#ratz brothers

[aunti-christ-ine]

A Sunbonnet Blue - The Three Ratz Brothers (1937) 

[karmageddeon]

Hi everyone !!! It's been a while (again) cuz I'm not always actively working on this comic, it's more of an on-and-off thing, but I have some more characters to share today! These are just side characters so they're not exactly at the center of everything but that's okay!

Candle is one of Neil's drinking buddies, Chase is an old ex-friend of Bat, Evan works at the Roadkill Grill, Frans owns the Ratz motel, Mason is a physician at the Practice clinic, and Salt is the younger brother of Pep.

No Toyhouse pages yet because I'm out of town and busy with a lot and don't have hours to type out the bios but I hope you guys like their designs ! :3

[gvtted-ratz]

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THOMAS

Tom/Thomas x Hacker!GN!Reader

Last Edited: 11/07/2024

TW: mocking, drugging, imprisonment, kidnapping, illegal auctioning, human trafficking

Requested: No.

Word Count: 3,721

AO3 LINK -> HERE

Notes from gvtted-ratz (writer/creator): Tom, our beloved. There isn’t much, if any, info on him, so we did our best. If you don’t enjoy the headcanons we’ve established here, we don’t mind you clicking off the fic. We do suggest looking up Nazca and its culture. It was pretty interesting to read about.

Notes from @rppik (editor/co-writer): a quote from when I was editing: ��Rat, you self-indulgent meta-ass whore, PLEASE”

“I assume this is everything?” You can hear Blue and Red getting shifty at your words. They, as well as you, have been waiting for the introduction to cease to start your biddings.

“That it is, yes! Would my esteemed customers like to let this lowly auctioneer know what goods you wish to purchase?”

Yes, that is the question, isn’t it? Who will you be bidding on to take with you?

》YOU HAVE SELECTED THOMAS 《

“Blue window? Which do you wish to take with you? I’ll make sure to have it all written down!” The Auctioneer asks, motioning towards a metal door. Behind it, you’re sure there’s someone there to take notes of what items are purchased, they will be shipped to, as well as who wasn’t bought.

“Oh! I’d love to have that Thomas boy! I’ll do 140 for him! And perhaps Mason for 250?” Blue’s window lights up. She sounds excited to go first with her purchases. Then again, she always complained when she didn’t get to go before everyone else; better she goes now than later.

“Very well. How about the red window? Whom will you be taking?” The Auctioneer's  facial expression is unable to be seen behind her bandage-like mask, though the way she talks with such joy only highlights how well she is at her job.

“200 on Machete, 340 each for the Goffard boys,” Red says, window lighting up.

“What the fuck! Fuck you!” Derek says, Matt looking just as livid as his brother. Machete doesn’t look to be phased at being chosen by Red; his face stays calm despite this very unlucky situation he’s found himself in.

Those that haven’t been chosen appear to be less tense, relieved to not be bought. On the other hand, of Blue’s selected prizes, Mason looks ready to kill; his eyes looking this way and that, body tensed like a large predator ready to pounce. Tom's widened eyes, however, are shiny with fearful, unshed tears.

It appears Blue wants to have someone she can “put in their place” while also having somewhat of an obedient mutt.

“Green window? Would you kindly tell this lowly Auctioneer your choice?”

“150 for Tom,” your warbled voice makes said man flinch at your words. You can see his clasped hands shaking.

“What! But, Green! I want him,” Blue whines, making a distorted sigh spill from your lips. A few of the products’ eyes have that “oh God, now what” look to them. “200!”

“Nearing your budget. 300,” you retort, no hesitation in your tone. You hear a few huffs from her window, the blue glow only highlighting how spoiled she acts despite her age.

“Fine! I’ll take that dirty cop for 150 then!” You can mentally hear the ‘humph!’ after her words, leading to you to sigh once more. Blue is probably the Bidder you like the least, due to her spoiled tone paired with the inability to actually fight for items she deems worthy of her money. You already know she can’t afford the things she wants, compared to you or Red, that is. How she acts only adds fuel to that raging fire.

“‘Dirty cop!? Who the fuck do you think you are, you stupid bitch!” Said dirty cop is now making a fuss, making you smash your hand into your window to silence him. The rattling directs his gaze to your area while others try to look anywhere but.

“Auctioneer, the bidding is done. I will send you the money as agreed upon, including the extra,” you declare, the modulator only making your voice sound emotionless.

“Oh, yes! Of course! Thank you for joining us here today! As ordered, those who were not purchased will be dropped off in or near their respective towns!” A high-pitched whine rings out as a clear mist fills the room, falling from the spouts attached to its ceiling.

The Auctioneer stands away from the shackled group, seemingly watching on as they yell at everyone around them; cornered animals always tend to lash out when there’s no escape. While they proceed to collapse in heaps on the metal ground below, you, The Auctioneer, and your fellow buyers remain standing; you’re not sure if The Auctioneer has a resistance or a built-in filter to keep out the gas used to put the products to sleep. You do know that the buyers’ rooms have a separate system from the main room, holding its own spouts for the gas in case there happens to be a violent mishap.

Just as quickly as the gas started, it clears just as fast; the spouts no longer whine from releasing the unknown chemicals in the air. Dressed similarly to The Auctioneer, employees of hers enter through the only metal door leading into the room. They grab both the purchased and the unsold, hauling them out for shipment; those that have not been chosen will be carted off as The Auctioneer had stated previously, able to be bought again at a later date. Each of the merchandise will be connected to a drip, keeping them under as they’re delivered to their respective drop-off locations.

You feel a small amount of glee at seeing your chosen target being placed in a wheelchair, IV hooked into the meat of his espresso-brown arm. While he doesn’t know it, he’ll be awaiting your arrival as is per policy; there must be a positive identification of the commodity before the Auction House's job is labeled as complete, with this being a precaution in the case of the delivery being in the wrong area.

“All has been settled, yes?” The Auctioneer’s polite speech forces you to stop staring after your new companion. “Would you kindly wire your payments at this time?” Her customer-service tone hasn’t dialed down nor increased during the entirety of the show’s presentation; it simply remains as prim as possible without grating on your nerves.

“The amount should arrive shortly. Exactly as agreed upon.” You present your burner, clicking the keys to gain access to an offshore account you’ve set up prior to this visit. If one were to try tracking it, somehow getting past your secured firewalls and the encryptions you spent days installing, the trail would only lead to some sap who has a very disturbing interest in illegal images containing unsavoury depictions of people’s mutilated bodies. No skin off your back– literally or figuratively, in this case.

Your distorted-sounding words hold true, as some device beyond the metal door The Auctioneer is standing beside lets out a ding . Hearing it, she glances over at it before nodding, deeming your actions acceptable.

“Thank you, Green. I have hope from the bottom of my heart that your lovely purchase with bear the ripest of fruit for your taking!” You only give her a nod from the glass, knowing she cannot see into it unless you were to talk, forcing the light to shine on your form. You don’t bother to stay any longer, deciding to leave the little boxed room. Likewise, you’d rather not listen to any concerns nor issues the other buyers may have; such instances usually end up in heated arguments or death of said buyer, and you're not particularly interested either way.

With the door closing behind you, another figure dressed like one of the many previously seen employees steps out in front to guide you. There are no words exchanged, the only sounds you hear being that of your own footsteps, paired with your guide’s own muffled breathing through the gauzy wrappings around their head.

Nearing the end of the hallways, the guide opens the dark-wooden door before you, stepping aside to allow you to walk through. Your pace stays consistent, neither slowing nor speeding up. Brick steps turn into a worn gravel path under your shoes as you approach your vehicle. The keys are pressed into your awaiting hand by another member of staff, dressed like the others before them. The rental is easy to gain access to, the engine starting with ease now that you’ve put the key in the ignition. As you drive off, you don’t look back, looking forward to approaching your place of work. You’re sure that by the time you arrive, your chosen prize will be there waiting for you, unknowingly in his sleeping state, of course.

-------------------------------------

The black van parked in front of the dilapidated garage you call your workplace almost makes you chuckle. It’s hardly inconspicuous though the van is needed to transport goods like the one you’ve purchased; it only makes the image of a kidnapping, or even a body dumping event, brighter in your mind’s eye. Maybe if it was part of some sort of amateur fanfiction made by a sleep-deprived author, you’d have thought more about the vehicle’s design or the fact that you’re at a very odd location after visiting a human trafficking auction to purchase someone. As it were, you had better things to preoccupy your mind with.

You park the rental close to the van, exiting it to approach the back of the dark car. The back doors swing open, an employee of the auction house opening them from the inside. They gesture at the incapacitated man, allowing your hidden eyes to glance over his form.

The IV is still inserted in his median antebrachial vein, or the superficial vein of the forearm; it’s one of the most common places one inserts an IV. He’s been strapped down on a gurney, keeping him in place during the entire ride here; if he were to wake up during transportation, he wouldn’t have been able to escape with all the leather straps keeping him held down. The man hasn’t been changed out of the white tank top or blue shorts, glasses still on his face.

With a quick nod at the worker to signal your approval, they start the process of getting him prepped for you. They remove all the bonds, drip taken out afterwards, and have one of the bulkier employees carry him over their shoulder like a sack of grains.

You step to the side, allowing them to exit their van, just to lead them into the dilapidated garage. Rubbish, dust piles, as well as weeds decorate the ground before you. While there is a house attached to this abandoned hole, you don’t use it. The house has more damage to it than the garage itself, all thanks to some squatters; there may have been a few drunk, teenage party animals who pitched in too, though that remains unproven. There’s no use in trying to clean up the rest of the place, the garage being the most stable despite its looks; there’s still electricity running through the place, leading to your computer set-up, including a portable heater for when the nights get a little too chilling.

