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inktog · 2 years

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Ants, Eyes, Butterflies, and the Hole in Marcy’s Heart

[CW: child sex abuse, rape, incest, body dysphoria, Christianity, transphobic hate crimes]

Ever since True Colors aired, I’ve wondered at the sexual implications of Andrias skewering Marcy with his flaming blade. Sometimes a sword is just a sword, I know. Sometimes a large man ramming his gigantic sword through an adolescent girl in a way that draws attention to how small and vulnerable she is by comparison, is just a large man ramming his gigantic sword through an adolescent girl in a way that draws attention to how small and vulnerable she is by comparison (220).

But the sexual violence imagery kept piling up—especially in the Core’s possession of Marcy (307b).

As this anon points out, Andrias puts a person inside of Marcy (307b): symbolic impregnation, foreshadowed by the fertilization imagery that precedes her impalement (220, above). The binary data that floods her body, ganking her physical autonomy (307b), is akin to a swarm of gametes, the “DNA” of the Core—which is itself both impregnator and, as a disembodied robot head, the child.

Compounding the impregnation imagery is the facehugger-like claw that snatches Marcy from the safety of Olivia and Yunan (307b). This might seem like a stretch, but Alien’s facehuggers are referenced more overtly in Marcy’s debut episode (206), so the callback seems noteworthy.

Finally, the Core keeps Marcy’s consciousness “locked in a little room” while piloting her body (314b). This strikes an eerie parallel to Apothegary’s spores, which make Sprig feel like “a prisoner in my own body” (119a) and which symbolize sexual abuse.

The big question is: Why does Marcy live out an extended rape metaphor within the dreamscape of Amphibia? Let’s start with the most obvious explanation.

Answer #1: Marcy was sexually assaulted and impregnated sometime before leaving Earth. Her impalement and possession is a reenactment of that trauma. If Andrias is a mythic stand-in for Marcy’s father, then her dad is the likely perpetrator.

I think it’s important to sit with this reading and not dismiss it out of hand for being too upsetting. Amphibia is a coming-of-age story, and sexual violence is, horribly, a part of many people’s childhoods. Young teen girls are assaulted more often than any other age-gender demographic. About half of child sex abuse is committed by family members.

That Marcy willingly returns to her parents is a strike against this idea, or at least against her dad being the rapist—although it’s not out of the question that Marcy would choose a known evil over fear of the unknown after all the horrors she experienced in Amphibia.

But in any case, it’s not the only explanation.

Ants vs. Newts

Mind-body dualism is a recurring theme for Marcy. The Shadow Fish are incorporeal ghosts, defeated only once they become flesh and blood (210a). Triple B declare themselves “analysts” as they scoff at “field work” (206). Decapitation, a literal separation between head and body, shows up three times in conjunction with Marcy: the ant head presented to Olivia (206), the Toadstool clock tower (215a), and Fleafy (216b). The Core alienates Marcy’s brain from her own flesh (314b). And way back in her debut episode, Newtopia is a paragon of intellectualism and culture, while the invading barbariants are driven by animal instinct (206).

The barbariant-newt conflict is also gendered. The ants have a queen with no king; Newtopia, a king with no queen (206). They are earthly, bodily, mortal, female; we are enlightened, disembodied, our rulers immortal (307b, 314b), our king male. They procreate and die; we preserve and persist.

So when the ants threaten to “turn Newtopia into a giant anthill” (206), the fear is not just body overwhelming mind, but also female displacing male. Accordingly, the anthill evokes a uterus (given the focus on queen-as-mother) and breasts (a mound of female earth). This is firmly Marcy’s episode, Marcy’s mission, Marcy’s triumph—and Marcy’s body dysphoria.

He witnesses his own reflection, and it is horror: a jump scare that causes him to recoil in fear (210a). Apparently, Marcy doesn’t like looking at himself. I count this as another point for body dysphoria, backed up by the fact that he alone doesn’t keep his copy of the trio’s photo.

Marcy, like a Shadow Fish, fears the mirror because it embodies them—makes the fact of their female flesh undeniable. (Or, well, “female.” I’m sacrificing perfectly trans-inclusive terminology for the sake of clear communication, with the justification that Marcy’s unconscious also seems to conflate sex and gender.) The butterfly which distorts their visage signifies metamorphosis, change—puberty.[1]

The recurring rift between mind and body is symbolic of Marcy’s tendency to get “in the zone”: to shut out her physical surroundings and focus with single-minded determination on a puzzle, game, or some other mental task (206, 214). This is plausibly the result of an innate neurodivergence; autism and ADHD are common headcanons. But dysphoria provides an alternate, or at least supplementary, explanation: Marcy’s body is the unbearable reality from which she escapes to her head.

Answer #2: For some trans folks, the mere existence of unwanted sex characteristics feels like a violation on par with rape. The extended sexual violence metaphor of Andrias and the Core—the betrayal, the loss of autonomy, the abject horror—communicates Marcy’s relationship to his own body as puberty takes its hold.

The Penetrating Gaze

Marcy’s psyche spawns monsters with prominent, leering eyes: the Core (307a) and the Shadow Fish (210a). This could just be a symptom of Marcy’s social anxiety, their “trouble looking people in the eye” (207a). But given the sexual symbolism already present in the Core’s treatment of Marcy, I’m inclined to view it as a kind of ogling.

Andrias’ sword is part of a Biblical allusion that we’ll dig into later. For now, just note that “a flaming sword turned every way” (Genesis 3:24) evokes the omnipresent, red-orange glare of the Core, and thus conflates the act of looking with the act of assaulting.

During the mirror jump scare, Marcy’s gaping, toothy maw is a callback to “bad boy” Branson, whose open trap (210a) is both lepidopteran and yonic.[2] Through the plant, butterfly with teeth becomes synonymous with vagina dentata, a fantastical defense against rape. For Marcy, then, puberty is a time to throw up defenses against the possibility of sexual violence.

Answer #3: The leering gaze which haunts Marcy represents unwanted sexual attention from peers or adults directed at her maturing body. Rape and pregnancy are not reenacted traumas, but unrealized fears: the horrifying endgame of all this attention.

Between Anne and Sasha’s dueling and Andrias’ flame blade, swords are sexualized. Marcy is the only one of the trio who doesn’t wield a sword, a possible hint that he’s ace.

Answer #3a: Marcy’s discomfort with sexual attention is compounded by their asexuality.

A popular interpretation of the prom poster and Sashanne fusion (Amphibia 307b) is that Marcy is attracted to both of her friends; she’s afraid that they’ll start dating each other and that she’ll be left behind. After being confronted with this nightmare, Marcy becomes the leering eyes, villain of her own story (307b). Even earlier, Marcy’s fear of her own reflection likens her to the other set of oglers, the Shadow Fish (210a).

Perhaps Marcy fears the power of his own gaze—thinks he’s hurting Sasha and Anne just by looking at them, wanting them. And perhaps the fiery phallus (220) belongs not just to Marcy’s rapist, but simultaneously to Marcy himself, sprouting unwanted from his heart, which will soon bear one of a set of red eyes (307b).

Answer #1a: As a result of an assault, Marcy was forcibly given sexual knowledge beyond their years, which colored their perception of both Anne and Sasha. Marcy has a lot of shame attached to the assault and to their own experience of sexual attraction.

Answer #1b: Marcy believes her assault to be the source of her transmasculinity.

Back to Paradise

Marcy thinks he and his friends can keep adventuring “forever and ever” and “never have to grow apart” (220). Perhaps Andrias hinted earlier (off-screen) at his ability to cheat death, or perhaps Marcy just assumes that he’ll find the secret to immortality somewhere in the great wide multiverse. Either way, Marcy does not want to die.

The phrase never grow also implies not growing up. We’ve already discussed Marcy’s fear of puberty, which they might associate with unwanted sexual attention, sexual trauma, or dysphoria-inducing body traits.

The dual anxieties of mortality and puberty are united in the image of the butterfly, which symbolizes not only metamorphosis and change, but also (as any post–season 2 Amphibia theorist would tell you) death; and in the barbariants, who play not only the queen to Newtopia’s king, but also the fleeting individual lifespan to its timeless immortality. Female flesh, mortal flesh—for Marcy, it’s one and the same.

This duality is reflected in the Biblical story of original sin. For those unfamiliar with the myth: After God creates the universe, he makes two humans, Adam and Eve, and gives them free reign of the bountiful Garden of Eden (Genesis 2). The humans are allowed to eat from any tree in the garden (2:16), except the tree of the knowledge of good and evil (2:17). A malicious serpent tempts Eve to disobey this rule (3:1–6), who in turn tempts Adam (3:6). The humans previously existed in a state of childlike sexual innocence, “not ashamed” of their nakedness (2:25)—but after eating the forbidden fruit, they become able to conceptualize evil and shame, and they cover their naked bodies (3:7). For their disobedience, God casts them out of Eden (3:23).

The show alludes to this passage rather strongly with its inciting incident—Anne is tempted to disobedience and theft, with the music box functioning as the forbidden fruit, and then the friends are cast from the only world they’ve ever known: literally Earth, but also childhood, symbolized by the gated playground from which they depart (Amphibia 101b), and on Anne’s thirteenth birthday (120) no less, a cultural milestone for the start of adolescence—so I’m comfortable mining it for further analysis.

The myth shares with Marcy’s dreamscape a tight connection between sexual maturity and death. In forbidding the tree of the knowledge of good and evil, God cautions that “in the day that thou eatest thereof thou shalt surely die” (Genesis 2:17). He makes good on this promise after they disobey, cursing them with a mortal life full of struggle and strife: “In the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread, till thou return unto the ground; for out of it wast thou taken: for dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou return” (3:19). God exiles humans from Eden to make sure they stay mortal, for within the garden is a tree whose fruit grants immortality (3:22–23), and if the humans ate that, it would completely undo the whole dust unto dust punishment.

Marcy has a particular, peculiar concept of immortality: she wants to escape death by returning to a state of perpetual physical childhood. This helps to explain many of the seemingly arbitrary infant symbols which coalesce around her—zombies are babies because they defy the natural cycle of life and death; disembodied heads are babies because Marcy wants to decouple physical growth from mental growth, freeing her consciousness from the baggage of an aging, growing, sexual(ized) body; robots are babies because of her transhumanist aspirations—as well as Marcy’s affinity for those symbols, especially plants (210a, 215b, 216b) and robots (215b, 216a).[3] Deathless childhood is loosely synonymous with transmasculinity, and in particular medical transition, since sexless is loosely synonymous with male under the male = mind, female = body schema.

God leaves a flaming sword to guard Eden against the humans’ return (Genesis 3:24). Remember that Earth is the Eden from which the trio have been cast. Marcy tries to go back (Amphibia 220), symbolically signaling a desire for immortality—i.e., medical transition—and Andrias impales him with a flaming sword (220).

Answer #1d: Marcy is a victim of homophobic rape—sometimes called “corrective” rape—assault motivated by a desire to “fix” their non-normative gender identity.

Conclusion

Well, that was a lot. In lieu of a single overarching thesis, I hope this post serves as a more up-to-date record of how I’ve been thinking about the sexual violence metaphor built into Marcy’s character arc.

Some of the explanations I provided are mutually exclusive, but most of them aren’t. Marcy could be trans and a survivor of assault and generally uncomfortable with sexual attention and guilty about desiring Anne and Sasha. Or any combination thereof. Maybe she’s dealt with rape threats but hasn’t been assaulted. Maybe she was actually raped, but pregnancy is an unrealized fear. Or I’m wrong about everything.

In any case, there’s a lot that’s left unstated, a lot to be unpacked, and a lot that I’m probably missing. Further lines of inquiry that I’d like to pursue include:

Darcy as a twisted wish fulfillment of Marcy’s immortality fantasy: body no longer maturing (per the axolotl helmet), mind uploaded to the Core.

The justification for patriarchy written into the myth of original sin.

The “bad boy” comment directed at Branson in light of Marcy’s possible transmasculinity.

Marcy’s relationship to plants more generally.[3]

Heart as the severed bridge between mind (Wit) and body (Strength).

I might update this post if I turn up anything coherent.

