#just look into the eyes of flamingos and you can see the dinosaur

[monarchbutt]

whenever i can't picture dinosaurs existing i just humble myself by looking at birds alive today. what the actual fuck is that thing

[writer-room]

Siblings: Chapter Four

AO3

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Summary: The Bats reflect on how their thoughts about siblings have changed over the years. Some opinions stayed, others didn't.

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Tim didn’t know how to feel about being an only child.

He didn’t think about it all that often, there weren’t many kids he talked to at school who mentioned their siblings all that frequently. And, in some parts, he didn’t mind it so much.

The kids who did talk about siblings complained, whether their siblings were older or younger. There were those who said their sibling took up more of their parents attention, which was something Tim was already lacking in. Some said that they never had any time to themselves, something that Tim had an overabundance in, but still cherished. Others said that the accomplishments, and failures, of their siblings reflected onto them, making their parents expect more or less of them. Tim couldn’t afford that either. His parents already didn’t think much of him, he didn’t need it to be any less. And if they wanted more, he worried he wouldn’t be able to meet their expectations.

And yet…

Sometimes he liked the idea of someone else in that empty mansion. Someone to talk to when the rooms felt too large, when the loneliness was suffocating him. He liked the thought of sharing his recent theories, photos, and the like with someone. Wondered if he could go on for as long as he wanted without being interrupted.

Maybe they’d be someone who didn’t call him by a name that wasn’t his, then feign forgetting. Who didn’t treat his binders like they were assaulting their eyes. Who didn’t scrutinize his every movement for faking.

That’d be nice, he thinks. 

But there were pros and cons, he reasons. And for all he knows, if he had a sibling, they could’ve been just like his parents. Or they could’ve been kinder. Not like he’d ever know.

He had more important things to worry about than hypotheticals and wishes.

“Before you scold me, know that I took a five hour nap earlier today and I’m only getting a snack.”

Steph and Duke blinked at him from the doorway to the kitchen, their expressions a sharp contrast between exasperated and concerned, respectively.

“Wow, five hours?” Steph snarked. “That’s a new record. Are you dying?”

“Not yet,” Tim said, opening the fridge. “Give it a few weeks and I’m sure you’ll see rumors of my tragic defeat at the hands of, I dunno, Flamingo.”

“There’s a supervillain named Flamingo?” Duke exclaimed, staring at Steph incredulously.

“Oh, yeah, it’s a whole thing.” She nodded. “He had a scuffle with Jay and his kid a while back.”

“Jason has a kid?”

“Why are you up, anyway?” Tim talked right over him. “Duke I understand, he’s the disgraced child of the sun. But you patrol at the same time as every other nocturnal person in this house.”

“Hey-”

“I actually had to pretend to have a normal sleep schedule, my mom was getting worried and I didn’t want her finding me sneaking in with my full Spoiler getup on.” Steph explained tiredly. “I’m still trying to recover.”

“Tragic,” Tim hummed, pulling out a container holding a ham sandwich. 

“The only thing that's tragic is your outfit.” Steph snorted, looking him up and down.

Tim blinked, looking down at himself. His outfit consisted of a pair of knockoff Batman shorts, knee-high pastel dinosaur socks, and a long red robe that absolutely did not belong to him hanging loosely off him, exposing countless scars littering his body.

“I look awesome,” Tim said, popping the lid off the container. 

“Damian’s gonna start asking what battles you got your scars from again,” Steph tutted, striding further into the kitchen with a confused Duke following her. “Know that I will not be on your side when Dick notices and gets worried.”

“I’m more worried about Dami seeing this one,” He said, brushing the robe back slightly to reveal a poorly stitched surgical scar on his upper abdomen. “Because then he’s going to ask what happened, and then I’m gonna have to tell him that's where my spleen used to be, and then he's going to be reminded that oh, yeah, his brother has a missing spleen, and then he’s going to be treating everything like its diseased-”

“Does...he keep forgetting you lost your spleen?” Duke blinked, concerned. “I feel like that’d be something you were kinda always aware of…”

“Eh, everyone's worried about a different scar whenever they see ‘em.” He shrugged, glancing down as he traced over one of the surgery scars along his chest. “Which is frankly a little rude. I earned this right to be shirt free.”

“Hell yeah you did,” Steph grinned before her eyes dropped to the sandwich Tim was attempting to eat. “Isn’t that Cullen’s?”

“He didn’t label it, therefore it’s mine.” Tim said simply.

“Harper’s gonna kill you,” Duke warned warily. 

“Only if she catches me,” He said, taking a bite of the sandwich. “Why’re you guys here, anyway? Grabbing a snack?”

“Lookin’ for Babs,” Steph said, hands in her pockets. “Someone on Twitter started a war about which Batgirl was better, and Babs will probably get a kick out of being remembered as the ‘missing Batgirl.’”

“Oh she’ll be pissed about being remembered that way.” Tim agreed, shoving the rest of the sandwich in his mouth. “Babs will see it in five minutes or less, though. Swear she has a sixth sense for whenever someone mildly associated with the Bats is mentioned.” He mumbled.

“You wanna hijack the thread before she finds it?” He suggested.

“Hijack it?” Duke echoed.

“We’re gonna yell about random stuff that doesn’t contribute to the conversation until all hell breaks loose.” Steph explained, already pulling out her phone. “Tim?”

“How do you feel about discussing why the sun lightens hair, but darkens skin?” Tim suggested, leaving the container on the counter as he brushed by Steph.

“You just want to piss off someone from Metropolis.”

“It’s law as a Bat that I have to torment Superman whenever I possibly can.” Tim shrugged.

“Does that include me?” Duke blinked. “Because I personally think tormenting Superman is a bad idea.”

“Clark wouldn’t hurt a fly,”

“Yeah, but he’ll give me the face of disappointment and I don’t think I can live with that.” Duke protested.

“He can barely even manage--where are you going?” Steph looked up, only now realizing Tim was leaving the kitchen.

“I’m starting the mayhem on the big screens.” Tim grinned, looking back over his shoulder.

“Please don’t tell me he’s going to use Twitter on the bat computer,” Duke sighed.

“He’s totally going to use the bat computer,” Steph smiled, following after him. “C’mon! It’s initiation time.”

“Do you guys just call every weird thing you do initiation?” Duke called, hurrying behind them. “Because I’ve been told I’m part of an initiation five times in the last week.”

“You’re stuck in initiation until this becomes the norm,” Steph said cheerfully. 

“Of course,” Duke muttered.

Tim’s robe billowed behind him like an amateur cape as he wandered towards the door leading towards the steps into the Batcave. He threw open the door, the sound of it slamming echoing and startling the bats on the ceiling.

“Jesus!”

Harper jumped from the swivel chair in front of the computer, wide-eyed as she blinked up at the trio at the top of the stairs.

“Hey, Harps,” Steph greeted, hopping onto the stairs railing and sliding down. “We’re here to cause problems on Twitter.”

“Oh, well, in that case, by all means.” Harper snarked, getting up and grandly gesturing to the countless screens. “Not like I was using it for actual work.”

“Were you using it?” Tim asked, pointedly glaring at Steph to keep his recent adventure to the kitchen quiet.

“...looking for tasers to modify count as work, right?” She said after a moment.

“Technically,” Tim nodded,  ignoring Steph’s smug look that absolutely signified she was going to blackmail him later. “But you can just use Dick’s old escrima sticks. He goes through a pair every two or three weeks, but most still work pretty well, he’s just too lazy to fix them.”

“Sweet,” Harper grinned. She then paused, taking in Tim’s appearance as he slid into the seat she was previously occupying. 

“Why do you look like you’re auditioning to be the pretty girl who dies in a low-budget slasher?”

“First of all, how dare you assume I wouldn’t be the first one to die for representation points,” Tim said, pointing an accusatory finger at her. “Second of all, it’s called having fashion, and also being allowed to do whatever I want.”

“You have terrible fashion sense,” Harper snorted, crossing her arms as Steph and Duke came up beside her. “But fair, I can respect that.”

“See?” Tim said, looking at Steph. “Some people can afford to not be rude.”

“Keep talking and I’ll lose more blackmail material,” Steph calmly threatened.

Harper glanced between the two, to which Tim quietly, and quickly, turned back to the screen and ignored the both of them. Harper raised a brow but didn’t comment. Tim made a mental note to sneak into one of Jason’s unused safe houses after this was over. Steph couldn’t keep quiet for the life of her.

“What are you starting, anyway?” Harper asked, crossing her arms and leaning on the back of Tim’s chair. “A sob story about the Opportunity rover?”

“Another day,” Tim promised, opening up Twitter on the countless screens. He opened another one on the other half of the computer, which Steph quickly stood at and got her own Twitter set up. “Right now, we’re questioning how the sun makes hair lighter, but skin darker. And we’re dragging Clark into it.”

“If anyone asks, I had no part in this.” Duke said, watching the two typing with a frown. “Initiation doesn't include learning how to taunt Superman, right?”

“Eh, we can settle for you becoming close with a Kryptonian,” Steph shrugged. “Dick and Bruce share Clark, Jay’s got Bizarro, Cass and I got Kara, Babs I think counts with her, too, Damian’s got Jon, and Tim has Kon.” She listed off.  “Harper and Cullen took the ‘bully Superman’ route without befriending any of his family, which is a coward's way out, so you can take, I dunno, does Chris still exist in this timeline?”

“I can call in a favor from Bart to reset the timeline again so he exists.” Tim said with a casual shrug, pulling up the thread arguing about the Batgirls. 

“I’m sorry, what--”

“Finding Kryptonians who aren’t already taken is hard!” Harper protested, talking over Duke. “And Clark likes you guys being friends with his family. The only issue he has is Damian getting testy and Tim making heart eyes at Kon every five minutes.”

“I do not!” Tim squawked, whirling around in the chair to glare at the traitors he dared call family. In his head. Family in his head.

“You do,” Steph and Harper chorused.

“I’ve met Kon for less than twenty minutes and even I know.” Harper added. “I’m sure Duke knew.”

“I...yeah…” Duke coughed into his fist and turned away. “But in my defense, the gossip around here is practically shouted down the halls twice a week.”

“You were subjected to Dick having another crisis about Jay dating Kory for two months, weren’t you?” Steph said, trying to hide a snicker.

“There were so many things I didn’t want to know,” Duke whispered, face horror-stricken. 

“Eh, at least Jay hasn’t brought up Talia around Dami yet.” Tim shrugged. “At that point, it’s better to just vacate the premises.” 

“Wait--”

“Point is, you either befriend the Kryptonian or you torment them. That’s the rules.” Tim talked over him again, scrolling down the thread and boredly looking over the arguments. “You ready, Steph?”

“As I’ll ever be,” She grinned, giving a thumbs up. “How long till Babs notices and takes this whole thing down?”

“Few more minutes, tops.” Tim shrugged, already typing. “You two wanna give any input?” He asked, glancing behind him to Harper and Duke.

“Ask if Kryptonian skin can be used as extreme sunscreen,” Harper suggested. “That’ll rile him up.”

“Now I’m just curious if it can,” Tim said, but obediently began making his comment.

“You could just...ask?” Duke tried, clearly not taking in any of what was happening.

“Nah, Kon’s half human, I don’t think it works the exact same.” Tim shook his head, not looking back. “Kara would destroy me if I tried, Bizarro has the same problem, Jon wouldn’t know, and Clark would start telling Bruce he’s worried I’m deranged again.”

“Aren’t you?” Duke raised a brow.

“Only if I feel like it,”

“And when he forgets to sleep for ninety-eight hours.” Steph spoke up.

Tim rolled his eyes, tuning out his siblings as they continued to talk. He posted his comment before sparing a peek back at them, currently throwing off ideas to their hijacking plan like it was an everyday occurrence. Well, to Steph and Harper at least. But, to Duke’s credit, he appeared to be getting more used to it on prodding from his...sisters? Hard to tell, Steph was her own classification of family member. They were some weird choices for family, at least.

Tim watched them for a moment before turning back to making another comment on the logistics of sunscreen, a smile on his face.

He couldn’t find it in him to complain. Too much, at least.

[gwoongi]

lovely ᵕ̈♡˳೫˚∗ (02)

jeon jeongguk / reader genre: boyfriend au words: 3744 warnings: crack humour, a liddol bit of fluff, slight suggestive sexual content, jeongguk and y/n being chaotic lowkey & five year old jeno being an actual savage... a/n: happy 2 see such a great response to the lovely couple with part one !!!!!! pls continue to luv and support them (♥ó㉨ò)ノ (pls see series parts on my masterlist!!)

