#tarantulas thing is less his fault

[wortsandall]

man prowls life is in shambles...all the autobots hate him but different than before they are genuinely disgusted with him after the kup reveal (which i forgot he did tbh). devastator isn't his anymore, optimus almost killed him. kidnapped by an obsessive ex, his pseudo son with said obsessive ex wants nothing to do with him, he's wanted and on the run...and he did it to himself

[greywindys]

I think I can see your line of thinking, but I'm interested to hear why you think the album is about Murdoc more than it is about 2Doc this time.

Yeah, of course! I want to precede this answer by saying that this is all my fanon interpretation. The inferences I make use canon to support them, but Ed didn't seem to write anything like this into the actual CI story. I'm always open to new perspectives though. What really guided how I listened to CI was this quote, from this interview with Damon:

"It's very easy to suffer from delusions of grandeur in a culture like today's. The messiah complex is very real today, and it's evidently powered by social media. History teaches us how things end for false prophets, the madness that comes with any movement with one of them at the center."

Overall, CI isn't exactly saying anything new. I can name, off the top of my head, quite a few pieces of media that commentate on the same topic, in almost the exact same way. But the concept is, overall, consistent throughout the album, and I feel like I can hear a narrative. I don't like to conjecture too much about Jamie or Damon's artistic viewpoint, I'm not that kind of fan, but the songs seem to show a speaker getting pulled into a belief system, a vice, a ~cult (it's vague) and going through the motions of being a believer(Oil, Silent Running), to being a leader leading others down their same self-destructive path and being consumed by their own Messiah complex (Tarantula), to eventually coming out of it in the end, possibly (Skinny Ape, Possession Island). At the very least, there's an evolution from being the one controlled to the one who abuses their power (or tries to, at least). IRL, this could be Damon grappling with his own "Messiah" role, bestowed upon him by fans.

So why, if Damon is "2D", am I not saying this is about 2D?

The short answer: because none of that has anything to do with 2D. The narrative in the album, imo, is a lot more consistent with the cycle Murdoc's character has been stuck in consistently throughout Gorillaz' entire run. Murdoc is the one who sought out fame, love, recognition, etc, and constantly gets derailed by vice after vice, only to fight through it, but fall into old patterns again not long after. How many times have we played the "is he better this phase or not?" game? Who "suffers from delusions of grandeur'? Who had the Messiah complex this phase? Who has been both hurt by the world, and hurt the ones close to him? Murdoc. The album, to me, plays like an outside narration of Murdoc's journey this phase, and on a wider scale, the cyclical pattern of his life (and the band's).

Murdoc has often been used as the main character to voice the controversial opinions, to carry out the problematic decisions, essentially move the plot along at the expense of his own reputation among the fanbase. So it makes sense for me to think about each CI song in connection to each step of his ongoing, unhealthy patterns (one of which could be his relationship with 2D, hence where we can get the 2Doc reading). "Moonflower" is less of a real character to me than she is a representation of Murdoc's various vices and insecurities. And of course they unite in the end. He's either freeing himself of them, or welcoming them back to him so he can start down the wrong path all over again. Which leads me to my next question...

I'm still going back and forth about the ending of the album. Is it optimistic? Is it depressing? Is the message that we're trapped in our own addictions to social media, belonging, acceptance etc, but hey, at least we're trapped together? Are we Murdoc? Lmao, but I'm also also being somewhat serious.

I can already hear the counter arguments about how it was 2D who "literally fell for the cult," but the thing is, the narrative doesn't fault 2D for that. 2D also never had a Messiah complex, or got sucked into fame the way Murdoc did, and continues to do. All of 2D's flaws have all but been erased these last two phases. Talk about his children he doesn't pay child support for, his addiction to painkillers, his homewrecking, and whatever else, but the fact is that none of those things are acknowledged by the current canon anymore, and the current writers don't treat them as relevant. They might as well not exist, because the writers want him to be 100% "pure." The narrative doesn't portray his relationship with the rival cult as his fault either, it's Murdoc and Moonflower's fault for manipulating him (Moonflower) or being mean pushing him away (Murdoc). As he's currently being written, he doesn't have the range to be the main character on this album, imo. To be frank, there's little to nothing of substance there anymore (part of the reason I don't really respect what his character has become, despite liking him in the past).

I'm actually a little bit irked about the story we got versus the actual substance of the album. Though I typically defend Ed, I feel like he interpreted the concept very literally and gave us a simplified version of Damon's vision. It was a cute story, but compared to the album, it's kind of basic, imo. I think it also illustrates the overall lack of communication between the art, music and writing pieces. You can tell there wasn't a lot of cohesion until late in the phases development, and the cartoon band side of it missed out on a lot.

[rose-blooms-red]

So like. Ive been trying to work myself up to writing again seeing as i havent had any fucking energy or words or brain (energy/creativity) or like, literally fucking anything for months now. (The reasons for which are Many and Exhausting and I am So Ready for this year to be over lmao. And also bodies are fucking awful and so are brains (mental health plus the previously mentioned) and also just some personal stuff.) And part of that is reading fic.

The downsides to reading fics is that I sometimes see the most godawful fucking takes about Kori and Dick/Kori while trying to find/read fics, both just trying to read regular fic and fics specifically focused on trauma like I tend to seek out. Like. She in particular isn't a character I seek out to read about and, though I do love when she shows up, I don't really read much with her as a focus. She just doesn't grab the parts of my brain that would lead to that (tho tbf, only Dick and Wally really do that in DC, though there are a few others that are close) and as much as I can love dick/kori and fics with them they aren't really the ship I go for. It can be a nice read, but it's never really been my thing (i have similar feelings on babs/dick, tho to be completely honest I also like dick/babs less than dick/kori. I rarely if ever read romantic dick/babs, and basically never where the relationship is current lol. And surprisingly, given the givens, not completely because of the Tarantula situation) Tho tbf, romance in general can be tricky with me. (Listen. Ik I write a lot of shipfics but that doesn't mean I'm always comfy with it, or ig more accurately how it's portrayed a lot of the time. Especially if I feel like it's taking away from platonic relationships.) But like. The amount of times I run into complete like, idk demonization?? Of her is kinda fucking infuriating. For numerous reasons. And I'm saying this as a Dick Grayson fan.

Like, I haven't really covered.... any of the whole thing in fault lines yet (listen.... LISTEN I am Tired and busy and have health issues and fault lines is a fucking monster of a fic, I'm doing my best. There's kind of a fucking lot of shit to cover tho, even with the things I don't include from Canon that I either don't know or don't really want to add because of various reasons, and I am one person. One very exhausted person. And it's a really fucking hard fic to write sometimes okay,) not to mention the fact that it's narrated by an unreliable narrator which means the little bits that have come up are SKEWED they are SKEWED, Dick is not always right in his p.o.v of things!! But anyways, back to the point, even though it hasn't really come up yet Kori is never gonna be introduced as the villain of that relationship. Relationships and why they work or fall apart are fucking complicated!!!!! ESPECIALLY when trauma is involved. Like, I'm not gonna begrudge you if you don't like her because I'm not a fucking asshole. And I'm not gonna really try and force someone who doesn't like her for the reasons I've seen in fics surrounding Mirage and/or dick/kori's relationship. The former because I do understand why, even knowing her side of it all, it might not endear her to you, and the latter because I honestly do not have enough energy (emotional or in general) nor desire to get involved in anyway over internet fucking discourse for fictional fucking characters. I'm here to enjoy myself and relax/vent some of my shit through characters I love and world's I love, not to make myself upset because I get emotional easily when misunderstandings and characters being treated unfairly happen.

Which might seem at odds to what I said earlier about godawful takes. But part of my problem is that it's never really Kori in the fics. It's always just this one dimensional fanon version of her thats only there to be the villain. There are fics I read with her in what might count as an antagonist role, if you really feel like labeling it that, that deal with everything that dont do that and still manage to get all their points across or succeed in their writing. Usually just leaning into her not quite understanding that what Mirage did to him is rape because her experiences with rape was so different to his. Or even just the fact that she was so wrapped up in her trauma responses and her hurt and anger she didn't see it from his point of view. Or hell!!! Even just being herself, but not seeing past her own feelings of betrayal. And also just that. Relationships are Complicated!!!!!!

There's no fucking need to turn her into a hateful bitch with no actual purpose or character outside of being a prop to turn dick into an incapable, honestly kinda infantilized, hurt little 'owo' child.

Especially not when she is literally also a fucking rape victim.

And once again, I'm saying this as a Dick Grayson fan who honestly doesn't quite enjoy Kori-centric things.

There is just!!! No need!!!! Please there are complexities. There is a character there!!! And it is, honestly, so fucking boring when having her as an actual complex character offers so much more for one to explore in a story.

It is always more interesting and captivating when your characters are people not caricatures.

[servin-up-surveys]

survey #133

When did you last drink coffee? I've never truly drank coffee, just tried it a few times and thought it was disgusting each instance.

When did you last cry? And why, if you feel like sharing. Yesterday, a little bit. My sister posted something on Facebook that's happened at work over the past week or so, and it just warmed my fucking heart so much and reminded me yet again my sister is a real-life superhero, like very literally.

What was the last beach you visited and when? Carolina Beach, more than likely. Maaaaaaany years ago.

What book do you plan to read next? The next WoF book is Darkness of Dragons, the last book in this specific arc.

What fictional character/s remind you of yourself? Uh the first one that actually came to mind was Violet from The Incredibles haha, primarily as a teenager though. As I am now, I majorly relate to the character Clearsight in the WoF series, probably more than any other fictional character I've encountered. I resonate quite a bit with Kiara from TLK too, always wanting peace and to follow her heart no matter what.

What's in your fridge right now? List as many things as you can think of. Uh there's milk, yogurt, cheese, water, I'm sure lunch meat, lettuce and I think other veggies, condiments, etc. Our fridge is actually pretty full right now, definitely more than usual.

If you could have any artist, living or dead, paint your portrait, who would it be? Absolutely Nana Qi, much more popularly known as puffygator in online spaces. She makes THE cutest art I've ever seen absolutely anywhere, I am a ginormous fan of her work and I think if anyone has any chance of making me look even REMOTELY cute, it's her, haha. I basically BEG you to check her out.

Do you smell anything in particular right now? No.

Do you make enough money to live comfortably? [can be in combination with a spouse] I personally make zero money, so. My mom doesn't though, we're technically considered impoverished. We survive solely off her disability right now. I'm trying so damn hard to find a job so I can actually be financially useful.

What is one thing you like about your appearance? Don’t say nothing! I just like my hair, or at least how healthy it is and its general style. Not happy with the color right now, but.

What would you like to tell your father? I wish I saw you more. It's not just his fault, though.

What would you like to tell your mother? Thank you for absolutely everything you do to keep me safe, happy, and healthy.

Whose was the last wedding you went to? Bethany and Spencer's as the photographer.

What is your greatest fear? Living alone on the streets.

What is a chronic health issue you deal with, even if it’s minor? I think depression is the longest-lasting and the one that has most heavily affected my life.

What was your college major? If applicable. It changed between Game Design, Photography, Wildlife Biology, and then Art/Photography again.

What new place have you been to recently? Nowhere, lol. I basically never go to new places.

What are you a geek about? Meerkats, Silent Hill, tarantulas, snakes, Rammstein if u didn't already kno, Shadow of the Colossus, other stuff. But those listed are the primary topics I can think of where if you bring them up I will share E V E R Y T H I N G I know under the sun about them lmfao

What is something you have no patience for? Anti-LGBTQ+ opinions and behaviors. Like you are immediately JUST garbage to me.

What celebrity would you want to go out for a meal/drinks with? None realistically, bit too personal an occasion for someone I don't personally know at all. Well, unless it was like, Bindi Irwin lmao, I would take basically any opportunity to get to know her and be friends. It'd be a lot less awkward of an idea because she's not a celebrity that I "like" in a romantic/sexual sense, either, I just think she's fucking incredible and such an icon of love and goodness.

Are you happy with your weight? Hell fucking no, sick and tired of it.

When did you last hold a baby, if ever? Whose? Over three years ago when my niece Emerson was born.

How many cats do you have? One.

How many dogs do you have? One.

How many other pets do you have? One (champagne ball python).

How old were you when you got your driver’s license? I haven't yet, and I don't really think I ever will just with how fucking terrified I am of driving; it's just a fear I don't think I can conquer. I COULD NOT survive killing someone if I was involved in a car crash, like I'd just straight-up fucking kill myself. My panic makes me a dangerously passive driver, and people who know they can't drive in a safe, confident (NOT to be confused with aggressive) manner don't need to be on the road. I'm very well aware of how inconveniencing it is for others that I can't drive, especially with where I live (public transport really isn't a regular or widespread thing), but I'd prefer to not kill or cripple somebody.

What year did you graduate high school? 2014.

What is the first number of your zip code? Two.

How many of your grandparents are still alive? Zero.

What is your favorite number? Honestly don't really have one. I like the dark myths of the number 13, but I don't have a strong fondness for it or anything.

How many kids do you want? IF I have children, I can't visualize a world where I have more than two.

How many apartments have you lived in? As an official, legal resident, zero, but basically two.

What age do people say you look? Very early 20s. Actually the artist who did my new tattoo thought I was like, literally 19 lmfao thanks I guess

Do you feel like your family accepts you for who you are? For the most part. I'm confident my mom fully does, but idk about the others.

Do you feel like your friends accept you for who you are? Yes. I have more liberty in picking my friends; if my friends that I choose aren't willing to accept me, uh bye, our "friendship" is a waste of time.

Who is the best doctor you’ve ever had? The psychiatrist that very literally turned my life around when I began my partial hospitalization program. I stayed with him for many years until insurance made it so I could no longer see him. This is actually what resulted in me being hospitalized again last March; I was so devastated and scared of leaving the ONE mental health professional that REALLY made a difference for me that I became suicidal again. He is an incredible professional with what seemed like a totally unending well of medical knowledge. In the same hospital, when I did the PHP a second time, the therapist that most regularly worked with me was my favorite I've ever had as well; I totally desperately wanted to stay with him once the program was over, but sadly he worked exclusively in that. I wanna emphasize I've been seeing psychiatrists and therapists since the 7th grade (who are around 12 or 13, and I'm 27 now), like I've seen SO FUCKING MANY, so calling you my favorite carries an insane amount of weight.

