#adding Danny to this cus why not?

[lynnstereotypical]

Okay a list of all the batkids I know! Am I missing any??

Dick

Jason

Carrie

Tim

Stephanie

Damien

Duke

Cass

Claire

Mia (Maps)

Cullen

Harper

Barbra

[tsubaki94]

Hello! First time writing. I have a question about your comic about Danny. I was wondering why his parents can't come up with something technical to make it easier for him to move around?The same SmartDrive for better mobility of the stroller, or maybe technical brackets so that you can walk somehow.I know that their technology is not very developed now and they mostly hunt ghosts, but I was interested. Forgive me if it sounded like a complaint.

Don't worry I love talking about my comic ^^

So in the comic it's only been a little over 2 months since the accident, Maddie is still trying to find a medical reason for why Danny can't move his legs and aren't thinking along the track of inventing mobility aids or doing changes to their home to make it easier for Danny to get around apart from adding the ramp in the garage, moving Danny's room to down there and making sure the downstairs bathroom is accesable.

Jack on the other hand is thinking of all cool sorts of things he can invent for Danny. He made Danny a second motorized wheelchair with all sort of ghost hunting equipment (cus he is still a ghost hunting nerd) but Danny rejected it. Seeing that Danny made his own chair with his own preferences, Jack has moved on from making a wheelchair and is now drafting the Fenton-Ecto-Exoskeleton.

And Jazz got sidetracked from encuraging Danny to learn new skills related to his disability and is currently hooking up with her BF.

I am also considering giving Danny a way to motorize his Wheelchair either with something attachable making it more like a scooter or using the same technology as a electric bike where the engine gives you an extra push when you are pedaling. There will also be upgrades to the house so Danny can access every floor (For better or worse).

Thanks for asking I hope you'll enjoy the rest of the comic. <3

[clockwayswrites]

Orange, Mavis (Song Thrush), Danny/Dick

@wisteriavines cw: stitches

“You know, we do have people paid to do this,” Dick commented idly as he pushed the needle through Phantom’s skin.

“Yep.”

“People who are far better at it than me,” Dick added.

“You do fine.”

“They’ve got this great stuff to numb your skin—”

“’Wing,” Phantom said. Dick could tell from Phantom’s tone he was a hairs trigger away from actually snapping.

Dick sighed.

He wanted to push the mater. He always wanted to push the mater. To ask why did no one else seem to know that sometimes the wounds Phantom got carried over to this other side. To ask who even knew about this other side. To ask why Phantom trusted him above everyone else.

But he wouldn’t. Phantom and him were too much alike. They both kept too much buried under quips and grins and a devil may care attitude. Dick refused to be the one that broke Phantom’s carefully constructed damn keeping the real emotions back. It would happen and Dick worried sooner rather than later, but Dick refused to be the one who caused the break.

He would be there to help after though, just like he was always there to help patch Phantom up like this.

Dick sighed and pressed a fleeting kiss to the skin above the wound and went back to stitching it up. In out, in out… the rhythm of the needle brought an old song to mind, one his mother used to sing. He thought he half remembered the words…

“Luna și cu stealilii Să-ți păzească viselii Să-ți mângâie geanilii Geanilii sprânceanilii…”

Yes, he’d be there when the damn broke.

-

prompt set 3, feel free to continue this is you'd like to song link

[rise-my-angel]

The mixed urge to sing along to Rains of Castamere or scream because they killed my boi.

Whats worse is the first we heard it was in season 2 episode 9 "Blackwater", where it cut to Bronn singing it with a bunch of Lannister soldiers in the style of a drunken tavern song. And that was before season 3 told us what the song meant, the episode right before the red wedding. So our first introduction to it was as a catchy drinking song.

Its just like the Bear and the Maiden Fair. Thematically the song is so heavily linked to Brienne and Jaime in the bear pit as thats what the men tauntingly sung while Brienne was against the bear alone. But the first time we heard it was being sung as a travelling song of the Bolton men after capturing the two of them. Which is started by Locke, so everytime someone talks about that song in relation to Brienne and Jaime all I can think of is "man for a peice of shit like Locke he sure had a beautiful singing voice."

We dont see a lot of the songs from the books in the show, but the way they use what few they did show was actually quite clever. Showing us twice that stories are told in songs in this universe, and the way its sung and where its sung can dicate to different walks of people what meaning to derriere from it.

We hear the Rains of Castamere being sung by soldiers before a battle sharing drinks, but the next we hear of it, is Cersei describing to Margaery in detail it was a gruesome true story about how her father ended the reign of a great house. Right before Tywin does so again with the Starks, where it's played in a beautiful instrumental as a ploy to start a massacre at a wedding.

I know why they didn't do a lot of the songs, its hard to do songs in a live action setting like that without feeling overdone like its suddnely a musical, but I wish we heard at least some from the later seasons.

Bael the Bard coming up around the time of the reveal of Jons parentage. (Ignoring how they revealed it cus fucking ew) Imagine they play a gentle but morose version of that song over top of footage of Jon at his desk or something with a just out of focus blue rose in a little vase beside him, when maybe we heard it once before during a fun celebration like scene in Winterfell before. Or keep it in the show that Ygritte sings it around Jon because it signifies that she is the Bael and Jon is kidnapped/raped Stark child in that situation, and so it later changes context to show that Jon was the kidnapped/raped Stark as was the girl in the song as was Lyanna linking the sing to them as mother and sons fate both matching in horrible ways. Implying Ygritte is the Bael to Jon as Rhaegar was the Bael to Lyanna but that would've required the show to understand that women can indeed rape men in the first place.

Rat Cook, Jennys Song, Brave Danny Flint. Lots of morose songs that could be translated in unique ways in live action that could have added to certain subplots in subtext while growing the worldbuilding through the way asoiaf does with its songs.

[rue-dixon]

UGH I NEED TO TALK ABOUT THIS STUPID ORIGINAL STORY INSPIRED BY CHILCHUCK BUT I HAVE NO ONE TO LISTEN TO IM GOING TO TUMBLR

You can ignore this I just needa get it out somewhere

anyway it started out as a chil family au where Chilchuck and Meijack were knights serving a king and Meijack falling in love with a princess. But then I had an idea for an au about the whole family they were like in Ireland in the dark ages. Eventually I combined them together and took away the whole concept of it taking place in the dunmeshi universe. And instead put it in an original universe I already had and put them in an area that's based off Celtic mythology. So all the mythology was real so it was like Celtic fantasy kinda.

Then I realized I was changing the characters so much in appearance and personality (for Chilchuck and mickbell anyway) and that I was basically writing for scratch for Dandan, Meijack, Bellana (Chilwife), Puckpatti, and Flertom not to mention added a bunch of other original characters I thought "why am I limiting myself to it being an au" so I renamed and redesigned them all. They all still kinda look like their dunmeshi counterparts but that's ok.

I've already drafted out like 23 chapters so I just wanna vent about it cuz I'm never gonna like post it as a proper au fanfic or anything

Dandan is the only one I've made a REAL redesign for. But as you can see it still looks like him if you squint lmao. And his name is Danny (for now cus I still liked the idea of him going Dan but I might change it again)

OK THE ACTUAL PLOT

The Celt inspired people have a "peace treaty" with another ground of people inspired by the French (stay with me). The French will import lots of goods their people on the islands need in return every 20 years they take 50 "young men" (when in reality it's boys ages 15-20) to serve as knights for their military for 20 years.

Well at 15 Chilchuck's character gets picked along with his older brother Keegan (original character) bc they're very big as it runs in the family so they stand out a lot.

Chilchuck does his time, Keegan died during that time. But his lover and woman he proposed to literally the day he was taken, Bellana was pregnant with Maelock. (Meijack yes Ik very different leave me alone.) Maelock gets around 16, when she decided to go over seas because she can't wait another 4 years to meet her father and becomes a knight too in a desperate attempt to know him. Well while she's there she gets appointed to protect the princess and they fall in love secret love affair yada. Also Chilchuck's character becomes the captain of the royal forces, so he used the power he had to take Maelock home with him 4 years later when he retired.

(Which is what this drawing I did is about)

Anyway they come home. And Chilchuck is obviously very different. Not only as he went from 15 to 35 he's like severally traumatized bc yk war obviously. Because Maelock was more of a guard and wasn't there as long she's not as bad. She just seems very depressed bc she left the love of her life but no one knows that.

So most of the story is Chilchuck's character trying to become adjusted to "domestic life again." They have three more daughters. Bonnie (Flertom's counterpart), Paddy (Puckpatti), and Nessa (original). Which having young kids as he didn't get to see Maelock grow up is really hard for him and part of it is learning how to deal with it.

(Not to mention having to reconnect with his family and himself like he is in these sorta)

While Chilchuck's character is tired and wants to never touch a sword (unless it's for defeating monsters cuz the islands and literally CRAWLING with crazy ass creatures. That's another part of it) ever again in his entire life. But Bellana's brother Danny (Dandan) on the other hand is angry. Bc he has to raise Maelock as a father figure. He has to take care of his pregnant sister at only 12 years old. He had to watch the families grief back at him for years and suffer because of their sons being taken to literally DIE. And it's very rare the boys come back. Only like 6 out of the 20 came back including Chilchuck's character I think.

Danny wants an uprising. He was to break that contract. And he believes that since Chilchuck's experience and position with the kingdom over seas will help them. That they possibly had a chance to win with him. But Chilchuck's character doesn't want to fight. He's tired. He doesn't want to see anyone else die under his command. Danny is angry with his in law but more at the people who took him.

Chilchuck's character kinda keeps this mindset especially since he had all girls so none of them would get taken. It's not until him and Danny find a beggar boy in the snow after getting publicly punished for stealing to eat and his husky (changed Kuro to a real dog but might change the type again). It's a cold night and he'll probably die out there. So they take him in. They make a deal that if he works they'll feed him and clothe him and let him stay with them. Only rules are not to steal and don't speak or touch his daughters. Or he'll "put his head on a spike and feed his body to wild boars" lol.

(Them before I fully changed them. Mickbell and Chilchuck still need a proper redesign)

Well mickbells character (I CANNOT think of a new name for him.) is untrusting. Standoffish and his dislike for the family is very clear. But he is taken back by the kindness specially Bellana and Danny show him. Eventually he warms up to them and he sort of becomes part of the family. And he even falls for the second oldest daughter Bonnie (changed their ages so they're like the same age).

Well the date for when the kingdom comes back to take new boys is finally coming. And mickbells gotten pretty well built with the labor and being fed multiple times a day now. Chilchuck's character knows he'd definitely be chosen as he's only about 18, and it's pretty much pointless to hide him because the soldiers make sure no one can hide.