Footnotes

[1] If Marcy’s fears are manifest in the butterfly, why is he so enthusiastic about dressing up as “the personification of metamorphosis” (219b)? Perhaps it’s the agency: choosing to roleplay as puberty and change allows Marcy to engage with those fears on his own terms, which is quite different from unexpectedly coming face-to-face with them while already anxious and scared.

[2] If it seems far-fetched to consider the Branson yonic, then contrast with Grime’s murderplant in 120, a “she” with a big ol’ phallic tongue (below). I don’t know what this says about Sasha or Grime, but the total reversal of it in 210a—flipping the gender from female to male, and the sex from male to female—lends a sense of intentionality to Branson’s design.

[3] Plants are the only baby symbol that aren’t explained by Marcy’s immortality fantasy, yet they play an important role—the central role, arguably—in establishing Marcy’s fascination with childhood. At a first guess, maybe plants represent a kind of “natural” childhood (born of earth and water, dying like the rest of us) which might not fit Marcy’s fantasy but with which they’re nonetheless fascinated? Anyway.

—

Credit to an anonymous AO3 commenter for the observation that Andrias' flaming sword might be a Biblical reference.

Amphibia citations are SEE, where S is season number and EE is episode number. a and b denote each episode’s first and second segments, respectively.

Biblical quotes are from the King James Version.

#amphibia #marcy wu #meta #mine #nsfpc #i guess it was just a two-day break

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partysol-the-umbrella-wielder · 2 years

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Sooo this is weird but

Had a nightmare sequence about an apocalyptic Earth but instead of nukes or whatever it's that all the oceans fish mutated to start eating us all and such. It transmitted from different fishing vessels via touch so anyone trying to go to safety which is mutate more fish.

Worst part is my family was on a cruise which happened to be on the same cruise that accidentally held Markiplier for some reason and this was basically the comic relief character.

We all had to jump from random sinked to boat to random boat like that where you hop truck to truck until he found something that conceal itself I believe a type of garage. I made it. My aunt did. Mark did. Mom was implied she did but i didn't see her,,,, but my dad didn't.

On the brighter side this garage had a lot of food though it's near the bay so it's not exactly the best place mind you. the world in this dream looked like it's flooded so this is probably more dangerous than it sounds.

All I had in my bag was the stuff I had for my last D&D session which did include some Electronics which is nice but no extra clothes or anything since that was all still in my room on the ship which is now gone so here I am stuck in a clown outfit as a joke for multiple weeks as we bunker down.

Mark and me got along though as waited for any sign of help. Even convinced me that everything will be right in the end since amphibious creatures could probably replace fish like creatures if it has to come to that when he found a newt <:].

Tho eventually aunt kicked me out out of anger yelling about me stealing her wedding dress which I did not do while I was trying to scream for Mom to help I realized she wasn't in the bunker at the time

In the end I ran as close to land as I could but it was already too late as the fish jumped me and ate me bones and all before they died as well

right in front of a carnival

No one cared

#Markiplier #dream #i dunno

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allcxmeclose · 5 months

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Name: asher “newt” newton Gender: cis-male Pronouns: he / him Age: 27 Birthdate: oct 30th ( scorpio sun, cancer moon ) Sexual Orientation: pansexual Romantic Orientation: panromantic Profession: emt. various odd jobs Positive Traits: intuitive. loyal. nurturing. perceptive Negative Traits: mysterious. guarded. proud. possessive

Details:

asher newton has known struggle since he can remember.

an only child, his mother, ari, died a few years after he was born. he doesn’t remember much. just that she smelled like lotus and water lilies.

marcus, his father, did his best to raise him, but between grief and a gambling and a few other addictions, it was hard for him to function at all.

asher took care of him more than he did himself and there were more than a few nights the two of them went without one thing or another.

he was a loner in school, preferring his own company to the majority of his peers. he didn’t need their pity or judgement. in the massive amounts of free time he had, he spent it in the library, learning random skills and facts or out in the middle of the woods.

some of his hobbies include: gardening, fishing, geocaching, hunting, hiking, volunteering, and ham radio.

some of his fondest memories with his dad involved hunting and fishing, both skills he relied on heavily in his childhood/teenage years. he learned to garden in a similar vein, choosing to hunt and grow what he could to feed them both in rougher stints of time.

he graduated on time. not at the top of his class, but not at the bottom either. he coasted in the middle of most things, so much so, he doubts most of his graduating class even remembers him.

upon graduating he opted to take an emt program. he couldn’t afford college and his grades hardly warranted any scholarships. so it seemed like a good way to help people and put his skillset to use.

he worked several years helping to take care of his dad. about a year or two ago, marcus entered a few programs and with the help of ash and an old family friend, has improved.

he enjoys it and has been content with it (and a few other odd jobs here and there) for a while now.

with his dad getting better ( and courting previously mentioned family friend), asher’s thinking next steps. thoughts including potential moves, entering a paramedic program or both.

#asher newton::|| headcanon #asher newton::|| mini bio #::|| mini bio

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fillyoursoulxx · 6 months

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INTRODUCING… ASHER NEWTON

Name: asher "newt" newton Gender: cis-male Pronouns: he / him Age: 27 Birthdate: oct 30th ( scorpio sun, cancer moon ) Sexual Orientation: pansexual Romantic Orientation: panromantic Profession: emt. various odd jobs Positive Traits: intuitive. loyal. nurturing. perceptive Negative Traits: mysterious. guarded. proud. possessive

Details:

asher newton has known struggle since he can remember.

an only child, his mother, ari, died a few years after he was born. he doesn't remember much. just that she smelled like lotus and water lilies.

marcus, his father, did his best to raise him, but between grief and a gambling and a few other addictions, it was hard for him to function at all.

asher took care of him more than he did himself and there were more than a few nights the two of them went without one thing or another.

he was a loner in school, preferring his own company to the majority of his peers. he didn't need their pity or judgement. in the massive amounts of free time he had, he spent it in the library, learning random skills and facts or out in the middle of the woods.

some of his hobbies include: gardening, fishing, geocaching, hunting, hiking, volunteering, and ham radio.

he graduated on time. not at the top of his class, but not at the bottom either. he coasted in the middle of most things, so much so, he doubts most of his graduating class even remembers him.

upon graduating he opted to take an emt program. he couldn't afford college and his grades hardly warranted any scholarships. so it seemed like a good way to help people and put his skillset to use.

he worked several years helping to take care of his dad. about a year or two ago, marcus entered a few programs and with the help of ash and an old family friend, has improved.

he enjoys it and has been content with it (and a few other odd jobs here and there) for a while now.

with his dad getting better ( and courting previously mentioned family friend), asher's thinking next steps. thoughts including potential moves, entering a paramedic program or both.

#asher::|| mini bio #asher::|| hc #::|| mini bio

0 notes

leavesfromthesametree · 1 year

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9. Jonni Price Visitor experience manager, RSPB Conwy Photographed by Matt Horwood

Tell us something about yourself that nobody else knows. Um. I can lick my elbow? Which most people think is impossible… so it’s a great way of winning free drinks!

What do you enjoy doing in your own time? I’m a keen birder with a love for invertebrates too, so if I’m not at RSPB Conwy, I’m usually on another reserve somewhere birdwatching, chasing butterflies or diving in ponds! I’m mad about football too, and also enjoy running, camping, fishing and gardening.

Tell us a bit about your work as a visitor expperience manager? What do you love most about it? I’m involved in all aspects of visitor experience at RSPB Conwy. From events planning and social media, to signage, interpretation and more! I’m passionate about making sure that the reserve is a place for both wildlife and people; creating opportunities for our visitors to connect with nature, and inspiring the next generation to care for wildlife and the environment too.

If you had to pick one thing, what are you most passionate about? My last point above is one which I feel particularly strongly about, and is probably the aspect I enjoy the most about my job too. Inspiring people (especially young people) about nature, through hands-on experiences… and science! I began my career with the RSPB at Conwy as a volunteer education intern (AKA professional pond-dipper!) back in 2016, helping to lead school visits on the reserve. I lead similar activities with families and youth groups etc. in my current role, but I will still never tire of seeing the eyes of a child light up at their first sight of a dragonfly nymph, or their first stroke of a smooth newt!

What makes you angry? In the middle of a nature climate emergency, where should I start? I suppose the sheer ignorance of the natural world, and absence of care which many people seem to be capable of these days. Particularly when those people are in power, and are in control of what state the environment will be for generations to come.

If you could change one thing about the world, what would it be? Hm. Just ‘one thing’ feels a bit limited! Could I change the decade we’re in instead? That way we could see a lot of the changes I feel that we now need, already in place. And we could (hopefully) avoid ending up in the mess that we are today! Without certain technological and industrial advances, people simply had to be more connected to their environment and in tune with the natural world. And with wildlife like wild boars, beavers and wolves roaming our woodlands, the world was a little bit wilder too! Do you feel connected to nature and/or wildlife and if so, tell us a bit about when you first found an interest or felt connected. Absolutely. I feel that I always have been, from a young age anyway. Since sitting on the banks of fishing lakes with my grandad watching dragonflies dance, and tending to the allotment with my grandma collecting caterpillars and creating ponds. I used to catch bugs in the garden and nearby fields for hours on end, pot them all up and sit for hours with a book identifying as many as possible. Some would then get transferred to tanks and jars in my ‘museum’ (bedroom), where I would charge entrance fees to see them! As you can imagine, my mum and dad weren’t always amused by this, and I my arachnophobic sister wasn’t too fond either. Despite this though, they never stopped me being a bug nerd and encouraged me in all I did… even if it did result in the occasional escaped insect emergency! *** 9. Jonni Price Rheolwr ymweliadau, RSPB Conwy Llun gan Matt Horwood

Dywedwch rywbeth amdanoch eich hun nad oes neb arall yn ei wybod. Um. Gallaf lyfu fy mhenelin? Pa un sy’n amhosib ym marn y rhan fwyaf o bobl… felly mae’n ffordd wych o ennill diodydd am ddim!

Beth ydych chi'n mwynhau ei wneud yn eich amser eich hun? Rydw i’n adarwr brwd gyda chariad at infertebratau hefyd, felly os nad ydw i yn RSPB Conwy, rydw i fel arfer ar warchodfa arall yn rhywle yn gwylio adar, yn erlid glöynnod byw neu’n deifio mewn pyllau! Dw i’n wallgof am bêl-droed hefyd, a hefyd yn mwynhau rhedeg, gwersylla, pysgota a garddio.

Dywedwch ychydig wrthym am eich gwaith fel rheolwr ymweliadau? Beth ydych chi'n ei garu fwyaf amdano? Rwy’n ymwneud â phob agwedd ar brofiad ymwelwyr yn RSPB Conwy. O gynllunio digwyddiadau a chyfryngau cymdeithasol, i arwyddion, dehongli a mwy! Rwy’n frwd dros sicrhau bod y warchodfa yn lle i fywyd gwyllt a phobl; creu cyfleoedd i’n hymwelwyr gysylltu â byd natur, ac ysbrydoli’r genhedlaeth nesaf i ofalu am fywyd gwyllt a’r amgylchedd hefyd.

Pe bai'n rhaid i chi ddewis un peth, beth ydych chi'n angerddol amdano fwyaf? Mae fy mhwynt olaf uchod yn un yr wyf yn teimlo'n arbennig o gryf yn ei gylch, ac mae'n debyg mai dyma'r agwedd rwy'n ei mwynhau fwyaf am fy swydd hefyd. Ysbrydoli pobl (yn enwedig pobl ifanc) am fyd natur, trwy brofiadau ymarferol… a gwyddoniaeth! Dechreuais fy ngyrfa gyda’r RSPB yng Nghonwy fel intern addysg wirfoddol (AKA trochwr pwll proffesiynol!) nôl yn 2016, gan helpu i arwain ymweliadau ysgol â’r warchodfa. Rwy'n arwain gweithgareddau tebyg gyda theuluoedd a grwpiau ieuenctid ac ati yn fy rôl bresennol, ond ni fyddaf byth yn blino o hyd o weld llygaid plentyn yn goleuo ar eu golwg cyntaf o was y neidr, neu eu strôc gyntaf o fadfall lefn!