Have you ever been flipped off by a random stranger? Yes actually, while driving. It was a truck of teenage boys and when they (illegally) passed, multiple of them stuck their hand out the window to do it. My mom was fucking furious lmao, she did it right back.

Do you have a lot of people blocked on Facebook? Not many that I have a personal problem against; most are actually people my mother has asked me to block for a variety of reasons so they have no tabs on my family's lives. Then there's random people who've sent random suspicious or gross messages.

Do you consider yourself spiritual? To a degree. Like I do believe some sort of soul/"essence" of us exists, but that's the end of it. I know nothing about that realm or even if it really exists at all, and I worship nothing or hold nothing as truly holy or whatever.

Do you consider yourself religious? Absolutely not.

Are you afraid of spiders? No, not really; I actually love spiders, especially tarantulas, but I'm not going to pretend that if a big spider just randomly went down my arm I wouldn't freak out for a second, just because I hadn't been expecting it and most of my life I was scared of spiders, so the instinct to be startled is still there.

Are you afraid of snakes? I absolutely adore snakes with all my heart.

Does everyone in your family know your sexual orientation? Not exactly; I think everyone knows I like men and women, but I'm sure there are family members who'd still call me bi because they don't know I later realized I was really pan, AND I know there are a number who don't even know what pansexuality is lmao.

What is one thing you find offensive? Using the word "retarded" to insult someone's intelligence. My respect for you will fucking PLUMMET.

Do you often post about politics on social media? I share lots of political posts, yes.

Would you ever want to go back to school? I just can't do that. I've dropped out three times already, I can't keep pouring money straight down the drain.

What are three things you are naturally good at? Writing, bonding with animals, and I suppose seeing things in an artistic way?

What are three things you are NOT naturally good at? Socializing/talking confidently, asking for help (this does depend though), and thinking more with my head than my heart.

Is your dream to get married and have kids? No, my dream is to be happy with and proud of myself and feel like I made even a tiny difference in the world. I'd be bummed if I never do get married, but it's not my dream.

Where do you hang your towel to dry after showering? It goes in the laundry basket.

If you were the opposite sex, how would you style your hair? Idk, it'd very likely depend on how I look as a whole. I do know I love guys with long hair though, so I'd probably at least have longer hair... maybe. Part of the reason I keep mine short now is because I was bad at brushing it even nearly enough, so I'd probably have that problem as a man too.

Last person you hugged? It was either Girt, his mom, or his sister before leaving his place on Saturday.

How is the weather right now? It's sunny and WAY too motherfucking hot; my weather app says 86*F right now, disgusting.

Are you missing someone? I miss Girt really bad.

What is the wallpaper on your cell phone? Lock screen is artwork of Till Lindemann with the "Engel" wings prop, home screen is insanely cute meerkat artwork.

What do you have handy at your bedside? A lamp. If Girt's staying the night that's also where I put my phone.

What is your dad's middle name? John.

What is your mom's middle name? Marie.

First thing you'll save in a fire? If my mom is in there, I'm making sure she gets out first. If she's not, then I'd probably run and get Venus out of her terrarium first and then immediately look for Roman. I think I'd go for Venus first just because she's in a cage and is also a ball python so she wouldn't be going anywhere and is therefore super easy to find, while I'm sure Roman would probably be frantically running around or like paralyzed in a hiding spot. Really I wouldn't be surprised if Roman found a way out himself if there's an open window or door, being a cat. Deep hatred for this question btw lmao

[timdrake-yumm]

I don’t understand why, in dubbing someone the “best robin,” some must prove they are right by putting down the other robins. Like, I love Tim Drake, and I personally consider him the “best robin,” but that doesn’t mean I don’t love the other batboys (and Steph)! None of the batfam are perfect, so pointing out your non-favorite robins flaws doesn’t make them the best robin; there isn’t a way to prove one better than the rest, because it’s all a matter of opinion. And sure, maybe your “best robin” isn’t your favorite robin (though I’m sure that’s a rare occasion), but that means you’re just measuring who Robin is differently than someone who has a different “best robin.”

Dick Grayson might be your “best robin” because he’s the original! Who could be a better robin than the one who created him? He’s charming and funny. He loves his family and would do almost anything for them. He’s deceptively mischievous in a way that make people mistake him for perfection. He’s charismatic, friendly, and super outgoing! He sees the good in everyone and just wants to protect and save everyone he can. He’s a natural-born leader.

He’s stubborn, bullheaded, and just a tad bit prideful. He internalizes negative emotions because he has to be the best, and the best can’t be anything less than perfect. He doesn’t know how to reach out for help (Did he ever get help and support after Mirage and Tarantula? I don’t actually know the answer to this, but I hope he did because he deserves the love and should be allowed to feel safe). He forgets to let others in on his thought process or decisions, even when they effect other people. He’s intentionally secretive. He’s not the best at compartmentalizing (because compartmentalizing and internalizing are two different things and he only really does one of those). He doesn’t like to admit when he’s wrong (although, who does?) and sometimes pretends that any slight just… never happened in the first place. He has some anger issues. Dick Grayson is not perfect.

Jason Todd might be your “best robin” because who else could know what the people of Gotham truly need more than the boy who grew up in the heart of it? He’s charming in that rugged sort of way; a “bad boy” with a heart of gold. He’s a feminist and loves to read classics! He’s both book-smart and street-smart! He’s just plain smart. He loves to learn and is a protector at heart. He will make you feel like an equal. He’s the Robin that could make Batman smile.

Talk about someone with anger issues! And no, that’s not solely related to the Pit; the whole reason he went off to find his “real mom” is because him and Bruce had been fighting so much (and yes, Bruce isn’t without fault in this, but it takes two to tango). He’s dramatic and paranoid, insecure. He neither internalizes nor compartmentalizes, he just explodes. He’s willing to use others to get at someone else. He’s sometimes a little impulsive. He tunnel-visions hard. He’s obsessive and sometimes he doesn’t care about things as much as he probably should, while other things he just cares too much about. Jason Todd is not perfect.

Tim Drake might be your “best robin” because in a lot of ways, he’s “surpassed” Bruce. He’s a detective born and bred, the Robin who figured out who Batman and Robin were! He’s independent and just the right amount of dorky. He outplayed Ra’s Al Ghul! He’s able to recognize his faults and actively fights to be better. He’s canonically queer! He is a forged leader who knows when and when not to take the lead. He’s quick-witted and thorough, a perfectionist. He a peacemaker who wants everyone to be happy. He just cares a lot. He’s Batman’s perfect partner, the one who compliments him the best. He’s the one who saved Batman when no one believed he needed saving.

This boy is more secretive than Batman; his secrets have secrets. He doesn’t 100% understand the concept of “forgive and forget,” AKA he holds onto pain like it’s the only thing he knows. He internalizes and goes in a downward spiral. He can be a little bit people-oblivious, yet at the same time extremely manipulative. He’s simultaneously insecure and egotistical (and yes, that’s possible). He’s obsessive in an almost creepy manner. He doesn’t know how to let go once something has caught his interest, and he neglects that which doesn’t have his interest. He has a deep-seated need to be perfect. He’s always working for his own agenda. Tim Drake is not perfect.

Stephanie Brown might be your “best robin” because oh my gosh, girl power! She’s funny and friendly, and pretty dang well-adjusted. She’s Barbara Gordon’s protégé. She’s clever and the best kind of mischievous. You look at the twinkle in her eye, and you just know that whatever happens next, it’s going to be the best time you’ve ever had. I’m pretty sure Batman is afraid of her. You know you’ll always have a good time when she’s around. Shes a people-person. She’s the Robin who makes you trust her.

She’s impulsive and doesn’t always think things through; she sometimes hurts those she loves without meaning to. She forgets there are consequences to her actions. She doesn’t really know when to quit. She doesn’t always take things seriously when they need to be. She doesn’t really know how to think on her feet very well. Stephanie Brown is not perfect.

Damian Wayne might be your “best robin” because that’s what he’s been training for his whole life! He’s loyal and protective. He’s a huge animal lover (and they love him back)! He’s always trying to improve himself and be the best that he can be. He’s a skilled warrior who looks up to his dad in an almost idolized fashion. He’s an artist. He’s the Robin who tries (and I am so looking forward to watching him grow).

He’s hotheaded and proud. He doesn’t know how to admit his faults, and lashes out at others when he feels inadequate in any way. He has a driving need to be superior than those around him. He doesn’t know how to connect with people and doesn’t really try to do so either. The only emotions he knows how to express are those that are negative. He’s undoing years of League brainwashing and abuse. He doesn’t know how to listen and often thinks he knows what’s best. He’s disrespectful to those he thinks of as beneath him at the best of times, and outright hostile at the worst. Damian Wayne is not perfect.

And why would you want them to be perfect? If they’re perfect, they’re unattainable and unrelatable. You don’t get to watch as they learn and grow and become better people. You don’t get to watch as they change what society as a whole might consider a “flaw” into a strength. There’s no reason to fight over which robin is the best because they’re all the best at their own, unique, individual thing (Watch me just add more synonyms). They made robin their own. Look, we like characters because we see something in them that reminds us of ourselves, so maybe instead of criticizing someone for their favorite character (in anything), you learn who they are as a person and see it reflected in that character.

Tim Drake is my favorite character for a lot of reasons, and all of them at their core can be lead back to how I see myself- flaws and strengths in equal volume. I may joke and say that he is the best, no contest, but I can always appreciate when someone doesn’t see everything the same way I do.

There are probably a hundred other strengths and weaknesses that I could add to any of the robins; these are just a handful that came to my head while writing this rant. I acknowledge that some of the things I put may be influenced by my own biased perspective, and may not even have any proper proof of actually being one of their characteristics (I’m too lazy to look for proof, especially since I am currently not where all my comics are, these are all just based on how I visualize each character in my head). I hope my whole point came across clearly, and that you understand what I was trying to say. Honestly, if you’ve made it this far, thank you for reading!

TD-Y

[entities-of-posts]

cw misgendering , long post //

[ the statement is scrawled in a messy half-cursive, its writer – a tall man who hasn’t shaved in a few days, with the business card of a familiar casino sticking out of his pocket – is clearly in a hurry. he must’ve taken a form and filled it in at home, meaning minimal time spent in the Archives. yet he keeps glancing at the doors.. a cursory Look reveals anxiety tangled like black soot at the forefront of his mind – most curling into the shape of a young girl, another substantial mass of it centred on his overdue bills for the month. when he hands it to you, his arm shakes; but he still manages a polite nod as he exits the building. ]

Statement of Marcus Meier regarding the May 2nd disappearance of his six-year-old daughter. Statement given May 17th, 2022. Statement begins.

+++

You have to believe me. I had nothing to do with it. I would never, ever do anything against my own child, and what’s more is I know who really did take her. The police would never believe me, but I know – I know – that that smug little slip of a kid from the casino had something to do with it. In the end, it’s all my fault, really.

Please don’t misunderstand me; I’m not a deadbeat dad or anything of the sort, no matter what my ex-wife will tell you. Even though I lost the custody battle, I still did – do – all I could to ensure Caitlyn’s weekends with me were the best money could afford. Whatever she wanted to do, whatever she wanted to eat or whatever shiny plastic toy she wanted; I wasn’t hesitant to pull out my wallet when my time with her was so limited. And that’s saying a lot, when money has become such a problem for me recently.

I work as a journalist for a pretty big state paper, so I’m always on the ground. It’s pretty rare to get a day off in this line of work, especially since the pay can get unreliable, to say the least; so when I do, I like to go all out with leisure. As the years have passed, I’ve found bars and clubs to be less and less enjoyable, so I began looking for an alternative – which I found in gambling. Maybe it’s destructive, but I’ve never found anything else so easy that brings the same rush. I was always careful never to spend too much. Never to bet more than I could afford. All things considered, I thought I was doing well; at least until I stumbled upon that damned casino. It was quaint, tucked away. There shouldn’t have been any reason to scope it out, but my regular place had closed down for renovations and I had found myself wandering the city aimlessly in my downtime. I’d never heard of it before, but it wasn’t as if it was too late to back out and find something else to do if I changed my mind, so I shrugged and stepped inside.

I’m not kidding when I say the interior looked like a kid threw up all over it. Rainbow barf and all. There were gaudy spider decorations strewn all over the place, hanging plastic tarantulas and white webbing forming curtains of cotton, blinking coin machines and themed merchandise, business cards at the reception which were perhaps the only professional thing about the place. There was someone sitting behind the reception humming a quiet tune to themselves, and LEDs lining the cornice areas, set to a deep red that for whatever reason called the word ‘blood’ to my mind.

What caught my attention the most was the fact that it was completely empty of customers. Aside from the receptionist, not a single person in there at five in the afternoon. It wasn’t just odd; it was disquieting. I wasn’t sure whether to feel surprised or disappointed.

I cleared my throat, and the person behind the reception jumped and sat up straighter. I was immediately alarmed, of course, upon seeing her face and realising she was just a child; only a few years older than my own daughter! She was, i think, fourteen or fifteen, maybe Korean or something: dressed in a ridiculous getup that somehow matched the rest of the casino’s decor. I started asking where her parents were, who in their right mind even allowed her into the building and where the real receptionist was, but she just shook her head and told me the ‘parlour was closed’ and to come back later.

I told her well, clearly, if she wasn’t going to comply, I would simply have to go to the police and have them contact her parents. All wishes of high-stakes thrills had completely evaporated by now, mind you – there was absolutely no way I would ever support an establishment that tempted mere children into financial ruin. I was dead serious, ready to turn on my heel and leave, but the girl just rolled her eyes. I remember what she said very clearly. “If you can afford it,” she’d said, dismissing me with a wave of her hand.