You motion towards a spot in the corner of the room with a dog bed on the floor to have some cushion against the concrete ground. A few blankets are thrown haphazardly near it, the portable heater pointing towards the corner. Along the wall, there are some old pipes, carrying water to the shower a few feet away.

To you, the place looks more like a basement than some abandoned garage, and you can’t help but think you got lucky when nabbing this place. With it purchased under one of your many aliases, the trespassing has been cut down greatly; a few shots from a hidden gun does wonders on chasing them away too.

The business-casual dressed worker sets your merchandise on the dog bed as you gesture towards said spot, being careful as to not cause any damages. Those who aren’t careful with purchased goods tend to disappear, as is stated in The Auctioneer’s policy; only the best is expected, after all.

With your new companion disposed of in his respective spot, you give the worker a dismissive wave. You don’t have to watch them leave, hearing their footsteps retreat. You approach your desk, pulling open the bottom drawer to find your desired items. Shoving aside a few snacks, you pull out a pair of handcuffs, and a chain hook connected to a heavy-duty chain; the chain gives two feet of length if used correctly. With your items acquired, you kick the drawer closed.

You approach the unconscious man, knowing he won’t be that way for long. You loop the chain around the pipe, using the hook to lock it in place. With the chain secured, you put one of the chain loops in one of the handcuffs, tightening the cuff until you can’t click the metal any farther. With everything now set up, you lock the cuff around your prize’s wrist; it isn’t tight enough to cut into the meat of his wrist, but it will cause bruising if he yanks on it.

Now that your possession is secured, you throw one of the discarded blankets over him in some semblance of care for the man. A ping from your computer notifies you of a possible correspondence. Leaving the man to continue with his rest, you instead place your focus on work. The office chair is pulled out, creaking with your weight as you plop down in it. A click of your mouse causes the multitude of monitors to light up. Your helmet provides cover from the bright lights, the tinted lens serving its purpose well.

The clacking of your keycaps fills the rotting room, replying to messages from clients about any delays or issues they may be concerned about. Other responses are to those like you, sending out warnings on which clients to avoid and what people to not try messing with when it comes to their valuable privacy. A familiar last name comes up in those encryptions, leading to you sending one to those you’ve worked with: Goffard. Auction. Bought. Both. Location Unknown . You knew the moment you heard that last name, it wouldn’t be long before there would be reports in the hidden parts of the web about it.

Father. Killings. Watch out. Another code says, the word of caution making a warbled hum leave you.

Other Buyers. Not User. Safe. That’s your last response, seemingly making the others let up. Perhaps they thought you had bought the men, but with your short messages, their worries are put at ease. You’re sure these correspondences will be sent to the men’s father, only leading him down another path, as two of his heirs are missing. That is none of your concern, however, as people like you are highly sought after. You wouldn’t be surprised if he asks for aid from one of you; he may or may not care for his sons, but he certainly will care for his business and image.

A gasp not far from you alerts you to your captive. You turn to look towards your right, hands not leaving the keyboard. Tom has huddled up close to the pipes, staring at you with wide brown eyes; his pupils seem contracted, merely pinpricks with how he shakes in terror. To see such small pupils almost makes you proud of your apparent ability to intimidate without even trying, though you usually see dilated ones for those in fear. Maybe it truly does just vary from person to person.

“Rise and shine, Sweetheart,” you adopt a mocking tone despite the modulator forcing it to sound monotone.

“How long was I..?” He asks, though it’s more hesitant than anything. You find it cute that he thinks there’ll be some sort of repercussions for possessing curiosity.

“A few hours, give or take. Nearly the entire day, maybe. Then again, it’s hard to tell considering I haven’t kept track of the time,” your insincere chagrin is coated in the surgery sweetness of falsehood; if it had been an actual treat, it would have rotted your teeth out. 

“What do you want from me?” Tom sounds a little more confident with this question; it’s not by much, if you’re being honest.

“Companionship, a pet, someone to complain to, and whatever else I want you to be,” you’re blunt with the answer, no use sugar-coating why you purchased him. “Believe it or not, Tom , it tends to get very quiet here. Unless I’m dealing with a very crass client. Then there’s screaming from them and shit-talking from me.” You put emphasis on his name, showing that you do, in fact, know it. He likely doesn’t even know the half of how much you know about him; the summary The Auctioneer gave you couldn’t cover the array of other things you’ve found out about him.

With some digging, you knew his parents came all the way from the city of Nazca, stationed on the southern coast of Peru, leaving before he was conceived. Following their trail further, you found that his parents now reside in Eatonia, Saskatchewan of Canada. Looking a bit more into Tom himself, you saw that he was born and raised there, only moving to a more university based town after his high school graduation. You did have someone take a few pictures of his dorm in your place; at first, you were unsure if Thomas practiced anything relating to Nazca culture, but the few hand-made pottery and ceramic items placed around show he still has a connection. You also spied a few small plants in his dorm, grown by his own hands, if the dates on the hand-made plant pots said anything about that; there were even care instructions next to each one.

From your own research into Nazca culture, you knew there was an emphasis placed on agriculture as well as an array of crafts like pottery, ceramics, and textiles. Even as a full-time college student pursuing media development centered around sound design, he still has time to stay connected to those before him.

“You won’t be letting me go, will you?” Tom sounds devastated at this revelation, his words rousing you from your silent recollection of your findings on him. At least he caught on quick enough without you having to spell it out for him.

“I wouldn’t buy you just to throw you out. What a waste of money,” your scoff can be heard through the helmet. He looks to be cowed at the sound, making that small bit of pride nestle close to your heart. You look back over at him, watching his shaking form. A loud sigh spills from your lips, catching his attention. “Behave and your little spot will be upgraded. I’ll even let you continue your college courses. Online, of course, and monitored carefully. I don’t need you running off the moment you think you taste freedom.”

Your words seem to be enough to comfort Tom, his eyes shining at the idea of having some semblance of normalcy despite the circumstances, seeming to recognize that this is a far better fate than he might have received otherwise as an unwilling captive.

“I’ll- I can behave! I promise I will!” His eager words make you nod.

“I’ll hold you to those words, Thomas. Remember, I have eyes and ears everywhere . So long as you behave, you’ll get whatever you want.” His nod seals the deal, leading you to go back towards your work. If everything works out, he’ll be more than some glorified pet in this run-down shit-hole.

-------------------------------------

“How was your day out?” Tom sits on your couch, laptop in hand, with notebooks spread across your coffee-table.

“You know how I always complain about my clients, yeah?” You flop down next to him, spreading out on the couch. Ever since you bought him from that auction, he’s kept his word; no running, no sending SOS messages through his email to family or college, or screaming for help when you do take him out of your flat. In fact, you never even had to hurt or manhandle him in any way to keep him from fleeing. Due to this, you’ve kept your word. Instead of that shit-hole of a garage, he’s been moved to your own apartment. From some pet to a possible friend, he’s been living with you for nearly a year now. You buy him whatever he wants, giving him anything he asks for. All he has to do, in return, is stay.

“You did mention this specific one two days ago. Is she complaining again?” He asks, writing some notes down. Your scoff makes him glance at you for a second before continuing with his work.

“More like trying to get me to redo the entire 143-page document I created after saying they wanted every little piece of info I could gather on her target. She says it’s too much, but won’t pay me to cut down and summarize the information.” You adjust yourself so you’re leaning against his side, watching him work. Tom doesn’t even react to your touch as you keep talking. “Like, what do you mean you want me to do more work without being paid for it? That’s not happening. You can find someone else to redo my work if you’re that upset with it.”

“As you said, she can find someone else if she won’t pay you. You did what she asked, so that's on her for giving you the wrong instructions.” There’s a pause as he stops his note-taking. You watch him collect himself as he tries to find the words to express what he wants. “Can I… Go out later today?”

“Take your phone with you,” it’s more of a demand than anything, and Tom knows it. You can’t risk losing him if he does leave. 

“Of course! I… I wouldn’t leave it behind. You told me you have eyes everywhere…” There’s acceptance in his words, knowing that you’d find him no matter what.

“Good. Then you can go out. Make sure to be careful. Worse comes to worst, you’re hurt, and I have to get my hands dirty to make sure it doesn’t happen again.” Your hands twitch at the thought of having to take another life to ensure Tom is off limits. You’ve already made it clear within your informant group through a series of warnings and threats.

“And if I’m dead?” It’s asked casually, almost like he expects to die on one of his trips.

“The only way that happens is if I allow it.”

》START OVER?《

[rat-meat]

tht mouse vs rat quiz going around is so funnie bcuz itz so easy but ive seen a few ppl i follow who only got 11/12 n im like. which 1 of these funky guyz tripped u up

[ducktracy]

GORGEOUS and delightfully fervent animation by the great irv spence. “the three ratz brothers” is a parody of the ritz brothers, a less well-known comedy group whose antics were recognized and parodied by talents such as tex avery/irv spence (as we see here) and jack king/ward kimball in disney’s the autograph hound (1939).

[julemmaes]

His love beside him

“When are you going to realize that I don’t care about you?“

Thomas Lightwood and Alastair Carstairs angst os

OH BOY, I MEAN

I LOVE THEM SO MUCH BUT I GOTTA KEEP HURTING THEM AND I’M NOT THAT BRAVE TO END ‘EM BAD SO YEAH IT IS ANGSTY BUT ALASTAIR DESERVES TO BE HAPPY

FUCK EVERYTHING

Word count: 3,838

The boy ran a hand over his face holding in a sob. Everything hurt.

