#I saw a post about his christmas special thing where he like SMOTHERS you with a million gifts

[hms-chill]

RWRB Study Guide: Chapter 4

Hi y’all! I’m going through Casey McQuiston’s Red, White & Royal Blue and defining/explaining references! Feel free to follow along, or block the tag #rwrbStudyGuide if you’re not interested!

The Willard (75): A luxury hotel just down the street from the White House, where rooms can cost up to $8,000 per night. It hosts the turkeys to be pardoned by the president.

Cornbread and Stuffing (75): Traditional Thanksgiving dishes. Pardoning turkeys are commonly named after foods associated with Thanksgiving, recently including Bread, Butter, Cheese, and Apple.

Pennsylvania Avenue (75): The street that the White House and Willard are on.

Until I pardon them (75): The pardoning of the turkeys is an actual American tradition. Americans began sending turkeys to the president around the same time we started celebrating Thanksgiving, and the tradition of pardoning them began with Clinton in 1999. Only one turkey is officially pardoned, but there is always a backup turkey, and you can read their names here. 

En suite (76): A bathroom directly connected to a bedroom.

CNN (76): Cable News Network, a liberal news station.

Republican primary debate (76): A debate between candidates for the Republican (conservative) party, held before the party decides who they will nominate for the presidential race.

Summer home in Majorca (79): Majorca is an island in the Mediterranean, just off the coast of Spain.

Jurassic Park* (79): A movie in which dinosaurs escape from their cages and the main characters have to escape them.

Autoerotic asphyxiation (80): “erotic asphyxiation” is essentially sexual choking; if it’s “autoerotic” it would be Alex doing it to himself.

Silk pillow over my face (80): This may be a reference to the Shakespeare play Othello where (spoilers, though it’s been out for like 500 years) the title character smothers his wife with a pillow after rumors that she’s cheating on him.

Jaffa cakes (80): A British snack with a sponge cake base, a layer of orange jam, and topped with chocolate.

Jabba (81): Jabba the Hutt, a Star Wars character.

Great British Bake Off (81): A famously wholesome baking show that is technically a competition between home bakers from around the UK, though it is far from competitive.

Scandinavian skin care (81): Many luxury skincare brands have come from Scandinavian countries in the past few years.

Chopped (82): An incredibly competitive American cooking show.

The Manson tapes (82): A series of tapes revealing the dealings of the Manson Cult, which was responsible for nine murders in 1969.

David Bowie (82): A famously bisexual British actor and musician known for his bold presentation and stagecraft. He was admitted to the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame in 1996. (listen here and here)

Seinfeld (82): An American sitcom from the 1990s. Wayne Knight, who played Dennis Nedry and had a very bad time in Jurassic Park, was also in Seinfeld.

Jeff Goldblum (82): An American actor (and force of chaos) known for his role as Dr. Ian Malcolm in Jurassic Park, a scientist who sees from the very beginning that maybe breeding massive predators is a bad idea.

The Post (84): The Washington Post

Oval Office (84): The president’s office in the White House

Lincoln Bedroom (85): A guest bedroom that is part of the Lincoln Suite in the White House, named after President Lincoln, who used to room as an office.

Chocolate shop on the first floor (85): According to the White House Museum online, there is a chocolate shop on the bottom floor of the White House that prepares the chocolates served in the White house.

The Atlantic (85): An American editorial magazine that covers news, politics, education, science, and more. It targets serious readers and “thought leaders”. (More)

Truman Balcony (85): A balcony overlooking the White House’s South Lawn (in the “back” of the White House).

Mijo (85): For those who haven’t read my fic “Speaking My Language” here, “mijo” is Spanish term of endearment that translates directly to “my son” (Mi hijo)

Washington monument (86): A tall obelisk on the National Mall in Washington, DC, dedicated to George Washington.

Eisenhower Building (86): The Eisenhower Executive Offices Building is a building that houses the executive Office of the President, including the Vice President’s office.

Los Bastardos (86): Spanish for “The bastards”.

Caldillo (86): a spicy Mexican beef stew.

Masa (86): A corn/maize dough used for making corn tortillas, tamales, and other Mexican/Latin American dishes.

Valedictorian (87): A student who ranks the highest in their graduating class in high school.

New Orleans (87): A city in Louisiana known for its vibrant blend of French and Creole culture, its jazz scene, and its Mardi Gras celebration. It is also Casey McQuinston’s hometown.

AP classes (90): Advanced placement classes are high school classes taught at a college level; at the end of the year, students take a test to determine whether or not they will get college credit for it.

Hanukkah (90): A Jewish celebration honoring the second rededicating of the temple in Jerusalem. It is not traditionally a major Jewish holiday, but it has become one of the best-known due to the fact that it occurs near Christmas every year. 

“Good King Wenceslas” (91): A traditional Christmas song about a king who braves the cold to give alms to a poor peasant on Christmas.

Jim-jams (91): Pajamas.

Tiger sharks over a baby seal (91): According to my roommate, who loves sharks, tiger sharks are one of the most vicious types of sharks. They’re bottom feeders, so they wouldn’t necessarily get seals too often, but if they got one, they would be all over it.

Bougie (95): Fancy or upper class (from the French “bourgeoisie”).

Real Housewife (95): The Real Housewives of [City] are a string of semi-popular American reality TV shows.

East Room (95): An event and reception room in the White House.

Tramp stamp (96): A tattoo on the lower back, associated with less savory activities and a general air of trashiness.

Zac Posen (97): A gay, Jewish fashion designer from New York, known for his glamorous evening gowns and cocktail dresses.

Middle-shelf whiskey (97): A “middle shelf” alcohol is one step up from the cheapest option; a whiskey is a dark alcohol associated with Texas/the West.

���American Girl” (98): A 1976 rock song that has become a rock classic. (Listen here)

Center for American Progress (98): A liberal public policy research and advocacy organization.

Pez (candy) (99): A type of small, sweet pieces of candy that come from fancy, collectable Pez dispensers.

Sky writers (99): Sky writers use the trails of their airplanes to write things in the sky. It costs at least $3,500 for a single message.

“Get Low” (101): Despite its incredibly raunchy lyrics, this song was a common one at school dances in the early 2010s. I was in middle school in roughly 2010-2012, and I have vivid memories of people being into this song.

The Kid ‘n Play (102): A dance move pioneered by the hip-hop duo of the same name, loosely based on the Charleston. (see it here)

Vato (102): Mexican slang for “friend”, “person”, or “dude”. 

Moët & Chandon (102): A luxury French champagne.

New Year’s Kiss (103): At least in the US, it’s traditionally considered good luck to kiss someone at the stroke of midnight on New Year’s.

Peach schnapps (103): Schnapps is a sweet, inexpensive, and very alcoholic drink.

Rookie NFL running back (103): A running back is a football position responsible for running with the ball. Most are either short and quick to avoid tackles or big and stocky to power through them.

Yacht kid (104): Someone rich.

Orion**(105): A winter northern hemisphere constellation of a hunter/warrior. According to Greek mythology, Orion was the only man (or person) the goddess Artemis ever loved, but she refused to give up her life with her huntresses for him. He began burning/destroying her forest in retribution, and she is forced to kill him.

America’s golden boy (105): A “golden boy” is a boy who is favored or put upon a pedestal. 

Tequila (106): A type of alcohol that originates from central Mexico.

Bloke (106): British slang for a “regular dude” or everyday man.

Teen Vogue (106): An American magazine aimed at teenagers that used to focus on fashion and celebrity news, but has more recently shifted to dealing with serious social issues.

------

*This movie is especially known for its special effects, which are incredible because they actually built animatronic dinosaurs and also got real scientists on the project to help them figure out how dinosaurs would move/act. After it came out, earth and environmental science departments around the world got a ton of funding to see if they could find any dinosaur DNA in fossils, as that’s a central part of the movie’s plot.

**According to a nerd astronomy class I took in like 4th grade, every culture who could see Orion saw a warrior, which is just... really cool to me. That so many people for so long saw the same thing in a set of stars.

------

If there’s anything I missed or that you’d like more on, please let me know! And if you’d like to/are able, please consider buying me a ko-fi? I know not everyone can, and that’s fine, but these things take a lot of time/work and I’d really appreciate it! A massive thanks to @lyanna-wilson for the ko-fis the other day; they meant a ton!

------

Chapter 1 // Chapter 3 // Chapter 5 

[cloudparadox]

Remnants || Chapter 1 - A Familiar Face

Summary: AU in which Tim can see things others can't.

As he got older, it became less and less, to the point where he thought his "ability" had disappeared completely, until one day it comes back full force and Tim is forced to come clean to his family about it, which ends up putting more strain on their already delicate relationship. And then there's Jason who'd never really been about delicate. 

Words: 1686

Warnings: Angst, death, ghosts, teeny tiny bit of gore (nothing explicit), mental health issues, bad parenting

Pairing: Tim Drake x Jason Todd (eventually)

Notes:  So this is my first Jaytim fanfic and also first Batman-related fanfic altogether. I'm absolutely not sure about anything here, really, but I'll try my best. This first chapter just kind of happened, but I really like it, so I thought I'd get my shit together and actually post it, rather than letting it sit forever in my drafts. I'm sorry for any spelling errors or the likes. Thank you for every like and reblog and especially comment! I appreciate it <3

Taglist: @sweeetsummerchiild  (please tell me I remember correctly that you told me to tag you for this >.<)

Tim had been but a young child, a tiny little thing, with chubby cheeks that bloomed cherry-red at the smallest amount of affection and attention, when he saw the first one.

The first ghost. Spirit. A revenant. Spectre. Whatever you wanted to call them. The dictionaries had fed Tim many words for what he was seeing.

His younger self had been naive enough to tell his mother about it later on. About the woman that was never noticed by anyone, always trying to get them to see her. The woman had then realized he could see her when she caught him staring. She was nice. In fact, she was the first ghost that talked to him. She was beautiful and young. Too young to have died. Not much older than his own mother.

