#but anyway i realized how much more... optimism i had for this blog even a few months ago compared to where i am now

[nu-carniviva]

I'm not expecting this to gain much traction since it involves a personal oc of mine (and it's not a ship— which you'll realize immediately) but hey, this is my blog and I can post what I want >:3

Anyways, I realized that Quincy and Sisu, an oc of mine, would have a super wholesome friendship. Long post ahead, sorry ^^;

Starting with a bit of context for Sisu...

Sisu is a girl who is forever 9 years old. Her exact age isn't known. All that is known is that she's been alive for a long time but never ages past 9 years old. She's nonverbal and autistic. She communicates in many different ways, but one trait of hers is that she can communicate with any kind of animal by replicating their sounds

Like any typical child, she's curious and eager to learn more about the world, especially by exploring it herself. She's also very optimistic, but her optimism far surpasses the ordinary child. It's very hard to upset Sisu. The world is so fun and magical to her that she can often be seen laughing in the face of danger... For the most part

See, Sisu suffers from a poor memory. She's only able to remember so much about her life. Whenever she's one year "older," big chunks of her memory will be wiped from the year prior. She always remembers things like her name, age, interests, and people she's super close with, but she might not remember certain big life events. Sisu gets really upset when she's asked to remember something but can't. Re-learning some of life's hardships like death can upset her too

Okay enough context, onto the main point...

I'm sure you might have picked up on a few things that would bond Sisu and Quincy

Like Quincy, she never ages. They've both lived for a long time but still keep the same young appearance. I think they would find comfort in each other knowing that they share a similar lifestyle. They'd be less alone together

Quincy doesn't talk much, and Sisu doesn't talk... At all. I think he'd appreciate being able to communicate without talking (ex: through body language.) Also, since she can perfectly replicate animal noises, she can verbally communicate to Quincy by mimicking Topper's noises. After all, Quincy can canonically understand Topper's squeaks. I think Sisu would be overjoyed to find a way to talk to someone verbally and be understood

It's shown in the Astral Duo event that living for so long has had quite the toll on Quincy. 100 years ago, Quincy was a talkative, energetic man who was friends with the human tribes in the Wood Territory. As of now, he's the exact opposite. He's quiet, constantly exhausted, and alone. It would probably be refreshing seeing someone so young and full of the same innocent joy he used to have. I like to imagine he'd want to try and protect Sisu from being exposed to the dangers of life, regardless of how positive she is

Since Quincy remembers a lot of his life, he has a lot of wisdom that's always expanding as the years go by. Sisu would absolutely eat that up. She'd accompany Quincy on little adventures in the forest. What might be a simple journey to acquire more resources to Quincy is a chance to explore the magic and wonders of the world to Sisu

Of course, Quincy might not be close with her at first. After all, he's used to living alone. He rarely ever interacts with other people, even more so with children. Having to become acquainted with an energetic young child would be troublesome

But then... He notices how Sisu doesn't fear him. Rather, she becomes fascinated with him at first glance. Just the size of this man alone is enough to pique her interest and urge her to learn more about him. Her and Topper would be like his cute little helpers. Speaking of Topper, Sisu would have absolutely no issue giving Quincy some time to socially recharge while she plays with Topper

Okay I'm done lmao...

Sisu might not remember everything, but she'd always remember Quincy and Topper

I tried to keep this short but I know I ended up rambling a bit anyways. I hope this all made sense. It's late at night while I write this and I'm honestly super sleepy but I really wanted to get this written down because it's been on my mind all day. Maybe I'll talk about them more if you guys are interested! It can be like... Something exclusive to my blog that you wouldn't find anywhere else

Thank you to anyone who read, by the way! I'm happy you were interested in reading about a silly crossover between Quincy and an oc of mine :)

#can't tell if they'd have more of a father/daughter relationship or a brother/sister relationship #either way they see each other as family #okay maybe i'm a huge sucker for the big brooding man befriends small optimistic child trope #it's MY autism and i WILL include my hyperfixation in everything and there is NOTHING you can do about it #nu carnival #nu carnival quincy #nu carnival au #i guess #do not fucking tag this as a ship i am so fucking serious i will block you immediately

[theonlinevegan]

How long have you been vegan for? Nice page

Thank you,

I have been vegan since May 2015.

This year that will be for 8 years now.

Before going vegan I’ve been on and off vegetarian, having no answers to how I should live or eat. I remember still eating fish, as a teenager, because my family was concerned about my nutrients, I never liked the taste and texture of meat anyway. I didn’t want to know what animal the meat came from, I couldn’t chew knowing someone had died for this. Something psychologically in me knew already this was wrong. Adults like doctors and parents were indoctrinated to believe meat was necessary for optimal human health. And at that time the internet was not the same as today. We didn’t have much knowledge spread as much as now. When someone at school told me: still eating fish does not make you a vegetarian, I knew she was right. So I stopped eating all animals right away. I cared about animals and I wanted to label myself a vegetarian. Something felt wrong about being untrue or hypocrite. I never hated people for telling me the truth. I don’t understand people who do that, unfortunately are the most common. Years later, at the age of 24 I met a vegan guy who cooked a plant-based dinner for me and I asked him a few questions about honey and I realized I knew nothing about food, I didn’t know how it’s made and I should really look into this. I admired him for his conviction and I also spoke about him to my few friends and they were immediately biased and told me he was weird. He has no idea I would be vegan shorty after meeting him. Those friends also left me shorty after. One night I watched a speech video form Gary Yourofsky. ‘The best speech you’ll ever hear’ on YouTube. And that really was the breakthrough for me. Unlike other reducetarians, I cut off everything immediately in one night. I knew I needed to know my vitamins, my nutrients and really stay away from all animal protein. It’s only been hard at first to be vegan around social situations. Every time I went out, I had to take nuts and fruits with me, because vegan options were almost non-existing at that time. I made it work, because I knew this was good for me, for the animals, for the environment, for everyone. And right when I stopped eating anything containing milk or eggs, I immediately felt more energized and even lost a few pounds (being overweight that was ok). I felt good and I looked good and I told people it was because I went vegan. I’m not vegan for health reasons, but I am disgusted by anything non-vegan now. I wouldn’t eat anything that isn’t vegan for any money of the world. It feels very filthy to put the product of misery and death into my body. I can’t even touch wool or smell leather without feeling sick to my stomach. I know what goes into that. I’ve seen documentaries like ‘earthlings’ and dominion’. You don’t have to, if that’s too horrific for you, but ask yourself this: if it’s not good for my eyes, why would it be good for my stomach? Staying away from violence has made me a peace seeker. I eliminate what cultivates violence and I speak up against injustice. Although I’m not a tough-looking person, I don’t scream out loud that meat is murder, but I find my own ways to make it clear that this is wrong.

I’m glad people enjoy my blog. I had no idea I would gain so many followers. I really made this blog for my own collection of memes and information about veganism. I used to put these on my personal Facebook but I quickly ran out of friends who cared and family started to get annoyed by the many graphic content or the many requests to go vegan now. So I didn’t want to throw away everything I accumulated. I wanted to have a place to find quickly a meme to respond. By the search bar in this blog, it is possible to took up ‘meat’ or ‘eggs’ or ‘bacon’ or ‘canines’ or ‘plant feel pain’ as a respond to a non-vegan harassing you with vegan questions. I needed a place to have these memes ready. And because I’ve be been managing this blog on my own, it hasn’t been consistent with posting, but I almost never post something twice. Because I know exactly what I’ve already seen and what I’ve already shared here. I don’t want to shove veganism in everyone’s face. Unlike what it seems in this blog, in real life, people don’t even know I’m vegan until we eat together.

[pazodetrasalba]

Nec Otium

Dear Caroline:

I really should find the time for reading some more philosophy. I am afraid that I've had to be an autodidact in this area, which means I've mostly delved in history and Continental thinkers, but relatively little on ethics and the good life. One could say that it was your blog that opened my eyes a bit to these sorts of debates. I've already talked too much about my deontological instincts, but I think I'd find Virtue Ethics appealing in many ways -the part of 'becoming a better version of yourself-. I am giving utilitarianism more of my time and reflection, but it still feels distinctly alien and disagreeable to my mind, and here, besides my truth zealotism, I suspect there's also my Humanities background at play, my deeply ingrained dislike for pragmatic and chrematistic value, and my appreciation with things in and for themselves (including autonomous and self-realizing subjects).

I mention philosophy because in this post, despite what you say of EA not feeling all-consuming to you, here you come through as in full-blown, utilitarian mode with the optimization of your free time. Like, I understand that even when we are trying to have fun, we prioritize, and we can use different scales for this, like intensity of pleasure, or balance of usefulness and pleasure. In my case, it usually means reading and studying, and I feel 0 guilty conscience for any of them, even though I am split sometimes between books I think I should read and lighter, purely entertaining, fare.

Anyway, you did seem to be making too much of a work out of pleasure, and that probably did not contribute at really optimizing it, I'd fear. I remember reading somewhere in this ocean of words of yours that you were slightly masochistic, and perhaps there's an element of that at play here, some dark pleasure you might have gotten in denying yourself satisfactions and following some self-imposed dictates of duty and hardship.

The part were you talk about kids and your mum is interesting. A common complaint is that our society is too narcissistic and pleasure-seeking (one is surprised, for example, when reading the Roman and Greek classics at how indifferent their value-systems were towards happiness as such). Doing things for others (and more so for close others, which despite Peter Singer, are in a completely different class from indistinct others) feels like a net good for both you and them, and elevates you to a superior and better sphere of humankind. A true homo -and femina- sapiens. Still, I believe it necessary for there to be some intertwining of this with the fulfilling of your potential, goals and pleasures as an individual.

Quote:

The meaning of life is to find your gift. The purpose of life is to give it away.

Pablo Picasso

#caroline ellison #happiness #duty

[chasingpj]

𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐨 𝐝𝐞 𝐜𝐨𝐥𝐨𝐫

pairing: leo valdez x child of iris!reader

requested?: yes!

translation: full of color

warnings: uhh, mentions of mental health and ?? maybe some typos lmao

category: headcanons, fluff, best friends to lovers

pre-relationship

though, leo saw you around camp often, you caught interest in him before he caught interest in you

i mean, he literally couldn't miss you because your outfits were always bright, whether it was a combination of colors or monochromatic

you and your siblings actually look like a rainbow threw up on you guys, and it's honestly iconic

no one at camp can not notice the children of iris, especially when they're in a herd

one day, you were sitting alone at a picnic table near the lake, and you found yourself drawing him in your sketchbook

you sketched a portrait of him while he spoke to piper at a table nearby

you've always found the floppy curls and how his brightest smiles always look a little manic to be adorable

when you sketched his portrait in your notebook, you didn’t intend for him ever to see it

until a couple of weeks later in the arts and crafts center, leo passed by and caught sight of a new project you were working on

he stopped in his tracks to compliment your drawing

since you were nowhere near done with it, you couldn’t admire the piece as much as he was

but his enthusiasm was so endearing

he politely asked if he could see more, and you didn’t hesitate to slide over your sketchbook

he noticed a lot of your drawings were scenery and people at camp; especially your siblings

he stumbled across a detailed sketch of a woman and her child sitting in a bus

“wow… who’s this?”

“oh, I don’t know. It was just a little girl I saw on the train with her mother.”

“so you just drew her?”

you never realized how weird your habit of drawing random people was until he had asked

you giggled nervously, quick to explain yourself, “I tend to draw people or things that I find beautiful. I wanted to capture how calm and happy she was with her child ‘cause at the time, I was stressed and angry. Watching and drawing her made me calm.”

leo nodded, a faint smile on his lips before looking back down at the drawing. “that’s really cool,” he complimented, and you shifted in your seat, suddenly shy.

And then it hit you

you were so willing to show leo all your works that you had completely forgotten that his portrait was in that book

your pulse thumped loud in your ears, mind racing to figure out a way to take away your sketchbook before he could see it

you ended up spending so long thinking of what to do that he arrived on the page in no time

right before he could see the drawing in its entirety, you slammed the book closed and snatched it

leo’s startled expression turned into a mischievous smirk

“was that me?”

you froze in your place; a squeaky sound escaped your throat in your embarrassment

leo’s brown eyes sparkled as he leaned into you, your gaze fixed on his, “y/n, you think I’m beautiful?”

AHHHH!

^^ that was you in your head btw

leo laughed, amused at your attempt to deny it

“then why did you snatch it away?” he raises an eyebrow before reaching over quickly to grab the sketchbook back

you didn't pull it out of his reach fast enough, leo getting a grip on one side

the two of you pull it back and forth, leo laughing at you as you continued to deny what he saw

though you were incredibly embarrassed, you couldn't contain the laughter bubbling in your chest

gods, of course, this would happen to me, you thought

he got it out of your grip, and you sighed in defeat, watching him flip to the page of him and piper

he was quiet, studying the picture for a second before giving you that playful smirk

“you think I’m beautiful?” he asked again

you playfully rolled your eyes, “it was more piper than you.”

your tone was sarcastic, only fueling leo’s banter with you

“oh really?” he chuckled to himself, “but i’m the only one colored in.”

you were silent at his observation before scoffing, “whatever.”

leo only laughed as you take the book away from him

“don’t you have somewhere to be, fire boy?” you asked and nudged his shoulder

the glint in your eyes made him smile, and he shrugged, “i guess i do. i'll see you around."

you nodded, too shy to do anything else, and he walked off

after that, leo took it upon himself to talk to you every day

leo teased you about the drawing all the time, and he found the way you would play along to be funny

before you both fell in love, you were close friends

you had such an optimistic point of view about life, and it was pretty contagious

somehow when leo was in the dumps about something, you always knew what to say

you were just so easy to talk to, and because of this, your friendship just grew naturally

your first kiss was towards the end of summer

leo invited you to hang out with him in bunker nine at, specifically, 6 pm

you teasingly asked if it was a date, and you remember the way he tensed up a bit

with a mumble, he asked, "what if it is?"

from the tone in his voice, you knew he wasn’t joking

in fact, his tone was hesitant, a part of him was expecting you to reject him

then the heavy pit in his stomach turned light when you smiled and said, "then I'm down."

the grin leo gave you made your heart flutter like crazy

your first date consisted of eating snacks and watching a movie on one of those portable DVD players

You picked up on the tension between you and him, and noticed the opportunities for a kiss kept passing

it was until Leo walked you to your cabin that night did you have a moment of boldness and asked, "so are you going to kiss me or?"

leo's eyes widen in surprise before his face broke out in the familiar smirk he gives when he flirts with you

you rolled your eyes playfully and grabbed the front of his shirt, pulling him into you

your first kiss was sweet and soft; a little awkward

his hands hovered over your sides for a second, not sure what to do with them until he decided to rest them on your waist

it was the perfect way to mark the beginning of your relationship

relationship

since you guys are both broke teenagers, you got creative with date nights

you came up with the idea of paint splattering with him

you guys got canvases, covered the walls and floors with plastic to make sure you didn't dirty them

then you filled water balloons with paint and just threw them

despite you guys singing and dancing around in the midst of it, the canvases came out so good

and to commemorate the beginning of your relationship, you hung them up side by side in bunker nine, and when you guys get a place together, you hang them up in the hallway of your apartment

leo is a huge gift giver; as i’ve said before in my “how he shows he loves you” headcanons

he’s made you a lot of things; canvases, jewelry, little trinkets with scrap metal

one of your favorite gifts from him is a suncatcher with rainbow quartz

you fell in love with it and when you move in together, you make sure to hang it up in the kitchen with the bunch of other suncatchers that he’s made you

i love the idea that you would attempt to bring more color in his wardrobe

a lot of his clothes are muted in color; you don’t mind it but you were interested to see what he’d look like in a colorful outfit like yours

To say the least, he was not that enthusiastic and maybe, you shouldn’t have put him in a monochromatic orange outfit but… you still thought he looked cute

leo thought he looked like a traffic cone though so it didn’t stick

it’s okay because you like him the way he is anyways

another thing is that you guys are super supportive of each other and leo loves just how you manage to lift his mood

once leo was having a bad mental health week

you guys were sitting under a tree, looking out at the water

his head laid on your shoulder and small sniffles came from the other

it hurt to see him like this and you wished you could do more to make him feel better

then you had the greatest idea to make a rainbow for him

so you did

leo was so stunned when he saw the rainbow form over the lake

he looked at you surprised and when you admitted to making the rainbow for him, the emotion on his face was indescribable

and then you laughed and held him when he started crying because he said it was the nicest thing anyone has ever done for him

another time, you insisted that meditation would be good for him

he literally sat down for like 3 minutes with his eyes closed before he was itching to get up and do something

even when he was sitting down, he was still bouncing his legs and fidgeting

so that fell through too but you still helped him in other ways and he’s so grateful for your optimism and bubbly personality

leo always says that you bring color to everything; literally and figuratively

one of the things you bring color to is his life

and he’s constantly reminding you of this; that his world just feels brighter now that you’re around

and it’s literal too

since you painted the walls of bunker nine a bright orange

he asked you why orange, and you told him because orange encourages productivity, creativity, and most importantly, optimism

it may have also reminded you of the orange outfit you put him into

anyways, you told him that it hurt you to see him get down in the dumps, and you insisted there was no way he could be sad in a bright orange room

needless to say, you were kinda right

masterlists taglist: @nct127bee @minamisulemisa @yanfeisluvr @cartocns @slytherclaw-kitten @idk-bye-no @percysbluehairbrush @Hermioneswifeee @quteez @drayshadow @ashookykooky @anything-forourmoony @loverstyless @yelenabel0vaswife @ohmydamgods @jordannfields @amy-writes-blog @muted-mayham @dreamerball @earthtokace @thehighladyofday @lala-llama123 @tootsdoll @slytherindaughterofposeidon0 @black-rose-29 @somekidnamedkai @possiblylostchasecousin @hamdehlesmis @cami05sworld @does-anyone-hear-me @sol-the-salmon

if your username is bolded that means i can’t tag you ! you probably have your visibility settings on!

#leo x reader #leo valdez fanfiction #leo valdez one shot #leo valdez imagine #leo valdez #leo valdez timestamp #leo valdez fanfic #leo valdez x reader #leo valdez x you #leo valdez headcanon #my writing

[beyondspaceandstars]

Lights

Relationship: Din Djarin x Reader Warnings: N/A, just fluffy Summary: Din wakes up to you and the child stringing lights up around the Razor Crest A/N: super big shoutout to this post for helping me understand the floor plan (I am not the strongest with writing about ships!) also I have just kicked off this writing blog. this is like my third attempt at keeping one of these going so good vibes only

Cold. It was cold. That was the first thing Din registered as he shifted closer to where your body should have been. He patted the side next to him, still slightly in a dazed state, expecting to feel your curves under his fingers but he came up empty.