➸ Jeongguk and Y/N play Mom and Dad for a little bit.

Jeongguk could cry. He could quite honestly, genuinely, whole-heartedly cry, right here and right now in the middle of his living room, surrounded by mess and feathers from the bedroom pillows.

He loves kids, don’t get him wrong- my God, he loves kids, and loves how kids can make a house feel like a home, how kids say some really fucking weird things; but, Jeongguk finds that kids are a lot of hard work. He has half the heart to call his parents and say sorry urgently, because children are like tiny spawns of Satan, demons wanting to cause chaos at every corner.

The last time Jeongguk and yourself were given the mission of looking after your niece and nephews, they were much smaller, and therefore easier to look after. All they did was sleep, and cry when they were hungry or needed to pee or poop, and were perfectly content doing absolutely nothing all damn day. Now, three years later, when your sister and her husband are going on a small self-care vacation to Spain, Jeongguk removes himself from the situation to observe the situation, which in description is the view of his living room completely ransacked and bustling with life, crazed children dashing around at full speed, like Mario Kart characters using the star. 

It’s so overwhelming that he actually doesn’t even know what to say. When the fuck did they get so hard to look after?

Whenever your niece and nephews came over to visit, they clung to Jeongguk like moths to lamplight. You never knew why. Jeongguk was fun, and easy to get along with, and perhaps his kind-hearted nature was universally loved by all ages. Even when they were babies and newborns, they settled with Jeongguk, staying silent and googly-eyed whereas in your arms they screeched, like banshees or dinosaurs swinging in trees. You couldn’t fault them; Jeongguk was irresistible, maternal almost in the way his voice changed around the kids, the way he laughed at their weird jokes and forced himself into pretend roles, like the mean villain coming to take over their Playmobil hospital.

Eight a.m, that’s when they arrived. Jeongguk had got up at six, eager and anxious, already cutting up salad bowls made up of apple slices and watermelons. Over an overly bitter cup of tea, you heard him ask, “wait, can three year olds eat watermelon?”, and you glared at him to resist the urge to respond with something that may well hurt his feelings.

“I usually like to put them to bed at about eight, but they won’t go to sleep even if you force their eyes closed, so just be firm with them,” is what your sister had said, frantically trying to detach a clinging boy from her leg. Jeongguk blinked owlishly, standing behind you in the hallway as you followed behind her wordless. Maybe Jeongguk didn’t know what firm meant. Raising your voice and being stern with little tiny precious angelic creatures? Never.

(1)

“Y/N, I’m sorry, but you’re boring.”

Five year olds can be blunt and mean. You now know this to be a fact, because the eldest of the four just said that to you, his hands on his hips with his lips in an unamused pout. He stands by the window, one foot on the Playmobil ambulance and the other on his leg like a flamingo.

“What? Why, what did I do?” you ask, confused and honestly, slightly offended. Jeongguk sits off to one side petting the hair of the youngest, his secret favourite because she’s not quite old enough to ask questions or complain.

“That’s what I mean, you’re not doing anything,” he huffs. “You’re supposed to be the bad police officer.”

“There’s no such thing as a bad police officer,” you try to tell him. You pause, realising you’re wrong but also realising that you’re not advised to get political with a five year old, especially one who still thinks the tooth fairy is a real thing. “I’m trying to be realistic.”

“You suck,” comes his reply. Jeongguk snorts, shrugging when you glance at him angrily.

“Stop, you know I’m your favourite Aunt,” you say to him sweetly.

Your nephew, sassy and honest little Jeno, pulls a face and sits back down with a huff, snatching the ambulance off the carpet to thrust the small man inside. “You’re my only Aunt, Auntie Y/N.”

Right.

The not-so-bad-police-officer gets snatched away from you seconds later and you decide, with finality and assertiveness, that you’re done with playing pretend with them. You lift yourself up off the floor, crouching over to take Yeji away from Jeongguk’s arms. Jeongguk pouts, his eyes blown wide as he watches the baby being lifted away from him and towards you.

“Uncle Jeongguk can be the villain,” you suggest, making Jeno forget how uncool you are as he launches into an enthusiastic cheer, followed by his siblings who are making noise just because he is. Jeongguk stares at you, pleading. “Anybody hungry?”

“No thanks, Auntie Y/N,” Jeno replies.

“Oh, do we have animal crackers?” asks Sanha politely, and you nod, taking his hand as you walk towards the kitchen, where a neatly packed bag sits on the counter where you left it when the four little monsters came by your apartment this morning. 

Jeongguk lets his body slump as he realises he has nowhere to run, no excuses to pull up, and he positions himself on all fours to get the police officer miniature and indulge in Jeno’s futuristic fantasies of a police officer murdering hospital patients. Honestly, sometimes you have to respect a child’s morbid creativity, even when it scares the living hell out of you.

(2)

“Y/N, did you move Jeno’s inhaler?”

“No, why?”

Jeongguk appears in the doorway to the kitchen, scratching the back of his neck out of a nervous, absent-minded habit. His eyes are glued to the four children in the living room.

“They’re running around a lot, I don’t want Jeno to lose his breath and have an attack,” Jeongguk explains, meanwhile you rummage around in your sister’s handy dandy travel bag and search for the tiny blue inhaler. Jeongguk braves looking away from them and instead over to you, “if it’s not in there, it’s fine, I’ll check the bathroom again.”

You hum, searching blindly. “Yeah, it’s not here, baby. Check the cabinet under the sink, I’m eighty nine percent sure that it’s in one of those plastic boxes.”

Jeongguk’s eyebrows push up in amusement: “Jeno’s life is counting on this eighty nine percent.”

“The more you question me, the less confident I get. Check the bathroom,” you reply, shoving a baby carrot into your mouth as you follow Jeongguk out of the kitchen, opting to watch the kids while he rummages around in hordes of bathroom mess. While Jeongguk hurries into the hallway to check the bathroom, you step out into the living room and pause comically.

The four kids seem perfectly happy, loud and obnoxious and covered in a thin layer of white feathers, bleeding from one of the pillows mangled on the floor. Without context, this looks like a murder scene, with crayons broken and split around the floor and the couch throw on the floor next to the Playmobil set, and you’re half praying on everybody’s behalf that those pillows arent the ones from the master bedroom, because you’re pretty sure you don’t have any spares laying around for later.

“Found it,” Jeongguk returns a few minutes later, holding the small inhaler in his hands. After taking a second out of the room, when he comes back he doesn’t quite know what to say. “The mess wasn’t my fault.”

You frown, your hands on your hips. “I know. Maybe you should put on a movie, keep them entertained for a bit so they don’t completely trash our house.”

Jeongguk chews the inside of his lip. “Is it cheating if we call over Seokjin to help? He’s always on kiddie pool duty, he’s better with kids than we are.”

“You’re so good with kids, shut up,” you say to him, gently smacking his arm. “They love you.”

So, he huffs. Stealing a kiss from you, he gently pushes you backwards and then steps across the room, expertly mindful of the landmines of lego on the floor as he grabs Jeno and moves him away from the coffee table, to sit on the couch next to his siblings while Jeongguk retreats to the movie box, filled with animated films that the kids go absolutely bonkers for. You hear the start of an argument over which Disney movie to watch first as you return to the kitchen, chopping up vegetables that, secretly, you know will make you the ultimate uncool Aunt.

(3)

“I hate carrots.”

“You do like carrots.”

A gag. “Vegetables! Yuck!”

With one hand, you rake through your hair, staring tiredly at Jeno and Jaemin as they fuss over the food on their plates. And it’s not even like you wanted to give them carrots! You’re just following the note left for you in the bag, with the instructions of an actual parent being your law. Jeongguk sits at the other end of the table, twirling his fork around his food as he watches, feeling increasingly guilty.

It’s hard being an Aunt, especially hard being the uncool Aunt. He knows it’s just a joke, just something the kids say because you’re looking out for them, and he frowns, looking around the table.

“I’m allergic to carrots,” Jeno says suddenly.

“Don’t lie,” you tell him, aeroplane feeding Yeji who seems to be the only baby present who appreciates your efforts. She laughs and squeals as the spoon of food comes towards her and that makes you smile, animated sound effects as she eats it.

Jeno pouts, “It’s true.”

“Your Mom told me to feed you this, don’t hate me,” you say to him, making your own pout which he, as a stubborn five year old, ignores. “Come on, eat all your food and you can have pudding afterwards. I’ll let you have two slices of cake instead of one.”

He feels tempted. “Can I leave the carrots?”

“No. Carrots will make you super strong,” you explain. “Uncle Jeongguk ate carrots when he was a kid and now he’s real strong, look!”

Jeno glances at Jeongguk, who smiles for effect and encouragement. “Auntie Y/N is right. I hated carrots too, but I wanted to be big and strong so I ate all my vegetables.”

A groan of sadness comes out of Jeno’s mouth. At this point, Jaemin is convinced, wolfing down his carrots that he actually doesn’t hate after-all, considering they’re gone in a matter of seconds. Sanha seems unbothered about the entire thing, quietly eating his food because he knows that he wants that additional slice of cake, even if Jeno is going to refuse it, he is not!

Before you can have a mental breakdown at the dinner table, Jeongguk leans over slightly and looks at Jeno with a gentle and wide-eyed expression, child-like, engaging. “Did you also know that all the good kids on Santa’s nice list eat vegetables?”

Mid-mumble, Jeno freezes, looking at Uncle Jeongguk. “Really?” Intonation, his voice is so high.

Jeongguk nods. “Mhm! Santa said that if you eat your veggies and say thank you to whoever made you the meal, he’ll bring you anything you want on Christmas Day. Don’t you wanna be on the good list?”

Jeno nods furiously. “Yep! Uncle Jeongguk, that’s so cool, you know Santa!”

Eh...If it works. Jeongguk doesn’t argue or disagree as Jeno quickly finishes his plate without protest, seemingly fine at the end considering he just said he was allergic. As he scoffs down the contents of his plate, you look over at Jeongguk and silently thank him, slumping as if suggesting that you were tired. He grins, knowing the feeling.

(4)

Splash.

“Careful, honey, don’t get the floor all wet.”

“Sorry, Auntie Y/N. It was the ducky’s fault!”

Bath time is a chore, surprisingly harder than it was when they were babies and needed extra attention in the water. Sanha sits solo in the bathtub, the sound of Jaemin and Jeno running around in the bedroom an ambience as you crouch by the tub and help Sanha get clean. Yeji is the only child clean and patient, so calm and cute and cuddly and ready to go to sleep the second her bathtime is over. Jeongguk groans somewhere in the apartment, keeping the twins entertained while Sanha finishes up.

“O-kay,” you say, after a few minutes of helping wash away some suspicious chocolate stains off his arms. Most likely super-cool-Uncle-Jeongguk gave them something extra after dessert, and honestly, that wouldn’t surprise you if it were true. “All done! Feel better?”

Sanha nods, letting the duck float away. “Yep. I’m cold.”

“Once you’re dry and changed, we can put on the heating and finish up watching Cars, does that sound okay?”

“That sounds fun, Auntie Y/N! You’re the bestest,” he grins, and you grin too, because honestly, you’re taking coolness points in gasps, and anything to prove you’re not some grouchy unfun Aunt is welcomed and encouraged. Sanha doesn’t make a fuss as he gets dried, shuddering for extra effect and happily snuggling into his duck onesie once everything is dry and ready for him to get changed.

Sanha is a human rocket. He hops into his onesie and races back into the living room, reaching his final destination of Uncle Jeongguk as a loud groan fills the house, likely due to the fact that Sanha has jumped on top of his Uncle, like he always does, just to get the reaction. You sniff, leaning to flush the toilet because apparently they haven’t quite mastered that one yet, and drain the bathtub. The floor sits wet, pooling like an extra tub or the floor of a shower and you sigh, grabbing an extra towel off the rack to soak up the bathwater, the low bubbling sound of the water disappearing briefly out-yelling the terrorsome three out in the living room.

“Need any help, baby?”

Behind you, Jeongguk appears in the doorway, not quite in and not quite out. He hovers, waiting patiently to see if he can find an excuse to stop being a couch for the three kids. You lean over the bathtub, taking out their small toys and setting them on the side with hopes that they will dry overnight.

“Nah, I’m okay,” you tell him, looking over your shoulder with a smile. Jeongguk stands there, having changed, in an oversized jumper and sweats. “What are they doing?”

“Fighting,” Jeongguk says. “I’d break it up, but I wanna see if they’ll learn their lesson once they get hurt.”