It was weird. Some ghosts looked utterly horrifying. Torn, bloody clothes, wounds all over their skin, or worse. One ghost, he remembered in vivid detail. He had aimlessly wandered through a creepy alleyway that Tim and his parents walked by one evening, in late December. One of his eyes was missing and he was so thin and so frail, barely older than forty, maybe.

How he died, Tim didn't want to know. Mother often told him about the bad people in this city. Father did, too. What terrible things they did and that only people who did said bad things suffer because of it. 'Bad things only happen to bad people, Timothy'

Tim didn't believe that, not even as a young child. Maybe it was his intelligence that he was so often praised for, or maybe just the fact that he just knew differently, that he'd seen things that proved that statement to be false.

But this woman looked nothing like that. Not a single injury, no blood, nothing. In fact, she looked eerily familiar, yet Tim's tired brain failed to catch up properly at the moment since he'd just woken up to see a ghost in his own room.

Her smile made Tim's insides feel all fuzzy, as did the warmth in her green eyes as she beckoned him to come closer. Not once before had a ghost followed him into his house.

"Don't be afraid." her voice made the boy jump which caused her to smother a grin. "I won't hurt you. I am just here because I'm running out of time, and I think you're the only one who can help me with this."

"B-but I-. How am I supposed to help you, ma'am?"

The way he addressed her made her laugh. It was gentle, almost sounding like the faraway Christmas bells he loved listening to in the evenings. "You can call me Mary, sweetheart."

Tim's cheeks flushed brightly at the nickname and he allowed himself to relax and ease himself back on his bed, kicking his legs a little to get rid of the remaining tenseness of his body.

The woman- Mary, continued. "I don't have much time left, sweetheart. I know I'm not supposed to be here anymore. But I need to make sure it's alright for me to leave." her smile dimmed and she gingerly sat down on his bed, how that worked Tim didn't want to try and figure out right now, and brushed some of her dark hair behind her ear in a way that poked and tugged at Tim's brain because her face seemed so familiar and-

"You're Mrs. Grayson, from the-"

"Circus. Yes. I'm surprised you remember."

"But- You- that was months ago! I- how?" his voice became smaller as he tried to take in the fact that someone he'd seen dying, seen the death of, was here, in his house, his room, sitting on his bed and asking for his help.

"It's been that long?" a frown worked its way onto her face and Tim felt bad for telling her.

"I'm sorry." Tears gathered in his eyes as he recalled that night, the one that was supposed to be happy, and it was, if only at the start. He thought of the screams, the blood, about the young Dick Grayson crying over his parent's bodies and-

"Don't cry, silly. You have nothing to be sorry for. If anything it should be me apologizing. No child should have to see that."

Dick had to, Tim thought bitterly. More proof that what father said was wrong. None of the Graysons were bad people. "But, how can I help you? I'm just a kid."

Mary sighed and it was heavy, like she was hesitant to go on. "I know. And I'm sorry that I have to burden you with this, but- I need to know what happened to my son. I need to make sure it's okay for me to leave, that he's fine and not-" the woman choked on the words and Tim's little heart hurt, his chest feeling heavy.

"You couldn't find him." It wasn't a question but she nodded anyway. "Dick was adopted by Bruce Wayne." Coincidentally they were basically neighbors. Something like that, with more distance. "I didn't meet him or anything, but he seems fine. Happy, even." Well, as happy as a boy who lost his parents could be. "I'm sorry," he said again. Why, he didn't know. There was a lot of reason to be sorry.

"Thank god. I- I thought-" she stopped, clearing her throat and wiping at a few tears that had dropped. "I know this is a lot to ask for, but can you keep an eye on him?" the request shocked Tim and it must've shown on his face. "Just make sure he's not- not in any danger at home? I doubt anything would happen to him there, but..."

"Okay. I promise," he swore, already debating how and what and where and thinking about all the ways when Mary shocked both him and herself by carefully touching his shoulder. "How are you-?"

"I don't know, sweetheart. I've never been able to touch anyone, even by accident. It was just a reflex to reach out. But I guess you're just something special, huh?" her soft smile was back and Tim's cheeks were once again crimson. It made her laugh, in a way she hadn't since that day. "Thank you, for this, Timothy."

"You can call me Tim if you want." In his head, he sent out a silent plea that she would because with his parents it was always Timothy and Timothy was everything they wanted him to be and not always what he actually was. "You don't have to thank me, though. I didn't really do anything."

"You did, sweetheart. I know my place isn't here anymore. But I could not leave without making sure Dick is safe and thanks to you, I know that now. Know where he is. So, thank you, Tim."

The emphasis on his preferred version of his name made him grin before it faltered. "You're leaving then?"

"I have to. I'll just make sure to see my son one more time, now that I know where he is. Maybe I'll finally see his father again, wherever I'm headed to after...moving on."

"Are you scared?" Dying and then having to leave for the unknown sounded terrifying to him.

"Not anymore." she got up from her seat next to him, green eyes alight with hope and love and more Tim couldn't identify. "You're a very special boy, Tim. Don't let anyone tell you otherwise. I'm sure you'll do lots of good in the future with that bright mind of yours." she playfully tapped his head before gently ruffling his messy black hair. "Goodbye, Timmy."

Tim blinked and she was gone with a last smile directed at him. "Bye," he whispered after what felt like an eternity.

Tim had shared some of this occurrence with his mother after a lot of debate. He definitely regretted doing that.

Some of the dictionaries also told Tim that he might simply be insane. He knew the word well after all father used it a lot when he talked about other people, especially from work. But that would mean Tim was a bad person, and he couldn't be bad just because he saw things others didn't, right?

That's what he told himself throughout his mother's scolding, his father's lecture about not ruining the good family's name and then the regular meetings he had with a "specialist". That didn't help him at all. The man had declared him completely sane. That day, after the doctor had told him he wouldn't come back as it wasn't necessary, father had a long talk with him. Tim had managed to hide his tears well behind his bangs, only speaking up to agree with what his father said. Something along the lines of 'my son will not be one of those crazies'.

Tim wondered if his father knew about mother's own struggles. She was sad a lot. Sometimes it seemed like she wasn't there with them at all. Her body was, but her mind wasn't. Mother loved him, that he was sure of. Her hugs were always so warm. Even if they became rarer and rarer over time. Now his parents were gone more and more, leaving him alone in this big, cold house. Mrs. Mac was still there though. Sometimes. Not enough.

Still, he kept seeing the ghosts. He started calling them Fades at one point. Now he learned to ignore most of them, save for the ones that took note of him. Most didn't.

He tried to pretend he was normal. That he couldn't see these things. Sometimes it worked. Most times it didn't, not in the beginning anyway. Tim didn't want to be crazy. He didn't want to make his father mad, didn't want to disappoint him or make his mother even sadder.

He had tried explaining it, tried to find actual help, but no one listened. He was alone with his fears and nightmares, kept captive by what others didn't know, didn't see, or simply didn't want to acknowledge.

Maybe it was no fear, but madness.

And Tim learned over time, if you're crazy, you don't exist anymore.

[where-are-jimins-jams]

Bts scenario: Reaction to you giving them a gift

A/N: I have been busy with school so I'm really sorry for not posting as much. This was actually my friend's idea so credit to her for giving me inspiration xD I'm also trying something different with the writing here so let me know what you think <3

____________________________________

It wasn't hard to notice that he was working hard or that him and the others were stressed for the comeback. All the late nights, skipping meals and pressure to not disappoint the fans was really taking a toll on him. Today was no different. You had stayed up and waited for him to come home so you can give him the present you bought. It wasn't anything too special but it was something he's been wanting for a while so you figured you'd get it for him. Walking through the door he tiredly takes off his shoes puts the keys down, only now noticing you standing a few feet away holding the wrapped goodie

SEOKJIN

Seeing you standing there he'd walk over to you pulling you into a hug. When he actually takes notice of the object in your hand he smiles really wide and feels quite touched that you've not only listened to him talk about this thing but have taken time from your day to go and get it for him. No matter how tired he is he can't stop grining at you thinking to himself how he scored such a wonderful girlfriend

"Ah how did I get so lucky"

YOONGI

He'd probably be very surprised seeing you awake at this hour. He'd usually find you asleep on the couch as a result of a failed mission to wait for him. He doesn't mind tho. He could never. It means a lot to him that you even try to do it. As his eyes travell from yours to the present he feels a warm feeling bubble in his chest. Not because of the actual present, which he appreciates no matter what, but because at that moment with one sweet gesture you've managed to make his day x20 better. Very little people have that impact on him and he couldn't be happier that you're one of them

"I love you and thank you for this but we should really get some sleep"

HOSEOK

If he felt exhausted a second ago it was all gone now. He'd be super excited to see you've gotten him something. He gets even more excited when he sees it's the beanie he wanted to buy that time at the mall but eventually forgot. He'd be so super grateful to have someone like you in his life and promises to take you on a date tomorrow night to even out the odds.

"My jagiya got me a present how cuuuute"

NAMJOON

He'd be so tired and worn out that he only notices the present when you mention it as he leaves a small kiss on your forehead. Taking the object from your hands he flashes his dimples at you asking you want it's for. After you explain how you've been worried about him and wanted to brighten his day he gives you the biggest grin he could muster feeling truly loved by the small action. The feeling only grows when he actually opens it and finds the scarf he's been talking about getting but has been too busy to actually do it. He'd gently cup you face as he leaves a soft kiss on your lips pulling you into his arms staright after

"Ah you're so cute come here"

JIMIN

This boy would be so ecstatic and smiley when he sees you've waited up AND gotten him a present. He'd immediately pull you close burying his head in the crook of your neck telling you how greatful he is and how much he loves you. When you tell him the reason behind it he assures you that everything will be back to normal once the comeback is over and they're on their regural schedules. He'd take your hand and lead you to the bedroom where you two fall asleep cuddled up next to each other and neither of you would have it any other way.

