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#wild
yolas0 · 2 days
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🦢🦢💧
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What’s funny to me is that I was pulling my 20 for 20 sale images to actually post to Instagram and I get noticeably better at pet portraits as I’ve continued, just like. Dang. It’s almost like practice continues to have tangible benefits….
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downfalldestiny · 3 days
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Cañón del Sumidero, Chiapas Mexico 🇲🇽💚 !.
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cerberus-albian · 1 day
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rhiannatruex · 20 hours
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tiny dude
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mellifera38 · 2 hours
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I understand why Watcher wants to try and pull a Dropout TV, I do, advertisers suck etc, but if you want $6 a month from me to watch a glorified youtube channel, I'm gonna need Ryan and Shane to start a weekly DnD game like that's the only thing that could convince me to get yet another fucking subscription service in my rotation lol.
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heather-rajendran · 2 days
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European robin (Erithacus rubecula) photos I took 14/04/2024, Stanley, Wakefield, West Yorkshire, UK
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janetbrown711 · 2 days
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Melatonin
Louie can't sleep after an adventure gone wrong, his mother's words echoing in his head like the worst worst record, and so he seeks solace with his dear old Uncle Donald.
Ao3 Link
Louie was tired, which wasn’t surprising for 2:17 in the morning. It had also been a long, long day of adventuring and he had been grateful when he finally was able to throw himself on his bunk bed.
Unfortunately though, Louie couldn’t sleep.
His back and legs ached something fierce from all of the above-average amounts of running and walking and climbing he had to do, and there was this weight on his chest that caused his heart to pound, keeping his eyes and mind on alert.
Insomnia was nothing new for the youngest duck brother, of course, but that didn’t make it any less annoying (especially with Dewey’s tendency to snore). He’d normally just go on his phone and scroll through social media until his eyes decided to close, but it didn’t feel right tonight. No, his feed was too full of Webby and Dewey’s photos of their adventure. Photos of Scrooge, Huey, and Della were on every post, with Louie having to swipe through to find any with him in them.
That wasn’t their fault though, Louie really hadn’t been in the mood today for hiking mountains and fighting bears and bear-like monsters to find some mystic honey stirrer. The photos of him were blurry and embarrassing, unlike the usual where he’d at least pose with the treasure or he and Webby had some kind of fun side quest.
A chill ran through Louie that made him sit up and sigh, rubbing the bandages around one of his hands as he tried to think of what to do.
He could go to the kitchen and if Duckworth wasn’t too busy ghost-sleeping, he could make him some tea..? No, no, Louie hated tea more than Scrooge hated to waste it. Something else then… like watching YouTube? No, his feed was overrun with videos about Doofus Drake and Scrooge McDuck sightings and hustler videos that Louie really didn’t have an interest in (at least… not right now). He could try counting sheep, but– but there was something else on his mind playing on repeat instead.
“C’mon Louie, it’s just one more mile, don’t get lazy on me now.” His mother smiled at him, hands on her hips and a bouncy energy that just made him even more tired by the second.
“Yeah, Louie! C’mon, it’ll be totally cool to see the top of the mountain,” Huey encouraged too.
“If I don’t die before then,” Louie panted, leaning back against a tree.
Della tsked and rolled her eyes. “You sound just like your uncle, you know that?”
Louie perked up at that, but before he could say anything, Dewey punched him in the arm as he and Webby sped by.
“See ya later, slowpokes!” he called out mockingly as Webby made a face.
“Hey! We’re supposed to be on the lookout for bears, you two!” Della laughed and hurried to go join them.
“Hey–! Wait for us!” Huey shouted and started scurrying off too, and Louie had no choice but to follow.
…Louie didn’t know why his mind was focusing on it– it wasn’t a big deal, really. They all made it eventually, even if Louie missed the “big reveal” and family photo op. They had hundreds of those, Louie being gone from one or two or however many at this point wasn’t a big deal. He was the lazy one, after all. Consequences, simple as that.
“If you want to be part of this family, you got to–”
Louie shot up and out of bed, startled by his own memory as the pounding in his chest only increased.