So finally Chilchuck's character decides alright I'll do something but it won't be war. (At least he hopes it won't cause one) so with his leadership the people of the village sunk the ship that came to collect them. Well this doesn't go well obviously, and the kingdom takes this as a broken treaty and they send battle ships.

They try to get as many people to the cliffs for safety as possibly. Because they literally cannot keep up with their technology (and they kingdom has use of magic while the Celtic people do not) so Chilchuck's character just tried to get everyone away with the rest of the family.

Accept for Maelock who knows for a fact that her life the Princess Willow (original) would have been crowned queen by now because she would've inherited the throne at 30 and she knew she was already way in her 30s. And it was costume for the leader or whatever. Maelock knew Willow enough to know she wouldn't do this on her own and it was probably the Queen 2 sessions before her (her grandma basically) pulling the strings as she had been for many years.

Maelock gets to the front of the battle finds Willow and tells her the truth behind everything. Willow and her parents were told by the grandmother that for years the men were coming willingly because they were paid very handsome sums for their work. And they were aloud to visit their families and etc etc just a bunch of lies.

Willow calls it off. As queen she issues a formal apology to the people and sets a new issue where they kingdom and island and trade partners and nothing more. With Willow and Maelock being together again they marry which also furthers a real peace between each country. Maelock does go live with Willow over seas but she tries to visit her family often.

I want Chilchuck's character to die. Either just from old age or he gets cursed. But I figured that wouldnt happen in the canon time line so I've just left

Anyways I know no one actually sat here and read this whole thing but IF YOU DID omg??? Thank you so much hope this wasn't a huge waist of your time Abe I love you sm 😭🙏

(Bonus drawing cuz I didn't really have a talking point to fit it with lol. But the two of them have complete redesigns too I just haven't gotten to drawing then out yet.)

[randomwritingdrabbles]

Batfam: *horrified silence*

Jason: *staring at the area where he can sense something lazarous flavoured*

Danny: *hoping to every ancient that The Red Hood Coolest Antihero Ever can't actually see him*

Jason has never had a sane thought in his life Red Hood: *grabs corpse and starts walking away* "bet u need this bitch"

Batfam: wtfwtfwtfwtf "Hood are you having a psychotic break or something?!"

Danny still needs that body to human and shit Fenton: fuckfuckfuckfuck do I possess him? Noooooooo give that back!!! Man you're not my favourite hero any more, this isn't cool!

Duke: *watching the glowing entity that came out of his new friend have an existential crisis while chasing his brother who's carrying the corpse of his new friend* "huh well it's not the weirdest thing that's happened recently. Tis pretty funny though."

There was this fan comic about a Danny Phantom AU where when he goes ghost he drops his dead body to the floor; a la ichigo from bleach then Sam/Tucker had to hide his body. That AU but crossed over with DC and Bruce/other heroes trying to adopt him.  Danny: “You can’t adopt me if I’m dead!” 

Hero: ��Wait kid, don’t-” 

*body drops to the floor dead while phantom’s invisible.* Hero: *horrified silence.* Danny: *has to wait until his body is alone before he can get it back.* ‘Worth it.’

[thegatorsgoose]

Dove

My headcanon (?) of what Danny from Wayne's Haunted Mansion by @tathartiel would look like as a vigilante

I love this fic to bits and as everything I love I overthink about it, and I started thinking about what he would look like if he became a vigilante with the batfam. (considering Bruce’s track record, and Danny’s need to help, I feel like it’s inevitable lmao)

It’s mostly just a slightly tweaked version of his hazmat suit + a white clockwork style cloak. I made sure to add a lot of armor around the knees, shoulders, elbows and knuckles and not much else because id imagine like black bat, he doesn’t run in there like the others, instead waiting all sneaky like for the perfect moment to jump out of the shadows.

The mask was originally just the top part, which is shaped like the bat symbol if you couldn’t tell, but then I realized this Danny has a very noticeable scar on his mouth and I’m not about to pull a Jason Todd and have a major definable feature just hanging out (seriously dude cover your hair) so I added the bottom part as well. It does detach tho! So he can eat bat burger with the fam afterwards:) the eyes of the mask are either black or ecto green, which Danny controls by feeding ectoplasm into it. I saw someone do something similar in a fic but I don’t remember which one, but I thought it was cool. I also added it cus Dannys a ghost, he likes causing mischief and spooking people, it’s in his blood! And seeing two glowing green eyes appear out of nowhere in the shadows is very spooky.

Also we got service dog/guard dog Cujo, the best boy, and Nightwing congratulating Dove on his first patrol! “Good job on your first patrol, spooky!”(My handwriting is trash I would have fixed it up but eh). Why give him a scythe, you ask? Well, why not? In reality I doubt he’d use one in this fic but also he has an extremely rich and specialized family, if no one in the fam can teach him then they could easily higher someone. So why no :P

I definitely intend to color this, but I’m to lazy and tired rn and I just wanted to share cus this design has been plaguing me for a while. Luckily the sketchs turned out good enough to post 👍 I hope.

(Edit, posted a little comic of him)

[phantomphangphucker]

Ectober Day 14: Haunt - No Vacancy

Danny’s a protective guy, and an especially protective ghost. There’s no way he’d let someone potentially genuinely dangerous stay in his town. His ghost side especially won’t.

Danny knows what he has to do with this situation, he doesn’t like it, but it has to be done. It’s his job and this is his home, so he’ll handle it. Sighing, steeling himself, and phasing through the classroom door. Watching the teacher grading papers for a small while, “why are you here?”.

She doesn’t look up to him, “I’m grading papers. No I haven’t gotten to yours yet”.

Danny narrows his eyes slightly, “that’s not what I mean, and I know you’re aware of that”. So far things haven’t gotten violent and she wasn’t yelling or freaking out, so he feels slightly justified in hoping this goes well.

She sighs and looks to him, “and why can’t I be here? What? Do you think you get to pick and chose who’s allowed to be here?”, and bares her teeth at him slightly. Well... there goes being completely non-confrontational.

Danny crosses his arms, “actually yeah, yeah I do. I don’t know if you remember this or not, but I protect this town. Have for years. And I definitely do not let anyone I think might be even slightly dangerous stay here. Visiting is one thing. Passing through. Tourism. But that’s clearly not what you’re doing here. Considering”, uncrossing his arms to point at the stack of homework and recrossing them. He’s not going to give her an inch, considering how easily taken advantage of doing that could make someone. And protecting his town, his lair, his haunt, isn’t something he’s about to compromise because someone else has issues with it. Ghost or human.

She stands up with a scowl, clearly attempting to make him feel small by looming over him. He just floats higher of course which makes her scowl deepen. He knows doing that makes it clear he isn’t intimidated or interested in backing down. “I am doing my job. What I’m meant to do-”.

Danny cuts her off, “then do it somewhere else. Someplace meant for you”, and hoping his meaning will clue her in, put ideas in her head and draw her away. Whatever it takes to get her gone without getting physical or violent.

She practically roars at him, “NO. This is my classroom and has been longer than you’ve been in this town, Phantom. How about you get out of my classroom”, and moves to swipe at him.

Danny sighs, uncrossing his arms to catch her wrist. Of course she was genuinely attached. She wasn’t just here out of familiarity. But still. “You’re weak. Newly formed. This isn’t a fight you can win. And this classroom is part of what’s mine, and has been long before you formed. You do not have claim, I do”, and pulls her wrist making her smack into the whiteboard; clearly she doesn’t have a grasp on her abilities yet. Expected but it does make this easier. Driving off the young was much easier. He does feel slightly bad, but his feelings change nothing. Turning in the air to look down at her, “look, I get it. But this’ll hurt less the sooner you leave. The Realms will form you a perfectly fine lair”.

She snarls at him, eyes flashing orange, “I don’t want that. I already have what’s mine. I already have my lair. Now get out!”, and lunges at him again; Danny simply going intangible and grabbing her back as she passes through him, pinning her to the ground.

Danny sits cross-legged on her back, her snarling and trying to scratch at him all the while, “you can’t form a lair in someone else’s. That’s not how things work. Especially not with me. If you were stronger maybe, but you're not. In this situation, I am a wolf and you are a little pinned baby rabbit. I am giving you the option to leave. I am being nice. Normally I’d just capture you-”, readjusting to avoid her arm as she clearly is starting to get a handle on body manipulation, “-but you haven’t connected to the Realms proper yet. You haven’t formed an actual lair there. You’ll be destroyed if I capture you. Even I have a lair there, it’s not so bad”.

She sneers and snarls at him, trying to push up off the ground but unable to, “then why don’t you screw off to the Realms and leave me alone!”.

“Because here’s my primary lair and I have no reason to leave it. Even if that wasn’t the case, I am the stronger older one here. And I have more claim to any section of the Mortal Realm than any other ghost”, sighing and adding off-handedly, trying to keep a handle on his aggression, “except Wisconsin, but if you want to fight with the ghost whose lair is there, be my guest. He won’t hesitate to destroy you. Eat you”. He wants her to get that that is a serious threat. She is not staying. He is not allowing that. She is nothing short of lucky that his halfa status gives him better control over his ghostly nature. Otherwise, he probably would have already torn her to shreds.

She turns her head around, “I am not moving my haunt, now get OFF!”, and tries biting his knee, he goes intangible but her teeth connect anyway. Her smug look disappears when he doesn’t so much as wince.

Danny forcibly phases his fingers through her teeth, easily overwhelming her energy that’s trying to fight him, and pries her mouth open and off him. She’s starting to get on his nerves and poking at his protectiveness; and his possessiveness, “lady, you are not staying here”, leaning his mouth closer to her ear and pressing her into the floor a bit harder, “you will leave. I do not care if you want to claim this school or even this single classroom as yours. It is not yours. It will never be yours. You are in my haunt, my lair, without my permission and you will get out or I will eat you”, pressing her down a little more and flaring his eyes, “let me reiterate. If you do not leave. If you do not go to the Realms. If you even try to stay here. In my lair. Around my humans. Within what I haunt. I. Will. Eat. YOU”, his pitch rising and reverberating enough to shake the walls.

He can feel and see her watching his teeth as he snarls at her, making sure every single one of his fangs is on display. “You are a child ghost, but that does not change that you are a threat to what’s mine. GET OUT”.

She claws at the ground a little before whimpering when his energy nips at hers for a little added encouragement. Though if he’s being honest with himself, he hadn’t done that entirely intentionally. Her glancing at the desk, “can I... finish marking first”, and whimpers again when he presses down on her again.