"I've been wanting this for a while thank you so much jagiya"

TAEHYUNG

He probably saw something on his way to practise that reminded him of you and he bought it so he was absolutely thrilled that you've done the same thing. As soon as he tells you he has a gift for you aswell the room would be filled with laughter. It would kind of feel like Christmas morning except at night and not on Christmas but with the same aura of excitement and happiness. As soon as he realises what the gift is he'd smother you with kisses telling you how wonderful you are and how glad he is that you're in his life.

"Hey I'm supposed to be the one buying gifts here stop that"

JUNGKOOK

He was particularly tired that night so saying that he was happy he had a hug to come back to was an understatement. When you give him the present he'd tell you that you don't have to get him anything or spend money on him and that being here with him was enough. It does make him feel very giddy on the inside tho even if he doesn't admit it. He'd probably give you a tight hug and give you a little spin after he sees it's the hoodie that was out of stock the last time he went to the mall to go get it. As a thank you you'd most definately wake up the next morning with the breakfast and coffee waiting for you at the dining table.

"You don't have to spend money on me seeing you at the end of the day is more than enough"

// I do not own any of the gifs listed above credit goes to the original owners //

[upontheshelfreviews]

Sigh, poor package features, why does nobody like you? Why is it that internet reviewers and Disney critics and fans always seem to give you the shaft? Is it the minimized animation budget? The effort towards story and character that was forcibly driven towards wartime propaganda over actual films? The deviation of a traditional three-act structure in favor of a string of unrelated shorts woven together by a loosely connecting theme or narration? Well in a manner of speaking, it’s a combination of all three. For one thing most people I know prefer to sit down and enjoy a movie that has one uninterrupted story. And yes there are a good number of films, great ones, in fact, that play around with how the story is presented, but as of writing there’s yet to be an audience or even a filmmaker clamoring for an animated equivalent of something like Pulp Fiction.

In theory.

And of course the major factor in all this is the time period in which these movies were made. I’ve already talked about this in my review of The Adventures of Ichabod and Mr. Toad but for those not on the uptake, THERE WAS A FREAKING WORLD WAR WHILE THIS WAS GOING ON. Disney couldn’t afford to do something on the scale of Pinocchio or Fantasia or even Dumbo because his best animators were A, drafted out to fight, B, struggling to work with what little resources they had when the government was also pushing them to remind the public to buy bonds, or C, kicked out because of the disastrous animators’ strike of the early ’40’s. Projects with linear narratives that were considered big scale like Alice in Wonderland, Peter Pan, and Lady and the Tramp were put on hold for virtually a decade. The best they could do was package a bunch of fun little shorts together because releasing them individually wouldn’t bring in as much desperately needed revenue as a full feature would.

And who says these shorts are bad? I don’t! At worst they’re fluffy little time fillers, but at their best they can hold their own with the big leagues of Disney animation. Again, going back to my Ichabod and Mr. Toad review, Disney’s Legend of Sleepy Hollow is the first thing I and a good many others think of when the story comes to mind. I also have the advantage that a lot of people today sadly don’t in that I grew up with virtually all of the package feature shorts in one way or another, either through individual VHS releases or on the Disney Channel as part of shows like Mouse Tracks, Donald’s Quack Attack, or the DTV music videos. It would be years until I saw them all as they were meant to in order as one full film, but blame Disney themselves for that. It’s a Catch-22 situation when it comes to their forgotten films; Disney sees there’s not much public interest in these old movies and so holds out on releasing them for as long as possible, while the public notices Disney never getting around to releasing these movies and think it must be because they’re not worth their time. So nobody wins and we all get smothered under another avalanche of Frozen dvds.

“FROZEN??!!! FROZEN FROZEN FROZEN!!!!!”

“No! Go home! You’re drunk!”

As of writing there’s only two – count ’em, TWO – Walt Disney Animated Classics that have yet to be released fully on Blu-Ray, and they’re, you guessed it, package features. “Make Mine Music” and “Melody Time” to be precise. You wanna know how old the dvds for them are? The advertisements that play before the main menu are for The Tigger Movie and The Little Mermaid 2. That’s THE YEAR 2000. NEARLY TWENTY YEARS AGO. And the only reason why today’s feature “Fun and Fancy Free” got on blu-ray is because the higher ups at Disney decided to combine it with Ichabod & Mr. Toad. So now we have a package blu-ray of two package features (three if you count The Reluctant Dragon which is also on there). It’s Package-ception, if you will. BWOMP.

“She’ll get around to the actual review any minute now, folks.”

Back to the topic at hand, World War Two was finally winding down and the country was in a state of elation from having their boys return home after tearing the Axis powers a new one. Walt Disney had ideas for two full-length features, one inspired by a short story by Sinclair Lewis (I’d say based on but it barely resembles the tale that’s printed) and the other a take on Jack and the Beanstalk starring Mickey Mouse. Neither of them were able to get the treatment he wanted due to story issues and because the first thing to go during wars and Republican administrations is money for the arts. So he compromised by bringing them both into one movie with each of them sharing a half. Looking back I would have loved to have seen what an hour-length or even 75 minute version of Mickey and the Beanstalk would have been like because for all its flaws I enjoy it that much, and I’m tired of holding my breath waiting for Disney to do SOMETHING with “Gigantic”. Bongo on the other hand, I can’t see as anything other than a short, but that’s not a jab at its quality. Yet how do both stand up as a feature? Does it live up to what its title promises? Let’s find out.

After the main title song (which sounds like the opening theme of a variety show from that decade), we get Jiminy Cricket from Pinocchio going about his merry way in somebody’s house singing “I’m a Happy Go Lucky Fellow”. This was actually a deleted song from Pinocchio meant to be sung by Jiminy, so it’s good to hear it sung here. It proves the old adage about ideas at Disney is true; things are never thrown away, just put aside for someone to find and use later.

Wait, that book, is that…Darkman?! Whoever owns this library has good taste.

After startling a goldfish who resembles Cleo from Pinocchio, Jiminy concludes the fish suffers from too much anxiety and tries to reassure her by showing her a newspaper full of headlines that amount to “doom imminent, we’re all gonna die” (ah, the New York Post never changes). He explains that everyone’s been playing Nostradamus for years saying the world is going to end tomorrow but you can’t go around thinking like that. Que sera sera, whatever will be will be, you get the idea. I get where Jiminy’s coming from, I truly do, but it’s hard to back up his philosophy when he’s using real current problems as examples to ignore.

See what I mean?

Jiminy runs into a hungry cat and hides out in a child’s playroom where he bumps into a sad-looking doll and teddy bear. Assuming that all toys must be like his buddy Pinocchio he takes on the role of conscience yet again and tries to help them with their problems.

“Lemme guess, you’re wishing to become a real girl, right?” “No, I’m just disheartened by the extreme gender stereotyping that are enforced through children’s playthings and the psychological ramifications that are passed down with every generation.” “Swell!”

Jiminy’s prognosis is that these two depressed toys are in desperate need of some music and fun to cheer them up. So he whips out a record of Dinah Shore reading and singing the story of Bongo the Bear.

“The main character of the piece we’re about to watch, obviously.”

“No, I mean who the hell is Dinah Shore?”

“Ah. Gotcha.”

Dinah Shore was a popular big band singer of the 1940’s and one of the first female artists of her day to make a successful solo career for herself. She appeared on multiple popular radio shows, was a Chevrolet spokeswoman, won a total of nine Emmys for her various television shows and specials, and was romantically linked with stars ranging from Jimmy Stewart to Burt Reynolds. And remember Pee-Wee’s Christmas Special? She’s the woman who keeps popping in singing an endless rendition of The Twelve Days of Christmas that goes over the end credits.

This wasn’t Dinah’s first contribution to a Disney package film as she had lent her pipes to the titular song of the “Two Silhouettes” segment in Make Mine Music the year prior. She does fine as the narrator of this section, though there’s one teensy problem I have which I’ll get to eventually.

The record begins with Dinah Shore saying this is a story about three bears.

No, Ms. Shore spells it out for us – a girl bear, a big mean bear who wants to be her mate, but mostly of Bongo, a bear born and raised in the circus who’s the star of the show. Had this story turned out the way Walt originally envisioned, it would have been something of a crossover-sequel of Dumbo with the titular elephant and the catty matriarchal troupe of pachyderms providing cameos. I assume this fell through due to Dumbo’s salary demands being a little too far out of Walt’s price range.

You know the war’s hit you hard when working for peanuts puts a crunch on your budget.

Bongo puts on his impressive act of juggling on a unicycle while on a high wire before making a spectacular dive. But we’re also privy to what happens when the show is over; no sooner does he back out of the tent from his curtain call than he’s manacled, hosed down, tossed into a cage and hauled off to the next state for a literal rinse and repeat. He’s the circus’ main draw, but he’s treated worse than, well, an animal.

And people wonder why Ringling Bros. went out of business.

In between shows the miserable Bongo dreams of a life of freedom out in nature. We’re supposed to feel immediate sympathy for Bongo based on what we see and because Dinah Shore tells us to, but the abuse is edited so quickly and played off almost comically. They’re aiming for Dumbo’s level of emotion but we had time to get to know Dumbo and develop a connection with him. We saw him be happy, we saw him bond with his mother, we saw him befriend Timothy; almost all of that happened before he was thrust into heart wrenching drama. We barely know anything about Bongo apart from he’s a talented circus performer who’s more like a prisoner than a celebrity. Did he have a good childhood? Was his family in the same line of circus work? Does he have a favorite color?