Squinting through the dim area, he searched for a hint of your figure but quickly found he was truly alone. Even the child wasn’t in sight. And that combination triggered the panic growing within him. You could be anywhere, he sleepy mind put together. Just out there, walking through whatever dark places this planet could hold. You both could’ve been kidnapped for all he fucking knew.

As he started to wake up with a mind flooding with the unthinkable, a muffled thud came from somewhere inside the ship. At least… he thought so? Or was it outside it? Either way, it was certainly not a typical sound.

It didn’t technically sound like a body dropping dead, Din thought hopefully, and was now growing confused combined with the concern. At least he knew someone was around and that someone could very well be you.

With some last sliver of optimism, he ventured out to look for you.

Eyes suddenly blinded by a burst of sunlight, Din realized the ramp was down. He wasn’t sure if this eased his mind or brought up more questions. Everything else seemed to be in perfect condition — well, as perfect as stuff could be on the Crest.

He was making his way to the open ramp, fully prepared to yell out your name in terror, when your figure came into view. Standing at the bottom of the entrance, you were coddling Grogu while looking up at something. The child matched your gaze. Your mouth was moving, presumably talking to the wide-eyed creature snuggled in your arms.

If he wasn’t so frazzled, Din might’ve taken time to just watch you two, totally captivated by the scene. A real picture in his mind. A family, he liked to think.

But Din didn’t let allow himself the pleasure. He was instead focused on confronting you what the hell you were doing vanishing like that. But your loving voice calling to him broke his concentration.

"Morning, sleepy!" You exclaimed.

The child situated in your arms made a happy coo at the arrival of his father, making your heart flutter.

"Y/N, what happened? Are you okay?" He spoke fast but stern. You didn’t have to see it to know he was staring you down with the disappointing look in the galaxy. You frowned, a bit confused.

"I’m fine, honey," you said. "I and Grogu were just-,"

You were cut off by the child in your arms point upward at the ship, making happy sequels at the objects above. Din’s stance shifted, as he followed Grogu’s line of sight, a hit of curiosity in his body language.

There, above them, — actually, decorating much of the Razor Crest’s exterior — were strings and strings of colorful lights. They went on for what felt like ever. You and Din watched as the child moved the lights. Some were shifted to his liking while others looked like they were just blowing in the wind.

"What… Why?" Din asked, turning back to your smiling face. Any and all worry and been totally replaced by pure bewilderment for the situation. You patted Grogu’s head in encouragement as he marveled proudly at the light work you two had done.

"Well, this little guy woke up early," you began explaining, "and we certainly didn’t want to wake you and have a grumpy Mandalorian walking around, so, we headed down to the market-,"

"You went to a market?" Din cut you off. His emotions were bubbling again. "Alone?"

You slowly nodded, "We were fine. It wasn’t that far. Just beyond that path." You motioned towards the way in which you came and went. "Anyways, we found these lights someone was selling. They were like, a lot of lights but you should’ve seen this dude’s face. He was in awe! I couldn’t pass them up and the next thing I know, we get back and he’s putting them up. I thought they added something… fun."

The child made silly babbling noises at your story, especially when you leaned in again to cuddle him just a bit closer. He seemed cozy, still enjoying the lights. You didn’t quite get the obsession with them, yet. It was bright out so they certainly weren’t lighting up but the colors were a nice contrast to everything else in the area. It was a real rainbow frenzy on the hunk of metal.

"Look, I…" Din sighed. He wasn’t even sure now what to feel. His emotional rollercoaster you unintentionally put him on had stalled. "I guess they’re fine but the real problem is about you wandering off into some town."

You frowned. He decided back on angry, protective mode, you guessed. You got the concern but also, you weren’t his prisoner. Besides, he had taught you some fighting skills. Whether you were still rusty on them or not was no one’s concern. You’d do your best to kick anyone’s ass, especially for the bundle of joy in your arms, whom you always properly hid under wraps for journeys. The only thing to really make out were those giant, gleaming eyes. You had gotten pretty good at disguising you two as a happy mother and totally-normal-nothing-to-see-here child.

"I… I know, but it wasn’t that crazy. It was early, the market was dead. Everything was okay. See?" You said, spinning in place, showing your man that you were much very alive and unharmed. "We’re still kicking."

Din sighed, "I can see that, darling, but it’s just… Don’t ever scare me like that again."

Now it was your turn to sigh. You didn’t mean to send him into a tailspin at your absence. In fact, you thought everything would be okay as you were back before he woke. But he was the worrying kind, which was very much understandable. Your heart sank. "I’m sorry, honey. I should’ve thought twice."

You started to feel quite bad about what you put him through as you realized the severity. You weren’t totally used to having a companion let alone one that had so much on their plate. There were little things you had to think about more seeing as you simply weren’t alone. While you were very happy with your current situation, your mindless wanderer heart had to be retrained. And you thank everything in the galaxy that your boyfriend was the understanding kind.

"It’s okay, sweetheart," he said and took your hand in his gloved one. You entangled your fingers, loving the comfort it brought. "I don’t mean to scare you or anything. I just can’t imaging losing… anything."

Stiff. He could definitely be a bit stiff with the endearing sentiments but you would take anything. In a heat of the moment action, you placed a sweet kiss on his helmet. You heard a low chuckle as you pulled away and you fought back the blush threatening to rise in your cheeks.

The child still wrapped in your arms started mumbling, pulling you two out of your loving moment. You two looked down at him to find him messing with the lights again. This time, he was pointing to another strand next to the ship. You walked over and grabbed them, placing the string in his little hands waiting to see what would do next. He started hovering then dropping them again and again, watching the colored bulbs reflect, looking like he was in his own little game of catch.

Din started stepping back to get a full view of his now-decorated ship. He knew they would have to be ripped down before any formal usage but he didn’t have the heart to tell you or the child that. Instead, he was going to admire how wholesome and innocent this moment in his life was. It was almost foreign, but good. A good different.

After scoping out the decor, he came back around to you, head cocked in more playful confusion now.

"How are they sticking up there?"

"I’m gonna be real honest, honey… I have no idea."

#the mandolarian #the mandalorian oneshot #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x female reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin oneshot #din djarin fanfiction #star wars #star wars one shot #star wars fanfiction #din djarin #fluff #oneshot #writing* #the mandalorian x reader

[syn0vial]

important question number 3 what do you have on boba and sintas vel 👀 - lekkui

i have... some things! honestly, i wish sintas’s portrayal had been a little more solid in the EU. it varied wildly between writers and in certain comics, she had little more characterization than “beautiful, tough bounty hunter chick.” i hope if they revisit her in new canon, they give her a more nuanced, more consistent depiction. also i’ll be ignoring said comics for the purposes of this post bc it’s my blog and i’m too sleepy for salt right now

but yes, onto the bullet points!

for those unaware, sintas vel was a female kiffar bounty hunter who boba tried to start a new life with when they were teenagers. they both got out of the bounty hunting game and settled down on concord dawn, where they got married and had a daughter, ailyn. boba was 16 and sintas was 18 at the time.

one of the things i find most interesting about the two of them, especially when they were teenagers: ailyn was consistently the more logical and level-headed of the two of them, while boba was always more emotional and impulsive. tragically, it’s this impulsivity that leads boba to fuck up so badly and, ironically, to transform into the emotionally detached asshole we know later on.

but yeah, this dichotomy is seen pretty early on in a flashback-by-proxy, in which we learn that the whole romantic run-away-together-and-get-married-and-start-a-new-life-somewhere-far-away plan? 100% BOBA’S IDEA. 

in particular, we get the briefest snippet of an exchange where boba is trying his hardest to convince sintas that this would be a good idea. and, no exaggeration, it goes like:

sintas: “i mean, it’s kind of very obvious that you don’t know what you’re doing--” boba: “THINGS I KNOW: YOU’RE GOOD AT SHOOTING THINGS. YOU’RE PRETTY??? I TRUST YOU A LOT. see this is a good idea :)”

TEENAGE BOBA FETT: PURE OF HEART, DUMB OF ASS

anyway, boba fett and noted-morosexual sintas vel make their way to concord dawn. here’s some things we know about their relationship before everything went to shit:

nicknames! they referred to each other with the first syllable of each others’ names: bo and sin. very cute :)

they got married using a traditional mandalorian wedding vow. neither of them had any idea what the mando’a meant, bless their hearts.

as a marriage token, boba gave sintas a small red heart-of-fire gemstone tied on a simple leather cord. it was the best he could afford which, at the time, wasn’t much. however, it had significance to sintas as a kiffar; kiffars are near-humans whose members possess an unusually high occurrence rate of telemetry, or the ability to read memories from objects. heart-of-fire gemstones were said to be among the best for storing such memories.

SHIPPY FIC WRITERS TAKE NOTE. three words to describe boba in a committed relationship: PROTECTIVE. AS. HELL. absolutely unwilling to tolerate so much as a dirty look towards sintas. maybe even a little paranoid. kind of understandable given how much grief he’d already endured in his short life.

it didn’t save them

ok, fair warning, here’s the point where shit gets traumatic, so if you want to know nothing but the relatively happy stuff, STOP READING HERE. also, CWs for manipulation, sexual assault, murder, and imprisonment, bc nobody in this canon is allowed to be happy :(

last chance to turn back!

ok. onto the traumatic shit.

so! boba and sintas are doing fine. operation stop-being-teenaged-bounty-hunters-and-try-to-pass-for-normal is going pretty well! not only do they have their own functional little family unit, but boba has a job as a journeyman protector. basically think of them as like. mando frontier lawmen. and on top of that, boba has been taken under the wing of his superior officer and son of a local magistrate, lenovar. 

we don’t know much about lenovar (like, is that his first or his last name, for example...) but we know that boba and sintas trusted him and that boba in particular looked up to him as both a friend and mentor. 

however, lenovar was not what he seemed. once he had the young couple’s trust, he managed to get sintas alone and raped her.

in the aftermath, sintas performed some brutally pragmatic mental calculus: lenovar was a high-ranking journeyman protector and son of a magistrate. she and boba were two struggling teenagers with a baby, escaping checkered pasts. retaliating against lenovar would likely destroy them. which meant not only that she couldn’t retaliate against lenovar; she had to make sure boba wouldn’t, either.

so. how do you keep your extremely protective, impulsive former-bounty-hunter husband from flying off the handle and murdering your rapist?

you don’t tell him about it. you don’t tell anyone about it :(

argh just reading this i’m feeling salty that we get so little of sintas’s perspective on any of this. it’s all just “how did this make boba feel? how did it affect boba’s life?” and it’s like GOOD GOD. this woman is now maybe 20 years old, making the absolutely-gutting decision to keep her sexual assault a secret from her closest friend bc it’s the only way to protect her and him and their daughter from being steamrolled by the system. and like, nobody thought to expand on that? 

nope, we just get a comic where she’s needlessly sexualized and drawn to look young enough to be boba’s daughter despite the fact that she’s older than him and ugh

OKAY. enough salt. moving on.

sintas’s plan works for all of a year, at which point boba somehow finds out the truth. and everything goes straight to hell.

boba, finding out that sintas kept her sexual assault by lenovar a secret for a whole year (and remember, boba was probably continuing to work under and look up to lenovar during this time), is utterly furious. of course, he wants nothing more than to murder the shit out of lenovar and is only further enraged when sintas tries to logically talk him out of it. in his anger, he proceeds to verbally torch ALL the bridges in their relationship, at one point even cruelly questioning if ailyn is even his daughter. he then storms off and makes good on his threats to kill lenovar

in the aftermath, boba was branded not just a murderer, but the murderer of his superior officer—an even more serious crime. yet, despite repeated interrogations, he refused to say why he had done it, fearing that doing so would drag sintas down with him. he only insisted that he felt no remorse for killing lenovar and that lenovar deserved to die.

in the end, his efforts didn’t save sintas—the courts seized all of what meager assets they had, leaving them all penniless. boba was then exiled from concord dawn and wouldn’t see his wife and daughter again for fifty years.

after everything that happened, boba was a changed person. it’s as if that spark of optimism and dare-i-say goodness that had survived his father’s death was snuffed out, leaving only a cynical, angry shell, laser-focused on violence because it was the one part of his father’s legacy he hadn’t yet failed.

sintas and ailyn, meanwhile, struggled to pull themselves out of poverty, with sintas reluctantly returning to bounty hunting to support them. ailyn never forgave her father for abandoning them, which led to its own equally-disastrous tragedy some decades down the line.

moral of the story is to listen to your wife and don’t make her sexual assault all about your stupid need for revenge. like, i get that the rapist needs to die but maybe like... work with your wife and make it look like an accident? don’t be an impulsive fucking inconsiderate idiot? maybe realize that your wife probably just endured the most hellish year of her life to protect YOUR dumb ass?

honestly, as frustrating as teenage!boba is, you can’t even be that angry at him bc like... he and sintas were both victims reacting imperfectly to absolutely shit circumstances. lenovar is the real villain here.

never going to be over how tragic it is that these two kids tried so fucking hard to derail their villainous origin stories, only to be forced onto even more brutal tracks bc the one adult they should’ve been able to trust in their situation ended up being a predator :(

#snowberry-pie #sintas vel #boba fett #lenovar #the fact that sintas was never spotlighted as a perspective character in the EU....... criminal

[asleepinawell]

Been having a lot of Thoughts about the nier series recently and the larger themes of both games and wanted to jot them down and toss them into the void of the internet.

Massive spoilers for nier automata follow, including for ending e. Do not read this if you ever intend to play nier automata. There are spoilers for nier replicant as well, though not for ending e.

One of the biggest themes both nier games tackle is the tragedy of an uncaring universe. Bad things happen to good people, people who think they're good and doing the right thing find out they were actually committing atrocities, the very idea that there's 'good' and 'bad' people is dissected and rejected. At the end of the day, the universe doesn't give a shit about any of us and none of it matters. Enjoy your existential despair!

In nier replicant, the main character starts off as an optimistic young boy who wants to save, not only his sister, but the entire world. After the time skip, nier is a young man whose optimism has (partially) been tarnished and whose goal has narrowed down to just saving his sister. As you move through each route you understand more and more how tragic the world is and how, despite your best intentions, you are only adding to the tragedy of the world. The original 4 endings of nier replicant are all tragic in some way. Ending D has a glimmer of hope in it in the form of nier being able to save kainé at the cost of his own existence, but it's a bittersweet ending and the world is ultimately doomed anyway.

Which brings us to nier automata. Even more so than replicant, automata hammers home the meaningless of everything, the uncaring universe, tragedy both avoidable and unavoidable. The main characters are locked in an endless loop of violence and despair. The worst that could happen, does, again and again. It thrives off the type of tragedy porn I usually hate.

Except....

Except it doesn't. If endings a and b are the opening statement, endings c and d are the facts and body of the essay, but then there's ending e, the concluding paragraph which takes everything we've been told and gives you the chance to draw your own conclusion from it.

Route e starts after you've gotten both ending c and d and is no longer about the characters in the game at all. Route e is about you, the player, and what you believe. It says "we've given you a story of complete despair, we've shown you the universe is unfair and doesn't give a fuck about you, we've shown you things that end in tragedy. despite all of this, do you still believe it's worth fighting for the hope of something better?"

And then it asks you to prove it.

Route e is the ending every fan has asked for when they've said "I'll fight the creators to give my favs a happy ending." Today is your lucky day!

Route e is the ending credits of the game, except that the ending credits have turned into a bullet hell mini game. In fighting the actual credits themselves, you are fighting the game devs. You are saying fuck you I don't believe that everything is pointless. Fighting for better is always worth it. The meaning that we imbue in life is important to us and that matters.

The bullet hell of the end credits starts out fairly simple and gets harder and harder as you go, lasting something like 15 minutes total, which is a brutally long time to be playing something that requires split second timing and 100% of your focus. It's meant to feel insurmountable, just like the challenges the characters in the game faced (the larger plot challenges, not the combat). You will likely die a lot and check points are few and far between.

But there's more to it than that. The first time you die, a prompt comes up:

And then when you die again:

Except now, there’s a message on the screen. A message that appears to be from another player, somewhere in the world.

And again:

(this one really fucked me up, but that’s for a different post).

And then finally:

(thank you user MR-YE-1996)

When you accept the rescue offer, you go back to the bullet hell again, but now you have a wall of other players around your weak little avatar, shielding you from harm. The music, which has been a single vocal track up until now, gains an entire chorus of voices to represent the army of actual players who’ve shown up to save you (and there’s a lot I could say about the use of the (exquisitely good) music in the nier games, and especially about the difference in lyrical themes between ashes of dreams and weight of the world). Every time a bullet hits one of the players surrounding you, there’s a message saying that user’s data has been lost. Users from all over the world are sacrificing themselves to help you. It’s a very nice, heart-warming moment that you still don’t understand the full impact of quite yet.

After you beat the credits, you’re rewarded by a final cutscene. The android protagonists have been reconstructed and will receive a second chance at life. The narration at this point talks about how life exists within the spiral of life and death we are all trapped in. One of the two pods talking points out that even though the androids are being given a second chance at life, there’s a possibility that things will go just as poorly once again. And the other pod agrees, but adds: “However, the possibility of a different future also exists.”

And then the scene ends with this quote: “A future is not given to you. It is something you must take for yourself.”

And this is really the final conclusion of the game. There is no inherent meaning in the universe, so the meaning we give our lives is the most meaningful thing. (And the ‘you’ here isn’t necessarily an individual either. It can be, or it can be humanity as a whole, or even one group). And you, the player, thought that it was worth fighting to give these characters a second chance, and other players out there in the world thought it was worth helping you to do so.

It’s such a wonderfully beautiful piece of meta interpretation posing as a game ending, and also a departure from the final conclusion of previous Yoko Taro games. It feels like a much more mature and nuanced interpretation of the world than the ending of replicant was (I won’t comment on the new ending e of replicant just yet since it didn’t come out that long ago). (Also, for the record, I love nier replicant and the characters in it with my entire heart. This post is not bashing it).

But the game has one more surprise in store for you. After the cutscene ends, you’re given one last choice. The game asks if you have any interest in helping other players the way you were helped. And if you say yes, you’re told that the only way you can do this is to sacrifice all your save data.

I think that sacrifice hits differently for different people. Some people genuinely won’t mind that at all. As someone who probably still has save data from games I played 20 years ago, it felt like a gut punch. To me, save data represents all the time and emotion and energy I’ve put into a game. Games are so deeply important to me in so many ways and have been since my childhood when they were one of the few ways I could escape from a lot of terrible shit going on in my life. (There’s a reason my blog title is what it is). I could talk a lot more about that point, but I’ll leave it by saying that when I saw what the game was asking of me it felt like someone had knocked my legs out from under me.