“It’s just a stupid memory, Louie. Just shut up and go back to sleep,” he muttered to himself before checking if he’d awoken his brothers. Thankfully, the answer was no, so Louie was left to… well, as much as he wanted to, he was in no condition to go back to bed. He was still stuck in “fight or flight” mode, so he needed to walk around– maybe to find some melatonin.
As good as that sounded though, he knew the numerous bathrooms barely even had toilet paper, much less medications due to how stingy Scrooge was. If there was melatonin to be found, it probably expired in 1986 and probably had a nightmare shadow creature trapped inside for extra measure.
Then again, Uncle Donald always kept his melatonin and other vitamins stocked, so maybe Louie could just go to the houseboat to check? Hopefully he could do so without waking his uncle, but if he caught him, it wasn’t like he’d get in trouble.
Louie bit his cheek, finding his phone and unplugging it to check the time, annoyed but not surprised it had only been two minutes. With a sigh, Louie put his phone in his pajama pocket, and quietly crept out of his room into the halls of the manor.
Nights like these always made the mansion feel haunted– more than by Duckworth, anyways. His uncle was crazy old and so was his choice in curtains and decoration. While Duckworth and Beakley kept dust away, the moonlight had this uncanny way of pointing out every crack and crevice that was previously unknown. Plus, the quiet made the creaking wood and pipes a lot more noticeable, and with Louie, being in the state that he was, picked up the pace to avoid it as much as possible.
Thankfully, the courtyard wasn’t too hard to get to and soon, Louie was back sneaking his way on the houseboat like it was nothing.
While it took a second to get used to, the familiar sway and creaking of the houseboat was comforting for the young duck, and he couldn’t help but smile as he made his way to the bathroom’s medicine cabinet for raiding.
In there, he found a half empty bottle of aspirin, a thing of tums, an empty paper cup, some mouthwash, but no sign of any melatonin.
“Well… frick,” Louie muttered to himself, closing the mirror and nearly jumping out of his skin when he heard footsteps just outside.
“Hello?” called out the tired and scratchy voice of Louie’s uncle.
Busted.
“Sorry, Uncle Dee, I was just looking for some melatonin to nab.” Louie’s face was red as he flicked the light off and stepped out to the small hallway.
His uncle smiled pitifully at him. “Can’t sleep?”
Louie shook his head.
“I keep that in my room now since you three moved out.” Donald chuckled. “I can grab it for you, and I can make some tea too, if you’d like.”
Louie bit his cheek. It was getting late, but as much as Louie wanted to just take the melatonin and hope his feelings would just drown out, he couldn’t deny having a cup of sleepytime tea with his uncle would help.
“Yeah, sure, why not?” Louie gave a crooked little smile, which made his uncle chuckle again and ruffle his hair before going to the kitchen. Louie followed, sliding into the circular booth and watching as his uncle pulled out the dented old kettle and filled it with water.
“Have you gotten any sleep at all?” his uncle asked, watching it fill.
Louie shook his head. “No, not really… I’m more surprised you’re awake though, I really thought it would be an easy in-and-out.”
“You’d be surprised how raising triplets and being ex-navy can affect how light you sleep.” His uncle winked and turned the water off.
Louie snorted. “I think Mom could sleep through a bombing.”
“Yeah, that’s Della all right.” Donald’s voice wavered a bit, though he quickly turned to muttering in frustration as it took a second before his stove would light. It eventually did, and once that was all settled he sighed and leaned against the counter. “So what’s keeping you up this time, Lou?”
“Oh, you know… adventure stuff, I guess,” Louie danced around the details, picking at the bandage on his hand.
His uncle’s eyes landed on it, and based on his reaction, it seemed he hadn’t noticed his injury at dinner. “Are you okay? What happened? Did Huey or Webby do the bandaging? Or was it Dewey? Not that he does a bad job, he just always forgets the Neosporin–”
“It’s fine, it’s fine, Uncle Dee– really,” Louie forced a smile. “It’s just a minor scrape, I promise.”
“You know, I’ve always told Scrooge you boys need better gloves and gear just so situations like this don’t happen.” Donald shook his head and left the kitchen, muttering under his breath the whole time.