Him snarling, “NO. You lost that chance”. He immediately chomps on part of the ecto-energy that makes up her hair and tears it off when she starts up protesting him again, “but-“. So long as she hasn’t connected to the Realms proper she won’t be able to reform or replenish her ectoplasm and energy. And he knows on a primal level that she can sense that just the same as him. That makes her prey to him, and he twitches harshly from trying to not act on that predatory feeling.

“GET OUT. NOW”. Grabbing her head and roughly forcing her to look at him, her ectoplasm splattered and smeared on his face will hopefully be enough.

“I- okay”, her voice is a little shaky, “okay. I’ll- I’ll go. Just... get off me and- and don’t take anymore”, the last bit coming out almost pleading.

He frowns, teeth still bared. Shoving her head to get out a bit of aggression before pushing himself to sit up on her back again, watching her, “give me a second. But if you move, I will bite you again”. He needs to calm down, or he’s going to lunge at her the second she starts moving around.

“Okay”. He feels slightly bad but also unpleasantly pleased over how pathetic that sounded. He had asserted his dominance and ownership, and she had bent a knee.

She seems to regain a bit of her confidence while he’s sitting there breathing, “will the lair the Realms forms me be like... here”. He can feel the struggle there to avoid calling ‘here’ her lair; which he’s certain he would have harmed her for.

“It will be exactly as you need it to be. What will let you satisfy your Obsession perfectly. That’s how Ghost Realm lairs work. It may resemble here. May. But I make no guarantees”.

“Does... yours there have somewhere that resembles here”.

Danny sighs, he knows she’s not asking to move to his Ghost Realm lair. She’s asking if it looks like Amity, his Mortal Realm lair. “I am different. My lairs fulfill different needs. We aren’t comparable”.

She snaps at him, “why the Hell not”, which he pushes on her back for.

Snarling slightly, “because you’re a normal ghost. I am not. The one I have there was conquered from another ghost who was ultimately weaker than me and threatened my lair”, sighing and breathing, “unlike you, the Realms will not form me a lair. And Mortal Realm lairs do not reform, if it were not for my conquered one then if this one were to get destroyed then I would be without a lair. Hauntless. Understand?”. He knows that was part of the reason for his overprotectiveness, the fact that his Obsession was protection only exacerbated that.

She stares off into space a little before shivering, obviously picturing what it would be like to simply not have a haunt. “Oh”.

Danny snarks a little, feeling a little more like himself, “yeah. ‘Oh’”. Shifting a little before pushing himself to float up off her. Her eyeing his hand as he holds it out to her and she turns over to sit up, cautiously standing. He sighs at her paranoia, understandable as it was, “you’ve agreed to leave. So I’ll help you to do that. The way from here to there lies with ghost hunters. It’s not the safest trip”. Continuing when she glances at herself, she was a rather human-looking ghost, “they have equipment that can tell”.

Thankfully she takes his hand, him transferring over enough energy to her for her to float and to turn her invisible and intangible. Her looking mystified as he pulls them up through the ceiling. That manages to get a bit of a smile on his face as he flies them off to FentonWorks, child ghosts could be cute; especially newly formed ones.

Danny parks her on the roof, “stay. Or else”, flashing green stained fangs for emphasis, and phases inside to check that his parents are gone. He’s very thankful they are. He can’t deal with them right now.

Floating back up, pleased she’s stayed put instead of making a run for it. He must have given her a decent scare then. Her taking his hand again without prompting this time and them heading to the lab.

He leaves her standing in front of the portal as he goes to active it, the doors clanging open and bathing the room in a toxic green glow. She fiddles with her fingers and glances to him, “do I have to?”.

Danny glares and hisses slightly, “yes”, and licks off a bit of the ectoplasm from his face.

“Will it hurt?”. He softens at that and shakes his head, sticking his arm through, “no. Don’t worry. I and plenty others pass through here all the time. And you’re not the first newly formed I’ve had to give the boot”, Sam and Tucker had asked the same before their first trip.

She nods and swallows a little, still practicing the lingering habits she had as one of the living. “I... thanks for not eating me”.

“Don’t mention it. But you can repay me by leaving”. Thankfully that’s enough prompting for her to walk through on her own.

Danny sticks his head through purely to check on her after wiping of his mouth properly, grinning at the Ghost Realms ectoplasm wrapping around her and pulling on her, urging her towards the lair that was already forming. At least things go right and she can feel the pull properly, clearly wants to follow. Turning her head to him, “I think this time I actually mean it, but thanks”.

Danny chuckles, “expected. Ghosts aren’t supposed to have lairs amongst the living. It’s unnatural. A haunt maybe, but not a haunt that’s a genuine lair”.

“Then what’s so special about you?”.

“Ah that’s simple. I’m still alive”, and pulls his head back through the portal. She'll hear about halfas soon enough. For now, she’s got a lair to focus on and he’s got his to get back to guarding.

End.

[aceofjesters]

cringe culture is dead. fuck it post tma ponies

more info under the cut lol

avatars in general

-cutie marks extend past flank onto entire body, original colours sometimes change, magic colours will always change colour to suit their deity

jon

-got the web cutiemark after the mr spider incident and was unsure what it meant, obvs he later found out it was just a mark of the web

-after becoming an avatar of the eye his eyes/magic colour change to bright green, same as all his predecessors

-after the “open the door” incident, he becomes an alicorn

-as he becomes an avatar his web cutie mark grows and starts to grow eyes in random places

martin

-his original cutie mark is a heart and two hooves holding it up to signify how his caring is his best personality trait

-he becomes desaturated during the lonely and his cutie mark completely changes to the fog symbolic of the lonely

-post-lonely, he gains his saturated colours back but the hooves underneath his heart mark become fog clouds

sasha

-could also be a unicorn, i am unsure

-cutie mark is books just cus shes smart

tim

-originally only had the yellow happy face and ribbon on his cutie mark to show how he can always be happy in the face of adversity

-after the danny thing a blue sad face is added

daisy

-cutie mark was originally a daisy but changed subtly to the hunt icon after it infected her

-turns into a wolf in monster form, original i know

basira

-this made me think about ponies with headscarves

-because the point of headscarves is to hide hair, i thought it would make sense if ponies also hid their tails

-she gets a magnifying glass cutie mark because shes good at investigating/smart

georgie

-in case its unclear shes an earth pony

-i put too much thought into her cutie mark

-its a pool of water with a petal on it to show that the pool is calm showing her inability to feel fear idk lol

melanie

-ghost cutie mark for ghost hunting

-during the time shes got the bullet in her leg her colours become more saturated and angry and her cutie mark changes to look more demonic

-when someone isn’t an avatar of a deity but is affected their cutie mark changes more subtly, also happens with daisy

peter lukas

-fog cutie mark that extends over body bc hes an avatar

-before becoming a full avatar he still just had a fog cutie mark bc he was that into it

elias/jonah magnus

-eyes all over body as avatar-cutie mark

-dont know what elias’s original cutie mark was bc i dont know enough about him but once he turned into jonah it was taken over by the eye icon

michael & helen

-originally had the colours you can see on their body/hair

-spiral cutie mark extends over body and is multiple colours but always pink/blue/yellow

-jeez michael you stole pinkie pie’s colour scheme shes suing you now what u gonna do

gertrude

-SHES IN TWO PICTURES

-first pic is her as an old lady. colours are desaturated, hair has gone grey

-she has the green magic colour and a green eye that has covered her original cutie mark

-in the 2nd pic she is young, colours are saturated again, she is excited about her cutie mark which is a world, showing her supposed destiny to save the world

jurgen

-old man. his colours are not desaturated they were always like that

-book cutie mark because he collects books

gerry

-in 2 pictures as well

-first is baby gerry, he actually remained a blank flank for a very long time but his mother tattooed a book cutie mark on him to convince him it is his destiny/talent to work with her forever

-2nd pic shows him when jon burns his page, he gets his real cutie mark which is a book burning, showing his talent for destroying dangerous knowledge

agnes

-shes just cute i wanted to draw her as a pony

-as someone born to be an avatar she’s the first ever to be born with a cutie mark

-though her cutie mark is just flames all over her which was assumed to be a cutie mark because of the nature of avatars

-agnes wondered if she could get a “”real”” cutie mark and turns out! she could

-her new one is the heart with flames on it overlaid over her original mark

-because shes full of love!!

-i dont know why i love agnes so much ok

[rwbyremnants]

TRIGGER WARNING: Racism and abuse.

NOTE: Merry Christma... well, Boxing Day! Sorry this chapter isn't exactly the most festive it could have been. Hopefully you enjoy it anyway!

=Chapter 9

That early evening, Weiss felt content in her knowledge that she and Yang were on good terms, and that they had already logged some study time to help Yang improve her grades. Things were going well. Now, she only had to solve one other new problem that had presented itself.

“Search me,” Pyrrha sighed as she gently stirred her milkshake with the straw, gazing into the far corner of the malt shop. Weiss had elected to have only a cherry phosphate, not wanting to spoil her dinner since she was eating at home tonight. “I’m an only child.”

“I might as well be,” Weiss admitted. “Whitley is a pill, and a boy anyway, and Winter’s been gone away to college for a couple of years now. Father won’t even tell me if she calls or writes since he’s so disappointed in her career choice.”

“But the WAC is a noble field! I’ve actually been thinking of enlisting myself, if I don’t train for the Olympics…”

Lowering her voice, Weiss whispered, “I think he expects it to turn her into a lesbian. Since the army is ‘men’s work’ to him. Which is pretty ironic, isn’t it? Worried about the wrong daughter.” Then in a more normal tone, she added, “Plus, he wanted her to take over the company reins. I’m not as well-suited, even though I want to - and Whitley is completely useless, the selfish little toad. But it’s too late; she’s even more stubborn than me, and won’t change her mind for anything.”

Pyrrha nodded to herself as Danny And The Juniors came on the jukebox. A few of the kids in the far corner got up and started to dance, even though it always made the elderly man behind the counter roll his eyes. Privately, Weiss thought that if he hated modern music so much, he shouldn’t provide it for the clientele.

“Well… are you sure you want to take over the business?”

“Huh?”

“It’s not set in stone. If you want to do something else with your life, I think you should. We only go around once, don’t we?”

“Thanks,” Weiss snorted as she patted Pyrrha’s hand. “You’re a peach, Pyrrha. But no… I do think I’d like to take over Schnee Communications. Really do something big with it.” She noticed her other hand was tapping the stem of her soda glass, and she smiled. “Did you want to dance?”

“Hm? Dance? Me? To what?”

“To ‘At The Hop’, you dunce,” she giggled.

“With you?” An instant later, she blanched and followed up, “N-not that there’s anything wrong with that! I just m-meant… well, we’re in public, a-and I’m not like you are, a-and-”

“No one cares if two girls dance together, Pyrrha. As long as we don’t start necking in the middle of the malt shop, it’s fine! Besides… maybe we’ll get asked to dance by boys.”