I’m a pretty gracious guy, I’m sure everyone will tell you. I was willing to let this kid off easy, and made my way down to the station as promised. They agreed to send someone down to check it out, but by the time we arrived, the front doors had been padlocked and the OPEN sign had been flipped to closed. The officer with me apologised, but explained that without a warrant there wasn’t really anything they could do besides check for the kid’s parents. It wasn’t what I wanted, but I figured at least it would give the owner, whoever it was, a good scare and prompt them not to allow unsupervised children run amok in their premises again. When he was gone, I glanced briefly up at the second-story of that parlour, and nearly stumbled back when I spotted that girl in one of the windows. Staring at me. Not moving at all. She…beckoned. For me to come up. Unsettled, I got out of there as fast as I could.

For whatever reason, I didn’t sleep well that night. I think I must’ve been having trouble breathing.

Still, the next day was a Saturday, which was when Caitlyn came over. I took her out for the day and did my best to ignore how close we were to that damn parlour. Those few hours were the happiest I’ve ever seen her, ice-cream cone in one hand and pointing out every pigeon we saw with the other. Cait's always loved birds of all kinds; anything to do with the wide open sky, I suppose. She was having such a good time I didn’t even see the clouds gathering above us, and we had to run to make it to the bus stop before the sky broke. I was so preoccupied with keeping her from the rain, I didn’t even see who else was waiting there.

This time, she wasn’t wearing the gaudy makeup and uniform of the parlour, which was a small mercy, I suppose. I didn’t want Caitlyn thinking those kinds of things were acceptable. She was propping an umbrella over one shoulder and smiling wide. She said she didn’t expect to see me here, and asked if this was my kid, crouching down to coo a greeting at Caitlyn. I instinctively pulled her away and told her to mind her own business, informing her quite politely that I wouldn’t allow disreputable people like her to associate with my daughter.

She actually laughed at that. It was…mean-sounding, for lack of a better word. Harsh and unrelenting, going on for much too long. She told me it was okay if that was how I wanted it. “But,” she added, “aren’t you also that kind of disreputable person, Mr. Meier?”

I’m ashamed to admit I froze. She seemed somehow different now, watching me closely. I was reminded a little of how a cat watches its prey, trapped under that oppressive gaze, unable to move or even breathe.

And then she nodded. Said something about how…how she’d figured out what my payment was going to be. I asked her what the hell she was talking about, and she explained, in very simple terms, that I’d apparently caused quite a bit of trouble for the parlour the night before. That she had warned me I wouldn’t be able to afford it. It was odd, but at the time I realised she still hadn’t blinked.

Somehow, I managed to summon my voice. I wasn’t sure how she’d found out my name, but I wasn’t going to be intimidated by some prep school delinquent with bad parentage. I was going to take my daughter and get out of there, and she was to leave us the hell alone. I was not going to have the one weekend I received with her ruined.

The girl just smiled and lifted her umbrella. Twirled it in her hands and winked conspiratorially at Caitlyn before stepping past me and continuing on her way. She patted me on the shoulder as she passed, and her hand felt…You probably will assume this is sleep deprivation, but it felt wrong. Rough and far too heavy for someone of her stature, knocking the air out of my lungs. Whatever was underneath her skin, it wasn’t flesh. I know it. I turned, coughing what was probably the rest of my trachea out, demanding or trying to demand an explanation; when I heard a cracking sound from behind me. A voiced cracking, like a baritone yawn. She didn’t even scream.

When I came to, the girl was gone. So was Caitlyn. I stood there numbly, watching the ground where she’d been, as the 4:30 bus rolled up. It wasn’t that I had no reaction; I couldn’t. It was as if my mouth was glued shut. And the worst part?

Even as my legs carried me up its steps involuntarily and into an empty seat behind a blonde teenager with horrid raccoon eyeliner, even as I rode all the way home; still that choking lack of air did not recede.

I don’t understand. I’ve played the security footage hundreds of times. Run through what happened with the police hundreds of times. I can’t sleep for the choking gets worse. I can’t focus without worrying over where she is. Each time turns up nothing. It’s as if she just vanished.

And in all the tapes, from the shop across the street from the parlour to the convenience store behind the bus stop, none of them show a girl with a heart painted over her eye.

…There’s one more thing, before I fill the rest of this up with pleading for you to do whatever you can to find my daughter and stifle my ex-wife’s hysteria. I received a business card in the mail not too long ago. It's definitely the casino I went to. I’ll leave it with you if it’s any help.

+++

[ lying on top of the form is a black and white business card with the silhouette of a spider’s web set in the centre of an archway. the details provided to its left are all too familiar; but what’s interesting is the back. originally blank, someone has treated it like a postcard, filling it out with glittery pink gel pen. it seems you're the only one able to see it, since marcus would've commneted on it. as soon as you finish reading it, its edges curl and the card crumbles to dust in your hand. ]

“CRUMBS FOR YOU + ME ARCHI xoxo HOPE YOU ENJOY I SURE DID”

*the Archivist goes through the statement in silence, quickly realizing who plays the part of its monster - and getting to work absentmindedly striking out and correcting every she to they as it reads* *unease grows in its chest as the man describes his daughter. It doesn’t like dead children. Children trapped hopelessly Forever Deep Below Creation, even less.*

*then it reads the glittery message. Its face stays blank as the Parlor’s business card falls apart into dust like dry mud underfoot - not out of a desire to remain unreadable so much as being unable to figure out how it’s feeling in the first place.* *Mica’s messages certainly seem to have that effect often, lately.*

*1: worry. Always present, in the back or foreground, whenever it thinks of the kid. But it’s not quite the same kind of worry, this time. It’s closer to…* *2: Horror. Not sharp and fearful, but muted and grim; it does not like dead children. Even among avatars, many draw a line at directly targeting kindergartners. Mica’s cheerful lack of a boundary there is… unnerving. And it doesn’t bode well for the future.* *3: fondness. Despite everything, it does like the kid, cares about them deeply, and there’s something just a little reassuring, just a little heartwarming about the fact that they still correspond with it. Even though…* *4: caution. This would not be the first time the Web pulls on its heartstrings. As much as it hopes Mica is still speaking to it just because they want to, it’s very possible that this is a ploy to make sure it keeps caring, keeps being so damn paralyzed by its fear of hurting them if it goes against Madison.*

*it sighs wearily, and goes to file the statement where it belongs.*

[halfmoon-horse]

Apparently so! :D Here we go:

Phoenix:

Phoenix is half-Japanese, half-American, and was born in Japan and lived there until he was around 8. His dad is/was in the US military, and they moved from Japan to California to be closer to his parents (so Nick's grandparents).

His legal name is Ryuuichi Wright, while Phoenix is a nickname that stuck. Orrr he picked a ~Western~ name when they moved to Cali and 8yo him wouldn't be convinced otherwise, he thought it sounded cool. (It does.)

Alternatively I also see his full name as being Phoenix Anthony Wright. I have no basis for this, I just like the sound of it, but it doesn't fit my mixed race hc.

(Also his dad being a US citizen means that Phoenix with darker skin still fits! Hooray for melding pots!)

Oh and obviously he's bilingual.

And Ryosuke is his ancestor on his mother's side.

He had no friends before the class trial incident because he joined the class/school less than a year ago and kept to himself. He was picked on in Japan for being different (appearance, accent, etc) and was scared of the same thing happening in America. Then no one (at first) had his corner over the lunch money :( Poor lamb.

He is very patient, more so than most people, but I believe that this guy has a temper when he finally snaps. Like punch a wall and split his knuckles temper. (May or may not have been inspired by him smashing a glass window in the anime's 3rd opening (the best opening).)

When he does lose it, he's more likely to throw objects or hit stuff than lash out at another person, even if it means he gets hurt. The incident with Doug Swallow scared him shitless, even though shoving him didn't cause his death.

But he would murder if anyone harmed Trucy :) Well, maybe not, but he'd genuinely consider it. Fantasize about it, even. This guy has a dark side, folks.

Edgeworth:

Raised entirely by his father after his mother died in childbirth. That's right - he believes he killed BOTH his parents >:D But obviously wasn't his fault, it was some extremely rare and unfortunate complication.

Alternatively, I LOVE the family tree in the fanfic Turnabout: Bloodlines. Spectacular. A thousand chef's kisses 👌

He gets eczema on his hands when he's particularly stressed, and keeps moisturiser and steroid cream in his desk drawer. Yes I'm projecting.

When he gets home from work Pess comes to greet him and jumps up. He not only lets her, but kneels down so she can lick his face and 90% of the time the inside of his mouth. Then he goes in to kiss Phoenix and wonders why he ducks away. (Phoenix soon forgets. One time he found one of Pess' hairs in his own mouth... Don't think about it.)

I get big competitive ballroom dancing vibes from this man. Maybe Von Karma had him and Franziska compete as a sibling dance couple. There is at least one trophy in his house, though not on display.

Post-AA4 he teaches Phoenix to drive and has several heart attacks in the process.

Others (I don't have many yet so I combined them):

Trucy would love an exotic pet like a snake or tarantula, but they're pushing their luck with a rabbit. Phoenix uses the landlord as an excuse, says they won't let them, but really he's scared of [insert animal].

Maya runs a food blog comparing burger restaurants in LA, and over the years expands to pizza and noodles. She doesn't update it regularly since she doesn't have internet in Kurain, but each time she visits Phoenix it's a chance to try somewhere new and post a review via the office computer. No one knows her online identity, except Nick, but she's known as the Burger Queen in foodie circles. It's a good side hustle to support the village.

Though she acts childish (I know we meet her at 17 but bear with me), she actually uses humour and immaturity to hide how afraid and insecure she is. This girl has lost so many people in her life: her sister, mother, presumably her father, her aunt, cousins she didn't know she had... She's terrified of losing anyone or anything else. She also wants to shield Pearl from extra unnecessary grief.

Does... does anyone want to hear my headcanons for Ace Attorney characters? 👉👈

[starlightae]

I have a crush on you - JJK

Pairing: Jungkook x reader

Genre: Assassin Au, eventual smut.

Word count:1.519k

Warnings: Fluff...

Summary: is whatever you want it to be :)

Author’s note: I don’t know what this is, but I hope you enjoy this one-shot. Let me know if it’s good enough for a part 2 or something. I will highly appreciate feedback 💜 Have a marvelous day-week-month-year💜love ya💜

                           ----------------------------------------------------

Biting into your pen cap, you gaze at him like a raven would their prey. His face glistens with sweat, glowing underneath the soft kisses of the sun's rays that are coming through the window. His moves are like water, graceful and free. Almost as if he were dancing, and the sword was his partner. Jimin strikes at Jungkook with such force you hear the swoosh of his sword ripping through the air. Jungkook moves fast and in a lunge position, he blocks it, pushing Jimin back. Up... down... middle, their swords move in swift motions, trying hard to hit one another. 

“Y/N!” Hoseok shouts from behind you, and you jump, the dented pen cap falling from your lips as your brother appears in front of you. His uniform clinging to his body like glue, his face flushed a deep red. He crosses his arms across his chest and glares at you. The atmosphere suddenly feels heavy, the clanking of the swords, the voices of those speaking around you now sounded distant. Your heart pounds in your chest as you stare at the open notebook in front of you, the word I’m staring back at you mockingly. 

Was that all you’ve written for the past 30 minutes you've been here?

“Are you finished?” he asks coldly, and you lower your head down in shame. From the corner of your eye, you see Luna and Minji laughing at you. You huff, fidgeting with the silver band on your middle finger, trying your hardest to avoid his fiery gaze. 

Why was he even angry with you? When it was his idea to make you write your apology letter in the sword room, of all places. Just because he wanted to make sure you were doing it. As if he was going to be paying attention to you while a ruthless Namjoon charged toward him with a sword.

The paper would have been finished already,if only you were in your room or at the library anywhere that was far away from Jungkook. Which was honestly the sole reason why you only had one word written. 

“No,” you mumble, squeezing your eyes shut as you prepare yourself to be scolded. None of this made sense! He should be proud that during your 17 years of being an assassin, you've only had to write one of these letters. It wasn’t your fault that you suddenly felt a rush of kindness during your mission and decided to eliminate your target with a bullet to the head instead of drowning them.

-All you wanted was to give them a less painful death, even though you knew it went against Act IX of the assassin's rule book. Which in simple terms said that everyone had to follow the orders exactly how the council gives them to you or else you die.

 No one has died yet, but making you write apology letters was torture in and of its self.

“Babe, how do you expect her to do it in here, there are too many distractions?’' You hear Luna say and you open your eyes, your savior has come.

Taking a peek up at Hobi, you see his cold facial features soften as Luna wraps her arms around his shoulders and gives him a peck on the lips. That then turned into a full-out make-out session in front of your poor and innocent eyes. You scrunch up your nose in disgust and look away, your eyes landing on the glowing exit sign in the far corner of the room. The glass door underneath it wide open and calling your name. Hoseok clears his throat and you break eye contact with the door and look at him. A gummy smile has now overtaken his lips and you try your best not to laugh. Small wisps of air start to hit your face and you furrow your brows when you see Luna’s hand flickering back and forth in front of you. Was she shooing you away?You ask yourself as you look up at her not understanding what she was doing,

“Go finish it somewhere quiet,” She says sweetly and her hand falls back to her side. Ah... so she was shooing you away.

Luna didn’t even need to tell you twice when you were already standing up from your chair and pushing your notebook, pen, and chewed-up pen cap back into your bag. A small smile creeps its way onto your face as images of your ice cream inside the cold smokey freezer flash before your eyes. 

You quickly zip up your bag as you just couldn’t wait to go home, finally.

“By the time I get home, I hope to see the letter on my desk or I won’t tell you where I hid your ice cream?”

You freeze, your nails sinking into the leather material of your backpack, did you hear him right? 

“M-My chocolate fudge brownie ice cream?” you stutter and he nods.

“Are you serious, Hobi? Do you know I have 5 days to turn this in… but don’t worry,” a low growl escapes your lips as you continue, “I’ll have it done by today but I warn you that if my ice cream is melted, disfigured, or empty as a sick joke... I will put Ember on top of your face while you sleep,” You exclaim, watching how his face contorts with fear at the mention of your pet tarantula’s name. He shakes his head slightly, his hands balling into fists and you knew he was recounting the incident that went down last week. The one where Ember crawled onto his lap while we were watching Haikyu and he almost passed out. How mom had to splash water onto his face and I had to put Ember back in the safety of her cage to get him to calm down.

