one of the Multnomah County commissioners.

"Chuck Meeran?" She offered her hand. "Kassandra Agiadis. So wonderful to finally meet you."

His handshake was as carefully modulated as any politicians' and he had to tilt his head up to look in her eyes. She could see the wheels turning as he tried to place her name, then the slight widening of recognition. "Ms. Agiadis. It's a pleasure." Only a fractional stumble over the unfamiliar pronunciation of her name. Not bad. He flashed her a friendly smile. "I take it you're not here on coffee business?"

She smiled to match his own. "I'm just a civilian tonight," she said. She glanced at the drink in his hand and pulled on an air of confused helplessness. "I've never been here before, is there a drink you'd recommend?" Men never relaxed around her until they felt themselves superior in some way. Sometimes it paid to speed the process along.

"First time at the Library, really?"

She leaned closer and whispered, "Don't tell anyone, but I just moved here from Seattle." A wink and a smile. Maybe a donation to his re-election campaign later. Greasing the wheels, for the day when one of her companies needed a zoning change, or a variance.

"Ahh yes. As a Timbers fan, I'll try not to hold it against you," he said generously. "Now let's see, if you like a lot of rye..."

She half-listened as he incorrected himself, while sneaking glances up the bar at Kyra, who was leaning conspiratorially in conversation with one of the bartenders — a stocky woman, tidy in her wool waistcoat and polka-dot pocket square. Kassandra felt her eyes narrow, and only after some effort did she manage to wrangle her face back to neutral as the Commissioner blathered on.

It took a few minutes, but Kassandra extracted herself from the conversation with a promise to schedule lunch "very soon" and a glass of some unremarkable bourbon in her hand.

Kyra and the bartender were chuckling over some shared joke. "Seriously," she said, rolling her eyes as the bartender chuckled some more and moved away to take another order.

Kyra leaned back against the bar as Kassandra approached. "Jesus, you weren't kidding about all the Patagucci vests."

"It's a thing," Kassandra said. Even trend-hating Portland wasn't immune to the plague of finance and tech bros who'd decided that fleece vests were the pinnacle of style. "I don't understand it myself."

The area around the bar was starting to get crowded. Kyra pushed herself away from it to let a laughing couple move past. She sipped her drink and studied the assembled guests. "Why am I here tonight, Kassandra?"

Kassandra led her to a slightly more quiet corner of the room. "I want you to meet someone."

"Are they here yet?"

Was she that anxious to leave already? Kassandra hoped not, because her target seemed to be missing. She scanned the crowd again just to be sure, using her height to full advantage. No sign of him. "No, not yet."

Kyra's gaze settled upon her. "I bet you go to shit like this all the time."

"More than I'd like to."

After that, silence. Maybe Kyra had run out of things to say, because supposed to be friends wasn't at all like they actually were.

Closed or open. Those were Kassandra's options. Stay closed, and stand in awkward silence or chat about small, safe subjects. Or she could open up, reveal a little of herself and hope that Kyra might follow. "I spend hours and hours a day talking to people. Sometimes I just want to sit with a book and a glass of bourbon."

Kyra nodded. "I get that. Sometimes it's like... if I have to listen to one more story about someone's day, I'm gonna go mad. Maybe I'd like someone to ask me about my day for once."

"People want a side of therapy with their latte."

"All for four bucks," she said. "But don't get me wrong. Customer service is my gig, and I like it well enough, it's just..."

"Too much of anything will kill you," Kassandra said agreeably.

Kyra eyed her over the edge of her glass. "What about you? If you didn't have to be here, what hot book would you be on a date with?"

To Kassandra's surprise, Kyra's voice held none of her usual mocking tone. She thought of the half-finished translation of Sappho she'd been working on. Kyra would probably roll her eyes and think it horrifically pretentious.

Kyra made Kassandra want to edit herself to impress her. "I've... been reading a lot of poetry lately." A bad answer, but it would give her time to wrack her brain for a good one.

"Oh? Like what?"