Beth sy'n eich gwylltio? Yng nghanol argyfwng hinsawdd natur, ble ddylwn i ddechrau? Tybiwn yr anwybodaeth pur am y byd naturiol, a'r diffyg gofal y mae llawer o bobl yn ymddangos yn alluog i'w wneud y dyddiau hyn. Yn enwedig pan fydd y bobl hynny mewn grym, ac yn rheoli pa gyflwr fydd yr amgylchedd am genedlaethau i ddod.

Pe gallech chi newid un peth am y byd, beth fyddai hwnnw? Hm. Dim ond ‘un peth’ sy’n teimlo braidd yn gyfyngedig! A gaf i newid y degawd yr ydym ynddo yn lle hynny? Y ffordd honno gallem weld llawer o'r newidiadau yr wyf yn teimlo sydd eu hangen arnom yn awr, sydd eisoes ar waith. Ac fe allen ni (gobeithio) osgoi diweddu yn y llanast yr ydym ni heddiw! Heb rai datblygiadau technolegol a diwydiannol penodol, yn syml iawn roedd yn rhaid i bobl fod yn fwy cysylltiedig â'u hamgylchedd ac yn unol â'r byd naturiol. A chyda bywyd gwyllt fel baeddod gwyllt, afancod a bleiddiaid yn crwydro ein coetiroedd, roedd y byd ychydig yn fwy gwyllt hefyd!

Ydych chi'n teimlo'n gysylltiedig â natur a/neu fywyd gwyllt ac os felly, dywedwch ychydig wrthym am pryd y daethoch o hyd i ddiddordeb gyntaf neu pan wnaethoch deimlo cysylltiad. Yn hollol. Teimlaf fy mod wedi bod erioed, o oedran ifanc beth bynnag. Ers eistedd ar lan llynnoedd pysgota gyda fy nhaid yn gwylio gweision y neidr yn dawnsio, a gofalu am y rhandir gyda fy mam-gu yn hel lindys a chreu pyllau. Roeddwn i'n arfer dal trychfilod yn yr ardd a'r caeau cyfagos am oriau o'r diwedd, eu potio nhw i gyd ac eistedd am oriau gyda llyfr yn adnabod cymaint â phosib. Byddai rhai wedyn yn cael eu trosglwyddo i danciau a jariau yn fy ‘amgueddfa’ (ystafell wely), lle byddwn yn codi tâl mynediad i’w gweld! Fel y gallwch ddychmygu, nid oedd fy mam a dad bob amser yn cael eu difyrru gan hyn, a doeddwn i ddim yn fy chwaer arachnoffobig yn rhy hoff chwaith. Serch hynny, nid oeddent byth yn fy atal rhag bod yn nerd pryfaid ac yn fy annog ym mhopeth a wnes … hyd yn oed pe bai'n arwain at ambell argyfwng pryfed a ddihangodd!

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geraskier · 1 year

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read all about it! very shy snail hides all day, contemplates and declines to take outdoor expedition next day

[image description: a white mystery snail with a brown striped shell in a pineapple house aquarium decoration. in the first image, the snail hangs upside down in the doorway with its long antennae curled up by its eyestalks. in the second, the snail has moved further into the decoration. in the third image, one of the snail's antenna is sticking out of an upper window of the house.]

#mystery snail #fishblr #snailblr #newt needs a text post tag #yeah princess peach killed and ate all of my amanos. i think im really starting to get behind the mindset #that anything smaller than a 10 gallon is like #either shrimp or a betta and throw snails in both #but you really cant sustainably have a betta in with shrimp unless its a breeding colony #which i learned first from footheflowerhorn #i think maybe i could have amanos and endlers in my 10gallon if i end up giving roomie the lipstick marking platy #newt is a fish dad #princess is the orange glo betta with red translucent fins #i knew this was a risk but princess peach is so small i thought shed leave alone established shrimp #WRONG lol but shes a darling so active and curious. i think prob one more mystery #and then thatll be 1 nerite 2 mysteries indeterminate ramshorns and pond snails and 1 betta in a 7.5gal tank that prob has 6.5gal in it #animal death in tags /

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scenefox2003 · 3 years

Text

Okay so ever since that theme song takeover and the trailer dropped I just knew that it was finally my time to shine and share my master list of

✨newt family headcanons✨

~Olivia and Yunan are gay. That’s an obvious one but it’s a prerequisite so I gotta put it in here

~Yunan is definitely the cool aunt type and very playful and down for some fuckery while Olivia is the complete opposite and the only person holding the family together because we all know Andrias is inept

~Andrias is the sweet goofy dad figure (which is an act but no one knows that) and sort of just lets anything happen

~Andrias and Yunan definitely both let Marcy ride on their shoulders

~Marcy loves to braid and style Olivia’s hair and she fucking sucks at it but no one has the heart to tell her

~don’t even ask me where this came from I don’t even remember coming up with this one, but you know those really heavy lawn darts from the 70s that got recalled several different times over the years? (if you don’t, look it up) that’s everyone except Olivia’s favorite bonding activity. Olivia hates it because this involves both Yunan and Marcy so someone usually ends up getting hurt

~Marcy introduces all of them to human subcultures, Yunan is obsessed with punk culture and alternative fashion, Olivia loves the white mom Facebook live laugh love type shit, and Andrias just becomes a full on incel

~Speaking of incel Andrias, he has never been in a relationship and CONSTANTLY bitches about it, and Marcy is the only one who doesn’t find it annoying and always encourages him. He’s also lowkey jealous of Yunan and Olivia for finding love

~Olivia has a really pretty singing voice and will sing to Marcy to help her fall asleep

~On Marcy’s first night in Newtopia, she shyly tells Andrias that she’s never slept without a stuffed animal before and she obviously doesn’t have one with her, so he immediately goes out and buys her one (it’s a cardinal)

~Speaking of birds, Yunan has one and it’s some dope ass raptor or something, Marcy IMMEDIATELY falls in love so Andrias is just like “lol you want one too” and that very same day she gets Joe Sparrow

~Andrias is a little shit and LOVES to make suggestive jokes about Olivia and Yunan, but Marcy is the type of seventh grader that’s completely clueless and naive about adult matters so he’s really the only one who finds any of it funny, it gets a good reaction out of Olivia though

~Yunan trained Marcy almost completely on her own, she was her mentor and REALLY saved her self confidence that had been destroyed by gym class back home

~Since Yunan and Marcy were on a warship together I like to think they both LOVE boats, Olivia gets seasick and Andrias is obviously too big but the two of them go out for a day on the water a lot, Yunan definitely has a jetski and is also the type to take those redneck selfies where you like hold up a fish

~the newts assumed that Marcy would get homesick, but she actually has the complete OPPOSITE problem where she’s absolutely terrified of having to go back home for whatever reason and she even has nightmares about it, she feels like her current life is too good to be true (which it is, just in a different way)

~Marcy will often call them mom or dad respectively by accident, and every time it happens they all think it’s really sweet

~Everyone except Marcy knows that “juice” is a euphemism to hide Olivia’s drinking problem, but she still always uses it no matter who she’s talking to, even around Yunan who is just like “bitch I’m your girlfriend I KNOW that’s vodka”

~Marcy regularly draws all of them, there’s a family portrait of them that she drew up on the castle fridge

~Andrias developed a taste for human teenage girl pop music and everyone around the castle is SO SICK of Carly Rae Jepsen, but Marcy has no regrets

~Marcy obviously introduces them all to video games and Andrias is really pissed because his hands are too big to play, Olivia straight up sucks at it but humors them and Yunan gets WAY too into it, her and Marcy’s Mario Kart sessions usually end in tears

~the worst sort of slang that Marcy has taught any of them is by far horrible gamer language, Andrias LOVES the word poggers and when Anne hears him say it for the first time she nearly has a heart attack

~Marcy is the only one who’s careful with her royal credit card because she’s terrified of the economy crashing, Olivia really appreciates her for that (despite being an irresponsible spender herself)

~Yunan has sworn to kill many of Marcy’s bullies back home, none of the newts can fathom why anyone wouldn’t like or respect her which is really good for her self esteem

~Andrias is the best at comfort, Olivia is the best at advice, and Yunan is the best at distraction

~Andrias is also really good at taking care of Marcy when she’s sick or hurt

~It’s always really sad for the other three when Yunan has to go out on missions, but when she comes back they always throw a big party

~Yunan isn’t the brightest and doesn’t really realize that Grime’s lieutenant Sasha and Marcy’s friend Sasha are the same person, and when she does she immediately feels extremely guilty and everyone swears not to let Marcy find out, because they know if she knew that Sasha and Yunan had a fight it would break her

~Yunan and Olivia regularly argue about who gets to have Marcy as their maid of honor at their future wedding

~When Yunan and Olivia find out that Marcy is staying in Amphibia forever, they’re both so relieved because they didn’t know if they could handle not having her around anymore (which is ironic I know)

#amphibia #marcy amphibia #general yunan #lady olivia #king andrias

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transgenderer · 2 years

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going to the fish store with my dad tonight, gonna play rockin rockin pet store on my phone

youtube

also, franklin bruno was "i drove north to buy a dog, he was brown" posting before anyone else:

I'm fond of that one because of what inspired me to write it—it was originally called 'Rockin' Rockin' Pet Store', it's called something else now—but I took Franklin Bruno, one of the best songwriters this country has produced in the past century, to buy crickets with me because I had a pet scorpion and some frogs, and I had to feed them crickets, and so I took him to buy the crickets, and I always get very excited in the pet store, because they have chameleons and their eyes move in different directions, and they had, oh, the fire-bellied toads, and these wonderful newts, and I get very excited, I'm kinda like a five-year old at Christmas in pet stores, and Franklin said, 'You're like Jonathan Richman in here!', and this was his imitation of me writing a song about it: 'I seen a lotta pets I can't afford/At the rockin' rockin' pet store'. And I thought well, somebody should do something...

#Youtube

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bcdrawsandwrites · 3 years

Photo

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: T

Genre: Angst

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Loboto’s parents

Warnings: Surgery, lobotomy, hallucinations, child abuse, EVERYTHING IS HORRIBLE AND NOTHING IS OKAY WITH THIS (but there’s nothing graphic)

Description: Just be still, and you'll be fine.

Beta Readers: @jaywings and Rocket (who I’m not sure is on Tumblr?)

Notes: who let me write Psychonauts fanfic. also some of the phrases in this fic were taken from this site.

---~~~---

“Scattering sparks of thought energy

Deliver me and carry me away”

“Here in my kingdom, I am your lord

I order you to cower and præy”

- The Mind Electric, by Tally Hall

---

Sometimes it was nice to just lay down in the park and watch the clouds float overhead.

He often had a lot of energy, both normal and... well... unnatural, but sometimes it was nice to relax, especially when he didn't feel like himself. His energy was ebbing, and there was something… something...

"Can you tell us another?"

He glanced up. Several of his usual playmates were standing around him, their faces lit up in interest. He grinned a wide, toothy grin.

"The boy babbled blatantly but was blessed with a brilliant brain!"

"Good!"

The compliment made his brow furrow. Normally they might cheer "cool!" or "awesome!" but he shrugged—he'd take it. It gave him a warm feeling inside, unlike the frequent chill of his own home. Plus, he couldn’t help but light up as he watched the smiles on his friends’ faces—some of them were still losing baby teeth, he noted, and the progression was fascinating. He knew what he could do to see more of those grins, too...

Without raising his head too much—it hurt a little, and he could see well enough from where he was—he glanced around to make sure his mother wasn't too close by. Luckily she was way off in the pavilion, talking to several other adults. Good; she wouldn't see, and neither would the other prying parents.

"How about this?" he asked, and with a tiny bit of concentration lifted a few rocks off the ground, spinning them in circles. Instead of cheering, however, the children backed away, their smiles fading.

"Look, he's trying to—!" one girl whispered frantically.

"Don't worry, he's fine for now."

He frowned, dropping the rocks. "O-oh, I'm sorry! I didn't think they would see..."

"That's okay. Can you tell us another?"