It was strange that Hobi was afraid of spiders, as he was always so cold and fearless. But you guess everyone was afraid of something.

“You see babe, you made her mad,” Luna mumbles, and without giving him a second glance you push your bag over your shoulder and focus on getting to the door. 

How could he hide your ice cream? You grumble at no one as you maneuver your way through a growing crowd that was gathering around one of the training rings. You don’t bother turning around as your only priority right now was to get home and find your ice cream. But suddenly the crowd erupts into shouts as the clanking of swords become rather intense. You stop in your footsteps, the exit just a few feet away. But you just couldn’t miss out on a good training session that possibly turned into a fight. Adrenaline courses through your veins at the thought of it being a fight and as you turn around ready to join the crowd. 

Something hits you like a train coming at full speed and you groan as your body comes in contact with the cold floor. You feel your backpack ride up your back, saving your head before it touches the ground.

Everything becomes silent as you try to assimilate what was happening, but the room had become dark and you couldn't see a thing. “Who turned off the lights?... what happened?” you hear multiple voices say in the darkness. Your breathing is shallow and you wince when you feel a heavy body on top of yours, crushing at your lungs, their elbows digging into your abdomen.

You try to move your arms that were stuck at your side but you couldn’t as the more you tried to move the heavier the body got. The bitter scent of blood fills your nose and you freeze,

“Was their a dead person on top of you?”

You feel a warm breath hit the nape of your neck, tickling your baby hairs and a shiver runs down your spine, the person was alive.

“I never thought this was the way, I would introduce myself to you Y/N,” a voice you’ve heard before whispers, and your eyes widen...Jungkook? This couldn't be true, this must be a dream, Jungkook wasn’t crushing your body at this moment. And amid the darkness, that is when you see it...his glowing eyes. Eyes that are always full of wonder and mystery.

You hear frantic voices echoing off the walls of the room, some shouting at others to turn the lights back on as others rush to get their cellphones. His soft lips graze the crook of your neck and you stiffen. Your body feels hot and the butterflies in your stomach weren’t helping.

Your holding your breath, your heart pounding loudly in your chest, as you’ve never been this close to him.

He plants a wet kiss right above your collarbone, “I’ve always had a crush on you,” He says and with that, he lifts himself off of your aching body just as bright lights burn into your corneas. You close your eyes and stay there frozen on the ground. His words gnawing at your insides as you couldn't comprehend what he had just said, this must be a dream.

[weasleydream]

Let me kiss you hard in the pouring rain

Hi guys! Hope you’re okay!

We’re up for some Georgie imagine! It’s short, it’s cute, just how we love it!

You can notice the title is from a fucking good song of Lana del Rey (i have to admit i’m quite obsessed with Born to die and I think it won’t be the last time i’ll use it)

Just for information, I think the next imagine will be a Charlie one!

I just have to wish you all a happy pride month and to enjoy this!

Masterlist

There was a time where I used to help Fred and George with all of their pranks. I was their helper: I would watch Filch or spread the rumor that something was going to happen in front of the Slytherin common room. However, things changed as soon as I started to date George. The twins didn’t ask for my help anymore, obviously preferring to be alone. I didn’t understand why, all of sudden, they didn’t accept my presence anymore, but I never really asked them. My fault, I suppose. 

Today was one of those off days for us where our favourite pranksters would annoy random people in the castle. I had told them I would be in the common room, but all the students that stayed in there were way too loud and I couldn’t be focused. The afternoon was almost over when I decided to go to the library and I was joined by Lee on the way. Lee and I had always gotten along pretty well, except maybe when he had put his tarantula in my hair. I had never screamed louder than this day. However, our friendship could seem strange to whoever watched it: always false-flirting with each other, winking and making embarrassing comments. That changed too  when I started dating George. But we were still friends, and currently racing in the corridors in order to go to the library. Little did I know my boyfriend was hiding with his twin in a nearby cupboard, waiting for their next victim to receive a bucket of Bubotuber pus diluted enough to not be painful on the face. 

I was slightly in front of Lee when something slimy with an awful smell covered my face. I screamed, more in surprise than pain, but I had a very strange sensation and when I touched my face, I felt plenty of blisters. Lee was checking on me, both worried and laughing. 

“You look pretty with that Y/N.”

“Shut up!”

I was looking for them. Of course I knew who was behind this horrible prank, and I was right because soon George arrived, followed by his brother, an irritating guilty look on his face. 

“Y/N, I’m sorry, are you okay?” 

I grumbled something while looking at my parchment, when my potion essay was almost finished and completely burnt. George took his wand and my essay was as good as new. He also applied something on my face and a pleasant sensation of freshness made me sigh slightly. 

“I’m sorry” he murmured, “but you shouldn’t have been here and -”

“So it’s my fault now?” I was a bit angry.

“No, of course not, but you told me you would be in the common room and I didn’t expect you to move.”

“Well, if you had told me about this poor excuse of a prank maybe I wouldn’t be here!” 

That was the point of no return. I was frustrated, he was hurt, and soon we were yelling awful things to each other, things we didn’t even mean - for my part, anyway. The only truth in all my mean words was that I was hurt he had rejected me when it came to the pranks. But George, did he really mean it when he told everyone thought I was cheating on him with Lee? I had never heard of such a thing, and by the look and the latter’s face, it seemed like he was in the same position as me. 

“Nothing happened, mate, I prom -”

“Shut the fuck up!” 

George was infuriated. In fact, I had never seen him like this. He was always the calmer twin, the slightly more reserved one, but right now, he was very angry. I was now silent, only listening to him, catching a few words in his speech. Cheating. Your fault. Selfish. Mistake.

I had heard enough of this. It took all my will to stay silent and turn tail, but when he grabbed my wrist telling me he wasn’t done, I lost it and slapped him. George was shocked, I was shocked, Fred and Lee were shocked, and if the situation hadn’t been that awful, it would have been funny, but I just ran without asking for my rest. I considered heading straight to the dorm and sleep until the end of the year, but I didn’t want anyone to bother me. Plus, I would have to cross the crowded common room and someone would see my tears. No, not a good idea. I decided to hide in Moaning Myrtle’s bathroom. I locked myself hidden from the others’ view and let my sadness invade me. The worse thing in all of this was that George was right. I was a horrible girlfriend, and all of this was my fault. My tears were rolling and soaking my shirt, and my sobs echoed Myrtle’s ones in a heartbreaking melody. Exhausted, I eventually fell asleep. 

When I woke up and noticed the morning sun, my very first thought was for my sore back, and the second one was for the Quidditch match that was going to begin at any moment. I ran to the field. The team was anxiously waiting for me and Wood urged me to slip into my Quidditch robe. I felt George’s glare on my back and the tears slowly made their way back, but I couldn’t let them fall. Not before the match, not in front of George. I swallowed and followed everyone, waiting for our entrance behind the twins because I was a chaser.

I didn’t know what I expected from George during the match. Being a beater, his job was to protect us from the bludgers. After what I had done to him, I thought he would have ignored me, or sent me himself a bludger in the face. I deserved it, really, but he didn’t do anything like that. Instead, he stuck around me, letting Fred ensuring the others’ security alone most of the time. Even if I tried to not listen to it, I found out Lee’s comment was boring. No jokes, no funny comments, no insults towards the Slytherins, nothing. If I could have watched, I would have seen that even McGonagall was looking at him in disbelief. 

The game was foul, as usual when we played against Slytherin, but things hardened when a pouring rain started to fall. We couldn’t see anything around us. The twins couldn’t see the bludgers anymore and while I was heading towards the adversary’s loops, I received my third one in less than fifteen minutes. It hit me in the shoulder and, gasping in surprise, I let the Quaffle go. Worse, another bludger, or so I thought, arrived immediately after the first one and hit the back of my head. Everything went black as I was falling from my broom. 

When I opened my eyes, I saw plenty of faces above me, but I couldn’t identify who was who. I caught a glimpse of red hair and murmured:

“George…”

“Wrong one, Y/N.” Fred answered. “Georgie is beating up the guy who hit you with his bat.”

I immediately tried to stand up, but four pair of hands maintained me on the floor. Fred told me I had to wait until Madam Pomfrey’s arrival, but first, the mud was freezing, and second, I could now hear George shouting and the typical noises of a fight. I ignored the people surrounding me and stood up. Fred caught me when I faltered and whispered into my ear:

“Go see him.”

He let me go and I stumbled towards George. He was, indeed, on the top of a Slytherin beater and punching him constantly. No one dared to approach him, no one except me. I kneeled behind him and put my hands on his shoulders. George immediately stopped and got up so quickly that I fell on my arse. He helped me and looked straight into my eyes while holding my hands. None of us spoke. I had plenty of things to tell him, the first one and more important being that I was sorry. Sorry for being awful and selfish. Sorry for the slap. Sorry for everything. But I couldn’t say it, because I was worried he wouldn’t listen to me or reject me. 

I didn’t expect him to kiss me, but he did. A passionate kiss, angry and loving all at once. We were soaked because it was still raining, but we didn’t care. My hands were in his hair, tenderly pulling them. George was moaning lowly, and I joined him when he bit gently my lower lip. This kiss, it was our way to say sorry and I love you. 

This time, I heard Lee’s comment.

“It was about time! Look at them, cute, aren’t they? Yeah Georgie, grab her -”

“LEE!”

“Sorry professor.”

[bigskydreaming]

I’m still laughing my ass off over that one post that was going around a week ago with the fanon depictions of the Batboys vs more canon-accurate depictions, and the various ‘defenses’ people leaped to for why fanon is so much better, and its just like....yawn.

See, its not like fanon can’t be better, and isn’t better with some characters, its not that it can’t ADD nuance.

None of that’s the problem.

The problem is when people ONLY use it to DETRACT nuance and then are like ‘wow, whats the problem, whats the issue.’

Let’s take for instance the infamous matter of Dick’s alleged asshole behavior to Jason back when the latter was Robin, because of Dick’s issues with Bruce at the time.

Here’s the thing - even though that’s not what happened, it IS a fairly plausible examination of what could have happened, so its not like there’s no reasoning or justification whatsoever in exploring it. Its that....its not ever explored. Its just used to one-side a situation and render Dick unsympathetic while Jason’s propped up as having been victimized by him and Bruce is largely kept off-stage entirely.

But because quite frankly we just didn’t see much of their interactions back then, period, theoretically, adding more conflict in this vein still COULD have fleshed out that time period and added nuance every bit as much as my preferred additions of more positive interactions between them.

But people don’t add in these conflicts simply to add nuance, they add them in just to add BLAME.

The fanon isn’t the problem there. What you do with the fanon and why is the problem.

Its like my issues with the Jason-Kori-Roy friendship. It’d be one thing if Roy and Kori’s presence in Jason’s life was used to PUSH BACK against Jason’s belief that Dick hated him or didn’t mourn him or even just to provide more understanding or context about Dick’s position or side of things at the time to Jason when he gripes about him, so he’s a little more inclined to be understanding of what that was like for his brother thanks to the viewpoints of people whose POV he values and who in turn have always valued Dick’s POV and position in things. 

But instead everything about the years of sympathy and understanding and insight Roy and Kori have always had for and in regards to Dick are flushed down the drain in order to have them join in with Jason when it comes to bashing and griping about that asshole Dick Grayson. Once again....perfect opportunity to add more nuance and complexity to a situation and a character dynamic, with it almost universally being pounced on to provide the reverse...to TAKE AWAY even MORE nuance and complexity from a situation by erasing anything and everything Roy and Kori might actually feel about what’s being said or believed of this other person they have a history of valuing a great deal.

Or like I was just saying earlier today about how its almost completely forgotten or erased that Dick was shot in the head upon Bruce’s return from the timestream, and was in an eminently sympathetic/hurt position for Bruce and Tim and others to come together around and put aside their own invididual resentments at least for the time being, in order to support Dick throughout an extremely dangerous and debilitating wound and recovery period. The issue with erasing, ignoring or invalidating Dick’s many traumas isn’t that ‘oh we just don’t like all the characters angsting 24/7, sometimes its too much, we like fanon happy-go-lucky Dick because he’s different,’ its like.....lol no, because if you’re still capable of and looking to rip into that depiction of Dick for....get this....not being able to get/grasp/empathize with the kinds of and degrees of trauma you still uphold for all the others, you’re really just looking to make him look unsympathetic in comparison, and shift focus away from their LACK of support and understanding for him when he really justifiably needs it in order to keep that focus instead on their contempt or bitterness for him no matter what else SHOULD have been taking place for him at the same time.

For example....going back to the Dick and Jason’s early years scenario.....I talk all the time about the Brother Blood situation, but guess what else that situation has? A time frame that’s pretty directly applicable to this Dick and Jason enmity scenario so many of you posit, given that the first two times the Church of Blood had Dick captive and were literally said to have released him back into the world secretly under their control....he was still Robin! And the third time, when he finally broke free thanks to the others (and Jason) rescuing him, it was only then that he was Nightwing. Meaning all of that is PERFECTLY positioned to be a fantastic and compelling additional underlying cause of Dick’s alleged early issuers/grievances with Jason.....the same mental turmoil that led to him lashing out against the other Titans like Donna in that infamous fight, could just as easily be said to have contributed or even been entirely behind any shitty interactions with Jason you want to posit happening back in the day. 

And look at how tragically dysfunctional that makes all of that instead then....Jason resents Dick for something that ultimately, isn’t actually his fault since he was never lashing out while in sound mind but as an unknowing reaction to a mental battle against conditioning he didn’t even know was there at the time.....and this being a surprise revelation to Jason years later making him mentally reframe all their history, because Dick never said anything about this earlier because due to his guilt complex he felt it would have just been him making excuses or trying to let himself off the hook instead of a valid and understandable added layer of context. 

That’s SO much more compelling and interesting than just a one-sided ‘one brother is an ass to the other for no real reason whatsoever, at leat not one we’re willing to acknowledge as being anymore relevant than a random footnote’.....but the problem isn’t that people go off fanon vs canon, the problem is REGARDLESS of whether people are using fanon or canon, people just don’t WANT Dick’s position in any of these times to be sympathetic or understandable, they want him JUDGED for it, condemned. They’re not TRYING to craft interesting, compelling dynamics or situations, they’re trying to make him the bad guy, always the bad guy, and the other person just unilaterally his unfortunate victim.