For more practical players, it also is locking you out of chapter select, the best way to go back and get all the things you missed and grab the achievements/trophies you still need.

The game will point out that you’ll get nothing in return for this (not a lie, there’s no secret reward), that you will likely never know if or who you helped, that you won’t be thanked, that the person you help could be someone you intensely dislike, etc. And with all of this comes the realization that all those people who came to help you in the credits had already done this. Those people whose data was sacrificed to help you get to the final cutscene had already sacrificed their save data to help you.

We’ve now gone from a world where everything is meaningless, to a world where other real actual human beings out there have sacrificed something that represented hours of their time and a varying amount of emotional investment without any hope of reward to help a stranger see a message of hope.

When I was younger, I was more drawn to dark, hopeless stories. Stories about how dark and meaningless the world was. The world was a terrible place then too. 9/11 happened when I was in highschool (an incident that influenced yoko taro’s creation of nier replicant and had a huge impact on me at the time), the pointless wars that happened after and the recession and a million other things seemed to infuse everything with hopelessness. In that world, stories about everything being meaningless and hopeless felt correct. They felt validating. Yes, everything really does suck that much!

That sort of story lost its appeal for me later on. Pointless and horrible things continued to happen, and still continue to happen. The world events of the last few years have been an unnerving reliving of those earlier years, except even worse. The cycles of tragedy are still there with no end in sight. I’m exhausted from all of it. It really does feel hopeless a lot.

But stories that stop at that point no longer appeal to me. Stories like nier automata--stories that say yes, things are terrible, but there’s always hope, you can create your own meaning, it is always worth it to fight for better even if you fail, your life is worthwhile simply for existing--those stories are the ones I think we all need more than anything.

#nier automata #nier automata spoilers #nier spoilers #nier #nier replicant #niermp #mp #sitting around having existential thoughts on a sunday afternoon #as one does #nier meta

[dessarious]

Guilt and Consequences Pt13

AO3   Beginning   Previous   Next

When she walked into the apartment Marinette was sitting on the floor by the coffee table going through a stack of papers. There was a second packet closer to the middle of the table. Lila hated filling things like that out. She was never sure how much information they needed or even if certain things were relevant. Given the unique nature of the school she had a feeling this was going to be worse.

“Do you know why Chloe is so invested in what you’re going to do about school?” Lila cursed at herself internally when Marinette jumped. She had a tendency to sneak up on people. It drove her mother insane. She’d actually put a motion sensor in her office doorway to make sure Lila didn’t see any of her work on accident. At least that’s what she said.

“Chloe?” Lila wasn’t certain if the confusion was from the question or the surprise.

“Yes. She was waiting for me after I got my stuff. She wanted to know what my game with you was and when I told her it wasn’t a game she seemed too interested in what your plans are.” More confusion. That had to be from the question right?

“That doesn’t make sense. Unless she’s making fun of me she acts like I don’t exist. Are you sure it was me she was worried about?” Lila replayed the conversation in her head again. Chloe wanted her gone, that was obvious, but she didn’t seem to care beyond that. When she’d asked about Marinette though… that was a different tone.

“Fairly certain. It was weird. Why exactly doesn’t she like you anyway?” Not that Chloe needed a reason other than feeling like they were beneath her, but it seemed like more. Marinette was her favorite target from Lila could tell.

“I think I hurt her feelings.” Well that was vague. She motioned for Marinette to continue. “When we first started school, everyone else seemed to be afraid of Chloe, or at least wanted to keep their distance.”

“But you were nice to her.” It wasn’t a question. That was just who she was.

“We were really close for a little while but everyone else hated me because I was friends with Chloe. I told her that I wanted to be friends with everyone and she didn’t take it well.” As dramatic as Chloe was that really didn’t seem like enough to set her off.

“So basically you said you wanted more friends and she started bullying you.” Marinette nodded. “But because of that you did end up getting more friends.” It was a logical conclusion but Marinette was looking at her like she’d lost her mind.

“That’s not… I mean yes but… You don’t think that was on purpose?” That hadn’t actually occurred to her but it was a possibility.

“Well, Chloe’s been entrenched in politics her entire life because of her father. I suppose she could have seen it as helping. Her resentment now would likely be because you didn’t realize what she’d done and she thinks you’re being ungrateful.” That sounded like Chloe. Lila had to wonder if the girl hadn’t stopped her lies just so that Marinette would find out how good she had things.

“So… she’s a better friend than the others?” Lila just blinked at Marinette. She couldn’t follow the girls reasoning. “I mean, I was her only friend and she gave that up so that I could have something I wanted. Maybe things didn’t turn out the way she expected, but she was trying to help.” Convoluted, but possibly accurate.

“I suppose you could see it that way, though I don’t know that it makes things better. Especially if she tries to cause problems for you once she finds out you’re not going back.” That at least got a thoughtful frown, but not the worry she thought Marinette should be feeling.

“I’ll talk to her. Everything will be fine, you’ll see.” Lila felt her eye twitch and she had to take a few deep breaths. She really didn’t understand that sort of optimism. Or delusion. She still couldn’t figure out which it was.

“Not alone.” Marinette opened her mouth to argue. “I mean it. No offense but you’re a terrible judge of what people are capable of and Chloe is not someone you want to underestimate. Maybe you’ll be able to explain things and it will be alright, or maybe she’ll accidentally push you down a flight of stairs. Having a witness is just common sense.” Marinette didn’t answer but she looked thoughtful at least. She decided to give her time to think about that problem. “So does this school require your firstborn or will a blood sacrifice suffice?” She just got a blank look for a moment before Marinette giggled.

“Neither. Though given the amount of forms, papercuts could make the blood sacrifice happen regardless. There’s at least ten pages that look like some sort of personality test. All the questions are open ended and you have to answer them on your own paper because there’s definitely no room between the questions.” Oh that wasn’t good.

“Yeah, there’s no way I’m getting into that school. The last time I had to take a test like that I was sent out of the country we were in.” She still had no idea why either. All she knew is that she’d been sent to that awful reeducation facility. They claimed it was a school for brilliant but troubled youths, but the only thing she’d learned there was how to keep her head down and how to answer their questions so she could get out. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“I’ll help you. Maybe you just didn’t understand all the questions. We could talk about different scenarios and possibilities before you write anything down.” Lila just frowned at her.

“That sounds like cheating.” Marinette looked shocked at the idea before shaking her head.

“I’m not going to tell you what to put down. We’ll just go over the questions so that we both are more certain what they mean. Some of them are worded oddly.” Lila still wasn’t convinced but honestly, she couldn’t afford to screw this up. Going behind her mother’s back to do this in the first place was going to cause enough drama. If her mother found out she tried and failed… yeah she didn’t want to think about that.

AO3  Beginning   Previous    Next

Ko-Fi

Tag List

@readeracctagmepls @aestheticnpoetic @akana-sama @schrodingers25 @runestarchild @paradoxal-occurance @heaven428 @animegirlweeb @deepestobservationwombat @iggy-of-fans @yin-390 @thehufflepuffranger-blog @trippingovermyfeet @misslenamooney @ladybug-182 @zalladane @pale-lady-dreamer @smolplantmum @peachedpocky @bezzy-d @naoryllis @sassakitty @18-fandoms-unite-08

#miraculous ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #lila rossi #lila redemption

[coccinelle-et-chaton]

*slips you a twenty*

Hey kid wanna read some lit fanfics? 

I just updated my blog with a link to all my AO3 works

Also...... Chapter 8 of The Wall Between Us is up and it’d be cool if you read it or whatever, a bunch of us are gonna be there, we’re gonna cry and order pizza and suffer for the love square it’s gonna be cool 

Read Chapter 8 on AO3 Start from the beginning here

Or on this post below the cut! 

The Wall Between Us 

Summary: Marinette is left to pick up the pieces after losing her chance with Adrien and having Master Fu give up his memories to protect the Miraculous Box. She struggles to find her ground as the new Guardian, and finds unexpected support in Luka Couffaine. Simultaneously, Adrien is learning how to navigate his emotions and slowly growing into his role as future co-guardian, and in the process realizes important truths about his feelings for Kagami, Marinette, and Ladybug. When Ladybug tells Chat Noir that as the Guardian, she is okay with not only revealing their identities but also entrusting her secret to close friends of hers, things become unequivocally complicated for the superhero duo. Will Marinette and Adrien be able to sort through their feelings and do what’s best for the Miraculous team?

Chapter 8

By the time Gabriel and Natalie had returned from their business trip to Seoul–and really, Adrien wasn’t even sure they had been gone at all due to the fact Akumas were aplenty during their absence– he had already extracted a good volume of information to make a case for his suspicions.

He hadn’t found the evidence he needed to prove that his father was indeed Hawkmoth, but instead he had found years of badly-filed fiscal reports, personnel that had been hired and fired under very mysterious conditions, some sort of project for the mansion that his father paid millions for which Adrien had never seen, and the one that irked him the most: audits from France’s Child Protection Services, fines, and ‘cease and desist’ letters warning Gabriel that he was putting Adrien under too many work hours.

That, he discovered, was the real reason why Adrien had been allowed to go to school in the first place. It wasn’t that Natalie had made him a favor: They enrolled him so that Child Protection Services would get off the brand’s neck for forcing Adrien on a part-time job when he wasn’t even sixteen yet.

All of Adrien’s findings were pretty incriminatory, not to mention infuriating, but none were exactly what he was looking for. And yet, it was one of those things that once you have considered, you cannot help but keep seeing.

“Adrien, would you like to explain to me why you have been missing your extracurricular activities for the past two weeks?” Natalie said with a stern voice one morning, as Adrien meticulously chewed on his oatmeal breakfast.

The fiery urgency to flip a table, which had taken a hold of him lately any time Natalie or his father addressed him, surged like a geyser.

“I just didn’t feel like attending,” he said politely, without looking up.

Natalie was taken aback by his answer. “Excuse me?”

Adrien looked up this time. “I didn’t feel like attending,” he repeated. “You weren’t here, and I just didn’t feel like going.”

“You know if you start doing poorly, your father will have you homeschooled again and–”

“And what? He’s gonna lock me up again? Is that it? Wouldn’t people start asking questions?” he demanded.

Natalie blinked, completely caught off guard by Adrien’s sudden rudeness. “This is no way to be talking to your–”

“My what? My dad’s assistant? You’re not my babysitter, not my teacher, and certainly not my mother. I can do whatever I want.”

Natalie composed herself and marched swiftly out of the dining room.

“Kid, what the hell?” Plagg hissed from inside his shirt. “That’s a dumb way to get caught.”

“I’m sorry,” he muttered back. “I’m just… I’m so angry at them! I can’t stop thinking about all this stuff that I found, and just… the idea of them being–well, you know who. It’s making me see in red.”

He marched to the patio and went into his car, where, to his surprise, he found he’d be sharing a ride with his father.

He felt Plagg jabbing his little paws at him as if to say, “I told you so.”

“F-father. Good morning.”

“Drive, George,” Gabriel instructed. After a silence, he spoke again without looking at Adrien. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you? Disrespecting Natalie like that, blatantly disregarding your responsibilities, and giving the brand bad publicity.”

He threw a newspaper at Adrien’s lap. It was from a few days ago. Apparently his sudden outburst at the crowd of harassers in the skate park had made it into the news.

“I’m beginning to think it was a mistake to give you this much freedom.”

Adrien gulped, shuddering with sudden terror.

“Perhaps it will be better if you go back to being tutored at home. Or even better, I’ll send you to a boarding school where I don’t have to deal with your carelessness anymore.”

Adrien gasped. “Please… please don’t. Don’t send me away.”

“You’re not feeling so brave and boldened now, are you? Do you have anything to say for yourself?”

Adrien didn’t move. He didn’t dare speak, breathe, blink.

The car had stopped already, they were at the steps of the school. His friends were all hanging at the entrance and had spotted him.

“Your lack of words doesn’t surprise me. You’re just a naive, spoiled little boy who can’t begin to understand the sacrifices I make for this family… You’re dismissed.”

Adrien opened the door, not yet getting off the car.

“Are you going to take me off school?”

“No. Take it as a gesture of good will, and a warning. Stay. In. Line.”

“I-if you send me away, people will start wondering what happened,” he said with a small voice. “They’ll ask questions.”

“And what sort of questions would those be, son?”

At Adrien’s silence, Gabriel sighed. “Close the door. Have a good day.”

He got up and stood in front of the car, breathing deeply so as to not give into the urge to cry.

“I can’t wait to be eighteen to get away from you,” he said and smashed the door close as hard as he could, then sprinted into the school building, afraid that Gabriel might order George to stick him back in the car.

Regrettably, all his friends, Marinette included, saw the display unfold.

It was Nino the one who ran after him.

“Hey, dude, everything alright?” Nino said, as he caught up with him in the locker room.

“Hey Nino, good morning!” he chirped with sunny disposition.

The sudden contrast between what he had seen at the school entrance and then, gave Nino whiplash.

“Erm. Yes, good morning. Don’t ignore my question.”

“Nothing happened,” he said shrugging. “Come on, we’ll be late for—”

Nino yanked the strip from his messenger bag and forced him to stop. “Cut the crap, Adrien. I saw. Is everything alright?”

Adrien’s mask of optimism wavered, but he fought hard to keep it in place. “Yes, Nino. Everything’s alright. I promise.”

Nino sighed, not impressed. “Okay, if you say so.”

As they went into the classroom, Adrien saw from the corner of his eye how Nino shook his head discreetly at the girls. He had been right not to tell him. He knew those two would also want to know what happened. He didn’t want to cause hysteria. However, a more pressing thought occupied his mind for the rest of the day.

Given his regrettable display of temper, and though his father said he wouldn’t pull him out of school, Adrien knew not to trust it. One could never anticipate what his father would do just to stay in control. It worried him that he may have crossed a line that would be difficult to come back from. His father might increase his security, might actually pull him out of school. Not ideal, if his hunch was actually right.

He had to tell Ladybug what he knew as fast as possible.

On the lunch break, he excused himself to the bathroom, taking the burner phone with him to send Ladybug a message:

I DECIDED I’M READY TO REVEAL MY IDENTITY. SOMETHING CAME UP. DON’T WORRY, I’M NOT IN DANGER. BUT WOULD IT BE OKAY IF WE MEET AT THE HANG OUT TODAY? PLEASE WRITE ME BACK AS SOON AS YOU GET THIS.

He kept inconspicuously checking the burner phone for the rest of the day, getting no answer from Ladybug whatsoever. It made him restless. What if she was in danger?

No, she couldn’t be. There would have been an Akuma attack or something.

Still, he was worried, and he knew he couldn’t afford to go back home that day without having told Ladybug about his suspicions, so he resolved to drop by the hang-out anyway later that day. Natalie and George would pick him up after fencing, which gave him enough time to swing there and come back.

It only occurred to him that this might not be the greatest idea once he found himself sans transformation, standing at the door of the hide-out.

What if she wasn’t there today? What if she’s shocked by learning who he is?

He shook his head. No. This was an emergency. He had to do it now, so he ringed the bell.

He texted: LB DID YOU GET MY MESSAGE?

Almost immediately, he got a text back: YES :) I AM HERE. WAIT A SEC. WILL OPEN THE DOOR SOON.

His heartbeat so fast he could hear his pulse. He was short of breath and felt as if his knees would buckle under him at any second.

He heard some voices, then someone approaching to open the door.

Adrien felt temped to open it himself just get over the painful anticipation. The seconds extended for an eternity.

And then, all of a sudden, he was greeted with a most confused Alya Cesaire.

“Alya?”

She crumpled her face, perplexed. “Adrien? What are you doing–”

From inside the house, Adrien distinctly heard the voice of none other than Marinette. “Alya? Is that him?”

It took him a fraction of a second to figure out something that had taken him two–almost three now– years to realize. It felt as if time had stopped and then abruptly resumed, pushing him into a turbulent shore of angry waves.

All of a sudden, it was hard to breathe, impossible to buoy to the surface for a gasp of air. His voice caught up in his throat.

He figured it out.

“Alya?” Marinette repeated from inside the house as Alya stood petrified in front of Adrien, realizing exactly who he was.

“Don’t–” he said gasping. “Don’t tell her,” he pleaded and then darted away as fast as he could possibly run, only stopping when the tears completely blurred his vision.

Back at the house, Marinette was trembling from the utter anticipation. She had requested that Alya come with her to meet Chat. She wasn’t sure she could take it by herself and she needed someone for moral support.

The seconds of wait stringed into whole minutes of silence and Marinette forced herself to march to the front of the house, where Alya was still clinging to the frame.

She was… were those tears? Was she crying?

“Alya?” she asked with trepidation. “What happened?”

“Chat— Oh, Marinette!” She gasped. “Chat was here. He was–he wasn’t transformed.”

Dread came over Marinette’s expression. “Where is he?” she insisted urgently, “What happened?”

“He– he’s gone. Mari, you need to talk to him. You–we… we know him.”

She blinked, too shocked to let fear take ahold of her. “What? Who is he?”

Alya shook her head. “I can’t tell you.”

“Why?” Marinette demanded.

“Marinette, I can’t tell you. You’ll never forgive me if I do… Just… You have to go talk to him, Mari.”

Marinette sprinted outside, hoping to catch a glimpse of ‘someone she knew’, but it was the beginning of rush hour and the streets flooded with commuters, anonymizing everyone. She called and called and called him. Left him voice mail after voice mail, message after message:

CHAT NOIR PLEASE PICK UP! I’M WORRIED, PLEASE!

CHAT.

CHAT PLEASE.

ALYA SAYS YOU KNOW HER, SO MAYBE YOU ALSO KNOW ME... I’M SORRY IF YOU’RE DISAPPOINTED IT’S ME. CAN WE PLEASE JUST TALK?

MINOU. PLEASE. TALK TO ME.

CHAT NOIR, I KNOW YOU’RE MAD. PLEASE, JUST… PLEASE PICK UP.

Chat Noir did not pick up the phone and Marinette, well, Marinette had not been this brokenhearted since Adrien had started dating Kagami, and that was saying something.

Adrien didn’t sleep that night. He hadn’t cried this much since he lost his mother, hadn’t felt this much either.

He never was one to give into negative emotions, but when they got the best of him, they pulled him deep into an abyss that was hard to crawl out of. If any butterflies came flying his way, he wouldn’t have known. Plagg kept guard the entire night.

“I can’t do this anymore, Plagg,” he confessed. “I can’t–I can’t be Chat Noir anymore. It hurts too much.”

“Kid don’t say things like that,” said Plagg as Adrien sobbed. “I’m sure there’s a way to fix this.”