Still flushed, Pyrrha glanced over shoulder at the crowd. “You really think so?”

“I do. And who knows? Might get your mind off a certain Jaune Arc.”

“Shhh!” she hissed, but even while Weiss was giggling she slid out of the booth and grabbed her by the hand, dragging her just far enough from their booth to dance.

Neither of them were very good at it, but at least enough to keep time with the music and avoid knocking anything - or anyone - to the floor. Weiss had to admit she was impressed with Pyrrha’s jitterbugging, and even herself for not falling on her behind even once. She did see out of the corner of her eye that a few of the boys were watching them with slight astonishment, but she made up her mind not to care; if she projected confidence, showed that she didn’t care in the slightest, they would eventually go back to their own dance partners. And she was right; a couple of other girls did the same, and even two boys, laughing at the absurdity. Maybe they would start a trend!

When “All Shook Up” came on next, she couldn’t seem to help herself; she really thought Elvis was the most. Pyrrha took a step back and let Weiss put on a show by herself, mostly just swaying and snapping her fingers. Neither of them minded much, and she got a few cheers when the song ended. Vaguely embarrassed, she curtsied and moved to sit down.

Then someone put in another dime and cued up “Lollipop”. Pyrrha kept dancing, but Weiss decided that it was time to put on a show of a different kind.

“Call my baby lollipop, tell you why,” she belted out in time with the Chordettes, earning her wolf-whistles and thunderous applause from all but the elderly soda jerk. “His kiss is sweeter than an apple pie! And when he does his shaky rockin' dance, man, I haven't got a chance!”

Everyone started singing along with the chorus, and Pyrrha laughed and clapped louder, clearly enjoying herself. Weiss was, too. For some reason, she had always thought it too unseemly to dance in public anytime other than an actual school sock hop. Singing was another matter, but her father expected her to keep her performances to operetta and hymns. As much as she liked popular music, it was discouraged and seen as “pedestrian”, so she had never owned any records of her own.

Finally worn out, the two of them finished off their drinks and then made their way home. If they settled in quickly, they could study for an hour or so before suppertime.

However, as it turned out, life had other plans.

“Weiss!” her father called out as they passed through the living room. “May I speak with you a moment?”

“Yes, Father?”

He glanced pointedly at Pyrrha. “Alone?”

“Sorry,” she whispered to her friend. “I’ll be up in a minute?” Pyrrha nodded, waving at Mr. Schnee as she headed upstairs. He did not deign to acknowledge her.

“Good. Sit.” He motioned to the couch before reclaiming his armchair. Weiss obeyed, sitting primly on the edge of the cushion. “I was hoping you would be able to shed some light on certain information that has come into my possession.”

“Sorry, what information is that?”

“Apparently, you have been consorting with known delinquents.”

As she stared at her father, the bottom dropped out of Weiss's stomach. Someone had seen her with Yang. Who?! They hadn't been very discreet so it shouldn't have come as much of a surprise that they had been caught - and yet it did. She was completely gobsmacked. Still, there was no reason to cop to everything right away; maybe he didn't know very much, and she certainly didn't want to accidentally volunteer information that wasn't necessary to volunteer.

“What?”

“Don't play coy with me,” he went on with a slight sneer that lifted the corner of his mustache. “Whitley saw you sneaking out of the house in the dead of night. What could you have been thinking?”

It was worse than she thought. Of course her father would believe Whitley, that little toad. “W-well, I only went to retrieve a school book I loaned out.”

“To that Chinese girl, hmm?”

“Yes. I'm helping her with math and-”

“You expect me to believe that the only reason you climbed down the side of our home was to retrieve a book? Just what sort of fool do you take me for?”

“The best sort! Wait- I mean, no fool at all, Sir!”

Shaking his head, he crossed his legs and leaned heavily against one elbow. “All the money spent on tutoring, already wasted when you insisted on going to a public school instead of a private academy. Your mother made the inane decision that if it was what you wanted, it was worth the sacrifice. And now look where we are! You’re running around Vale with some kind of… opium fiends on motorbikes!”

“Opium…” Weiss rolled her eyes when she made the connection. “Just because she’s half-Chinese doesn’t mean she’s ever even seen opium, Father. And as far as I know, she hasn’t!”

“Oh, really? You have enough experience with the fruit of the poppy that you can tell the difference?”

It was very difficult for her not to get upset with him. “I’ve literally never spent a moment thinking about her being Chinese. She’s being raised by her mother, who’s from America.”

“Hmph. The fact remains, she is not the sort of friend you ought to be keeping company with. I forbid you to see her anymore.”

“You what?” Blinking up at him, she waited for him to elaborate, or to rescind his edict. He did not. So she burst out, “You can’t do that!”

“I just have.”

“But she’s-” It took quite a lot of effort to suppress some kind of ill-conceived confession of love. “Father, she needs my help in school, a-and we’re good friends! And you won’t tell me I’m not to see her!”

His eyes flashed dangerously. “Watch your tongue, young lady. This is my house, and what I say goes.”

“NO!”

“Excuse me?”

“Not this time!” she snapped, leaping to her feet. She knew this wasn’t a spectacular idea, but she couldn’t seem to stop herself; it was as if the anger pulsing behind her temples was taking over her body, separating her from being able to command it any longer. “All I ever do is what you tell me to! I’m a good student, I practice my singing every day, a-and I’ve even been keeping up with tennis! With Yang! So why… I mean, how can you forbid me to see someone you don’t even know? That isn’t fair!”

She could have predicted he would say “Life isn’t fair” before he even formed the words, and was only further angered to hear him say them after all.

“So what?! That doesn’t mean you have to be unfair along with it!”

Jacques Schnee shot to his feet and snatched up her bicep, jerking her forcibly toward him with an iron grip. His cold eyes stabbed down into her own and her heart stopped beating to see his barely-concealed rage.

“You will stop speaking to me in this manner, and you still stop associating with the Chinese girl. My decision is final. If you continue to disobey me, there will be further consequences. Do I make myself clear?”

“No.”

“Try that again,” he growled, shaking her arm.

She didn’t know why she said it. Her father had already proven he had no interest in what she had to say at all. Perhaps it was the fact that Yang had become a lot more important to her than she ever thought possible, and that connection was too precious to be severed for no reason other than Yang’s race and the fact that she wore a leather jacket. Something within her was glowing white-hot and could not be cooled down until it burned something else.

“Or what? You’re going to hit me? Again? Like you hit mother when you think we’re not looking? Like she hits Whitley when he smarts off? Is that just what this family does? It’s pathetic! You are pathetic!”

His eyes flicked to her scar, and Weiss felt the dark thrill of a very unsatisfying triumph. A rough shove sent her falling against the couch, grasping at the arm to keep from winding up in the floor.

“I knew it was a mistake to entrust my company’s future to a woman. You never see the bigger picture. Whitley may be a low-grade moron, but at least he understands loyalty. All you care about is your sock hops and giggling with the girls - now including some foreign wok-woman. Squandering your potential. There’s too much of your mother in you.”

“I don’t care,” she lied as the tears began. How desperately she wished they wouldn’t.

“You will. When I’m disciplining you until you straighten up and act in a way befitting the Schnee name, you’ll care.” Smoothing the front of his suit, which had barely been disturbed at all by shoving his daughter, he grunted, “Get up and stop that blubbering.”

Weiss obeyed. Back straight, she stared him down, even as her cheeks glistened.

“Better. Now, you will sever all contact with the ruffian girl, and you will focus on your studies. Is that clear?”

“It’s clear.”

“Do you promise to obey me?”

Teeth clenched, she hissed, “Never.” His hand came down hard across her face. “AH!”

“Do you promise to obey me?!”

Furious in a way she didn’t know she could be, Weiss turned and screamed, “NEVER! I’ll never obey! You can slap me, you can kick me, y-you can chop me into pieces and feed me to the birds! I don’t care! I’m never going to let you tell me who I can and can’t be friends with, EVER!”

For a long moment, he regarded her and the angry red throbbing on her cheek. His face was completely impassive, even though he was breathing hard. Then he turned to stare into the unlit fireplace.

“That’s ‘with whom I can and can’t be friends’. Clearly, she’s already having a detrimental effect on your grammar.” The sigh was weary, as if this were nothing more than a tedious board meeting. “Very well. I’ll take care of the matter myself. And don’t think there won’t be further consequences.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” she demanded.

“You’ll see.” Turning back, he glared down at her. “You are dismissed. Go and study. Do something useful for a change.”

After a few seconds of huffing and puffing, Weiss managed to growl out “I hate you!” before she fled from the room and stomped upstairs.

She had fully intended on going to her room. Pyrrha was probably worried about the screaming, if she hadn’t somehow missed all the noise. Halfway there, she changed direction and burst into the drawing room, fists vibrating at her sides.

“MOTHER!”

Willow Schnee was draped over the piano bench, an empty bottle of red wine dangling in her loose grip. This was sadly a standard state of being for the woman; it had been for many years. Weiss had some hazy memories of a glamourous woman who didn’t fall to pieces so often, who could resist the pull of strong spirits. Hazy, distant, and with no impact on the present day.

“Wha…?”

Sinking to her knees beside her, Weiss sniffled and whispered, “He hit me again! H-he promised he wouldn’t, and he did, a-and I… Mommy, I need you to come back! Come back to us!”

The skin between the woman’s perfect eyebrows crinkled as she tried to think her way through the fog of alcohol. “Hm?”

“He slapped me! Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”

“Oh… no, no he didn’t. He said no more… only me.” She groaned and pushed a hand into her face. “Winter, stop the train, Mommy needs to lie down…”

Of course it was useless. Sighing, she took the bottle and set it aside, then managed to heave her mother to her feet and guide her to the chaise lounge under the window. The setting sun was just starting to pinken the sky, and she thought the view might help.

“Please don’t go,” Mrs. Schnee murmured. “I… want to… you were always so sweet, Weiss…”

“At least you got my name right that time,” she muttered.

“What?”

“Nothing.” Leaning down, she pressed her lips into her mother’s pale forehead. She and Winter looked the most alike, and she definitely had their mother’s gentle eyes. But Weiss had her nominal stature and her angelic singing voice, which were nothing to sneeze at. “Mother?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.”

“Mmm…” Her hand came up to rest on the side of Weiss’s neck. “Love you, too, sweetheart. You’re my little…”

Before she could even finish her sentence, her arm flopped to one side and she began to doze. “Snow Angel,” she finished for her. That was most likely what she had been about to say. Weiss decided to leave her there and simply sneak back out of the room. Compared to that mess, her life was entirely tolerable.