A commotion at the front of the room saved her. She looked up, saw a man posing dramatically within the frame of the greatroom's doorway, and smiled.

He strolled into the room: blonde and beautiful as a Greek god. He wasn't Aphrodite emerging from the waves, but a man named Alkibiades, known more for his wit and insatiable appetite for hedonism than his generosity. And if Kassandra was going to win this evening, she'd need to convince him to change his ways, if only for a little while.

Kyra's attention followed Kassandra's lead, and her eyes widened as she caught sight of him. "You want me to talk to Alki Henriksen? Climbing Magazine coverboy Alki Henriksen?"

Kassandra grinned. "Yeah."

"What am I supposed to do, just walk up to him and chat him up?"

"Of course not. I'll make an introduction." Or she would, if she knew Kyra's last name. God damn it. How had she overlooked that important detail?

"You know him?" Kyra was saying, between incredulous head shakes. "Of course you do."

She'd never seen Kyra this... flustered. It was delightful. "Don't tell me you're nervous."

"I'm not nervous," she said a little too quickly. She knocked back the rest of her drink and handed the empty glass to a passing waiter. "Well, what's the plan?"

First, the matter of Kyra's name. "Do you have a business card?"

Kyra shot her a suspicious look, but didn't argue, just reached into her back pocket and pulled out a stack of cards, sliding one off the top and handing it over.

Cliffhanger Coffee Kyra Delianos, Proprietor

No way. Kyra was a fellow Greek. Kassandra's mind flooded with questions. Did she speak Greek? How did she end up in Portland of all places? But now wasn't the time to ask. She shoved her curiosity into her pocket along with the card.

One last thing. She reached for Kyra's wrist, but stopped before making contact. "May I?"

"Okay..." Kyra's brows wrinkled. "Wait, why?" she asked, but she didn't pull away when Kassandra gently lifted her arm and began rolling up her shirtsleeve.

"You have more credibility than anyone else in this room. You own a business here, but you're also a part of this community," Kassandra said as she folded the fabric, her heart jumping every time her fingers brushed Kyra's skin. "And you very clearly don't look like someone who lives in Lake Oswego or West Linn." Stepford, cookie-cutter suburbs, filled with what passed for the wealthy in this part of the country. "It's worth emphasizing that you're a patron and constituent. To this particular audience, that carries weight." She finished the cuff, then moved on to the second sleeve.

Kyra looked skeptical but didn't say anything, just dropped her eyes to watch Kassandra's hands work the fabric of her shirt.

Kassandra smoothed the cuff just above Kyra's elbow, then ran a fingertip down the delicately shaded lines of the tattoo she'd revealed. "Besides, I think they're beautiful." And with that, she turned and stepped into the crowd.

Time to go fishing.

She cast her line easily enough, edging through the crowd that had gathered around Alkibiades and hooking him with a simple, "Walk with me?" They weren't exactly friends, but their history was such that it was enough to get him to join her without question.

Kyra, to her credit, hadn't moved from where Kassandra had left her, and she greeted their arrival with a casual ease. No sign of the nervous fluster of before.

"Now Alki," Kassandra said. "I know you get so bored talking to the same stale people at these things, and you know I can't tell a cam from a carabiner, so I brought you someone who does." She turned her gaze to Kyra. "Kyra, this is Alkibiades Henriksen. Alki, this is Kyra Delianos."

They shook hands. "Alki's short for Alkibiades?" she asked.

He grinned. "My mother had a flair for the dramatic."

"Kyra owns a coffee shop here in town," Kassandra said. "Cliffhanger, off of Belmont."

"Cliffhanger, you say? I like you already."

Kyra's eyes flicked over her and back. "I'm so glad Kassandra introduced us, because I owe you a thank you."

"Oh?"

"One of your ropes saved my life once."

Kassandra had chosen wisely. Kyra knew how to work a conversation, balancing her compliments with questions to get him to talk about himself and his company, and soon enough they were discussing things like the hand feel of synthetic fibers and dynamic versus static elongation and Kassandra took that as her cue to step back and get out of the way.