“She loves someone else,” he cried. “I can’t… She’ll never love me, Plagg. It doesn’t matter if I wear the mask or not.”

“That’s not true,” Plagg said, fetching the burner phone. “Look at how worried that poor thing is for you.”

Adrien kept crying. “She doesn’t love me the way I love her. I won’t stand in her way.”

The next morning, Adrien had to put on very little effort to act indisposed for school. He hadn’t come down with anything, but he felt sick. At one point during the night, he had been so caught up in his crisis that he ended up emptying his stomach. In the morning he had woken up from the few hours of sleep he managed to clock in with an insulting headache and even worse nausea than before.

He called in sick and remitted to his room for the next couple days.

It was funny. He never remembered feeling safe or at home in his room. It was too big, too cold for him and somehow at the same time, too small, too stuffy. It was as if his dad had tried to fit in the entire world inside it in the hopes that he’d never want to see the real thing himself.

It wasn’t comfort what made him feel like he belonged there. It was the fact that for once, his surroundings completely matched his state of mind. This is how he felt: as empty and grey as the mansion had been since his mother disappeared, as much of a prisoner as his father intended for him to be.

He groaned at the sound of his civilian phone chiming non-stop with messages from Nino asking if his father had done something to him, Marinette offering him any help if he needed it–these were the ones that hurt him the most to read–, and finally, Alya, who was not sending messages so much as entire monologues begging him to answer at least Ladybug.

He turned off both his civilian phone and the one for Ladybug, hoping there would be no Akumas while he was in this state.

With Chat gone, Marinette regressed into the sort of grief that shut her down when she became the Guardian. She didn’t stop showing up to school, mainly at Alya’s pressing insistence, but it was evident to the class that something was going on with her again.

A few of her more curious friends and acquaintances ask her if everything’s alright with Luka, which only added  to her mortification. She hadn’t been herself these past days and she wasn’t exactly sure she’d be able to explain to Luka why she was so brokenhearted without giving her identity away; why Chat’s sudden rejection was way more painful than anything she ever had to go through. So, against her better judgement, she decided to ignore him for a couple days, at least until she was able to sort her head through the situation.

The truth is Chat’s disappearance–not only this one but every time he’s been convinced he’s not cut out to be her partner–hurled her into a spiral of helplessness not just because she couldn’t fathom doing this without him. There was another reason, one she always purposefully ignored.

It’s like she had told Alya: She had feelings for Chat Noir. It had become easier to ignore them with time, and especially when she could just invest all of her romantic attention on Adrien before Luka came around. But the thing with being in love with Adrien is that she was in love with the idea of him. The idea of being together if she could only one day bring herself to tell him. He was an outlet of sorts–more often than Marinette liked to admit out loud– to feelings she could never show, as they were forbidden.

The second reason why Marinette always fell into despair when Chat Noir surrendered or try to surrender his ring, was because she actually loved him. If she was honest, completely, absolutely honest, she loved him. But she could never tell him, it was Master Fu’s orders not to get involved with him, not to reveal their identities. She maneuvered through those restrictions by effectively fooling herself into believing that one day, in the far future when Hawkmoth was defeated and the stakes wouldn’t be so high, she’d tell him and then everything would be okay. She’d tell him the way you admit to a school crush on one of those high school reunions or unlikely encounters as adults.

Chat surrendering his ring always cut that fantasy short.

What is worse, Marinette realized, was that this time she wasn’t using the idea of someone to distract herself from the way she felt. She was using Luka. Luka, who has been nothing but supportive and absolutely selfless. Luka, who loved her, who didn’t deserve to be treated like this.

Marinette cried in part because this was Chat being typical Chat. But also, because she realized she would eventually need to let go of Luka, and she didn’t want to do that, no matter how wrong it was to keep him to herself. Maybe she just needed to try harder, maybe she just needed to shut down the idea of Chat as she had done before.

The problem was that ignoring him was impossible in this circumstance. Ladybug was about to lose her Cat for good.

“Mari,” Alya said softly as she rubbed her friend’s back as Marinette sprawled over her lap. They were in Marinette’s room. “I think he was just shocked. He’ll come around.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” she asked desperately. “I can’t do this without him, Alya. You-you wouldn’t understand. I can’t explain it… I just can’t do it if he’s not there.”

Alya gave her a pained smile.

Oh, this was all so rotten, Alya thought. And Marinette didn’t even know the beginning of it. Alya found herself wondering what would have happened if they had actually revealed their identities before things got complicated off and on the hero costume. It probably would have saved everyone a whole lot deal of pain.

“He will,” she reassured him. “Trust me, he will.”

Alya gave it a few days. But when the end of a week arrived and there was still no sign of Adrien, she decided she probably overestimated him. Nino was mad at him for virtually disappearing, Marinette was growing worried that something had happened to him, not to mention that his disappearance as Chat Noir was truly causing a number on her.

So, she did what she did best: take action.

She asked her teachers for Adrien’s homework worksheets and on she went Friday after school to confront what would be very possibly a mess even bigger than Marinette’s.

She sighed, rang at the gate of the Agrestes’ mansion and waited for the camera to activate.

“Yes?”

“Hello, Miss Sancoeur. I’m Alya, I’m in Adrien’s class. I’m here to give him his work for the week he missed.”

“Deposit it on the bin, please,” Natalie said, as an automated door slid open. to receive the packet of books.

“Actually, I was hoping I could see him? There’s a few things that our Social Studies teacher asked me to explain to him about a specific assignment,” she said, beaming.

“Adrien has come down with a bad case of the flu, I am sure it wouldn’t be safe for you.”

“Don’t worry ma’am. I got all my shots up to date.”

Natalie sighed and after a few minutes of deliberation, the gates opened. She met Alya at the front door and directed her to the floor where Adrien’s room was. “Down the hall, first door to the right,” she instructed. “I have to warn you. Adrien has specifically requested not to receive visitors.”

“Oh, I’m sure he’ll make an exception,” she said with determination in her eyes. “Thanks!” Alya flashed her a smile and once Natalie had returned to her office, proceeded to barge into Adrien’s room.

The blinds were all drawn, only letting in slivers of light. The air was stuffy, like no one had opened the windows in a good while. It also smelled disgustingly of spoiled cheese.

There were clothes and dishes and all kinds of things lying everywhere. Alya did not remember Adrien ever being this messy.

Both the three displays of his computer and the television were on with different shows each, mixing the occasional strands of yellow light from the windows with the morbid blue of the screens.

A lump, which she supposed was the culprit himself, lay buried in a mountain of blankets and pillows. It seemed he hadn’t noticed her–or in the very least, he didn’t care someone had entered the room.

“That’s it!” Alya announced, dropping her school bag unceremoniously as she huffed and puffed making way through the catastrophe of a room he had, to draw the curtains back and open the windows letting in fresh air and the sounds of the city. She then proceeded to turn off every screen and to yank, almost with unnecessary force, the blankets off of Adrien.

“What?” Adrien groaned.

“That’s it!” Alya said. “Get up. Get up this instant or so help me god, I’m going to toss you directly into your bathtub, clothes still on.”

“Alya?” He seemed confused. “What are you doing here?”

She proceeded to make piles of the different kinds of trash to make it easier to bag them later, and discarded plates and cups as she gagged at the smell.

“Seriously, what is that stench?”

“Camembert,” he explained, not finding it in himself to feel ashamed. “For my Kwami. He doesn’t eat anything else.”

Alya eyed him with disbelief and shook her head. “What are you doing there, just looking? Go take a shower!”

“But–”

“Go. Take. A. Shower. Adrien Agreste.”

A little afraid to continue questioning her, Adrien made his way to the bathroom and emerged a good twenty minutes later still in pajamas. Fresh ones at that, but still.

“You live like a pig,” Alya berated him as she took a seat in the couch in front of the television.

“I’m not– why are you here? Did you just come in to criticize me?” Adrien complained, joining her.

“First of all, no. I came in to make sure you were still alive, seeing as you decided to literally disappear off the face of this earth telling absolutely nobody. Nino is livid, by the way. Will love to see how you explain yourself out of that one. Oh, and there’s been Akumas, not that you’d even get the memo in this bunker, so I had to pitch in as Rena. You’re welcome.”

Adrien looked down.

“Second. I knew. I knew you were going to do this; lock yourself up here and wallow in your self-pity. And I knew somebody needed to come here to make you snap out of it,” she said, giving him a gentle slap on his head.

“Hey!”

“Am I wrong?” Alya demanded. Being met with silence, she nodded. “My point exactly.”

“Third,” she continued. “You think you have it bad? Try being Marinette for a little bit and have your oh-so-trusted partner of years now, suddenly bail on you with no explanation after realizing who she is. How could that possibly look to her, huh?”

“Marinette?” he said softly. “Is… is she alright? I didn’t mean to–”

“Shush. Don’t interrupt, I'll see that you get your chance to apologize to her, don't you worry your pretty face. Fourth. You sir,” she said poking her index finger at his chest. “Need to put on your big-boy pants and deal with your shit like the superhero you are.”

“And fifth,” she said, the fire in her eyes lightly subduing. “There’s homework,” she said pointing at her bag. “I brought it for you.”

Adrien became small in his seat as he took in Alya’s numbered series of complaints. Meanwhile, Plagg came out of hiding, knowing Alya already knew of his and Ladybug's identity.

“I like the way this one talks,” he said, munching a piece of cheese. “Finally, someone with some goddamn common sense!”

“You’re… Plagg?” Alya said.

“Have we met?” Plagg retorted. “Ah yes, Marinette’s friend on the door the other day. Of course. Either way, you have to know. I would’ve kicked him off the bed myself but well, I’m the size of a tennis ball.”

“I’m sorry, okay?” Adrien said quietly, gaining the attention of the pair. “I know… I know I keep messing things up. Which is precisely why I’m not going to be Chat Noir anymore.”

“What?” Alya said, widening her eyes.

Adrien brought his knees up to his chest and rested his chin on top of them. “I just make everything worse,” he explained. “I keep messing up. And I… I know she used to have a crush on me, as Adrien. I don’t want to get in the way of her and Luka…”

“Adrien,” Alya said softly. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but for such a smart guy, you’re pretty darn stupid sometimes.”

Adrien couldn’t help the sudden chuckle that escaped his lips.

“Why on earth do you think that would be a good idea? Have we not met the same Marinette, or, Ladybug in this case? For a reason that’s entirely beyond me, the girl crumbles if you’re not the one to help her up. It’s like… like she wouldn’t believe anything unless it comes from you. You should have seen the certified dumpster fire the last Akuma was. We were all over the place without you.”

Tears fell down his cheeks, and in that moment, Alya knew to knock down her tough-love strategy down a notch. Yes, this was Chat Noir. But it was also Adrien, and while Chat may react to confrontation, Adrien would do anything but.

She clicked her teeth. “Oh, Sunshine. Don’t cry,” she said as she pulled Adrien into a hug.

“I don’t think I can do it, Alya… I’ll make everything worse.”

“You keep saying that, Adrien. But why?”

“I–I think I know who Hawkmoth is,” he admitted in the quietest possible murmur, followed by a sob.

“What…? Adrien, look at me. What do you mean you know who Hawkmoth is?” she said, eyes wide with concentration.

“I figured it out,” he said, hiccupping as he tried to stop crying. “That’s why I went to the hide-out that day. I wasn’t ready to reveal my identity, but I had been stupid with my dad and I thought he might pull me out of school so I knew I had to tell her what I knew before my dad could lock me up or send me away. The first time she took me to the hide-out, I was browsing through some of the documents… Then I found this, this scanned page about the Peacock Miraculous from one of the grimoires and I knew I recognized it from somewhere.” He looked up with an ominous look. “My dad,” he explained. “He has this safe that I once broke into out of curiosity. And he had the missing grimoire in the set and also the brooch. I snuck in his office to investigate and they weren’t in the safe anymore. Then, I found all these documents… he’s been spending money in weird ways, making orders to companies that don’t exist… If he’s Hawkmoth and Natalie is Mayura… that’s–that’s why I had to tell Ladybug. I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if she found out who I was and thought that I was part of it all. Alya I’m so scared… I don’t know what to do.”

“Oh, Adrien,” she said softly. “And why didn’t you stick around to tell her that?”

“Because I’ve been in love with her since I met her, okay? I panicked,” he said, now a bit more exasperated. “You– I don’t think you and Nino know what it’s like, it all came so easy to you. But for me… It was so hard to get over her as Ladybug, then realizing that I was really in love with Marinette, and now–”

“Wait, you’re in love with Marinette?” Alya interrupted, jaw on the floor.

“Did Nino not tell you?”

“No! We don’t gossip about what you guys tell us!… I mean, unless it's really important, but that's besides the point! Holy shit, this is so complicated,” she said with a long sigh, plopping her back against the couch. She groaned as she processed the information. “Why are you two like this?” she exclaimed, rubbing her face in frustration. “Okay, but about your whole theory,” she said, once she recovered. “I think that doesn’t prove much, Adrien. I wouldn’t worry if I were you.”

Adrien shook his head. “I know what I saw, Alya. He had the Peacock Miraculous.”

“But that could mean anything. It could be a replica; I’ve read a lot of studies tracking the history of each jewel. People have tried replicating them to scam others.”

“It’s Natalie, Alya,” Adrien said with less patience. “Natalie is Mayura,” he said. “I just know it…” He sighed. “I don’t know how to tell Marinette. I don’t want to make things complicated for her.”

Alya thought for a moment, then snapped her fingers. “I got it. What you have right now is a lead, at best. We need to come up with a plan to prove your theories. And Marinette doesn’t need to know how you found it. I didn’t tell her that it was you at the door that day, so really, you could just tell her there’s reason to believe that Gabriel might be Hawkmoth. You tell her your sources is someone close to the Agrestes.”

“What if she asks who the specific source is?”

“We’ll get to that bridge when we cross it.”

“Half-baked plans don’t work on Ladybug,” he said, crossing his arms.

“Perhaps. But she won’t press if she knows your identity is at stake. And for what it’s worth, Adrien, I really do think you should just come clean. About your identity, I mean. It would make everything easier for both of you. I know it must be super scary but... At least promise me you’ll think about it, okay?”

-- “Well, you look like shit,” Juleka commented a bit amused as Luka joined for breakfast before school. He hadn’t been sleeping well and it showed. He simply gave Juleka a ‘I’m not in the mood to fuck around’ smile and begrudgingly served himself a bowl of cereal.

“What is it?” Juleka insisted.

“I really don’t wanna talk about it, Jules.”

“It’s Marinette, isn’t it?” she asked, sounding more like she already had an answer.

Luka sighed and said nothing.

“She’s still not answering your messages?”

Luka shook his head. “I don’t know what I did wrong.”

“Nothing, probably.”

Luka looked up at his sister, who shrugged at him. “Alya says there’s something going on with her family or something, and she’s really having a hard time with it. It’s probably only that.”

Luka appreciated the fact Juleka tried to cheer him up, but he already knew Marinette wasn’t answering because of family trouble. It had been no secret that Chat Noir had been absent in the last few Akumas. Coincidentally, Juleka had mentioned Adrien had been missing school the last few days, so he knew something must have happened between them. Maybe a fight, it was anyone’s guess. The only thing he knew is that he couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand that he couldn’t do anything about it, that Marinette wouldn’t actually tell him why she was hiding–to be honest, he also was unsure he even wanted to know. The prospect of her crying to him for a guy who has broken her heart not once, but twice now, did not appeal to him in the slightest bit.

Adrien Agreste was so stupid! He was an idiot! And yet, Luka couldn’t help but wonder if Marinette would ever cry for him like that, even if the last thing he’d ever want to do was to hurt Marinette the same way Adrien had. If she’d ever trust him as blindly as she trusted Chat Noir or love him just the same.

He sighed, trying to push the thought away. Lately, he had run out of strategies to keep his jealousy at bay and so, defeated, he simply tried to ignore his feelings as best as he could, not knowing what else to do. Giving into the feeling made him think horrible things about Adrien, which he was sure weren’t true. Confronting them brought up a proposition that made him break a cold sweat, which although extremely painful, had begun to make a case for itself. It was something he didn’t want to do, but that he suspected would be the best for both of them in the end:

Break up with Marinette.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml fanfic #miraculous ladybug fanfic #love square #adrinette #ladynoir #marichat #ladrien #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #luka couffaine #kagami tsurugi #adrigami #lukanette #ladybug #viperion #ryuuko #coccinelle writes #tikki #plag #THIS SHIT'S SPICY ANGST YALL

[popculturebuffet]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

The All Star Cast

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

ASS DAN 1981-2021

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

THE EPISODE: Part one Woo-Ooo!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Mom?!” 

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

Final Thoughts on Woo-Ooo!:

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

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

Next on the Blog: Amphibia Season 2 is back! 

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

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

[liskantope]

After a couple of months or so of soul-searching, I've decided to seek help on something that a lot of people out there in Tumblr land might be able to weigh in on. (Not just another hopelessly complaining post, I promise.)

Several times lately on this blog I've brought up this thing (closely related discussion here) about never being able to complete professional tasks in anywhere near as efficient a manner as I feel I "should" or I see professionally successful people doing. While a certain sort of slowness at certain tasks has plagued me my entire life, it's only since the start of 2020 that this has come to a head. The reason for this makes sense in the context of the timeline of my professional life. My first postdoc (which lasted a long time) had no teaching requirements and in the end I managed to get substantial research done (fast enough in "better" months to sort of make up for my inactivity in "worse" months and the entire year of 2016). When I took up my current job in fall of 2019, after an unusually productive early 2019, I fully let myself off the hook research-wise so that I could wig out the entire fall over teaching three courses at a new university while trying to settle myself in a brand new city (literally the busiest period of my adult life*). But 2020, right from the start, was a semi-disaster for me in terms of research despite a lighter teaching assignment in both fall and spring, no teaching in the summer, and forced isolation in a quiet, drama-free apartment alone with no social involvement in anything to distract me. Somehow having a job that requires substantial amounts of teaching, at a quality higher than what I held myself up to in grad school (which felt more like following orders anyway), has set me Perpetually Behind.

Where I feel my life is now is that my career hopes are hanging by a thread (a lot depends on this summer going better than last summer did), while my personal life feels almost entirely hopeless. Actually I should be happy that I and many of the people around me are getting vaccinated now (first shot down, one to go!) and can look forward to social things beginning to revert back to normal in the summer. But as long as my persistent state of Being Hopelessly Behind on research continues, I might have trouble finding time for the (unfortunately rather daunting) task of building a social life from pretty much nothing.