The waters of the Thames seemed to want to take him and pull him down, the waves rising bigger every second and the splashes on the wall did not struggle to reach where he was sitting, on the edge of the wall, which ended overhanging the turbid waters. A drop fell on his cheek and the twitch of his eye made him sigh.

He shook his head. No, he would not have cried any more tears that evening. Too many had already been shed. He winced when he touched his cheekbone. He could already feel his skin swelling around his eye as he was struggling to keep it open. He put a finger to his eyebrow and did nothing but touch it that a sharp pain took over his whole face. He dropped his hand, swearing. He wanted to forget everything, get lost for a few hours, but just the idea of touching a bottle of alcohol made his stomach turn. He touched his pocket for the ninth time hoping to find his stelee there, and for the ninth time he ended disappointed. He must have left it to Cordelia.

He took a deep breath thinking of his Layla and his brother, so small, yet forced to grow up quickly, in a house more broken than the one where he had grown up in. He was just hoping the Herondales were calming them down. When he had left her at the Institute with Kia a few hours before she was trembling and had not yet cried, or said a word, since they had left their house.

He knew that James and Matthew were not there when they arrived, the same was true for Lucie, who was now in Idris, but at least William and Tessa would be able to soothe her. And as soon as James knew what had happened he would run to the Institute. He must have caught up with her by now.

Maybe Alastair should have gone back too, he thought, to check on them. But every time he tried to get up the enormity of what had just happened would pour down on him and an invisible force would push him back to the ground.

He tightened the grip around the lamppost, which was off and let the shadows move as they wanted.

That night, he came home exhausted, physically and mentally, from patrolling with Charles and two other shadowhunters their age. The two had remained on good terms after he had broke up with him at James and his sister’s engagement party, but Charles continued to ask him if there was someone else, if he had found someone to keep him company, Not that loved him, as if their relationship had always represented that. As if Alastair represented a lady-in-waiting every time Charles wasn’t in Alicante speaking politics.

I worry about you, Charles told him to justify his nosey character, but Alastair knew he was only doing it so he could have control over his life again. He hadn’t felt love for Charles for some months now, his heart already belonged to someone else, but his chest still tightened whenever they were in the same room.

He had just walked two steps from the door, when his father had stormed out of the kitchen, holding onto the door frame with a dirty hand. The wrinkled hair and clothes and shiny red eyes were enough to show what conditions Elias was in in that moment. And in case the breath that smelled of alcohol and his appearance were not enough proof of his state of intoxication, surely the bottle of gin in the other hand would confirm someone’s suspicions. Alastair couldn’t remember the last time his father was sober.

During Sona’s pregnancy, Elias was sent to the Basilias to get cured and a he came out a new man. Or at least that’s what his mother and sister kept saying once he got home.

Alastair had known him as a drunkard, a slacker, someone too scared to face the reality, but when he was released after the trial, Cordelia had forced himself to be cured. She had begged on his knees and their father had looked at her with tears in his eyes, nodding, shocked. He had thrown himself down next to her, asking for forgiveness and repeating words that to Alastair’s ears had seemed pointless.

No one would give him back his childhood anyway, but he had agreed to go with him up to Alicante and had allowed himself to be hugged when his father had sought comfort in him, feeling for half a second a dash of affection towards the man.

Yet Alastair could not find even a spark of that love as he watched him stumble towards him. He had grabbed his shoulder to keep him standing, when his legs didn’t seem firm enough to hold him up, but he had pushed him against the wall and he had come so close to his face that it was difficult to suppress the gag that had gone up in his throat to the strong smell of sweat and alcohol that his father emanated, "Have at least the decency to do it in your room."

Elias had opened an eye to look at him and then laughed in his face before being shaken by a gag and vomiting on his gear and boots. Clothes he was still wearing.

He looked at his chest holding his breath and, with his hand on his collar, decided that he would rather die of cold than look like a drunken tramp and began to untie the upper part of the gear. As he took his shirt off his head, he touched his face and clenched his teeth to suppress a grunt of pain. He had to find a stelee, and he had to do it fast. The longer he waited, the more the bruise would stay there in perfect view so that everyone could think about what reckless life he led. Not that he cared anyway.

Elias was drinking again right after Sona died. While suckling Kia sitting on the couch, he was draining liters and liters of wine or any kind of alcohol that was in the house. At the beginning he was good at keeping it a secret, but when the empty bottles hidden under the sofa had begun to tinkle, the older children had discovered him and Kia was no longer alone with his father. Not one goddamn time.

When Cordelia found him in those conditions, things ended quickly. She took him out of the chair and, bearing his father’s weight, took him to his room, where he fainted from the amount of alcohol ingested. When Alastair came home to a drunk father, he couldn’t help himself and they started fighting until one of them threw the first punch and the son had to block him before he could break something or get really hurt.

But that night he had only commented that if he would have ever become half the man that Elias had never been, then he could have considered himself proud. His father had straightened up and Alastair hadn’t seen the first punch coming. He had fallen on the ground and had hit his head so hard against the baseboard that he had been stunned for a few seconds and had not been able to react with the same promptness as always.

It was Cordelia who had taken his father off him, who, exhausted by the sprint he had just taken to hit Alastair, did not react at all when he had fallen on the ground. She had taken the minimum necessary and kept Kia on her side, the child’s head hidden in her neck, before running to the Institute. Elias didn’t even try to follow them.

Alastair trembled. The white shirt that remained on him was of no use against the stinging air of London. He turned to look down at the river. A twinge of pain passed through his head and carrying his hand to the back of his nape, hissing when he touched the point where a open cut spread right over the hairline. He decided that yes, he had to go back to the Institute. Most likely he had a concussion and walking around the streets of London half-naked at that hour, with an open wound, it was just a call for trouble.

He heard the sound of swift steps to his right and slightly bending his neck, he saw the blurry figure of a man running towards him. He was yelling something, probably Alastair’s name, because whatever he was saying, the sound was familiar. He blinked his eyes trying to focus, but couldn’t. He put his head on the pole that had supported him until that moment and almost fell back into the black waters of the Thames. A warm hand with a firm grip closed around his arm, blocking his fall, and he vaguely heard the voice of the stranger repeating his name.

His head was starting to spin really hard. He giggled, thinking how ironic it would be if he fell into the river, too, like Cordelia did almost two years ago. The Enclave would certainly have thought that their family had some kind of affinity for fish if they wanted to swim so much.

He felt two muscular arms wrapping around his waist while who had saved him from certain death tried to make him lie down on the ground, putting a hand behind his neck and slowly resting his head on the cold stone. He felt the stranger curse and then the warm and familiar feeling of the stelee on his neck. And then again on his wrist.

He moaned when someone put on him what was supposed to be a jacket and the warmth entered his veins. They sat him up and he found his forehead leaning against someone’s shoulder, someone who smelled something he would recognize everywhere. Lightwood.

A few seconds passed and Alastair was immediately hyperaware of what surrounded him. His head always in the hollow of Thomas' neck while he drew the umpteenth iratze on his neck. And then suddenly he found himself staring into his face, eyes starring eyes, lips a few inches away.

Thomas seemed to realize that the other was at least able to see him, and he sighed with relief, closing his eyes for a second, before taking his chin between his fingers and turning his head sideways. Alastair wasn’t breathing. A little bit for the pain that went gradually diminishing in the eye, a little bit because the last person he would have wanted to see in that moment had just saved his life.

"I’ve been looking for you for the last two and a half hours." breathed Thomas softly, so close to his face that he felt the breath of warm air against his nose, "Cordelia was going crazy when I arrived. There’s James with her now." at the name of his sister he snapped, moving the boy off of him, but dizziness hit him and the other was there to steady him. Alastair shook him off with a sharp movement and saw Thomas' eyebrows squirting upward.

"Did you walk here?" asked Alastair surly.

Thomas seemed confused for a moment, "Of course I walked here. I needed to find and the carriage would have slowed me down." said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. As if Thomas needing to find him was the most normal thing.

"Where are we?" Alastair asked looking around and not recognizing the place, the head pain almost completely vanished.

"We are close to the Victoria Embankment Gardens," Thomas said, taking a hesitant step towards him, "we are only twenty minutes from the Institute."

"Perfect." he whispered, turning to Thomas, picking up the jacket that had slipped off him and passing it to him. "Thank you for finding me. And for the runes." he said without looking him in the eye. Only in that moment did he realize how much the other seemed shaken, heavy breaths coming out of his lips, sweat dripping down his forehead, on his neck and inside the neckline of his shirt… He looked away quickly, turning towards the other side of the river and deciding whether to pass by the riverside or inland.

"Alastair." Thomas' voice was almost inaudible, but Alastair heard it as loud as a thunder "Maybe you should sit down, you hit your head pretty strong and you might have complications if you don’t relax for a second."

Alastair suddenly turned to him, taking a threatening step in his direction. The other one didn’t move an inch, "What do you know about my head?" he almost growled at him.

"I-" Thomas muttered, "I don’t know, I was just worried about you. The others told me that you were injured and that you practically fled before they could hold you. I don’t know what happened." he said in a hurry. "I left as soon as they told me you were out here unarmed. The others are looking for you, too." Thomas finished, reaching out to him, his coat still hanging in between them. Alastair moved to the side, avoiding his touch and the other flinched as if something had burned him.

"Good. Because nothing happened. Now excuse me, but I have to go to my family." Alastair said, sounding almost awkward. He was about to pass him and walk towards the Institute, when Thomas grabbed him by the arm stopping him, and Alastair trembled for the hundredth time that night, only this time it wasn’t the cold. "Let. Me. Go." he said through his teeth.

"No. Who gave you that black eye?"

Thomas' voice seemed much more confident than a few seconds before and the other found himself thinking they wouldn’t leave so soon. Because he wouldn’t talk and Thomas wouldn’t let him go until he did. But he might as well try.