One day the call of the wild is too loud to ignore. He escapes thanks to a very flimsy lock on the door of his train car (you think between that and how the staff treats him they’re purposefully setting up an opportunity for him to vamoose) and soon he’s zooming down the mountain on his unicycle. For the next several minutes Bongo explores his new forest surroundings and befriends the usual bevy of Disney fauna. Dinah Shore underscores Bongo’s laid back euphoria with “Lazy Countryside”, an easygoing and pleasant tune.

Unfortunately after night falls Bongo is quick to learn that the bare necessities of life will not come to you, at least not right away. Between the incessant chatter of nocturnal animals and insects keeping him awake and a storm threatening to cut his newfound life short, Bongo spends the night and most of the following morning cold, alone, and starving. His attempt at fishing like a bear should doesn’t go as hoped, but it does catch the eye of our story’s love interest, Lulabelle.

Voted “Most Likely to Awaken A New Generation of Furries” in the ’47 Disney yearbook.

I love Bongo’s reaction to seeing Lulabelle for the first time; an unmoving incredulous expression on his face as he tries to wake himself up from this vision, all the while Dinah Shore says “I must be dreaming! It’s too good to be true!” about three dozen times. The two flirt for a little while before we’re spun into the next musical number called, you guessed it, “Too Good To Be True”. It’s cute, but the floating on pink clouds, the hearts everywhere, the little cupid bears flying around, it all seems somehow familiar…

“Do the Care Bears countdown, and send a wish on to the aiiiiir…”

The song itself is nice, but there’s one that always springs to mind which I prefer. My introduction to the story of Bongo was not through a full viewing of Fun and Fancy Free or even a tape of this segment, but through DTV. See, the Disney Channel launched around the time MTV was a massive success, and wanting a little of that to rub off on them the company commissioned a series of interstitials comprised of clips from their shorts and animated films edited to classic pop, rock and blues hits and called it DTV. They basically predated the kind of fanmade music videos you see on YouTube. It was popular enough that there were even a few hour-long holiday specials built around them (mainly Valentine’s Day and Halloween). I bring this up because one of the first DTV videos I remember watching and am still fond of is Marvin Gaye and Tammi Terrell’s “Ain’t No Mountain High Enough” set to a few mountain-climbing themed shorts but primarily scenes from Bongo. And darn it, it cuts through the corniness and simply works. The imagery and overall sappiness of “Too Good To Be True” evokes every single vapid and thoroughly unsubtle Valentines Day product that is churned out en masse that time of year. No, wait, it’s not Valentines Day level of beating you over the head with glamorized romance. It’s Defcon 5, people – it’s LOVE DAY.

So Bongo and Lulabelle are happily in love, but it would make for a pretty dull short if it ended right here. Looks like we’re gonna need some more conflict to get the ball rolling. Enter our third bear, Lumpjaw, whom Dinah Shore describes as “the roughest, toughest, meanest bear with murder in his eyes”.

Meh, typical cartoon bear, he’s not so scar –

AHHHHH!! I TAKE IT BACK! I TAKE IT BACK!!

Lumpjaw is jealous that this newcomer is making moves on “his” girl, and since Bongo doesn’t know how to fight like an ordinary bear he starts getting the crud kicked out of him until Lulabelle intervenes – and slaps him silly herself.

Bongo believes Lulabelle must hate him and is completely oblivious to her and the other bears watching the spectacle waiting for him to hit her back. You see in this movie, the law of the forest dictates that bears show love by hitting each other repeatedly.

“She hit me…and it felt like a kiss…”

And oh I can already hear the wailing of “this promotes abusive relationships” through my computer screen. First off, I KNOW firsthand what an abusive relationship is, and it is more than just physical violence. That doesn’t condone violence, not one iota, but emotional/psychological abuse play a part in it as well, and Bongo is at least quick enough to recognize the smacking as what it should be, an unwarranted act of aggression that is entirely the slapper’s own fault. Second, give the kids you put this on for some fucking credit. Children’s entertainment is not one size fits all. Some might internalize this backwards logic of “hitting means love”, but others may ignore it completely. If you’re concerned that they might act out this kind of violence after watching this, just sit them down and talk to them about it instead of assuming the worst and convincing your neighborhood to toss their dvds into the nearest dumpster fire. Even if you tell them something as basic as “this is only how bears show they love each other but not how people do” they’ll be more apt to listen. Speaking of, there is some truth to this fact as bears in the mating season can get territorial and violent, hence all emphasis on the slapping. As ridiculous and horribly dated as this whole concept of this plot point is, I’ll give the story men credit that they didn’t pull it entirely from their asses.

Lulabelle doesn’t understand why Bongo isn’t hitting her back and since they can’t talk it out because the only method of communication is the narrator providing inner monologues, the usual romantic misunderstanding ensues. You know how I feel about this blasted cliche, so there’s no point dwelling on it. She tries to give Bongo one more chance with another slap, but he ducks and she hits an eager Lumpjaw instead. The other bears congratulate the two on their forthcoming nuptials while Bongo sulks off.

Then comes our next musical number performed for the half-happy couple by the tribe of bears, “Say It With a Slap”. It sounds like something you’d hear in the Country Bear Jamboree, from the background yodeling to the square dancing bridge to the subject matter being hilarious for the time and for Southerners but awkward and uncomfortable by today’s modern sensibilities. Also as far as ritualistic courtship dances go I’m more fond of the Finnish Fish Shlapping Dance myself.

Watching the festivities from afar Bongo finally puts two and two together and races back to Lulabelle. Since Bongo can’t fight Lumpjaw on the big guy’s terms he faces him like a smarter than the average circus bear and pummels him good with his unicycle. I’ll give the sequence this, it’s the most entertaining thing in this half of the picture. Maybe if this story had focused more on Bongo learning to adapt to the wild bear lifestyle and finding a middle ground between that and his circus upbringing rather than dawdle on love montages and countryside imagery this could have been a more interesting short.

The two wind up on a log on a river, and since this is an animated movie they quickly find themselves at the edge of a waterfall. Lumpjaw goes over but oh no, Bongo’s gone too – oh wait, no he isn’t, yaaaay. The bears celebrate, Bongo becomes a willing participant in Lulabelle’s masochism tango, and they live slappily ever after.

The record ends and Jiminy is pleased to see the toys are now smiling. Thrilled that he’s got two inanimate objects buying into his well-intentioned dime store philosophy, Jiminy is about to go on his way when he spies a birthday party invitation lying about and uses that as an excuse to invite himself. I’d make a complaint here about Jiminy being a gate crasher but it’s something he’s done since Pinocchio; hell, that movie kicked off with him hopping into Gepetto’s workshop uninvited looking to spend the night and messing with some of the toys there as well so nothing has changed between then and this movie.

At the house across the way is the party in question being held for Luana Patten, a Disney child star who’s also appeared in Melody Time, So Dear to My Heart, and Song of the South, usually alongside future Peter Pan Bobby Driscoll. The host is a popular ventriloquist of the day, Edgar Bergen, and his two dummies, little wiseacre Charlie McCarthy and bumbling bumpkin Mortimer Snerd. In fact, they’re the ONLY ones there. Just tell yourself Luana’s parents had to go out for the night and Bergen’s a family friend who’s babysitting and it makes this scene slightly less questionable. When Jiminy shows up, Bergen is doing one of his ventriloquism tricks for little Luana with a literal hand puppet.

This early version of Lamb Chop’s Play Along is WEIRD.

Now this scene is something that irks a lot of people, and I understand why. Bergen is often touted as the man who popularized ventriloquism but here you see his lips constantly moving. In this kind of act what impresses people is that you’re making your puppet appear to be talking WITHOUT making it obvious that you’re the one who’s doing it. The fact that his popularity got started on the radio, where NOBODY could see him pulling this off is especially baffling. I suppose what Bergen lacked in innate talent he made up for with a good sense of comic timing and his fairly likable if simple characters. Speaking of, Charlie and Mortimer are odd to be sure, and I see why some find them off-putting with their big unblinking eyes and noticeable slits around their large mouths, but personally speaking I’ve found certain Muppets to be much creepier than these dummies. Despite all this, I can’t hate the guy or his weird looking puppets or their questionable placement in this movie.

And you wanna know why?

Because if it wasn’t for Edgar Bergen, we wouldn’t have Jim Henson.

I kid you not.

Henson was a huge fan of Bergen as a child, and it led to him wanting to become a puppeteer. I think we all know how that turned out. It’s enough that as a way of showing his appreciation to Bergen he gave him and Charlie McCarthy a cameo in The Muppet Movie and dedicated it to him after his passing.

Bergen decides to regale the company with the story of Jack and the Beanstalk. When you think about it, Jack and the Beanstalk is a hard tale to tell, not because it’s been done so many times before but because there’s so few good versions out there. Let’s get one fact straight, Jack is a TERRIBLE main character. He makes a stupid decision that nearly plunges his destitute family into further poverty, then cons and steals from an innocent housewife no less than three times and kills her husband in cold blood when he’s caught. It takes a lot to make you want to root for him, and lord knows people have tried. The Faerie Tale Theater version added a backstory where the giant was the one responsible for killing Jack’s father and stealing his family’s treasures in the first place. HBO’s Happily Ever After series and The Henson Company’s made for TV movie explored Jack’s morality by having him learn greed makes him as much of an all consuming monster as the giant. The Gene Kelly television special and the animated Japanese version both added a cursed princess in need of rescuing; the latter also went for straight out weirdness just for good measure. And then there’s the Sondheim musical Into The Woods, which told the story best by forcing Jack to face the consequences of his actions when the giant’s widow finds another beanstalk and climbs down for revenge.