So I'm coming to feel that the only thing I can grab onto at the moment for hope that I can turn just about everything in my life around is to somehow deal with this executive problem. And that since my recognizing it as a chief personal issue for more than the past year still hasn't resulted in me finding a way to cure it, I suppose it's about time to take off the high-agency goggles and put on the low-agency ones. Ironically, sometimes this is necessary for getting up and actually doing something about one's problems.

For Reasons that I have trouble understanding myself and would take a much longer post than this to examine out loud, I've stubbornly refused to ever really confront the neurological issues I've had since early childhood, to the point of pretty much never even discussing them on Tumblr, home of pretty close to the most open-about-neurological-issues subculture that exists on the internet. So I don't think I've said much about being aware I have ADD (as it would have been called when I was getting examined for it in childhood) or ADHD, although I may have mentioned it in passing. I've never bothered to actually research this cluster of conditions or to ask my parents for details of my diagnosis as a kid (although the latter is partly because this diagnosis happened in the mid-90's and I've always assumed this whole area of science has been practically revamped since then). But -- and I don't know why this took me so long -- I came to the realization some weeks ago (and not until after writing the above-linked posts!) that maybe this is the crux of my current issues. This came specifically from pondering how other mathematicians I've closely worked with on research or studies don't actually seem any faster than I am when I'm focused on figuring something out over a several-minute period, but that somehow most of them magically get both research and teaching work done at a far faster pace than I do, and that I constantly space out when trying to focus on just about anything (I think often without realizing how many times I'm spacing out almost like little microsleeps). Well, that plus about a dozen other issues I've been consciously aware of for years, relating to my ability to pay attention to shows/films, listen when someone is talking to me in a monologue, etc. There is pretty much no doubt in my mind that I have some clinical level of something in the ADHD cluster (the attention deficit part, not the hyperactivity part and definitely not the impulsiveness part) as an adult.

So now I'm steeling myself to seek out a diagnosis for this and see if there's hope of some kind of treatment, and I'm finding the prospect rather daunting at the moment. But I'm telling myself to investigate this as if my career (and general prospects at happiness) depends on it, because I have a feeling maybe at this point it does.

What really daunts me the most -- once I figure out the logistics of getting a psychiatry/neurology appointment and if/how this would work with my insurance -- is researching and weighing the risks of medication. I've never taken medication for any kind of brain thing before (unlike, I imagine, a lot of Tumblr); my parents were always somewhat against it and decided against putting me on anything as a child (I don't know if it was Ritalin they were suggesting or something else?) mainly on the grounds that side effects would be scary and I seemed to be doing well in school anyway; I went through all of K-12, college, grad school, etc. without any kind of accommodations. Now my parents seem to like the idea of me trying something but they seem to assume that the options are different now 25 years later, and that surely there are better substances available without the risk of terrible side effects. Now that I'm finally bringing myself to Google this stuff, I'm finding no evidence to back up their optimism, though -- it seems that the main medical solution is still Ritalin which is still pretty heavy-duty, side-effect-heavy stuff that could permanently change my brain or maybe even my personality.

Anyway, I imagine this as more like a two-paragraph post, and I've gone on pretty long about it, I guess at this point I'm curious if anyone here has some advice they could lend from direct experience or at least better knowledge in these matters than I have, especially about the diagnosis process and even more especially about medication options. (I assume there is no widespread "cure" for life-affecting inattention issues through a therapy program or anything else other than a substance... so gaah.)

*But, case in point, I have a friend who had essentially my exact job in my department prior to my arrival, and she managed to do it alongside a completely separate second full-time job (I mean, I doubt she had to deal with things like furnishing a new home alone at the time, but still). This is what I mean about some people seeming to be capable by a whole-number factor of doing more things than others.

#personal #adhd #academia #teaching #high vs low agency goggles

[ingravinoveritas]

I watched Graham Norton Show yesterday and I'm so happy Michael and David were in the same room. Finally! My favorite part was when they showed a pic of David as Romeo. At first, I thought these gasps were only Michael's, but then I realized it could've been Graham as well. I'm sure the first 'oh' was Michael's though. I wish I could see his face at that moment.

Hi, Anon! I’m right there with you. I was very happy to see Michael and David in the same room again, especially because they seemed so happy to be in the same room again. I was also listening closely at the delightful moment you mentioned, trying to figure out if it was Michael or Graham. I could definitely parse out that one deep, melodious Welsh gasp/moan, but someone makes a sound after David says “Look at the youth,” and that’s the one I’ve wondered about, to whom it belongs.

Either way, you have to love Michael giving himself away like that, not being able to hold back such a reaction to that picture of David. (Though I’m fairly certain Michael could see a picture of David wearing a burlap sack and still think he is the loveliest thing ever.) I agree with you, though...it certainly would have been nice to see his face right then.

Another little moment that I enjoyed was Michael talking about the last time they were on the show, and David said this:

I’ve talked on this blog before about how Michael is the more demonstrative of the two of them, always making his feelings and affections and outright thirst visibly known, while David is far more subtle. Obviously David is not going to be out here moaning over a picture of Michael (at least not in public), but I was so pleasantly tickled to hear him say this. On the surface it seems like a general complaint regarding our strange new Covid-altered world overall...but to me, this wasn’t David lamenting the fact that we (as in “we” as a collective species)  can’t sit close together, but that he specifically can’t sit close to Michael. That he also gestures to Michael directly when saying it only further solidifies that theory as well. Lovely.

Also, right after this was Michael saying how frequently he’s seen David (albeit virtually) because of how much they’ve been working together, and when he said “I have stared at his face almost daily,” I couldn’t help thinking of My Fair Lady:

I've grown accustomed to his face He almost makes the day begin I've grown accustomed to the tune that He whistles night and noon His smiles, his frowns His ups, his downs Are second nature to me now Like breathing out and breathing in...

It’s almost eerie how much those lyrics seem to apply to them. I can readily imagine Michael starting his day with David--turning on his computer, a cup of morning coffee (or tea) in hand, and there David is, smiling and beautiful. The interview last night also reflected the easiness between them, and how comfortable they are with each other in every way, to where Michael even knew what David was going to say before he said it. David was talking about the blood from his injury during Romeo & Juliet and saying how the actress playing Juliet didn’t realize she looked like Carrie, and Michael said “Carrie” first, and seconds later David said “Sissy Spacek, Carrie, yeah!” (The camera angle wasn’t optimal, unfortunately, but Michael was looking at him and seemed to know that’s exactly what David was thinking.)

Anyway, those are some of my thoughts on the Graham Norton interview for you, Anon. This has been a strange and terrible year, but I’m glad we still had the chance to see the boys in person. Hopefully things will improve soon, and we’ll get to see Michael and David together many more times in 2021. Thanks for writing in! x

#anonymous #reply post #michael sheen #welsh seduction machine #david tennant #soft scottish hipster gigolo #the graham norton show #also David as Eliza Dolittle and Michael as Henry Higgins is another casting I didn't even know I needed #but now i want it #that would make a fantastic AU Ineffable Husbands fic too #anyway back on topic #i like to think Michael just says what David only thinks #so it was lovely to have that little moment from David here #santa sheen #and his fuzzy Scottish elf #love these idiots #ineffable lovers #good omens rpf #discourse

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.4]

Masterlist

The first thing Eva did when she came home was finish downloading the rest of Palaye Royale's discography. It was as though pushing the arrow on the saturation scale and suddenly her apartment with skeleton white walls and empty shadows was bursting with a new variety of rich colors. Songs that pulled back the whites in her eyes and forced open her ears to this new euphoria that was rattling through her brain and body like a pinball game.

The band's music drifted through the apartment for the rest of the night, tracks on a loop that was sure to make the tenants upstairs despise her. By the time she finished cooking dinner for herself she was lost in the cynical poetry of Warhol, entranced by the echoing of Remington's rasping screams that were never out of tune. And while she was supposed to be working on her latest article, Eva was instead watching the video for Lonely, the entire time feeling like her throat had been ripped out by a bare fist and forced to watch it beat out.

All in all, Dying in a Hot Tub took the crown for favorite. On a Saturday night, when she would usually be out with friends and drinking her problems away at the local bar, Eva was dancing through her apartment, pretending to sing along to the miserable and comprehensive words. A glass of cheap white wine sat on the counter, aiding in her inhibitions for having a rock concert in her living room. Pluto wasn't having any of it, retreating to his bed and ignoring her for most of the night.

Meanwhile, holed up in his own bedroom Remington scrolled through the Tumblr blog that Eva told him about: posts filled with poetry and proses that had him hooked as sure as he was doing drugs. Each post told a story, ranging from questions about her femininity, difficulties in growing up with an absent mother and a know-it-all dad, the first boy she had who humped and dumped her after prom. Remington wanted to read it all, falling deeper into the rabbit hole of Eva Kuznetsov.

His focus shifted from text to music when he heard a familiar sound: that sound being his own voice. The faint echo of words he was singing to crowds not months ago were suddenly swirling in the air, and when he turned to the complex, he found he had a clear view of Eva dancing away under the golden lights of her apartment. She had the screen door opened, not big enough for Pluto to squeeze through, but enough so he could hear the muffled music from his room. He knew he had pretty open access to Eva; he just didn't realize that he could see right into her space.

Which meant she could probably see into his room, too...

It was mesmerizing to watch her, spinning, jumping, her hair pirouetting around the sharp edges of her perfect jaw, all the while smiling and pretending to sing along. It was the most endearing thing Remington had seen in a long time, watching the real Eva come to life. She was uninhibited by people and impressions, dressed down in a pair of little cotton shorts and her hoodie, she was absolutely crazy and perfect.

Mischief soon got the better of Remington and he reached for his phone, eagerly selecting her number and typing. Across the way, Eva stopped dancing when the music dipped, indicating that she received a text on her phone. Brushing her winded hair out of her face, she grabbed her phone off the desk, her face going beet red when she was Remington's text:

Nice dance moves, Frances Houseman

She glanced up through the glass sliding door, mortified when she realized Remington could see her this whole time. Illuminated by the glow of the street lamp, his boyish smile seemed to shine brighter, clearly amused with this late-night entertainment. She took a deep breath and turned down the volume of the music, trying to collect herself.

How much of that did you see?

He responded not even ten seconds later:

Enough to know your hips clearly don't lie.

Shut up

And if I may ask, why are you looking through my window?

I can't help it. I'm vain enough that I get distracted by my own damn voice

Or you're just a fucking creeper

The fact that you haven't closed the curtain tells me you don't seem to mind an audience ;)

A familiar warmth spread through the pit of her stomach and Eva began to giggle uncontrollably; like a child that had been caught stealing a cookie from the jar and was so on edge she couldn't help but laugh. Stupid her for not closing the curtain.

Well I'm sorry, but the show is over now

She then went to the window to close the curtain, flipping off the smirking blonde as she shut out the rest of the world. Remington only laughed to himself, quickly texting back:

But the memories will live on in my brain

Fuck you, Leith!!

I think you should buy me a drink first, Kuznetsov

Eva just shook her head as she read his last message, downing the rest of her wine with a rose-tinted cheeks. Even with the music off, she still had Remington's soft raspy voice ringing in her head as she decided it was time to turn in. She couldn't help but start singing to herself.

"But I'm dying in a hot tub, I'm dying in a hot tub with my cat!" she lunged down and pointed both hands at Pluto. Pluto was unfazed, just staring at her with an unemotive expression. Eva's smile turned into a scowl.

"Well, fuck you too, then,"

✧✧✧

May brought the promise of vibrant flowers, bikini bodies and so many reasons for people to go out and mingle with their friends at the beaches and clubs.

Well... that was the case a year ago...

In Remington's mind, he and his friends had no need to go down to the beach and risk contracting Covid when he had a perfectly safe and clean pool and patio in his backyard. And within the last two and some weeks, he had succeeded in bringing Eva around more and more.

She got along great with everybody, which had Remington confused as to why she said she had it rough with friends. But everybody seemed to like her, and soon enough she had assimilated into their little pod. She started just with sitting outside with everyone, and when she was comfortable enough she came and hung out inside the house. Afternoons were either spent by the pool or watching TV shows and eating snacks. And the more she stayed over, the more Remington became fascinated with her.

Even Emerson and Sebastian couldn't deny that there was something about Eva that was unique; she was sparkplug of quick witticisms and lame jokes that people would laugh at just because she was so cute. She was mature way beyond her years, and yet she still had fun like a teenager trying to find themselves in high school. More than anything, the boys were curious to how close Eva and Remington were slowly becoming.

Remington liked hanging out in Eva's apartment. The environment held a different kind of vibe; like an aesthetic post you'd tag on Pinterest under a renovations gallery. But Remington was inside Eva's world, seeing the random art pieces she had hung on the walls and getting to hang with Pluto on the couch. He helped her bake when they couldn't think of anything else to do, and she always insisted he'd bring some home even when he assured her that he didn't need it. She was kind, homely, a woman with a clean soul and dirty mind who could make him laugh and didn't care when he openly belched after a soda.

Despite the pandemic, Remington was excited for his birthday. Any other time, he was at a bar or a house party with his friends, drinking until he couldn't feel his legs or ending up face-deep in a grimy toilet bowl. Even though the party wouldn't be as fun as it usually would be, Remington was looking forward to at least spend his birthday with his closest family and friends, only.

Eva wished she could have had the same optimism Remington did, but the Saturday before his birthday, she was none too pleased to find that the drain to her kitchen sink was leaking water. And apparently, it wasn't her landlord's job to come up and fix it for her.

"You want me to come take a crack at it?" Remington asked when Eva explained the situation.

Eva's phone was on speaker as she tried to navigate the utility box in the closet to turn off her water.

"Do you have experience in sink maintenance?" she asked.

"I don't," Remington admitted, "But that's what Youtube is for, right?"

Eva simpered, "As entertaining as it would be watch you destroy my sink, I respectfully decline,"

"You think too low of me, Eva," he whined.

"I just know you better than you think, Remington," she replied smartly, "I got a plumber coming by, anyway. And he can't get here 'til six for some reason so I'll be down a shower day,"

Remington's eyebrows furrowed down, "He's coming at six at night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Eva replied, seemingly clueless to the skepticism in his voice.

"What plumber makes house calls after five o'clock?" he said.

Eva stopped short, "Well, he's an independant freelancer. Makes his own hours, I guess,"

"You hired a fucking freelancer to come fix your sink?" he said incredulously.

"He's what I can afford," she replied.

"So he didn't come from an agency?"

"Nope!" Eva huffed, satisfied when she finally figured out how to turn off the water dial, "He came from Letgo,"

It was then Remington had a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't blame Eva that she didn't want to splurge her money on a plumber, but the thought of her alone with a strange man -- who mostly carried a multitude of heavy tools -- made his hair stand on end.

"Maybe I'll come by and wait with you while he does the job," he said.

"Why?" Eva asked.

"Because you're a small girl letting a strange man into your apartment after hours," he replied.

Eva turned to her window, still having a firm view of Remington's empty, but messy bedroom, "You were a strange guy I let into my apartment," she countered.

"And now you have concrete proof that I'm not a creep, I'm just a little weirdo," he replied, "I'd just feel better being there with you, is all,"

Eva shrugged, understanding where he was coming from yet assuring herself that he was overthinking it, "I mean, if you wanna'... sure,"

"Great!" Remington grinned, "I'll be by before six,"

The early afternoon soon delved into the night, and just as he promised, Remington was at Eva's apartment ten minutes before six.

And the plumber was late.

Eva attributed it to traffic when the clock hit ten after, but then she was annoyed by twenty after. What was he possibly doing that he was twenty minutes late for a pay grab? Remington didn't say anything, though the knot in his stomach got tighter as the minutes ticked by. And when Eva assured him that he didn't need to stay, he simply shook his head and declined.

"The only way you're getting me out of this apartment is with a fucking pitchfork," he told her, smirking with pride. Eva only rolled her eyes.

It was finally quarter to seven when a battered, unlabelled black pickup truck pulled up in front of the complex. And just as Remington feared, a rather large man came falling out of the truck and started trudging his way inside. He carried no tools with him.

Both Remington and Eva had their masks on and the windows open as the plumber came inside. He was portly, older, and he wore the mask just under his nose; a particular pet peeve of Eva's. He was polite as he greeted the kids, narrowing his eyes at Remington. The whole time he was there, Remington made sure to keep Eva close to him.

"So, what seems to be the trouble?" the plumber asked, coming over to the sink but looking around slowly at the knick knacks and furniture within the apartment.

"Well, I'm not sure. It just started leaking all of the sudden," Eva shrugged.

The plumber glanced at the faucet, then took a look under the counter to the pipes. Eva began to understand why Remington was so eager to come over, now. He stayed well on his knees for longer than needed, not pulling out a flashlight to see in the dark shadows. Even Pluto seemed to sense something was off about this character, he leapt onto the top of the couch where he had a full vantage point of the typical case of plumber's crack.

The plumber finally sat back from his inspection, turning to the two kids, "I see what the problem is. I gotta' get my other tools from my truck, though," he said.

Eva and Remington glanced at each other with uncertainty, "... Okay," she drawled, "We'll, um -- we'll be here, I guess,"

"Okay," he forced himself back on his feet and exited out the door.

Not two seconds later, Remington heard the faint carry of voices in the hallways; a couple by the sounds of it. He took a look into the hall, indeed finding a pair of Eva's neighbours unlocking their door as the door to the stairwell slammed closed.

A few minutes passed, but Eva was confused when she heard the revving of an engine outside. She went to go look out her window, and sure enough, the black pickup truck was speeding away. Needless to say, she was shocked.

"What the fuck!?" she exclaimed, "He left!"

Remington came to look as well, not surprised but his fears quelled as he watched the truck disappear around the corner.

"Good," he said, "Truth be told, I'm pretty sure he wasn't here to fix the sink,"

Eva pulled her face mask off, "What, you think he wanted to rob me?" she asked.

"Or something a little more vile," Remington nodded, simultaneously pulling off his own mask, "He clearly didn't like the fact that I was here,"

Eva's face paled for a moment, now grateful she had let Remington in when he asked. How did he know, though?

"How did you know he wasn't legit?" she asked.

Remington scrunched his nose, "Well, first of all he's coming by at six -- well, seven o'clock on a weekend. Second of all, you found him on Letgo,"

Eva shrugged, "I don't trust Craigslist,"

"Because Letgo is any more reliable?" he raised his eyebrows with a petty grin, "This is the part where you say 'thank you for looking out for me, Remington',"

Eva narrowed her eyes at him, "Thanks for coming by, ya' smug shit," she glanced out the window again, "You think he's going to come back?"

"Not now that he thinks I'm here, too," Remington replied, "Like I'd leave my girlfriend alone with a strange guy at seven at night. In a fucking pandemic, too," he scoffed.

Eva looked at him quizzically, "... I'm not your girlfriend," she drawled.