"Disappointed dogs don't do dangerous deeds." Wincing, he closed his eyes—there was a breeze that seemed to pass over his head only, running through his hair.

His scalp felt cold.

---

"Go on, Caligosto. Show the doctor how you can pick it up."

"Like this...?"

"No, the other way."

"But... mother doesn't like it when I do it that way."

"Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"...Okay..."

The fish swam all about the pond, but came closer to the surface when they realized he was watching from his usual spot on the shore. As they nearned him, he settled over the grass, staring down at his scaly friends. The fish seemed to like his company, and they wouldn't snitch to his parents if he did anything they wouldn't like.

On top of that, he felt a connection with them, almost like the sort of connection he could feel with people. They couldn't talk, and they didn't have facial expressions… but he could almost read them somehow, more and more as he continued visiting. Now he could sense what foods they wanted, or when they were scared of a nearby predator. It was nice to help them out.

It was also interesting to see the different kinds of teeth the fish had—some had sharp fangs, some had tiny flat teeth, and some had teeth in weird places, like their tongue or throat!

"Can you hear us?"

He would have jumped, but that would have scared the fish. As it was, he leaned forward, his eyes wide beneath their glasses. "Yes! I can hear you!" He could hardly contain his excitement. "I'd always thought I could hear you before, but never this clear! Do you think—"

"Good! Can you tell us another?"

He blinked. "Another what?"

"Another phrase."

Oh, right. In his excitement he'd nearly forgotten that he'd occasionally show off for the fish as well, though he'd never been sure if they could understand. "Friendly fish flip-flop fast when facing fearsome foes!"

"Very good!"

Giggling, he settled himself back down on the soft grass. "I'm glad you think so... my parents always tell me to be quiet."

Apparently, the fish had nothing to say to this, for they remained quiet, swimming just under the surface and watching him. So he kept watching them too, observing the light that reflected off their scales. But one creature caught his eye: a small turtle swimming in place. It was odd to see to begin with, but the paddling of its little feet seemed strangely frantic, its front legs moving in big sweeping arcs. It didn't speak, but he swore he could hear it—

Away, away—

---

"Is that... all he's capable of?"

"I'm afraid not."

"D—Father, are we done? I don't like it here..."

"Only speak when spoken to, Caligosto."

"Can we see anything else?"

"Yes."

"I-I don't want to—"

"Caligosto."

"Okay, okay! Let me—"

---

The seas were calm, and he had worked hard today as a navigator (or was he first mate? he couldn't quite remember, but that was okay), keeping a close eye on the compass and making sure they were staying on course. They were nearing the shore, but for now, he was taking a break, resting against a coil of rope with his eyes closed, enjoying the smell of the ocean air and the feeling of sunshine.

And also trying to forget his headache—he was pretty sure he bumped his head coming down from the crow's nest.

"You're doin' good today, mate! Squawk!"

He opened one eye, noting the parrot sitting just behind him. "Thanks, Crackers!"

Birds hadn’t been something that interested him too much at first; what kind of silly animal didn’t have teeth? That is, until he’d learned that birds have a weird organ that acted as their teeth. Fascinating!

The parrot cocked her head at him. "Do you know any more?"

Oh right, of course the parrot enjoyed those phrases. "The pretty parrot perched upon the putrid pirate's peacoat!"

Crackers gave a pleased chirp, ruffling her feathers.

Wincing, he found his headache was starting to get worse, like a bad toothache, and closed his eyes again. "Do you think we'll reach shore soon?"

We won't if you don't get out.

He opened his eyes. Crackers was gone.

---

"STOP! STOP! MAKE IT STOP!"

"What are you doing?!"

"I-I just did what you asked—"

"I didn't tell you to—!"

"I'm sorry!"

"Put him out, hurry—"

"We've seen enough, doctor. We'll schedule an appointment for your son next week."

"N-next week?!"

"Very well. He'll be there promptly."

---

The kids’ expressions had changed from bright smiles to tightly-drawn lips and wide eyes, and it made him shudder. "Is something wrong?" he asked.

"No, it's fine. Tell us another."

"The store..." He paused, concentrating. Strange, he didn't usually have trouble remembering these things, but it must have just been his headache. "The store clerk stood and... stared at me in stupor."

"I would too after what I've seen," one kid muttered, only to be shushed by another.

His heart gave a pained jolt. "Wh-what?"

"Nothing!"

He didn't like the way they were talking—it reminded him of... something else. Someone else. Another child stepped closer to him, looking down at him with a furrowed brow and frightened eyes. He felt the sudden urge to scoot away.

You're in danger.

---

"Wh...where am I supposed to go?"

"Just in through these doors."

"Okay... Why do I have to come back here to the doctor, though? I feel fine."

"Nevermind that. Do you remember what your father told you to do?"

"Yeah! The fun phrases. I know a million of those!"

"Good."

"Would you like to hear... w-wait, who are all these people watching? Wh... what are those?"

---

The fish were swimming in circles and starting to make him dizzy. He rested his head down in the cool grass, but it did little to help. "Oh... sorry. I'm not feeling so good. I should be going home..."

"You can go home soon. Tell us another first."

"Ugh... My mom... m-my... mother makes a... marvelous... meat... mincemeat pie." Recalling these phrases was starting to feel like what he imagined pulling teeth felt like, but a lot less fun. Was his mother missing him now? How long had he been gone? "I... really need to go home now."

"No you don't."

His eyes shot open, and he shivered as he stared down at the fish. "Wh... what did you... say?"

"Don't try to move. You'll be all right."

All of the fish watched him eagerly... but the turtle was still waving its front feet even more frantically.

---

"Don't worry about that."

"N-no! I know what those tools are—I've read my dad's books. You're gonna hurt me!"

"Nonsense. Just lay on the bed and you'll be fine."

"No, I don't want to! You can't make me!"

---

The ship heaved up and down with the swell of the waves. His insides rolled with it, and he remained lying on the coil of rope, waiting for his stomach to stop lurching and his head to stop aching.

"You stopped. Keep going."

"Ugh... The newt... nuzzled in a... n-narrow... nook."

"Good."

"No, it's not, Crackers! I don't feel good..."

"You're fine, squawk! Try to distract yourself."

"Okay..." Opening one eye, he raised a shaky hand, lifting the end of the rope and making it snake through the air, though it shuddered all the while. It was a lot more difficult than usual... Normally he could lift several objects at once, and delighted the crew by juggling them. He felt like he should be able to do other things too, but what?

---

"Oh mercy! He's going to kill someone!"

"Caligosto, if you don't stop this at once, I will call your father!"

"So call him! I want him here! Why didn't he come with me?!"

"Oh no, he's trying to light the chair on fire—"

"Go get the earmuffs, now."

"MOM! DAD! WHERE ARE YOU?!"

"GET THEM NOW!"

---

The sun was covered in clouds, and the humid air brought a promise of rain. Why were the other kids still here? Surely their parents would have called them home by now. He wished they would. Surely his mom would have called him, too, wouldn't she?

"Tell us another," one girl asked urgently, taking a hesitant step forward.

His head was swimming. "I-I don't wanna..."

"Tell us now."

Focusing, he managed to force his mind to concentrate. "She sniffed... and s-smelled... the stirring storm."

"Good, tell us another," one fish bubbled from the water.

A sharp pain like a broken tooth filled his skull, his insides felt sick, and the rain was beginning to fall. "I... I can't..."

"Tell us, Caligosto."

"B... Bernie read a book... b-by the... ba—babbling brook." He wanted to wipe the rain from his face, but he felt too exhausted to move his arms. "C-can I go... home..."

"Squawk! We're not to shore yet. Give me another."

He stared up at the blurred vision of the bird. "Why...?"

"Do as you're told."

"Th-the... hummingbirds... hovered... a-and hummed in... heavenly..." His voice broke off into a choked sob. "I wanna... no... I wanna... go home..."

"Caligosto?"

---

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

"Get it on him, get it on—"

"GET AWAY FROM ME!"

"Where did he go?!"

"The monster's turned invisible!"

"I WANNA GO HOME!"

"There! Put it on right—there!"

"STOP, I WANNA—"

---

"...go home!"

He blinked.

"You are home, Cali," his mother said, beaming down at him with a wide, pearly-white grin.

"I am?" Blinking again, he looked around. Indeed, he was in front of his house, with his parents both standing on the front porch, as they had been when he'd left. On top of that, his head didn't hurt and he didn't feel sick. "I... I am!"

"You're all done with the doctors now," his father said, smiling. "We're so proud of you!"

"You... you are?" He stared open-mouthed; his father had never told him that before. "I'm all done?"

"Yes you are, dear." His mother knelt down, but he didn't come closer—something was making his hair stand on end. "Almost."

His stomach twisted.

"Just tell us another, son."

"N... no..."

The smile on his father's face faded. "Do as you're told, Caligosto."

"N-no... no, no..." He tried to shake his head, but couldn't. "I... I want to go home..."

The pain was coming back, spiking through his head, and he cried out.

"We're going to lose him—"

"No, just a little more."

"No," he sobbed. "No, no! Mom! Dad!"

The park was flooding. The fish were swirling around his head. Waves crashed over the boat.

He had to do something. Anything.

Focusing with everything he had left, he tried to think, tried to move something, tried to make something burn, tried to call for help—

Did—did you hear that?

Cali?

The agony peaked, and his vision turned orange.

---

"Ooooh... ugh..."

"Is this safe?"

"It's safe for us. The psilirium will keep him under control during the procedure."

"But can he still hear us?"

"Son, can you tell us one of your funny phrases?"

"Sure... grass grows greener in the graveyard."

"You see? He'll be fine."

---

There was no park.

There was no pond.

There was no ocean.

There were several doctors staring down at him, a great many more people seated in the theater behind them, and an empty feeling within him.

Something was gone. Something important.

"How do you feel, Caligosto?"

His brain was slow to work, and he could not form the words, but if he could have, he would have answered:

Like... a cavity.

#dr loboto #loboto #caligosto loboto #psychonauts #my art #my writing #fanfic #who let me in this fandom

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thelastspeecher · 3 years

Text

Amphibious Tendencies - Chapter 5: Calotriton arnoldi

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10 AO3

I’m very excited about this chapter, there’s a lot of stuff in it. Also, it’s the first chapter to not contain ficlets that I’d posted before. So, all original material. Shout-out to @vulpixen, who developed the version of Wendy’s mom that I used, and also came up with the idea of Jimmy Snakes having...well, you’ll see.

—

Summary: Three-ish years after the events of Chapter 4, Stan, Angie, and their son have settled into a happy life. But troubling things are on the horizon...

The Montseny brook newt (Calotriton arnoldi) is a strictly aquatic species, not even venturing onto land to breed.

——————————————————————————————

“Dada!” Stan grinned broadly at Junior, toddling over to him with a worm in his tiny hands.

“Whatcha got there, sport?” he gushed. Junior held the worm up.

“Snack!”

“A snack, huh?” Stan asked. Junior nodded. Stan ruffled his son’s thick, caramel-colored curls. “And where’d you get it?”

“There.” Junior pointed to the container of bait they’d brought on the fishing trip. Tate, still waiting patiently for a fish to bite, groaned loudly.

“That’s where the bait keeps disappearin’ to!” he whined. Guilt suddenly weighed on Stan’s shoulders. He lifted Junior into his lap.

“Good work finding a snack, Junior, but no more, okay? Those worms aren’t snacking worms, they’re fishing worms,” he said patiently. Junior nodded obediently, then swallowed the worm whole. He burped loudly. Stan couldn’t help but chuckle.

“There’s no fish ‘round here,” Tate muttered.

“Want me to move the boat somewhere else, fishing buddy?” Stan asked. Tate shrugged. Stan stifled a sigh. He’d been thrilled when Tate started to call Ford his dad, something that Stan couldn’t help but feel might be true in more ways than one. Recently, though, Ford and Fiddleford had been too busy with their research to spend time with Tate. So, Stan stepped up, trying to keep Tate from noticing. But today was the fifth day in a row of taking a fishing trip.

He’s a smart kid. If he hasn’t noticed yet, he will soon.

