i wonder where the idea of chilchuck being a deadbeat came from when theres like. no textual evidence for it ?
he knows what all of them are up to; he still writes to flertom and she sent him his neckwarmer, so that to me implies that they at least have a somewhat positive relationship?
its more ambiguous with meijack and puckpatti, but since meijack is also a picklock, i wouldn't be surprised if he taught her himself, considering how trades are often passed down through families, and because he talks about sending people to her if he dies.
also the way he talks about puckpatti is very like... it's obvious he wants her to take things more seriously, but he's accepting, and his tone here reads more fond to me than anything else.
like, he keeps his daughters' old toys under his desk? that doesn't scream 'deadbeat' at all, it screams 'empty nester' who doesn't know how to reach out or is scared to do so
EDIT: i know a lot of the 'deadbeat dad' stuff is jokes, but some people are Not joking and genuinely think chilchuck is a bad dad. this post is not saying that you cant joke about it; it is just outlining what canon shows regarding his (clearly positive) relationship with his kids.
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satoru physically withers and crumbles every time you return his belongings. he doesn’t know how to tell you that he can only accidentally on purpose leave his glasses on your nightstand, or his jacket on your couch, or his shirt in your laundry so many times before he loses his mind. every time you don’t take he bait, he folds into himself and wonders why you don’t love him anymore and it costs him $22.50 to hear ieiri tell him to suck it up and use his words because he literally has to buy her company (and drinks).
but when you do take the bait, when you do wear his things, satoru thinks it’s all worth it. he can’t explain why it does what it does to him. it’s a sinister kind of possession he wants to have over you, knowing you’re your own person, free to do as you please, but also knowing you’re caged in him. it’s a lovesick kind of gooeyness that melts his heart seeing you fumble with the sleeves of a sweater that’s too long for you. it’s the vision of you seeing you drowning in him—in his clothes, in his things, in him, in him, in him. he’s selfish, he wants to consume you in as many ways as possible, wants you to drown in him, would die happily knowing you were one tenth as enraptured by him as he is with you. he doesn’t know how or why or when you gained so much power over him, but he doesn’t care, he doesn’t want you to ever stop, so if he has to keep pretending to leave his clothes and bags and glasses around then so be it.
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In which Danny wakes up in a weird place.... again.
The thing about Danny, is that he often wakes up in really, really weird situations. Like way more than you'd think, way more than he'd even like, really. He doesn't get that much sleep, being y'know, half ghost, and with school work and having to fight "The Forces of Evil" half the time it gets kind of... tedious, balancing things like sleep and eating and even getting water in him.
It's not really a good thing, but he started carrying around a water bottle he can clip to his bag. It reminds him to at least drink something, when he doesn't have time to grab anything to eat.
But because of all that fun stuff, the not sleeping and not eating and things, he often finds himself taking... unplanned naps. Waking up on the floor, his bed, his desk, one time even in his locker, but that was before his growth spurt. He's a little too big for that now.
Of course, this might take the cake, in terms of weird places he's woken up. He's never been to Gotham, that he remembers, and he certainly has never been to the Wayne Manor. He'd remember that, he thinks, what with the grand architecture, the giant paintings of random people with pearl necklaces and suits... yeah he'd know if he'd been here before.
"Ah, you are awake."
He tries really, really hard not to react to the sudden, aged voice next to him. It sounds like a nice guy, mature and soft like a wool blanket. But he has no idea where he is, when it is, anything, so in one second he's still on the big bed (which it is a BIG bed) and the next he's... well.
Floating ten feet in the air with his fist raised.
To his credit, the older gentleman staring up at him merely blinks, then sighs. "Another enhanced fellow, I suppose. Of course you are."
It's enough to lower Danny's hackles, his confusion growing the amount of time it takes to slowly float back to the floor.
"Can I uh... Can I ask where I am?"
The older man gives him a look. "You, young man, are in the Wayne family home. I'll ask you not to touch anything until the young Master gets back."
That... didn't really clear anything up, if Danny was being real. So he tried again. "Can I ask, uh. Why I'm here, sir?"
Mama didn't raise a ruffian with no manners.
Another sigh, the older man looking like he wanted to go take a nap himself. "I am not fully sure, myself. Young Master Damian found you, I suppose, and brought you here. You have been unconscious for a day or so."
Well. That was concerning all on it's own. Who was Damian? Was he a Wayne? Why was Danny in Gotham at all, he didn't remember a field trip or anything involving Vlad.
He might have started panicking if there wasn't the sudden, entirely too enticing smell of pancakes suddenly under his nose.
"You're entirely too skinny, young man. It's breakfast time." The older gentleman said, holding a tray of wayyy too much food for one person in front of Danny, and really...
What was he gonna do? Deny the man?
He would have to figure out what the hell was going on, later. Right now he had a date with the nicest looking spread he'd ever seen.
"And young man, you may call me Alfred."
Danny grinned, gently taking the tray from him and setting it on a nearby table. "Danny. It's good to meet you."
"Hmm." Alfred mumbled. "I certainly hope so, Master Danny. I certainly hope so."
(pt 2 here)
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