"It’s none of your business. And I’m sure James has already told you everything." Because Cordelia definitely told her husband what happened.

"I already told you. I left the second I knew you were unarmed. I don’t know anything about what happened. And the sooner you tell me who did this to you, the sooner you can go and do whatever you want." Thomas answered in tone, looking for his gaze. "As long as what you want doesn’t include jumping into the Thames." he ended with a sarcastic smile. And Alastair realized what he was trying to do. He was holding him there to prevent him from running to the Institute and turning his brain to mush.

"I’m not in the mood for your bullshit, Lightwood, so let me go. I gotta get back to Cordelia." he said freeing himself from Thomas’s grip and starting to walk towards Fleet Street. He thought he had made it when the imposing figure of the other appeared before him and he almost hit his nose on Thomas’s chest. He closed his eyes clenching his fists, trying to calm down.

"Move out of my way."

"No."

"Move. I said."

"And I said no." he came even closer, forcing him to step back. "Cordelia must be sleeping at this time," they both knew that was a lie and that, until all the Carstairs siblings were under the same roof, the girl wouldn’t sleep a wink, "Kai as well. So tell me what the hell happened tonight."

"Why do you even care?" even as he said it, Alastair realized how stupid that question was.

He knew full well that Thomas had very strong feelings for him, had stopped hiding them a few months after Alastair’s sister’s marriage, when he had let slip that he had broken up with Charles once and for all, coming out in front of the whole group of friends.

They had started going out more often and there was some stolen kisses, but nothing more. Alastair had stopped reaching out to him when they found out about his father’s relapse, withdrawing into himself.

Not because he was ashamed. No. It wasn’t his thing to be ashamed of. But if something like tonight had happened while Thomas was there with him, he would never forgive himself. There were things, as Shadowhunters, that Alastair could not spare him, but that nonsense that seemed so far from their world, so human, that, he could keep it away from the best part of himself. If it touched Thomas he would become black and dark like everything else in his life, and he could not allow the one light that pushed him forward to go out. He just couldn’t do it.

As he looked away at anything other than the boy in front of him, he heard Thomas laughing, but there was no amusement in that sound. He saw with the corner of his eye that the other was moving to the side, and when he turned to him, he had a hand reaching towards the road, now free from all restrictions. Alastair hesitated, ready to snap sideways if he tried to stop him again, but it didn’t happen, and Thomas stood still behind him.

Until, "Go, Alastair. Go. But just so you know, I’m not gonna wait for you forever."

Everything around him stopped. The wind among the leaves, the roar of the river. His heart.

"I can’t take it anymore." Thomas said in a lower voice, "I can’t take it anymore. I don’t know what your aim is. I don’t know what you want me to do." He took a shivering breath, rubbing his hand on his face, "First, you kiss me-t."

"It was you who kissed me." Alastair interrupted him, remembering the first time Thomas had stooped on him and had laid his lips on-

"Does it really matter?" he asked in an exasperated tone, staying two metres from Alastair, who continued to turn his back on him. "Because I think I’m falling in love with you, Alastair. And I’m terrified." Thomas said, moving towards him, "And I can’t understand why you do this. You push me away and I’m here, loving you, and I see you, Alas. I see you." Thomas' voice was reduced to a whisper now. “I see the way you think you’re all tough and strong. But you don’t have to. If you just let me-”

The tone so hoarse that he hardly recognized his own voice when, without looking at him, he asked him, "When are you going to realize that I don’t care about you?"

Alastair did not see him, but he felt the moment when Thomas’ heart disintegrated. He felt it because his own lay at his feet, cut into pieces. His throat tightened and he thought he could die when Thomas spoke, "This is not who you are." he murmured, keeping his tears at bay. Alastair turned around, quickly closing the distance between them and throwing both hands on Thomas’s chest, who, taken aback, tripped on his own feet, backing away a few steps. An expression of complete betrayal on the face.

"You don’t know anything about me. Much less who I am! So stop!" Now Alastair was screaming and his eyes filled with tears as he approached Thomas again, beating his fists on his chest one more time, "You know nothing! Nothing!" he screamed on his face, looking him in the eyes. "You can’t come and save the day as if it is nothing and say you love me, Thomas! You just can’t, fuck!" he raised his voice even more when he broke down and hot tears of anger rushed down his cheeks.

Thomas, frowny eyebrows, utter shock on his features, looked wide-eyed at a completely broken Alastair. He took his wrists in his hands and when he tried to free himself, he squeezed tighter. A particularly strong sob broke through Alastair, who crouched on the other and Thomas could only carry his arms around the boy he loved and who was now slowly fallin apart under his eyes.

"I don’t want you to end up like me." Alastair finally whispered. Thomas felt his heart breaking again and wondered how it was possible. He squeezed him tighter as he kept crying.

"I won’t end up like you. I promise." he whispered kissing his temple, bringing a hand to caress his head, being carefl not to touch the now-healed wound. "And I promise you that whatever it is, Alastair, we’ll work through it together. You’re not alone in this." he had to clear his throat before he could continue.

"I love you, Alas, I’ve always loved you and this matter never made me doubt my love for you. There hasn’t been a second in my entire life that I’ve looked at you and I haven’t thought about how much you’re worth it." he cupped Alastair’s cheeks in his hands, pressing their forheads together, his eyes closed. "I love you."

Alastair opened his eyes, tiptoeing to kiss him and Thomas went down on him, meeting him halfway, smashing their lips in a kiss full of desperation. He was kissing him as he had kissed him the first time, with passion, as if it were something he could do all day without ever getting tired. The guttural sound that came out of Thomas' mouth made Alastair separate his lips slightly and Thomas took the hint, wrapping his tongue with that of the boy in front of him, in a harmonious dance that didn’t need no music. The only sound that of their breaths mixing to form a battle cry. They moved gracefully, as if they had done it for years and their hands traveled on each other’s bodies, uniting as teeth and tongues collided, ravenous.

They broke off from one another only when the lack of oxygen made them see everything black and were forced to catch their breath.

Alastair was still crying, but now on, his swollen lips, there was a shy smile.

He had his arms wrapped around Thomas' neck and Thomas was holding him, his hands hidden under the thin white fabric of Alastair’s shirt. Every spot where his body came into contact with the skin of the other, burned and in that moment he really believed he could survive only of that feeling.

"What special treatment do you keep for the people you care about if you leave this one to the ones you don’t care about?" Thomas joked, holding him tighter. Alastair laughed and put his head between his neck and his shoulder, whispering idiot.

And after so much time spent denying what he felt for Thomas, he even allowed himself to believe that he would have made it through everything if he had his love beside him.

And he promised himself not to let his light turn off, ever. He would not allow anyone to break what they had just conquered.

taglist:

@tyherondaletrash @clara-sm ​ @panicatwallmaria

[therealmartymouse]

Rat Train - the last leg

Rat Train – the last leg

When we arribed in San Framcisco to the Rattie Ratz annex at Ena’s house, there were 4 cages ob babies waiting for the next leg ob their adbenture.  The boys were waiting wiff their other brothers and sisters that came from Grants Pass OR (under the care ob our great friend Molly, who you might remember from the last unicorm conbenshun).   Dis was the first night we were seeing them – so some you…

[unsympathetic-angst]

Remus is actually terrified of rats and Roman likes them. Roman finds out and fills Remus' room with rats that get all his artwork gross and make him have a panic attack when he gets back (I love rats btw, I just am thinking about it 👁️👁️)

ngl i read this wrong and thought u meant remus gets stuck in the room with the ratz,,,also ratz r babiez,,writing this hurt

TW: U!Roman, panic attacks, crying, tugging at hair, rats, trapped in room, loss of breath, lmk of other things to tag. 

Everyone had their own embarrassing secret and for Remus, it was his fear of rats. He never liked the small animal for unexplainable reasons but he didn't need a reason for his fear, as all he knew was that if he saw a rat he'd leave the room immediately or else he'd hyperventilate from fear. Remus hadn't intended for any of the other sides to find out, however, one morning Patton announced that Roman's rat was loose and the fear in his face must have been prominent as each side looked at him with a confused expression.

 "You okay Remus?" Patton asks," you look pale."

 "Yeah paler than me which isn't good," Virgil adds jokingly.

 Remus lets out a laugh," oh yeah I'm fine!"

 His brother, Roman, raised an eye at that," oh look my rat is right behind you."

 "Is it?!" Remus shrieked, jumping away turning to find nothing but a clean carpet.

 His ears flushed red as Roman began laughing," you're scared of rats?! Oh, my stars that's hysterical!"

 "Fuck you!"

 "Language Remus!" Patton interiors sternly.

 Remus looks at Patton bewildered," he just-oh whatever I'm heading to the imagination see you twinks later."

 Roman finished laughing with a wide grin. An idea unexpectedly popped into his head and he couldn't help but let out a low giggle.

———

 Remus returned to his room sweaty and exhausted. He let out a bit too much anger onto the monsters of the imagination but the feeling of embarrassment was too overbearing. He despised how he fell for his brother's dumb joke. Remus let out a low sigh as he plummeted onto his bed hugging his pillow when he heard a quiet low squeak.

 The intrusive side sat up surveying the room when he caught sight of Roman's rat. His heart began accelerating as he jumped to feet and ran for the door only to find it locked. Remus swore under his breath as he began turning the door handle trying to budge it open," Roman I swear to all things evil if you're doing this I'll kill you!"

 "Bet you wouldn't!" He heard Roman shout from behind the door.

 "Let me out your stupid rat is in here!!" Remus continued to frantically try opening the door with no sign of the door opening.