“That’s perfect. But fucked. Are we fucked up?”

Jeongguk shrugs. “Worked for me and my brother when we were younger. I turned out okay!”

You look at him for a moment with a bewildered look. “Sure, if that’s what you want to call it.”

The bathtub makes a gurgle, the water gone and you crouch to pick up the bathmat, hanging it over the small radiator for it to dry faster. Jeongguk then takes several steps backwards as you meet him outside, his smile widening as you close the door and turn off the light, falling into his arms with a soft thud and sigh. His arms wrap around you sweetly, warm and tight, like home. Jeongguk likes weekends for the moments he gets to spend with you, but today, he’s barely seen you in his own home. Longing- Jeongguk tightens his arms around you and presses his lips to the crown of your head, gently swaying you from side to side like a waltz. He knows you feel the same way, the same kind of tired and wanting energy, as your arms lock around him tighter.

“Come on,” Jeongguk mutters, pouting slightly when you pull out of his embrace and glance up at him through your eyelashes. He exaggerates it, humming, and then leaning to press his lips to yours. Moments after he pulls away, he comes back in for another, and another, his hands molded behind your back. “Love you,” he adds in between one kiss, and you hum in reply. It’s enough.

There’s a pitter-patter of feet. “Ewwww! Auntie Y/N and Uncle Jeongguk are having sex!”

You pull away from Jeongguk with such speed that it might give you whiplash; Jeno stands looking slightly horrified in the hallway, near the door to the living room, proud of his rising of ews that follow from his siblings near the TV.

“Don’t say that! Where did you even learn that word?” you gasp, moving towards the five year old.

Jeno shrugs. “Heard it at Mommy’s birthday party. Uncle Taehyung said it.”

You sigh knowingly. “Should have known.”

“Please don’t go around saying that when your Mom and Dad come to get you,” Jeongguk adds in, looking flustered from behind you.

That wouldn’t be the most impressive thing to hear when you walk through the door to collect your kids.

(5)

The bathroom light switches off. Jeongguk closes the door and rubs his face, groaning out aches from his shoulders as he approaches the bed, shirtless, his toes curling into the carpet.

“I swear they weren’t that crazy last time we looked after them,” Jeongguk says, sinking onto the bed. “Have they always been like that? Am I the crazy one?”

“It’s this scary thing called growing up,” you reply, sitting back against your pillows with your phone in your hands, the screen lighting up with new messages from your sister. “Can’t believe you got them to go to sleep without any trouble. It’s giving me baby-fever…”

“I’m gonna - I’m gonna have to ask you to slow down,” replies Jeongguk, sounding winded.

“Everytime you hang out with them, it just proves to me how good you are with kids, and how, you know, someday you might be a Dad and- ugh, you’re gonna be great,” you sigh, followed by Jeongguk grunting with amusement and shuffling to lay right beside you, his nose on your arm. You set your phone down, turning to match together against him like a puzzle. “They’re not shy when it comes to picking favourites. God, they really hate me.”

Jeongguk rolls his eyes, “No, they don't. They love you- you’re so good with looking after them. If I was doing all this alone, there’s no doubt I’d probs forget to feed them at dinner time. I’d straight up order a pizza and forget that kids need certain foods to grow up.”

Laughter suffices as a reply, and that’s that for a little bit. In his head, Jeongguk wants to talk all about how great of a Mom you’ll be, how amazing it would be for him to watch you raise children, his children. He doesn’t say any of these things, because he’s one-hundred-percent certain that you know it all already, and that you’re just modest and insecure about it. So, Jeongguk hums and pulls you closer for a hug, smooching your lips when you’re close enough.

The door is closed. The four kids are sleeping, Yeji so deep in sleep that not even her brothers could wake her up if they screamed. Jeongguk knows this. You know this. So, he moves his hand from your back to your ass, feeling the curve, feeling the smile against his teeth.

“Stop, our niece and nephews are next door,” you warn him, quietly, mumbles against his mouth. Jeongguk smirks, gently nipping your bottom lip with his teeth and pushing his head into your neck.

“And it would suck to wake them up,” Jeongguk replies, worming his way into places hot and inviting. “So, keep it quiet, yeah?”

You huff, rolling to your back and parting your legs as Jeongguk slots in between. “I love when you get bossy on an evening,” you say to mock him and he laughs quietly.

“I love you,” he breathes, and you don’t get time to reply.

He knows, though.

(6)

“And they were good?”

Jeongguk and yourself share a glance.

“Golden,” you say.

Your sister stands in the kitchen, giving you both the stink eye while the three older kids race around the house, excited at the fact their cool parents are home three days later. Honestly, she knows you’re lying, because these are her kids and she knows them better than anybody.

Anyway, she shrugs. “They must always be good for you guys. You can babysit more often.”

Jeongguk tenses in his seat. He loves these kids but, holy fuck, the thought of looking after them again so soon makes him want to throw up. If there is one thing Jeongguk has learnt from looking after three wild rampaging children and one angelic princess baby- but, again, he has no favouritism!-, it’s that it is absolutely harder than it looks.

It’s not enough to put him off though.

When the house is emptied of tiny humans and is left cold and quiet and a little bit messy, Jeongguk stoops to pick up left behind piles of mess on the floor and he finds himself smiling. Now that he thinks about it, it was actually kind of fun. Being a Dad for the day. Then he thinks about being a Dad one day. His eyes find you across the room hauling the hoover out of the storage cupboard and his heart does somersaults.

(7)

[5:45pm] Mean Sibling #1: Tell me why Jeno is talking about how you and Jeongguk had sex [5:46pm] You: OMG THATS NOT TRUE [5:46pm] You: well, i mean… [5:46pm] You: not in front of them !!!! what kind of aunt do you think i am????? [5:49pm] Mean Sibling #1: How does he even know what sex means….how does he know that word [5:50pm] Mean Sibling #1: Hyo is laughing at me. what does my husband know that i don’t [5:52pm] You: that sounds like a you problem [5:54pm] Mean Sibling #1: ok well sorry for accusing you :P gotta give my FIVE YEAR OLD a talk….dear fucking god [5:59pm] Mean Sibling #1: wait a damn second wtf do you mean NOT IN FRONT OF THEM??? [6:00pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N ANSWER UR PHONE [6:01pm] Mean Sibling #1: Y/N [6:03pm] Mean Sibling #1: fucker

[winchesterbrotherstan]

SPN- Olive the Birthday Kid

Pairing: Olive Winchester (OC)

Summary: After a rough time hunting, the siblings take the day off and have fun for Olive’s birthday.

Warnings: maybe two lines of being sad, a gun,,,, that’s it??? me??? writing a fic without???? curse words???? wild??

Word Count: 2258

“Olive.” It was a whisper.

I groaned and kept my eyes shut.

“Olive, come on. Wake up.”

I only groaned louder.

“Come on, bug. Time to get up.”

“No.” I mumbled, snuggling further into the motel bed.

Sam peeled the blankets back and lifted me out of the bed. I squirmed around in his arms, and he dumped me back on the bed.

“We’ve gotta go, bug. Come on.”

“What?” I asked, rubbing my eyes.

“It’s your birthday.” Sam smiled softly.

“Oh.” I yawned into my hands and blinked. “Can I go back to bed?”

“No. Come on, get changed. We’ve got plans.”

I sniffed. “Why?”

“Ollie.” Sam cupped my face. “Just get dressed. Your clothes are on the table. We’ll be waiting in the car.” He kissed my forehead.

He left the motel, closing the door behind him. I glanced around and sighed. All of our stuff was gone. They must’ve packed up while I was still sleeping. We were only a mile and a half from the Roadhouse, but I had begged Dean to take us somewhere else. They were nice, but they weren’t my family, and I didn’t want to spend my birthday with them.

I yawned again as I stumbled out of the bed. The boys had left a yellow flannel, a black t-shirt, and a pair of ripped jeans on the table. I yawned again as I quickly changed. I put my glasses on, tucked my boots under my arm, and shuffled out of the room.

“Morning, pumpkin.” Dean grinned from his perch on Baby’s hood.

“Hi.” I mumbled as I hugged him, dropping my weight onto him.

“No shoes?”

I shook my head. He chuckled.

“Alright, come on.” He pushed me off and guided me into the car.

“What about breakfast?”

“We’ll get something on the road.”

“How long are we gonna be on the road?” I asked.

Dean and Sam shared a look. Dean shook his head with a smile on his face, and Sam let out a small snort.

“A couple hours. Just go back to sleep, we’ll wake you up for food.”

I yawned again. “Okay.” I dropped my glasses on the dash and laid down, snuggling into Sam’s lap.

My feet landed in Dean’s lap, and Sam ran his fingers through my hair. I went back to sleep.

                                                          ***

“Ohh, can we see the giraffes first? Wait no, the wolves!” I squealed, looking between my two brothers.

Dean ruffled my hair. “We can do whatever you want, kid.”

I barreled straight into him, wrapping my arms around his waist. He kissed the top of my head, and I pulled away, turning to hug Sam.

“I love you guys.”

“We love you too, bug.”

“Alright, come on, let’s go see the wolves!” I grabbed each boy by the hand and tugged them to follow.

                                                         ***

We bounced all over the zoo. We went from wolves to giraffes, and back to the snow leopards.

“Should flamingos really be in a zoo though?” Dean asked. “That’s like putting a squirrel in a zoo.”

I giggled. “No it’s not.”

“Nah, they’re not native to North America. They’re from warmer places.”

Dean hummed, chin resting on my head. The flamingos were far from the fences, all in the water and staring right back at us.

There was a group of three of them with their backs to everybody else. One was tall, one was normal sized, and the third was short. I snorted.

“It’s us.” I pointed.

Sam and Dean smiled.

“Happy birthday, Olive.”

                                                         ***

“Hi, Bobby!” I smiled as the door swung open.

Jinx ran into the house, zipping past our feet. Bobby smiled.

“Happy birthday, girl.”

I fell into the hug with a soft sigh.

I miss Dad.

I bit back the tears that came out of nowhere, threatening to spill.

Me too.

“Dean, I got the things you needed. It’s all in the kitchen.”

“Awesome. Thanks, Bobby.” Dean grinned.

“Thank you so much, Bobby.” Sam hugged Bobby after I was let go.

I followed Dean into the kitchen and cleared my throat, eyes burning. He turned and instantly noticed, coming to me and grabbing my shoulders.

“Hey, sweetpea. What’s going on?”

“I miss Dad.” I mumbled.

He sighed. “Come here, baby.”

He pulled me into a hug and I buried my face into his chest, struggling not to sob. He rubbed my back and began to hum.

Hey Jude.

I snuggled further into him. Mary sang that to him when he was younger. Dean kissed the top of my head as we swayed back and forth in the small kitchen.

“Hey.” Sam’s voice was soft as it floated in the air. “Everything okay?”

Dean nodded, and a hand came off my back before quickly coming back. Then Dean was pushing me slightly, and Sam was there to hug us both. I wrapped an arm around each boy and leaned my head into Sam as Dean continued to hum.

I still missed Dad, but I felt more at peace.

This is our family.

                                                         ***

“I can’t believe you’re already sixteen.” Sam sighed as Dean brought a plate of burgers to the table.

“I know!” I grinned. “I’m practically an adult!”

Bobby snorted. “You’re a baby.”

Dean sat down next to me with a smile. “Just a little baby. Alright, guys, dig in.”

“Did you… make these?” Sam asked, eyeing the burgers.

Dean nodded, and my mouth began to water.

“You cooked for me?”

“Yeah, it’s your birthday.” Dean shrugged as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

“I love when you cook.” I gave him puppy eyes.

He rolled his eyes, but he couldn’t suppress the huge smile on his face. I was the first to pick a burger off the plate, and Sam and Bobby soon followed. Dean tore a burger into little pieces and dropped them onto a spare plate. He put it down and whistled. Jinx came running and licked the plate clean. Dean took a swig from his beer and then grinned as he held it out to me.

I eyed it, then looked up at him. His smile remained. I looked over to Sam, confused. He shrugged.

“Come on, you’re sixteen. It’s like a rite of passage.” Dean shook the bottle.

I hesitated before taking the bottle and raising it to my lips. I cringed. It smelled bitter. Dean grinned wider. Bobby’s face was blank.

“Okay, okay, don’t watch me, jeez!” I whined.

The three men broke into laughter, and I took the chance to take a swig. I couldn’t help how my face wrinkled up and I frowned. I slammed the bottle back down in front of Dean and made a beeline for the kitchen, spitting it out in the sink.