So how does Disney make their version one with no questionable morals or character motives? By having their three main stars Mickey Mouse, Donald Duck and Goofy star in it, of course (if you haven’t already gotten that before). There were tons, and I mean TONS of story ideas that were tossed around when this was being developed as a full-length feature which I would have loved to have seen in the final product. One version would have had Honest John and Gideon from Pinocchio be the ones who swindle Mickey into buying the magic beans. Another one had Minnie be the queen of Happy Valley (proving that not all animated queens who don’t have ice powers have to be evil) and had her give the beans to Mickey as a way to return the dried up Happy Valley to its former glory. There were lots of gags and and creative visual concepts about the land of the giants and what would happen when the main trio got there. For a time the hen that laid golden eggs, a staple of the original story, was a part of it, and she would have been played by the now relatively obscure character of Clara Cluck! Unfortunately everything had to go when the war started and the budget got slashed. And that’s not the only thing that went with it. This short would be the last time Walt Disney would provide Mickey’s voice as his smoking habit was beginning to affect his performance. After this he would pass the torch to the studio’s sound effects wizard Jimmy McDonald.

Bergen opens the tale in the magical land of Happy Valley and we see Luana imagining it in her mind as he builds on details like babbling brooks, lush farms and a splendorous castle overlooking it all. And in that castle lives the key to Happy Valley’s success, a magical singing harp (Anita Gordon). She sings the lovely “My What a Happy Day”. I really like this song; some have told me it’s the sound of blandness, but I can’t hear them over the innocent joy it infuses me with. Maybe it’s the fact that I grew up with this particular short that makes me enjoy it so much. My VHS copy had the story narrated by beloved Wonderful World of Disney character Ludwig Von Drake with bookends featuring him and Herman the Bootle Beetle, and I watched it all the time. It was my childhood.

According to Bergen the song of the Harp casts a spell of prosperity and happiness over the land, which admittedly raises one potent question: The enchanted prosperity I can get but is the happiness a side effect, or is it enforced like that one Monty Python skit where everyone in that Happy Valley has to be happy all the time or else?

Of course the story would go nowhere if it was constantly this happy which leads into my favorite exchanges between Bergen and Charlie:

Bergen: It was too good to last – Charlie: I knew there was a catch. Bergen: For one day – Charlie: They built a schoolhouse.

Out of the blue an enormous shadow creeps over the valley like a storm cloud (complete with actual thunder and lightning too) and snatches the Harp from the castle. Without the Harp’s music Happy Valley decays into a barren wasteland that no amount of song can salvage.

And Lord knows they’ve tried.

We check in on Mickey, Donald and Goofy, three starving farmers with nothing to their name but a dried up cow, a crust of bread they have to slice paper thin, and a solitary bean. It’s a darkly comic sight, one made even more tension-filled and humorous when it’s filtered through the narration…

…in the Von Drake version.

Yeah, while we’re on this topic I might as well go into why I prefer the one with Von Drake narrating over the original. The main problem I have with Bergen is the same I have with Dinah Shore’s voiceover in the Bongo section, yet by comparison Shore is barely a nuisance. You want to know what that is?

BERGEN.

NEVER.

SHUTS.

THE HELL.

UP.

Everything he adds to the proceedings is already plain to see before us, and when he isn’t talking about the current action on screen or trading barbs with Charlie McCarthy he’s going into what the characters must be thinking or feeling at that moment. It’s not like film is a visual medium where we can draw our own conclusions based on what we’re viewing and our prior knowledge of the characters, oh no, we have to be told everything like we’re children. Oh wait, we don’t, because I watched the Von Drake one when I was a child and I knew what was going on without him telling me every five seconds! The Von Drake edition knows when to clam up and let what’s happening speak for itself. It allows this half of the movie to breathe and lets us take in some good atmosphere and music where there was once constant voiceover. On top of that, Von Drake’s delivery hits all the comic beats while Bergen’s is rather dry. The original Mickey and the Beanstalk from Fun and Fancy Free has cleaner scene transitions as well as moments that were edited from the Von Drake edition since that was taken from television, but half the charm comes from Von Drake and Herman; that and the previously mentioned amount of narration makes their take the superior version.

“Wow…I never realized how much I needed to say all that.”

“Felt good, didn’t it?”

“You have no idea, Cynicism.”

Anyway, caught between starvation pangs and an omnipotent voice incessantly stating the obvious, Donald finally snaps and attempts to make a sandwich out of the plates and cutlery. Goofy and Mickey bring him back to his senses, or so it would seem.

Ah, I knew this movie was lacking something – nightmare fuel!

Mickey spies the axe conveniently hanging on the wall has gone missing nearly too late. Outside Donald is making his moves on the cow.

Heeeeeeere’s ducky!!

For many people this is one of the scariest moments in Disney cinema. While I’m not inclined to agree I can surely understand. His slow descent into madness is framed almost like a psychological thriller. Plus, we all know Donald’s had a temper before but we’ve never seen him flat-out attempt murder…almost.

I’d like to point out that in the picture on the left the gun is going off in a crowded theater. Unfortunately the timelessness of Disney’s films doesn’t always apply to their early shorts.

Mickey and Goofy intervene in the nick of time and the story fades back to the puppet party. Charlie is all up for Donald murdering the cow to survive and lists a number of increasingly gruesome ways to pull it off over Luana and Mortimer’s distressed protests. Ok, NOW I think I understand why everyone is terrified of Charlie McCarthy. The kid’s a little wooden sociopath.

After some more blathering, Bergen gets the story back on track and tells us Mickey went to go trade the cow for some much needed vittles. But Donald and Goofy’s dreams of a Be Our Guest style feast are dashed when he returns home with nothing but a handful of beans. Donald goes berserk even after Mickey says they’re supposed to be magic and smacks them out of his hand where they fall into a hole in the floor. Yet as everyone sleeps that night, light from the full moon shines into the house, which is the very thing needed for the beans to work their magic. The whole sequence where the beanstalk grows through the entire house and raises it up to the sky is a highlight. It begins with an almost sinister air, the beanstalk crawling its way upward and silently through the dark like a snake, and the wonder and music constantly builds as it climbs higher towards the heavens. Every action matches with the music, and the animation is the best in the whole movie. I must say it always amazed me that Mickey, Donald and Goofy are able to sleep as heavily as heavily as they do through the whole ordeal, especially since they get shaken around so much and come close to falling so many times. Were the hunger pains that bad that they took a heavy dose of Ambien before turning in?

The three wake up that morning in a land in the clouds where everything towers above them (and apparently they’re totally fine with their house being destroyed). They venture to a nearby castle where the only clue as to who lives there is a set of footprints each the size of a ditch. While crossing the moat Donald angers a formation of dragonflies and one dive bombs them. On the tape I had it was immediately swallowed by a jumping fish and the ensuing splash washed the friends to shore. So imagine my surprise the first time watching it in full and seeing this was a full-blown action sequence of sorts with the dragonfly going after them repeatedly and their little vessel nearly sinking. I’m guessing it was cut for time but it’s kind of a neat part.

Mickey and crew climb up the enormous stairs and sneak in the castle under the door, and all the while Bergen does not stop talking. I’m almost tempted to put it on mute when the animated characters aren’t the ones who are speaking. They come across a giant table laden with enormous food and gladly help themselves. Goofy in particular gets in plenty of shenanigans involving a bouncy jello mold. The gorging is cut short when they hear the voice of the Harp coming from a locked chest. She informs them that she was kidnapped by the giant Willie.

Twenty-eight years of watching this…how did I not realize… There is no way that name could have been chosen at random!

Bergen tells us Willie is “a heartless monster” who stole the Harp because “he was cruel and selfish and didn’t care what happened to Happy Valley”. And I…he…I…

No.

NO.

Screw you, Bergen.

Screw you, screw your horrible narration skills, and especially screw your picking on my Willie!

“Ugh, there’s no way around that phrasing, is there?”

Again, going back to the Von Drake edition, they painted Willie in a much kinder light, one that’s more true to his character. He’s not the crude, gluttonous, overly violent thug like past giants. He’s big enough to pose a threat but he’s silly and very endearing, almost childlike at times.

Come on, does this even look cruel, selfish and wicked to you?

His goofy voice plays a part in it as well thanks to Billy Gilbert, the same actor who voiced Sneezy in Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. At one point he even gets to do his trademark over-the-top sneeze. Willie does not seem at all like a cold-hearted brute who would leave an entire kingdom to rot for his own selfish pleasures. It’s highly likely he didn’t even know the Harp was needed for the land to thrive and was completely ignorant to the fact that Happy Valley was turning into Death Valley without her. That’s why it bugs me when he’s lumped into the group of Disney villains. Nearly every bad guy in the canon either openly embraces how evil they are or do what they do because they believe it is the right thing. Willie falls into neither category; most of his maliciousness is incidental rather than intentional. If you don’t believe me that he isn’t evil, look at how he’s portrayed beyond this movie. In a bout of perfect casting, he plays the friendly and jovial Ghost of Christmas Present in Mickey’s Christmas Carol. He’s also made positive appearances in shows like House of Mouse and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse. Maybe it’s just because I’ve always had an affinity for big tough looking characters who are really enormous marshmallows (wait until you see who my favorite character is when we get around to reviewing the American Tail movies), but I can never see Willie as a true villain, and that’s a good thing. So back off, Bergen. He may be a big galoot, but he’s MY big galoot.

What also separates Willie from the giants in most other adaptations is that he has the ability to change himself into anything he wants provided he says or sings the magic words “Fee Fie Fo Fum”. A common complaint with this new feature is that it’s completely unnecessary; his superpower is that he’s already big and strong, so why give him magic? I disagree. I like his transformations and think it adds something special to him. Walt purposefully wanted to create a combination of the traditional beanstalk giant and the shape shifting ogre from the fairy tale Puss in Boots to add more danger and intrigue to the story (as well as eliminate the moral quandary of making a side character a widow). In fact one has to wonder if this means Walt ever planned on doing an animated take on Puss in Boots someday. My only wish is that Willie’s powers were utilized more as it was originally planned in both his song and the first draft of the ending, where he’s shrunk down to normal size and becomes a member of Queen Minnie’s court.