 "I know I found him after you left, but as a good brother, I decided that you and my pet should get alon! Think of it as therapy or something," Roman cackled.

 Remus turned to face his room now seeing there were two rats on his desk," why are there two of them?!"

 "Oh yeah there might be oh, I don't know a dozen rats in there."

 Remus banged on the door loudly whilst he each breath of air felt like a stab to his chest.

 "I'll be back soon!"

 "Roman doesn't leave me!! Please please let me out I promise I'll do whatever!" There was no answer as Remus continued banging at the door," Roman!! Roman!! Fuck!!"

 Remus could feel his heartbeat against his chest. The blood rushing to his head as his vision blurred from the tears that were dripping down his face. He looked at the small rodents terrified sweating as if he just ran a marathon. Remus felt the lump in his throat as all strength he had left him while he collapsed onto the floor. He placed a hand over his mouth in a desperate attempt to hide his paranoid cries as he scanned the room. The small rodents were skimming around his art destroying his art and bed without care for the man. Although they stayed away from him, Remus was terrified that one would run up to him as he'd most likely faint if it happened. Remus let out a choked breath while he clinging onto his hair begging for it all to be a bad dream.

 Remus didn't know how long until the door opened again and all the rats disappeared. Remus was still shaking but he felt a weight lift off his shoulders.

 "Man you look terrible and over rats too," Roman joked as he picked up his rat from his brother's bed," they're just rats, I can't believe you got so scared over that."

 Remus nods in acknowledgment, a feeling of shame now rising.

 "Well, whatever that was a fun joke!" Roman smiled and patted the intrusive side's shoulder, ignoring how he flinched at the touch.

 Remus didn't sleep in his bed for days after that.

[jeffverse]

So some things I've noted so far: Grease and Nine are an iconic duo and I love them, Corpse is an absolute DARLING but I am slightly concerned about him (are those bones in his shakedown?), Andy is 100% a homosexual, and I really wanna know more about The Ratz!! Oh and Pirate is the cutest little thing I've ever seen and I hope he gets nothing but love.

-👁️‍🗨️

Okay first, thank you I put a lot of hard work into making Pirate a baby because tbh I feel like jeffhouse would crumble if they didn't have one to keep them in check (/j), and SECONDLY! The Ratz gang! I can talk about them some more!

The Ratz are comprised of well- every young person in the house. Anyone who is, or acts like a kid, is likely part of the gang. So Corpse, Pirate, Praline and Tulpa are all included. The Ratz don't really have a leader persé, but the main members, at least as I see it, are the Punk Brothers. Cas, N and Dally. Those three are almost inseparable and you'll often find them causing chaos all over town (in between getting smoothies and feeding stray dogs).

The Ratz get up to all kinds of shenanigans. Sometimes it's decorating their clubhouse, getting ice cream, or just going to the park, and sometimes they're urban exploring, catching bugs or committing vandalism! It really depends on the day and who's hanging out. Also Spirit. He's their funny talking animal sidekick. He likes to 'protect' them during their shenanigans.

-Mod CC

Hi! Mod Ez here, I’m so glad you like Corpse. He really is a darling. He’s always eager to help out around the house and is very close to the younger members of the house (despite being 20 or so).

By the way. Yes, those were real human bones in his shakedown. 😁

- Mod Ez

[theseimmortalsouls]

my nephew calls bratz ratz.. he says "jasper wants rats" and i thought he genuinely requested his brother be covered in rats.. but he was saying that i should put bratz on.

[meowtalhead]

Tagged by: @random-jot thank you! 😺

1. Favorite color: I can't decide! Light blue or black maybe? When I do watercolor I use a lot of blue, orange, and yellow

2. Last Song I Listened to: Blut im Auge by Equilibrium

3. Favorite Musicians: Oh I have a ton! I'm going to list as many as I can right now! Beartooth, Ghost, Atreyu, Powerwolf, Helloween, AC/DC, Metallica, Armory, MCR, Volbeat, Arch Enemy, Deep Purple, Equilibrium, Avatar, Cherry Brat, Bullpup, The Fairview, and my friend Alex Solo who used to be in Cherry Brat but left to pursue a… Solo career. Basically any punk, hard rock, or metal I'm presented with I instantly fall in love

4. Favorite song: In Between by Beartooth!

5. The last movie I watched: Star Wars episode III. My brother is a huge star wars nerd

6. Favorite places I've been to: That's a tough one because I love to travel. I think I'll have to say Montreal! My friend @salty-co-jp and I went to Heavy Montreal last summer, and we had a great time!

7. Last Book I Finished: honestly I can't remember the last time I read for fun. I guess I'll just say the principles of sociology textbook for my online class. I'd like to get back into reading though!

8. Sweet, Savory, or Spicy: All of them!

9. Sparkling Water, Tea, or Coffee: I like tea and coffee about equally, but I won't drink black coffee. I love sweet things full of cream and sugar, like matcha, chai, and pumpkin spice lattes. I hate sparkling water with a burning passion.

10. First thing I'll do after quarantine: Not sure, but whatever I do it will be with my friends! I'll probably have a few people over to watch a movie or something

Tagging: @yourwagonisntonfire @storm-ghoul @animalcrossingnewhorizons @them-ratz and anyone else who wants to do it! 🙃

[kiwisimie]

𝐆𝐞𝐭 𝐓𝐨 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐚𝐠 !! 

RULES: Post a pic of your simself with your traits and answer the questions!