Welp. Better than a scolding to stay safer, Louie thought to himself as he closed his eyes for a second.
When he opened them again, his uncle was back with a first aid kit and a bottle of melatonin.
“Here, let me look at it,” Donald asked, taking a seat next to Louie.
“It’s fine, Uncle Donald,” Louie tried to assure him, but his uncle didn’t relent, taking his hand and quickly unwrapping the bandage.
His uncle frowned, inspecting it. “This doesn’t look like a regular scrape. What happened?”
“It was just a sharp rock, I swear.” Louie looked away to try and mask the lie.
Donald didn’t seem to believe it, but focused his efforts more on adding some neosporin to his cut before finding a suitable gauze pad, bringing Louie momentarily relief.
“Who wrapped this the first time? And how long was it between hurting yourself and getting bandaged?” Donald interrogated.
“Dewey when we got back to the plane, I guess– it’s really not a big deal, Uncle Donald, I’m fine,” Louie tried to push, but he could see Donald’s eye twitch.
“No one had a first aid kit? Not even Huey?” Donald asked, eyebrows furrowed.
“He ran out using it on Webby and Dewey and Launchpad.” Louie shrugged. “Seemed only fair to let them have it this time anyways, since I’m usually the one taking all the supplies.”
Donald frowned, now taking the roller bandage and wrapping his wrist twice before going diagonally to the outside of his pinky. “I don’t like you thinking like that; your safety and health matters just as much as anyone else’s– even if you’ve got worse luck and tire out quicker.”
“Sure,” Louie sighed, looking at the kettle and seeing the steam starting to escape, a squeal imminent.
“I’m serious, Louie. I don’t want you talking like that. You deserve as much love and care as anyone else.” His uncle looked at him seriously, but the ten-year-old avoided eye contact.
Donald frowned, finishing the bandaging just as the kettle began to squeal and put a brief pause to go deal with that.
“If you want a place in this family–”
Stop. Just stop, Louie hissed in his mind. He hated that stupid video and that stupid memory. It was so long ago, there really wasn’t a point for it to be on repeat like it was. Yeah, his mom joked that if he hadn’t been so clumsy on the last adventure then Huey wouldn’t have ran out of bandages, but like… that was different. Louie was fine. It was fine. It was cool.
“So are you going to actually tell me how you hurt yourself, or are you going to keep me guessing all night?” Donald sighed, pouring the hot water into two mugs.
“It was a sharp rock, I promise.” Louie bit his cheek.
“Right.” His uncle’s shoulders sagged, before he shook his head and set the kettle down. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. Adventures are hard sometimes, I get it– plus, I know I can be a little protective–”
Louie laughed.
Donald rolled his eyes. “Okay, maybe more than a little protective, but you know… someone’s gotta.”
Louie’s smile faded and his eyes went back to his hands.
His uncle hummed in amusement as he got the tea bags and began brewing before returning with mugs in hand to the booth. “I’m sorry today was rough. I wish I could’ve been there.”
Louie waved his hand. “You would’ve gotten hurt a lot more than me.”
“Yeah, but at least Della knows to carry three extra kits whenever I’m around,” Donald laughed, and a lump formed in Louie’s throat.
“Right, yeah.” Louie tried to ignore it, tapping his fingers on the glass as he urged the tea to brew faster.
When it was done, he could feel his uncle's eyes on him as he took a sip of tea, searching and scanning like they had many times before. It was how he eventually learned to detect Louie's schemes, and it never failed to make Louie feel small.
To his surprise though, instead of saying anything, Donald wrapped an arm around Louie and pulled him to his side, kissing his head and hugging him tight. It made the lump tighten and tears threaten to form, the pressure building so tight Louie might just burst.
“I love you, Louie. You know that?” his uncle whispered.
Louie could only nod.
“I love you very, very much, Lou. I care about your health and safety, and I want you to be happy more than anything else in the whole wide world, do you understand?” Donald continued.
Louie nodded again, his lower lip beginning to tremble.