Willie discovers Mickey hiding out in his sandwich and snatches him. But clever Mickey has already seen Willie showcase his powers through his introductory number and pretends to learn and be impressed by that fact after reading Willie’s palm. Willie is eager to show off and Mickey, spying a flyswatter nearby, asks if he could transform himself into a housefly. Willie is of course suspicious and would rather be something like a pink bunny but goes along with it anyway. The friends prepare to attack, but Willie does the old switcheroo and exposes them.

I’m guessing Mickey never bothered to actually read the original Puss in Boots story; there Puss convinces the shapeshifting ogre to turn into gradual bigger and fiercer creatures and then taunt him into becoming something small and helpless so he can dispose him. Sweat the small stuff immediately and the one you’re trying to trick will be on to you right away.

Willie captures his would-be murderers though Mickey escapes before he can get locked up with Donald and Goofy. Luckily they have an ally in the Harp, who sings Willie to sleep with the sweet lullaby “My Favorite Dream”. Mickey is able to sneak the key out of his pocket after almost waking him with an upturned box of snuff and rescues his friends. Donald and Goofy start making their way back to the beanstalk with the harp, but Mickey tries to buy them more time by tying up Willie’s shoelaces in case he wakes up. Unfortunately doing this does cause Willie to wake up and attack. There’s a surprised “Oh!” from Luana at this part that was left in on the Von Drake tape so for the longest time I assumed it was the Harp crying out in terror despite the fact that they sound nothing alike. Oops.

Mickey manages to outsmart Willie at every turn, mainly because the giant is so furious he conveniently forgot he can become anything and catch and crush Mickey like an insect at any second.  The story abruptly ends with the three friends cutting down the beanstalk and Willie crashing to his death. We don’t even get to see the harp returned or Happy Valley restored or Mickey, Donald and Goofy sharing a victory high five. Mortimer’s not satisfied mainly because he’s saddened by Willie’s murder, and I don’t blame him. As if I need to repeat it, they do too good a job of making him likable that you don’t want to see him die. Bergen responds by reminding Mortimer that Willie is only a fictional character and gives him a crash course in fantasy vs. reality – one that is completely thrown out the window when the real Willie looks in on them.

So, sentient crickets and puppets are accepted as normal as well as a living giant that everyone once believed to be fictional…

This whole movie took place near Gravity Falls.

There is no other possible explanation for this.

Bergen has the appropriate reaction and faints, Mortimer takes comfort in knowing reality is an illusion and the universe is a hologram, and Jiminy figures maybe now is a good time to get the heck out of dodge before this crossover gets any stranger. So our odd little film comes to a close as we follow Jiminy tailing Willie as he terrorizes the downtown Los Angeles area in search of the mouse who made him homeless.

“Run!! It’s Godzilla!!” “It may look like Godzilla, but due to international copyright laws and the fact that this giant is so obviously a human whereas Godzilla is reptilian, it’s not.”

Well…that was something. Maybe not as spectacular or fully underrated as I remember, but it was something. The host parts are disjointed and don’t gel very well, even in comparison to the other package features. But the main draw at the time was less about the animation and characters and more about the celebrities that would be playing a part in it. Fun and Fancy Free basically predates the Dreamworks formula by about fifty years. Food for thought, huh?

As for my summary of the individual segments, Bongo is perfectly fine. Not amazingly humorous or gorgeously animated, but not poorly scribbled out or annoying, at least for the most part. It’s middle of the road entertainment that I don’t have much to complain about or praise. The worst I can say is that it’s as padded as my high school brassiere. Mickey and the Beanstalk, though? Never fails to give me the nostalgic warm and fuzzies. It’s a big adventure with a boatful of lovable characters and great songs. By all means though, seek out the version that has Ludwig Von Drake narrating. It’s available on dvd, and last time I checked it’s on Netflix too. It even comes with some of my favorite Mickey shorts like “Mr. Mouse Steps Out” and “Brave Little Tailor”. I know I’m not the only one who feels some connection to this part of film; whereas nobody remembers or bothers to reference Bongo, even in Disney media, there’s one or two mentions of Mickey and the Beanstalk in the Disney parks, primarily in Fantasyland. Also, take a look at these stills from the Animaniacs parody of the fairytale and tell me it wasn’t influenced by the Disney one in any way.

Fun And Fancy Free performed decently at the box office, though it was overshadowed at the time by Walt Disney’s infamous testimony at the House of Un-American Activities Committee. Now it’s merely a footnote in Disney’s history. When interviewed about the film years later, the animators openly admitted they didn’t want to work on it. Even Walt barely had anything to say about it in his interviews and biographies. It was merely an assignment they had to do in order to keep the studio afloat, hold on to their jobs, and get their mascot Mickey back in a starring role (the last one he’d really hold until Mickey’s Christmas Carol in 1983). Truth be told, the making of Fun And Fancy Free, which was included on the original VHS and DVD release, is more interesting than the film itself as a whole.

But at the end of the day, do I dislike this movie?

No, not really. I can’t call it one of my favorites, yet there are things I like about it that I wish they were allowed to expand upon. It’s an uneven film that does the best it can to be simply light and entertaining like its title. And I guess that’s why people are quick to harp (ahem) on it. Disney is capable of making great art. But just because it can doesn’t mean we should diss it when they to do something lighter and fluffier. Sometimes you need that shallow, pleasant bit of pure escapism to bolster your spirits. Do you think the animation team would have been able to get by after Walt if they didn’t make The Aristocats? Or begin recovering from the failure from The Black Cauldron without The Great Mouse Detective (which I don’t think is merely shallow filler at all, but I’m saving my thoughts for the actual review of it). I admire Disney for being able to shift gears and go from deeper subject material to goofy comic fun when need be.

In other words, when watching this particular film, just repeat to yourself “It’s just a Disney movie, I should really just relax”.

Thank you for reading. If you like what you see and want more reviews, vote for what movie you want me to look at next by leaving it in the comments or emailing me at upontheshelfshow@gmail.com. Remember, you can only vote once a month. The list of movies available to vote for are under “What’s On the Shelf”.

If you want to support me and totally not get swindled into buying magic beans, please consider supporting my Patreon. It’s completely optional, you can back out any time you choose, and it comes with perks like extra votes and adding movies of your choice for future reviews. Special thanks to Amelia Jones for her contribution!

And a VERY special thank you to The Three CommentEARS for their insightful and entertaining commentary on this film which helped influence and inform this review. I’ve done some commentaries with them in the past for Pinocchio and the extended anniversary edition of Pocahontas, and they know their Disney stuff. Please go and check them out!

Caricature by Brian Slatky, 2017

June Review: Fun and Fancy Free (1947) Sigh, poor package features, why does nobody like you? Why is it that internet reviewers and Disney critics and fans always seem to give you the shaft?

[coldtomyflash]

Coldwestallen, Barry and Iris rescuing Len from being stood up by a blind date (That Lisa never set up, cause she's trying to help her brother score the two heroes he's fallen for)

Y’know anon, I never did get around to filling this prompt for you, and I absolutely do still love it. I’ve been coveting it for a while, knowing I want to fill it but also wishing I had the time and energy to do it justice. But I’ve just read like 7 short coldwestallen fics and realized that it’s basically my main OTP/OT3 now and I need like… way more of it. So I think it’s finally time to take a stab at this.

Thanks for your patience in getting here :) Also, while my first plan was going to be fluff, this got… a lot more charged than intended, so uh, I hope you end up liking it anyway?

Five minutes late, Len could accept. He didn’t appreciate it, but he understood that most people didn’t take time as literal as he did. He’d been four minutes early, so it was going on nine sitting here alone. At least he had a book.

Ten minutes late… he started to drum his fingers against the table in frustration. He gave in and ordered a beer, tired of waiting on his date. He’d been thinking about getting some fancy cocktail to suit the nicer appeal of the restaurant, but if his date ever showed up he could get wine with dinner if he wanted to present some semblance of class.

Fifteen minutes late and still no text or call, nineteen minutes sitting there reading and trying to stop peering impatiently at the door. It rankled. The waitress had been by to check on him twice already, knowing he was waiting for someone. He debated paying up and leaving versus just ordering food and accepting the pitying look, maybe charming the waitress instead. He could put on that mask for the evening, nurse his own hurt ego by convincing someone else to fall in his bed.

Screw it, he could lick his wounds somewhere more his speed.

He was twenty three minutes in and signalling the waitress to come over and give him the cheque for his beer when he saw them. He hoped - no. They saw him. Or Miss West did at least, eyes going wide for a moment before tugging on Barry’s arm where he was talking to the host at the front of the house. Len tried to keep the scowl off his face as Barry followed Iris’s gaze and blinked owlishly at him.

Len arched an eyebrow, lifting his book back up. There was no way he was leaving now but that didn’t mean he had to -

Why were they coming over?

“Snart,” Barry stopped next to his table, hands casually in his pockets. Len put down the book. 

“Barry. Iris,” he tilted his head to acknowledge them. They were dressed nice, Iris looking beautiful as ever in a dress that cut low. He made sure not to stare. “Let me guess - date night?”

“What’re you doing here?”

He arched an eyebrow up at Barry and his genuinely perplexed expression. He pitched his voice toward droll, “getting stood up for a blind date, of course.”

Barry’s expression flipped to uncertain then quick to a casual laugh, taking the bait. “Right, casing the place then.” Except he didn’t walk away content in his own conclusions then. Instead, he slipped into the booth opposite from Len. So did Iris, after hesitating for a moment.

“Babe - our reservation?”

“Yes Barry, your reservation. I’d hate to ruin date night.”

“I’m sure you would. What’re you planning to steal here anyway?” Barry actually glanced around as if Len might be planning to steal the light fixtures or something.

“Does it matter?” Len drawled, subtly placing the book on the seat next to him, out of sight. It was a blind date and she was supposed to identify him by the book. If she showed up this late, he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to meet her anyway, and definitely didn’t want her potential appearance to tip Barry and Iris off to the fact that he actually was on a blind date and being stood up. Not when the couple in front of him were already guaranteed to be better company, if completely off limits.