TRAITS: loner, music lover, clumsy

tagged by: the great @honeybeqr

✩ QUESTIONS 1. WHAT IS YOUR FULL NAME? um just esther is fine 2. WHAT IS YOUR NICKNAME? mum, wife, goldfish, and esti 3. BIRTHDAY? 3rd july 4. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE BOOK SERIES? um I don’t really read series but princess diaries and dork diaries are pretty fun 5.  DO YOU BELIEVE IN ALIENS OR GHOSTS? honestly idk like I believe in the after life and there kinda has to something out there 6. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE AUTHOR? rainbow rowell 7. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE RADIO STATION? I always force my dad to play capital when i’m in his car sooooo I guess its capital (?) 8. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FLAVOR OF ANYTHING? vanilla and chocolate ( cant go wrong with the classics ) 9. WHAT WORD OR PHRASE WOULD YOU USE OFTEN TO DESCRIBE SOMETHING GREAT OR WONDERFUL? cool, good, um great as you can see my vocabulary isn’t that advanced 10. WHAT IS YOUR CURRENT FAVORITE SONG? japanese denim - Daniel Caesar, closely followed by broke - samm hemshaw 11. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE WORD? pueblo, it means village/town in spanish 12. WHAT WAS THE LAST SONG YOU LISTENED TO? i’m listening to the schuyler sisters as I write this 13. WHAT TV SHOW WOULD YOU RECOMMEND FOR EVERYBODY TO WATCH? modern family and the simspons 14. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE MOVIE TO WATCH WHEN YOU’RE FEELING DOWN? the princess and the frog, it has good songs 15. DO YOU PLAY VIDEO GAMES? not really i’m more of a lets play watcher 16. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST FEAR? disappointing people and death 17.  WHAT IS YOUR BEST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? i’m very empathetic/sympathetic, I try to see things from the person’s perspective 18. WHAT IS YOUR WORST QUALITY, IN YOUR OPINION? I tend to shut down a lot and just hide away suddenly 19. DO YOU LIKE CATS OR DOGS BETTER? I guess dogs but i’m not really an animal person 20. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SEASON? summer for sure 21. ARE YOU IN A RELATIONSHIP? with stress? yes 22. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU MISS FROM YOUR CHILDHOOD? being able to fluently speak french 23. WHO IS YOUR BEST FRIEND? um next 24. WHAT IS YOUR EYE COLOR? dark brown 25. WHAT IS YOUR HAIR COLOR? its really dark brown so it just looks black 26. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU LOVE? my family 27. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU TRUST? once again me family 28. WHO IS SOMEONE YOU THINK ABOUT OFTEN? my friends 29. ARE YOU CURRENTLY EXCITED ABOUT/FOR SOMETHING? the half term 30. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST OBSESSION? fanfics, kpop, bullet journals and stationary ( an odd combo of things I know ) 31. WHAT WAS YOUR FAVORITE TV SHOW AS A CHILD? totally spies, les zinzins de l'espace, and ratz 32. WHO OF THE OPPOSITE GENDER CAN YOU TELL ANYTHING TO, IF ANYONE? my brother, he’s a real g 33. ARE YOU SUPERSTITIOUS? not really 34. DO YOU HAVE ANY UNUSUAL PHOBIAS? I cant with butterflies I panic a bit when they fly near me 35. DO YOU PREFER TO BE IN FRONT OF THE CAMERA OR BEHIND IT? I like having the memories when i’m in front of it but I do like being behind it 36. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE HOBBY? playing instruments, reading and making sims 37. WHAT WAS THE LAST BOOK YOU READ? fangirl by rainbow rowell thoroughly enjoyed it 38. WHAT WAS THE LAST MOVIE YOU WATCHED? the greatest showman I think 39. WHAT MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? piano, some chords on ukulele and guitar, i’ve been taking violin lessons, and I have a clarinet from school that I have yet to play seriously 40. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE ANIMAL? any baby animal is my favourite animal 41. WHAT ARE YOUR TOP 5 FAVORITE TUMBLR BLOGS THAT YOU FOLLOW? anyone that posts is amazing 42. WHAT SUPERPOWER DO YOU WISH YOU HAD? teleportation because i’m a lazy bugger 43. WHEN AND WHERE DO YOU FEEL MOST AT PEACE? in bed listening to music or reading 44. WHAT MAKES YOU SMILE? memes that my friends send me and being with people 45. WHAT SPORTS DO YOU PLAY, IF ANY? I play for my school’s football and netball team and we do loads of different sports during lessons 46. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE DRINK? orange juice 47. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU WROTE A HAND-WRITTEN LETTER OR NOTE TO SOMEBODY? I wrote little messages in all the Christmas cards I gave out last year 48. ARE YOU AFRAID OF HEIGHTS? I don’t think so, ooo do I love the feeling when you’re in a plane and your stomach does that thing when it goes down a bit ( I probably sound crazy ) 49. WHAT IS YOUR BIGGEST PET PEEVE? ermmm slow walkers and being late for no reason 50. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN TO A CONCERT? no :( I really wanted to go to love yourself tour but I couldn’t get a ticket 51. ARE YOU VEGAN/VEGETARIAN? I don’t think I could ever 52. WHEN YOU WERE LITTLE, WHAT DID YOU WANT TO BE WHEN YOU GREW UP? an Olympian, still lowkey want to be one 53. WHAT FICTIONAL WORLD WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE IN?  all of them 54. WHAT IS SOMETHING YOU WORRY ABOUT? exams and nearing everything I say and do ( I am a very anxious child ) 55. ARE YOU SCARED OF THE DARK? kinda 56. DO YOU LIKE TO SING? yes but i’m definitely not talented so you’re not hearing that any time soon 57. HAVE YOU EVER SKIPPED SCHOOL? not without informing the school because i’m a good child 58. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE ON THE PLANET? good question 59. WHERE WOULD YOU LIKE TO LIVE? in a city that’s maybe in another country 60. DO YOU HAVE ANY PETS? no and i’ve never had one 61. ARE YOU MORE OF AN EARLY BIRD OR A NIGHT OWL?  a bit of both I think 62. DO YOU LIKE SUNRISES OR SUNSETS BETTER? sunrise, gotta love golden hour 63. DO YOU KNOW HOW TO DRIVE? no as I am underaged 64. DO YOU PREFER EARBUDS OR HEADPHONES? depends on where I am and what i’m doing 65. HAVE YOU EVER HAD BRACES? no but like all of my friends have 66. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE GENRE OF MUSIC? there is a wide variety 67. WHO IS YOUR HERO? mi madre 68. DO YOU READ COMIC BOOKS? do webtoons and mangas count? 69. WHAT MAKES YOU THE MOST ANGRY? how ignorant someone people are 70. DO YOU PREFER TO READ ON AN ELECTRONIC DEVICE OR WITH A REAL BOOK? definitely real books, I have brought a couple 71. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE SUBJECT IN SCHOOL? music and maths 72. DO YOU HAVE ANY SIBLINGS? yeah I have an older sister, two older brothers and a little sister 73. WHAT WAS THE LAST THING YOU BOUGHT? tipp-ex, a clip-on light and a new moisturiser 74. HOW TALL ARE YOU? 169cm whatever that is in inches 75. CAN YOU COOK? only like the basic things 76. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU LOVE? family, friends and clothes 77. WHAT ARE THREE THINGS THAT YOU HATE? CUCUMBERS and AVOCADOS 78. DO YOU HAVE MORE FEMALE FRIENDS OR MORE MALE FRIENDS? my closer friends are basically all female 79. WHAT IS YOUR SEXUAL ORIENTATION? i’m your everyday heterosexual 80. WHERE DO YOU CURRENTLY LIVE? in the east of england 81. WHO WAS THE LAST PERSON YOU TEXTED? my mum 82. WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU CRIED? a few days when I went to went to watch the curious incident of the dog in the night-time ( that show was a lot to handle ) 83. WHO IS YOUR FAVORITE YOUTUBER? bestdressed I love her personality and her sense of style 84. DO YOU LIKE TO TAKE SELFIES? occasionally 85. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE APP? tumblr, youtube, google keep and huji 86. WHAT IS YOUR RELATIONSHIP WITH YOUR PARENT(S) LIKE? we are get along nicely 87. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE FOREIGN ACCENT? I don’t really have a favourite I find them all pretty entertaining 88. WHAT IS A PLACE THAT YOU’VE NEVER BEEN TO, BUT YOU WANT TO VISIT? italy 89. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE NUMBER? 6 and 3 90. CAN YOU JUGGLE? unfortunately I am not that talented 91. ARE YOU RELIGIOUS? yes 92. DO YOU FIND OUTER SPACE OF THE DEEP OCEAN TO BE MORE INTERESTING? we always watch documentaries about the deep ocean in science lessons and that’s always interesting 93. DO YOU CONSIDER YOURSELF TO BE A DAREDEVIL? hecc no 94. ARE YOU ALLERGIC TO ANYTHING? i’m like 99% i’m not 95. CAN YOU CURL YOUR TONGUE? yes 96. CAN YOU WIGGLE YOUR EARS? when I raise my eyebrows they move 97. HOW OFTEN DO YOU ADMIT THAT YOU WERE WRONG ABOUT SOMETHING? more often then I would like 98. DO YOU PREFER THE FOREST OR THE BEACH? forests 99. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PIECE OF ADVICE THAT ANYONE HAS EVER GIVEN YOU? ‘if you mess up no one’s going to notice unless you allow them to notice it’ my music teachers always say that for performances 100. ARE YOU A GOOD LIAR? I think I can be pretty convincing 101. WHAT IS YOUR HOGWARTS HOUSE? Hufflepuff! 102. DO YOU TALK TO YOURSELF? all the time, it helps me sort out my thoughts and explain things to myself 103. ARE YOU AN INTROVERT OR AN EXTROVERT? I am an introvert ( big surprise there ) and my personality type is isfj 104. DO YOU KEEP A JOURNAL/DIARY? yes but i’ve always been inconsistent with it 105. DO YOU BELIEVE IN SECOND CHANCES? yes 106. IF YOU FOUND A WALLET FULL OF MONEY ON THE GROUND, WHAT WOULD YOU DO? give it to some sort of authority ( like a teacher or the police ) 107. DO YOU BELIEVE THAT PEOPLE ARE CAPABLE OF CHANGE? sure 108. ARE YOU TICKLISH? very 109. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON A PLANE? yes and I love them 110. DO YOU HAVE ANY PIERCINGS? just my ears 111. WHAT FICTIONAL CHARACTER DO YOU WISH WAS REAL? baz and simon ( that’s two I know ) 112. DO YOU HAVE ANY TATTOOS? no 113. WHAT IS THE BEST DECISION THAT YOU’VE MADE IN YOUR LIFE SO FAR? applying for literally everything 114. DO YOU BELIEVE IN KARMA? not really 115. DO YOU WEAR GLASSES OR CONTACTS? I have glasses and I want contacts for when I do sports 116. DO YOU WANT CHILDREN? at some point in my life, yes 117. WHO IS THE SMARTEST PERSON YOU KNOW? I know a lot of people that are smart in different areas of life 118. WHAT IS YOUR MOST EMBARRASSING MEMORY? don’t really want that  on the internet 119. HAVE YOU EVER PULLED AN ALL-NIGHTER?  I always end up falling asleep 120. WHAT COLOR ARE MOST OF YOUR CLOTHES? white, black, a lot of yellow, and red ( I have a lot more colour then I used to ) 121. DO YOU LIKE ADVENTURES? yes 122. HAVE YOU EVER BEEN ON TV? no but my school has been 123. HOW OLD ARE YOU? 14 124. WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE QUOTE? ’ good-night, helen’ the only part of jane eyre I liked 125. DO YOU PREFER SWEET OR SAVORY FOODS? depends on my mood I encourage anyone how wants to do this to go for it :)

[luna-vades]

His Majesty

Swirling vines of green reached for the sky, groping their leaves for the grey clouds above. The early morning dew dripped off the cold plants' stems like earthen rain, and outside of her window, a thin layer of snow still sat on the stone street below, not yet melted from the winter sun, but gradually depleting nonetheless.

Even with the Rat King gone on private business, the whole Kingdom was still buzzing with life. The vendors continued on with their business as usual, but the Ratz that wandered the streets were mostly seen, wandering around aimlessly with no destination...no purpose...

'Without their King... It was as if they lost their will to live.' Luna noted in her field journal as she continued to gaze down at the streets below her window. The morning air was damp and smelled of apples. She leaned down and crossed her arms on the window edge- breathing in the subtle, sweet scent. It calmed her somewhat, and allowed her for a few seconds, to forget her fears and the rising bitterness in her mouth- that reminded her of how her brother had basically thrown her into a prison.

"I hope he doesn't come back."

Luna then opened her eyes slowly, and the movements of a lone figure in the corner of her eyes caught her attention. She felt her heart leapt out of her chest when she saw a head of dirty blonde locks in the distance, and for a single second...she had thought it was her brother- perhaps coming back for her and telling her that he was sorry.

Yet upon a closer look, the figure she saw was instead the Rat King. She had only seen the man once before their meeting in the throne room— a terrifying meeting that she would rather forget. Then the rest of the time, she was reduced to watching him only from a distance, surrounded by crowds of loyal Ratz and admirers.

But still, Luna could tell that something was off about the returning King. His expression was stone cold, and his eyes no longer held any light to them.

It was as if he was a empty shell...

Luna's chest tightened with a familiar heartache as she watched him walk, and recall the first time she had laid her eyes on him. How heart-wrenching it was because of the effort she saw him put into keeping quiet, choking back on his despair so as not to alert anyone else about his weakness.

"He is in pain," Luna remembered her brother mumbling on their way here. "Luna, try and talk to him won't you?" The words that she had once dismissed without a thought, would return to echo throughout her head, and in a moment of bravely, Luna found herself calling out to the King from her window.