Dean was wheezing from the other room, Bobby was cackling, and Sam was chuckling as he came my way.

“You okay, bug?”

I shook my head. “That’s so gross! It’s so bitter!”

He laughed and patted my back as I continued to spit over the sink. “It’s okay.” He handed me a glass of water. I took it and gargled, then spit it back out.

He rubbed small circles on my back. “Alright. You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah. Better now.”

                                                         ***

“No, no, no!” I whined, curling into Sam’s side. “No gifts!”

“I’ll throw this at you.” Dean threatened, holding the small rectangular box like a football.

“No!” I begged, hiding my face in Sam’s shoulder.

“Alright, alright. Here.” Dean knelt in front of me and held the box out like a soldier holding a sword.

I squinted at him with a smile on my face as I gently took the box. Jinx whined from beside Dean on the floor, as if the tension were killing her.

“Why do you get to go first?” Sam huffed.

“Because I’m the oldest.” Dean stuck his tongue out.

I whacked his head, then hit Sam’s leg. “Hey! No fighting on my birthday.”

“Sorry, Ol.” They both smiled.

“Alright, come on, come on!” Dean grinned. “Open it.”

I smiled and held the box in my hands. The paper had cartoon dinosaurs all over it, and my smile grew wider. Dean nudged me and I tore the paper off in a frenzy, then flipped the box cautiously in my hands. It was regular cardboard, and it wasn’t too heavy, but I could feel whatever was in it shifting. I squinted at Dean as I slowly opened the top. I held my hand out and slid the box toward it. A pair of glasses with round frames and a matte red color fell into my hand. I looked up at Dean with puppy eyes.

“I love them.”

“They’re special. You should be able to see spirits.” He smiled.

“What?” My eyes went wide and my jaw dropped.

“We scorched them in holy oil. It’s supposed to work, but it might not.” His head tilted.

“We?” I repeated as I replaced them and blinked, trying to get used to the difference.

“Bobby helped.” He whispered. “Can you see at all?” He teased.

I grinned. “They’re perfect, De. Thank you.” I threw my arms around his neck and sighed deeply.

He held me and rocked us back and forth. “Happy birthday, baby.”

“Okay, my turn.” Sam tugged me off of Dean with a smile.

“Okay, okay.” I sat back on the couch, crossing my legs and facing him. “Whatcha got, Sams?”

He held out a small box with the same wrapping paper. “This is for you, jelly bean.”

I gently took the paper off the box and Dean scoffed. I giggled. “This box seems delicate!” I defended myself.

He rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah, whatever.” The smile on his face was huge.

I tossed the paper Dean’s way, and it landed on the floor in front of the couch. I pulled the lid off the box to see a silver ring. It was formed like an olive branch. I felt my throat begin to close up as I looked at Sam with the same puppy eyes I had given Dean.

“Sammy…”

“Look at the inside of it.” He grinned.

I gently pulled the ring from the cushion and flipped it around.

Bug was engraved in his, surprisingly neat, handwriting. I slid the ring onto my pointer finger and threw myself at Sam. He caught me in a hug, laughing.

“Thanks, Sams.” I whispered, arms tight around his neck.

“Anything for you, baby girl.”

“Hey, Ol. Bobby’s got something for you.” Dean shook my knee.

I pulled away from Sam and frowned at Bobby. “You didn’t have to get me anything. You’re letting us use your house.”

“Don’t be an idjit, girl. Take the present.” He held a shoe box out toward me.

I took it with a smile and pulled the lid off. I let out a cackle and Sam stared at me. Dean leaned forward to see what was in the box and sighed. 

A Beretta 92FS. It was black, but the pistol grip was white with pastel flowers all over it. I placed the box down carefully and got to my feet, running for Bobby.

“It’s lovely. Thank you so much.” I hugged him.

“It was your daddy’s idea.” He whispered. “He got it custom ordered when you started hunting. He was gonna give it to you today.”

I stepped back, stunned. The idea of the gun now made me feel sick. Then Dean was behind me and pulling me into his chest with a soft humming. I snuggled into him for a second, then pulled away, recomposed. Bobby was gone now.

“I got you two something too.”

Dean turned to deadpan at Sam. “She learned this from you.”

Sam grinned and I smiled. “It’s something for the three of us then. It’s like… a three-” I motioned between the three of us. “Thing.”

“Yeah, sure.”

“Alright, hold on. It’s in the kitchen.”

I skipped my way to the kitchen and pulled the brown paper bag from my own duffel. I slowly pranced back to my brothers and smiled. I pulled the long box out first and set it down on the couch, between the two of them. I grabbed the smallest box and held it out to Sam with a smile.

“This one’s yours.”

I pulled the last box from the bag and held it under my arm. I folded the bag back up and tossed it in Dean’s lap as I gave him the box.

“That’s for you.”

Sam had opened it and was staring. His was a silver ring. I had found a place that made jewelry with whatever pattern you wanted. It was a big circle, with a medium one a bit off to the right and lower, and a tiny circle linking the two, at the bottom. Dean clasped his bracelet on with a smile. Jinx jumped onto the couch and made herself comfortable in Sam’s lap.

“It’s us.” I explained as Sam slid the ring onto his own pointer finger. “The big one’s Dean, you’re the middle one, and I’m the tiny one.”

“I love it. You make the design yourself?”

“Yeah.” I pulled the necklace from the long box and turned to Dean. “Can you help me?”

“Yeah, turn around.” He pushed my hair out of the way and looped the chain over my neck, clasping it shut in the back. “There ya go.”

“That way we’ve always got each other.” I smiled as I leaned back into the couch.

They both smiled at me, and I let out a breath.

This is our family.

Previous Ep: Simon Said (2.05)

Next Ep: No Exit (2.06)

[tjkiahgb]

You said that dyscalculia was nicely represented in show, but it wasn't. It was mostly wrong like yeah like symptom of dyscalculia is mistaking numbers, but it isn't totally not to be able to see difference between 12 and 21.

I said that about the longer, more in-depth storyline from season two, which was as much about dyscalculia as it was about learning disabilities in general and why people who have them shouldn’t feel inferior because of them.

I’ve also said on here that you cannot be expected to get even most of the information on a topic through television, that it’s up to people to research things further, but that television can be a great way to just introduce new ideas to people, which is what TJ’s dyscalculia storyline did.

Look, the science they used in Jurassic Park is mostly or almost entirely wrong. Does it matter? No, not really. You fudge things in storytelling all the time. The writer of the book and the producers of the film did so they could tell a good story. One, more importantly, that had a lot of interesting themes and ideas about science that we can still debate to this day. So if you sit there and watch the movie and go, “Well, they couldn’t really clone dinosaurs that way,” or “Dinosaurs don’t really look like that, they look more like giant chickens,” then you’re missing the forest for the trees.

Could Jonah really learn the guitar as well as he did after like an hour long lesson with Bowie? Not really. Could Buffy solve all of her basketball team’s problems just by telling them to open their eyes? Not really. Could Andi assemble the “Trashing Stereotypes” art project by herself in the middle of the school in the time we’re supposed to believe it took? Not really.

You have to allow for poetic license. The storyline in 3.08 was about Jonah and TJ being able to open up and discuss with each other things about themselves that they had previously been unable to openly discuss because of shame. That was the larger point of that story. That and don’t hold grudges.

And also, some people have a fear of flamingos. It’s a very real thing. Look it up.

[upontheshelfreviews]

Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general. And if I may be self-indulgent for a moment, it’s also one of the reviews that I’m the proudest of. Fantasia is a visual, emotional masterpiece that marries music and art in a manner few cinematic ventures have come close to replicating. One question that remains is what my thoughts on the long-gestated sequel is –

…you might wanna get yourselves some snacks first.

As anyone who read my review on the previous film knows, Fantasia was a project ahead of its time. Critics and audiences turned their noses up at it for conflicting reasons, and the film didn’t even make it’s budget back until twenty-something years later when they began marketing it to a very different crowd.

“I don’t wanna alarm you dude, but I took in some Fantasia and these mushrooms started dancing, and then there were dinosaurs everywhere and then they all died, but then these demons were flying around my head and I was like WOOOOOAAAHHH!!”

“Yeah, Fantasia is one crazy movie, man.”

“Movie?”

Fantasia’s unfortunate box office failure put the kibosh on Walt Disney’s plans to make it a recurring series with new animated shorts made to play alongside handpicked favorites. The closest he came to following through on his vision was Make Mine Music and Melody Time, package features of shorts that drew from modern music more than classical pieces.

Fast-forward nearly fifty years later to the golden age known as the Disney Renaissance: Walt’s nephew Roy E. Disney surveys the new crop of animators, storytellers, and artists who are creating hit after hit and have brought the studio back to his uncle’s glory days, and thinks to himself, “Maybe now we can make Uncle Walt’s dream come true.” He made a good case for it, but not everyone was on board. Jeffrey Katzenberg loathed the idea, partly because he felt the original Fantasia was a tough act to follow (not an entirely unreasonable doubt) but most likely due to the fact that the last time Disney made a sequel, The Rescuers Down Under, it drastically underperformed (even though the reasons for that are entirely Katzenberg’s fault. Seriously, watch Waking Sleeping Beauty and tell me you don’t want to punch him in the nose when Mike Gabriel recalls his opening weekend phone call).

Once Katzenberg was out of the picture, though, Fantasia 2000, then saddled with the less dated but duller moniker Fantasia Continued, got the go-ahead. Many of the sequences were made simultaneously as the animated features my generation most fondly remembers, others were created to be standalone shorts before they were brought into the fold. Since it was ready in time for the new millennium, it not only got a name change but a massive marketing campaign around the fact that it would be played on IMAX screens for a limited run, the very first Disney feature to do so. As a young Fantasia fan who had never been to one of those enormous theaters before, I begged and pleaded my parents to take me. Late that January, we traveled over to the IMAX theater at Lincoln Center, the only one nearest to us since they weren’t so widespread as they are now, and what an experience it was. I can still recall the feeling of awe at the climax of Pines of Rome, whispering eagerly with my mom at how the beginning of Rhapsody in Blue looked like a giant Etch-A-Sketch, and jumping twenty feet in the air when the Firebird’s massive eyes popped open. But did later viewings recapture that magic, or did that first time merely color my perception?

We open on snippets from the original Fantasia…IN SPAAAAAAAAACE!

It reminds me a little of the opening to Simply Mad About The Mouse, where bits of classic Disney nostalgia fly about to evoke the mood of this upcoming musical venture. In a clever conceit, snippets of Deems Taylor’s original opening narration explaining Fantasia’s intent and music types plays over the orchestra and animators materializing and gearing up for the first sequence, which jumps right into –

DUN DUN DUN DUUUUUUN – I mean, Symphony #5 – Ludwig Van Beethoven

Here, a bunch of butterflies flee and then fight off swarms of bats with the power of light – I can’t be the only one who saw these things and thought it was butterflies vs. bats, right?

It does look cool with its waterfalls and splashes of light and color bursting through the clouds, but this brings me to a bit of contention I have with the movie.

When I planned this review I was going to do a new version of “Things Fantasia Fans Are Sick of Hearing”, except there were only four major complaints I could think of that. On further introspection, I admit they are legitimate grievances worth addressing. I’m going to get them out of the way all at once in order to keep things rolling.

#1 – This Seems Familiar…

Certain sequences are noticeably derivative from the first movie. It’s as if they were afraid of trying too many new things that would alienate audiences so they borrowed from their predecessor in an effort to say “Hey, we can do this too!” Symphony #5 is clearly trying to be Tocatta and Fugue with its abstract geometric shapes swooping all over to kick things off. Though I love how much character the animators managed to give two pairs of triangles, Tocatta’s soaring subconscious flights of fancy leaves me more enthralled. Carnival of the Animals literally began as a sequel to Dance of the Hours until the ostriches became flamingoes. And Roy E. Disney openly stated he wanted the last sequence, The Firebird Suite to have the same death and rebirth theme as Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, which they got, right down to a terrifying symbol of destruction emerging from a mountain to wreak chaos.

‘Sup, witches?

#2 – Too Short

Speaking of repeating the past, the original idea for Fantasia 2000 was to follow Walt’s vision in that three favorite segments would make a return amongst the newer ones – the Nutcracker Suite, which was eventually cut for time, Dance of the Hours, which I’ve already stated morphed into Carnival of the Animals, and finally, The Sorcerer’s Apprentice, the obvious choice to keep since that’s the most popular piece out of any of them. Cutting things for time doesn’t make that much sense, however, when you realize that Fantasia 2000’s runtime is only 75 minutes. A very short animated film by today’s standards that lasts barely half as long as its previous installment. I don’t see why they couldn’t keep at least one other sequence from the first Fantasia to make things last a little longer and keep in the original idea’s spirit.