His uncle hugged him tighter. “Louie, I want you to tell me what’s hurting you. You don’t have to give details– but know that nothing is too much for me, okay? I want to help you… please…”
The ‘please’ shattered Louie’s resolve. He opened his mouth to speak maybe three times, before he eventually croaked it out:
“Why… doesn’t mom… like me..?”
Donald let out a quiet gasp, filling Louie with instant regret that broke him down into a sobbing mess in an instant.
“Oh, Louie.” His uncle pulled Louie onto his lap now, hugging him tight as he rocked back and forth while the ten-year-old just buried his face in his chest.
“S-sh-she– It-it’s like– She likes H-Huey, a-and Dewey, a-and even Webby– b-but– b-but–”
“I’m so sorry, honey.” Donald hugged him a little tighter, and Louie could tell he was crying too.
“I-I keep screwing u-up– a-and it’s like– i-it’s like she ca-can’t even tell a-and she just– she hates me, Unca’ Donald, she hates me,” Louie wept.
“Della doesn’t hate you, Louie, she just doesn’t understand, I promise,” Donald tried to assure, but Louie just shook his head.
“Sh-she keeps– she keeps calling me lazy a-and she makes fun of me wh-when I fail a-and even get hurt– it hurts so much, Unca’ Donald, it hurts so much,” Louie confessed, a wave of sorrow crashing down with the realization.
“I’m so sorry, Lou…” his uncle’s voice cracked. “I wish she didn’t. I really, really wish she didn’t– but old habits die hard, I’m so sorry.”
It took Louie a moment to process what his uncle said, and when he did, he sat up a bit. “Y-you mean she does that to you too?”
Donald nodded with a sad smile. “Everyone does, but Del and Scrooge especially. I used to joke that’s the only reason they kept me around.”
Louie’s heart managed to break a second time and he practically leapt to hug his uncle. “M’so sorry, I-I never meant to– I just– I’m so sorry, Uncle Donald.”
“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Lou. I’ve learned to accept it.” Donald rubbed his back.
“But you shouldn’t have to! I-it sucks– I hate being just a joke to them, a-and you’re so much more than that too!” Louie broke the embrace again.
“Louie, you aren’t a joke to them, I promise. You have that wonderful mind of yours that’s always so good at planning and scheming and escaping and they value that tremendously.” Donald put his hands on Louie’s shoulders.
Louie looked at the ground. “Even mom..?”
Donald gave a long sigh. “Your mom is… new to this. She doesn’t understand how you work yet and assumes you won’t take it personally, like how I would act– but that doesn’t make it right. She loves you, but she just doesn’t know how to, and I’m sorry that hurts you…”
Louie looked away, his mom’s words echoing again in his mind.
“If you want to be a part of this family, you gotta stop.”
“She… she said if I wanted to be a part of this family, I had to stop scheming– had to stop the one thing I’m good at,” Louie whispered.
He could see his uncle’s shoulders tense. “When did she say that..?”
“When you were gone after the ‘timephoon incident’.” Louie sniffled, wiping away hot tears as he stared at his mug.
Donald gave another long, heavy sigh. “I’m so sorry, Louie. I wish she understood you, I really, really do…”
“Sh-she also– I hurt my hand because she didn’t see me slipping. She didn’t help me– sh-she assumed I’d be okay, but I’m not okay– it’s not okay, Uncle Donald, it’s not.” Louie shook his head and curled up to Donald’s side, and his uncle wrapped an arm around him.
“I’m so sorry, Lou. Della just gets so wrapped up in her own head, she has a hard time recognizing people aren’t always at her level.” Donald rested his head atop Louie’s and squeezed him.
“I-I felt so alone today– I hate feeling alone,” Louie confessed more.
“I know, Louie, I know. And if it helps, you’ll always have me no matter what, okay? There’s nothing you could do to make me hate or leave you. You’ll always be my little Louie, and even if we get separated, I’ll always find my way back– even if it’s the moon,” Donald pointed out with a soft smile.
“Thanks, Uncle Donald.” Louie nuzzled closer. “I wish mom understood you too.”
His uncle laughed weakly. “Maybe one day… but in the meantime, I’m lucky to have you.”