When she regained the safety of her own room, she found Pyrrha twisting the hem of her long poodle skirt in her hands. She looked panicked. Seeing her friend in the doorway, she stood, eyes full of fear as she whispered, “What happened?”

“Nothing.” Edging the door closed, she approached her desk in the corner and rested a hand on her books. “Let’s just… do our homework.”

“Your face…”

“What about it? Am I really that hideous?”

Pyrrha put her hands on her friend’s shoulders and held her fast. “Don’t do that. He… he shouldn’t be allowed to…”

Suddenly, Weiss needed to be alone. She wouldn’t tell Pyrrha to leave, but that didn’t prevent the desire from rising up powerfully within her. The desire to disappear. The desire to be anyone but a Schnee. “Nothing happened. Do you understand?”

“I don’t,” she whispered in a tight voice. “I can’t pretend this away, Weiss.”

“Then try. Try really, really hard.”

Then arms were around her, holding her as close as was possible. Even though she hated herself for it, would have given the entirety of her trust fund away to stem the flow, the tears started pouring forth in earnest. And they didn’t stop for some time.

[lost-on-the-internet]

Ok so this is just another one of those posts raging on the tumblr platform for being fucknuts and I will take this moment to explain why.

How many of you have gotten a company’s jungle stuck in your head and sung that little song to ur friends and got them singing it and now everybody wants to buy insurance from farmers or stab someone so they can get stuck on bandaid brand? 

SO TUMBLR. THIS IS A PLATFORM THAT FEEDS OFF OF GARBAGE JUST LIKE HUMAN INTERACTION. LET ME REBLOG ADS. IF YOU WONT KEEP THEM OFF THIS SITE, LET ME SPREAD THEM TO MY FRIENDS CUS THAT IS SOME TOP TIER SHITPOST CONTENT GOING ON HERE THAT I CANNOT TAKE PART IN AND IM PISSED. 

This week I have seen a plumber/electrician that looked like danny devito and a scientist removing a sprig of broccoli from the head with tweezers and putting it into a petri dish and goddamnit do I want other people to see this shit. What the FUCK.  

[splitshortsyeah]

Flying Lotus 'Cosmogramma'

- Matt Duelka

I hate to admit that college taught me quite a lot. Each month I reach into my pockets in an attempt to reclaim my dignity one monthly payment at a time, but it was worth it. What I’m not afraid to admit is that the ACTUAL COLLEGE INSTITUTION probably only took part in about 15% of my acquired knowledge during that time. I had the opportunity of taking part in some uncredited extracurriculars that made up for the other 85% that allow me to know how to stand on my own 2 feet without a crutch to lean on.

One of those opportunities that helped me get to the “head of the class” was a brainchild of my breadthen Chris Winn, called NotDrugs.com. I would be doing an ill service of trying to give you all a proper derivation, but it was a way for some college kids with ambition, who were into some shit, to talk about that said shit, in a way all that you wanted to talk about the prior stated shit. That freedom, but also the acceptance of whatever was outputted onto the platform, to be without a “cage” of traditional format that kept you too close to the ground was, well, quite exhilarating. It was, though, completely trial by fire, and I learned to be able to take the pat on the backs just as easily as I was taking the punches in the gut. Some shit worked, other stuff didn’t. There was no hiding in the back of the classroom. Front and center, the best way to earn those calluses.

Equal to having the ability to learn to swim by diving into shark infested waters, I also was able to watch others do the same. Just taking a step back and absorbing from the small cohort we had was just as valuable at times. One folk in particular wrote something that introduced me to an artist – and an album – that 10 years later, altered my auditory acceptance valve moving forward. Julian Williams was that guy, a friend to this day, and man -- F THAT DUDE.

Not really. But you get it.

May 12th, 2010, Ju dropped a banger, a Ju-Banger if you will, and introduced me to Flying Lotus. ‘Cosmogramma’ was released about a month earlier (April-ish) and it was his third album (‘1983’ was his first in ’06, ‘Los Angeles’ was his second in ’08). It’s hard for me to put into words what it felt like listening to ‘Cosmogramma’ for the first time, because I don’t think I was that into it. Saying something like that in 2020 makes me want to go back and kidney punch myself until organ failure – but maybe that’s a little harsh.

Ju mentioned in his piece that FlyLo isn’t easy to take in immediately, or even after a few listens through. It’s jarring, and with ‘Cosmogramma’ specifically, arranged in a way that catches you off guard IMMEDIATELY if you aren’t ready. So even if you want to give it a chance, 30secs in most people might throw it away and not even try.

“They only thing I can describe it as is what Aliens would listen to while gliding through space.”

That was said 1 year ago, while at Danny George’s bachelor party. I had a few beverages and I thought everyone would collectively love to jam out to some ‘Cosmogramma’. I was very wrong.

Like I said, or like Ju said, it’s hard to declare it a gold medal winner off the bat if it’s a brand new sound for you. I didn’t give up on it though. I wasn’t sure why but there was something I wanted to like, and knew I could get into, but couldn’t figure out why it was so hard. So, I flipped back a few pages in the book of Flying Lotus and did my due diligence. I cued up ‘Los Angeles’ and checked myself into bootcamp.

‘Los Angeles’ is necessary in order to take in ‘Cosmogramma’. It’s still weird, still out there, but it comes at you with soft jabs and telegraphed body shots before the haymakers start to show up. It gives you time to warm up, like a mile or so jog, before the racing begins. It’s lovely, brings me smiles. I can lose myself in this album – walk from Battery park to the Cloisters, and not even remember if I had gotten dressed for the day yet.

The second half of ‘Los Angeles’ (probably by the time “GNG BNG” comes on, you should be lubed up and ready to go) is where things start to go off the rails (in a spectacular way) and you start to just fire away on all cylinders. And then by the time “RobertaFlack” hits – you can safely say to yourself “This shit SLAPS.”

That’s when you’re ready for ‘Cosmogramma’. When you are comfortable in the skin that ‘Los Angeles’ hardens around you, then it’s okay to press play and enjoy. Gimme Dat. And I received all of it. ‘Cosmogramma’ was a main stay in my arsenal. I had adapted my existence to welcome this unorthodox way of delivering deliciousness to my ear canals.

Before I dive deeper, I feel the need to be transparent and say if you’re looking for a track-by-track evaluation, I ain’t your guy. I don’t think I’ve ever been able to correctly identify specific tracks on any FlyLo album, because it’s too hard for me to step out of the zone while the record is revolving. I probably even recommend to never listen to a track out of context of the album. Just go ahead and take an hour out of your day, block it off in your calendar, and take a ride.

Okay.

Now fast forward with me for a scene,  if you don’t mind. It’s 2011, and we, me PLUS 6 others, are driving a minivan overnight to Ashville, NC. We were going for a 3 day walkabout, visiting different music venues that were showcasing different artists, all with the overarching theme of banging on the Moog (Yes, MOOGFest 2011). After the 16 hour journey, and a decision to “dust off the sleep deprivation and drink through it instead,” the seven of us blitzed our way through the day and night. Until we got to (our) main event.

We were sitting in the bleachers of the UNC-Ashville Arts theater taking in the artistic stylings of Moby (he wasn’t the main event) counting down the minutes on our watches until Flying Lotus was set to go on. Moby could only satiate our appetites so much, so we found the next venue – and a few drinks later – There he was.

It was energy I had never experienced before. It easily could have been the alcohol numbing my surroundings, but I felt if I was in a bubble and I was vacuumed off from the rest of the crowd. My senses were on overload. Usually when you are at a show, you are anticipating each song, or waiting for those few that you know you are gonna POP for. With FlyLo, I don’t get that. I want the experience from start to finish without even stopping to think about what “track” he might play next. I just enjoy being set in a trace and letting FlyLo take me on whatever trip he has planned for that show. And this was only just year 1 of my Flying lotus experience, but having the year top off with that show made me know I was in for the long haul.

Tim will say ‘Cosmogramma’ was peak FlyLo and he hasn’t done better since. I’d say FlyLo reached A peak with ‘Cosmogramma’ but hasn’t descended since. Just kinda stayed up there, peak-hoppin’, enjoying the scenery.

My wife calls it “noise”. And, sure, but you can say that about any music you disagree with. If the sounds aren’t soothing, it’s noise. With FlyLo, calling it noise, though is an easy way out. Because without any interest in the artist, or WANTING to understand what’s going on, you can call it noise and move on. But ‘Cosmogramma’, specifically, isn’t just unheralded noise. It’s strategically placed nodes meant to instigate foot tapping and head nodding, hip swaying. You listen to those opening, rambunctious sounds on the album and for me, I can feel my body, NOW, start to fall into rhythm, because it KNOWS what’s coming. When I said earlier that I ‘Los Angeles’ had a nice warmup before we got into the race, that was because my body was ice cold. When I play ‘Cosmogramma’ today, my body is already at room temperature waiting for the gun to go off. It only needs those opening 11secs before the race can begin.

Here’s a weird way to describe this album. It’s like watching The Shawshank Redemption on AMC, or TNT, or A&E (those are cable channels for my cord-cutting fans). Anytime I used to channel surf and land on that movie, regardless of where the movie was, I could sit and watch the rest – knowing exactly what I had missed, and knowing exactly where the movie was headed. And I would enjoy it, every time. I can do the same with this album. If a track ever randomly comes up, or a Spotify algorithm sends me something it thinks I like, I can listen to the song, know exactly where I am in the album, and know exactly where we should be headed.

Since MOOGfest ’11, I’ve seen FlyLo pretty much anytime he came around. And my emotional and neurological connections to the music haven’t changed. My dopamine levels are always at all time highs and I get to leave the outside world for a bit. And hopefully, I know have the ability to introduce Flying Lotus to a new audience, as Ju did 10 years ago to me.

I think back to NotDrugs a lot. This little exercise we decided to do streamlined a lot of memories about all of the content we produced and the ambitions we had. It was meant to live the life it lived, but I always wondered if we were able to keep it on life support for the few humps after 2010, what it could have been like. Would we have been able to impact the culture outside of the college bubble like we always wanted? How would our perspectives have changed on what we wanted it to be, and would new perspectives have been added to keep our finger on the pulse?

It’s hard to speak for Chris, or any of the other cohorts, but to me, it seems like NotDrugs was never just NotDrugs. It could have always been anything we wanted it to be. We made it what it was, just as a new group of folks have come together, sifting through the ashes, and coming out with some shit that they want to do.

I guess MSSC is NotDrugs.

[jasonheart1]

Who are they? Broncos defense looks to find out

ENGLEWOOD, Colo. -- That's not us.