"Are you alright. . ?"

No words seemed to penetrate the guise he wore and as he was returning to his home, he heard her words from the window. Perhaps the potion he had taken to hide his emotions was wearing off, so he was a bit vulnerable. Nevertheless, he stopped in his tracks and turned to the window. At first, he had no idea who she was, but he remembered Syltien’s sister. He glared at her and with a low growl, he responded “What the fuck is it to you?”

She had dealt with worse, or at least that was what she told herself as she stared straight into his emotionless eyes. "It's something important." Luna dared to say but found her voice shaking a little out of fear. "I know you are not used to it, but there are people who can care about your well-being."

"Everyone knows pain, but we are not meant to carry it so closely with us forever."

She had gotten his attention. He narrowed his eyes and began to walk toward the window. “People don’t need to care about anything except if I’m going to kill them or not. And what do you know about pain? I offered to take you in because I like your brother. He’s interesting. Otherwise, I wouldn’t have agreed to watching you. Stop asking nosy question or he’s going to be very angry with me...” He glared at her, his breathing heavy as his chest moved up and down with significant cadence.

"But didn't you promised my brother that you'll help me with my field studies..?" Not to sound as if she had anything over him- Luna still found herself suddenly smiling at that realization. "So...in the end... You have to come to my appointments nonetheless."

The King paused and sighed. “I’ll give you one. One! And then you leave me the fuck alone.” He grumbled and turned to walk away. “Fucking brat”

Slightly excited, the girl watches on as the King disappears into the main house, before quickly collecting her things and heading into the throne room herself. This was going to be interesting, she couldn't wait to learn what was going on in that man's head, and maybe...after learning more about the King's way of thinking- She could start to help her brother too.

"Let's do this."

@hmratking

[emilywhite1999]

Female UK Surfers you NEED to be paying attention to!

Females have had to fight a lot for equal rights within their sports in order to be given the same opportunities and privileges as the males in them. Surfing is actually one of the few sports where this kind of discrimination is not seen as often. That does not mean though that the females in the UK and Ireland that are killing it out in ocean right now still don’t need to be highlighted and given their well deserved recognition. I also think it is important to look at surfers that are home grown so that they can inspire you to take advantage of what most of us have right on our doorstep or is just a small road trip away.  In this blog I will be mentioning some surfers you may or may not have heard of because I think it is good to get an overall view of the surf scene in the UK from beginners to experts. I was even lucky enough to get in touch with most of these girls and get to know a bit more about them.   

ALLANNAH BROWN @Allannah is a 28 year old surfer from Newquay, Cornwall. She is sponsored by Escape Surfboards, Black Spell clothing and Overboard Bags. Her favorite board to use is a 5′4 Funk by Escape Surfboards as it is a high performance board but it has a good amount of hidden volume in the right spots. Allannah finds it is a good all round board that goes well in small and big surf conditions. At the moment Allannah is staying in her hometown in Cornwall surfing all the surrounding local breaks but normally she bounces from country to country as she loves travelling about. Her favorite place to surf though is in Indonesia.  

She used to compete in the UK on the pro tour when she was younger, as she felt driven to improve her surfing even more by competing, but would find herself frustrated when the girls heats were held in the worst conditions and the pay wasn’t equal back when she was surfing competitively. As a result, her motivation decreased and so she stopped competing. She also told me that she found it hard growing up as she lacked a lot of self confidence due to being obese and so never viewed herself as a sporty kind of person. This right here is a big reason as to why more females need to be highlighted and share their stories because if Allannah as a child had heard about other female surfers with similar stories she may have found the confidence to keep going and felt less alone with her views on the competitive world. 

After a while Allannah had what she called a ‘reality check’ and says “I asked myself why I surf, and my answer was to have fun, so now I surf for pure enjoyment, to have fun and to act like a big kid.” She also explained to me that she has a lot of respect for those that do compete and feels that the level of surfing from the younger generations at the moment is insane. “The girls are throwing down manoeuvres I never thought possible at that age.” 

EMMA RALPH @eeralphy is a 25 year old Surfer and Wakeboarder from Portsmouth. She has never competed in surfing but surfs regularly. The Tiki is her favorite board because it has a pointed nose which means there is much less surface area. Although catching waves with a board like this is a lot harder it is good because it allows the board to be more curved and so you can have more grip on steeper waves and duck diving is a lot easier. At the moment Emma surfs at Bracklesham and sometimes drives down to Croyde where the more experienced surfers can be found.

Emma is a very positive role model in women’s sport as she participates in many different ones, whether it is competitively or just for fun like with her surfing. She lives a very inspiring and healthy lifestyle which can be seen on her Instagram page. Her favorite place to surf in the world is Morocco, Imsouane Beach. It’s a surf town that boasts some of the longest waves people have ever surfed and has one of the most beautiful backdrops. Emma’s aim for the future with her surfing is to help “keep surfing great, inclusive and share the stoke.”  

LUCY CAMPBELL @lucycsurf is a 25 year old professional surfer. She is originally from Woolacombe in Devon but has been travelling the world for a good few years now. She is 6 times National Women’s Champion and currently representing on the World Qualifying series. Lucy is sponsored by many big name brands like Korev, Olympus, SunGod and is very well known within the surfing community. On her Instagram you can see she uses a variety of boards but recently she has been using a Beachbeat Surfboard. These have a very cool but simple design to them and they move through the water very nicely. Her favorite board of them all though is her 5′7 Adams Surfboards P17. Also, her favorite place to surf is Lakeys Peak in Indonesia.   

Lucy started surfing at the age of ten. She was taught by her dad and older brother and has been in love with the sport ever since. At times she found it tricky as she was competing at one point while doing her A Levels at the same time so she had to find a good balance. It seemed to be a good way to take a break from all her revision at times and taught her a lot of skills. In her spare time she loves cooking and takes part in other forms of exercise to keep herself fit for her job. Lucy loves yoga as she feels it complements her surfing greatly and she also used to be a great middle distance runner so she enjoys incorporating running into her fitness training to benefit her in the ocean.

GRACE DOYLE @graciesurfer is a 30 year old surfer from Ireland. She is sponsored by Billabong, Quiver Surfboards, Etnies Shoes and BeyondSurf. Her favorite board to use is the quiver 5′7 epoxy Poppa 2 model. It’s a great all round board as it surfs well in most waves and suits her style. Grace most commonly surfs her hometown break which is Tramore Beach or the breaks around Sligo in the Northweat coast. Her favorite place to surf though is Easkey Right on a decent day. 

Grace mostly free surfs but she has competed in some contests around Ireland. She competed at Eurosurf 2015 where she finished 9th in the women’s division. Also, at the World Surf Games in Japan in 2018 and 2019. Grace commented on her time in Japan by saying “those contests were amazing experiences, especially last years one, as we got to meet and surf alongside some of the best pro surfers in the world.” For the future Grace wants to carry on surfing and enjoy pushing herself to perform better. She is also looking forward to the possibility of competing again soon!

TASSY SWALLOW @tassyswallow94 is a 26 year old professional surfer from St Ives in Cornwall. She was the leading Under 18 British female surfer previously and is also a surf coach for Ratz surf club for young girls as she feels it is important to give back to the surf community and inspire the younger female generation. One of her favorite boards to use is a 5′7 “Shank” as it works well in pretty much any condition and is very loose on the bottom and off the top. It’s great for anyone looking for an all round shortboard. 

Tassy started surfing at the age of seven. Everyone around her supported her ambition to surf professionally as she was growing up and she managed later down the line to represent Great Britain and has competed in five World Junior Surfing Games at various locations all over the world. She tells the younger female surfers that now look up to her to “do whatever the hell makes you happy and don’t let anyone put you down!”   

[ducktracy]

173. a sunbonnet blue (1937)

release date: august 21st, 1937

series: merrie melodies

director: tex avery

starring: berneice hansell (girl mouse), mel blanc (sheriff, george washington, various), billy bletcher (villain)

the second entry in his mice trilogy (that is, ain’t we got fun, this, and the mice will play), tex avery revisits the roots of earlier merrie melodies to give us this cutesy tale about mice running rampant in a hat shop at night.

akin to the countless of other “come to life at night” cartoons of both the past and future, we open to the facade of a hat shop -- snobby hatte shoppe, that is. the streamlined, art deco exterior feels straight out of a frank tashlin cartoon. truck inside with a multi-plane pan across the dark, empty, vast shop. very moody and eye-catching.

a mouse hole in the wall is now the focus of the camera, where a trepidatious mouse pokes his head out warily. he tiptoes furtively along--the foreshortening and perspective on the backgrounds is very nice, again quite tashlin-esque--the shop, pausing right out in the open. silence except for the music score... until, in an unmistakably avery move, the mouse bellows “HEY! ANYBODY HERE!?” without waiting for an answer, he darts back into his hole.

the coast is clear. delighted, the mouse hops into his conveniently placed elevator, leading right towards a light switch. this cartoon does take extra steps to make lighting a priority, but some cases are more successful than others: as the elevator doors open, revealing a pool of light, the mouse momentarily becomes transparent as he passes the open door, thanks to difficulty with the double-exposure. nevertheless, mr. mouse turns on the lights, prompting the black button above the on/off switch to ram right into his face, sending him falling to the ground and landing safely on top of a top hat.

mr. mouse asserts that he and his mice friends have no company: they’re free to party. after all of the mice have swarmed the place from their hole, the mouse proves himself to be a casanova as he chews the shape of a heart into the wood to impress his sweetie, voiced by the giggly berneice hansell. his efforts pay off as his girl croons “oh george, you’re so cute!” i’ll never get tired of hearing hansell’s squeaky voice for as long as i live. the love-birds run to join their friends, but have unexpected company: a nefarious, billy bletcher voiced mouse. yes, folks! it’s a kidnapping picture! the kind that dominated the first 5 years of warner bros cartoons all too prominently!

