Happy 413

Boats

Fanfiction for Day 3: Boats of @donro-week!

Shape of Change

As he pushed his cart down the street, Gyro Gearloose spotted a curiosity in the front yard of 1313 Webfoot Walk. 

Donald Duck sat on the grass folding a paper boat. 

In fact, he surmised, given the sprinkle of scattered paper boats strewn around him, he had been folding them for some time.

Gyro was of an investigative disposition, so he abandoned his cart of tinkerings and gadgets to uncover the mental mechanisms behind the paper-folding mania.

This sheet of paper had Donald bound in an unblinking transfixation. His tongue stuck out in concentration as he folded it. In this state, the usual nuisances of squirrels chattering above him or the hiss of nextdoor neighbour Jones' lawnmower seemed to roll off his bubble of hyperfocus. He could commit his mind to any little oddity, and that quality always endeared him to Gyro.

He made a cacophony of his entry, knocking the mailbox and exclaiming, "Morning, Donald!"

Donald perked up at Gyro's arrival, as he always did, and waved at him. "Hiya, Gyro!"

“What have we here?” He eyed Donald's fingers pressing a crease into the sheet of paper, folding two symmetrical halves.

With a smug grin that betrayed his bemusement, Donald said, "Why, these things? They are called paper boats."

For the sake of theatrics, Gyro sighed. He joined him in the grass, smiling despite himself. "Very funny. But what for? Helping the kids' with a school project, perhaps?"

Donald's face of cheer unmasked into something morose. "No, I just wanted to get out of the house. A lot has been going on, and it's overwhelming." He flopped backwards into the grass. The paper boat tumbled out of his grasp, joining the rest in becoming bright white lawn ornaments.

Gyro waved a fresh sheet pinched between his fingers and let it rustle. "Shall I take over on boat-making while you rest?"

A single thumbs up popped out from the grass. 

So he started folding, flipping, creasing the sheet of paper with the press of two fingers, hearing it schliff. He transported himself to a time of short desks, tall teachers, and recesses spent in the library, all to access the long-buried knowledge of how to fold a paper boat. No memory was perfect, of course, but eventually, he had a crooked paper boat cupped in his two hands. Some corners stuck out in places and others were dulled by fold retakes. Asymmetry defined each face.

He turned to show his creation of irregular polygons to Donald, who had already sat up with crossed arms and a smug look on his face. Presumably, he had made Gyro’s earnest attempt to create a paper boat into a tragic spectacle.

"Hey, you," Gyro grunted. Possessed by a mischievous urge to get back at the little duck, spurred on by whimsy, he balanced the misshapen boat atop his bill.

It immediately toppled downwards.

Donald snickered, and then there they were. Two adults playing in the grass making paper boats. Donald quacked in laughter, and it wasn’t that amusing, really, but he replayed the moment the boat fell off his beak and maybe it was a little bit funny, so Gyro started laughing too. And was there anything better than sharing a little chortle together on a sunny morning?

When the laughter bubbled down, Donald said, "It's alright."

"Hm?"

Donald picked up a blank sheet. "Folding paper shapes is hard. Surprisingly hard. It requires a lot of attention and precision, and at first it felt like I couldn't ever do it well."  His hands worked deftly as he continued, "The boat looks so different from a flat piece of paper, and I'm not very good at visualising how each fold affects the shape. But, you know? I took it little by little. Even though I don't see how, I have to trust that each fold matters." Presented in two hands, he held a freshly made paper boat with crisp edges and clean faces.

“I see we’re not really talking about paper boats, are we.”

Donald tilted his head with a smile and looked at him teasingly. “Nah, I was talking about paper boats.” He set the new one down on the grass. 

Gyro chuckled. “If you say so.” They were, after all, surrounded by paper boats.

"But… I do feel better. The mess indoors has got nothing on me." Donald flexed an arm for emphasis and winked.

Right then, a curiosity struck at his heart.

Gyro leaned forwards and nuzzled the tip of his beak into Donald’s cheek feathers. 

They were soft. Donald leaned into the preening and it filled him with warmth, the kind he felt when they shared a hug, he supposed. The moment passed as quickly as it arose, and mid-morning air filled the gap between them. 

Donald moved to stand up, but his legs trembled. For a second, he inhaled, waiting for something to be released, but he only expelled a breath. Then, he smiled brightly at Gyro and extended his hand out to him.