A tall, trim man in a sport jacket wandered past her elbow. "Merritt!" she said with a smile as she joined him. He owned the top tier men's and women's teams in this soccer-obsessed city. "How nice to see you. And how are your Timbers and Thorns..."

.oOo.

For the next half hour, Kassandra worked the room with a smile, a firm handshake, and a stack of business cards. She spoke with a tipsy neurologist from OHSU; a partner at some law firm with a comically long name she'd already forgotten; and a creative director at Wieden+Kennedy, who was all too happy to tell her how they'd picked the locations to animate in this year's anime-inspired advert for the Oregon tourism board.

Alki caught up to her as she finished her circuit of the room. "Kassandra! I really must thank you."

"For?"

"That introduction." He nodded over the crowd towards Kyra, who was off in a corner chatting with a few other guests. "She's exquisite. Like a wild tigress. Is she yours?"

"No. And she'd better not hear you say that or you'll end up wearing your balls for a necklace."

"So not yet."

"She can barely stand to be in the same room with me." What the fuck was she doing, letting that slip? There was something about him that disarmed her in the most inconvenient times.

His face lit up. "She's fair game, then?"

Careful, Kassandra. She smiled at him while taking a slow and measured breath through her nose. "You'd have to ask her."

He dropped his mouth open and pressed his hand against his chest. "Tamping down your anger on my behalf? Are you trying to turn me on?" Then he laughed. "I never thought I'd see the mighty Kassandra sell herself short. Your tigress only has eyes for you, darling."

Kassandra found herself meeting Kyra's gaze across the room, but before she could nod, or smile, or do anything at all, Kyra looked away abruptly.

"I know carnal interest when I see it," he said sagely.

"It'll never happen."

"Why not? Did you kick her puppy or something? No, don't give me that look. I know you're no puppy kicker. Stealing her puppy for yourself would be more your style."

She ignored him. "Have you forgotten who I work for?"

His eyes widened as he connected the dots. "Oh dear, that is awkward." He paused, considering. "But look at you, still trying anyway. I admire your persistence in the face of adversity."

"You're speaking to me like you know me well."

"Oh, but it's true. Like recognizing like. It's what we do, you and I: float high above it all to keep everyone from coming too close. But sometimes one of those pesky mortals becomes too captivating to resist." He lifted a brow over clear grey eyes and fine, androgynous features. "Is she worth coming down from Olympus for?"

She found herself gritting her teeth. "You don't know a fucking thing about me."

"Come now, Kassandra. All this sexual tension's making you mean."

To hell with him and his money. She was this close to writing off the bet she'd made and telling him something she'd regret. But then she'd be wasting all of Kyra's efforts, and setting back the Library's fundraising as well. She took a breath, then laughed a laugh that said Let's change the subject. "We've been talking far too much about me," she said. "So, what magazine cover did you land this quarter?"

He was all too happy to tell her about his latest climbing adventure, to Peru this time, and then the conversation shifted as it always did to his ambitions for Vertus, the climbing gear company he'd founded.

"Then Kyra flat-out told me that Vertus had no reputation other than making 'bombproof' gear."

That did sound Kyra-esque.

"And then she said if I wanted to be Yvon Chouinard, I'd have to start acting like him."

Yvon Chouinard, the founder of Patagonia, Inc., known for his activism and philanthropic efforts. "She's got a point, and she's not shy about stabbing people with it."

"Is she that candid with you?" he asked, smiling as Kassandra nodded. "Oh to have a front row seat in the theatre when that happens." He paused in thought. "Well. Between the two of you, I've had a wonderfully enlightening time this evening. But I'm sure you invited me here for a reason, Kassandra."

Her smile was small and knowing and there was no need for her to say more.

"I'd love to see my name at the top of the generosity leaderboard tonight," he said. "How many digits do you think it would take?"

"Six."

"For you darling, my wallet's wide, wide open."