Just like with Tim and Red Robin, for all that even when people are like ‘nobody was really at fault/its not like Dick had another option with Damian, etc’ in PRACTICE there’s literally no distinguishing between this take and ones where Dick is just wholly irredeemable for his unforgivable choice, because despite even lip service paid to the idea that Dick had his reasons for what he did, there’s no actual PAY-OUT ever given to the idea that he’s anything less than terrible a brother to Tim for it...like, fanon is never the issue here, its just straight up canon....being willfully picked apart and reframed to make the issue entirely one-sided. 

People pile on all the additional reasons Dick’s terrible for not taking into account Tim’s headspace at the time, like all the other people he’s lost in the last couple years comic book time, but again, at most there’s lip service about how Dick was going through a lot to, but its never added in to any degree that MATTERS or lessens the characters’ or readers’ vilification of him....while at the same time, there’s a willful disregard of and refusal to engage with all the other things and people Dick had lost in the same time frame, comic book time, like oh.....every single thing that happened in Bludhaven with Blockbuster, Tarantula and Deathstroke, given that the former was literally concurrent with Stephanie’s death and the latter right after Jack Drake’s death. 

There’s never allowed any resentment from Dick towards Tim for not giving a single shit about what he was going through at the time, or for assuming he had no idea how to relate to the depth of Tim’s grief as though Dick hadn’t literally gotten a front row seat to his entire city being nuked by Chemo in that exact same time frame, with it still being touted that Dick just didn’t have any understanding or empathy for Tim’s many losses of the time. There’s never any frustration allowed from Dick about how much Tim resents him for making him give up Robin when at the same time, it was Tim and mostly Tim alone who pushed Dick to give up being Nightwing and assume the Batman mantle when even Bruce’s will had expressed to Dick that this was not what he wanted for him. 

Again, never even time or focus given to Dick being shot in the head on Bruce’s return before using that to call in Bruce as reinforcements for Tim yelling ‘how could you do this to me,’ let alone any acknowledgment of the fact that Dr. Hurt, the very same villain that shot Dick in the head there, is the very same villain who had Dick locked up, straitjacketed, drugged up and on the verge of a lobotomy in Arkham for a week just BEFORE Bruce’s assumed death.....because lolol, it’d make people look pretty silly for taking Dick’s one comment about asking if Tim maybe needed to take a break and look after his mental health in Arkham to the extremes they did, if forced to acknowledge that at the time, Arkham was a TOTALLY different proposition due to how extensively Dick was invested in its rebuilding and overseeing its running thanks entirely TO that time, just before Arkham blew up and needed rebuilding from the ground up in Battle for the Cowl....because of the fact that Dick himself had just spent a week locked up and straitjacketed and drugged to the gills and on the verge of a lobotomy thanks to the oh so tender mercies of Dr. Hurt’s accomplices having the run of the place.

Because end of the day, the problem with this fandom and Dick Grayson is not fanon, and its not canon, its fandom. Its the willful DESIRE to not have any minimizing or mitigating context on display ever, so as to only keep the worst possible interpretation of Dick’s actions - either drawn from canon or fanon, whichever is most handy for a particular scenario - front and center. 

So yeah, the idea that fanon adds nuance or context to Dick’s dynamics with any of his family is hilarious, not because it CAN’T, but because too many people are just entirely too unwilling and uninterested in allowing it to, just as they’re uninterested in any interpretation of actual canon that provides Dick with a smidgen of empathy or understanding for his positions or choices.

Like, that’s the POINT of most of your fanon for him. To strip AWAY nuance. So how are you going to be out here acting like you’re really contributing something to his character that canon doesn’t provide, when really, its all the same to you across the board: Dick Grayson is never justified let alone sympathetic ever? 

[popculturebuffet]

The Three Caballeros Ride Again Review!: And Ladies (Ride of the Three Caballeros)

Saludos Amigos! I’m back with yet another comics review! And we’re back on The Ride of the Three Cablleros! Thanks again to WeirdKev27 for commissioning this retrospective. It’s going to get pricey and I greatly appreciate it.  PREVIOUSLY ON RIDE OF THE THREE CABLLEROS 

In short.. a bunch of short segments of varying quality, a very thirsty Donald hitting on ladies, the first appearance of Panchito and some very good music. A fun time was had by all. Along with a LOT OF drugs by the Disney Animators. The film wasn’t a huge success, but out of the 6 package films, it was a fan faviorite alongside the Mr. Toad and Ichabod movie, and thus was rereleased quite a bit, as well as being one of the first of this era to end up on VHS due to it’s cult popularity.  As for Panchito and Jose they’d get plenty of success overseas, with both getting solo series in their respective home countries, Jose himself having just resumed having comics again this year, and being rightfully massive characters. But despite being a hit with fans across the world.. in the US... they were pretty much shoved in the Disney Vault for a few decades. Jose would show up on the Wonderful World of Disney, in it’s various forms, three times after the Three Caballeros while Panchito just vanished aside from reuses of the Three Caballeros footage. Their careers in the US just sorta vanished for a few decades. But as suddenly as they vanished, our boys returned triumphantly. Naturally being the most used out of the duo, Jose would show up for the first time in decades during Mickey Mouseworks, a show full of new late 90′s produced Mickey Mouse shorts, all but two of which would end up being recycled for the much more popular and well loved House of Mouse, which would feature the triumphant return of the Cabs to animation after so long away. We’ll get to that next time, as just a year before the Cabs had already reunited in the pages of Walt Disney’s Comics and Stories in one of Don Rosa’s best loved tales. The Ride of The Three Caballeros was something Don Rosa had wanted to do since he got the job writing Duck Comics in the first place. As he explained in the back of the complete library edition named after this tale, Uncle Keno isn’t the biggest fan of the Donald Theatrical shorts. Having experienced the Carl Barks comics first, and having built his career around them later, he just wasn’t a fan of the goofier, angrier, less nuanced theatrical short Donald, often feeling like he was an entirely different character from the one he loved. And.. honestly he’s not wrong. Both were built for entirely different kinds of comedy: While both did slapstick, Slapstick, along with standard comedy shenanigans, was the main weapon in Shorts Donald’s comedic arsenal. Barksian Donald, while not immune to slapstick, was more like a well built sitcom character: Multi layered, sympathetic when he needs to be, but still having tons of faults to be exploited for laughs and to play off other characters. As a result while I like Donald in the shorts I do prefer Barks version of him, and the shorts Barks did are usually the best of both worlds, combining Donald’s everyman schtick with his slapstick schtick. Of course later cartoons would pick one or the other or combine both, but I do get his point and at the time he wrote this story the only cartoon show starring Donald was.. Quack Pack.. which I can only imagine his reaction to seeing that train wreck. 

But as you can probably guess there was one exception and it was The Three Caballeros. Don genuinely enjoys the beautiful music and the wonderful chemistry the three have. So after a trip to Mexico gave him the perfect setting and the fire in his belly to finally do it, he finally wrote the story. And since they weren’t Barksian characters and hadn’t had any other apperances in decade, Don also took a dive into their comics. Since Jose was more of a fancifial freeloader in his comics, Don decided to ignore this characterization and go with his own based on the film: A latin playboy and lounge singer. And i’m okay with him doing that, as unlike say with Marvel and DC when they destroy a character, Disney characters are both more fluid continuity wise and his is still rooted in a version of the character, and he’s fully accepting and apologetic that some fans hate him for this. Also for some damn reason they redesigned Jose at some point in his Brazil to look like this:

This is far from the dumbest comic book costume change i’ve seen, but it’s certainly one of the most lame, as his original outfit is dapper, stylish and fits the Brazilian version of him well. And it’s not like you CAN’T update the classic Disney characters with modern appearances. Quack Pack, which has somehow come up twice in this review, did so great with Donald and Daisy, giving them new clothes and a haircut in Daisy’s case but both still look great. Same with Goofy for Goof Troop who just wore a dad sweater and bow tie, which puts him in the small but significant club of “Bow Tie Wearing Characters who have defined my life” with Opus the Penguin and the 11th Doctor. You can update a classic character’s’s appearance without coming off like...

Which given Jose’s outfit there is horrifyingly similar, says something. Anyways, Rosa had more use for Panchito’s stories, which had him as a cowboy protecting small towns with the help of his trusty steed Senor Martinez. Rosa loved both aspects and thus used them here, with Martinez getting a makeover to fit Rosa’s style better. Rosa is also the one to popularize Panchito’s last name, having found it on a scrap of research, not realizing the character’s last name was not at all widespread and thus giving him a canon one that has stuck to this day, and sighing in relief when he finally got conformation from another fan this name was indeed something Disney had used after loosing his research scrap.  So with the two boys characters set, a plot set up and a whole sequence planned we’ll talk about on the way “The Three Caballeros Ride Again!” was born. How good is it? Well join me under the cut and i’ll tell you. 

We open in Mexico, specifically near the Barranca Del Cobre, aka The “Copper Canyon” of the Sierra Madre, a natural land formation simlar to the Grand Canyon that Don Rosa saw during his trip and thought would make a great setting. While larger than the Grand Canyon, Rosa figures in his notes it simply isn’t as popular because it’s more isolated than the Grand Canyon and that, combined with it having trees inside distracting from it’s rugged beauty, makes it much harder to build a tourist industry around. The four are headed to El Divisadero, because this comic is determined to kill me with it’s difficult to spell names apparently, where Huey, Dewey or Louie spouts off for no particular reason about the currently being built Chihuahua El Pacifico Railway. Seriously the boys might as well be the security guard from Wayne’s World in this comic, their role for most of their brief page time is just to set up stuff for later. I mean i’m fine with setting up your setting but there are better ways than just spouting off tons of exposition apropos of nothing. 

Donald has driven the boys here for a Woodchuck Jamboree. I did actually look into Jamborees, as before this it only had ever come up in one of my favorite movies of all time, Moonrise Kingdom, and mentioned occasionally in the Ducktales Reboot. Jamboree was first used for a worldwide scouting Jamboree but has gone on to mean a huge gathering of scouts, with the Boy Scouts of America having one every four years, so odds are it’s just a big yearly or quarter yearly thing for the woodchucks. Still it would be nice to see a big gathering like this in the series, especially since several of our cast are involved in them, including the possible power trio of Huey, Violet and Boyd, and Della and Launchpad could easily be slotted into the plot as seen in this season’s premiere.. as could Dewey and Louie if they really want to since according to Frank their members.. they just aren’t nearly as invested as their brother, and thus  don’t do Woodchuck stuff unless he drags them into it, as seen with “Day of the Only Child” in the series itself. It does make sense: Dewey doesn’t have the survival instinct or patience for camping, and Louie hates effort, the out doors, and doing things for anything but profit. Scouting is all of that.  So the boys have driven all this way for the Mexican Jamboree, as they’ve been carefully raising their tarantula Tara, and the Tarantula Breeding Badge is only given out in Mexico, which is plausible: Different branches of a worldwide organization would have different awards and what not in different countries. And Tarantula’s are also native to mexico so that makes sense.. and I want you to apricate that I’m afraid of spiders, not cartoony ones, for instance, this is adorable. 

Galvantula4Life. But real life ones or realistic looking ones? Yeah no fuck that. So I had to go to the Wikipedia entry and see several horrifying looking sizeable spiders for this one tiny fact. Your welcome. Tara ends up on Donald’s face with the boys assuming Donald is sad to see her go instead of you know FUCKING TERRIFIED A GIANT SPIDER IS ON HIS FACE. This gag does not work.. but probably because as I said i’m afraid of spiders and this is my nightmare, you little sociopaths. 

The boys however worry about what Donald will do for the weekend as they prepare to board the bus to the Jamboree... why it’s meeting in an out of the way town like this I have no idea, but i’d guess plot convince. They realize he has no friends, which Donald shrugs off, and they REALLY shouldn’t say to his face, but ruminate on it once he leaves to do whatever after vaguely talking about friends he had in the past. 

I like this scene even though it annoys me a bit: Ilike it because it does set up how Donald really DOSEN’T have any friends in the comics. It’s part of WHY Rosa was drawn to the Cabs: Their one of the few equal relationships donald’s ever had, people who treat him as a partner, in both sense probably, a friend, a true amigo. As the boys point out Scrooge is a monster to him in the comics, paying him 30 cents an hour which I actually put into an inflation calculator to get an accurate read on how little that was by 2020 standards.. and it’s 3 dollars an hour. Hence why I call him a monster, why that bit hasn’t aged well, and why Rosa REALLY, REALLY should’ve retired it. It dosen’t help reading that knowing Disney largely treated Rosa the same way is cringe inducing at best, if not for any fault of his own. It being cringe inducing for an employer horribly mistreating and underpaying his employees though is his fault, he’s a grown ass man, even in the 90′s this had to be a problem, be better. 

And yes i’m being hard on Don Rosa but just like with the comics thing, I simply expect better from the man given just how much respect I have for the guy. His art is gorgeous, his research is immaculate, his knowledge of old films is wonderful and his love for them so infectious i’m tempted to seek the ones he’s mentioned in notes out. He’s a truly wonderful guy and one of my faviorite comic writers.. but I have to treat him fairly like I do ANY of my idols. Just to prove that, I love Grant Morrison, especially his run on New X-Men, but a lot of it hasn’t aged well including some of the language and the entire subplot with Emma manipulating Scott into having an affair when he wasn’t in the best mental place and she knew that and was acting as his therapist, and treating that as a regular affair REALLY doesn’t play well nor should it have. I love Al Ewing, with all my heart and soul, but his run on Ultimates, while having some great worldbuilding and a spectacular cast, ultimately wasn’t very good after the first arc. Not terrible but not good. John Aliison, of Scary Go Round and Giant Days fame, while impressive has had plenty of stories I just didn’t like for various reasons and will probably get into some day and some parts of his stories haven’t aged well. It’s the hard but necessary part of being a critic: You have to be objective and see all the parts of a creator’s creation, not just the ones you like and call them out when they screw up. To me being a fan isn’t about just blindly loving something, it’s about knowing WHY you love it and being willing to call out faults while still thoroughly enjoying the work. There’s a fine line between being blindly loyal to someone, which has created Zach Snyder's awful cult of personality that I hate so much, and being an overly critical shithead and I hope I’m straddling that line. 