Naturally, he took it. 

“I’ll help you clean up the yard.”  That was all that needed to be said.

Gyro assessed the task ahead. There were many paper boats littered around the grass. Still, he couldn’t imagine the yard without them after everything that had transpired. It must’ve meant something to Donald, because he kept sneaking glances back at Gyro. He didn’t know the shape of this change, or what it meant. But for now, he simply picked up each boat, one at a time.

QOTD: What's your favourite thing about Donald Duck?

If I had to pick one thing, it's his perseverance. In pretty much every iteration of Donald Duck, he doesn't give up when it's his big moment. He'll come close to it, of course, but at the end of the day he pulls through. He doesn't succeed all the time, but that's what makes him remarkably relatable and admirable. This quality is tied with the fact that he is a family-oriented person. I think Donald is at his most charming and likable when his loyalty and love for family is at the forefront.

So, how many of you are also getting this? I have them almost every day. Just recently I started to screenshot them to compare is the "sender" the same. Couple of months ago there were usually named accounts, but I used to report and block them, then just was deleting their posts in my inbox. Then all of them turned into anonymous bots. And I started to report them again. I suspect this is how they add you to their bot data base or something like that. Under this post there are hundreds of people mentioned.

I got mentioned like this couple of times before, right after I reported several named accounts. The reason why I am so stern with these scammers is because I know how they look like in my home country, Ukraine, where I spent most of my life with its coup, civil war and the 9 first months of the 2022 war. I understand what tactics they are using, what tear-jerking words they are writing (with an audacity to use sad emojis in a "cry for help") and how they are taking photos of soiled kids telling them to look more miserable and doe-eyed - it all will evoke pity to manipulate protective instincts in many kind-hearted people so they would give the scammers money. These guys flooded Tumblr to the brim, as Tumblr is full of impressionable young people and young people are the easiest to manipulate because of their natural thirst for justice. You can look at any revolution to undestand how dirty it was. Any war is complex and not entirely black-and-white. If you want to know the causes and reasons, do your research. It's not the best to listen to the loudest, because most of the time they are screaming over the quite truth. Yes, stay true to your morals, but don't let your emotions blind you. A certain dose of cynicism and mistrust is sometimes more helpful than a sea of sympathy tears shed.

MOLLY'S FUTURE MISHAPS: THE FULL TRAILER!!

In a world where sea slugs evolved to live on one of Jupiter's moons, one sea bunny's mistake causes the time travel adventure of a lifetime...! A 460 page comic, a plush, and more!?

NOW LIVE ON KICKSTARTER!

happy 413 everyone!! 15 years felt like a significant number so i wanted to do push myself to do smthg over the top for this one haha

this comic has had me in a chokehold for over 10 years waow.. still lookin forward to see what comes from the new team! anyway happy anniversary sweethearts <333

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"In recent years, there has been a rush on the internet to supply image descriptions and to call out those who don’t. This may be an example of community accountability at work, but it’s striking to observe that those doing the most fierce calling out or correcting are sighted people. Such efforts are largely self-defeating. I cannot count the times I’ve stopped reading a video transcript because it started with a dense word picture. Even if a description is short and well done, I often wish there were no description at all. Get to the point, already! How ironic that striving after access can actually create a barrier. When I pointed this out during one of my seminars, a participant made us all laugh by doing a parody: “Mary is wearing a green, blue, and red striped shirt; every fourth stripe also has a purple dot the size of a pea in it, and there are forty-seven stripes—”

“You’re killing me,” I said. “I can’t take any more of that!”

Now serious, she said it was clear to her that none of that stuff about Mary’s clothes mattered, at least if her clothes weren’t the point. What mattered most about the image was that Mary was holding her diploma and smiling. “But,” she wondered, “do I say, Mary has a huge smile on her face as she shows her diploma or Mary has an exuberant smile or showing her teeth in a smile and her eyes are crinkled at the edges?”

It’s simple. Mary has a huge smile on her face is the best one. It’s the don’t-second-guess-yourself option."