The Broncos defense insisted their preseason opener provided a false cameo as the Vikings gashed them for 135 first quarter yards. Against, the Bears, the Broncos stood firm, pitching a shutout in the first 15 minutes. And yet, no starting pass rusher owns a sack. Bradley Chubb netted a safety, but Denver has yet to corral the quarterback with its fearsome foursome of outside linebackers. 

And now on the eve of Washington game, the final dress rehearsal of the preseason for top players, it's time for the defense figure out "Who are They?"

"We want to find our identity as a defense. Every team does something well. We are trying to see, are we   a run-stopping defense. Can we rush the passer well and get off the field on third down?" linebacker Shane Ray told Denver7. "We need to play our best and find out our identity as a defense."

The Broncos built this group to create havoc. But let's be honest, this crew has changed dramatically over the last two seasons. Gone are stalwarts Aqib Talib, T.J. Ward, Malik Jackson and Danny Trevathan. The Broncos forged a personality of nastiness as the price of doing business. For the current group to reach its potential, it's imperative the Broncos play with a lead to unleash Von Miller and associates.

"Stopping the run is key. And putting the offense in a one-dimensional (mode) so we can rush the passer. We do have great pass rushers," coach Vance Joseph said. "But if you don't have a lead you won't ever see them come out."

The Broncos defense is expected to be at full strength save for safety Su'a Cravens, who has missed the entire preseason schedule with a sore knee. Questions remain in the secondary with the New Fly Zone. However, Tramaine Brock played well in his debut last week, showing poise, and the team believes in rookie corner Isaac Yiadom, whose development was microwaved with a team-high 58 snaps last week.

"We’re still a couple of weeks away. We just want to keep progressing. We added a little bit more to the defense this week," coordinator Joe Woods said. "We want to make sure guys go out and execute the defense and show that they understand it. As long as we keep taking steps and we get better in all of the areas in terms of first down, third down, red zone, things of that nature, that’s more important right now than worrying about Seattle at this point.”

In or out?

The Broncos ruled out multiple players for Thursday's game because of injuries, among them former Thunder Ridge star Sam Jones (back), guard J.J. Dielman (knee), cornerback Marcus Rios (leg), and lineman Andreas Knappe (concussion protocol). ... Guard Ron Leary is a gametime decision because of knee issues. Leary told Denver7 his knee "is getting there... It's taking time, but I should be 100 percent" for the season opener. That's why it would not be a shock if sits against Washington. 

Footnotes

Max Garcia has benefited from Leary's absence. Coaches continue to praise him as one of the line's best performers. He has shown new versatility, working at both guard spots and center. Garcia, on the bubble to make the team in July, appears a lock now. ... Joseph is not counting snaps, but looking for progress from the first-team units. It's expected the first-teamers will play at least the first half. ... Emmanuel Sanders continues to show out at practice. No one has had a better summer than the veteran receiver. He believes in Case Keenum. "We have a quarterback." ... Don't be surprised if Demaryius Thomas has a breakout game vs. Washington after sitting out against Chicago with a sore wrist. 

       Enjoy this content? Follow Denver7 on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram and download the Denver7 app on iOS and Android devices for continual access to breaking news, weather and sports.

Want Broncos news? Denver7 Broncos insider Troy E. Renck is your source. He talks to the players, covers the games and reports scoops on Denver7 and the Denver7 app. He is a CU grad who has covered pro sports in Colorado since 1996, including 14 years at The Denver Post. Follow him on Facebook, Twitter and TheDenverChannel.com’s Broncos page. Troy welcomes most of your emails at Troy.Renck@kmgh.com.

from Local News https://www.thedenverchannel.com/sports/broncos/broncos-defense-looks-to-find-identity-in-starters-final-dress-rehearsal

[junker-town]

NFL Dad: Watching Week 2 with sick kids and a barfing dog

Every week, one intrepid dad watches RedZone with two young children in his apartment. This week: broken bones, a fever, and dog vomit — many of which are metaphors.

My daughter broke her clavicle last week. It’s a common injury for young children, not just Tony Romo. She fell out of a chair a few minutes before we had to leave for her second day of preschool, and I didn’t think it was a serious injury at the time. “We have to go! Can’t miss the second day of school!” was my thinking. I should be an NFL team doctor.

So she’s in a sling for Week 2 of the NFL season (and for the next four weeks) while my son happily toddles around the house. Just kidding! My son is battling a 102-degree fever and an ear infection. Ha HA! Let’s watch some football!

EARLY GAMES, FIRST HALF

— In Pittsburgh, Sam Bradford is a late scratch due to his knee rejecting last week’s touchdown implant. Case Keenum will start, and if I had a bookie I would put my salary on the Steelers today. Instead, I move Adam Thielen to the bench on all three of my fantasy teams.

— I make five picks against the spread every week for Team OddsShark in the Las Vegas SuperContest. After a disappointing Week 1 (1-3-1), my picks this week are the Eagles +5.5 at the Chiefs, the Bucs -7 versus the Bears, the Broncos +2.5 versus the Cowboys, the Seahawks -14 versus the Niners, and the Lions +3.5 at the Giants.

I’m not sharing these picks publicly so that I can be held accountable as some kind of “expert.” It’s more to explain my rooting interests as the day goes on.

— The Pats score the RedZone Channel’s first touchdown of the day when Tom Brady lofts a pass for Rex Burkhead, capping a 10-play, 75-yard drive. It’s gonna be a long game for the Saints.

Hey, remember when the Saints were awesome at home? Now it’s just a place for them to score lots of points in a loss. The Patriots miss the extra point. I’m not too concerned about it affecting the outcome of the game.

— Not that I’m looking for silver linings, but my daughter is the ideal kid for convalescence. She’s enamored with books, and her linguistic learning is superior to her physical development. The day after her injury, she spent four straight hours on the couch, just sweating through the pain while my wife read her dozens of books.

Eventually, my wife cued up an episode of Sesame Street for her, which is a big deal since the only TV my kids usually see is whatever football they can absorb on Sundays. I didn’t think she retained any of that episode until this morning, when she picked up the menu from a local donut joint, held it up to her face, and went, “OM NOM NOM NOM NOM.” Cookie Monster has staying power.

— The Saints kick a field goal to cut the Pats’ lead in half. An Eagles drive stalls in the red zone and they settle for a field goal. Lots of field goals early. TOO many. I DEMAND TEEDERS IN MY PEEPERS.

— While Rob Gronkowski hauls in a 53-yard touchdown, my daughter is sitting next to me with her own keyboard. She knows the alphabet song and recognizes the letters in her name, but putting them together to make words is still in the distance.

I adjust the font on my notes document to a much larger size and type out her name and her brother’s name, saying the letters aloud as I type them. “Now Mommy,” she says. I type MOMMY. “Now Daddy.” I type DADDY. She says aloud the names of friends who’ve visited recently, and they get added in 48-point font.

All movie dialog for credulous aliens is written by someone with a toddler.

I highlight different names and quiz her: “Who’s this?” I say. She gets most of them wrong, but is fascinated by the highlighting, which she calls “blue tape.” This is one of my favorite things of living with someone with a solid base of English but almost no context for the world: highlighting is blue tape, Aaron Rodgers is the Yellow Man, and jerseys are “number shirts.” All movie dialog for credulous aliens is written by someone with a toddler.

— Tom Brady throws a touchdown to Chris Hogan on an illegal pick play that is so obvious, even your dimwitted, distracted columnist sees it. The referees pick up the flag, though, and Brady has his third touchdown of the first quarter.

Tom Brady has now thrown touchdowns to three different white guys.

— Matt Ufford (@mattufford) September 17, 2017

I’m loathe to be one of those writers who embeds his own tweets into his column, yet here I am. The response to the above tweet got every kind of reaction imaginable in America in 2017. There were genuine #MAGA responses, ironic #MAGA responses, people jokingly calling Brady racist, people accusing ME of calling Brady racist, people who pointed out that the feat was accomplished without Danny Amendola and Julian Edelman in the lineup, and people who were mad online that this was the “analysis” I had to offer.

Three thoughts on this:

If you have a visceral reaction to Tom Brady throwing touchdowns to white guys, I strongly recommend amending your worldview.

Really, I just felt bad for people who have Brandin Cooks in fantasy.

Twitter remains a cesspit of humanity.

— Joe Flacco’s arm-punt pins the Browns deep in their own territory. It’s impressive work: the pass is overthrown into double coverage. He sucks so hard.

God, that feels so good to type. Not a joke about whether he’s elite, just “Joe Flacco sucks and the Baltimore offense is eye poison.” Yeah, yeah, he had one good playoff run that led to a Super Bowl win. That makes him half as good as Eli Manning, and that dude sucks too.

— Drew Brees throws a short touchdown to ... Coleman? Who is Coleman? DAMMIT, BREES. Why must you always spread the ball to thirteen different receivers? Just run up the stats with Michael Thomas and Coby Fleener like a NORMAL elite quarterback would, you pyramid-scheming pygmy.

My theory: Brees has been in the league for so long that he’s like an adrenaline junkie who should have died in a stupid stunt years ago. “I CAN’T FEEL ANYTHING UNLESS THE RESERVE FULLBACK SCORES.” The next time RedZone clicks over to the Saints offense, Brees targets Ted Ginn on an end zone fade on third down. (Do I even need to tell you the pass is broken up?) THE MAN IS PERVERSE.

— Mike Glennon, previously seen fumbling the ball to his former team, throws a pick-six to put the Bucs up 24-0. I have closed the book on “Mike Glennon Revenge Game” and opened a file for “Mike Glennon, Buccaneer Sleeper Agent.”

— A dry affair in Kansas City spring to life: a Darren Sproles fumble leads to a Chiefs field goal just before half, and the Eagles appear unlikely to respond with barely any time on the clock. But Carson Wentz’s long pass down the sideline bounces out of cornerback Terrance Mitchell’s hands and into Zach Ertz’s arms. Ertz sprints into the red zone and gets knocked out of bounds with just enough time to attempt a field goal.

Andy Reid calls timeout, icing Philly’s make. The second attempt sails wide, and the Chiefs enter the half with their lead intact. UGH. I hate it when icing works. If the refs can’t blow the whistle before the snap, the kicking team should choose whether the kick counts. What’s one more bad rule in the NFL’s thousand-page refereeing handbook?

— “I falled off a chair.” That’s how my daughter describes her injury, but it’s also a nice metaphor for the first 90 or so minutes of hot, wet garbage on RedZone. Three of eight games have zero touchdowns at the half: KC leads Philly 6-3, the Titans have the same lead in Jacksonville, and the Panthers are up 6-0 at home over the Bills. HOLD ON, FELLAS. Save some of this dogshit football for Thursday night!