Back on the scene after that filibuster they point out Gladstone, who himself is a monster to me for how he doesn’t lift a finger to help his nephews or cousin, and constnatly flaunts his luck to Donald, and is a bit more than teasing especially since he tried to, you know, steal your house once boys. That’s canon.. that’s a barks story so it’s canon here. You.. You remember that right? He tried to steal your house. And we will be getting to that one next month, just you wait.  Finally the Daisy part that annoys me slightly. The boys being sexist.. was sadly the style at the time this story is set, the 1950′s, and thus plays better for me than it does in Ducktales, as their just little boys and don’t know better. Them assuming Girlfriends aren’t like having friends, while accurate though does bother me a bit, but only because the way this story treats Donald’s relationship is PRETTTTTYYYY bad and this sets that up. But we’ll get to that.  Thankfully this foreshadowing of terrors to come is quickly forgotten as we get a GENUINELY great two panels of Donald lamenting his lack of friends. It just works really well, selling his loneliness and how isolated he truly feels without any, which while I have friends I can relate to as I only really hang out with on regularly. 

This is what I was talking about. While I will point out Rosa’s flaws.. their truly outweighed but his artistic mastery. In just three panels he really has a truly emotional and heartrending scene, and just that one close up among them is all we need to get the true depths of Donald’s loneliness. I can be hard on the guy, but it’s because he’s one of the best there is, best there was, and best there ever will be and thus I hold him to a high standard.  But with that we transition to...

Or rather first his boss at the hotel, whose pissed his headliner has skipped out on him again to woo a lady, and while he plans to fire the guy, only isn’t throttling him because he figures one of his “Senorita’s” boyfriends will do that for him. And while I do like Jose as a playboy i’m not really fond of him trying to have sex with someone in a relationship, as it puts both him and the person he’s having an affair with in a really bad light. It does fit the character, I just don’t have to like it. As for this particular Senorita, it turns out her boyfriend is a notorious Bandito and is thankfully out of town. So yes, Jose is essentially acting out Come A Little Bit Closer by Jay and the Americans. 

Naturally just like the song, said Bad Man returns, Alfonso “Gold Hat” Bedoya, a machete wielding baddie who while understandably pissed about another man making time with his girlfriend, is less understandably about to murder Jose. Though unlike the song, Alfonso’s Lady, rather than help Jose, encourages her boyfriend to murder him and clearly has a fetish for cheating on her boyfriend with various men and watching as he kills him which.. Jesus. This is why while I don’t LIKE the idea of Jose hitting on women in a relationship it does work here, as he’s still not nearly as bad as either of these two, so it evens out. Jose escapes with his umbrella but crashes.. right into the back of Donald’s car. Rosa, Alfonso’s lady, encourages him to murder both of them for funsies, and being a brutal thug, Alfonso obliges and shoots at the car. And since, to quote the duck himself, Donald doesn’t like being killed “Even a little”, he books it out of there. 

Alfonso doesn’t peruse them though. He’s on the trail of a treasure hunter who has a map to the lost town of Tayopa, which contains untold silver, but before he can do that he has important buisness to get to. 

I fucking love that gag and that Rosa snuck more adult gags in there knowing plenty of Duck Fans, such as myself, are grown men, women and others who can handle this sort of thing, while still slippnig it past the kids. 

Donald, once the fear’s worn off a bit, starts to wonder WHY he’s running when he’s not the one who pissed off the guy, and ignores Jose’s good point about the fact Alfonso really dosen’t seem like a guy who sees nuance.. until Donald sees a wanted poster for Alphonoso and keeps driving. He eventually gets far enough away to feel safe.. and confront the guy who got him into this mess. 

Now kiss. While sadly, they do not, we do get a lovely warm reunion between old pals. Rosa keeps their past vauge as, correctly, he pointed out in his authors notes that the Cabs movie really had no plot, accurate, so instead just vaguely alluded to Donald having known the two in his pre-daisy and boys past and likely had similar adventures to the movie, but adapted more for Rosa’s barksian universe. Jose explains he often finds himself cash poor and thus hits the road to drum up some money, and Mexico is a great place for that as it has plenty of tourist money. 

Though as Jose talks about their past we get the most uncomfortable running gag of the story. 

While Donald’s paranoia here is played for laughs.. it just.. isn’t all that funny that Donald’s relationship with Daisy in the Rosa canon is apparently sooooo deeply unhealthy that just HEARING about him having a romantic past before him, as Rosa confirmed this was pre-daisy in his notes, causes Donald to panic and worry she actually somehow heard this. It just isn’t funny.. it speaks of MASSIVE relationship issues and some form of domestic abuse on Rosa!Daisy’s part. It’s stuff like this why there’s only a handful of Donsy relationships I like: Her treating him like shit is reduced to a punchline, instead of being used for character growth. It’s also why I’m deeply dreading covering “Legend of the Three Cablleros” at the end of this retrospective. I just don’t like when Disney media treats Daisy expecting too much of Donald or being hyper jealous of him as hilarious and while I take this more as the story not ageing well rather than barks fault, as since then Domestic Abuse against Males has become a more widely known and talked about issue, it still doesn’t’t make it plesant. It just makes this not entirely his fault. Just like it’s not Stan Lee’s fault this panel is both deeply hilarious and uses a now kinda racist term. 

I named an entire youtube channel after that.. we all have our regrets. I also bring it up since currently Harry’s become terrifying villain Kindred... and thus the current big bad of an entire Spider-Man run and the being hopefully bringing one more day into the light and hopefully leading to it’s undoing.. once had a goofy mustache he genuinely referred to a “Fu Manchu Face Fuzz” that for all we know he regrew under the mask. 

Donald fondly remembers the old days of being a badass adventuring team and decides, screw it, let’s go show that Gold Hatted Paloka whose boss.. but being Donald ends up driving them into The Copper Canyon instead. Our heroes end up lost in the canyon and , fitting for Donald get shot at. I can only imagine his thoughts right now. 

Their mysterious attacker threatens them.. before revealing himself to be Panchito, whose glad to see his friends having mistook them for Alfonso. Turns out HE’S the mysterious treasure hunter Alfonoso was after, to no one’s surprise. We get another deeply unfunny “Daisy’s only a thousand miles away gag” as the boys reminisce and get introduced to Panchito’s horse, Senior Martniez. He also tells the boy about his map.. but how he’s hit a snag as the lost town where the silver, from a silver mine.. is now buried under pounds of volcanic rock, a volcano having erupted. This is artistic license as Don Rosa admits there aren’t any known volcano’s in Mexico, but that they also still haven’t found that missing town, so this was his explanation.  All is not lost as Donald’s globetrotting with Scrooge meant he knows his history.. and thus spots an old mission which, at the time, were used by preists as cover for secret mines. Donald naturally bungles his way in and we get the much better running gag of the Cabs thinking Donald did something amazing when he really just wondered into slapstick. They end up down the shaft, with Jose deciding Donald can’t do all the work, and finding a secret entrance under a sanctum sanctorum.. a religious thing I have no idea what it ii s but is clearly where Dr. Strange got the name. Regardless they find some old kegs filled with pure silver. As Panchito puts it: 

And he did ideed. In a nice moment that shows off his character, Panchito has no hesitation for sharing the wealth: He wouldn’t of got this far without his friends, and he wont get the Silver cashed in without their help. He also fires off his guns in celebration.. forgetting their in a cave, a gag I genuinely like. 

After some off screen loading and hoisting, the boys are slowly on their way out of the canyon, with Donald’s Car and Senor Martinez pulling the cart with the silver together. With some downtime the three talk about what they’ll spend the money on. 

About what you’d expect. A big beautiful music venue

For Jose, and a nice ranch to retire at for Panchito. Both despite being wondering souls would love a simple place to call home, in their own personal styles. While they are BIG goals, their also likeable and understandable ones: Jose just wants to stop having to do all these tours and carouse and party and perform at home. Be his own boss, and live his own dreams instead of working for whoever will put up for him. Panchito just wants to retire from being a wondering hero to a peaceful life of farming, an honest reward he well earned. And Donald? 

This is easily one of my faviorite moment’s of Rosa’s, one that really cuts to comic donald’s character: Sure he can be lazy, a trickster, hot tempered, and overconfident.. it’s why we love him.. but at the end of the day he genuinely loves those boys and their his first prority and I can see why the reboot took that trait and made it his defining one. They may annoy and frustrate them and he may pull a switch on them, 50′s after all.. but he loves his boys and knows they’ll do great one day and despite his spendthrift ways when given big money.. their all he can think about. Sure Donald probably has his own personal dreams, but instead of going big and retiring he’d probably just take only a small sliver of that money to open a humble hot dog stand or something, so he could have something of his own to provide them, while still giving most of the money to their college. Scrooge is who we all want to be.. Donald is who we are at our core: Flawed people who just want to do our best. It’s why I love the guy so much.  The boys rest in the small town of El Divisadero, which like the town we started in is a real place, though both are much smaller, even as of 2000 when Rosa made his visit, so he had to embelish slightly. THey stop at a local watering hole only to find Alphonso. While Jose is naturally worried, Gold Hat has moved on to Panchito and wants to know why he’s here. However Donald thinking quickly says he’s part of their nightclub act, and we get a rousing version of the three cablleros, which when reading this I synched up to the song. I won’t put it here, as it’s too big for tumblr and it really works more as a whole, but needless to say, it’s the highlight of the comic. While Rosa did have doubts about putting a musical number in a comic, and it’s often trickey, he makes it work with the energy, vibrance and number of gags, that compensate for the music not being there. There’s tons of great gags, from Donald getting thrown out  window, to the stone faced crowd who only cheers when Alphonso ends the number by whacking the three with one of their own guitars.  Alphonso quickly realizes what’s goin on, finds the silver, and then hyjacks the train. The boys take off after him in the car, as Donald triumphantly states “The Three Cablleros Ride Again!”. The three head after Alphonzo, who finds them when trying to release the other cars to increase speed, and then shoots at them. It seems hopeless... until donald gets launched into the air, into a cactus then back into Alphonzo knocking his guns out in a great bit of slapstick. The Conductor, likely not knowing about the others or not carring, detaches the cars though, so our heroes and villian are now sent rocketing through the world’s most dangerous railway. Which, as you’d probably already figured out, is very real and what inspirited rosa to use this setting and thus indeed wind through dangerous mountainsides and over thin cliffs like a real life Donkey Kong Country level.  Eduardo still has his machete though and easily beats Jose’s umbrella, but some more Donald slapstick and him apologizing to daisy about the senioritis as he wishes her goodbye seriously GET SOME COUPLE’S COUNSELING IF THAT EXISTS IN THE 50′S. It puls his sombrero down over his head, and with jose’s umbrella top landing on it, carries him off where he ends up in a lazy asshole sheirff’s jail for a gag. The boys however continue going back.. and the railway is unfinished at this time in history and while they save the silver, their fucked. But Donald has a plan, running to the back of the cars to get his car, and while it has trouble starting, Panchito throws some chilie’s in the tank to get it moving again.  The boys find the silver.. but when one barrel spills they find out it’s not actual liquid silver.. but quicksilver, which was used for silver refinment. So while i’ts shiny, and toxic so of course Jose sticks his hand in before knowing what it is, it’s worthless. Probably. The boys.. all have a nice laugh over it. I love this moment. Sure the boys lost their dreams.. but like Scrooge, the three belivie theirs always another rainbow. What matters is the journey they had and the reunion that restored their friendship. Donald also muses the boys are smart enough to get their own scholarships anyway, so it’s no big loss.. but he does have to get back to Disvadero as the jamboree ends tonight and Jose agrees as he now needs a job again. The owner balks, understandably since Jose missed a performance to get laid and then disappeared overnight.. but the Hotel Owner is visiting so as long as he can provide a big act he’s good, and while Jose is worried as he already gave them his best, the boys naturally pitch in to be the cablleros once more. After all

So we close on Huey, Dewey and Louie returning, still worrying about donald, when they find him on stage. We then end on a truly heartwarming and great last few panels. 

Final Thoughts: What else can I say? This story is beautifully drawn, as usual for Rosa, well paced, fun and really fleshes the Cabs out from the movie. It has a warm, fun adventurous tone and it’s nice to see Donald in the lead since Rosa usually did Scrooge stories and thus Donald was the justifiably surly sidekick instead of the main man> here he’s in the spotlight and gets to show just what he’s made of, while still being the hilarious mess we all know and love. The story honors the original film well, while forging it’s own path and is beautifully built into history. My only real complaints are the nephews being annoying, Alphonso’s somewhat overwrought accent, and of course the daisy gags.. but it’s all HEAVILY outweighed by one of Rosa’s finest hours and easy enough to ignore. Check this out if you can. It’s a classic for a reason. 

If you liked this review, you can commission your own by messaging me on here or at my discord technicolormuk#655 for five dollars a comic story or animation episode. Whenever the ride resumes next, we’ll coming on down to the house of mouse to see the boys return to the screen. In the meantime keep an eye on this space for regular Ducktales reviews every Monday, including once this run ends as I intend to start playing catchup, loud house reviews whenever, my tom retrospective that’s returning soon, and my retrospective on the Life and Times of Scrooge McDuck, with chapter 2 of that also coming soon. Until then, there’s always another rainbow. 

[dcomicsficrecs]

do you know any good fics where the batfam has to take care of Dick?

Anonymous said to dcomicsficrecs:                                                                

Do you have any angst or H/C fics about Dick that aren't related to Tarantula or Mirage?

Anonymous said to dcomicsficrecs:                                                                

Hey there, thanks for doing this! You got any recs where the family is shown actually caring about Dick’s wellbeing? Preferably none with sexual assault cw? Thank you, have a good day!

I hope you guys don’t mind, but I’m joining this request with two similar ones that fit, in my opinion, the same theme: Dick-centric H/C, no rape/SA tw (+ Batfam)

And I recommend these 8 stories for you:

1) A War Inside My Head by CamsthiSky

Dick is tired and sick and his family takes care of him.

That’s it, that’s 4.6K of this, basically, but it’s very sweet, and the ending made me smile. I love me some comfort after the hurt!