--Against Access, by John Lee Clark, a DeafBlind educator

been a while since I drew some wigglytuff n chatot, sketched out some backstory headcanon things. I think Chatot started out working for the Pokemon Exploration Federation in a back-of-house role, as a cartographer or some other detailed work processing lots of information. he met Wigglytuff on an excursion for work, and Wigglytuff, being the affable person he is, convinced Chatot to team up for the day. They hit it off well, and Wigglytuff didn't want to let go of this connection. So, he approached Chatot and convinced him to form an exploration team together. Chatot was quite a stickler to his duties and refused at first, but as the days passed by, he realised his heart truly belonged out on the field with Wigglytuff, not stuck inside.

i'd like to expand on it later but for now, this is what i got.

tldr: drawing my adoptive gay grandparents

whats that defunct land quote again? every part of the film making process is awful, but not making film is even worse? idk something like that. anywah im being completely normal about art rn ::))

Donro Week Gift Day

I come bearing gift art. :O Day 7, Gift for @donro-week

Each graphic is inspired by a different creator!

For @sikyurame - A family night up on a hill to stargaze, set in the Paralyzed AU. With a special someone. ; ]

For @gyorslab - You had me at "apple farm donro!" Originally proposed a donro week much earlier on in the DT fandom, so I hope you don't mind me making a tribute to you! Would not have had the idea to run this donro week if not for you :)

For @owlsong74 - Inspired by "A Pancake-Sweet Morning". Sweet fic with a very slow, domestic donro dynamic that I adore.

For @endtr0ducin - Gyro Beats Up an Ableist, Part 2: Electric Boogaloo. Sorry Pete, someone had to play the villain for this. tw blood just in case.

If you would like to be untagged/unmentioned in this post please let me know.

QOTD: Which donro creator/fic do you recommend?

Aside from the people mentioned here, @wacky-nameless-inventor-24 and @shychick-52 write Donro fanfiction I enjoy!

Level 7 On the Danger Scale (AO3 account req.) is another fun story with DT17 Donro. As is A Nudge in the Right Direction.

There were many people who came and went making donro art and fic, and I appreciate every one of you. Also, thank you to everyone who participated in the Donro Week; you made this week full of gaiety and, well, gay birds. Two positive things!

Alflear Week (2)

enjoy this unedited first draft lol. More sad Alear than Alflear, admittedly. For @malflearweek

The blizzard was cold. Nothing alive should be here. He just had to do his work for Sombron… for Father. It should have been simple, solitary. But now there was someone with his face. He looked just like what he saw in the mirror, except his hair had a blue half. Instead of two crimson eyes, he had a blue one.

He could summon Emblems, too. Was he a Fell Dragon too? But those Emblems could talk. Their faces shone with life. Their hairstyles were vibrant with colors. His own Emblems looked unfeeling and lifeless. Fell Dragons didn’t need such things.

The person across from him had companions in the Emblems and a group of humans. They all rallied behind the strange dragon. He didn’t shout at them or threaten them. His voice was soft, welcoming, and responded to his followers’. It was strange. That was supposed to be a weakness. Leaders weren’t supposed to have companions. But they smiled at each other. For some reason, they all listened to him.

There was another strange thing. The human with the flower garland held his hand. He squeezed it back. The way they looked at each other, he thought this was love. Not the love he felt for his sister, or the one he wanted from Father. This was the strange love he saw in picture books.

He had to fight them. It made his stomach churn. He took so many lives already, and now he had to fell someone who looked like him. Maybe that was why everyone loved the one with his face. He didn’t look like someone who had to kill mercilessly. No, this was the thinking of a defect. It was time to fight.

The human with the flower crown– Alfred, he’d heard– met his sword with a lance. He was strong, but… his attacks were tepid. This, too, was strange. He had seen Alfred dispatch the corrupted with ease. He only needed a single, mighty swing. Now, when engaged in combat with a distinct advantage, this human couldn't disarm him.He locked eyes with his opponent. The fierce anger that burned when he fought the corrupted dissipated. Instead, he looked sad. Perhaps not sad, but pity, he realized. For him, a defect? For him, someone who couldn't fully silence the swirl of doubt in his heart? Could a dragon like him be pitied?

It was the one with his face who struck him down, his hands trembling around his sword. Even at the brink of defeat, he was pitied. They were stronger than him. They should use it to finish him off. He shouldn't be here anymore. But they just faded into the snowstorm, their dark figures knit together as one.

He wasn’t strong. He could not love. What did he have? The last of his energy drained out as he lay in the snow, he dreamed about what it was like to be loved.…From the distance, a dragon with luminous blue hair approached.