“Mama!” Junior shrieked suddenly. Stan looked over. Angie had surfaced by the side of the boat. She smiled fondly at Stan, Junior, and Tate.

“My boys all in one place,” she cooed. Junior whined loudly at her. She stroked his hair, eliciting giggles from him. “Why are you wearing a life jacket?” she asked Stan.

“Safety first.”

“Darling, you can’t drown. Neither can Junior, who is also wearing a life jacket for some reason.”

“Tate’s gotta wear a life jacket. Figured I’d make it fair,” Stan said with a shrug. Angie chuckled softly.

“Good point.” She looked at Tate. “How’s the fishing, Tater Tot?”

“I think you might be the reason there aren’t any fish ‘round here, Auntie Angie,” Tate said glumly.

“Oh, sorry! I’ll get back to what I was doing. Want me to scare some fish in your direction?” Angie asked. Tate shrugged. Angie sighed softly. She swam over to be by Tate. “Honey, are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

“Sweetling…”

“I’m just kinda sad my pa and dad don’t do anything with me anymore,” Tate mumbled finally. “I know they’re busy with work and that junk, but it’s still not that great.”

“You’re right, it stinks,” Stan confirmed. Tate looked over at him in surprise. “I’m not gonna lie to you, kid. Being ignored by your parents? It stinks. But you’ve got me and Angie and Junior. We’ll pick up anything your dads drop, okay?” Tate managed a small smile.

“Okay, Uncle Stan.”

“Good. Ang, you should get back to work and let us men catch some fish,” Stan said, winking at Angie. She rolled her eyes, then dipped below the water’s surface again. “Seriously, Tate, if you ever need to talk…”

“Auntie Angie says you’re not great at talking ‘bout things.”

“I’m better than Ford,” Stan said. Tate snickered.

“Yeah, I s’ppose ya are.” The line on his fishing pole suddenly tautened. He let out a low whoop. “Finally! It’s about time I got a bite.”

-----

Stan carefully set Junior into his designated sleeping pool. Fast asleep and in nixie form, Junior sunk to the bottom.

Eh, he’ll be fine. He’s got gills.

“Stan?” Stan looked over his shoulder. Angie stood near the cave entrance. He held a finger to his mouth.

“I just got Junior down for his nap, be quiet,” he whispered. Angie gestured for him to come to her. Stan stood and walked over. “What’s going on?”

“Well…” Angie cocked her head, clearly trying to decide how to explain whatever she was up to. ��Remember how I caught ya teachin’ Junior to steal the other day?”

“Yeah.”

“And ya somehow convinced me that he should know things like that?” Angie added. Stan grinned.

“Yeah.” Stan blinked. “Wait, did he steal something?”

“No. I did.”

“You what?!” Stan yelped in shock. Angie punched his shoulder.

“Don’t wake Junior up!” she hissed. Stan rubbed his shoulder ruefully.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah.” He lowered his voice even further. “What did you steal?” Angie tilted her head one way, then the other.

“I didn’t steal a ‘what’. I stole a ‘who’.”

“You stole someone?”

“I had to.”

“Fucking-” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Okay. Take me to the person you stole.” Angie nodded. She led Stan outside, into the hidden glen that housed the second entrance to the caves. Stan frowned at the pet carrier sitting on the ground. “You stole a pet?”

“Technically, no, I didn’t.” Angie walked to the carrier and crouched down. She opened it. “Come out, Jonah, it’s okay.” She stood and turned around. Stan took a step back.

“What the fuck is that?!” he demanded, gesturing at the creature in Angie’s arms. Angie stroked the creature tenderly. “It looks like you used one of those size-changing crystals on a maggot, Ang.”

“Don’t be so rude,” Angie hissed. She scratched the top of the creature’s head. The creature closed its eyes, chirping happily. “He’s an interplanetary refugee.”

“And what does that mean?”

“Do ya know about the crashed spaceship?”

“Duh. When Ford first found it, he didn’t shut up about it for over a month.”

“Stanford found an egg at the site. It hatched into this lil feller.”

“That thing is an alien?”

“Yes.”

“And you took it from Ford?”

“Him,” Angie corrected. “But, yes, I took him from Stanford.”

“Why?”

“He’s just a baby!” Angie burst out. “He’s just a baby, and they were experimentin’ on him! Studyin’ him like- like some sort of animal!”

“But…he is an animal,” Stan said slowly. Angie closed her eyes.

“Remember how upset ya got when Stanford wanted to study Junior’s egg? Even though we both gave him permission, ya hovered ‘round like a mother hen any time yer brother so much as touched the egg.”

“…Yeah. I remember,” Stan said. Angie opened her eyes again.

“Can ya please spare some similar emotions fer this poor lil feller?” she asked. “He hatched on a different planet, all alone, only to be tested on and studied by the person what saw him hatch, the closest thing he had to a father.” An uncomfortable feeling began to grow in Stan’s stomach. “Stanley. They were keepin’ him in a cage.” Stan swallowed.

“Okay. I get it now. Goddamn.” Stan ran a hand through his hair. “How did you find out about this?”

“Stanford wanted my biologist’s opinion on him. I tried to explain to him why what he was doin’ was wrong, but he wouldn’t listen. So’s I did the only thing I could think of doin’.”

“That’s gonna make Ford know you took him. By now, you should realize that you can’t get through to my brother.”

“I made it look like Jonah broke out of his cage.”

“That might give us some time, but- wait, Jonah?”

“I gave him a name.”

“You named him Jonah.”

“‘Cause he’s a fish out of water,” Angie explained. Stan fought back a smile.

“All right, I’ll admit, that’s cute. But we can’t keep him, Ang. You making it look like Jonah broke out is gonna give us some time, but Ford’s gonna eventually come here, either because he thinks you took him or because he thinks you can help track him down.”

“I know,” Angie said softly. She grimaced. “I also don’t know if Jonah would be safe to have ‘round Junior. I think his species might eat amphibians.”

“Why?”

“I first approached him in frog form and he tried to eat my fingers. In human form, though, he hasn’t done so much as a nibble.” Angie beamed. “Don’t worry, I’ve got a plan. Someone owes me a favor.”

-----

Stan parked the Stanleymobile. He looked at the small cabin Angie had directed him to.

“Who lives here?” he asked.

“The Corduroys.”

“Dan and Beth?”

“Yep.”

“What makes you think they’ll take Jonah?”

“Beth owes me a favor,” Angie said, getting out of the car, Jonah’s pet carrier in hand. “Not to mention, Dan’s a sucker fer kids.”

“Yeah, kids. Not aliens that look like bugs.”

“I’ve got a solution fer that, too,” Angie said breezily. Stan got out of the car and followed her to the front door.

“You really planned this all out, huh?”

“When ya taught Junior how to steal, ya told him that a necessary part of a theft is knowin’ what to do with what ya take.” Angie knocked on the front door. After a few moments, the door opened, revealing Dan Corduroy’s wife, Bethany. “Howdy, Beth.”

“Angie!” Bethany threw her arms around Angie happily. “How are you?”

“All right.”

“Good, good.” Bethany smiled at Stan. “What about you, Stan?” Stan shrugged.

“A lake monster is babysitting my kid right now,” he said. At some point, Bethany and Dan had been told his family’s amphibious secret. He wasn’t sure when or how, but Angie trusted the Corduroys, and he’d always been a fan of Dan.

Of the weirdos in town, Dan and Beth are the best to know my wife, kid, and I are all frog-people.

“Huh?” Bethany asked.

“Spur-of-the-moment need,” Angie said, waving a hand airily. “Remember that favor ya owe me?”

“How could I forget?”

“I’m cashin’ it in.” Angie patted Jonah’s pet carrier. “My brother ‘n brother-in-law were doin’ some unethical things again.” Bethany leaned against the doorjamb, her arms crossed.

“Why am I not surprised?” she asked idly. She blew a strand of red hair out of her face. “What was it this time?”

“Experimentin’ on a sentient bein’.”

“That’s no good.”

“No, it ain’t.” Angie took a deep breath. “Would you and Dan be willin’ to take the lil feller in?”

“Maybe? I’ll get Dan.” Bethany looked over her shoulder. “Dan! It’s Angie and Stan, they’re cashing in that favor!” Thunderous footsteps sounded. There was a loud crash.

“Ouch!”

“Good thing he’s a carpenter,” Bethany muttered, rolling her eyes. After more crashes and thumps, Dan finally appeared behind his wife, the only person he didn’t tower over.

“Angie, Stan,” Dan rumbled. Stan nodded. “WHAT’S going on?”

“I rescued someone. You ‘n Beth ‘re the only people I trust to take care of him,” Angie said. Relief settled over Stan that Angie was getting straight to the point. Dan didn’t like it when people beat around the bush.

“He’s in THAT thing?” Dan asked, looking at the pet carrier. Angie nodded. “Kinda SHRIMPY, then.”

“He’s a baby,” Angie said. “Here, I’ll show ya.” She opened the carrier door. Promptly, Jonah crawled up the door, to the top of the carrier, and up Angie’s arm before settling on her shoulder.

“What IS that?!” Dan shouted. Angie and Stan winced at the volume, but Bethany didn’t bat an eye.

“Inside voice, Dan.” Bethany leaned in, peering closely at Jonah. “But seriously, what is it?”

“He’s an alien.”

“Angie, I know I owe you a big favor, but raising an alien is a bit much,” Bethany said, not unkindly. Dan nodded.

“I’m NOT a FAN of the weird things around HERE.”

“I understand. But Jonah doesn’t have to stick out,” Angie said smoothly. Stan raised an eyebrow at her. Bethany and Dan seemed similarly doubtful. “Do you have any baby pictures of Dan?”

“Yes.”

“Could ya grab one?”

“Uh, sure.” Bethany disappeared inside, leaving Dan alone with Stan, Angie, and the alien. Dan squinted at Jonah.

“Weird-looking THING.”

“Only right now,” Angie said cryptically. Dan frowned at her. He opened his mouth, but before he could say anything, Bethany returned. She handed a photo to Angie. “Thank you. Stan, please take Jonah.” Stan took Jonah from Angie, resting the alien in his arms. Angie held the picture up to Jonah. “Jonah, can ya do this?” she asked. Stan blinked, and suddenly a large, red-haired infant was in his arms.

“What the hell?!” Stan yelped, almost dropping Jonah in shock. Dan reared back, wide-eyed. Bethany, however, leaned in, interested.

“How’d he do that?” she asked.

“Jonah’s species are shapeshifters. If ya ask him to take a specific form, he can do it. Right now, he needs a frame of reference to mimic, but I figure as he gets older, he can come up with his own forms.” Angie smiled. “As ya can see, Jonah can fit in real easy with humans. Ya won’t have any idea he ain’t a reg’lar lil tot.”

“I guess…” Bethany said slowly. She sighed. “This makes your request a bit better, but it’s still not that great.”

“If ya find ya can’t handle him, I’ll take him back and find someone else. But I know you two are good people. You’d raise him right,” Angie said. Bethany and Dan looked at each other.

“What do you think?” Bethany asked. Dan looked at Jonah in Stan’s arms.

“HAND the kid OVER,” he rumbled. Stan gladly gave Jonah to Dan. “Hmm.” Dan looked at Angie. “He won’t EAT us, WILL he?”

“No. He had a million opportunities to try to eat human flesh, but didn’t.” Angie tilted her head. “Amphibious flesh, though, he seemed to find awfully tasty.” Bethany grimaced.

“I get why you can’t take care of him, then.”

“Yeah.”

“Well…” Bethany took a deep breath. “I think I’m fine watching him, at least on a trial basis. Dan?” Dan nodded.

“We can TRY.”

“Thank you,” Angie gushed. Tension left her shoulders. “Ya have no idea how relieved that makes me. I was so worried fer his safety.”

“We’ll keep him safe,” Bethany promised. Angie embraced her. She looked at Jonah, still nestled in Dan’s enormous arms. “What was his name again?”

“Jonah.”

“Jonah.” Bethany smiled. “I like it.”

“What about GUS?” Dan rumbled. Bethany chuckled.

“That’s what we can name the next alien Angie brings us.”