#3 – All Story, No Experimentation

Unlike the first Fantasia, all of the sequences have a linear narrative structure that’s easy to follow. Not a bad thing and kudos to you if you’re among that group who prefers Fantasia 2000 for because of that, but again, I admire how the original film didn’t stick to a coherent story the whole time; how it was unafraid to let the music, atmosphere, and visuals speak for itself without sticking to a three-act plot and designated protagonist for every piece.

#4 – The One You’ve Been Waiting For, The Host Segments

One of the things that turned Fantasia off for its detractors was Deems Taylor’s seemingly dry narration. But maybe Fantasia 2000 can fix that with some folks who are hip and with it, perhaps a wild and crazy guy or two…

Eh, he’ll do.

Now, the idea of varying segment hosts isn’t an altogether bad idea. Most of them work well: Angela Lansbury gives the lead-in to the Firebird Suite plenty of gravitas befitting the finale, as do Ithzak Perlman, Quincy Jones, and James Earl Jones, who build plenty of intrigue for Pines of Rome, Rhapsody in Blue and Carnival of the Animals respectively; this seriousness makes James’ reaction to what the Carnival segment is really about a successful comic subversion. Even Penn and Teller for all their obnoxiousness kind of works with The Sorcerer’s Apprentice due to the linking magic theme.

I suppose what turns people off is the self-congratulatory tone and seemingly forced attempts at comedy you get from Martin, Penn, Teller, and Bette Midler. But you know what? They still make me laugh after all these years (well, you have to laugh at Bette Midler’s antics or she’ll come after you when the Black Flame Candle is lit). In fact, I have to hand it to Midler’s intro in particular. Fantasia 2000 came out right around the time I began taking a keen interest in what animation really was and how it was made. For me, her preceding The Steadfast Tin Soldier piece with tidbits about Fantasia segments that didn’t make it past the drawing board was like the first free hit that turned me into an animation junkie (plus this was before you could look up anything on the topic in extraneous detail on the internet, so it had that going for it). If I have to nitpick, though, The Divine Miss M referring to Salvador Dalí as “the melting watches guy” is a bit reductive. That’d be like calling Babe Ruth “the baseball guy” or Walt Disney “the mouse and castle guy”. Plus, Dalí and Disney were close compadres with a layered history. They planned on many collaborations, though the fruit of their labors, Destino, would not be completed in either of their lifetimes. Couldn’t show just a modicum of respect there, Bette?

Ahhh! I take it back! Don’t steal my soul!

So, I wouldn’t say I hate or even completely dislike the host segments. Sorry to disappoint everyone who was hoping for me to rip into them. They’re not awful, just uneven. And if you think they ruin the movie for me, you’ve got another think coming.

Pines of Rome – Ottorino Respighi

The idea for Pines of Rome’s visuals came about due to an unusual detail in some concept art. Someone noticed that a particular cloud in a painting of the night sky heavily resembled a flying whale. So why make a short about flying whales? The better question would be why NOT make a short about flying whales? A supernova in the night sky miraculously gives some whales the ability to swim through the air over the icy seas. Again, seeing this in IMAX was incredible. There’s just one minor issue I have with. This and another segment were developed well before Pixar made its silver screen debut, and unfortunately, it shows twenty years later; the worst cases are the close-ups.

Okay, who put googly eyes on the moldy beanbag?

There are ways of blending CGI and hand-drawn animation well, and this isn’t one of them. I understand the necessity of having expressive eyes but simply dropping one on top of a CGI creature gives it a bit of an uncanny valley feel. They should have either stuck with traditional all the way or made the whales entirely CG. The CG animation of the whales themselves isn’t too shabby, so they could have pulled it off.

Because simply giving whales flight apparently isn’t enough to hold an audience’s interest, we have an adorable baby whale earning his wings, so to speak. Once he gets his bearings above the surface, he swoops ahead of his family and bothers a flock of seagulls. They chase him into a collapsing iceberg, leaving him trapped, alone and unable to fly. The quiet dip in the music combined with the image of this lost little calf adds some genuine emotional weight to this piece. The baby navigates the iceberg’s claustrophobic caverns until he finds a crevice that elevates him back to his worried parents. From there a whole pod of whales rises out of the ocean to join them as they fly upwards to the supernova’s source.

“So long, and thanks for all the krill!”

As the music reaches its brilliant crescendo, the whales plow through storm clouds until they reach the top of the world and breach through the stars like water. It’s an awe-inspiring climax of a short that, flaws and all, reminds you of what Fantasia is all about.

Majestic.

Rhapsody in Blue – George Gershwin

The music of jazz composer George Gershwin? Timeless. The art of renowned caricaturist Al Hirschfeld? Perfection. All this brought to life with the best animation Disney has to offer? It’s a match made in heaven. Eric Goldberg, who animated the Genie among other comedic characters, idolized Hirschfeld and drew plenty of inspiration from drawings, so getting to work alongside him while making this was nothing short of a dream come true. That attention to detail in rendering Hirschfeld’s trademark curvy two-dimensional style goes beyond mere homage. It is a love letter to a great artist that encapsulates everything about him and his craft, and to a great city that we both had the honor of calling home. The story goes that Goldberg screened the final product for Hirschfeld shortly before his 96th birthday and his wife told him after that it was the best gift he could have ever received.

All this to say I am quite fond of this particular short, thank you very much.

The piece follows four characters navigating 1930’s Manhattan and crossing paths over the course of a single day:

Duke, a construction worker torn between his steady, monotonous job and following his dream of drumming in a jazz band,

Joe, a victim of the Great Depression desperately looking for work,

Rachel, a little girl who wants to spend time with her parents but is forced to attend lesson after lesson by her strict governess,

and “Flying” John, a henpecked husband longing to be free from his overbearing wife –

And her little dog too!

By the way, John is modeled in name and in looks after Disney animation historian John Culhane, who also was the inspiration for The Rescuers’ Mr. Snoops, hence why the two look so similar. He’s not the only name who appears in this sequence: Gershwin himself makes a surprise cameo as he takes over Rachel’s piano solo halfway through the story.

Speaking of, my family used to compare me to Rachel because at that point in my young life I was doing or already did the same mandatory activities as she – swimming, ballet, music, sports, all with the same amount of speed and varying degrees of success.

No one can argue that art is where we both excelled, however.

The physical timing of Rhapsody in Blue’s animation is hilarious, though it doesn’t rely wholly on slapstick for its humor. The sight gags and clever character dynamics all weaved into the music milk plenty of laughs, and envelop you in this living, breathing island that is Manhattan.

I speak from experience, this is the most accurate depiction of commuting on the 1 train that there ever was.

Even with such a premise and two masters of combining comedy and art, there is still enough pathos to keep the story rooted. Take when all four characters are at their lowest point. They look down on some skaters in Rockefeller Center and picture themselves in their place fulfilling their deepest desires. Seeing their dreams so close in their minds and yet so far away while paired with the most stirring part of the score is heartwrenching.

In the end, things pick up as the characters unwittingly solve each other’s problems. Duke quits the construction site, leaving an opening for Joe to fill. Joe accidentally snags John’s wife on a hook and hauls her screaming into the air, allowing him one night of uninhibited fun at the club where Duke performs.

“Anyone hear something? Nah, it’s probably just me.”

Rachel loses her ball while fighting with her nanny, which Duke bounces off the window of her parents’ office, which in turn gets them to notice their daughter about to run into traffic and they save her. Everyone gets their happy ending and it ends on a spectacularly glamorous shot of Time Square lit up in all its frenetic neon glory.

And not a single knockoff costumed character hitting up tourists for photos. Those were the days, my friend.

If you haven’t guessed by now, I adore Rhapsody in Blue. It’s easily my favorite part of the movie; a blissful ménage-a-trois of art style, music and storytelling, and it’s so New York that the only New York things I could think of that are missing are Central Park and amazing bagels. This sequence is gut-busting, energized, emotional, and mesmerizing in its form. I don’t often say I love a piece of animation so much that I’d marry it, but when I do, it’s often directed at Rhapsody in Blue.

  Piano Concerto #2 – Dmitri Shostakovich (aka The One With The Steadfast Tin Soldier)

This piece has an interesting history attached to it. Disney wanted to do an animated film surrounding Hans Christian Andersen’s fairy tales – including The Little Mermaid and The Steadfast Tin Soldier – as far back as the 30’s, but the project fell by the wayside. During Fantasia 2000’s production, Roy E. Disney asked if they could do something with Shostakovich’s Piano Concerto #2 since he and his daughter were attached to that piece. He looked over sketches and storyboards made for the unrealized Tin Soldier sequence and discovered the music matched in perfect time with the story.

This is the second sequence that features CGI at the forefront. Unlike Pines of Rome, though, it works because the main characters are toys, and you can get away with your early CGI looking shiny and metallic and plastic-like when you’re animating toys.

Hell, it worked for Pixar.

The story centers on a tin soldier cast with only one leg who is shunned by his comrades for routinely throwing off their groove. He falls in love with a porcelain ballerina when he mistakes her standing en pointe as her also missing a limb. Despite his embarrassment when he learns the truth, the ballerina is enamored with him as well. This rouses the jealousy of an evil jack-in-the-box who I swear is a caricature of Jeffrey Katzenberg minus the glasses but with a goatee and Lord Farquaad wig.

“MUST. CHOP. EVERYTHING!!!”

The jack-in-the-box and the soldier duke it out for a bit before the former sends the latter flying out the window in a little wooden boat. The boat floats the soldier into the sewers and attracts a horde of angry rats who attack him, because animated rodents seem to have a natural hatred towards toy soldiers.

Case in point.

The soldier hurtles into the sea where he’s eaten by a fish – which is caught the following morning, packed up to be sold at market, bought by the cook who works at the very house he came from, and he falls out of the fish’s mouth on the floor where his owner finds him and places him back with the rest of the toys. Now the story this is based on hints that the jack-in-the-box is really a goblin who orchestrates the soldier’s misfortunes with his malicious magic. But based the extremely coincidental circumstances of his return home, I’d say the soldier’s the one who’s got some reality-warping tricks up his sleeve.

The soldier and jack-in-the-box duel again that evening, but this time the harlequin harasser falls into the fireplace and burns up. Our hero gets the girl and lives happily ever after. A nice conclusion, though a far cry from what happened in the original tale: the ballerina is knocked into the fire, the soldier jumps in after her, and all that remains of them by morning is some melted tin in the shape of a heart. I gotta say, for all my love of classic fairytales, Disney made the right call. Andersen’s life was far from magical and it reflected in his stories, making many of them depressing for no good reason. The triumphant note the music ends on also would have clashed horribly if they stuck with the original. Even the Queen of Denmark agreed with Disney’s decision to soften their adaptations of Andersen’s work. I don’t know if I’d call The Steadfast Tin Soldier one of my very favorite parts of Fantasia 2000, but in the end, s’all right.

  Carnival of the Animals: Finale – Camille Sant-Saëns

This shortest of shorts (clocking in at less than two minutes) kicks off with James Earl Jones asking with as much seriousness as he can muster from the situation, what would happen if you gave a yo-yo to a flock of flamingos?

The answer –

Good answer!

Fie on those who dismiss this part as a silly one-off that doesn’t belong here. Fie, I say! It’s a pure delight full of fun expressions and fluid fast-paced action. Once again we have my man Eric Goldberg to thank for this, though this time he animated it entirely by himself. I’d call it a one-man show except for the fact that his wife Susan handpainted the entire thing with watercolor, making it look like it sprung to life straight from a paintbrush. It’s a simple diversion about a flamingo who wants to play with his yo-yo while the other snooty members of his flock try to force him to conform. As you can see from the still, they fail quite epically. Nothing beats the power of nonconformity and yo-yos (also every yo-yo move featured here is authentic; I love when animators go that extra mile).

  The Sorcerer’s Apprentice plays next, but since I already touched on that in the first Fantasia review, I’m skipping over it. The segment ends with Mickey congratulating Leopold Stokowski (again), then crossing the barriers of time and space to inform the conductor, James Levine, that he needs to track down the star of the next segment, Donald Duck. Levine stalls by explaining a bit about what’s to come while Mickey frantically searches for his errant costar. The surround sound sells the notion of him moving around the back of the theater accidentally causing mischief all the while. Thankfully, Donald is found and the sequence commences.