SECOND HALF, EARLY GAMES

— Blake Bortles throws an interception, his third turnover. The Bortling is upon us! #PoopinBortles

— The Vikings attempt a fake punt — with their punter throwing — from their own 35. And what are they supposed to do? Hope that Case Keenum wins the game for them?

The Marine Corps instilled in me some adages about hope that I believe in to this day, even as I grow soft and old. One is “Hope is not a course of action,” which is something judgmental captains usually tsk-ed at lieutenants whose plans that didn’t account for every possible outcome. But my preferred saying is “Hope in one hand, shit in the other, and see which one fills up first.”

Anyway, good on Mike Zimmer for not going quietly into the Case Keenum night.

— In Jacksonville, Derrick Henry thumps it in from 17 yards out for a 16-3 lead, and the Jags have no chance to get back in this game unless they score two defensive touchdowns

— Dalvin Cook scores 26 yards out, but he’s ruled down at the half-yard-line upon review. Fullback C.J. Ham vultures the touchdown. ZIMMER!!! I regret saying anything nice about you! Go shit in your hand, you fake-punting turd.

— Chris Hogan comes up two yards short on 3rd and 9, and the Pats kick a field goal out of politeness. It’s not like the Saints were gonna stop a 4th-and-two. This one’s over.

— Hey, the Bears are in the red zone! Down 29-0, they’re the only team with no points yet today. We join them on 2nd and 10:

Josh Bellamy immediately drops a pass. The announcers note that it’s his second drop of the drive.

Kendall Wright drops a pass on 3rd and 10.

The Bears go for it on 4th:

Mike Glennon throws a five-yard crossing route to a covered receiver on a fourth-and-10 down 29 points in the fourth quarter. It didn’t work

— Bill Barnwell (@billbarnwell) September 17, 2017

This concludes Chicago Bears RedZone Theater. There will be no refunds.

— A Carson Wentz pass deflects off a helmet and gets intercepted, setting up KC with a short field. One of the things Bill Barnwell and I talked about on his podcast while previewing Week 2 was that Wentz’s tendency to make difficult, highlight-worthy plays masks his inaccuracy on garden-variety throws for an NFL starter. This would be a good example of that.

Kansas City will turn that possession into seven points, with Travis Kelce taking a shovel pass and leaping a defender to score a touchdown pass.

.@TKelce just jumped 5 yard line... And landed in the END ZONE. WOWOWOWOWOW. #ChiefsKingdom #PHIvsKC http://pic.twitter.com/TasZHdfqNS

— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017

This is a lot more like the Alex Smith touchdown pass I’m used to than the ones he threw in New England in Week 1.

The Chiefs now lead by seven with the fourth quarter more than half gone, and I’m certain my bet of Eagles +5.5 is hopeless: they’re too hapless on offense to score a touchdown, and they’ll forego any chance of a field goal that would earn them a cover. Woe is me, the first person to know less about football than Vegas bookmakers.

— My daughter (or as my wife calls her, “f***ing FDR in bed over there”) has a severe Rear Window vibe going. Since breaking her collarbone, she has:

worn pajamas all day on Friday;

worn sweatpants all day on Saturday;

only changed out of pajamas after noon today.

And yes, I stand by my reference to a 1954 film rather than acknowledge her very obvious predisposition to follow in her father’s blogging buttsteps.

— I have a lot of notes for the stuff that happens in the Bills-Panthers and Cards-Colts games, but zero inclination to give give them any kind of context or analysis. Oh, J.J. Nelson caught a long pass against Indianapolis? ALERT REUTERS, THE FANTASY OWNERS MUST KNOW.

— My son wakes up after 3-hour nap. He immediately starts housing the macaroni and cheese he was too tired to eat at lunch. After shoving three forkfuls into his mouth, he lets his jaw hang slack, and the pasta tumbles out of his mouth and into the catch of his bib. He switches to the cold pouch of vegetables and fruit.

When we only had one kid, the pre-made pouches were an issue for my wife and me — too much cost, too much waste. We blended up organic concoctions like beets and raspberries for my daughter. But two kids? POUCHES AHOY! I have 12 minutes a week to myself, I’m not spending it making hipster baby food.

Even in small doses, the Browns are too sad for my tastes. And I like Bon Iver.

— The Browns, despite getting meaningful snaps from Kevin Hogan while DeShone Kizer was sidelined earlier by a migraine (surely not football-related!), have the ball in the red zone and the chance to make it 24-17 with more than 11 minutes left. Kizer, though, throws a pick in end zone.

I root for the Browns for approximately five minutes a week while watching RedZone, and it’s STILL too sad for my tastes. And I like Bon Iver.

— The Panthers are up 9-3 (woof) with a minute left, but the Bills are driving. Tyrod Taylor is moving the ball well. The Bills let clock burn instead of using a timeout. On 4th and 11, an open Zay Jones lays out for the catch at the 1-yard line and … drops the ball.

It a brutal way to lose. But also: maybe score more than three points before the final drive?

— Kareem Hunt scores another TD, this one hard-fought in heavy traffic, and that should do it for the Eagles.

bae caught me scorin http://pic.twitter.com/IPSVczIc1N

— SB Nation GIF (@SBNationGIF) September 17, 2017

— My next note is simply “Carson Wentz is trash,” but I no longer remember the context. You’ll have to take me at my word.

I suppose this is unfair to Wentz, who’s only in his second year. But I’m sorry: my notes are my notes, and what I write down while possibly distracted by my children and/or seven other games happening concurrently is etched in stone. The man is ginger cheesesteak feces, and there’s nothing I can do about it.

— Hey! The Bears are on the board with 1:43 left. RED LETTER DAY. Who scored? I don’t know, don’t care, and wouldn’t remember if you told me.

— Bortles TD to Hurns! Garbage time is Bortles time, baby! Use the transitive property!

The greatest QB in NFL history is "Blake Bortles down 27 points."

— Frank Schwab (@YahooSchwab) September 17, 2017

Bortles was 11-of-25 for 89 passing yards the entering 4th quarter. He went 9-of-9 for 134 passing yards in the final period. #Vintage

— Mike Kaye (@mike_e_kaye) September 17, 2017

— The Cards are backed up on their own 12-yard line with just under three minutes left with the game tied 13-13, but a long catch-and-run takes them to almost midfield. They are DEFINITELY winning this unless Carson Palmer can throw a back-breaking pick.

But no, they punt. And Colts can’t do anything either; they punt back. The specter of overtime is terrifying. The NFL shortened OT to 10 minutes this offseason, but the REAL solution is one they’ll be too chickenshit to ever make: let a tied game at the end of regulation just be … a tie. Save overtime for the playoffs, when you actually NEED a winner.

I’m serious. I don’t understand why so many Americans (a) think every sporting contest MUST have a winner, and (b) consider this attitude part of their national identity. Is it because our wars keep going to overtime?

Anyway, another successful kicker icing (UGH) leads to overtime, but thankfully Tyrann Mathieu immediately intercepts Jacoby Brissett, setting up the field goal that ends this horrific game.

— Nelson Agholor’s first catch of the day is a meaningless touchdown with 8 seconds left that pulls the Eagles to 27-20.

But then Philly recovers the onside kick! There’s a chance for the Chiefs to blow a 14-point lead in 8 seconds! This would be EXTREMELY Chiefs-y.

Alas, the Hail Mary is tipped out the back of the end zone. I realize that if the Eagles had made the 30-yard field goal at the end of the first half, they would have covered. (*shakes fist at sky*) GAMMMMMBLINNNNNNNG!

LATE GAMES, FIRST HALF

— Forget Cowboys versus Broncos. Ignore my Seahawks in their home opener. The only thing I care about is Miami-Los Angeles. Dolphins-Chargers. CUTLER VERSUS RIVERS, HELL YES BABY. It’s exactly like Marino versus Fouts, if all their arm talent was transferred to their faces.

The Chargers have failed to fill an MLS stadium that’s half the size of the smallest NFL arena, and ... is there a hot take here? Did we not see Dean Spanos brazenly screw over San Diego to move the Chargers 100 miles north to a city that already didn’t want the LAST team that moved there?

Carson, California has all the charm of the docks, minus the ocean breeze.

Do y’all know where Carson is, by the way? It’s inland from Long Beach, so it has all the charm of the docks, minus the ocean breeze. Its main draw is an IKEA. Remember the exurban factory blight-hole from the second season of “True Detective”? Carson’s not exactly that, but it’s not NOT that, either. No Angeleno is just gonna drop in on the Chargers this season.

— In Oakland, Marshawn Lynch is back doing what he does best: making the most interesting 3-yard carries in the NFL. The man just inflicts pain on a defense. On third-and-one, he bursts through line, breaks a tackle, and picks up 13 yards.

It’s his first game playing for his hometown team in front of his hometown crowd in the last season they’ll play in his hometown. I hope he scores a hundred touchdowns.

But on first-and-goal from 2, Derek Carr throws a fade to Crabtree. He pulls down the jump ball, and the box was stacked against the run, but I’m still sad for Lynch. In the other room, my daughter is crying, and I want it to be about the Raiders’ play-calling.

— There’s not much you can do about a broken collarbone besides put it in a sling and wait for it to heal. But a sling is a choking hazard for kids, so the doctor recommended that we pin my daughter’s pajama sleeve to her belly at night.

This is an excellent technique, if you want your child to sleep in a bed with open safety pins. After two nights of her thrashing her arm free, we let her sleep unrestrained. She chooses to lie on her injured right shoulder. I’m convinced this will deform her.

— FLEA FLICKER! I love flea flickers, even if the defense never bites on them quite the way I wish they would. This one isn’t all that impressive in terms of results, but check out the hustle Lynch puts into pass blocking after he pitches it back to Carr:

Flea-Flicker Alert! #RaiderNation http://pic.twitter.com/rSEx6IYAsw

— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017

This is gonna be a Marshawn Lynch propaganda column every week, and I’m not sorry about. I’m more enthusiastic about Beast Mode here than I am about my own children.

— Russell Wilson has converted three third-and-longs and a fourth down on Seattle’s first drive, but the Seahawks stall out a few yards from the end zone. The telecast has already shown a LOT of Pete Carroll working his gum furiously. On third-and-goal, Doug Baldwin swats away what might otherwise have been an interception. Seattle kicks a field goal.

— Emmanuel Sanders scores a touchdown on a ball perfectly lofted past three defenders to put the Broncos up 7-0.

Defenders everywhere. But it doesn't matter. This @TrevorSiemian to @ESanders_10 TD pass... #BroncosCountry http://pic.twitter.com/HOdRWX0Ztj

— NFL (@NFL) September 17, 2017

— I have to care for my son while my wife and daughter go next door to borrow a cup of flour. C.J. Anderson breaks three tackles to explode for a long run. Want more details? Sorry, my son has wandered into the other room, holding the baby monitor to his ear like a phone.