.oOo.

A short while later, Kassandra was camped near the bar with a well-deserved victory drink in hand. No way she was losing this bet now. She couldn't wait to see the look on—

"So that was Alki Henriksen."

Kassandra turned and found Kyra walking up to join her. "It sure was."

"Did you get what you wanted?" she asked. "Scratch that, I can already tell. You're just reeking of smug satisfaction."

"Couldn't have done it without you."

"You're welcome." There was humor in her voice. "He said the two of you met at a Blazers game."

"We did, yeah."

"He also said you used to play, once." She gave Kassandra an appraising look. "Were you any good?"

Kassandra shrugged, her edges still raw from her earlier conversation with him. "I was all right."

A voice spoke from behind her. "'All right'? She was the best player in the country three years in a row."

Kassandra turned with a grin. "Hello, Roxana."

They embraced, briefly, as Kyra watched them with thinly-veiled curiosity. Roxana squeezed Kassandra's hands and stepped back to study her. "'course I'll never fucking forgive you for knocking us out of the Final Four."

Stanford versus Cal, that never-ending Bay Area rivalry. They'd split their regular season games that year and traded spots in the rankings back and forth until tournament time, and then everything came down to one game, win or go home, Stanford down one point and only two seconds left on the clock...

"You were guarding me so close it took a fucking circus shot to win that game," Kassandra said.

"Only you would have taken that shot — and only you could have made it."

They grinned at each other until Kassandra remembered her manners. "Roxana, this is Kyra. Kyra, Roxana." The two of them shook hands like two leopards meeting: an instant sizing up of the other, shoulders pulling back, spines straightening.

"Nice to meet you," Kyra said.

"The pleasure's mine." Roxana shifted her gaze between Kyra and Kassandra and smiled apologetically. "I'm sorry I interrupted you two, but this was my first chance to say hello all evening."

"It's been what, five years since we've seen each other?"

"Near enough."

"How are the kids?"

"Kiana's on a good travel team and thinks she's going to play for Stanford. I don't know if I'm going to survive wearing your colors for four years."

"She's got plenty of time to change her mind."

Kyra lifted her empty glass. "Excuse me a moment," she said.

She cut through the crowd with a feline grace. Kassandra turned back to Roxana to find her smiling curiously. "A friend of yours?"

"Something like that."

"I'm not sure what I think of this new humble, evasive you."

Damn, it was good to see her. She'd always been beautiful, and over the years, she'd found contentment in a balance of family and career that had only deepened her beauty. Roxana wasn't the one who got away, but a vision of what might have been.

What might have been, if they'd been able to make a long-distance relationship work while Roxana was playing ball in Russia and trying to catch on to a WNBA roster. What might have been, if Kassandra had never gotten into the back of that towncar with her father, not knowing that she was about to be driven straight into a car wreck that would tear her and her life to shreds.

Roxana had tried — she'd tried harder than anyone else — but when Kassandra finally got out of the hospital, she was too far gone, too into her anger, too busy pushing everyone away while she tried to figure out what the hell she was going to do with her life now that basketball had been canceled from her equation.

"It's good to see you," she told Roxana. "And I'm going to win our bet, just so you know."

"Now there's the Kassandra I know and love."

"Nike still running you ragged?"

"I flew in from Boston last night. We're going all in with Eliud — if anyone's going to run a sub-two-hour marathon, it's going to be him."

"I can't think of anyone better to lead that charge," she said, smiling as Roxana wrestled with the compliment. "So what have I missed in five years?" she asked, but as she listened to Roxana tell her of what might have been, her eyes kept drifting to the crowd, looking for Kyra and the possibility of what might be.

.oOo.

It wasn't until the fundraiser was winding down that Kyra found her at the bar.

She'd left Kyra alone to mingle without distraction, and every time she'd caught a glimpse of Kyra in the crowd, she'd been deep in conversation with someone new. Good. Let her build that network.

"They're saying Alki pledged half a million tonight," she said without preamble. "No one else came close."