"But he doesn't have to know that," he grinned back.

Eva had to admit, she was impressed. And moreover, quite grateful for Remington's persistence -- though she wouldn't tell him that.

"Aw, I have such a smart boyfriend!" she gushed sarcastically, clasping her hands together before going to fetch her Lysol spray.

Remington simply sat back down on the couch, feeling pretty damn good about himself now, "Anything for my baby!" he exclaimed happily.

"Shut up,"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band blog #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

[tipsydipsydo]

Request: "Can I get an imagine with dom male reader x taekook, where the reader had a bad day and the boys cheer him up with fluff or some smut, thank you!"

Requested by: anonymous

Pairing: Sub! Taekook x Dom! Reader

Gender of the Reader: male

Word Count: 2k

Genre: Fluff (Idk? xD) and some Mentions of Smut at the End

Warnings: not really buuut the reader has a bad day and some anger outbursts; Swearing; a bit smutty content at the end; soft Dom-/Sub-Themes; sub! Taekook; Dirty Language; Dirty Talk

A/N: first Reader x Member Pairing request uhhhh~ 🥳

...and to the dear anon who requested this, I hope you'll be able to find this here! 😅💜

Links:

My Masterlist for your requests!

My official Blog Navigation 

「© tipsydipsydo」

This following story is my intellectual property and belongs only to my blog tipsydipsydo.tumblr.com!

I’ll not accept any kind of reposting, stealing or using/editing my work!

That includes reposting my content on other social media platforms too, even when you link me as the original author.

Thank you.

Taehyung sighs and looks on the display of his smartphone for the sixth time in the last five minutes. Still no message from you, even though it's already 11:28 a.m. and the meeting should have started at 9:00 a.m.

Actually, this one today should only be clarifying the last questions and then the final contract should be signed, right? And that can't last more than two and a half hours when you had the deal with the potential investor already at the last meeting (more or less).

The company you work wanted to expand and enter a new part of industry, so they were looking for a possible investor. And your boss chose you to take over and lead the subsequent negotiations with the agency of the Investment Group!

This is an extraordinary compliment for you that your boss recognizes and appreciates your skills. He also said that, depending on how well you present the company to investors and able to manage and coordinate the whole process, you also have chances of being transferred to a higher position!

So you did everything, really everything, to convince the investors and to arrange the deal. You don't want that you've sat in the office late into the night and worked countless overtime hours for nothing, especially when there is a possibility of getting into a more attractive position and thus also better payment.

It looks like your efforts are paying off. Already at the first meeting, where you presented the company and the idea for the expansion, the investors were very interested and said at the end of the meeting that they would be very happy about a subsequent meeting.

In the weeks that followed, further meetings took place and hypothetical, but nevertheless very concrete planning approaches started then. The last meetings felt like the deal was already finalized and they're already discussing how the plan was actually implemented.

The boys were be happy for you and every time you had another successful meeting-day behind you, it proved, that the night shifts in the office seems to pay off.

They confirmed to you that the deal is almost completed and all you need now is just the investors' signatures on the formalities.

Well, that's what you want to get today.

Despite all the optimism, Jungkook and Tae are getting more and more worried about it because you still haven't told them about the good news (they can't be any other way)!

After all, signing contracts doesn't take three hours?? Then finally, at 11:47 a.m. comes the redeeming "Ping!" simultaneously from your two boyfriends smartphones.

Kookie and Tae make a competition out of 'who can unlock his phone faster and with it, congratulate you for the successful deal'. Kookie is the first one who enters your shared group chat. But his smile disappears as he reads your short message. It may be short, but Jungkook has to read it several times to really understand the meaning behind it.

You [11:47 a.m.]: The deal is off.

"W-What ... What the-", comes over Jungkook's lips. In this moment, Tae is faster than Jungkook and he’s the one who respond to your message first.

Tae♡ [11:48 a.m.]: What?? Why?! How they could choose against the deal?! I mean, you said the deal is as good as made and they were insterested right at the beginning?

You [11:49 a.m.]: Fuck, I don't know it?! They just said, "there are some logistical problems and expectation differences betweem their comany and ours" and "that we couldn't solve them together even after new discussions and compromises". That's why they said the deal is off and simply dropped us. I can't believe it, everything went so good until now, WHY the fuck they decided against us?!?!

You [11:49 a.m.]: They said there would be some 'expectional disagreements' ...did they mean that the financials? That the certain sum of money they've to invest into our new project is too high? But then there are always possibilities for discussions and new compromises?! God, that fucks me so up! I want to know what their goddamn problem is!

You're sitting in the company's cafeteria and are trying to calm yourself down before the lunch break will ends. So that you can return to your work desk with a more or less cleared mind and somehow are able to survive the afternoon.

You thought, after the incompleted deal and your chance to get promoted was wasted, your day couldn't actually get any worse.

Well yeah, it's possible.

You know that when David turns around the corner and looks at you with a big spiteful smirk, apparently he has already heard about the news. This asshole is not even trying to hide his satisfaction about your dropped deal.

Of course, like every damn time you have to meet him in the building, he has to leave his very personal comment on it. You don't know why you were punished for having to work with him in the fucking same department?!

"Hm? I heard that the meeting didn't went so well, after all the investors jumped off. But it was already foreseeable that it won't work anyway. I don't understand why Mr. O'Brien chose you of all people for the Management of the investment-coordination for this project.", just when you hear these first words, the anger in you starts to grow in lightning speed.

"I mean, let's be honest and that's what I'm gonna say is not meant to be rude, I just want to give you a little helpful tip. I assume that everyone in our Department will agree with the fact that you still have to work on your presence. If you want to get an investor interested in a project so that they're willing to provide financial resources, then you have to sell the deal with ambition, self-assurance and self-confidence. Investors need to know what your concrete plan is, that you're standing 100% behind that project and that it'll be profitable for everyone!"

"I think you lack a little bit of dominance and assertiveness, you should work on that urgently. Yeah, you can be submissive in your own bedroom when it's that what you like, but in the tough economic world you have to be able to assert yourself. That's just a tip from me. Despite the disaster, have still a nice day~", he said in a mocking tone, patting you on the shoulder and then going whistling to the food display of the cafeteria.

You need a moment to realize what exactly this bastard shamelessly said into your face. He doesn't know that you're the Dom in the relationship, he just wanted to put a little more salt in the open wound of your injured pride. And that hit a dangerously sore point. How dare this bastard to say that you're the submissive part in the bedroom?!

You're about to go after him and become verbally abusive, you won't let yourself be offered such a talking shit! But you know it better, you would only make things worse if you stand out negatively now through emotionality. You already know that this action would only confirm David in his opinion about you. When you behave unprofessionally now, everyone could think that you are unable to deal with defeats. So you try to swallow your anger and frustration as best you can down and just ignore David for the rest of the day. Even when you really want to punch him into the face.

However, to give the anger at least some space, you complain frustrated to your two darlings about everything. They listen to you patiently and rebuild the image about yourself again. But also plead to you, to please don't do any crap mindlessly, led by emotions.

You're really glad when you can finally finish work and end this catastrophic day.

When you open the door, the pleasant warmth of the apartment welcomes you and a delicious, all too familiar smell rises in your nose.

These two things alone make you feel as if something heavy has been removed from your shoulders. You take a deep breath and really feel how you return to your inner peace.

You are at home, nobody can strain your nerves anymore, only your two beloved boyfriends are waiting for you.

It seems like they've prepared something for you, so that at least the evening of today will be better than everything else before. Jungkook is at the stove and is cooking your favorite dish. You wrap your arms from behind around him and give him a gentle kiss in the crook of your neck, letting his scent soothe you. When you also feel the warmth of Taehyung on your back, everything is suddenly not as bad as you first thought.

The boys bought your favorite wine for your favorite dish, which makes the dinner perfect. It looks like Taehyung is about to get up to get the dessert or so, when he stops and looks at you with a nervous but excited smile. On Jungkook's cheeks, you can see a hint of a blush too. You raise an eyebrow questioningly.

"W-Well... when you texed us that you don't know if you can control yourself around David, to not punching him right into the face... Jungkook and I thought there are other and much better ways to reduce stress and anger... We... well... before you came home, Kookie and I p-prepared each other for you... and right now... we're both wearing your favorite plugs. We thought you'd rather pounding your anger and frustration in us than having problems at work. So... please use us as your stress reliever.", said Taehyung, biting his lower lip, looking at me in a kinda... begging manner? Hmm, seems like there is someone who wants to be fucked hard and rough~

"S-Sir, please dominate me. Own me. Make me to your whining and begging sub...", Jungkook whispers with dark red cheeks. You see the lust and excitement in his dark, dilated pupils, to get used and to take your anger and frustration without any complain.

God, your boys are just perfect. They know exactly how to behave in order to make their master proud.

"It's really the case that you want to be used ad my stress reliever, completely selflessly? Even when I think that this 'reason' just came up to you perfectly, so that you didn't have to beg to get fucked hard and without any mercy again. Hmm, am I right?"

The way Taehyung and Jungkook are blushing and stuttering furiously confirms your guess.

"Such needy horny Boys I have here. Tz tz tz... Come, let's see what I should do to my Babies when they're so greedy for my cock and a rough fuck...", you chuckle devilishly when you go with them to your shared bedroom.

The next day.

You [09:12]: Hey Darlings~ I have really great news! I got my promotion despite of the unfinished deal! My boss was very pleased with the huge amout of work I put in this project and he assured me, that it wasn't because of my negotiation strategy that the investors dropped the deal. There seem to be some internal problems in the Investment Group at the moment, which is why they can no longer support projects at the moment. And guess what I've been promoted to... I've become department head and that means I'm now David's boss! I think now we both can discuss who has to work on his assertiveness ... 😏😈

You [09:15 a.m.]: And I hope you're okay and your precious asses are not too sore~ ​​love you ❤

#requested #request for tipsy #bts smut #anonymous request #bts fluff #taekook #taekook fluff #bts x male reader #taekook x reader #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #kpop x male reader #bts poly fic #bts polyamory #poly! bts x reader #bts jungkook x reader #taekook x male reader fluff #kpop smut #kpop requests #taehyung x male reader #jungkook x male reader

[motivatedtale-blog]

About Motivatedtale

.:Contents:.

.:Author’s Note:.

.:Summary/Idea:.

.:Characters:.

Motive

Unmotivated

.:Stray Facts and Resources:.

FAQ

Rules

.:Inspiration:.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.:Author’s Note:.

   Hey, so I've noticed this a long time ago but I’m just now confronting it since I got my computer fixed- it seems pretty impossible to reach the “About Motivatedtale” on mobile, even with the literal LINK to the page (I could only sort of access it through some loopholes in a browser- and the link just took me to my Tumblr instead), so I wanted to compile the information that’s in there into a post for any mobile users who may follow this blog. I’ve got more followers here than my art blog-- so even if there’s not much interaction each post, I think there’s at least a few people who might not have access to an about page here. Changes are very likely to be made and things will be added occasionally :)

.:Summary/Idea:.

 “Have you ever wondered what happens to creations when a creator gives up?”

 Motivatedtale is essentially an abandoned AU with no finished story or a plot. Which, ironically, not having a story is the story itself. It’s a tale about how the lack of motivation (along with other things like self doubt and lack of interest) in a Creator leaves a story unfinished, and with no reason to exist, no story, the AU is crumbling into nothingness, as it is being forgotten by the only one who knows about its existence- the Creator. However, there’s two characters in it that have to deal with that burden of having no ending or reasons to exist. And they’re completely aware of what’s going on.

 At least, the first one that was created is aware, because they were made to be that way. They inform the only other character (Frisk/Motive) about all of this when they meet. They’re a Sans of course (which is sort of a self aware joke because a lot of people either start with the Sans of an AU when creating characters, subtly revolve around a Sans of an AU in a story, or the entire story literally and shamelessly revolves around a Sans. This is not an attack on anyone). This Sans goes by Unmotivated, and is quite bitter about existing.  These characters have no finished story, no destiny, and no purpose. Being self aware of this can be a great burden on hope and happiness; ignorance is bliss, after all.

 What the AU would’ve been if it was “completed” is unsure.

 How the story ends is not fully decided or meant to be disclosed (for now), but even if this AU is finished or not, it is already technically complete. It symbolizes a project that is given up on; a project that is abandoned, and what would happen if the characters in these types of projects were conscious about this- if our ideas existed somewhere out there, somewhere where our decisions, intentional and unintentional, have a serious affect.

 So, if this AU is abandoned, it’ll be quite ironic.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.:Characters:.

Motive

    Motive is the Frisk of this AU, and one of only two characters that are in this AU. Motive was created after Unmotivated, but the coloring of their design was given up on towards the very end. Their sweater is unfinished because the creator gave up on them due to being overwhelmed with empty and destructive thoughts, but the outline/shape is still there. The sleeve usually is never shaded/effected by light.

  Motive is an optimist, and believes that their AU will one day be finished. They have the soul of motivation, which is outwardly visible and tied to the loose hanging strap of their overalls. They don’t have preferences in pronouns (though they/them is usually the default), and calling them by any pronoun is fine (she/he/they/it..it really doesn’t matter, honestly).  

  Motive acts impulsively a lot of times and does not think of the consequences of their actions…or, they do, but they choose to move forward with their actions anyways. Since optimism is one of their key traits and it’s exaggerated and simplified in their character and logic, it can result in some bad outcomes. The same goes for their impulsitivity. They’re not that serious natured, and act more like a child than a young adult (despite being 18). However, they do make a lot of (sometimes unnerving) jokes that could be considered uncomfortable, but they mean no harm. While Motive is quite intelligent and empathetic, they’re distracted quite easily and might say or do inappropriate things during certain situations.

  Since Motive is technically a new character and was not fully developed by their Creator (backstory, powers, etc), their underdevelopment as a character is actually a big part of their development as a character. 

(More is to be added later)

Unmotivated

 The Sans of the AU, and the first ever character created (which again is poking fun of the idea that people usually start with the Sans of the AU for characters). Unmotivated is bitter and cynical towards his existence and his Creator, and is completely aware of the multiverse and AU Creators. A big fourth wall breaker. He’s apathetic, bored and often paints himself as emotionless and uncaring to hide any hurt/feelings of helplessness. He bottled them away a long time ago.  At first, Unmotivated was hopeful about his AU, but he was alone for an unspecified but long amount of time in his AU, and was driven to toxicity and bitterness during that time. He’s seen his universe grow, halt, and then slowly deteriorate- he has seen new ideas come and go, and is helpless to stop the rampant decay of his universe- his home- his story. He’s overall a pretty lonely character. 

When or why he got the nickname “Unmotivated” is unclear- but it’s definitely supposed to be a pun. He hates the name but finds it funny and ironic at the same time. 

  Unmotivated’s soul is held by a string that is woven into his rain coat. He considers this to be poor design choice but doesn’t really do anything to fix it. He often keeps his soul in his pocket for safe keeping.  (More is to be added later)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.:Stray Facts:.

• The AU resets (sort of like an update) each time a new idea is added. This is how Unmotivated is generally aware of Motive when they’re created. • The “Creator” resembles anyone who has abandoned or given up on their projects or ideas. This isn’t meant to put people that do this in a negative light.

•The white of Motive’s sleeve isn’t meant to be shaded since it’s “incomplete.”

FAQ (most are from amino since not many people ask here)

- What was the AU supposed to originally be before it was abandoned?

 This is undecided and left up for interpretation. However, based off of the design of the current characters, it can be safely assumed that the AU was supposed to be more lighthearted and cutesy. There are random bits and ideas spread throughout the AU that give glimpses to what it could’ve been.

- Can I draw fanart of these characters?

 Of course! I’d be honored to receive fanart and would love to see it! Just please keep things appropriate if you do.

- Is Ink Sans or Core Frisk going to be in the comic?

No.

 I’ve gotten asked this several times, and the answer is no. Doing this would completely ruin the theme and point I’m trying to get across with this comic. This story revolves around a Creator and their Creations, and there will be no other characters made by other people.

- Are Motive and Unmotivated shipped together?

NO.

 It’s fine as a joke but please realize they aren’t. This isn’t an AU centered around romance and would distract from the goal of the comic if I had that. While I’m not anti-frans in any sense, I still don’t want it in my comic.

- How often do you plan on updating the comic?

  Each page is published whenever I finish it nowadays due to stress of a schedule. I post them in bulks of 2-3 on amino and twitter, and whenever I finish the page on deviantart, instagram and here.

- Is the Creator a character?

 Yes, and no. The Creator represents not only myself, but any artist that has struggles putting their creations out there due to insecurities or other causes. They’re more symbolic and fluent rather than a structured and identified character. Of course though, if there is any introduction of the Creator, I would have to give them some sort of design- and I do have general ideas of what they’d look like. However, they’re still supposed to represent a broader group of people than just myself.

- What does Unmotivated think about other AUs/Sanses?

 Unmotivated has an apathetic mindset when it comes to AUs and other characters like him. He’s incredibly self aware and sees a much bigger picture. He knows characters are just pawns to their creator, and won’t get fazed by any story. Sort of like watching actors in a movie while constantly reminding yourself that they’re just actors. However, he is quite envious of anyone with a complete and happy storyline, since that’s something he lacks but yearns the most. That’s something he wish he had.

 Keep in mind Unmotivated and Motive cannot interact or travel outside of their AU, and no one can interact with their AU except the editor/creator.

Rules

• Please do not publicly RP with these characters unless given permission. This might be changed after more of the comic is complete, but I do not want these character’s personalities to be strewn.

•  Please do not draw or write NSFW with my characters– I am a minor, and a large part of my audience are also minors.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

.:Inspiration:.

  Alright, this part is going to be a lot less formal and more personal. The idea for this AU came from my own self doubt and self destructive attitude as a creator. Doubting my own works and ideas has seriously held me back for a long time, and it STILL holds me back as I’m sure it has for many, MANY other creators like me. Musicians, artists, writers.. Almost all of us have that fear of trying out a new idea or making something you usually wouldn’t. Almost all of us have felt that crushing self doubt when you see someone better than you, and you tell yourself you’ll never be like them, your art will never be that great, you’ll never get that far…so on, so on.

  So, while I was trying to come up with an idea for an AU (which I had actually been considering for well over a year), the thoughts crept in.

“no one will like this”

“there’s enough AU’s”

“you’re unoriginal”

“this is a waste of time”

“the fandom is dying”

“you have horrible character designs”

“AU’s are overrated”

“this doesn’t fit your audience”

“people will judge you”

“you never finish anything”

“this is stupid”

“your art isn’t good enough”

“you’re not good enough”

“someone probably already came up with this idea”

“no one cares about your idea”

“no one would bother with your art”

  And ironically, all these thoughts gave me this idea.