“Welcome. Can I get you folks some drinks?” The waitress appeared before Barry could answer. She was smiling wide at Len and he mentally willed her not to say anything about how the rest of his party had ‘finally’ shown up.

Iris looked at Barry, eyebrows raised. 

“Old fashioned?” the other man said and Iris, after giving him a slightly disbelieving look, turned to the waitress with a smile that was only slightly strained.

“Dark and stormy.”

“Classy,” Len said, sipping his own beer in defiance.

“Like you said, it’s date night.” Iris turned her too-sharp smile on both of them and Barry hesitated a little, clearly picking up (finally) on the fact that his date didn’t necessarily want to be spending their evening babysitting Captain Cold.

“Right. Should we…?”

“Oh do stay,” Len almost bit his tongue after the words came out, trying to pull back the impulse but they were already out. “Who knows what wicked things I’ll get up to otherwise?”

“It’s fine,” Iris laid a hand on Barry’s arm, giving it a squeeze. “Let’s stay.”

Len blinked, wondering exactly what she was playing at. Barry seemed reassured though and leaned forward, clasping his hands in front of him, attention on Len. “Really though - what were you after?”

“Figure it out.”

Iris looked between them and sighed, “okay, if we’re doing this, why don’t we start over, boys. Leonard - how nice to see you. It’s been since Christmas. Read any more of my articles recently?”

He almost snorted. Iris had barbs in that smile and he was a little impressed. She was keeping him off his game, but he could still answer in kind. “Your take on the surveillance state in the era of ARGUS oversight? Big fan.”

“I bet you were.”

Their drinks came and they looked hastily at a menu. Len tried to smother his surprise at the fact that they were actually ordering, and then again at just how much Barry ordered. He put on a charming smile for the waitress and ordered himself a glass of wine for his meal. Iris suggested getting a bottle. Len wasn’t about to argue.

“Save the world recently?” Len asked, finishing his beer. Barry barked out a laugh and even Iris looked entertained.

“Not this week. Bagged a meta, but eh,” Barry shrugged a little, clearly a bit pleased with himself. His limbs got looser when he was pleased with himself.

“What about you?” Iris asked. “Keeping out of trouble?”

“Hardly,” he grinned back at her, a little too much charm in it, a little too lascivious but Barry didn’t look perturbed by Len flirting with his girl so maybe he didn’t pick up on it.

Iris did though, her eyes twinkling ever so slightly. “I can only imagine.”

He tilted his head. Was she flirting back?

Barry coughed slightly. “So uh, what were you reading?”

He arched his eye at the book, not lifting it from the seat, just in case. “Kafka on the Shore.”

Iris’s eyebrows shot up. “You like Murakami?”

“I read,” he agreed with a tilt of his head.

“Have you read any of his others?”

“Pinball 1973. I heard Colorless was going to be bleak so I haven’t got there yet.”

“It’s rough but so good. It might be my favorite.”

“I’ll take it under advisement.”

Their wine came, interrupting them and Len sat back, offered the first taste, enjoying it. He realized this was starting to feel like this was an actual intended dinner, two gorgeous dates sitting opposite him. It was a shame they were each other’s date and not his.

“Good choice in wine,” Barry’s eyebrows were raised, clearly appreciating the north coast dryness. Len smiled graciously. 

“It pays to know about varietals and regions - never know who you might have to con and how high class they’ll be.”

Instead of scowling, Barry laughed into his wine. “Can’t just accept the compliment?”

“When have I ever made anything easy on you?”

“I’ll drink to that.”

It was Len’s turn to chuckle, the three of them clinking glasses. He relaxed into his seat, the conversation continuing, back on to books and literature then wine and other eclectic pieces of knowledge he’d gained for cons, on to some of Barry’s more specialized knowledge with Iris peppering in one or two anecdotes about Barry in his younger days that had Len genuinely laughing.

It was relaxed enough, smoothed over by cocktails and wine and food, that he almost started at the soft pressure of a foot against his calf. He swallowed the bite of steak, washing it down with wine, wondering what the hell Iris was up to. The foot was just grazing his calf, trailing down now. There was no way it was a mistake.

“And then Barry got the bright idea make a blog post with this grainy photo of ‘Big Foot’ and let me tell you: my dad? Had no idea what Barry was up to until he posted that. Would not have figured it out whatsoever–”

Her toes tickled the skin of his ankle, riding up his pant leg just a bit before retreating, smoothing back up.

Barry groaned into his hands, “he was so pissed when he figured it out. How was I supposed to know he followed my impossible blog?”

Her foot tapped his knee and he arched an eyebrow at her. She arched one back, sipping her wine innocently, waiting.

“How else was he ever supposed to know what you were up to, Barr?”

Len cleared his throat a little, shifting to open his legs in his seat, sitting slightly lower in the booth. He focused his attention on Barry. “You sound like you were a handful as a teenager. How many times was it that you ran away?”

“Let’s… not count. But in my defense, I wasn’t running away. I was just… going on trips.”

Len snorted, and thanked whatever deity was watching out for him that it covered the intake of breath when Iris’s foot pressed up along his thigh. Fuck, whatever this was, she was going to be the death of him. Maybe literally if Barry was the dangerous jealous type. Was that her kink? Getting her man riled up? 

“All done?” The waitress interrupted. Iris didn’t let up with her foot and Len made sure he was leaning forward so nothing was visible. 

“Thanks.”

She picked up their plates, having already grabbed all the ones Barry had emptied. “Dessert?”

“Please,” Iris said before Len could turn it down and the waitress left to get a menu. Her toes were sliding against his balls, just below where he really wanted them, hard as diamonds. At least getting killed for this was going to be worth it. “What’d you think, babe?” she turned to Barry, taking his hand in hers. “Should we split something?”

“If you want to…?” his oblivious, casual smile was almost too much.

She smirked and turned to Len. “Leonard?”

He glanced at Barry, who finally looked a little perplexed, sharing his gaze, then turned back to arch his eyebrow at Iris. “You have something specific in mi–ind?” He almost swore as her foot shifted suddenly to massage his cock, straining against the front of his pants. It was warm and deft and he had never in his life been attracted to feet but the pressure was perfect and he wanted to murder her for the challenge and amusement in her eyes.

“I’m thinking chocolate,” she said. “Something we can split three ways. You okay with a three-way split, Barr?” She still had his hand entwined with hers and slipped it off the table. Len’s chest constricted. Barry’s eyes widened, cheeks flushing ever so slightly.

“Oh. Oh.” He was way too obvious, eyes shifting between Iris and Len. He wondered where she’d placed his hand? On her thigh, feeling the muscles tighten as she worked Len? Or somewhere even more intimate. Barry coughed and leaned forward on his other elbow, that damning hand still somewhere. “A three-way… split. Yeah that would be… perfect.”

Shit, Len should not have taken that long to pick up on Iris’s meaning. He’d been busy panicking, in his own defense. But the look Barry was giving him… maybe Len’s own attraction hadn’t been so one sided after all.

The waitress returned with the menu and suddenly all hands were accounted for, all feet back where they ought to be and Len tried not to mourn the loss. “We’ll have the chocolate cake à la mode. Just the one. Three spoons, please.” 

Iris’s smile was dazzling. The waitress smiled back, surreptitiously giving Len what he recognized well as a ‘nice catch’ glance. If only she knew.

He cleared his throat, willing his body to calm down. They still had dessert to get through. “You two split dessert often?”

Iris looked charmed that he was carrying on the metaphor but it was Barry who answered, scratching the back of his neck.

“First time for everything.”

That was interesting.

“I’m honored.”

“I might’ve mentioned to Iris,” Barry glanced at her, still looking faintly shy, “something about wanting to share dessert with you before.”

That was even more interesting. Len hooked his foot forward to catch Barry’s ankle. He was no Iris, but he knew how to flirt. “I know my reputation precedes me but I promise I can play nice with others. At least when I’m so inclined.”

“So you are… inclined?”

Len titled his head. “It’s a particularly appealing dessert. And what can I say - I’ve always had a sweet tooth.”

Iris laughed and Barry did with her, both of them sighing it out. “I can’t hold up this metaphor any longer,” Iris admitted. “Not with a straight face anyway.” Her foot was hooked around Len’s other ankle now but her shoe was back on so he took it to mean that he’d get to keep his sanity intact for the rest of the meal. 

“You started it.”

She finished her wine with a smile. They’d polished off the bottle, and it wasn’t long before dessert was gone too. He was pretty sure she ate it slow and sexy just to drive him and Barry wild, and if so she succeeded. Barry kept stealing glances at him, caught between shy and flushing, and Len couldn’t wait to get out of there. He picked up the tab, both of them trying to protest but he’d hear none of it.

They made it all of the way back to the car before Barry pressed him against the side of it and kissed him thoroughly. Iris gasped, delighted, and Len felt heady and warm, surprised but not at all disappointed that he was taking charge.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for… I can’t even say how long.” Barry’s eyes were lidded but earnest when he pulled back and Len could barely stop looking at his lips.

“Mm, that makes two of us. Never figured either of you would be willing to share.”

“I never thought Iris would go for it,” Barry glanced to the side at her, and Len couldn’t blame him, considering the first time he and Iris had met had involved death threats in their living room.

“Well,” Iris cupped Len’s face and leaned up on her toes to kiss him. She tasted like wine and chocolate and he was still pressed to Barry and for a moment, everything in the world felt better than perfect. “What can I say? It turns out Barry has good taste.”

[ … ]

He talked to Lisa two days later. She had a twinkle in her eye asking how his night went. “My date never did show,” he pretended to be put out, since Lisa was the one to set up the blind date with a friend of hers.

“Oh? So you went home alone?”

“Not exactly,” he smirked.