Kassandra smiled into the last of her drink and finished it off. "Mmmhmm."

"That's a lot of money," she said. Then she gave Kassandra a sideways glance and added, "Not for you, I'm sure, but..."

Any answer from Kassandra's mouth would be wrong. That topic had too many dangerous currents, was too perilous to their friendly façade. "Did you have a nice time tonight, at least?" Safer waters.

"I'm still here, aren't I?" Nearly ten o'clock. She'd overstayed her deadline by an hour.

"But not for long."

That confused her, but then she followed Kassandra's eyes to the area behind bar, where the bartenders were moving racks of glassware and wiping down the bartop, cleaning up after the fundraiser and getting ready to reopen for the bar's private clientele.

They got the hint, and headed for the exit.

"This carriage is about to turn back into a pumpkin. Or a speakeasy," Kyra said. Then she gave herself a self-deprecating snort. "That was a terrible metaphor. It's not even close to midnight."

On the sidewalk outside, they stopped and looked at each other, both trying to figure out something to say.

Kyra beat her to it. "I did have a really nice time," she said, and there was an ember of warmth to her that hadn't been there before.

Kassandra wanted more of it. "Would you like to grab a—"

"Kassandra! You weren't going to leave without gloating over your victory, were you?"

Fuck. She turned to Roxana in time to be enveloped in a bear hug. "Actually, I was—"

"Alki Henriksen opening his wallet. Unbelievable. I thought I had you beat for sure after I got Tim and Merritt to sign on."

At the edge of her vision, she could see Kyra's features freeze over. Fuckfuckfuck.

Roxana smiled at her fondly. "You should join me on the Library board, you know. We could use you."

It took Kassandra a moment to regain her wits. "I'll think about it."

"Don't think too long to say yes." She checked her phone. "There's my Uber, I've got to run. Lunch sometime? Soon."

"Yes, for sure."

Then Roxana disappeared into the back of her ride. She'd left Kassandra on the sidewalk and taken all the air on the street with her.

Kassandra turned slowly. "Kyra, I—"

"You used me."

"To raise more money than I could have on my own."

"So you could win a bet. That's all this was to you. Another chance for you to lift some trophy in your own mind," she said, her voice as sharp as a blade. Then she turned on her heel and stalked off.

"Where are you going?"

She didn't stop, didn't turn around. "On a walk."

"At this time of night?"

She ignored the question, putting more and more distance between them.

"Fuck," Kassandra muttered, then hurried in pursuit, falling into step beside Kyra, close enough to be caught in the splash zone of Kyra's seething anger.

Kyra kept her eyes straight ahead. "What are you doing?"

"Walking with you."

"I didn't ask you to."

"I don't care," Kassandra said. "You want to go somewhere? I'll see you there safely. You want to walk around, aimlessly? We'll walk around, aim—"

Kyra took two quick steps and pulled ahead, then whirled around and stopped square in Kassandra's path, somehow filling the entire sidewalk with her immovable presence. "Stop it," she said, raising both hands in front of her. "Just... stop." Her eyes searched Kassandra's face. "Why won't you leave me alone?"

Sudden pain was something Kassandra knew. A lowered shoulder bashing into her chest hard enough to crack ribs. A highside flinging her from her dirtbike onto the rocks. And now she had another entry for the list: a few simple words in the shape of a question. "If that's what you want, say it, and you won't see me again."

Kyra stared at her, and Kassandra felt herself standing up straighter, her spine and ribs tightening as if pulled by a great winch; her body closing the gates and readying the defenses.

Then Kyra laughed, the sound as thin and brittle as the shards from a broken window, and just as dangerously sharp. "I want a fucking drink."

She walked away, and Kassandra followed helplessly after her. One block up, another block over, and then Kyra headed straight for a hole in the wall with the discouraging name of "Scooter McQuades" printed on a boxy sign that flickered fluorescently into the night.