  Even so, these thoughts have still been nagging me every time I even try to work on this, and it’s been taking a lot of courage to take on the heap of anxiety I have over something so harmless. I didn’t join the Undertale fandom for over a year simply because I was afraid of being judged for my interests,, fun fact. Never thought I’d be able to make an AU. I’m still quite nervous posting art of anything that isn’t Mario related for some reason.

  Putting all this to side though, I find the concept of what happens to unfinished and/or abandoned stories and projects interesting, especially if there’s an alternate reality that’s actually effected by your decisions. Kinda like you’re a god. I mean, imagine what it would be like if you had a creator and they just gave up on you, and you’re left with no purpose. Seems like it would suck, haha.

  So that’s basically my AU, Motivatedtale. If you have any thoughts or questions, I’d love to hear them. Thanks for reading if you did!

#Motivatedtale #undertale au #comic #about page #alternate universe #information #motivatedtale comic #au #au comic #au sans #au frisk #motive #unmotivated

[pengychan]

[Coco] Nuestra Iglesia, Pt. 18

Title: Nuestra Iglesia Summary: Fake Priest AU. In the midst of the Mexican Revolution, Santa Cecilia is still a relatively safe place; all a young orphan named Miguel has to worry about is how to get novices Héctor and Imelda to switch their religious vows for wedding vows before it’s too late. He’s not having much success until he finds an unlikely ally in their new parish priest, who just arrived from out of town. Fine, so Padre Ernesto is a really odd priest. He’s probably not even a real priest, and the army-issued pistol he carries is more than slightly worrying. But he agrees that Héctor and Imelda would be wasted on religious life, and Miguel will take all the help he can get. It’s either the best idea he’s ever had, or the worst. Characters: Miguel Rivera, Ernesto de la Cruz, Héctor Rivera, Imelda Rivera, Chicharrón, Óscar and Felipe Rivera, OCs. Imector. Rating: T

[All chapters up are tagged as ‘fake priest au’ on my blog.]

A/N: Threatening Ernesto is, canonically, a very bad idea. [Art by @swanpit​ and @lunaescribe​!]

***

The funeral of Jesús Ibarra was a brief ceremony, with few people attending, but solemn nonetheless. Of course, Ernesto thought, good old Juan wouldn’t have gone about it any other way: whoever that man had been, whatever he may have done in life, he would ensure he got a proper ceremony and a decent burial. Which was precisely what the note had asked for. 

A coffin had been quickly put together, with Chicharrón complaining about having to dig a grave on such a short notice even though he spent most of the afternoon chewing tobacco and drinking, making it perfectly obvious that either a grave was magically digging itself or someone else had been roped in to do it for him.

And honestly, the way Héctor discreetly tried to rub his aching back throughout the ceremony left very little doubt over who that unfortunate soul had been. It would have made Ernesto smile, if not for the fact his mind was a little too preoccupied with the fact Federales were so damn close to Santa Cecilia. It wasn’t good at all, and the thought had kept him up at night.

… Well. It would have kept him up at night if he’d spent it on his own, but he’d just so happened to pay Juan a visit and tire himself out enough to fall asleep, and if he’d dreamed at all he couldn’t recall any of it. No nightmares to jolt him awake. 

Those rarely happened with a warm body in the same bed. 

“Amen,” Juan spoke up suddenly, closing the Bible, and Ernesto was snapped from his thoughts, muttering ‘amen’ along with everyone else. As the nuns turned to leave the chapel, he stepped forward to help Héctor, Chicharrón and Gustavo carry the coffin to the cemetery. 

That was… not an easy task, because the gravedigger was about as tall as a barrel and the sexton was still a good deal shorter than both Ernesto and Héctor, but they somehow made it to the grave without incidents - good news, because Juan would probably have a heart attack if they accidentally spilled the body out. The coffin was lowered in the hole, and both him and Gustavo were quick to leave before Chicharrón could get them to do his work and fill the grave. Héctor wasn’t as fast as them but really, at that point he only had himself to blame. At least he had been able to dodge any more extra work for the da--

“Padre Ernesto! Padre, have you seen Miguel? I can’t find him anywhere!”

As he turned to face Madre Gregoria - who looked both concerned and absolutely furious - Ernesto held back a groan. Maybe he had not, after all, dodged any more extra work for the day. “I don’t think you need to worry, Madre. Miguel wanders around the the tim--”

“But a man has just been murdered, Padre!” Madre Gregoria insisted. “This is no time for a boy to be wandering on his own!”

Ah. Ah, right - they hadn’t made the real circumstances surrounding the stranger’s death widely known, because the last thing they needed in case Federales did get there was having them know they had granted a blessing and a funeral to a rebel; in those times, it may be enough to be branded traitors and become targets themselves. Yes, the Church had a duty to all of the fallen, but Ernesto had already seen how little that mattered when the fallen belonged to the wrong side. He’d seen it in the eyes of a dying priest beneath the hanging bodies of the men he’d only tried to grant the last rites to.

“... Padre?” Madre Gregoria called out, a little puzzled, and Ernesto recoiled, realizing only then that he’d been scowling at thin air. He cleared his throat. 

“Keep this to yourself, but we have reason to believe the man we buried died in a skirmish some distance from here, and was brought here so he could have a proper Christian funeral,” he said.

Madre Gregoria blinked, taken aback but relieved. “So there isn’t a murderer in our midst?”

Me. There’s me.

“You know they’re going to get you in the end, don’t you?” Alberto’s corpse had told him.

“It could get me killed, Miguel,” he’d said. “You must never say it aloud again, do you understand? Don’t make me-- remind you again.”

Don’t make me kill you, is what you meant. Someone almost killed that boy and it was you.

“No,” Ernesto said, forcing a smile on his face. “We don’t believe there is such danger in Santa Cecilia. I will look for Miguel - do not alarm the others. I am sure I’ll find him.”

I didn’t kill him, didn’t have to. They won’t give me away. I’m safe as I can be. No one has to go.

No one needs to die.

***

A funeral was… not the best way to start the month, if John had to be absolutely honest. 

Of course they were rarely a pleasant affair, but there was something especially sad in burying a young man of whom they knew a name and nothing else - whose family, if he had one, may not even know of his passing, and may never know where he was buried. It saddened him at a deep, visceral level. It might be him one day, he knew. If he failed to redeem himself in a way that made him deserving to return home, to have his family back, he may one day be buried someplace where he knew no one, with no one to mourn on his grave. 

The thought had been in the back of his mind since the moment the body had been found, but he’d done his best to ignore it. He was still doing his best to ignore it, really, focused on developing some of the photographs he had taken at the hillside the previous morning.

They had turned out well, and he was especially pleased with the photos of the parish’s bell tower with the rising sun just beyond. He rather wanted to develop the photos he had taken with the Brownie, too - Father Ernest’s photo, a voice whispered in the back of his mind, that’s the one you want - but there was some film left to, so it would have to wait. He’d finish the film some other day, he decided, and then develop the photos.

He never would.

***

“A peso for your thoughts, niño.”

Ernesto’s voice rang out suddenly behind him, causing Miguel to recoil and nearly fall forward into the stream. As he looked up towards him, he noticed that it was getting dark - he’d been there a while. Ah, he was probably late for dinner, which meant he’d go to bed with an empty stomach after a good telling-off. 

He groaned. “Did the sisters send you to find me?”

“Madre Gregoria did.” 

Just as he’d feared. Miguel sighed, maybe just a little dramatically, but it was warranted. He would be grounded until the end of June now. “How mad is she on a scale from one to ten?”

“I’d give it a good eight, but I think I can smooth things out down to maybe four if we tell her you were still upset over finding a dead body. I offered to look for you before she started a search.” Ernesto sat next to him on the bank. “All right, what is it?”

“Nothing. I’m fine,” Miguel replied, looking back down at the water. 

“You’re a terrible liar,” Ernesto informed him with a chuckle, then paused. When he spoke again, he sounded more concerned. “What’s wrong? Is it about the dead hombre?”

Ah, that. Miguel shrugged, feeling a smidge guilty for not being really that upset about it. 

Finding the body hadn’t been fun, and he felt bad for the man, but that was it. He didn’t know him, hadn’t even seen his face. “It’s… not that. It’s just-- well--” 

They’re going to marry and have their own kids and I… I wouldn’t fit. I wouldn’t fit anywhere.

“... They don’t need me anymore,” Miguel forced out, his attempt at keeping his voice even failing miserably. He dared glance up, and saw Ernesto’s confusion giving way to a knowing look. Of course he’d know what he meant: Miguel had slipped up before, and he’d picked it up. 

“You’re hoping they’ll get you out of the orphanage, huh?”

But it wasn’t going to happen. It had never really been on the table, and why would it? Miguel looked away, his vision suddenly blurry. He blinked, and something wet ran down his cheeks.

"... I mean, it was stupid, really," he said, trying to keep his voice firm while wiping his face with a sleeve. "I know Héctor and Imelda are not going to adopt me. They're going to have their own kids, and they're not that much older than me anyway. And in a few years I'll be old enough to leave the orphanage, so--"

"Well then, why don't you leave with me once the war is over with?"

"Huh?" Miguel blinked, taken aback, and looked up at Ernesto without even thinking that his eyes were still wet and his nose all red. "Leave?"

Ernesto grinned, and dropped a heavy hand on his shoulder. "Well, of course. I'm not going to stay here forever, muchacho. I'm a musician, remember? Once this war is over with, I'll drop the priest act and leave to pick up right where I left off when they dragged me into the army."

"... But what if Huerta wins?" 

Ernesto made a face. "Thanks for the optimism. In that case, I'll only need to change my name to... I don't know, Pedro. Or Jorge. I'm partial to Marco Antonio. Whatever the name, I'll go out there and become the greatest musician of all Mexico. Just you wait," he added. He seemed so sure of it, Miguel found it easy to believe it possible; he made anything sound possible..

"And you want me to come with you?" he asked, something in his chest warming up. "Really?"

"With a talent like yours, why not?" Ernesto laughed, ruffling his hair. "Will add a cute factor to the performances, too. Draws more of a crowd. And it will be fun, no? The world will be our family. Two musicians wandering Mexico, looking for fame an- oye, careful!" he laughed, rearing back a little when Miguel threw his arms around him. “No need to get us both in the stream.”

Migued looked up, his smile so wide his cheeks ached. “Can we go to Mexico City? I always wanted to see Mexico City!”

“Sure! All the biggest cities. That’s where crowds are, no?” Ernesto ruffled his hair, and Miguel was too ecstatic at the idea to even remember how upset he’d been only minutes earlier. Leaving Santa Cecilia, travelling, seeing more of the country - more of the world - was that not what he’d been daydreaming about the day Ernesto had arrived? Maybe it was meant to happen, Miguel reasoned, that Ernesto would come there of all places he could have chosen to hide. He would take him out of there, and who better than him? Miguel’s only real skill was that he could play and sing - he could make a living out of that, and Ernesto could teach him how. 

Héctor had taught him a lot, but now… now he was going to have a family of his own. He wouldn’t have any more time. It hurt to think, it really did, but Ernesto’s words were echoing in his mind, dripping with promise, and he was drawn to them like a moth to the flame, the hurt fading the more he mulled over it.

The world will be our family.

***

“So, wait, run this by me again. You thought Imelda was leaving the messages.”

“Yes.”

“And you thought Héctor was leaving them. You each thought the other was our contact. ”

“Exactly.”

“You’re both idiots.”

Sofía’s assessment was harsh, if probably somewhat fair, so Héctor decided not to argue against it. Imelda, on the other hand, did argue against it. 

“I received a letter telling me to meet in the basement, and he was there,” she muttered. “What else was I supposed to think? You’d have come to the same conclusion.”

“And I had received the same letter,” Héctor immediately added, suddenly feeling an obligation to support Imelda in declaring that they were not, in fact, two idiots. “And I found her in there, so-- huh. Why are you laughing?”

Sofía didn’t answer right away, too busy snickering for a good minute. “Hahahaha! So that was-- oh my God, that is how it happened? And here I thought it had been a failure - this is hilarious!”

Imelda raised an eyebrow. “Is there something you know that we don’t?” she asked, in the tone of someone who demands an answer. Sofía grinned at her, wiping a tear of mirth from her eye.

“Hah! Those messages were not from our contact, whoever it is. It was Miguel to write them.”

Imelda blinked. Héctor’s jaw almost fell.

“He-- what?” 

“Well, that, or Ernesto wrote them. But Miguel was definitely involved.”

As Héctor kept staring with his mouth hanging open, Imelda seemed to recover from her surprise and glared. She suddenly looked more than ready to dish out physical violence, or the scolding of the century. Most likely both: physical violence upon Ernesto, scolding of the century for Miguel. “Why in the world would either of them--”

“To make you meet in a secluded dark place, why else?” Sofía cut her off, rolling her eyes. “Not that Miguel had that in mind, of course. He probably had a more romantic vision of it than either me or Ernesto did of how that little nightly meeting might go, but--”

“Absolutely nothing happened,” Imelda snapped. As in, a lot had happened, but not… that. 

And thank God for that, Héctor thought, because it would have made things a touch awkward when José and his men showed up.

Unaware of his thoughts, Sofía sighed and waved her hand. “I know, I know. Saving yourself for the marriage bed. By the way, if either of you needs any advice--”

“What-- we do not!” Héctor protested, face heating up.

“Oh? Prior experience?” Sofía asked, raising an eyebrow at Héctor - who, in fact, did not have prior experience and found himself fervently wishing the ground would open up to swallow him. 

“Enough!” Imelda’s voice was almost a snarl, her face suddenly very, very red. “This is not about our-- our marriage bed. We’re not married yet, and this is extremely inappro-- what?” she paused when her gaze fell on Héctor, and the big dumb smile spreading on his face. 

“Yet,” he almost sighed, because ah, they were going to marry once all that was over with and he could scarcely believe it. Imelda seemed to get just a little redder in the face, but her lips curled in that small, secret smile of hers for a moment before she turned back to Sofía.

Who, on the other hand, seemed less than intimidated. “Awww,” she said, grinning, chin resting on her folded hands. Imelda scoffed. 

“Inappropriate,” she muttered, looking away, and downed her glass of mass wine in one gulp.

***

“I can’t believe I’m saying this twice in less than three days, but - a peso for your thoughts?”

“Huh?” John blinked, looking up from the homily they were putting together for the following Sunday, sitting at the desk in the sacristy. Leaning forward across the desk, Father Ernest poked his forehead between his eyes. 

“You’ve got a wrinkle right here.” He said, leaning forward some more until their faces were… close. Very close. Unnecessarily close. John cleared his throat and looked back down at the homily he was writing.

“Well, I am-- focused on my task.”

“You’ve got something on your mind.”

“It’s nothing, I was just thinking about…” he sighed, and put the pen down. “The man we buried two days ago.”

Father Ernest raised an eyebrow. “What about him?”

“I simply found it… saddening. That he’d die like that, so far from home…”

“Well, we don’t know where he’s from maybe it isn’t that far--”

“Without his family to bid him goodbye, is what I mean,” John cut him off, and Father Ernest fell silent for a few moments. 

“... I see,” he finally said, his voice a little more somber. He didn’t prod for John to speak again, but he did anyway, gaze still fixed on the drying ink.

“I am willing to give my life to the Lord if need be, but I hope… I hope I’ll be able to return home, one day. Even for just a visit - a holy man, having accomplished something great. So that my father may call me his son again, just one more time. So I can embrace my mother and see my siblings again. It is… not too much to ask, is it?”

“No,” Father Ernest said, very quietly. “It is not too much. It’s too little, if anything. They are the ones who don’t deserve this kind of devotion.”

John shook his head. “I failed them. The Bible says, honor thy father and--”

“It also says not to stir up anger in one’s children.”

“He did not-- he was trying to protect my siblings from…” he paused, and swallowed. He didn’t protest when Father Ernest’s hand reached to tilt up his chin. He looked back at him, their faces so close he almost felt the warmth of his skin. It didn’t occur to him that they were in the sacristy, that anyone could walk in, that it was inappropriate. In that very moment, it did not seem inappropriate at all; just comforting beyond words. “I am just tired,” he murmured. “I’m tired of being an outcast.”

“But you are not,” Father Ernest said, eyes fixed on his own - those brown eyes with specks of amber, ah, if only he could photograph them now. “You’re doing well here, no? Helping out the people here. Keeping everyone fed, what’s holier than that?”

“I… keeping them fed is not enough, I am to… to shepherd their souls…” John paused and swallowed, thinking back of the smiles the day the supplies arrived, Miguel thanking him, the pats on his shoulder. People smiled more often at him, now, and it was like a balm to wounds.

He managed a smile, and Father Ernest smiled back. John averted his gaze from his eyes and maybe looking down was not such a bright idea, because suddenly all he could focus on were his lips. They were so close, he thought, if only he leaned in just a little more, as Father Ernest was doing now… ah, there - the soft brush of lips on lips, and John’s eyes fluttered closed as he found himself unable to think of a single good reason to pull away. 

And then there was a knock on the door, which was in fact an excellent reason to pull away. 

They did, hastily, and John cleared his throat before he focused on the letter and calling for whoever was outside to come in, praying to God his face had not turned into something vaguely resembling a tomato as the sudden heat on his cheeks seemed to suggest. 

The door opened, and one of the nuns - Sister Lucy, was it? - was in the doorway.

“I’m sorry to interrupt - there is someone who wishes to confess herself. She says it is quite urgent - asked for Padre Ernesto specifically.”

“Ah, the Cordero widow,” Father Ernest said, sounding rather amused, and stood. “I’ll go right away. I suspect I know what she has to confe--”

“We do not discuss or divulge confessions,” John spoke up, cutting him off and holding back a grimace. Of course Father Ernest had already said too much in his presence before, and he rather wished he would scrub that particular mental image from his brain. He could have lived a very happy life without ever knowing how friendly a widow well in her sixties could get with handymen two or three decades younger.

And the way Father Ernest had briefly talked about it, it sounded like she was more interested in trying to entice a good-looking young priest to be next rather than actually repenting, which John found… somewhat aggravating. 

“Right, right,” Father Ernest was saying, waving a hand. “You know I jest. I’ll be back as soon as she’s done to keep working on that homily,” he added, grin just a little too wide, and walked out of the room while John was left trying to will himself into not turning red, again. He cleared his throat and picked up the pen again, glancing back at the homily and rubbing his lips with the back of his hand.

They still seemed to tingle from that light touch and ah, it was wrong, he knew. That was a gesture reserved for man and woman, for man and wife, not for… for… whatever they were. Somehow, it felt more intimate - more taboo - than anything else they had shared. 