“Oh good,” she smiled. “Maybe you’re lucky you got stood up then.”

“You’re not… mad, at all?”

“Not in the least. Especially since my friend Sharon doesn’t exist.”

That took a second to process. “Lise…”

“I’ll have to thank Cisco for the intel on where your two favorite heroes were going to be for their date night.”

“You… what.”

“Oh Lenny,” she patted his arm. “You really are hopeless. If your crush wasn’t visible from outer space I wouldn’t have done anything, but… here we are.”

“Outer. Space.”

“If it makes you feel any better, Cisco said Mr. Red Leather was just as bad. This was like a mercy kill, brother. A mercy setup.”

“You’re disowned.”

She cackled at his retreating, red-faced back. “Just don’t forget to thank me in your wedding vows!”

[pisati]

it feels like a failure on my part.

I should know better. 

I already know I overanalyze everything. it’s always worse in my head. almost always. it hurts to admit that those few times I was right are what guide my rationale. because now I can’t say it never happens. it does happen, and it hurts like hell. and I need to be able to preempt it.

but that leads to spiraling insecurity. anxiety. I’ve found myself looking for tiny things that could be foreshadowing. the crack in the levee. how do you really feel? 

I want to be able to trust. I do. god. I’m tired of looking for reasons my friends secretly hate me. reasons I’m not good enough; why this probably doesn’t mean anything. being like this is just another reason. 

mom’s mood flips. she held back snapping at me today because her boyfriend was here, and she’d never. not in front of him. taking my things away if I didn’t do what she wanted, and not just cleaning my room. I had an entire breakdown once because she took my laptop and phone for not wanting to go on a walk with her, and I had a group project due the next day that I needed to work on. pulling me by the arm into pictures. all I did was say no. I never knew what I would do that would flip a switch. she rarely ever apologized. I was so hard on her but I was just different. spent my whole life wondering what the fuck was wrong with me. there must be something. there must be a reason she lets my brother get away with everything; why she’s never laid a hand on him. 

charlotte let her shitty boyfriend convince her I was a bad friend. she didn’t talk to me for a while. interior design? this girl’s gonna end up homeless on the street. and talking to those internet friends; she’ll be raped and murdered first, ha ha. I took a much-needed nap after school once instead of visiting when she had her wisdom teeth out and she wrote a vague woe-is-me blog post where I could obviously see it. we’re so close, we’re basically sisters! I don’t even remember what shit she dragged out of nowhere when I pissed her off one big time, but she stores it somewhere. every little fuck-up. I flinch internally when I hear the minuscule tone change, even when it’s not directed at me. just trying to placate her, so things don’t escalate. agreeing even if I don’t. she’s always right. I need control over my security; she needs control over everything. 

I never talked about this one. I had a long list of crushes through high school who never noticed me. or did, and thought I was weird. there was one who liked me who I may have liked back, but my indecisiveness drove him away. understandably. omegle was a lowkey thing then, and it was entertaining to see who was interesting, who wasn’t. this one was something else. I was experiencing full-blown depression for the first time. I was lonely. sad. we’d had a fun conversation; he said he liked talking to me. added each other on facebook. he lived in illinois. eventually I gave him my number, not expecting to hear much anyway. but he texted me. and we’d go back and forth. he told me he had a crush after a while, I didn’t know what to think about it. later I found myself falling too. the first time he asked if he could call, I was so nervous. I went into the basement where no one could hear. he’d call me late at night, and he’d ask me about my day, and I’d tell him. he said he just liked hearing my voice. maybe I was just jealous of everyone else at school, but I thought pet names were dumb and gross. then he started calling me babe. suddenly I was okay with it. so many late nights, a few weird nights too. I didn’t know what I was doing. he told me he loved me. after a while I found myself saying it back. I meant it. it took a lot for me to be able to say it. I told him I was afraid he’d leave. he promised. many a time, he promised. he disappeared for a month or two that summer and I ached over it. I wasn’t going to pursue him. but once I started college I took a chance and said something. he replied. it was back to the way it was, maybe even more intense. then he disappeared again, right before winter break. in the middle of a conversation. gone. I wished him merry christmas, no response. nothing. I couldn’t get out of bed for two weeks. couldn’t stop crying. I got angry. I felt hurt. he promised. then valentines day came. I went on facebook to see “N is engaged to [female best friend]”. I absolutely fucking lost it. I went to unfriend him, but it said I was just following him and we weren’t actually friends, somehow. I don’t know how that happened. I didn’t have anything sharp enough to do any damage but that didn’t stop me from trying to scrape at my own forearms. I needed to hurt. to this day I don’t know why. I promised myself I would never hurt myself over another stupid boy again. I never have. 5 years later he told me it wasn’t even real. he had some issues. he still had my number. he randomly had a dream about me. and he figured. you know. I wasn’t biting this time. I couldn’t even believe it when he messaged me out of nowhere. you absolute fucker. you broke me. and you had the nerve to come back.

I cared about him so goddamn much. the way he smiled when he got really into a song he liked. how he’d jab at me a little for being picky but still make me things I’d eat. how he could reason with me and help me reason through whatever it was. how it was so easy to talk about anything. most of the time. when his eardrum perforated, again, and he worried about not being able to pursue teaching music, and I offered to learn ASL with him. I wanted to anyway. the way he’d look into my eyes, the thumb back and forth; I knew. he was so gentle the first time. I really thought. if I didn’t love him, I very well could have. how my heart dropped into my stomach when I saw his hand on her thigh. when he went to discreetly brush his teeth the way he did with me. he didn’t even like her, I knew. the closed door, my heart pounding as I listened, hoping I wouldn’t hear what I knew I was going to. walking around town at 5:30 in the morning in the freezing cold, crying, trying not to throw up. if he gave a single shit about you he wouldn’t do this. we’d just talked about this, but it wouldn’t have taken me two days to get over him. this was the first time but it wasn’t the last. reeling me in, pushing me away. finding some other girl whose hips he could grasp at with his face between her legs. I thought maybe he realized something, every time. I really thought.

if I didn’t love him, I very well could have. I was over the drama, he barely knew about it. when he plopped my stuffed dog onto my chest and told me I was cute. I hope I’m not being too forward, but... I remember the exact song that played. so many nights with no sense of time; his room had no windows. he’d picked a dandelion off the sidewalk on oakland and tucked it behind my ear; now you’ve got some color to you, ha ha. I was special if he kept my hair tie around his wrist. he reassured me once because I got the way I always do. he was a charmer, I knew the deal. he sat me on his knee and held me. I wanted to trust him so badly. I was really in it. the way he’d look at me when I walked into a room. the way he looked at me and ran to my side when a friend had too much to drink and puked all over herself. the way he’d come back. mm, look at you. intimidating, strong; I felt him crumble in my hands. oh god, babe. I thought he’d squeeze the life out of me the last time he kissed me. I realized I couldn’t sleep without a rolled-up blanket awkwardly under my neck, like an arm. my chest was aching all summer; I cried into the dish sink at work knowing what was coming. he’d stopped talking to me; I felt it. not a month later. now they’re married. he said he couldn’t, then. I put up with that for a month, I don’t care how you deal with her. I really thought.

I can’t use my past to justify my present. this I know superficially. but I’m still so afraid. I want to shake the fear. I want to trust. but being hurt in that way is literally the worst pain I’ve ever been in. I would take any and all of the physical pain I’ve been in ten times over before emotional pain. I’m strong as hell and it’s entirely possible that I’ve already been through the worst of it, but I just really, really don’t want that or anything like it again.

but of course this causes rifts. 

I do attach anxiously. I don’t know how to feel secure because nobody’s ever been secure with me. it’s hard to know how people really feel when they don’t want to tell me. they don’t want to hurt me. A once told me I’m the kind of person who needs to hear the truth, even if it hurts. and it’s true. I just wish I knew how to trust what’s true. like some comedians: I swear, this is a true story. is it? 

I’m torn. I can take the plunge, take the risk, and trust. the risk being that it happens once again. I can protect myself through isolation; pushing everyone away. the latter is not ideal, and not healthy, but the former is terrifying to me in a way I can’t describe. 

I’m trying, I really am. I want to be better. I need something consistent over time. I can’t just jump into trusting another person. most animals can’t, in fact. if they’re scared of you, they’re going to bite every time you try to get a hand near them. you have to let them investigate. show them day in and day out that you’re not a threat. maybe after a while they’ll take a treat from you. let you put a hand on their head and rub behind their ears. they’ll be tense. they want to bite, but they won’t. it gets easier and easier with time and consistency. I would know, I’ve done this many times. I need patience. I need consistency. my sleep-deprived and anxiously attached brain needs reassurance, less as time goes on, I’m sure. I don’t think I’m unloveable. I don’t think I’m impossible. I feel like it sometimes, but I know in my heart of hearts I’m wrong. 

I hope I don’t scare you off. I don’t want to be smothering. I already sort of feel like you’re itching to get away and that bothers me, but there’s nothing I can do about it if I’m right. I’m not going to beg, as much as I want the good things to stay. I’m trying not to be so needy. clingy. everyone needs time to themselves. I would like to hear at least that, though. it won’t hurt me to say “I’m not up to talking right now, I’ll let you know when I am”. even that much eases my mind. sometimes trying to be understanding bites me in the ass, but I’d still rather be accommodating than demanding. I know I can grow. I know I can improve. I just need help.  I’ve thought about what feeling secure might be like, and it feels like a breath of fresh air. like calm. “needy” and “clingy” wouldn’t even be in my vocabulary. I see being independent like I have been, but with the bonus of someone to enjoy time with. I can picture it, I can feel it. I know I have a lot of love to give. but I’ve given too much of it to the wrong people and I’m scared. I can hear “you’re safe” and “I won’t hurt you” but I need the proof too. I’ve been promised. I’ve been lied to. but I so badly want to believe it.