Pomp and Circumstance – Edward Elgar

This famous piece of music was included at the insistence of Michael Eisner after he attended his son’s graduation ceremony. He wanted to feature a song that everyone was already familiar with. Of course, since this was after Frank Well’s untimely passing and no one was bold enough to temper Eisner’s worst instincts with common sense, his original pitch had every animated couple Disney created up to that point marching on to Noah’s Ark – and then marching out with their babies.

Okay, A: Unless you’re doing a groin hit joke or are Ralph Bakshi or R. Crum, cartoon characters don’t have junk as a rule. And B, one of the unwritten rules of Disney animation is that barring kids that already exist like the titular 101 Dalmatians or Duchess’ kittens, the established canon couples do not in any official capacity have children.

To which Eisner laughed maniacally and vowed that they would.

But in order to placate Eisner’s desire to turn every branch of the Disney corporation into a commercial for itself, the animators compromised and agreed to do Pomp and Circumstance with the Noah’s Ark theme, BUT with only one couple – Donald and Daisy Duck. In this retelling of the biblical tale, Donald acts as Noah’s beleaguered assistant (I guess Shem, Ham, and Japheth were too busy rounding up the endangered species). Daisy provides emotional support while preparing to move on to the ark as well. It’s refreshing to see these two not losing their temper at each other for a change. I wish we got to see this side of their relationship more often. Donald returns Daisy’s easily lost plot device locket to her and as the rain rain rain comes down down down, he starts directing the animals on board; the lions, the tigers, the bears, the…ducks?

Anyway, all the animals and Donald get on board – well, most of them do.

The world’s first climate change deniers.

Donald realizes Daisy hasn’t arrived yet and runs out to look for her, unaware that she’s already boarded. Daisy sees Donald leaving but is too late to stop him before the first floodwaters hit their home. Donald made it back to the ark in time, however, though both of them believe that the other is forever lost to them. I find it astounding that they never run into each other not even once during the forty days and forty nights they’re cooped up on that boat. It’s the American Tail cliche all over again, and well, at least it’s happening in a short and not the entire movie.

Soon the ark lands atop Mount Ararat and the animals depart in greater numbers than when they embarked on their singles cruise. Daisy realizes halfway down the mountain that she’s lost her locket again, which Donald finds at that very moment while sweeping up, and the two are joyously reunited.

“I thought you were dead!” “I thought YOU were dead!”

I kid around, but I truly enjoy this short a lot. There’s so much warmth to Donald and Daisy’s relationship that makes their reunion at the end all the sweeter, and there’s plenty of great slapstick to offset the drama in the meantime. I will admit it’s nice to hear there’s more to Pomp And Circumstance than just the famous march, and the entire suite matches flawlessly with the visuals, though the main theme itself is so ingrained into the public consciousness that it’s difficult to extricate it from that what we’ve seen accompany it countless times.

Come on, you all know what I’m talking about.

“What? Don’t tell me YOU don’t think of heads exploding like fireworks when you hear Pomp and Circumstance! Name one other life-changing moment could you possibly associate it with…you weirdo.”

The Firebird Suite – Igor Stravinsky

Fantasia 2000 comes to a close with a piece that has some emotional resonance if you know your history. You might remember from my first Fantasia review that Igor Stravinsky was disappointed with how Rite of Spring turned out, especially since he was a big admirer of Walt Disney and really wanted to do more projects with him beforehand. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that they picked his premiere ballet to end the movie on decades later. After all these years, Disney worked hard to do right by Stravinsky – with a few twists, though. Instead of a balletic retelling of Russian folktales involving kidnapped princesses and immortal sorcerers, we have a fantastical allegory for the circle of life.

No, not that circle of life.

A lone elk who I’m fairly convinced is the Great Prince of the Forest walks through the forest in the dead of winter. With his breath, he awakens the spirit of the woods and one of the most beautiful characters Disney has ever created, the Spring Sprite.

I. Love. This character. Her design is gorgeous, shifting from a shimmery opalescent blue as she steps out of the water into an eternally flowing fount of live greenery spreading from her hair in her wake. Wherever she moves, grass, flowers, and trees blossom, fulfilling the idea of a springtime goddess more than Disney’s own Goddess of Spring ever did. The Sprite was a massive influence in developing my art style, particularly in her face and expressive eyes, and I used to draw her a lot. Visit any relative of mine and chances are you’ll find a picture of her by me hanging up on a wall somewhere in their house. Yet there’s far more to her character than just a pretty representation of nature; there’s plenty of curiosity, spunk, determination, and a drive for creativity. I love her frustrated expression when she’s dissatisfied with the tiny flower she sculpts out of the ground and how her face lights up when she morphs it into a buttercup as tall as she is.

The Sprite paints the forest with all the colors of the wind (mostly green) until she reaches a mountain that isn’t affected by her magic. Perplexed, she climbs it until she finds a large hunched over rock figure – or is it an egg? – standing inside. She reaches out to touch it and…

The Sprite has awakened her counterpart, the wrathful and deadly Firebird. Think giant evil phoenix made of smoke, flame and lava. And it goes without saying that seeing this on the biggest screen left quite the terrifying impact. One of the biggest inspirations for this sequence was the eruption of Mount St. Helens (though the shot of the Sprite surveying the breadth of the Firebird’s destruction reminds me far too much of the Australian bushfires going on) and the sheer horror of nature’s irrepressible chaos is fully captured here. But the Firebird refuses to settle for merely destroying the Sprite’s handiwork, oh no. It won’t rest until creation itself is consumed, and the Sprite is reduced to a powerless mite as she scrabbles to escape the Firebird’s relentless pursuit of her. Try as she might, however, the towering monster corners and devours her in one fell swoop.

The forest is reduced to gray ashes in the wake of the Firebird’s rampage, but the Great Prince has survived. Once again he brings the Sprite to life with his breath, only this time she is tiny and weak (the animation of her slowly developing from the ash into her huddled ragged form is breathtaking). Now, I didn’t think I’d get emotional revisiting a small part of a single movie I’ve rewatched countless times before but viewing this through a mature eye combined with the beauty of the Firebird Suite’s climax and its timely message has caused me to see it in a new light:

The Sprite is utterly broken by what she’s been through and the destruction she carelessly caused. She’s lost all faith in herself and in the idea of returning the forest to what it once was. Even so, the Prince gently insists on carrying her on his antlers to the remains of their favorite cherry blossom tree. Where her tears fall, grass shoots begin to sprout. This fills the Sprite with hope, and she soars into the air becoming one with the sky and rains life down on the forest. New trees burst from the earth. The air is filled with leaves and pollen and new life flowing from her essence. The Sprite’s joy and power grow so strong that she even encircles the Firebird’s mountain in all her verdant glory. Life and creation overcome death and destruction. It’s not Night on Bald Mountain/Ave Maria, but it’s close.

And unfortunately, that’s the biggest problem Fantasia 2000 has.

While working on the original Fantasia, a storyman made the mistake of referring to the work they were doing in “the cartoon medium” in Walt’s presence. Walt turned on him and snapped “This is NOT ‘the cartoon medium’. It should not be limited to cartoons. We have worlds to conquer.”

And conquer they did…just not the way Walt intended.

The point I’m trying to make is Walt was breaking new ground and experimenting with things nobody ever tried when it came to Fantasia. While those risks were initially deemed a failure, it eventually gained the recognition it deserved from the animation and filmmaking community. Any attempt to recreate the magic of Fantasia is no small feat. But rather than taking new risks that not even the first film dared, the studio opted to adhere to Fantasia’s formula with pieces that recall if not flat out copy from the original segments. I hesitate to call it a pale imitation or cash grab however because this was done for the art much more than the money (though Eisner was probably hoping it would bring in some bank). There’s even a little bit of depth to it: while the first Fantasia had themes of differing natures in conflict – light vs. dark, fire vs. water, etc. – Fantasia 2000’s theme is accidental but brilliantly meta: CGI vs. traditional animation, a conflict Disney would become very familiar with in the decade following the film’s release. In some ways, it reminds me of Epcot’s genesis. The driving force behind it was long gone, but the attempt to bring it to life as close to the original vision as possible is still much appreciated.

For all my gripes, I really do enjoy Fantasia 2000. Perhaps not on the same level as its predecessor, but it has its moments, oh yes. And believe me, as far as Disney sequels go, you could do far, far, far worse than this one. Fantasia 2000 is Fantasia’s kid sister mimicking its beloved older sibling in an attempt to show it can be cool like the big kids too. But hey, imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed this review, please consider supporting this misfit on Patreon. Patreon supporters receive great perks such as extra votes for movie reviews, movie requests, early sneak-peeks and more! If I can hit my goal of $100 a month, I can go back to weekly tv series reviews. As of now, I’m only $20 away! Special thanks to Amelia Jones, Gordhan Rajani and Sam Minden for their contributions! I’ll see you in a few weeks when I and review the 1959 Disney animated classic, Sleeping Beauty!

Artwork by Charles Moss.

Screencaps from animationscreencaps.com

Yes, I know The Lion King and Lady and the Tramp ended with the titular characters having babies, but was there anyone out there apart from Eisner who demanded there be sequels to those films that focused on their offspring?

January Review: Fantasia 2000 Last year I talked about Fantasia, which is not just one of my favorite Disney movies, but one of my favorite movies in general.

[a-dinosaur-a-day]

I highly recommend having this survey open on your browser, doing research, and filling it out slowly. Because, birds. 

Palaeognaths

The first major division of modern birds (all the rest are Neognaths). Includes the Moa, Elephant Birds, Tinamous, Emus, Rheas, and Lithornithids. Casuarias and Struthio are ineligible, so don’t write in any Cassowaries or Ostriches. 

Highlights include the Kiwi, an adorable small with a long snoot; Aepyornis, the largest Neornithean known; the Emu, who has one of the funniest ways of running; and Lithornis, an extinct flying member of the group. 

Galloanserans 

The earliest derived group of Neognaths. Includes Gastornis & the very similar Dromornithids, Geese, Screamers, Ducks, Swans, Curassows, Guans, Megapodes, Partridges, Quails, Junglefowl, and Pheasants. Genera Pavo and Gallus are ineligible, so don’t write in any peafowl or the four junglefowl under Gallus (which includes the chicken). 

Highlights include Gastornis, which was actually a large herbivore rather than a super predator as thought; Vegavis, one of the earliest well-known Neornithes, being from the Cretaceous; Hooded Merganser, the duck with the very large crest that is quite impressive; and the Blue-billed Curassow, confirmed Friend and Curly Man. 

Caprimulgiformes & Opisthocomiformes

These two groups aren’t actually closely related, I just had to stick Opisthocomiformes somewhere. Caprimulgiformes include Oilbirds, Owlet-Nightjars, Frogmouths, Nighthawks, and Nightjars. Opisthocomiformes include Hoatzin. Genera Nyctibius and Opisthocomus are ineligible, so no potoos or the only modern Hoatzin. 

Highlights include the Satanic Nightjar, which looks exactly like you’d expect; the Tawny Frogmouth, who almost looks like a potoo if you squint; the Oilbird, which has some of the weirdest and spookiest eyes; and Hoazinoides, an extinct Hoatzin with feet like that of an owl. 

Apodiformes

Swifts, Treeswifts, and Hummingbirds. Nothing is ineligible. All are precious.

Highlights include the Bee Hummingbird, the smallest dinosaur known to science; the Common Swift, which looks like a boomerang; Eocypselus, an early relative of all these groups; and anything of the genera Sappho and Lesbia, which are the best genus names I’ve ever heard of.

Columbaves

Cuckoos, Turacos, Bustards, Pigeons, Doves, Sandgrouse, and Mesites. Genus Columba is ineligible, so don’t write in any of the “typical pigeons.” 

Highlights include the Dodo, which is not as dumb as we were lead to believe; the Bare-Faced Go-Away Bird, which represents Me at All Times; the Nicobar Pigeon, which has beautiful rainbow plumage; and the Kori Bustard, which has a really elegant neck and posture IMO. 

Gruiformes

Cranes, Crakes, Rails, Limpkin, Trumpeters, Flufftails, Finfoots, and Sungrebes. Nothing is ineligible. 

Highlights include the Whooping Crane, an endangered species with a distinctive call; the White-Spotted Flufftail, who has adorable spots on its butt; the Red-Legged Crake, which is red in lots of places besides its legs; and the Sungrebe, which has a nice blue cap on its head. 