“Um, Padre John?” Sister Lucy spoke up, causing him to recoil and look up from the homily again; he’d been so lost in thought, he’d assumed she had left. But there she was, and she was holding out… a letter? “This just arrived for you.”

Ah, that seal - the Archdiocese of Antequera. They did get his letter after all, John thought, feeling rather guilty; so long had gone by without an answer, he’d rather begun to hope it had become lost on the way. He certainly hoped he had not landed Father Ernest in any trouble. 

If he did, well, he really ought to answer immediately and set things right, tell them he’d been mistaken-- well... perhaps he’d say he’d been too quick to pass judgment, and that Father Ernest had shown marked improvement, proving himself a capable shepherd of souls. It would smooth things out, John thought, and took the envelope, feeling rather sheepish.

“Thank you, Sister,” he said, and she nodded, leaving the sacristy. As she shut the door behind herself, John sighed, opened the envelope, unfolded the letter, and began reading. He didn’t read very far, and sheepishness quickly turned to confusion, which grew and grew with each line as his gaze moved past the greeting and on to the meat of it.

With all due respect, we believe - as certainly you have by now realized - that you’re mistaken. Padre Joaquín is no novice, his seminary days far behind him. He was highly recommended for his strong leadership, a very important asset in such turbulent times, when faith is tested. Is there a possibility you met one of the novices instead? Language can be a barrier…

The letter went on to almost the bottom of the page, useless word and pleasantries, but John read none of it: they blurred into nothing as his eyes scanned the same lines, time and time again, trying to make sense of what he was reading. 

Padre Joaquín. John’s first thought was that there must have been a mistake, that the letter was not meant for him, but of course that couldn’t be it; it was addressed to him, Father John Johnson, in Santa Cecilia, from the Archdiocese of Antequera.

The wrong envelope, then. He mistakenly put this letter in the envelope addressed to me.

No… no, that was not it either: his name was there, too, in the upper left, as a greeting. John Johnson. How many other priests called John Johnson could possibly be in Oaxaca, sending a letter of complaint concerning a parish priest?

But that reply, it had… nothing to do with Father Ernest, nothing at all. John scanned the rest of the letter, reeling, hoping for a mention of him... but there was nothing. The late Father Edmund was mentioned, Brother Héctor was mentioned, the Mother Superior, John himself - but not Father Ernest. He was not named once: there was only that other name.

Padre Joaquín is no novice. He was highly recommended for his strong leadership.

I never met this man, John thought, and suddenly he felt cold. He let the letter fall on the table, heart suddenly beating so fast he could feel it thudding in his head. Something emerged in the back of his mind, a thought - barely formed, too ugly, too vile to contemplate. He chased it away before he fully grasped it but it was still there, lingering just beyond conscious thought.

His confirmed name, John thought desperately. Many priests changed their name upon taking the vows; perhaps that was it, Ernest was his given name and the letter referred to him with his confirmed one, or vice versa. That was it, it had to be it. It would explain everything, and yet…

Padre Joaquín is no novice, his seminary days far behind him. 

But Father Ernest was young, younger than John himself. He’d thought he was fresh out of the seminary, he must have been, he was too young. He’d thought of that only a few days earlier on the hill, as he looked at him sleep in the light of the rising sun, his forehead so smooth and expression so peaceful - that he was the very portrait of youth and its beauty. 

All things bright and beautiful. 

Or a temptation sent by the devil, he’d thought for a brief moment. 

God, he thought now, a cold hand seizing his throat. Oh God, oh Jesus Christ, please, no.

John shut his eyes and swallowed, trying to keep his breathing steady and calm down. He ought not to panic, he told himself, he had no reason to. There was an explanation, certainly, an innocent one. One that would not tear apart his world, one that would not make him wish he’d die from infection back in Easter. There had to be an explana--

“All right, done. That was nothing to write home abou-- Juan? Are you all right?”

John’s head snapped up as though someone had shouted in his ear and there was Father Ernest in the doorway. He looked confused and… and concerned. John let out a long breath and dared hope it was, after all, just a misunderstanding. He would feel foolish once it was explained, surely. He stood, refusing to acknowledge how fragile he suddenly felt, the coldness in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing doubt in the back of his mind that threatened to give way to horror if not chased away. 

When he spoke, he scarcely recognized his own voice. It sounded distant, and raspy, and very far away. “What is your name?”

The man before him blinked; the concern was still there, or so it seemed, but confusion grew. “Qué? Juan, are you feeling--”

“Tell me your name!” John snapped, his voice tight. He felt as though his sanity was held together with string and a prayer, and neither was helping much. The concern vanished into annoyance. 

“Ernesto. With an o at the end, for the record, which you keep forgetting--”

“Is that what your parents named you?”

“Uh, yes? I was rather young to choose mysel--”

“What is your confirmed name?”

The question seemed to hit him like a slap to the face, and he reared back, blinking fast, as though not comprehending what he’d just been asked. Then his gaze fell on the desk - on the letter, on the open envelope that very clearly wore the seal of the Archdiocese of Antequera - and suddenly his eyes went wide, his jaw slack. The confusion vanished, replaced by realization and obvious, white-faced terror. 

And John knew, the wall of denial he’d hastily tried to build up crashing down on him, pinning him down, making it hard to breathe. He gasped, stepping back, but hardly any air seemed to get in his lungs. It was as though something had grasped his chest and squeezed.

No. No, no, no, no, no.

"What was the name of your seminary?" John choked out. He almost stumbled, and as the room seemed to spin around him he saw… whoever that was instinctively stepping forward, holding out a hand as though to steady him. A wave of sudden, visceral revulsion made him cry out. 

“Don’t touch me!”

Too late, it is too late, oh God I have been defiled and it is too late.

“Tell me-- tell me the name of your seminary!”

“I…” the man he’d called Father Ernest until scarcely ten minutes earlier, the man he’d trusted with his immortal soul, seemed unable to come up with a reply. He stared in silence, skin ashen pale, while John brought a hand to his mouth.

“What…” he choked out. “What has become of Father Joaquín?”

A brief silence, and he looked away. John would learn only much later that Ernesto hadn’t known the name of the priest whose robes he’d donned until that moment. “... He’s dead. He was sent to replace the previous parish priest, but he never made it to Santa Cecilia.”

A shaky breath, and John found himself asking. “When… how…”

“A group of revolutionaries. He tried to give the last rites to two soldiers they were about to hang. It was enough for them to decide he was an enemy and leave him for dead, tied to the tree they hang from. By the time I got there, it was... late. Too late. I couldn’t help him.”

Horrifying as the notion was, there was a frail sliver of hope and John clung to it with all his might. Perhaps he was, after all, a young priest - trying to fill up the shoes of a mentor, to carry on his legacy. Maybe Father Joaquín had been to him what Father Joseph had been to John and grief works in odd ways, maybe… maybe…

“Was he your… your mentor, or… are you a novice… why did you take his place, how come the Archdiocese doesn’t know? Did you not report it-- he ought to have got a decent funeral, you… you…”

“John…”

“Are you a priest at all?” John forced out the question, dreading the answer but ah, he had to know, he needed to know, even if deep down he knew the answer, had seen it in those eyes, in that expression like that of a trapped animal. He still prayed for a yes, a nod, anything.

Please, tell me you are. I will believe you. Oh God, will believe anything you say. 

For several moments, Ernest stared - his expression suddenly blank, his eyes the only thing in his face that moved at all; John could almost imagine his brain working quickly behind them and it was that, the calculation, that made the answer plain once and for all. 

He was no priest. He was no novice. He’d never been a member of the clergy at all. 

As John’s knees threatened to give in, Ernest drew in a long breath and spoke quietly.

“If word of this comes out, I’m a dead man,” he said. His words barely registered.

“No.” John’s vision turned blurry, and he shook his head, shut his eyes. Tears fell down his cheeks, dripped down his chin. How could it be, how could he have been so blind? His unconventional way of holding Mass, the unhortodox behavior, his leniency on sin and the frankly awful Latin - it all made sense now. How could he not know?

“No.”

“Please, listen to me. I had--”

No. I have listened enough. I have listened too much. 

All those times he’d reassured him. All those nights beneath the same blanket. Every word he’d said, every absolution he’d uttered afterwards - a lie. Worthless. All he had done was place stain upon stain on his soul, drive him deeper and deeper into sin, and he’d pretended to absolve him with empty words he had no right to pronounce, with no power in Heaven to make them worth the breath wasted to utter them.

He was never absolved of the sin. Those absolutions that meant everything to him were nothing. How could he believe they meant anything, even for a moment? That he could sin and be absolved, that it could be so easy? He’d let himself be tricked, debased - defiled. He was no longer worthy of his collar. He could never be a holy man again. He could never go home. .

Horror gripping his throat, he found himself unable to speak for several moments. He could only tremble, and force out words. “You… you… you beast…!”

“No, listen - if this comes out I’m as good as dead, I--”

“What are you!”

Astonishingly, Ernest had the gall to scowl. “A man trying to save his neck, that’s what I am,” he snapped, and made a grab for the letter on the table. But this once, John was faster and he snatched it up first. The man glared at him across the desk; if not for the tears blurring his sight before he blinked them away, John would have seen a flash of something in his eyes. He would have seen murder in them. 

But he didn’t see and perhaps, in that moment, he wouldn’t have even cared. “Tell me what you are!” he hissed, furiously wiping his eyes. “You made a mockery of the holy Church! Of everyone in this parish, of my vows, you-- you vile demon, you--!”

“The Federal army is looking for me, you don’t understand, you stupid gringo!” Ernest hissed, clearly trying to keep his voice low in case anyone walked by the door of the sacristy. Somehow, the words hit him harder than a blow.

Stupid gringo. This is how he sees me. This is how he’s always seen me.

Something within John hurt, intensely enough to make him think it was about to shatter… and then it turned cold, dull. When he wiped his face this time, no more tears spilled out to wet it again. He just looked at that man, expressionless, silent.

“I deserted and ran. If the Federal army finds me, I’ll hang,” he was saying, his voice strained as the word ‘hang’ left his mouth. “And they won’t use me the kindness of making it a clean fall with a broken neck.”

“A suitable end for a criminal.” John’s voice rang out so cold, it seemed to stun that animal into silence. He stared at him, eyes wide, and shook his head. 

“No,” he replied, suddenly defensive. “I am not a criminal, I was just-- I was minding my own damn business, and then they just drafted me, put a rifle in my hand and made me a killer. You have no idea - you wouldn’t last a minute in a battle! You don’t know what I saw! The shit I had to do! I had to get away, whatever it took! I--”

“And you chose to insult the Almighty with this… this ridiculous pantomime!” John spat, and leaned over the desk, furious. “I have met deserters! I have heard their confessions, what they endured, why they fled - none of them dared do what you have done! Have you no shame? You could have asked for help, the parish would have protected you--”

"Oh, that would have worked out great!” Ernest spat back. “I’d have just strolled in Santa Cecilia, a complete stranger, and told everyone I was a soldier of the Federal army until three days earlier - what a great idea! For all I knew, all they’d have given me was the hangman’s noose, or sold me out to them. This was... it wasn't supposed to go on this long. I just needed some time hidden away, and… and then…”

“And then you found you enjoyed mocking God and His Church?”

“I was safe here! If anybody knows - if that letter is found - that would be my death warrant.” Ernest held out his hand as though to take the letter, desperation plain in his voice, and John stepped away, moving around the desk with a sound close to a snarl.

“Such insolence, believing your miserable life is worth more than the sanctity of the Church!”

“I did what I had to do, I… I had no choice--”

"No choice!” John almost screamed. He’d never felt so sickened, so furious, so ashamed, so hurt. He’d trusted him with his secret, with his soul, with his body - and it all had been the sick joke of a godless man to whom nothing was sacred. “How did you have no choice but to defile me! To corrupt me! I was pure, I’d kept myself celibate and you… you…”

No offense, he had said, but I think you’re going to stay a maricón regardless of where you are.

Ah. Of course - of course, now it made sense; he hadn’t made his move until John had expressed his intention to leave, and suddenly he’d been so keen to keep him from doing so, even resorting to indecent proposals with the pretense of trying to help him through his affliction.

What a master manipulator he’d been, faking concern for his safety when, in truth, he only wanted to keep him from leaving and possibly mentioning him by name to the wrong people. 

Like a man such as him could muster care for anyone other than himself.

The hangman’s knot is all he deserves, John thought, but the moment he tried to picture it happening, something within the coldness in his chest ached. And God knew, he hurt him enough already.  

“You ruined me,” he said, very quietly. “It seems fitting I should ruin you in return, but I shall not further sully my soul with your murder. You have three days.”

Ernest blinked, taken aback. “Three days?”

“Three days of my silence before I speak. A fair head start, I believe. If you’re not gone at the dawn of the fourth day, I will expose you,” John said and stepped towards the door.

“No-- wait! Give me that letter! John, listen to me, please--”

When a hand closed around his wrist, he was not surprised - only repulsed. He glared at him, seething, unable to feel the tiniest shred of sympathy for the obvious desperation on his face. He failed, in his horror, to recognize any of it as sorrow. 

“I will scream,” John warned, “and expose you immediately. What does it matter who has the letter? It is enough that I know.”

Ernest’s gaze darkened, but he did let him go, stepping back. John brushed his sleeve like it had touched something filthy. “Three days,” he repeated, and went to the door. He was in the doorway when that man spoke, his voice a growl befitting the debased animal he truly was.

“If you speak, so will I. I will tell them what you let me do to you. I will drag you down with me.”

Ah, there was plenty John could reply to him. He could reiterate just how vile he was, remind him that he had a standing he did not have and that, should it come to it, his word would hold the most weight. But he did not. 

If it came to it he’d confess everything, and throw himself at the mercy of the Holy Catholic Church. 

“Don’t you see it, you foolish man?” John said instead, turning to look at him. His very soul ached; was that scowling lowlife truly the same sleeping man whose face he’d likened to that of an angel only days earlier? Who’d pressed his mouth on his own barely half an hour ago, in that very same room? “You already have. You have dragged me down as low as you could get me, and I can never rise again,”  he said, and turned before he could see the tears filling up his eyes again as he closed the door behind him, the letter still clenched tightly in his hand. When he spoke again, it was to the empty corridor.

“I have nothing left to lose.”

***

Ernesto’s first instinct when the door closed, leaving him alone in the sacristy, was to throw it open, run after that goddamned gringo and rip that letter out of his hands, scream and threaten - grasp his neck and silence him, if need be - or maybe, just maybe, try to plead.

His second instinct was to throw the door open and run exactly in the opposite direction - get everything he had in a sack, make a run for the stables, get on a horse and run as far away as possible before John Johnson was able to utter his death sentence.

In the end, he did neither of those things. He stood there for a full minute, hearing nothing but his own pounding heart and the blood rushing in his ears, stunned by how quickly the ground had been ripped away from beneath him. How quickly John had put it together. How quickly he’d turned against him. It was terrifying, it was infuriating and, in an odd way, it was painful.

I had no choice. He didn’t even listen, why wouldn’t he listen? We harmed no one, we did nothing wrong.  I was only trying to be left in peace through a war I never wanted any part in. 

And war was exactly what he’d find outside Santa Cecilia, whichever direction he chose to flee; the corpse of Jesús Ibarra abandoned on the parish grounds had shown him that very clearly. And why should he leave? He had found refuge in that village, in that parish. Did the people of Santa Cecilia not love Padre Ernesto? Of course they did. 

And they loved him because he’d made it a better place than it was before. He’d made it his own, what right did that gringo have to chase him away? To threaten his life, threaten to destroy everything? No right, that was it. No right at all.

I was trying to survive. He came to my bed willingly. I did nothing wrong. 

Ernesto rubbed his face, pacing across the room, mouth dry and ears buzzing as he considered his limited options. The gringo’s self-righteousness, or maybe his desire to watch Ernesto squirm, had gained him three days if his word was to be believed. Three days to keep him from destroying everything . 

A lot could happen in that time. Plenty of unfortunate incidents could occur in three days. 

Something ached in his chest, gripped his throat, but Ernesto refused to acknowledge it. He’d killed before to save his life, and he could do it again. He would do it again, and John had no one to blame but himself. Ernesto ground his teeth, furious at that idiot for putting him in that position, for forcing his hand. It didn’t have to happen, he didn’t want to do it, but the gringo had made his choice and left Ernesto none. He couldn’t stand idly and do nothing as everything came crashing down on him. 

Todo modo, John had once said, quoting the founder of his order. Ernesto remembered thinking those were certainly words to live by. Words to die by. 

Whatever it takes.

***

As he walked in his room with a heavy heart and reached for his Bible, John had only wanted to pray. Open his Bible, read his father’s letter again - the passage clearly condemning sodomites to the fires of Hell - then pray for forgiveness, absolution, one more chance to set things right. 

But then his gaze had fallen on the camera, that small Brownie he had been so surprised to find tucked away in that corner of Mexico. The one he’d taken with him to photograph Santa Cecilia at dawn only days ago, and… and Ernest’s face, and he slept…

All things bright and beautiful, a mocking voice whispered in the back of his mind, so full of scorn - his father’s voice, so many years after he’d last heard it. All things wise and wonderful - but he’s neither wise or wonderful, is he? A temptation sent by the devil. You ought to have known all along, but you made a different call and it was the wrong one. 

“I trusted him,” John choked out in the empty room, shaking in every limb. His voice was weak as it had been the night he’d been cast out, as he pleaded like the child he was. “I trusted him.”

There’s no depravity a sodomite would not commit. Is that not what I told you? That is why you may never return to my household. How did you forget? How did you let an imposter fill your head with lies? How could you let him make you believe you were hurting no one? Your every act was an offense to God, and yet you returned to him time and time again!

“N-no, I--”

You craved it. You crave it still. 

“No!”

John acted out blindly, without thinking, barely choking back the cry that threatened to tear out of his lungs. The heavy Bible, a present from Father Joseph - son, his poor mentor had called him son despite everything, oh God if he could see him now - was swung in an arc and hit the camera, sending it to crash on the ground. John fell on his knees and brought the Bible down again, and again and again, until the thin aluminium bent, until the lens shattered. 

Panting, arms aching, he let the Bible drop on the floor, and only then realized he’d torn the cover off in his fury. His father’s letter, his rejection, fluttered on the floor next to it. 

Oh. Oh God, I am sorry. Father Joseph, I’m so sorry. Lord have mercy, Christ have mercy...

John opened his mouth, tried to utter a prayer, but his sight went blurry and no discernible words left his mouth as he finally, alone, allowed himself to break.

***

[Back]

[Next]

#pixar coco #ernesto de la cruz #imelda rivera #hector rivera #miguel rivera #coco #fake priest au