Please check other H/C stories by the same author here.

2)  Stubborn by audreycritter

Dick is usually the one taking care of everyone else and he's bad at asking for help.

So bad, in fact, that he never even actually asks-- but Jason shows up anyway.

And then Dick returns the favor. And then they both do for Tim. And it's just going to keep going from there.

It's probably Alfred's fault. When your butler mom calls and says, "Go check on your brother," you don't argue. You just do it.

A 20.3K sickfic that is very much a four batbros bonding and comforting each other, with focus on Dick. Very nice.

3) It Could Stay This Simple (Just Stay This Little) by coconuticecream (staymonkey)

Maybe claiming legal guardianship over a child at 22, and so soon after becoming Batman, spread Bruce thinner than he'd realized. Maybe Bruce was less equipped to parent a third grader than he'd thought. Maybe Bruce should do more to invite Dick into his life.

Maybe Bruce should hug Dick, or promise he'll do better by Dick, or tell Dick that he loves Dick more than he thought himself capable.

(or: bruce and dick practice self care together.)

It’s only 3k of Bruce & Dick H/C but, c’mon, Bruce and Dick practice self care together? I needed that. You need to read that, too.

4) in the dark of the night by fanfictiongreenirises

“I already have a dad, y’know? So you don’t have to be my new dad. I don’t really want you to be my dad, anyway. We can be friends. Partners.”

Bruce seems to sigh in relief, having stiffened up halfway through Dick’s speech. “Friends and partners, then.”

And they were in agreement.

It’s a 10K of very Dick&Bruce focused H/C story but in the later installment, there are other Batfam members as well, and it’s all very nice and comforting. Also, uncle Clark is here too!

5) Collective Judgments by WithTheKeyIsKing

Dick Grayson has never been ashamed of his heritage, despite the comments he's used to receiving.

Luckily for him, the members of his family are disinclined to put up with racist bullshit.

It’s a 5.7K of Batfam members standing up for Dick against racists. Nothing that would need a warning, this is very much a comfort fic.

6) a million dreams by CaptainOzone

A magical something-or-other pulls Mary and John Grayson from their final performance, mid-fall, and spits them out into a grungy alley with no idea how they got there, much less why they're there now.

And to make matters worse, Dick is nowhere to be found.

Written for the Batman Bingo 2020 prompt: "Time Travel." Heavily inspired by the song of the same title.

a 10K story where Dick receives some closure via Time Travel, and Mary and John are allowed to see their son all grown up, even for a brief period of time.

7) You Won't Wake Up Alone by DawnsEternalLight

Dick's captured and drugged and probably about to die. The last thing he wants to do is die in front of his family, especially not his baby brothers, all he wants is to be with Bruce and feel safe again.

5.2K of Dick-focused Hurt/Comfort that is exactly what you request says: Dick is in danger, and everyone cares.

8) Brave Soldier Boy (Come Marching Home) by AuroraKant

And yet… Dick knew that he wouldn’t be able to stop. He would never be able to stop, not until his body forced him to. He was born into athleticism and formed into a weapon at a young age. He was at top physical form, the peak human condition. But Dick could already feel himself break. How much longer would he be able to pretend? For how much longer would Nightwing be able to fly, to save the world?

For how much longer would Dick Grayson be allowed to exist?

Because if there was a Dick Grayson without Nightwing, Dick didn’t know him. If there was a part of him that existed without the hero-persona lurking behind, then Dick had no idea what part that was.

Or: Dick questions what being a child hero really means, and Uncle Clark is there to listen

There is no Batfam in here, and there are not a lot of comfort, but! This is a very important piece of introspection on what exactly Robin meant to Dick - as told by him as an adult. I think the author brings up important questions, and through the mouth of a character that isn’t usually used for that.

[zippers-flowers-and-wine]

"Go visit family in Oregon, they said. It'll be a blast, they said!" You hiss, hustling a little faster through the light rain with your arms ineffectively attempting to shield your thick hair.

What a crock of shit.

What they didn't tell you about this fucking place was that it rained every.

Fucking.

D a y.

...

Okay, you may be exaggerating juust a tad, you'll admit to that.

But still! The high humidity sucked for your already frizzed hair, and the rain usually rolled in out of nowhere!

As if to prove your point - or maybe even mock you, Oregon was a little bitch like that - the sky rumbles threateningly, darkening to a near black. The few drops that had been landing against your neck, speed up and you wail a dramatic curse.

Throwing your comfy coat over your head, you start hustling your step a little more.

Moving here hadn't been that much of a mistake, despite what you may complain. It was really pretty, with so many mountains that had good hiking spots, and rivers that provided you with relaxing swimming pools. Plus the always chilly water was a definite bonus, a complete step up from the metallic tang that always permeated the water in some of the hotter spots you've lived in.

The only problem you really had with Oregon was...

A low, clicking rumble from above. Your hair stands on end, and you take the steps up to your apartment three at a time, barely pausing to pull out your keys. You hear him click behind you, closer than you were comfortable with. It makes you miss the keyhole a few times, but the sound of him landing roughly on the metal railing behind you gives you small bit of extra coordination and you swiftly shove your door open.

Slamming it shut, a nervous eye peeks out of the peephole, flinching when it clashes with an overly wide, slightly compound, black eye.

God-damn-it.

Fucking... The bug beasts that liked to hang around were another factoid about Oregon that... Well, they didn't piss you off. It was just a huge leap from your last home.

Those guys weren't as prevalent in the other places you lived, most non-mountainous places only really having the arachnid-type beasts. In fact, when you lived in Texas with your cousins, the only insect based one you had ever seen was this one fluffy, brown and black... Caterpillar? He'll, he may be a fully grown butterfly at this point.

But he was a kid who had a nasty attitude, dyed his hair blue - according to rumours - and was always yelling at the humans he usually stuck around.

This place though? Practically crawling with them, no pun intended.

Beastfolk weren't new, but they were very few and very far inbetween. In fact, a lot of people had been questioning if they could really be considered "sentient"...

Well, they were swiftly shut down by a feisty tarantula, that looked kinda like an Arizona Blonde, that had become a lawyer and completely shut down a court case.

Another soft clicking makes you jump, shooting a look at the door. "Chill your thorax, fuzzbutt."

An offended click, and you smirk.

The only thing that kept a lot of people from considering most beasts as sentient and free thinking people was... Well...

You hear him jump over the railing. The heavy, almost lethargic sound of his wings flapping makes you hop to attention, darting through the house to swiftly shut your window with smug whoop.

He's gotten you like that too many times.

You see, beasts haven't fully gotten over their base instincts, and the month leading into spring was were all anti-beastfolk arguments got their evidence. Said that beasts clearly can't be sentient, they succumb to those based urges so easily!

Not because the folk felt any urge to fuck like rabbits, as was the common misconception.

He chitters at you through the window, feet thudding against either side of the - now shut - window for mere seconds before he kicks back off. His clicks fades as you grin giddily, dancing in place. You might actually win this one!

The only reason most speciests would give for being so against beastfolks was the fact that they were "too base instinct" and it made them "feel unsafe".

And in a way, they were right.

Your grin fades when you realize you can't hear him anymore.

It's dangerous to get between any spider-types and their chosen.

The hairs on your body raise, your mind scrambling to figure this out.

It's foolish to keep a centipede-type away from their loved ones.

A soft shuffle has you whipping around, hands up in a comical karate motion.

It's down right ridiculous to separate ant-types from their mates.

Suddenly, you remember: you didn't lock the bathroom up.

"You're asking for a death sentence if you get between a moth and his love." The voice slides between you shoulder blades, accompanied by four large arms wrapping around you.

Screaming in delight, you curse, "Oh you sneaky fuck!"

Bruno laughs, allowing you to whip around and hit his shoulder. His hand comes up, wringing out some of his neck fluff while he flashes you a smarmy grin. "What? It's not my fault you didn't check the bathroom first. I didn't even land at your window!"

You gasp, pushing him away with a look of mock horror. "Yo-you..."

He leans in, large black eyes shining teasingly. "Come on, you can say it."

"I can't!" You cry in the most over the top, Trans-Atlantic accent possible, draping yourself across the bed.

Bruno huffs a laugh, antenna flicking as he quickly shucks his slightly damp over shirt. With a quick hop, courtesy of his powerful legs, he lands on top of you, grinning at you scream. "What, is it a bad word?"

"Yes! You foul man, begone He-Who- Says-Bad-Words! Begone!" His eyes light up, a near maniacal grin stretching across his usually serious features.

(You'd never say it out loud for fear of emotionally wounding him: but you kinda liked how he acted pre-spring. He was so goofy... Although serious, intense Bruno is just as pleasant.)

His wings flare up, engulfing the room in a shadow of white, black speckled wings. His upper set of arm catch your hands and you're, quite rudely, made aware of your mistake of allowing him to straddle you.

"Bruno..." You warn, wiggling to pull away from his grasp.

His grin stretches wider, fangs hooking just slightly over his bottom lip as Bruno teases back, "(Y/N)..?"

Whatever threat you were gonna say is lost as his second pair of hands - the wicked claws clipped precisely for this reason - dive in, wiggling furiously against your ribs.

Screaming, you thrash, kicking out and laughing. His hands hold you steady, with just enough give that you're continuously given hope that you can escape, but you know better.

"Saaaay iiit~" He croons, slowing so you can speak.

Wheezing a few wet coughs, you smirk at him. "N-Nuh uh. I-I don't cuss like you do."

His antenna flick up, shivering as his grin gets wider. "Me? Cuss? Now that's just slanderous talk my dear."

"N' slander, cuz' it's true."

"Hmm, I think you can speak far too well my dear." A part of you immediately regrets talking back, especially when he shifts both of your hands into one of his, the other migrating down to hold your chest down.

Flashing you a smirk, he wiggles his fingers near your kneecap.

"Now, what am I?"

You keep stubbornly quiet. Humming, the large moth brushes his fingers down the back of your calf, chattering at the full body jerk you give.

"Once again, what am I?"

"A liar, because you lied!" You squawk mid-laugh, playfully gasping in mock horror. Bruno chirps in laughter, releasing you to flip over.

"Haha, now you're a filthy cusser like me!"

You groan, rolling over to nudge his wings so you can snuggle beneath. He lifts it without fuss, purring when you nuzzle your face into his chest fluff.

"Mmmn, love you B."

His chest vibrates with a fierce purr, and you grin. Grumbling past the motor in his chest, Bruno mumbles, "You only love me for my purring."

"Well, the fuzz is a nice addition."

"I will throw you off this bed, don't try me."

"Bet."

You found yourself face down n the floor less than two seconds later and not at all pissed.

[biterisks]

Short Burnsmithers Fanfic (Fluff)

     “Smithers! Where is my coffee?!” Mr. Burns barked. He stared at his watch- bah, five minutes late! How was he ever supposed to trudge through the work day under these conditions? As he silently groused to himself, Smithers entered the office, shakily carrying a small tray with a pot and cup of coffee.

     “Sorry, sir…” Smithers mumbled. Burns eyed him curiously- something was definitely off about this fellow today. His hair was a mess, his bowtie was crooked, and he had bags under his eyes to rival his own. Mr. Burns opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly interrupted by a loud, awful-sounding sneeze from his assistant, who meekly excused himself.

     “What’s gotten into you?” Burns demanded. He suspiciously examined his sleepy-looking sycophant, who wobbled unsteadily on his feet for a moment before clumsily setting the coffee tray down with a loud clattering.

     “I’m sorry, sir,” Smithers muttered, sniffling. He sounded terribly congested. “I just have a bit of a cold…”

     “Well don’t you dare get any of your germy digits on MY desk!” Mr. Burns said defensively. “A cold could KILL me at my age!” Smithers awkwardly shuffled back a couple of steps, letting out a tired sigh. His shoulders slumped with exhaustion. He raised his wrist to blot at his own forehead, which was dotted with sweat.

     “Mr. Burns…” Smithers started hoarsely.

     “Quiet, you,” Mr. Burns said sternly. He stood up to get a better look at his assistant in better light. “Oh dear… Smithers, your face is as red as a ripe-harvested June strawberry.” He shook his head contemptuously. “I can’t have you working like this, Smithers- you’re too much of a liability. I’ll have to send you home.” He paused for a moment, glaring at Smithers, almost disdainfully. “Actually… I’m not even sure I trust you’d be able to drive. I’ll take you home myself.”

     Later in the car, Monty Burns kept up a stream of mostly one-sided conversation, as Smithers laid his head against the cool glass of the window. “You know, Smithers, if there’s one thing I’ve learned in my long life, it’s that if a man doesn’t have his health, he doesn’t have anything. Surely you recall my bout with smallpox two years ago- why, the plant was shut down for days…”

     Smithers half-heartedly listened to his boss speaking- hearing him prattle on like this was almost soothing, in a way, and the assistant faded in and out of a light slumber. A bony finger prodding his shoulder signaled the arrival at their destination.

     “Thank you, sir,” Smithers said, sniffling a bit. He got out of the car and wobbily made his way to his front door.

     “Don’t come back until you’re less repulsive,” Mr. Burns said- and with those lovely parting words, he drove off. Smithers entered his apartment and changed into a wooly sweatshirt and flannel pajama pants with all the strength he had left. He laid his tired bones on the couch, and within a minute or two, he was snoring softly in a deep, restful sleep. His tiny dog, Hercules, hopped up and sniffed at his face, before curling up next to his stomach.

     It was a good six days before Smithers’ stubborn fever finally subsided. By the time he returned to work he was still hoarse and dark circles continued to present themselves under his eyes, but he had regained most of the spring in his step, quite relieved to be feeling back in the pink. To be on the safe side, he opted for a plush gray turtle neck sweater rather than his usual dress shirt and tie, but the joy on his face was obvious as he stepped into Mr. Burns’ office.

     “Good morning, Mr. Burns!” he said, his voice cracking the tiniest bit. As his gaze fell upon his boss, Smithers gasped, and Mr. Burns glared at him with icy, watery eyes.