Mirandornithes & Charadriiformes

Flamingos, Grebes, Waders, Snipes, Sandpipers, Jacanas, Wanderers, Gulls, Skimmers, Terns, Puffins, Skuas, Plovers, Buttonquails, Thick-Knees, Sheathbills, Ibisbills, Avocets, Oystercatchers, and Lapwings. Nothing is ineligible. 

Highlights include the Great Auk, an extinct large puffin that we as humans don’t deserve; the Ring-Billed Gull, whom I have a personal vendetta against; the Dovekie, a smol, adorable friend; and the Sanderling, one of the inspirations behind Pixar’s Piper. 

Ardeae

Tropicbirds, Kagu, Sunbittern, Loons, Albatross, Petrels, Storkss, Boobies, Cormorants, Pelicans, Hamerkop, Ibises, Spoonbills, Herons, Egrets, and Penguins. The genus Balaeniceps is ineligible, so don’t write in the Shoebill. 

Highlights include the Little Penguin, the smol adorable penguin of smol adorableness; the Least Bittern, who is indeed the Least Bittern; the Common Loon, against whom my partner Max (@plokool) has a personal vendetta; and the Emperor Penguin, which is the Pinnacle of Dinosaurian Evolution according to Thomas Holtz (well, okay, he said penguins in general were, but this is the emperor penguin, so...) 

Accipitrimorphs 

Vultures (both Old and New world), Ospreys, Hawks, Eagles, Kites. Genera Sagittarius and Gypaetus are ineligible, so don’t write in the Secretary Bird, or the Bearded Vulture. No, do not write in the Bearded Vulture, nor Lammergeier, nor Ossifrage. You will have wasted your vote. Do not do the thing. It doesn’t count. 

Highlights include Haast’s Eagle, an eagle so large it hunted the Moa; the Harpy Eagle, which honestly when you see it if you aren’t convinced birds are dinosaurs there’s nothing more I can do; the Turkey Vulture, or as I like to call it, the Bare-Faced Come-Hither Bird; and the Red-Tailed Hawk, aka, that sound you hear when people try to ignore that Bald Eagles are actually huge dorks. 

Strigiformes

Owls. Genus Tyto is ineligible, which is basically all barn owls and most of their close relatives, so just, don’t write that in. 

Highlights include Palaeoglaux, one of the earliest derived forms and may have been diurnal; the Burrowing Owl, who likes to dig them holes; the Snowy Owl, aka Hedwig; and the Fearful Owl, who looks exactly like what you’d expect. 

Coraciimorphs

Mousebirds, Cuckoo Roller, Trogons, Hornbills, Hoopoes, Rollers, Kingfishers, Woodpeckers, Toucans. Genus Dacelo is ineligible, which means no Kookaburras, none, do not write one in. 

Highlights include Septencoracias, aka a Friend and Boy; the Hoopoe, aka the Most Jewish bird; the Resplendent Quetzal, which truly is magnificently colored; and the Keel-Billed Toucan, who just really loves fruit okay?

Falconiformes & Cariamiformes

Serimas, Terror Birds, Bathornithids, Caracaras, and Falcons. Genus Titanis is ineligible, as is Falco peregrinus, the peregrine falcon. Since most falcons are under Falco, the rest of the genus is eligible. 

Highlights Include Phorusrhacos, one of the most Quintessential Terror Birds; the Red-Legged Seriema, who is just a very angry bird; the Pygmy Falcon, who is a Smol Ball of FURY; and the Northern Crested Caracara, who has distinctive purple-pinkish skin on its face. 

Parrots

... Parrots. The Kakapo, genus Strigops, is ineligible. 

Highlights include the Cockatiel, a common pet and soft friend; the African Grey Parrot, one of the smartest species of dinosaurs; Spix’s Macaw, a beautiful blue parrot on the brink of extinction; and the Mulga Parrot, a parrot with feathers that almost look like clay in certain lighting. 

Passerines

Perching birds. The vast majority of birds. Most birds are in this group. I am so sorry. Includes, but is not limited to, Pittas, Broadbills, Cotingas, Sharpbills, Flycatchers, Antthrushes, Ovenbirds, Lyrebirds, Scrub-birds, Bowerbirds, Honeyeaters, Fairywrens, Whistlers, Orioles, Vireos, Birds of Paradise, Jays, Satinbirds, Wattlebirds, Rockfowl, Tits, Chickadees, Larks, Nicators, Wren-Babblers, Swallows, Warblers, Babblers, Waxwings, Treecreepers, Thrushes, Oxpeckers, Mockingbirds, Sugarbirds, Sunbirds, Sparrows, Finches, Buntings, Cardinals, Whistlers, Woodshrikes. 

The genus Corvus is ineligible, which is a good portion of crows and ravens, so don’t write them in. There are so many passerines to choose from, you can pick another one. 

It’s, nearly impossible to pick four highlights, but here we go. Highlights include the Blue Jay, one of the most famous and beautiful perching birds; the Superb Bird of Paradise, who has one of the most spectacular mating dances of birds; the Great Tit, who truly is an amazing soft sphere of birb; and the House Sparrow, a feature of almost every major city and one of the dinosaurs often used to define the clade.

Good luck. Have fun. Voting will close February 24 (possibly earlier if we get enough votes in). 

[vasilinaorlova]

hologram and flamingo, superimposed / expecting the birth of the dandelion moth

“you can entertain yourself not only by purchasing goods.”–“but also by purchasing entertainment.” so much for anti-consumerism. rejoice in Joyce, sistren and brethren I can't; he's juicy pulp fiction through our eyes. to be a mother is to be blissfully delusional. she sent her husband a message “darling how r u?”–“are you sure you sent it to the right person?” I asked students how many of them had ever worn cowboy boots, and approximately a fifth part of one hundred pupils did. something to be said about performance of masculinity / femininity in Texas. cowboy boots are such a charged part of attire. caterpillar. what an unusual narrative mode for you; this is quite funny. weary of gravity and atmosphere on this planet. squashed jelly fish. jelly fish poured in a high glass. ghost  (ghost), get lost,  lost

honey, are you honey?

honey, are you horny? midnight writings are my favorite. You are yourself the Western philosophy, The Western philosophy itself, you: Proud eyes, a slightly crooked nose, And on the backdrop, endlessly unfolding, Squares in chess pattern; exuberances: Marble statues, columns, Equestrian specters; petty tyrants in withered laurel wreaths; Madonnas crying with ruby tears of a Great translucency; a pearl dissolved in the Vinegar-bitter wine, with which Cleopatra, According to a rumor (well, a legend) Poisoned her lover once.

“a fair dispatcher of morning prayers” Rabelais

I saw a January butterfly

I shall serve you as an unbreakable machine.

a machine transforming butterflies into petals of flowers in the wind and vice versa producing jell-Os out of letters "O"                                    O_o

demonic robot

deus ex machina

exudes / oozes Für Elise:                                                [a sweet mechanism]

drop drip

soft hummers strings black, long and white, longer bones

leave me, an exigent étude

I am an ex-deus, a faux seraph, a scrap surviving exodus from the machine’s warm, terrifying womb

somewhere not between the lines as much as between letters.

funny and poignant

I like clear writing. clarity. a precious metal.

captivating. a great opening line. the text is dense.

“great expectations”

indeed there is no dark or light left or right right or wrong up or down there is no “no,” but a fall dilapidating gown made out of leaves stitched together by the tail of a fox’s apparition.

no talk on space could be done without a discussion of ruins. ruins are the margins of the space, a space broken, or falling apart, a breakage in continuity, a whirlpool of things–discarded objects, bricks falling out of order, fragments scattered; a space vexed and vortexed.

I wonder how much of a solitude is a longing of its eradication, and how much (of what is left, presumably) is a desire for solitude.

i regret ive never mastered this challenging art of writing without capital letters and punctuation and lots of parentheses)) which should mean emotions not anything else))))) I tried many times… No, again.

indeed it is not.

I noticed the date “1994” after an eternal poem it struck me as impossible whenever I spotted the date below an eternal poem it was the year of my birth, although the date often started with 18, not 19. but 1994… and what a year it was (just to be clear: this is not a poem but written in column facebook status)

painkillers.                   aggressive word. beyond aggressive.         sufferingmurderers                                                                                        something German                                                                                        Schadenfreude

I think I might need a glass of wine again. they did wear those strange dresses that required a cloud of silk, and in those dresses they did look fairly strange for a human eye, like theropod dinosaurs. she gave her daughter a tattoo set for birthday: an apparatus and samples of pork skin. she asked but one thing: that her daughter did not tattoo her own children until they grow up.                                                                      what are these                                                                      beautiful little                                                                      white birds; what are                                                                      they called? don’t you look          into this lamp                 with stained glass,                                   lest you see                                                    carriages with fast horses,                [flying]                                                    palaces,                                                    placeless places,         [nemesis]                            nameless names, and                                                                       silhouettes of equestrian ghosts.                                                    cities burning                                                    are not a novelty                                                    for your seventeen-year-old eyes. routinely made predictions. oh you are very welcome to write off whatever you find inspiring. if you saw me in a dream, you likely saw one of my creepoids; beware of them, in no way they are I. the sky looks like a sheet of a slightly wrinkled papyrus it is not long before the scroll begins unrolling Russian esotericist, keeper of clandestine knowledge, and gusli-player Alexander Gnutov-Bayun asseverated that the human body consists of three parts: the lowest, from feet to knees–the lizard / serpent (yashcher); the middle, from knees to chest–the wolf; and the highest, from chest (including esophagus, throat, mouth, nose, eyes, brain) to hair–the bird. attracted and reluctant sad story. this story is so sad and has such big blue eyes that I want immediately to offer it some tea.                                                                          dandelion                                                                          is about to turn                                                                          into chrysalis;                                                                          I’ll sit here                                                                          on the warm white rock                                                                          and wait until                                                                          the pupa breaks                                                                          and out crawls                                                                          a wrinkled-winged                                                                          dandelion moth.

[randrvstheworld]

A neverending sky: 3 days in the Bolivian desert

It’s been three incredible days in Uyuni; marvellous sights, wonderful people & a lot of realisations. Travelling alone means a lot of time for your own thoughts, to think & reflect; in a lot, in fact pretty much all ways, I think I prefer it. There are times obviously that I feel a little lonely but I felt lonely before so it’s not really that different in that respect.

Our journey began in the back of a jeep; just me, a lovely English couple & essentially the Chilean version of my family (more on them later), cruising through the dusty sands to the Cemeterio de Trenes, a desolate landscape spookily filled with rusted old trains that have been sent there to die; impotent, rusting, surplus to requirements. The sky was a brilliant blue yet there was an eerie air to the place. We clambered about, in & out the old engines & carriages. It was cool but would have also made an excellent setting for a ghost story or horror movie of some kind.

Next we cruised further into the desert until we reached the famous salt flats. During this trip I thought I had seen every possible landscape - from beaches to mountains to lagoons to volcanoes to rainforests - but I have never seen anything like this. It was so flat & vast, just white, like snow, but warm. This giant sky. Everything was blue & white. It was like being inside a humongous snow globe. We messed around taking silly photos, exploiting the flatness of the landscape to force perspective - making toy dinosaurs look giant & like they were chasing us, transforming Luna the tiny llama into a normal sized llama that I could pat. Also a lot of just wandering around, gazing at the endless sky, feeling minuscule & insignificant in the grand scheme of things, which sounds depressing but really isn’t. Like the realisation that, to quote one of my favourite songs, “I am just a speck of dust inside a giant’s eye”, that you are but a grain of sand on the landscape of humanity; think about all the people that have come before you & all the people that will come after. It was humbling & magical but NOTHING compared with what came next.

The highlight of my entire trip thus far: sunset over the salt flats. We drove through the barren salty landscape for about another hour until we arrived at a part that was flooded; this is why you should visit the salt flats during rainy season, because the salt & the flatness & the floodwater creates what can only be described as the worlds largest mirror. In front of us, a neat row of mountains, in every other direction: sky. Just sky. Imagine the most beautiful sunset you’ve ever seen, reflected for miles & miles, as far as you can see; nothing on the horizon but pink clouds & blue sky, like you’re floating in space, in the heavens. I have never experienced anything I would - or could - describe as divine before this moment, but in this instance, standing alone & silent in this vast, un-ending dome of clouds & sky & colour, I felt truly the presence of - & I am loathe to use the word ‘God’ so instead I will borrow from the Incans & say ‘Pachamama’ (spirit of the universe). It was an incredible time, truly special, & I will never forget the feeling I felt right then: of being tiny, of being alone (in a good way), of being gifted this wonderful sight, like I was the luckiest person in the world. Tranquil. Grateful. Awed. Like the main character in American Beauty describing all the beauty in the world & that at times it’s so overwhelming that you feel incapable of containing it & you may burst. I had to choke back tears. I truly felt like I wasn’t able to take it in, & that I was taking it in too much at the same time, like every feeling I’ve ever had was bubbling up inside me at that moment. I will never, ever forget it.