If the Oxford English Dictionary had an entry for "dive bar," it couldn't do any better than a description of this place: a dimly lit snapshot of the early nineties, where the music was abrasive and loud, and decades of grime stained the walls.

The woman behind the bar looked over at them and smiled. "Kyra! I'll be damned."

It was interesting, how quickly Kyra could relax in the right circumstances. Like a light switch flipping.

"Ann! I didn't think you'd be working tonight." She smiled apologetically. "It's been too long, I know."

"You're busy. I'm busy. It's all good." The bartender was older, maybe in her fifties, dark hair streaked with grey and faded tattoos on her forearms. Cotton-candy pinks and blues. But her movements behind the bar were as clean and purposeful as a scalpel and her eyes were lively with humor. She quirked an eyebrow just long enough to give Kassandra an appraising gaze, then turned back to Kyra.

"What are ya hankerin' for, love?"

"PBR and tots."

Then it was Kassandra's turn. "What'll it be for you?"

Kyra interrupted before she could open her mouth. "She'll have a PBR, too."

"How do you like them tots?"

"Cajun."

"Won't take but a minute, I promise." She dismissed them with a wave of her hand. "Well, don't just stand there, have a seat, both of you. Booth, bar, pick your poison."

Kyra chose a booth near the windows. The cracked vinyl seats had once been emerald green, but time had faded them to a dull moss, and someone had patched the worst of the wear with strips of black tape. At least the top of the table seemed clean.

Kyra leaned back against the vinyl and stared at her.

Kassandra had been grilled by hostile lawyers in the courtroom and shouted at by C-level blowhards in the boardroom, but nothing compared to the withering scrutiny she was getting in this dive bar — and Kyra hadn't even said a fucking word.

The drinks came, along with a steaming basket of tater tots, and in moments the booth smelled of beer and fried potatoes. Kyra tossed a soggy cardboard coaster emblazoned with "Kilkenny" in front of her, then placed a pint of PBR upon it.

"Drink it."

She did. It was better than she thought. Better than she remembered, during those beer-soaked college days when she played hard and partied harder, a different sorority girl in her bed every night.

Kyra sipped her own beer and nodded at the bottles of Jameson lined up at the end of the bar. "I want that bottle of whiskey. But I know I shouldn't have it." She popped a tater tot into her mouth, chewed thoughtfully. Reached across the table for the bottle of ketchup. Shook it forcefully and tapped out a puddle onto a paper-lined corner of the basket.

Kassandra couldn't remember the last time she'd had a tater tot. College, maybe? She picked one out and ate it. Spicy heat. Paprika and cayenne and plenty of MSG, probably, the flavors floating on a raft of grease and fluffy potato. It was good, and as comforting as a warm blanket.

She glanced at the ketchup bottle. Not Heinz, something local. Organic, artisanal ketchup in a dive bar, reminding her that she was still in Portland after all.

Ann bustled by with a tray full of pints destined for another table.

Kyra nodded in her direction. "She's owned this place something like twenty-five years," she said. "That's what I want. I want my shop to last." She pushed the corner of her beer coaster with a fingertip. "But I don't think that's going to happen."

She moved her finger in a slow arc, spinning the coaster. Her glass spun with it, leaving a wet trail behind on the tabletop.

"I don't have a safety net, Kassandra. I don't have any family left, and my money's tied up in my shop. If I fuck up, it's all on me." Her hand stilled. "And I think about that every single time I have to make a decision about the shop or about money. It's always there in the back of my mind. Always."

She pushed the coaster hard enough for the beer in the glass to slosh from side to side.

"I'm not telling you this because I want your pity. I chose this business. It's just... I have a lot to lose, but my everything wouldn't even be a blip on your radar."

"I understand."

Her smile was patient. "No you don't, but that's okay."

She tipped a tater tot into the pool of ketchup. Fished it out. Ate it.

"My lease is up this fall, and judging by that look on your face, you know exactly what that means for me. I'll get to play the negotiation game with my landlord, trying to get to a place where the rent increase won't crush me."

