I was thinking about how long it takes to build a relationship with an animal.
like when I first got Tallgeese, she'd run in fear if I tried to approach her. and now three years later it's hard to walk through the backyard, because she's following me about like a puppy and placing herself directly beneath my descending feet.
meanwhile Grim was standoffish for the first few years of me having her, and would act all offended if I tried to scritch her ears. and now, in year eleven, she keeps me up at night by forcing herself under my arm and purring like a jet engine.
it makes me emotional. like here are my little guys, we've spent years figuring out how to love eachother, no big deal or anything.
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Young Old Things
I like the thought of a deaged Dan causing a misunderstanding between Danny, Vlad, and the batfam.
TW: sexual assault hinted at
....
Danny, Dan, and Ellie go to see Jazz in Gotham. They've been waiting to "visit" her for weeks since she moved out. Only waiting for her to get a big enough place for all of them. Danny already said he'd share a room with Ellie and Dan, especially now that they found out if she is her true age she'll start to stabilize more permanently with Danny's ecto. Plus, having Dan be the same size helps, or so she says (he might be desperate for a new family and Ellie is trying to help, Danny and Jazz never bring it up in front of him).
The Fenton parents don't know about Danny being Phantom, instead believing that some big ghostly event caused Danny to have a ghost daughter.
And that he tried to clone himself mixed with a ghost to use that body to stabilize her. They may be proud of their scientist son, they are not proud that he won't let them experiment on his ghostly "creations".
Of course they are entirely wrong:
Ellie is one of Vlads' attempts to clone him, the only one that survived.
And Dan is an amalgamation of Danny and Vlad from an alternate timeline. He doesn't know why he's keeping that from his parents. He owes nothing to that scumbag, but Jazz says many victims try to keep their abusers safe from facing consequences. Before Dan was deaged, and much before he met the Fenton parents, he'd pointed out that he'd be scared who his parents would have chosen to believe too.
Jazz gets a full ride scholarship with Gotham U, the Wayne's new massive donation to the psychology department, as well as her well written letter about being the head of her home, helped immensely.
She felt bad using a slightly blurred version of their story to get a good scholarship, but Danny pushed her to go for it.
Hence her, Danny and his 3 year old "twins" were at a gala for the university.
It was being held in the museum after closing hours. The invitation she got had specified that her brother was invited, each with a plus one.
They couldn't exactly get a babysitter for two super-powered toddlers in the city known for hating metas. Besides it wasn't like they had time to get dates anyway.
The night started out fine. There were scholarship students, student council members, some Gotham U staff, and a few rich folk mingling and eating tiny foods that both Ellie and Dan adored.
Ellie fell asleep in Danny's arms almost the second she'd finished eating, and Dan was overly protective of the both of them as always. Of course the dense crowd and constant noise wasn't helping calm him down.
A Wayne, he wasn't sure which one exactly, had brought Danny a plate of food and sat with him as he tried to distract Dan. At first Dan didn't care for him at all, but he mentioned reading about the constellation on Dan's shirt and he loosened up. He never let go of Danny's pant leg though.
The night turned sour when all three's ghost sense went off. There was no immediate threat, but even the Wayne kid noticed them tense and turned to the hallway.
Dan was the first to spot him. "Vad."
"Bad?" The man mimicked.
"He has trouble with his Ls."
"No! I can say Ellie." Dan huffed, poking the side of her sparkly green shoe.
"Vlad, the guy that walked in." Danny said, decidedly looking down into his daughter's sleeping face, squished into his shirt and drooling.
"Vladimir Masters?"
He nodded, before he could continue however Dan spoke up.
"He is bad. He's the reason I was born. And Ellie too." Dan put himself in front of Danny, his little legs going over Danny's feet like a guard dog.
He could see the Wayne's hands tighten into fists, he tapped the inside of his wrist a bit and watched as he squirmed in his seat.
"Hey, Tim." Another dark haired light eyed Wayne and a girl came up to them. "Who's this?"
"Danny, these are my sibilings. Dick and Cass. Guys, this is Danny."
"Hi, nice to meet you Danny. I'd shake your hand but it looks busy." He gestured towards Ellie. As his hand swept nearer, Dan tried to swipe it away. "Oh, and who's this."
"I'm Dan. You can't touch Mommy." His little face contorted into his best toddler attempt at scaring them off.
"I would never do that. No one here would." Dick said as he crouched down to be eye level with his son.
"He would." Dan pointed at Vlad, all three turned to look at the man. Before anyone else noticed, specifically Vlad himself, Danny pushed his arm down.