— A Bobby Wagner interception leads to another Seahawks field goal after another Seahawks stall in the red zone. Did Jimmy Graham get an end zone target? No, why would they do that? Wilson DOES throw a third-and-goal pass to Tanner McEvoy, though, who drops the touchdown. And it’s easy to see the Seahawks’ logic: at six-foot-five, McEvoy is shorter than Graham, but also not as good.

almost like tanner mcevoy hasn't caught 20 total passes since he left high school

— Field Gulls (@FieldGulls) September 17, 2017

I’m not one of those fans who roots for coaches to be fired. That’s why I want all of the coaches responsible for Seattle’s offense to be dropped into an active volcano.

— Lots of red at the Coliseum in support of Washingto — wait. No, sorry, those are just empty seats. Lots of empty red seats.

— I will probably never say this enough (in this space or in real life), but my wife is the hero of this column, of Sundays, of my whole life. If you put me in charge of two toddlers for a day, I will throw them bricks of pre-made food until help arrives and I collapse across the finish line.

But here’s my wife, holding our 16-month-old in one arm while she helps my daughter (herself one-armed) make individual pizzas with the other. There are not enough arms for this work. I take my son and put him in my lap while I type.

He’s fussy from being sick, so I hold him in my arms and cuddle him. Washington is up 10-0 and driving at will, but my son is staring into my face from four inches away. I am definitely breathing in his death-virus. His bright blue eyes are light near the pupil, ringed by a royal blue on the outside, like my father’s. He stares and I stare back, lost in the moment. He lets out a low, rippling fart.

— Disregarding petty things like rooting interests and outcomes, Jay Cutler is my favorite player in all of football.

Jay Cutler slinging a Hail Mary 20 yards out of bounds cracked me up http://pic.twitter.com/erbIPVVkQf

— Mike Renner (@PFF_Mike) September 17, 2017

He just gets me.

— Hey, Marshawn Lynch gets an actual carry on first-and-goal! It goes for zero yards. Crap, here come the end zone fades.

But no! Lynch gets the ball on second down, too. He’s hit immediately, and somehow breaks two tackles in the backfield to gain a yard or two.

On third-and-goal, the Raiders hand it to Lynch again, and he bursts up the middle for an easy score. FEED THE BEAST, YOU CRAVEN PASS-HAPPY COSPLAYERS.

— Even though it’s time for dinner and his bath, my son, groggy with exhaustion, goes down for a nap. My daughter rejects her pizza because part of the crust got stuck to the pan. All of her food must be WHOLE. You should’ve seen the tantrum I weathered because I cut her sandwich in half once. You could have seen it; it happened in public.

— Jimmy Graham is helped off the field after an apparent knee injury. On one hand, I’m stricken with concern. On the other is all of the world’s sarcasm, packed more densely than a neutron star. “Well gosh! Now he can’t do all that nothing for the Seahawks offense!”

Luke Willson, next up on the depth chart, immediately gets three targets. By the end of the game, my molars will be smooth like a stone shaped by the ebb and flow of millennia of tides.

— Carlos Hyde breaks off a 61-yarder to put San Francisco in the red zone, but c’mon: we know this won’t be a touchdown. Michael Bennett sacks Brian Hoyer on 3rd-and-six, and eschews his usual hip thrusts to raise a fist in protest.

Michael Bennett celebrated a sack against the 49ers with a raised fist. http://pic.twitter.com/J46niolm4G

— SB Nation (@SBNation) September 17, 2017

My daughter, now eating her pizza, raises a black power fist in solidarity. She’s gonna turn out all right.

— Todd Gurley hurdles over a defender; a few plays later, Jared Goff dumps it to Gurley on a blitz for 28 yards. I write “these teams are trash” even though they’re both far more entertaining than MY trash team, which has allowed San Francisco to get back in the red zone after the Niners got a huge play by running a draw play on third-and-12.

This sport is bad. The Niners and ‘Hawks go into halftime tied 6-6. I think about taking the Seahawks -14 today. “Maybe the defense will score a touchdown,” I lie to myself.

LATE GAMES, SECOND HALF

— I’m facing Jay Cutler in fantasy (it’s a deep league) and I can’t bring myself to root against him. But then, I never root for Cutler’s success or failure: I only root for him to be himself, and that is all he ever is, and that is why he’s never disappointed me.

Devonta Parker makes a tremendous catch down the sideline to set up first-and-goal, and then Cutler is himself. He overthrows a receiver in the end zone, then gets sacked on third down by Melvin Ingram (The Chargers lead the league in Melvins). The Dolphins kick a field goal to take the lead.

— Oh hey, Broncos and Cowboys! It’s the first quarter in this game after a weather delay. Forgot about y’all for a while there.

— Cordarrelle Patterson gets a handoff for the Raiders on 3rd-and-1 around midfield, and he takes it to the house. With his braids and visor, he looks like a very tall and disappointing Marshawn Lynch who is slowing down before the end zone. If Lynch did this, I would celebrate his swag. But it’s Patterson, so I chalk it up to him being a lazy draft bust. I’m an enlightened fan!

— Trevor Siemian gets sacked and fumbles, and the Cowboys recover inside the Denver 5-yard line. What happens next? My neighbors borrow two tablespoons of olive oil, my son gets up from his nap, and my daughter out of the bath running around naked. (Dez Bryant scores a TD, I think.)

— My son is mostly a nonverbal little chimp, but when I ask him, “How’s the pizza, buddy?” he responds, “Good.” I glimpse a future where he’s not communicating by pointing at things and grunting at me, and one of the million tiny weights of parenthood is lifted from my shoulders.

— With Eddie Lacy already a healthy scratch for the Seahawks, Thomas Rawls starts the second half on bench. Chris Carson looks good on three straight runs, and if you have any Seahawks on your fantasy team, I can only remind you: you did this to yourself.

— Jalen Richard scores for the Raiders on a 52-yard rush. I’m happy for them, but I also have an interest in Marshawn’s fantasy success, and these waiver-wire dildos are feasting on the defense that Beast Mode wore down. I DEMAND SATISFACTION, SIRS.

— Another Todd Gurley hurdle (GURDLE), this time for a TD:

Be careful out there, folks. Todd Gurley might be hurdling you as you read this. Head on a swivel!

— My son is walking around, now using a Wii remote as a phone. My daughter throws Magna-Tiles, earning a timeout. NEVER THROW MAGNA-TILES. They are Daddy’s most cherished toy. Seriously, I could build Magna-Tile structures for HOURS if we just had some more of them. Each individual square is like $30.

— Crabtree catches his third touchdown (the Raiders’ sixth). There are still 12-plus minutes left in the 4th quarter, but you know the saying: the game’s over when Marshawn dances on the sideline.

— RedZone has stopped showing Niners-Seahawks altogether, and I respect the decision. I follow the play-by-play on Twitter. Russell Wilson sails two throws on a 3-and-out. I close Twitter.

In the other room, my wife is reading Someday to my daughter, a book with such an emotional punch I sobbed the first time I read it to her — just ugly-crying, gasping for air. My wife and I can now read it without losing our faces, but it still makes me feel like I’m missing out on valuable family time. I pause the TV so I can help with bedtime.

— 7:14 pm: Kids are in bed, and I’m about 25 minutes behind realtime. Emmanuel Sanders catches his second touchdown, and my wife is lying down on our new shag carpet, looking at Instagram. Every day after the kids go to bed, we look at our phones for 10 minutes before engaging each other.

Regarding the Broncos, though: Trevor Siemian is … good? He takes what the defense gives him, throws it away when there’s nothing there, and distributes the ball well to his weapons.

— Cody Parkey puts the Dolphins up 19-17 with 1:05 to play. Rivers is gonna throw a pick, isn’t he?

Not to start, at least. His first pass is a “bullet” — please note the sarcasti-quotes — to Keenan Allen for a first down, then he finds hunter Henry, then Melvin Gordon, then Allen again. Keenan Allen is such a good route-runner; he’s a ton of fun to watch when he’s not inju— (*Allen loses his legs in a freak combine harvester accident*).

What happens next is perfectly befitting a Jay Cutler-Philip Rivers game.

What happens next, in the game’s final seconds, is a comedy of errors perfectly befitting a Jay Cutler-Philip Rivers game. I refuse to hash out the details, but the gist is this: the Chargers try to blow the game with a stupid decision, but the Dolphins bail them out by calling timeout. So Younghoe Koo comes out for the game-winning kick — and for once there will be no icing, because the Dolphins can’t call timeout twice in a row.

And a week after missing a kick that would have sent the game into overtime, Koo ... misses another kick. Oh no. Oh my darling, flipping boy. DON’T CUT HIM, THE FIRST KICK WAS THE LINE’S FAULT.

Scott Hanson, usually happy to direct the viewer to the next bit of action, takes the time to LAMBASTE both teams, saying they’ll both regret their “debauched” decisions. Hell yes. 10/10, best game of the day.

— With the Seahawks (ugh) trailing (UGH) 9-6 (UGH!!), Russell Wilson runs for a first down on third-and-one. There are 10 minutes left in the game and it somehow feels over? Or maybe I just want it to be over? I crave the end of this game and/or the sweet kiss of death.

Touchdown, Seahawks! Wilson evades a hungry pass rush on third-and-seven, rolls to his left, and finds Paul Richardson in the end zone. It’s Seattle’s first touchdown of the season, and it only took them an hour and 52 minutes-plus of game time. Certainly this is a Super Bowl contender, and not a critically flawed team.

Blair Walsh misses the extra point. Niners trail by three. Of course.

— A Jonny Hekker fake punt! The Rams may not have Jeff Fisher around to call the all-fake-punt offense, but they still know who their best player is.

Wait, why am I watching the Rams? I hit fast forward.

— Jamaal Charles gets a carry for the Broncos, who are cruising at altitude. It’s still weird to see him in a Broncos uniform. There should be government subsidies to pay star running backs to stay with their defining teams.

— After a Niners three-and-out, Chris Carson picks up a couple first downs on the ground, and the Seahawks are going to kneel this one out.

My dog starts gagging over the rug. NO! The whole reason we got the new rug is because she barfed on the old one too many times. As she horks, I chase her away from the rug, and she vomits on the hardwood floor instead. She’s a Rottweiler mix, and even as 65-pound dogs go, it’s a lot of vomit.

But I’m thankful, I guess. Cleaning a liter of dog barf off of a hardwood floor instead of out of a shag carpet approximates what I just what went through with Niners-Seahawks. God was a little heavy-handed with the metaphor, but I can at least appreciate the timing.