“We should get back before the babysitter tries to teach Junior how to capsize boats again,” Stan said, looking at his watch. Angie nodded.

“Thanks again, you two,” she said to Beth and Dan. She embraced Bethany. “I’ll come back tomorrow to check on ya, okay?”

“Sounds good,” Bethany said. She and Dan stepped inside, closing the door behind them. Angie and Stan went back to the car.

“That went way better than I thought it would,” Stan confessed.

“I figured they would agree to help,” Angie said with a shrug. “Dan’s a big softie.” She stood on her tiptoes to kiss Stan on the cheek. “Just like you.”

-----

“Dada,” Junior whined from his car seat. Stan groaned loudly. He hadn’t had any coffee yet, and as a result, already had a throbbing headache. Being whined at was only making it worse. He took a steadying breath.

You love your son more than anything else in the world, remember? Stan forced a smile and looked in the rearview mirror at Junior.

“What is it, kiddo?”

“Wanna pway.”

“Don’t worry, we will. After we pick up your cousin and drop him off with your Ma. Okay?”

“Okay,” Junior mumbled. “Why Tate with Mama?”

“Well, he’s getting a bit sick of fishing all the time, so your Ma offered to have him shadow her at work.”

“Sadow?”

“Follow her around and watch what she does.”

“…Mmkay.” Junior lapsed back into silence. Stan sighed and focused on driving again. Not long after Junior hatched, Tate had made a comment about Lake Gravity Falls needing someone to protect it. That comment had somehow spiraled into Angie creating a Lake Ranger program, something the citizens of Gravity Falls had happily embraced.

They would probably have a different opinion if they knew Angie was doing more than keeping the fish healthy. Angie kept it secret, but she was also keeping an eye on the magical and supernatural aspects of the lake, which had won a lot of points with the magical creature community. And we need all the points we can get. They’re not exactly thrilled by our connection to the resident mad scientist. They finally pulled up to the cabin.

“Bike, Dada!” Junior squealed happily. Stan followed where Junior was pointing. His blood ran cold. He’d know that custom Harley-Davidson anywhere.

Well, shit. Stan turned off the car, trying to steel himself. No use in putting it off, Stan. He’s here, you’ve gotta find out why and send him packing.

“Dada, out!” Junior whined.

“Yeah, yeah, sport, we’re gonna get out,” Stan said. He got out of the car and removed Junior from his car seat. With his son in his arms and his heart in his throat, Stan walked up to the cabin’s front door. He knocked. Promptly, the door swung open, revealing the mustached face he’d dreaded.

“Jimmy,” Stan said shortly. Jimmy Snakes grinned.

“Kitten,” he drawled, leaning against the doorjamb.

“Meow!” Junior piped up helpfully. “Meow!”

“Heh.” Jimmy smiled at Junior. “Cute kid. He yours?”

“Yes, he is.”

“Then your brother wasn’t lying to me.” Jimmy cocked his head. “I’m glad you finally got back from your walk with the kid. Your brother ain’t good conversation.” Stan mentally filed away the fact that Ford had claimed he still lived at the cabin.

“What do you want?” Stan asked. Jimmy huffed.

“Can’t a guy show up to surprise an old flame?”

“I’m married.”

“Doesn’t mean we can’t-”

“Jimmy.”

“Fine.” Jimmy held his hands up. “I only stopped by ‘cause I was already in town.”

“Why are you in town?”

“I switched careers,” Jimmy said lazily. “Got sick of being at someone else’s beck and call. Now, I hunt big game.”

“What, like deer?”

“Sorta.” Jimmy grinned evilly. “But…rarer. More unique. And I heard that Gravity Falls has plenty of that.”

“Weirdest big thing I’ve seen around here is a moose.”

“Really?” Jimmy lowered his distinctive sunglasses. “Your brother seems to think that there are some things around here that are a helluva lot more interesting.”

Dammit, Ford, what did you tell him?

“If there are, I haven’t seen any of it,” Stan said with a shrug. “Now, leave.” Jimmy let out a low whistle.

“You’re gonna toss me out just like that, kitten?”

“Yes, I am.” Stan glowered. “And don’t call me kitten.”

“If you insist.” With his usual devil-may-care attitude, Jimmy walked back to his bike. “If you change your mind, I’m at the motel. Unit 16.” He started his bike. Junior patted Stan’s face.

“Meow, Dada.”

“Yeah.” Stan watched Jimmy drive away. “Meow.”

-----

Stan’s headache from that morning had returned with a vengeance. Junior squirmed in his arms, wailing at the top of his lungs.

Really shoulda put him down for his nap sooner. But Stan had been avoiding going home, worried that Jimmy might follow and realize Stan and his family were the “big game” he had been looking for. He couldn’t delay it any longer, though. Junior had reached his breaking point and needed to sleep in nixie form.

“We’re home, sport,” Stan said as he walked into the cave. Junior promptly turned into his nixie form. “Junior, you can’t do that with your clothes on.” Junior continued to writhe furiously, but now, he was slippery. “Fine!” Stan deposited Junior into his sleeping pool. “Sleep in your clothes.”

“Night, Dada,” Junior said, then ducked underwater, curling up into a ball at the bottom of the pool. Stan rubbed his temples.

“Ang, do we have any aspirin?” he called. His voice echoed in the cave. There was no response. “Angie?”

She should be home by now… Out of the corner of his eye, Stan saw movement. He turned his head. Tate emerged from behind a large boulder.

“Tate?”

“Uncle Stan, I’m sorry!” Tate burst out. He ran over to Stan and wrapped his arms tightly around his uncle’s torso. “I’m so sorry, I couldn’t do anything!”

“Hey, hey, calm down,” Stan said, stroking Tate’s hair. “What are you talking about? What happened?”

“Some- some man came in and he took- he took Auntie Angie!” Tate sobbed. Stan’s blood ran cold. “We- we came back here for lunch, and Auntie Angie heard some noise, so she told me to hide. And I didn’t- I didn’t do anything, I just watched him take her!”

“You’re just a kid,” Stan said, forcing himself to seem calm despite the terror churning in his stomach. “You couldn’t have done anything. Hiding was the right move for you.”

“But- but-”

“What did the man look like? The one that took your aunt?” Stan asked. Tate broke off the hug. He wiped his arm across his face, sniffling loudly.

“He was- he was blond. And he had a mustache, and a leather jacket, and-”

“Sunglasses.”

“Y-yeah.” Tate looked up at Stan. “Do you know who took her?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“So you can go after him, then?”

“Yeah. Your dads and I will go find him and get your aunt back.” Stan looked at Junior, fast asleep in his pool. “…Right after I ask the Gobblewonker to babysit your cousin.” Junior nodded.

“They’ll- they’ll help?” he asked timidly. “Dad and Pa, they’ve been a bit…difficult to talk to lately.” Stan smiled.

“Of course they’ll help.”

-----

“Stanley, I don’t have time to help you.”

“Don’t have time to help?!” Stan stared at Ford. “She’s your sister-in-law!” Ford didn’t even look up from the blueprints he was poring over.

“And she’s very capable of taking care of herself. Remember how she befriended the lake monster?”

“You mean the Gobblewonker.”

“Yes, yes.” Ford squinted at something on the blueprints. “I recall that Angie also handled herself very well against a poacher.”

“That’s different. She had her gun. Also, she wasn’t already kidnapped!” There was no response from Ford. “Really?! Stanford, I thought you gave a damn about my family!” Ford sighed. He finally looked up at Stan.

“I do, Stanley. Sincerely. However, I know that you are more than able to stage the rescue mission on your own. Should you be unable to for some reason, I can assist. For now, though, I must decline.” Ford jabbed the blueprints with a finger. “I’m at a crucial phase in my research!”

“Fine!” Stan threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Fine! Where’s Fiddleford? He’ll help rescue his sister.” Ford grimaced. “What?”

“I don’t know if that’s the wisest move,” Ford said in an undertone. “F has been very forgetful and disoriented as of late. He’d be more of a hindrance than a help.”

“Wait, what?”

“He keeps misplacing things and forgetting about tasks. In fact, the other day, he accidentally left Tate at the supermarket.”

“He-!” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about it?”

“Tate didn’t tell you?”

“No!” Stan kneaded his forehead. “Son of a- I can’t deal with this right now, I have to rescue my wife!” He glared at Ford. “The second Angie’s safe, I’m gonna have to talk to you. You and Fiddleford.”

“Very well.” Ford returned his attention to the blueprints.

Stan stormed out of the cabin, nearly blinded by his rage. He could feel a prickly sensation spreading over his skin. His anger was strong enough that he was beginning to slip into nixie mode. He took a deep breath. The prickling stopped.

Can’t be a frog right now. Gotta be human. Stan wrenched the door of the Stanleymobile open and sat in the driver’s seat. Okay. Think, Stan. Think! He rested his forehead on the steering wheel. You can’t take her back on your own. You’ll need some more muscle. His eyes widened.

Muscle. That’s it!

-----

Dan tore down the door of Unit 16 at the Gravity Falls Motel. Stan stepped inside.

“Thanks, Dan,” he said, remembering the manners that Angie had drilled into him.

“No PROBLEM,” Dan rumbled. He clapped a hand on Stan’s shoulder. “I OWE Angie for bringing us JONAH.”

“I’m just glad that you and Beth liked the kid enough to keep him.” Stan looked around. “Now, where is-” The door to the bathroom slammed open. Jimmy stormed into the living room.

“What the actual hell, Stan?” he screamed. Stan crossed his arms. “I didn’t realize you were this fucking bitter about me breaking up with you!” Stan ignored the startled look from Dan.

“I’m not here because of our relationship,” he ground out. “I’m here for my wife.”

“Your…?” Jimmy seemed genuinely taken aback. “Your wife?”

“Yes, my wife! The woman I married! Ever heard of one?” Stan demanded, stepping forward.

“I- I don’t know what your wife looks like,” Jimmy said. “I don’t even know her name.”

“That didn’t stop you from taking her! My nephew saw it happen!”

“Look, Stan, I don’t even traffic pugs anymore. You really think I’d kidnap someone?”

“No. But I think you’d kidnap someone you didn’t think was a person.”

“What?” Jimmy asked. Stan marched up to him.

“Where. Is. The. Nixie.”

“The nixie?” Realization dawned over Jimmy. “Your wife is the nixie?” Stan nodded. “Why the hell would you marry a frog?”

“Because I love her, dumbass,” Stan snapped. “I’m not gonna repeat myself anymore. Where. Is. She.” Behind him, he could hear Dan cracking his knuckles. Jimmy turned pale.

“She’s in the bathroom,” he said quietly. Stan ran to the bathroom door and tore it off the hinges in his hurry to open it. Angie was in the bathtub, hogtied and gagged. Her eyes widened at the sight of him.

“Angie!” Stan sprinted to her. He pulled out her gag and untied her. She threw her arms around him, planting her lips on his in a deep kiss.

“Thank you,” Angie whispered once she finally pulled away. Stan smiled at her.

“No need for that, babe. You’re my wife. I’m supposed to rescue you if you get kidnapped.” Angie managed a small smile. “Did he hurt you?”

“No. He even kept me in water.” Angie nodded at the bathtub, which was partially filled. “I guess the person who hired him to get me wanted me in top-notch condition.” Chills ran down Stan’s spine.

“He kidnapped you because someone wanted you?” he asked quietly. Angie nodded. “Shit.” Stan took a breath. “I’ve gotta figure out who hired him.”

“Agreed,” Angie said. Stan helped her out of the tub, then led her out of the bathroom. To his pleasure, Dan had cornered Jimmy, who looked scared out of his mind. “Oh, Dan, you’re here?”

“Of COURSE!” Dan said. Angie smiled.

“It’s so sweet of you to help.” She looked at Stan. “I assume our brothers are watching the kids?”

“Uh…” Stan rubbed the back of his neck. “Not- not- I’ll talk to you about it later, okay? Right now, we need Jimmy to tell us who hired him.” Jimmy let out a bark of laughter.

“Ha! Fat chance! I ain’t no snitch. And I don’t care how many mountain-sized lumberjacks you send after me.” Stan took a step forward, but Angie put a hand on his shoulder.