"Don't point, it's rude."
"He's a rude butt." Danny laughed softly and Dan continued. "It doesn't mater that I'm half of him, I'll never be evil like him." He yawned and laid his face on Danny's leg.
"I think that's enough signs that we should head home. Thank you for talking with me, Tim."
"No problem, it was m-"
Dan grabbed around Danny's legs and whined "I don't wanna gooOOOooo. I want more of the tiny hot dogs."
Danny looked up to see Vlad infront of the food table. The Wayne sibilings followed his gaze "I'm sorry buddy, but-"
Tim stood up, "I'll get you guys a whole mountain of the tiny hot dogs. Why don't you guys wait for me at the door." Ever so softly he heard Tim whisper, "Go with them." To his brother.
"Where are your things? I'll help you get ready." Dick looked around like he didn't know where the coat closet was. He'd probably been to events like this hundreds of times, but Danny appreciated the sentiment.
"Their stroller is at the entrance, I have to get my sister though."
The girl who hadn't said a word hummed and went off, "Cass can find her, I'll help you and we can meet at the entrance."
"Alright, thank you."
It wasn't until they had both kids in the stroller with their coats on and Dan had a bottle of milk (with a lot of ectoplasm in it) that Danny realized he'd never mentioned who his sister was.
Dick waved towrds the end of the hall and saw his sister and the two Waynes he'd met walking with Brucie Wayne himself.
Jazz looked down and pat Cass' hand. "Thank you for getting me."
"Danger." Her voice was soft, but she didn't seem shy like he had expected.
"All four of you seemed to get along well with my kids. Would you like to come by for dinner next week?" Brucie asked as he looked between the four of them.
"I'd love to!" Jazz said enthusiastically. "Would Tuesday ight work?"
Danny could see the gears start to speed up in her head and he huffed a little. "Jazz, I need to get them in bed."
"Right, of course. Thank you again, for everything."
"Tuesday night works perfectly," Brucie Wayne said with a massive smile on his face, "we'll send someone to pick you up. Have a good night."
With that they walked down the ramp and down a few blocks to their two bed room apartment.
"Jazz," She looked over to Danny, "I think they know more than they are letting on."
She lent over the stroller a bit to check if the kids were asleep, before adding, "I agree, I think there is something up with them, but I don't think they're bad."
"Dan was okay with them mostly, and Ellie was fast asleep even with then around."
"I guess we'll just have to find out, then. Besides, it would be good for you to make friends your age and not at the car shop."
"Yeah, alright."
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On Voting in America
So one of the most profound comments on routine chores that I've ever encountered was, hilariously, the Pickle Rick episode of "Rick & Morty," where (after a lot of shenanigans have already ensued) this therapist absolutely lays Rick out:
"I have no doubt that you would be bored senseless by therapy, the same way I'm bored when I brush my teeth and wipe my ass. Because the thing about repairing, maintaining, and cleaning is: it's not an adventure. There's no way to do it so wrong you might die. It's just work. And the bottom line is some people are okay going to work and some people, well, some people would rather die. Each of us gets to choose."
I think about this at least once a week — usually while I'm doing my laundry or sweeping or some other task that needs doing and won't get me anything more than clean clothing or a dog-hair-free floor. There's no Pulitzer for wiping down your microwave or scrubbing your toilet; no one's awarding you for getting all the dishes out of the sink. At best you have the satisfaction of crossing it off your list.
Voting is very much the same (and I'm talking about the US here, as an American). Sure, you sometimes get a sticker; but nobody's going to cheer for you. There's no adventure here, no potential for anything more than crossing something off of a list. It's a chore, something that needs doing in order to repair, maintain, and yes even clean. So I get why people don't like doing it.
And I've decided I don't give a shit.
Do it anyway. Your country takes astonishingly little from you — taxes, the once-in-a-blue-moon jury duty, and a theoretical draft that hasn't been used in over half a century and likely will never be again — but it asks you (asks! not requires! not demands!) to vote once a year. It's not always easy; especially in conservative states, the impediments to vote can be ridiculous. But it is once a year and unlike in our nation's all-too-recent past, you will not die if you do it.
In fact, the worst outcome from voting these days is that the person or issue that you vote for loses — but you won't know if they lose until after the election. Polls are less accurate now, for a whole host of reasons; you cannot know until after the election who or what will win. This makes your vote more valuable than possibly ever before.
Use that power. Not because it's exciting or even rewarding, but because your vote is what keeps our country's metaphorical teeth from falling out and our metaphorical ass from stinking.
Brush, wipe, vote.
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