The night was spent at the Salt Hotel, which, exactly as the name suggests, is a hostel made entirely of salt: salt bricks, salt floor, you get the idea. The Chileans taught us a very fun card game called Carioca which we played until far too late. The next day we cruised through the desert for hours, checking out many lagoons filled with native flamingos, wading about & pecking at things in the water. As an animal lover this was another real highlight for me, to see these beautiful creatures up close & in their natural habitat. Our final stop of the day was the Laguna Colorada, a huge lake that’s bright red & surrounded by mountains. The night was spent in a very basic desert hostel, where we were forced into bed at 9.30 due to the electricty being turned off & us being plunged into darkness. I decided, as is my wont, to go for my pre-bed cigarette & I am truly glad that I did because I looked up & saw more stars than I even knew existed. The entire milky way, twinkling away above me. All the constellations alight with perfect clarity. Big, bright stars, tiny, faint stars. The entire jet black dome of the night sky strewn with potential wishes.

The third & final day of this trip involved a very early start & visit to some natural geysers, which were beautiful in a surreal way as long as you ignored the unbearably eggy sulphuric smell. The geysers looked like cloud machines, pumping fluffy mist out of swampy holes in the ground. Very prehistoric, land before time vibes. It’s hard to remember that places like this still exist when you spend your life in a sprawling cosmopolitan metropolis. After this we went to bathe in some natural hot springs with the high morning sun on our faces, which felt glorious & very at one with nature-y. Then it was a long hot bumpy jeep cruise through the desert to drop off Jess & Pete at the Chilean border as they ventured west before myself & the lovely Chilean family went back to Uyuni.

Ah yes, the Chilean family. Paula, Simon & Josefina. I have never before met a family that so closely echoes my own family dynamic; the thoughtful, confident older brother that despite teasing obviously really had his little sisters back; the younger sister, loud, lover of singing & dancing & making fun of her bro, & the delightful mum; silly, fun, loving, with an adventurous spirit. I suffered a flu during this trip & Paula took such good care of me, giving me tablets & even rubbing vicks into my back; I felt like her overgrown surrogate child for three days. It was lovely to be part of such a wonderful family dynamic, but made me realise more than ever how much I miss my own mum & brother & I just can’t wait to see them when I get back. Much like my time in Sucre, which was made awesome by the people I met (despite the fact that I did very little when I was there), any experience is really only as fun as the people you experience it with. You could clean toilets for 8 hours but if you’re doing it with someone who cares about you & makes you laugh you’ll have a good time. This has been my most resounding life lesson of my travels. People make life worth living. Good people. You must surround yourself with them; never let them go, & never let them go a day without making sure they know you care & are there for them.

All in all this tour was one of my biggest highlights of my travels. I’m so glad I decided to venture out on my own & go for it; I feel brave & proud for managing to traverse Bolivia on my own. And now; I am in La Paz. Having randomly bumped into George, a guy I met at our hostel in Huaraz, back in Uyuni who is now also in La Paz we have made plans to take a three day trip to the Amazon tomorrow, just in time for my birthday. And boom! Just like that, the last of my South American bucket list is ticked off. I can’t wait. 

[theglobetrottergp-blog]

I absolutely LOVED San Pedro. It’s a small town in the north of Chile, not far from the Bolivian and Argentinian borders. It’s your gateway to the Atacama desert and the Bolivean Altiplano and you could happily while away a week or two here, soaking up the towns abundent charm and exploring the local dramatic scenery by hiking, 4WD, cycling or even horseback!

A few facts:

Town population : 5000

Altitude : 2100 metres

Language spoken : Spanish

Currency : Argentinian peso (£4.30 = 100 peso)

Visa requirments : None for most countries. Australians need to payt a recipriocity fee of $117 if entering via santiago airport. Chinese have to get a visa which is free. 

Where to eat

San Pedro is not cheap so if you are on a budget you will need to look around and find the best deals – they are there to find. You will however find an abundance of great restuarants covering cuisines from all over the world. You certainly won’t go hungry in San Pedro. If you have space afterwards, I recommend stopping at one of the nurmerous ice cream shops! Here are a few of my favourite restuarants:

The Burger Garden

  –    Best for hanging out with locals

Basically just a no frills burger bar found on a side street in a little courtyard lit up with fairy lights. There are a few long tables to sit around and a great sociable atmosphere. Frequented by lots of locals it’s a great lace to get to know some of the people who know San Pedro best! The burgers are also delicious and a decent price – around 6000 pesos (£7-8.)

Laestaka

Best for fine dining

Not the cheapest of places but the food is delicious, the staff helpful and friendly and the atmosphere is great. The food is also well presented – the chicken curry came inside a coconut! Dinner will set you back about 12-14000 pesos. I’d recommend the carne pasta – like a lasagne but with shredded beef instead of bolognaise. The chicken in a mustard cream sauce was also a hit.

Cafe Peregrino

Best for people watching

Found in the main square and with tables outside to sit and people watch and soak up the sunshine, this was a great find. The food was delicious, portion sizes VERY generous and they also make amazing cakes – I recommend the chocolate cake! The fruit juices are also huge and absolutely delicious – I had strawberry and banana and it was so good! We ate quesidillas with some yummy homemade guacoamole which cost about 5000 pesos. They will also do takeaway if you wish.

Cafe Esquina

Best for takeaway

Here you can get absolutely huge and really tasty empenadas to takeaway. This will keep you full for most of the day and only costs 3800 pesos!

Where to Stay

There is a huge choice of hostels, campsites and hotels in San Pedro as it’s such a popular place to visit. I usually use booking.com as it allows you to search based on requirements e.g below a certain price or only with a swimming pool or wifi. You will also find a booking.com search bar on this website for your convenience. Scroll down, it’s on the right!

The place I stayed at I can highly recommend. Camp Campestre is primarily a campsite but there are also some dormitory rooms if you prefer a bed! There’s a kitchen to cook in, a nice area to hang out in outside including a hammock and chair swing and they are in the process of building a swimming pool. More importantly the showers are hot, the toilets are clean and there is wifi (sometimes.) It’s a 2 minute stroll into town but it can get dark at night so take a torch with you when you go out for dinner!

What to do

People watch in the main square. There are several cafes dotted about the square where you can enjoy a coffee and some people watching.

Do some shopping.You will find everything from souvenir markets selling all things alpacca to high end jewellery in boutique shops.

Enjoy the nightlife – San Pedro is bustling at night, especially for such a small town! But you will find everything from traditional chilean pubs selling nowt but beer to swanky bars for Pisco sours.

Arrange a day trip to Moon Valley in the Atacama desert. Marvel at the rock formations (see if you can spot the witch and the dinosaur.) Climb to the top of a sand dune for amazing 360 degree views of huge rock formations and salt planes which looks like a snowy winter wonderland! Then find a rocky cliff to sit on to watch the sun go down. Don’t forget a jumper – it’s super hot in the day but the temperature drops quickly in the desert!

Organise a 4WD trip across the border to the Bolivean altiplano. Here you will find incredible views of snow capped mountains, colourful lakes, spouting geysers and bubbling pools of sulphur. You can even stop for a soak at some natural hot springs overlooking a beautiful lagoon. Keep your eyes peeled for flamingoes, llamas and vicuna!  The short journey back over the border is also pretty spectacular!

Organise a star watching trip but be warned, they don’t run for about a week around the full moon (sadly when I was there!) But apparently it’s one of the best places in the world to star gaze. And even with a full moon, they looked pretty incredible from San Pedro.

There are countless other places to visit with lagoons, rock formations, geysers and hot springs. You can arrange to cycle, hike or horseback ride to see the sights. Sadly it was a flying visit for me but I did meet a guy, Pablo, at the Burger Garden (see above) who runs a tourism business where he arranges private tours of the surrounding area tailored to your interests eg hiking, photography etc. You can visit his website at www.atacamacontact.com.

San Pedro is definitely a place I’d like to go back to see more of! Have you been before? Maybe you got the chance to star gaze? I’d love to hear about your experiences!

San pedro & the atacama desert in Chile! One of my favourite places I've visited in S america! I absolutely LOVED San Pedro. It’s a small town in the north of Chile, not far from the Bolivian and Argentinian borders.

[garynsmith]

Fellow mom brokers: Let’s get some work-life balance

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“Mom guilt” is alive and well, and it’s standard operating procedure in my daily routine. I’ve been a broker for a little less than three years, and not trying to brag, but I seem to be killing it in real estate.

My success, however, comes with a hefty price tag.

I work like a madwoman. My phone is always ringing and buzzing, and my computer is always in the same room as me. When my alarm goes off at 5:30 a.m., the first thing I reach for is my phone.

Before I get out of bed, I have already checked my emails and the schedule that awaits. It’s a pretty sad existence.

Every week, I tell myself things will slow down so I can finally spend more time with my kids. But then every day, I notice how quickly they are growing and how much more independent they are becoming.

October is coming to an end, and Halloween is around the corner. Fortunately, I scored this year and found both kids’ costumes at Pottery Barn Kids (after I convinced them that a flamingo and dinosaur are the coolest costumes ever!) Bonus: They were on sale!

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I also checked off “buy a pumpkin” on my to-do list last Friday when I broke away from work early, knowing that my weekend would be filled with showing homes and hosting an open house.

October has flown by, and I’m really hoping November is the month when things start to slow down, and I can finally feel like I am present in my kids’ lives.

Any other mama brokers out there feeling me?

Yes, yes, yes

So, why do we, as women brokers, have such a hard time saying no to anyone other than our loved ones?

Great question, and one I ask myself several times a week. If a client says he wants to see a property at 9 p.m. so he can take in the city views, I don’t think twice about saying yes — even if it means I don’t get to tuck my kids in bed that night.

When we go on vacation, the first thing I pack is my laptop. I have to duck away from all the fun so I can reply to emails that can’t wait until I get back or write an offer on the hot house that will surely go pending in the next five hours.

Last Mother’s Day, my husband and kids planned a weekend getaway to the beach. My kids were so excited to get there and to build sand castles with me.

I kid you not, the minute we pulled up to the resort, my phone started ringing, as if my clients knew exactly when we’d arrive.

They attended an open house earlier that day and were finally ready to write an offer — after six months of looking and the one weekend I was out of town. So off went my family to frolic in the sand, while I stayed in our room to write that offer.

I stay up until midnight to answer emails on the daily and to do one last check for listings, just to make sure I catch any new ones before Zillow and Redfin beat me to it with their notifications.

You know exactly what I’m talking about, right mamas?

Turn back!

Which is why it’s so funny when we get that phone call from that one mom friend, asking us to lunch to talk about her brilliant new idea of becoming a real estate agent.

I always ask why real estate? And usually the first thing I hear is because she wants to go back to work but doesn’t want a 9-to-5 job; she thinks real estate is perfect because she “loves looking at houses on Zillow” and wants a job that’s more flexible.

Anyone else press mute and either laugh or scream when you get that call?

It’s a good thing there’s still no app that alerts the caller to eye rolls or face palming.

Unfortunately, most people evaluate our jobs based on the results. What they don’t see is all of the important stuff we mom brokers have to miss: the camping trips, the weekends at the beach, baking cupcakes, etc.

There’s no such thing as a set schedule because our schedule is always based on the client’s needs and availability.

So, mama brokers, what if we make a pact?

Let’s “take back” the last two months left in 2017. Let’s make a promise to ourselves and each other to slow down, to find some balance, to say yes more to ourselves and to our families and occasionally say no to the job-related demands.

I’m not saying take off the next two months or neglect your clients. Just find some time for yourself and for your loved ones.

Block out your next Friday afternoon, and go for a nice long run, schedule a massage, go to a movie with your significant other, or just take your kids to the park — and leave the phone in the car.

And hopefully, after doing it once, you’ll find it easier to do it again and again. After all, you deserve it!

Sam Dowlatdad is a broker at Sean Z Becker Real Estate in Portland, Oregon. Follow her on Instagram or Twitter.

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