“Dear, you catch more flies with honey than vinegar,” she said mildly. Stan couldn’t help but admire her steadfast calm. Angie looked at Jimmy. “So, Jimmy-” She was abruptly interrupted by a baby’s cry. “Um.”

“Is there a baby here?” Stan asked, looking around. His eyes landed on a crib by the bed. “Holy shit, there is!” He whipped his head around to stare at Jimmy. “Did you steal a baby?”

“What? No!” Jimmy glared at him. “Maurice is my kid, okay? His mom dropped him on me and bounced.”

“And you kept him?”

“I grew up in the system. I don’t want my kid to have to deal with that, too.”

“Right,” Stan said quietly. “You told me that before.” The gears in his head began to turn. He met Jimmy’s eyes squarely. “Jimmy. You’re a dad.”

“Yeah.”

“So am I.”

“I know. I saw your kid.”

“You’ve also seen my wife,” Stan said, gesturing to Angie. “You can probably guess that my kid isn’t as human as he looks.” Angie eyed him doubtfully. He grabbed her hand and squeezed in what he hoped was a reassuring manner. “As Junior’s dad, I’m supposed to keep him safe. But with him not being human, it can be a bit tough. Y’know?”

“Yeah,” Jimmy mumbled.

“C’mon, man.” Stan let go of Angie’s hand and walked up to Jimmy. “The guy who hired you to go after Angie, he’ll go after my kid, too. I can’t let that happen. I have to protect him. Dad to dad. Tell me who hired you.”

“I…” Jimmy wavered. Finally, he sighed. “All right. His name is Bill.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s all the information I’ve got on him,” Jimmy said with a shrug. “I can’t tell you anything else.”

“We appreciate it all the same,” Angie said, joining Stan. Jimmy grunted wordlessly. “And if you ever need a babysitter…”

“Heh.” Jimmy managed a small smile. “I’m not a big fan of frogs. And even if I was, I’m not planning on sticking around in this town. Especially since I can’t get Bill what he wanted.”

“Jimmy, I really do appreciate it,” Stan said quietly.

“It was more for old time’s sake than anything else,” Jimmy said breezily. “Now, kitten, you, your wife, and your mountain better leave. I’ve gotta take care of my kid. I don’t like to leave him crying too long.” Stan nodded. He, Angie, and Dan left, Dan carefully putting the door back on its hinges on their way out.

Once they were in the parking lot, Angie turned to Stan. She put her hands on her hips.

“What?” Stan asked.

“Kitten?” Angie asked. Dan nodded.

“I’M a bit CURIOUS about that, TOO.” Stan sighed.

“I don’t want to talk about it.”

-----

Angie sighed as she hung up Junior’s sopping clothes to dry.

“Why didn’t you take his clothes off before he went in the water?” she asked. When they had gotten back, Junior was awake and hungry for dinner. They hadn’t been able to talk about the day until after he’d fallen asleep for the night.

“You know how he gets when he’s overtired and needs to turn frog,” Stan said. He was in nixie form, sitting on the edge of the sleeping pool he and Angie shared, Junior curled up in his lap. After everything that had happened that day, he didn’t want his son to leave his sight. “I was just glad that he stayed human until we got home.”

“Mm. Fair enough.” Angie turned around to face him. She put her hands on her hips. “Now. Care to explain why our brothers didn’t join the rescue mission? I feel like Fidds at least should have been chomping at the bit.”

“Yeah…about that…” Stan grimaced. “Ford said that Fiddleford’s been pretty absent-minded lately. Apparently, he forgot Tate at the store the other day.”

“What?!” Angie walked over to Stan. She sat next to him. “He forgot his son?” Stan nodded. “Why didn’t Tate tell us?”

“Kids don’t always want to tell people about their parents fucking up. Your parents are supposed to be the experts. It stinks when you find out they aren’t.”

“I suppose so,” Angie said softly. She kneaded her forehead. “What about Stanford? What was he doing while his son was hiding in our home?”

“Working on his research.”

“Research,” Angie spat. “Like research should take priority over your family.” She shook her head. “Something’s hinky about all this, Stanley.”

“I know.”

“I don’t like to use this phrase, but…” Angie chewed on her lip. “I think we might need to stage some sort of intervention.” Stan nodded.

“I think you’re right. We’ll go over tomorrow to talk to them.”

“Good. It sounds like it’s overdue.”

“Yeah.”

“There’s supposed to be frost again tomorrow morning. Mind checking the heaters?”

“No problem.” Stan handed Junior over to Angie, then stood. He walked to each pool, checking on the heaters Fiddleford had designed to keep them from going into hibernation when it got cold enough for frost. “They’re all on.”

“Excellent.” Angie yawned. “I need some sleep.”

“Same here.” Stan rejoined Angie and both slipped into their sleeping pool. “I don’t know about you, but I sorta want Junior to sleep with us tonight.”

“Oh, I wholeheartedly agree.” Angie stroked Junior’s cheek. To Stan’s distress, he could see her hand shaking. “It’s- it’s been a rough day.”

“Yeah.” Stan put an arm around Angie’s shoulders. She leaned against him. “It has.”

-----

Long after the nixie family had fallen asleep, a figure crept into the cave. Only visible from the shadows caused by the pool heaters’ faint lights, it stepped up to the pool Stan, Angie, and Junior were sleeping in. Then, it knelt. Using a gloved hand, it opened a panel on the heater, revealing the circuit board. It cocked its head. With a casual shrug, it grabbed a fistful of wires and pulled them out.

The heater fizzled briefly before turning off. The figure silently went to each pool, giving every single heater the same treatment.

Now invisible in the complete darkness, the figure fled into the night.

#Gravity Falls #Mystery Trio AU #Nixie AU #Stanley Pines #Tate McGucket #Junior Pines #Angie McGucket #Stanford Pines #Manly Dan Corduroy #Mrs. Corduroy #The Shapeshifter #Stangie #Stangie Family #Amphibious Tendencies #fanfiction #my writing #my stuff #speecher speaks

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years

Text

Albus Dumbledore being an awesome teacher and human being

Bubblegum Bitch - MARINA

(Imma be honest with y’all, it’s mostly just him being a crackhead.)

He tells stories about Grindelwald, about their marriage and their beliefs and their lives together. All of the stories have lessons - sure, a lot of those lessons are about how NOT to make pasta, but they’re still lessons!

He likes to matchmake students using seating charts and certain magical spell assignments. He’s very good at it. I mean, he’s shit at figuring out who likes each other, but he is great at meddling, so Mcgonogall tells him who to mess with and he does as he’s told. They make a great team (and are invited to a lot of weddings). Couples they’ve helped include but are not limited to: Dean and Seamus, Luna and Ginny, Hermione and Harry and Ron, Sirius and Remus, Peter and Maxwell Needles, Peter and Regulus (that was later), Lily and Severus and James, Fred and Lee plus George and Lee, Charlie and Newt (queerplatonic), Leta and Newt (queerplatonic), Harry and Luna (queerplatonic), and Sirius and James and Remus (queerplatonic). They’ve been very busy.

He and Mcgonogall have teatime almost every day. They talk about their students and work on their matchmaking plans. There’s a lot of sass and deadpanning involved. Sometimes they invite Remus, Sirius, and James. (Not Peter. He doesn’t need the same level of torturing that they do.) Bubbles of all shapes and sizes and colors float around the room the whole time. It’s fantastic.

He accepts gossip in exchange for extra credit. He’s a really good secret keeper too, so a lot of students go for it. (It hasn’t broken any friendships. There’s an understanding among the student population that Dumbledore is like Ms. Potts from that Muggle film Beauty and the Beast - well-meaning and trustworthy, but terribly, terribly bored.)

Everything in his classroom is pink. And glittery. And covered in sequins. Once a student asked him why and he just smirked for a solid minute before whispering, “Lemonade.” (As if that makes any fucking sense.)

He once taught class in a full-fledged glittery ballgown that faded from light pink to deep purple. He did not once acknowledge it or act like anything was out of the ordinary. One student raised their hand and asked timidly, “Professor? Why are you wearing a ballgown?” And his brow furrowed as he frowned, looked down at himself, and muttered, “Thought it was a bathrobe.” (Harry does not let him live this one down. His dad is not much help - Severus took many, many pictures.) (Not that it mattered. On Wednesdays Dumbledore wears pink (glittery ballgowns).)

He speaks to kids who have parents, friends, and relatives in prison, whether for being Death Eaters or otherwise. He chaperones visits to Azkaban for them so they can see their loved ones. He casts protective and invisibility charms on them so only the one they’re visiting can see or hear them, and he teaches them Patronuses (with Remus’ help, of course). He often spends these visits on the other side of Grindelwald’s bars, playing wizard’s chess against him. (Sometimes Grindelwald gives him flowers. It always makes Dumbledore smile. There may be no one left in the world who understands why they love each other, but they don’t need to understand it for it to be true.)

He stands at the front of the classroom and makes funny faces during tests and waits to see how long it takes for a student to look up. His latest record is seven minutes.

When he’s teaching Grindelwald’s history, he makes snarky comments about his husband. They range from “I mean really. Who the fuck thought wizards ruling Muggles was a good idea?” (Rest in peace that one student who thought it was a good idea to say, “You did, Professor.”) to “Honestly, that man has no concept of romance. I ask him for a nice night out and he takes me to a Muggle rally about witchcraft and tries to impress me by playing practical magical jokes on the speaker. A toddler could do that.” (He often gets mushy during those stories though, usually trailing off like “But that time he took me to my childhood home for my birthday was sweet… brought me flowers for Ariana’s grave and everything. Sure, he killed her, but… he has a sweet side…” and from there on out he’s basically a lost cause and you might as well go to your next class because he’s not going to stop humming that fucking Elvis song).

He “loses” his glasses all the time by casting an invisibility charm on them and forces his students to search the classroom for them when they’re on his face the whole time. He thinks it’s funny. Harry does not. (But Severus and Mcgonogall do, and that’s really what matters.) (Severus and Mcgonogall and Dumbledore are a fantastic trio full of snark and sarcasm and shit, I have just decided.)

He makes little animals out of multi-colored magical dust and they fly around the classroom and perch on his favorite students’ heads. Once a dragon fell asleep on Newt’s head and wouldn’t leave even when class was over. Newt had to wait for the magic to wear off so it would disintegrate. (Of course, he had named it by that point and had a meltdown when it disappeared, so Dumbledore recreates the dragon (Robert) every class and just lets Newt coo at it, even during tests.)

He conjured and charmed two giant (I mean Egypt half-animal half-man guard statue size giant) fluffy pink teddy bears that are alive and stand on either side of him like bodyguards during class. A Slytherin student punched one in the stomach once and it vomited enough M&Ms over their head to completely bury them. The student’s partner, a Ravenclaw student, punched the other one in an ill-advised burst of illogical thought and received the same treatment, but in Skittles. (Luckily their Gryffindor aro-ace friend and nonbinary Hufflepuff friend stayed after class and ate until they could move again. Safe to say no one has dared punch the bears again.) (Though I hear they do give very good hugs. And they eat homework if you ask nicely enough!)

He has a bunch of cloaks that act as portals to realms like Merlin’s Celestiums (S.G.E., Soman Chainani). He gives one to each student for tests, and they are transported to their ideal test-taking environments, complete with whatever song they feel like listening to at any given minute playing all around them. Unsurprisingly, his students have the best grades in all of Hogwarts. (He also has a secret cloak that he uses for himself, to see Grindelwald. Grindelwald has his own matching one so he can always make it home for Thursday date night.) (They have been caught. Of course they have. But no one is going to challenge Dumbledore for his right to see his husband, even if he did marry a murderer.) (Sirius and Remus used to steal the cloak for their own dates. And later on James would steal it to take the two of them on friend-dates. Inspired by that, Dumbledore made a special cloak for Mcgonogall that he gifted her on her fiftieth birthday. The smile she gave him then is his favorite of all time.)