     Mr. Burns looked like hell. The normally dapperly-dressed man sat hunched at his desk with a bathrobe over his usual suit and tie… and were those slippers he was wearing? Mixed into the sea of paperwork and memos on his desk were about a dozen or so used tissues, one of which Mr. Burns was currently using to dab at his reddened nose. He looked even paler than usual, and Smithers could faintly make out a thin layer of stubble on his flushed cheeks.

     “What did I tell you about keeping your germ-infested hands off of my desk?” Mr. Burns said sharply. He tossed the tissue into a nearby trash can, missing by about a foot. He retrieved a fresh one from a pink, flowery box from his desk, and loudly blew his nose. The poor man sounded even worse than he looked. A shiver made its way through his body, and he wrapped the bathrobe around his rail-thin frame tightly. “By god, Smithers, it’s freezing in here- close the blasted window!”

     “Uh… the window is already closed,” Smithers observed awkwardly. “Oh sir… I’m so sorry… this is all my fault.” He pinched the bridge of his nose anxiously. “I… what can I do? Do you need me to drive you to the hospital? Or call the doctor? I can-“

     “Cease your smithering,” Mr. Burns said. “I do not intend to, as you young people say, ‘wimp out’ on an honest day’s work due to nothing but a mere flu.” His breath hitched in his throat, and he burst into a loud fit of painful coughing. Smithers cringed. “Eh… no matter,” Burns croaked. He pulled a small orange bottle of DayQuil from the sleeve of his robe. “I’m a big boy- I know how to care for myself.” Smithers watched anxiously as Burns uncapped the bottle, and downed about five times the recommended dose as if it were water. A shudder raked its way through Burns’ slight frame as he screwed the cap back on and set the bottle nearby.

     “Um…. Sir, is there anything you’d like me to do for you?” Smithers asked.

     Mr. Burns considered this for a moment. He wiped the sweat from his brow, woozily rested his tired, stuffed-up head in his hands, and sniffled. “Hmm…” he groaned. The DayQuil had slurred is speech considerably. “Hot ttttea- extra honey. You knnnow how I like it.” He willed himself to straighten his back and groaned, rubbing his temples before attempting to tackle the large assortment of paperwork before him. He picked up his quill and stared at it in puzzlement, as if forgetting what it was at all.

     Smithers smiled warmly. “Right away, sir,” he said. He slipped out of the door and dashed to the employee cafeteria, and filled a big cardboard coffee cup with hot water, three herbal teabags, two lemon wedges, a splash of cream, and about half a bottle of honey. It smelled lovely, if not sickeningly sweet. The loyal assistant rushed back to Mr. Burns’ office as quickly as he could, drink in hand, prepared to do anything to ease the man’s discomfort.

     It was not entirely unusual to see a workaholic such as Mr. Burns dozing off at his desk, (it was practically a second home, after all,) but Smithers felt a pang of sympathy at the man’s flushed complexion and utter exhaustion. Mr. Burns’ head rested upon his arms, his face turned to the side. He snored softly, his breathing slightly wheezy and strained.

     “Oh, sir…” Smithers murmured. He made a mental note to escort Mr. Burns to the hospital after their shift had ended. Though Burns was as stubborn as an ox and laughed at the idea of sick days, he was still a frail man- with only one functioning lung, to boot. Smithers gently set the cup of tea down on the desk near the tissue box, and cast a worried glance at the feverish face of his stubborn old boss.

     “Hee hee… Heh heh…hee…” Mr. Burns chuckled about something in his fever-addled slumber, before coughing a bit. Smithers cracked a small smile, trying to imagine for the life of him what Burns could have been dreaming about. Smithers ducked out of the office and into the men’s restroom. He grabbed a thick stack of paper towels, soaked them in cold water, and wrung them out over the sink. He made his way back to Burns’ office, where his boss continued his odd little dream.

     “Hee hee…. Tarantula Town,” Burns mumbled in his sleep. “Oh Harry… don’t tell the others, but you’ve always been my favorite.”

     Smithers smiled sympathetically and laid the damp compress over Burns’ forehead. Just as he was about to leave the office, he turned to get one last look at his boss, who shivered, despite the plushy bathrobe that engulfed his small frame. With a pitying sigh, Smithers turned around and removed his jacket. He draped the olive-green jacket over Burns’ thin shoulders, before returning to his own office.

[wherewindysurgeswend]

deep heart’s core: chapter eight

chapter 1

chapter 2  

chapter 3

chapter 4

chapter 5

chapter 6

chapter 7

taglist (please dm, send an ask or leave a comment if you’d like to be added or removed):  @rememberedkisses @veiliza 

The crossing of the channel was short, and for most of it, Kathleen could see the French coast. Her parents and siblings were below deck, but she hadn’t been able to keep herself away from the sea air. Larry and Margaret, whose family had happened to book passage on the same boat across the channel, were bickering as usual, but Kathleen couldn’t make out what it was about. Something stupid, now doubt. Kathleen could understand that. You didn’t grow up as the eldest of seven children without picking up the habit of arguing because you were bored. 

The boat docked and the passengers began to disembark. Kathleen noticed a blonde woman waving frantically at whoever was to Kathleen’s right. Kathleen turned to see who that was and saw Larry, his face buried in his hands, looking supremely uncomfortable while Margaret laughed. These clues, along with Kathleen’s intuition, told her this must be the notorious Phyllis. 

Kathleen edged closer to her friends to hear what they were saying. “— come on this trip in the first place?” Larry lamented. His voice was slightly muffled, as his face was still buried in his hands. Margaret just kept laughing.

“Peggy?” said Larry, suddenly lifting his head and turning to face his cousin.

“What?” she replied, trying to control her laughter.

“Will you throw me overboard now? I don’t think I can handle the rest of this trip.”

“What, and spend the rest of the trip babysitting Phyllis by myself? Nothing doing.” Larry groaned. “Kath? You’ll do it, won’t you?”

“Rather not have your blood on my hands, thanks.”

“It would be a mercy-killing! No jury would convict you!”

“Your logic is dubious at best.”

“Fine. Can you at least hand me my cigarette case, then? It’s in my coat pocket.” Kathleen rifled through the pockets of the grey wool overcoat Larry had draped haphazardly over his suitcase. She found the cigarette case and tossed it to Larry. “Don’t throw that,” exclaimed an indignant Larry, “it’s a family heirloom!” 

“How can it be an heirloom? It’s monogrammed. Got your initials on it.”

“They’re my father’s initials too, genius.”

“I don’t think something that belonged to your father counts as an heirloom.”

“What are you, the heirloom police? Just hand it to me like a normal person, won’t you?” He opened the case, extracted a cigarette, and lit it. Margaret made a big show of waving her hand in front of her face to waft away the smoke. “You know, doing that doesn’t make me want to quit smoking any more, Peggy. If anything it makes me want to keep doing it if only because it clearly annoys you so much.”

“So you’d ruin your lungs just to get a rise out of me?” “Peggy, the twenty-one years we’ve known each other should have taught you that I would do anything to get a rise out of you.” Margaret muttered something under her breath. Larry opened his mouth as if to say something, but the crowd of passengers started moving toward the exit and he had no choice but to pick up his suitcase and move with them. Kathleen hung back to wait for her family, waving goodbye to Larry and Margaret. 

“All right, Kath?” Florence asked when she caught up to her daughter, “sorry to be leaving your friends?”

“Not so much. They’ll be in Paris, too, after all. I’ve got the address of their hotel.” Florence nodded. “Well, at least one person will be having a good time on this stupid trip,” Kathleen’s brother Joseph muttered. Florence gave him a disapproving look. “Nobody forced you to come,” she pointed out. “You kind of did,” said Kathleen, “he’s twelve. Were you really going to let him stay at home alone?” Florence chose not to continue the conversation, opting instead to ask Kathleen if she had put any more thought into continuing her studies. Kathleen gave her usual answer, mumbling a few sentences about how she had looked into it but she hadn’t been able to find a course of study that really appealed to her. She was saved from having to say anything else by the arrival of her father and the rest of her siblings. 

As soon as they were off the boat, Margaret was engulfed in a fur-coated, heavily perfumed hug. The whole affair was so disorienting that it took Margaret longer than it should have to realize that this was Phyllis and not some stranger. It took her even longer to realize that Phyllis was talking to her. “... just bored out of my skull,” Phyllis was saying, “there’s absolutely no-one of interest here! You would think Paris would be fascinating but it’s dull as dishwater. I’m so glad you’re here, Peggy. Maybe now we can have some fun instead of just sitting around at the hotel bar every night.” Margaret couldn’t think of anything intelligent to say, so she just smiled weakly. “Hello, Phyllis,” Larry said drily. 

“Larry! It’s been ages since I’ve seen you,” said Phyllis. The words were friendly, but the tone with which Phyllis said them was decidedly not. Margaret had never been able to extract from Larry why their engagement had ended, but she could tell it hadn’t been on good terms. Phyllis threw her arms around Larry’s neck, and Margaret could see her lips moving as she whispered something in his ear, but she was too far away to hear. 

The train to Paris was just like Phyllis had described her time in France: dull as dishwater. Phyllis tried to make conversation, and Margaret really did try to keep up, but everything Phyllis said, through no fault of her own, seemed so pointless. Larry nudged her with his elbow. “Five-letter word for ‘strained’?” he asked.

“Tense.” 

“Thanks.”

“Doing crosswords?” Phyllis asked, a little coldly (or so Margaret thought). Larry nodded.

“Yes. Say, Phyllis, have you got a seven-letter word for ‘hide’?”

“Conceal. So, what have you two been up to since we’ve seen each other? I know Peggy is getting married, when is that happening?”

“Next spring.”

“Am I invited to the wedding?”

“Of course.” Margaret couldn’t see Larry’s face, but she could tell he was rolling his eyes. 

“And who are your bridesmaids?”

“Mother chose them,” Margaret mumbled, “I wanted Amanda Habersham for my matron of honour but grandmother doesn’t like her, so my cousin Bernice – I don’t know if you know her, she’s my mother’s brother’s daughter – is going to be maid of honour. She’s only seventeen so it’s all very exciting for her.” Phyllis nodded.

“Shame I didn’t know about the wedding sooner, I could have done it.” 

“I don’t think mother would have –” Phyllis laughed, somewhat humorlessly. She took a cigarette case out of her purse, extracted a cigarette, and raised it to her lips. “Got a light?” she asked Larry. He tossed her a matchbook without looking up from his crossword puzzle. “Thanks,” said Phyllis, lighting the cigarette. She turned back to Margaret. “That’s true. Your mother doesn’t like me, does she?” Margaret didn’t know what to say to that. 

“Why do you say that?” was all she could manage. Phyllis took a drag from her cigarette and looked straight at Margaret. “No use being polite. She doesn’t like me. Mothers usually don’t, though, so I’m sure it’s nothing personal.”

“I’m sure that’s not true,” Margaret said quietly. Larry scoffed.

“Cut the shit, Peggy, you know it’s true. You’ve heard aunt Doreen talk about Phyllis.”

“Same old Larry,” said Phyllis, “still about as subtle as a battle-axe. You haven’t changed at all.”

“Same old Phyllis,” said Larry, refusing to look up from his crossword, “all the kindness and understanding of a tarantula.”

“You know what, Larry? I’m glad you never change. Gives me a sense of stability in life. You’re like a dime-novel plot: cheap, vulgar, and above all, predictable.”

“Now, now, there’s no need to be cruel,” said Larry absently, “I draw the line at being called cheap and vulgar. I may be predictable, but I have class. Peggy, have you got an eight-letter word for ‘double-dealing’?”

“Deceitful.”

“Interesting word for you to be using, Larry,” said Phyllis innocently.

“I don’t know what you’re referring to,” said Larry without looking at her. 

“Oh, you know,” Phyllis continued sweetly, “just that you’re no stranger to that kind of thing.”

“Nor are you, Phyllis,” Larry shot back, finally meeting her gaze, “or have you forgotten what happened in London the summer we were engaged? Because if I remember correctly, you –”

“Oh for heaven’s sake,” Margaret interrupted, “can’t you two keep it together? It’s been less than an hour since we arrived! I know you can’t stand each other, and believe me, I don’t like this any better than you do. But can you at least pretend you don’t hate each other’s guts?” Larry and Phyllis glared at each other and said nothing. Margaret put one hand on Larry’s shoulder and leaned over to rest the other on Phyllis’s forearm. “Come on, let’s try to make this bearable, shall we?” Neither Larry nor Phyllis said anything. 

“Oh, come on,” said an exasperated Margaret, “can’t you just be civil for once? You’re acting like children.” Larry and Phyllis both muttered something that sounded like acquiescence, and Margaret decided not to press the issue. At this point, just stopping them from ripping each other’s heads off was an incredible feat.

[gamblealifearchived1]

madamkezzie said: "Orville, I swear, that island representative has no sense of danger,"Wilbur sighs, pinching the space between his eyes, "One of these days, bell bottoms is gonna get bit by tarantulas, and I won't be able to call in the red alert, or I won't notice in time, and they won't get up!" Wilbur whines quietly, forehead resting on the table, "What do I do then?" (he's a stressed pilot)

@aflockoffeathers​

      Brow perks at the sound of his older brother starting to complain. & Honestly, he can't blame them. The island rep had been requesting for different island visits at least five different times that week. Still, for his brother to see things this badly before anything major happened —— they must've REALLY stressed him out. "Hey, hey. It's okay, bro. Do I gotta keep reminding you of how awesome of a pilot you are ? Because, I will if it's come to this." Even though bragging rights are usually reserved towards the older sibling, Orville doesn't mind showing them with words of encouragement. 

                                          Anything to get their jobs done. 

"Were there tarantula's on the island you took them to ? " Head tilts curiously to the side, small frown tugging onto his beak. "We really should look into stocking up on the first aide stuff just to be on the safe side. I'm sure I have some stuff left over & later I could go to the market to get more things to help out." 

He just wants to make sure his brother is as less stressed as possible while on the job. After all, it wasn't technically his fault their rep was able to make him blush like that. Ugh. He needed to better hide his emotions with flattery. He could scold himself more, but right now wasn't the appropriate time. "Want me to make a fresh pot of coffee ? " 

It's not much, but hey, it's a start. "It'll be okay, Wilbs. Trust me, we've got this ! Dodo code of honor ! "