Kassandra thought of the shiny new furniture store next door to the coffee shop. The deck was stacked against Kyra; all that outside money pouring into the neighborhood was there for one purpose: to raise rents.

"So I'm still thinking about your offer, because I'd be a fool not to."

"There's no universe in which I'd ever mistake you for a fool."

Silence, then. Maybe she'd killed the conversation. Maybe Kyra just wanted to sit in peace and drink her beer and eat some tater tots, and forget for a moment that she was the only one holding up the weight of her world.

The world revolved around money. Kassandra saw the windows of the coffee shop going dark, the bar and chairs and tables vanishing, a FOR LEASE sign pasted up against the glass. Outside money. Kyra's problem was the kind of problem she could solve.

One tater tot left. Kyra's brow arched in silent question, and Kassandra shook her head in a take it motion.

Kassandra finished her beer, and watched the remnants of foam slide down the walls of the glass. After a while, she cleared her throat, looked at Kyra, and said, "So, how was your day?"

Kyra blinked, but then a slow smile spread across her lips. "It was interesting," she said. "I had the day off, so I climbed all morning and spent the afternoon figuring out what the hell I was going to wear tonight." Then she laughed, more from disbelief than humor. "And then I go to this fundraiser with no idea what to expect, and end up talking to Alki fucking Henriksen, the god of climbing. He wants to meet about doing a collab with my shop. I never would have dreamed of that being a possibility. Never. Though I'm sure he's just trying to get in my pants."

"He wants both. Business and pleasure." Like recognizing like.

"It's tempting; he is a beautiful man."

They'd make a striking couple. The thought of it was vertiginous. She kept her face blank and her mouth shut as she studied the worn formica next to her glass.

"But I already have enough of a distraction on my plate."

Kassandra nodded. "I know." Everything kept circling back to the same place.

Silence for several seconds, then Kyra spoke again. "I wish our circumstances were different."

That made Kassandra look up. "So do I."

"Do you? Would you even notice me if I was some rando on the street, I wonder." Then she waved one hand dismissively while tipping back her head to drain her beer with the other. The glass hit the table with a bang, and she slid it aside. "No, don't answer that. I've got to open the shop early tomorrow."

Kassandra grabbed the check before Kyra's glass came to a stop. She dropped cash on the table, then picked up the pen and receipt and wrote her number at the bottom.

"What's this?" Kyra said as Kassandra pushed it in front of her.

"My phone number, if you ever need it. Or if your opinion about our circumstances ever changes."

For a moment, she thought Kyra might not take it. But Kyra did, her fingers gracefully folding the paper before slipping it into her front pocket. And then they were standing, and Kyra was saying goodbye to Ann, and they were walking outside to stand face-to-face on the sidewalk. Déjà vu.

They stared at each other.

In the backwash of fluorescent light, Kyra's eyes were sheened with black opal. "I was kinda hoping I'd have a horrible time tonight," she said, and she reached out and tucked a stray lock of Kassandra's hair back behind her ear, and then her fingers drifted down to the lapel of Kassandra's jacket, and over to the knot on Kassandra's neckerchief, and she gave it a gentle tug, and smoothed its tails so they hung neatly. "I really was."

She stepped back, and her eyes said something in a language Kassandra hadn't yet learned how to read.

"Will you text me?" Kassandra asked.

"I don't know." Her gaze moved past Kassandra's shoulder. "Oh, I want that taxi."

Three long strides and Kassandra was in the street, flagging it down, opening the door.

"Thanks for coming with me tonight," she said as Kyra settled into the back seat.

"Wait, how are you getting home?"

"Walking. It's not far." Then she closed the door, flashed a smirk and a wave as Kyra rolled her eyes and the taxi pulled away.

Chapter six of The Sellout.

#kyssandra #kassandra #ac odyssey #coffee shop au #okay so this is like the longest thing ever #but it also needed to be #god this fic is such an indulgence lol #i had a ridiculous amount of fun writing this #the sellout

26 notes · View notes