He bickers with Fawkes constantly. This often evolves into full-fledged screaming matches with spastic hand gestures, gratuitous spit, and angry hops on both sides. Once Dumbledore drew wand on his “useless babbling bastard of a bird”. No one has bothered to tell Dumbledore that Fawkes probably can’t understand a word of their arguments. (They do evacuate the classroom when these fights start though. The last time they stayed their hair was gone for a week, and when it grew back it was glittery and pink.) (Harry looked especially fantastic. Sirius thought he looked great. He laughed until he was in tears. Harry was not amused.) (Remus was.)

Sometimes he’s absent from class and Mcgonogall teaches them instead. When asked if he’s alright, Mcgonogall simply answers, “My partner is away on personal business for the day. Now, turn to page -” Soon enough people figured out that “personal business” meant “conjugal visit with Genocidal Maniac Husband™ in prison”. They stopped asking.

He gives all of his students the red button test (without knowing what it does, do you press the red button?). Those who pass get automatic A’s and a lollipop. Those who fail get a talking pet pygmy puff. The thing that usually trips people up is that Dumbledore considers the “correct” answer to be pressing the goddamn button. (Seamus is the only one who has ever passed (enthusiastically too!). Newt half-passed because Niffy the Niffler sat on it.) (Sirius and James would have passed too if they had not been the life partners of one Remus Lupin, whose creativity with threats and extensive curse-word vocabulary rivaled Mcgonogall’s even at the tender age of fifteen.)

He has floating war maps just lying around. He plays battleship with his students on them. What he neglects to tell them is that their moves have actual consequences in the world, as the maps are magical and reflect real battles and places. When Harry finds out (he blew up Denmark, completely unawares) he shows up at Dumbledore’s door soaking wet at five-thirty in the morning with a newspaper, his fists clenched, his face red, and his chest heaving. He wouldn’t stop glaring for weeks. (Alas, Dumbledore’s glorious beard has great resistance to fire spells.) (Following an incident involving the original four Marauders in their third year. Shhh… we do not speak of that.)

He has a habit of walking into random classrooms, gesturing for a student to come with him with his finger, and then taking them to his office for teatime. He usually asks them inane questions about a specific theme (fish, pasta strainers, socks, throw pillows, mooses, etc.) for hours until finally dismissing them. It drives Mcgonogall crazy. (She’s yelled at him plenty for “kidnapping students to ask them questions you know you could easily find on that Muggle infer-het thing! They have exams, Albus -” but he just smiles at her while calmly sipping his tea and she always ends up collapsing in the chair across from him with a sigh, taking the tea from his hands and chugging it before wiping her mouth, slamming it down on the desk, and asking, “So. Fish. What’s up with them?” and Albus just beams.)

He spends half of his class lessons babbling on about how Merlin was gay for Arthur and Arthur was gay for Merlin, but not in long tangents. Just a bunch of random comments without context, warning, or explanation. (He mentions “poetry” a lot and waggles his eyebrows for some reason, so… what’s up with that? (Merlin BBC))

He overshares A LOT about his and Grindelwald’s lives. It’s a problem because 90% of the time it’s something sweet or innocent like “Oh, he brought me a tiger lily that bloomed open to show a gold and ruby ring nestled inside on our first anniversary. That’s how he proposed to me” and “He used to hum while he did the housework, you know? He’d stand in the middle of the house and close his eyes and just hum. Almost entire symphonies too, just waving his wand in the air like a conductor” to “This one time in bed he…” and there is NO warning. The amount of things these poor children’s ears have had to endure… (*shakes head in mock disappointment*)

He often cooks during class using wandless magic. The pots and pans heat themselves and float around in the air. Sometimes Dumbledore dances and then they start dancing too. He whistles and creates a base beat for the sizzling, popping, clanging, and other kitchen noises to follow. This usually happens during tests. Oh joy.

He leaves the windows open when it rains, but somehow nothing ever gets wet. Harry and Hermione have a theory that it’s protection charms. (Really it’s a spell Severus made up when he was drunk because he was angry that umbrellas don’t have enough room under them for three, and he’s always been the most self-sacrificial person in his marriage.)

He regularly makes bets with Mcgonogall about the students’ love lives. Not money, but little things the other doesn’t want to do or buy. Dumbledore usually has to handle the Marauders’ detentions or give up one of his teddy bear guards for Mcgonogall’s experimental enjoyments. Mcgonogall has to do something embarrassing or let him borrow one of her glittery hats. They should really stop making bets at this point; the stakes and the winners are dreadfully predictable. He always wins when the bet is on a student’s sexuality or gender and she always wins when the bet is on who a student will end up with. Nonetheless, the bets continue. So too does their grumbling amusement.

He figured out how to make a broom invisible when he and Grindelwald first fell in love, so they could be showy with each other at their Greater Good rallies. They later used it for dates, prison breaks, and daring escapes complete with kisses under the moon. Once Grindelwald went to Azkaban, Dumbledore used it to find some privacy where he could grieve. Now, he uses it to travel around his classroom and Hogwarts and trick everyone into thinking he can fly by sheer will. Only Mcgonogall knows his secret. (And Severus, but Dumbledore doesn’t know that because he told him when he was black out drunk. So.)

He lets pygmy puffs sleep in his beard. Sorry, I don’t make the rules.

He once taught class while teetering on his feet because he had somehow gotten himself tangled in Christmas lights from shoulders to ankles and couldn’t move. (Sirius wandered in and saw this, cried he was laughing so hard, and then warbled his off-key way through as many Christmas carols as he could remember for the rest of class.) (Dumbledore tried to Silencio him but just fell over trying to make the wand movement. He broke his nose. Sirius almost had a panic attack because he couldn’t breathe from how hard he was laughing. By the end of this he had curled up in a fetal position on the floor, Remus was lying down next to him and muttering jokes to him, Mcgonogall was trying to fix Dumbledore’s face, and Severus had taken over the class. Not that they got much done - James was visiting that day. And him, Sirius, and Remus all laughing about the same thing rarely leads to a quiet and calm learning environment.) (They gave him a joint present of rainbow Christmas lights for his birthday - “Happy Gay Day, Professor!” - and he was not amused.) (Grindelwald was though. So was everyone else.)

He tends to mix up holidays in his head and often decorates for the wrong one. He goes all out too. He’s kind of a disaster, and so is his classroom. It became such a problem that the Marauders actually took pity on him and made him a very big calendar with all the holidays marked on it in glitter and fake jewels and flowers. It sits behind his desk and occasionally works.) (Occasionally.)

He’s queerplatonic partners with Mcgonogall. They held a friend-wedding and forced Severus to be the flowergirl. Harry officiated, Remus was Dumbledore’s best man, Sirius was Mcgonogall’s, James wasn’t given a job cause he was crying too much, Lily was in charge of taking care of James, and Peter was the ring bearer (he only lost them TWICE and they were ring pops anyway). Mcgonogall screeches at him a lot and Dumbledore can be depressive and neglectful because he misses Grindelwald but they love each other so it works. (And they’re the prime source of advice for James, Sirius, and Remus regarding their own queerplatonic relationship, for better or for worse.)

He puts his feet up on the desk even though it’s bad for his knees. Mcgonogall told him it’s bad for his knees and he has stubbornly put them up there every class since. (His knees are killing him but he will not give in to “a paranoid, batty old witch who doesn’t know shit about what’s good for me and wouldn’t if she was hit with an Imperio and I told her -” “I’M YOUR FUCKING PARTNER, YOU BLASPHEMOUS ARROGANT BRAT OF AN OLD FART!”)

Instead of walking around his classroom, he struts. (Yes, it worsens his knees.) He does strike poses, he does make obnoxious expressions, and he does look fabulous. WORK! (Yes, that was a Hamilton reference.)

He once taught class without a face because Mcgonogall cursed him for “fucking up the alphabetical organization of my tea, you old twit. Honestly, Albus, it’s not that hard”. (How did he teach without a mouth, you ask? Easy, he used intermediate BSL (deaf students, plus Azkaban isn’t great on old men’s ears and he and Grindelwald are both gettin’ up there) and Sirius interpreted.) (Incredibly wrongly, crudely, and foul-mouth-ly, but nonetheless he interpreted.)

He has difficulty understanding the straight people in his class. He is fully accepting of everyone and wants the best for all of them, but when it comes to relationship advice, he’s shit.

Excerpt pulled from Pensieve of a conversation he had with a student who identified as female:

Dumbledore: “So your boyfriend is a dick, is what you’re saying?”

Student’s best friend: “Yes. Merlin, he’s such a dick. Would you believe he -”

Dumbledore: *looks at student and points to her best friend* “Why don’t you just date her?”

*cue red faces and sputtering*

(They did not take his advice.)

He wears bowties ALL THE TIME. If he’s not wearing a bowtie, there are bows in his hair and tying the ends of his beard together. Once he wore pigtails. It was great.

He has a habit of bursting into song randomly and performing full-blown Broadway musical numbers (yes, he can rap Guns and Ships at full speed). This usually involves all of the complex moves to be expected in a musical - dramatically climbing up the stairs while looking forlorn, leaping onto the desk and squatting as you launch into a whispered limerick, speedy costume changes - you know, the works. Sometimes Sirius and James back him up, if they’re there. Severus will take over teaching with a bored look on his face (“What are you looking at, Harry?” “Dad, there’s -” “I don’t see anything interesting happening, Harry.” *glares*) while Mcgonogall screeches at Dumbledore to “GET THE FUCK DOWN, YOU NARCISSISTIC HEATHEN!” It’s a problem.

When the Marauders challenge the dress code, Dumbledore is the first Professor to encourage it. While Sirius is perfectly confident in a skirt and Regulus isn’t far behind (neither is Severus, surprisingly), James and Remus are far more insecure. Dumbledore wears a tutu to class one day to show his support, and Remus wouldn’t stop smiling the rest of the day. (James just turned bright red and beamed when Sirius started laughing.) He also backed Lily up when she wore pants (along with Marlene, Dorcas, and Mary) by convincing Mcgonogall to wear pantsuits for a week. (Sirius, despite being a hardcore gay, was quite affected by this. Remus did not appreciate the water spit in his face and refused to kiss Sirius for a week.)

He plays Cecily Smith (Will Connolly) on the ukulele on late nights and stares out at the stars thinking of Grindelwald. Sometimes he forgets to turn off the Sonorus from earlier that day and ends up broadcasting his little song to the whole school. Sirius and Remus will dance to it in the common room while James watches his partners with a happy smile on his face (and Peter sleeps, because he’s tired and doesn’t force himself to stay up simply for the purpose of being cool or finishing that one assignment that isn’t due for another two weeks) (I’m sorry, do you feel called out?).

This man has weed brownies stashed away in his desk and he does eat them during class. He also offered one to Remus once, who is the only student that knows about the stash and tends to use marijuana for medical purposes (helping with anxiety and pain regarding the full moon, courtesy of my beautiful girlfriend who has never read nor seen Harry Potter but nonetheless insists to me that Remus Lupin is a stoner who wears red beanies). This prompted Sirius to ask for one, which Dumbledore refused, but then James joined in and they started a riot by standing on their desks and pumping their fists in the air and screaming, “BROWNIES FOR ALL!” while Remus giggled into his hand and was no help at all, so Dumbledore gave them each a brownie just to shut them up. (Sirius wouldn’t stop rambling about how pretty Remus’ eyes were, James was babbling on about unicorns, Severus was hissing at something no one else could see, Regulus was hissing at the same thing for some reason, Peter was crying because he couldn’t tell the difference between hamsters and gerbils and guinea pigs, and Lily was muttering pi under her breath until she fell asleep.) (Mcgonogall was unimpressed.) (No teatime for eight weeks. Damn.)

Dumbledore cares about all of his students, however little he shows it. He wants them to lead a better life than he did. And maybe fall in love with better people than he did.

#albus dumbledore #albus wulfric percival brian dumbledore #mcgonogall &x dumbledore #&x means queerplatonic i have just decided #grindledore #wolfstar #james &x remus &x sirius #severus & mcgonogall & dumbledore #james x lily x severus #albus dumbledore is a crackhead 2021 #i dunno please enjoy this shit #i'm really fucking tired #harry potter #have a nice day y'all

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