Louie couldn’t help but laugh a little too. “I’m lucky to have you too, Uncle Donald.”
The pair of them sat in silence for a while, with Louie curled extra tight to his side and Donald holding him nice and close. It was calming, especially with the slow eb and flow of the pool water. All that crying had exhausted Louie, and he figured his uncle likely felt the same. However, Louie couldn’t even imagine going back to his bunk now, not when he felt his uncle needed him as much as he needed Donald.
“I’ll try and talk to her. It’ll be slow and I don’t know how she’ll take it, but I’ll talk to her,” Donald suddenly spoke up. “Uncle Scrooge too, for that matter.”
Louie wiped his eyes and shook his head. “You don’t gotta do that, it probably won’t change anything.”
“I have to try, Lou.” Donald looked down at him. “You’re worth at least trying.”
Louie didn’t have a response for that, so he just nuzzled back close and there was quiet again.
Louie liked the quiet. It was much better than the eerie silence of the manor, and how it would always be broken abruptly by some creaking wood or wind whirling down the chimney. On the houseboat, the sounds were constant, like a lullaby. The splashing of the water, the squeaking old metal, the soft hum of the old AC unit– it always knew how to put Louie to sleep.
“Uncle Donald?” he suddenly spoke up.
“Yes?”
“Can I… stay here with you tonight?” Louie glanced back up at him.
Donald’s face melted into a soft smile. “Of course, Lou. You’re welcome here any time.”
“Good.” Louie smiled too, before yawning.
His uncle chuckled before yawning himself. “Looks like we should get going to bed, huh?”
“I could stay up longer,” Louie lied, making his uncle roll his eyes.
“Drink some tea before you take that melatonin, I don’t want it going to waste,” Donald lightly teased before getting up and drinking more of his own.
Louie nodded, beginning to chug before he remembered he really wasn’t that big of a fan of tea, and so set it down again. “Is… that enough?” Louie asked.
Donald laughed. “Yes, yes, it’s fine, I’m just joking, no need to force yourself.”
Louie smiled before struggling to open the bottle of melatonin. Noticing this, his uncle walked over and helped him retrieve the yellow pill, which Louie took with a little bit of tea. After that was done, Donald cleaned up their mugs and set them out to dry. Once that was settled, Louie took Donald’s hand and the two of them went to cuddle the rest of the night away.
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viridian-pickle · 2 days
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boanerges20 · 2 days
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Lost & Found
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slaterinc · 5 months
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wild horses crossing a river in iran, eydi heydari
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yolas0 · 2 days
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🐦🦤💙
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fluffygif · 3 months
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Magical little creatures 🤍🖤
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aangarchy · 3 months
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Ok now we're just taking the piss right? Right?
Once again this sort of thinking is removing a fundamental character arc that makes this story what it is. A big part of Aang's journey, especially in season 1, but tbh it does return in later seasons too, is accepting that he is the Avatar, and that he's the only one who can end this war. During the whole first season he is in complete denial about who he is and what he's supposed to do, which is why in most of this season there's no sense of urgency, and then once Aang gets faced with a very real, very close deadline he panics. This makes it even more brutal when in season 3, after accepting this responsibility, he gets faced with the reality of failure. He runs away again, this time not because he doesn't want responsibility, but because he knows how heavy his responsibility is and he doesn't want to burden anyone else with it. Removing the first aspect, aka running away and denying responsibility, it in turn also removes the heavy emotion from his later arc.
It keeps surprising me that people who claim to be such fans of the original seem to completely miss the point of most of this story? Like how could you look at Sokka learning about women's rights, Aang learning to accept responsibility, and Katara's motherly warmth which happened because how young she was when she had to step into a motherly role, and think "well we should remove that." You're taking out all of character development and going purely off of plot (which isn't gonna be nearly as good without the character development!)
Atla is probably one of the most analyzed and picked apart story, has one of the most long running loyal fanbases, people are STILL making thinkpieces about this show, and you manage to still misunderstand so much???
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killabeeblog · 3 months
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rhiannatruex · 2 days
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catching the light
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