 in preparation for the song number, both mice coyly pose with the hats mentioned in the song, with villain mouse crawling under a nefarious looking cap of his own to keep a keen eye out on the missus. the pans from the lovebirds to the villain is well executed. it’s not as blindingly fast as frank tashlin’s transitions, but it doesn’t need to be, either. there’s definitely a level of control present, which works to the cartoon’s advantage and disadvantage. primarily the latter. 

a mouse turns off the light-switch, another turning on a headlamp to use as a spotlight, which segues us into our song number. the song number is cute, but that’s about all it is. it’s surprisingly prominent, calling back to the earlier days of the merrie melodies where the songs were full-on songs, not sharp, witty, tongue-in-cheek quips as was becoming the norm for 1937. another pan demonstrates that the sunbonnet blue and the yellow straw hat getting wedded. the song sequence is unremarkable, but there is a bit of that avery bite as we get a rather dismal view of married life: sunbonnet mama is doing all of the housework while straw hat dad reads the paper, paying no mind to their plethora of children running around.

we’re treated with more lighting effects as the mouse operating the headlamp now uses colored visors as a substitute for lighting gels. some of the colors certainly translate better than others (that last red color in the sequence muddies up the drawings an awful bit.) nevertheless, the happy couple are greeted with cheers and applause after their cutesy little number is complete. 

thankfully, irv spence swoops in to save the day from monotony, adding some much-needed zest and fervor with his animation of “the three ratz brothers”. the clumsy brothers perform a vaudeville routine after breaking out of a dunce cap, singing “i haven’t got a hat”, the merrie melody that marks the debut of porky, beans and co. just 2 years prior. the entire ratz bros. sequence is very well done and difficult to capture in photos and words: one of those scenes that you need to see for yourself. irv’s poses are strong, defined yet loose and rubbery, and his facial expressions are satisfyingly goofy. 

the rats burst into a medley of songs, the mood drastically changing as the engineer mouse from before switches out gels. green lighting sparks a mournful dirge of “i haven’t got a hat” (with one of the brothers even crying hysterically), yellow lighting prompts one of the brothers to recite ted lewis’ catchphrase of “is everybody happy?” lighting turns blue to reflect the unanimous outcry of “NO!” again, this is a great sequence--THIS is what tex avery is about. it’s strikingly noticeable that his heart wasn’t quite in this short, but for just a minute, he’s allowed to get a word in. song numbers change, as do moods, as do colors, the rapid pace transitions once again tashlin-esque in their execution. the three brothers end the number in a lively rendition of “the lady in red”, staring at the audience with crossed eyes and big grins. gone too soon!

with the festivities over and done with, the peace now serves as the perfect transition for some prime kidnapping. the villain mouse sneaks up to the girl using his hat as a cover, and, predictably, snatches her away. george does a bit of an avery take as his ears elongate in shock--he rushes to bang a spoon against a nearby military hat. they’d have plenty of military gags to work with in the coming years, as we’ll most definitely see once WWII breaks out. for now, george summons his army of mice to go after the villain and save the day.

memories of harman and ising past revisit us once again as we get a taste of a tried and true--well, mainly tried--gag: mouse blows trumpet, prompting his pants to fall down. more hat gags, such as a line of mice marching beneath band leader’s hats with merely their legs exposed, until irv spence breaks up the monotony by animating a rat sheriff resting beneath a sheriff's hat. george hurriedly alerts him to his dilemma, prompting the sheriff to exclaim “WHY DOESN’T SOMEBODY TELL ME THESE THINGS!?”, a catchphrase whose origin is a bit muddy--some attribute it to radio show personality fred allen, others to a listerine commercial, it’s even the name of a song. it bubbled up in a number of 1937 warner bros cartoons (porky’s badtime story being one example.) nevertheless, spence’s animation is lively like always, his zest not taken for granted.

after the sheriff blows on his whistle, summoning a police and fire brigade (all spawning from police hats and fireman hats respectively), a mouse hiding beneath a cowboy hat bellows “BUCK BENNY RIDES AGAIN!”, prompting a slack-jawed, hayseed mouse to respond “hello, buck!” both are a reference to jack benny’s radio show, particularly jack benny’s cowboy persona, (as you can guess) buck benny. elsewhere, we get some more gags of the mice and their “factions”, including football playing mice and their respective cheerleaders. finally, we get a distance shot of all of the hats running together. it’s a nice bit of animation, and the lively underscore of “i haven’t got a hat” does contribute an air of jolliness to the sequence.

elsewhere, george darts through rows of hats, the sounds coming out of his mouth being the unmistakable laugh of daffy duck’s. in the midst of his franting HOOHOO!ing, george stumbles upon another george: washington. once again, irv spence animates the exchange between both mice, the Regular George asking “which way did they go?”, prompting washington to arbitrarily tack on “i cannot tell a lie: they went that way.” the scene has potential to be funny--i would have loved to have seen the washington mouse act all uppity and snooty--but falls rather flat instead.

we’re treated with a blind mouse gag (because that’s a knee-slapper, huh?) who points george in the direction of the chase. kidnapper and victim dash over a staircase of meticulously placed hats, pursued by george. george jumps onto a top hat, flattening it, and then swings the hat around like a frisbee. the frisbee effectively slides beneath the villain, sending him sliding. again, another spence scene, with some rather intriguing animation, especially that of george winding up the hat to throw.

the villain loses the girl in the process, and now flies empty handed into a knight’s helmet after the top hat springs up and launches him across the room. george closes the helmet, placing the villain in “jail”, prompting him to grumble the ever popular fibber mcgee and molly catchphrase “t’ain’t funny, mcgee!” mel blanc voices the line instead of billy bletcher for reasons unbeknownst to me. meanwhile, the mouse sweethearts reunite. george excitedly whispers into his sweetie’s ear--she nods, prompting george to do a dance of excitement while the audience waits with bated breath.

their grand secret? a wedding. the happy couple march down the aisle lined with hats, complete to a rather jazzy rendition of “here comes the bride” (which makes me think of a similar scene in a gandy goose and sourpuss terrytoon, animated by the great carlo vinci.) the officiator reflects a burst of avery humor as he gives a hilariously abbreviated ceremony: “do you.... dododododdododododo... do you?” “i do!”

with weddings come wedding gifts, and our mice are no exception. the bride does the honors of opening the box, and husband soon follows. wife peers inside and grows rather bashful, a flurry of giggles. she encourages her husband to peer in--he does so, giving another daffy-esque “WOOHOO!” of shock as he stares at the camera in befuddlement. we iris out on the big reveal, which also has the honors of being tex avery’s first use of live action in a cartoon:

this is a rather frustrating entry. i don’t like to hold tex avery up as if he’s some monolith--his cartoons aren’t perfect, as we see here. he has weaknesses and faults like everybody else. but the fact that we’ve seen what he’s capable of, it’s hard not to compare it to works like these: the letdown is inevitable. it’s clear his heart was not at all in this one. it instead feels like a merrie melody from the 1934-1935 season--the art style is the only thing boosting it from comparisons to harman and ising. it’s just not a strong entry at all. there’s hardly any bite to it, it plays the game much too safe. irv spence’s scenes are the shining stars of the cartoon, especially that interlude with the ratz brothers. that is true avery, that is what he is capable of, but the rest of the cartoon just doesn’t follow through. painfully formulaic, unremarkable, forgettable. you’re better than this, tex! i will give it points for artistic experimentation: the lighting effects, while not executed perfectly, were certainly ambitious, and some of the backgrounds are very tasteful. but, as a whole, this is a very forgettable cartoon that you can easily skip. but, for you curious types such as myself, link!

[candyappleorange]

lining pebbles on a driveway

A brother remembers when she hid behind him to get away from the boys.

Behind his flannel jacket with the chocolate milk stain.

Brothers remember the daily commute to the ninth grade

With a sister at the steering wheel eating a bell pepper like an apple.

Straightened ombré hair.

Window wide open in the depths of winter.

He opens her door and snow is on the hardwood.

Window wide open in the breeze of summer.

Her and him basking on the cement roof,

Looking at the little German boys play soccer in the field.

Her smile always next to his in the Christmas greeting cards.

Him performing as tree number 3 and her as frog number 2

Her ripping duct tape off his head and him screaming bloody murder.

Sisters need the love of a brother

A sister crying on the phone and a brother telling her that if he can’t be good for himself how can he be good for you?

A brother scraping his back after his homemade go cart fell apart, and a sister who wiped away the blood and carefully stuck a rug ratz bandaid on the scratch

Seeing your sister in the hallways was always kind of weird because will I annoy her if I say hi? Like she’s with her friends and Im with my friends and she always tells me my friends are weird. And I know they’re weird because theater people are always weird, but maybe if I don’t say hi to her people will think I don’t like my sister. But I do like my sister, she’s my best friend. But also not. It’s weird I think. But a good kind of weird. Like she’s my friend at home and maybe not at school but Id rather be friends with her at home than at school so I think Im good. But on second thought she always watched out for me at school. Like I remember in the ninth grade, I didn’t get the role I wanted for the school play and one of the guys on the cross country team laughed at me, which I didn’t mind cause I think he was joking. But my sister slapped him. And I thought it was kinda cool that my sister slapped a guy. But looking back on it, that was pretty neat. Like yeah maybe we didn’t say hi in the halls all the time, but she slapped a guy for me and that’s pretty cool. I would rather have a friend who slaps mean people than have a friend who says hi to me in the halls.