#and fuck every product meta makes/runs these days

[nazmazh]

Gods, snapchat seems to be an app focused around making the most purposefully infuriating design choices for their users:

Shitty AI thing pinned to the top of your friends list. Unremovable by any means unless you pay for a snapchat subscription

Buzzing notification whenever anyone in a conversation starts typing, meaning a constant pattern of unnecessary notification at any time

Not only is the main page filled with content you haven't specifically requested (A Meta staple at this point, realistically), but it's so easy to accidentally click on to something by accident, which the shitty algorithms will then decide that you must clearly enjoy

On that - So many things they try to send directly to you and notify of that you have not specifically opted into. The only way to disable this is to apparently disable all notifications from the the app period, which kind of defeats the purpose of using it for messaging with your friends.

If, heaven-fucking-forbid, you don't immediately turn your gaze towards something you've been notified of, it will spam you with reminder notifications until you do.

This includes if you dismiss shitty random story notifications from random assholes that you don't know and have never interacted with that otherwise, as stated above, apparently cannot be disabled

I don't even know how I managed to disable the random-ass friend suggestions and got it to stick - I've never found the setting sequence I used again to pass along to other people who want to get rid of it. They probably eliminated the pathway during one of their updates or something, but because mine was already disabled, it might have avoided being turned back on or something. If they reactivated it at any point, I would have been fucking fuming!

In short, if there were literally any other app that I could use for sending/receiving group chat messages or quick random nonsense pictures from friends and family, and I could convince them to move to that app, I would fucking drop snapchat in a fucking heartbeat. I would purge every trace of it from my phone and block it from ever being suggested to me again.

Meta seems to be determined to make their products as unpleasant and user-unfriendly as possible these days (Yay, enshittification...)

But snapchat? It's like they dialed the piss-off factor up to over 9000 just to see how much bullshit people will tolerate before leaving, despite inertia and other pressures/factors that otherwise keep them there.

[micamicster]

ma'am the people want to hear your blocking thoughts it's not something i really paid attention to but then when you mentioned it I can see how that's part of what gives letterkenny it's letterkenny vibes? anyway THOUGHTS

omg SO. okay. I am not the best person to discuss this (i know very little about cinematography and the terms etc that should be used to talk about this) but i am happy to give my thoughts!

So the video that prompted this question is a great example of it,

Just the way that wayne, like, pops up from behind that wooden structure to say his line is hysterical. The screenshots don't do it justice

here are a couple more just from like, the first 2 episodes of the show.

Letterkenny tends to pose its cast in tableau, where everyone sits in the exact same position every time and their shots are very static--they have everyone run their dialogue/bit without much movement from the established positions. I think this is likely a product of this show starting out as an incredibly low budget youtube series that these guys were filming themselves. You would set up the camera to get everyone in the shot, do the scene, move the camera. But from the very beginning they're using these static shots as part of the humor of the series, by framing the characters in unexpected or unnatural ways. (A big favorite of the series is the shot that unexpectedly cuts off the character's face and tbh it cracks me up every time like look at these!)

Even early on, this sort of attention to detail added to the shows appeal. It's evolved over the seasons into its own visual language, that they've kept even as the show's budget increased.

I think it adds to the humor of the show, and it also helps establish the small town repetitiveness of it? Like every time they have a scene at the produce stand, the characters sit in their produce-stand-positions. It really drives home how they do the exact same things every day with the exact same people. The conversations vary, the setting is identical.

Now for an even more meta take on it, I think this stiff and unexpected framing/blocking is related to our stiff and unexpected protaganist. Wayne (jared keeso you're SO fucking funny) always stands the exact same way, he moves very abruptly from one specific pose to another, he always holds the telephone the exact same way, he has specific and repetitive motions he always does in the same order, he's our autistic king and he's the toughest guy in letterkenny! The framing and blocking mimic his body movements, making us view the whole show from his perspective, inside his world. It's so fun <3

look at that center framing wes anderson who?

[gffa]

Not to add onto the whole "why the fuck are you getting so many negative anons lately?" train, but yeah it actually does suck to see you getting those.

I genuinely like your blog and I find your meta analysis super interesting even if I don't necessarily agree with your opinions/takes all the time. But I think that's mostly because I find great personal enjoyment in just seeing how other people interpret a piece of media I love differently from me.

Your posts have genuinely helped me fall even more in love with this fandom and I've actually taken some personal inspiration from you on how to handle these sort of weird/semi-hostile asks with my own blog.

Thanks, anon, I appreciate it. I'll be fair and say that part of why I'm getting more lately is that I'm answering a few of them, when I do that, I get more people continuing to send things, which is how it is for anyone who answers this kind of ask. When I don't have time/emotional reserves for asks or just delete/block them, it doesn't stir as much up--well, usually, sometimes I do get "why didn't you answer my ask??" messages and, like, guys I had THREE SEPARATE CRISES LAST WEEK, I'm only on tumblr to shitpost right now. And that's part of it, too, that I've had a really shitty month+ and so my patience for this is lower than it usually is and I may well have a lot of "fuck you, this is bullshit" undertones that are stirring things up as well. My blog isn't for everyone, but also my blog doesn't have to be all things to everyone who finds it interesting, it's my blog. It's for me. Yeah, I post a lot of stuff that I hope people find useful, I do a lot of resource/reference posts, I do a lot of official art posts, I try to be objective about stuff, etc, but at the end of the day, this isn't my job, I'm not a social media manager running a brand account, I'm not here to sell a product to a paying customer, this is my personal blog. I am one person who has my set of opinions, I'm not here to be all things to everyone. If you disagree with me on something, that's okay! I probably disagree with you right back! We're individual fans who have different opinions on stuff and maybe I'm louder than other people, but I am still just a single fan who wants to talk about what I think of Star Wars. I write posts I'm willing to share with others, I put my opinions out there, I understand the risks involved with that, but I think a few more people could do to understand that I'm not just a corporate employee writing up posts that someone else uses as source material, I am an individual fan writing my own opinions on things. The same goes for a lot of the blogs who are getting negative/semi-hostile anons, they're just a single person on the internet who wants to talk about how they see Star Wars! (I don't want people to worry, I don't classify anyone who disagrees with me as automatically hostile or negative, the posts I answers with good faith responses, I'm pretty sure came from good faith places.  We’re specifically talking about the “do your job” type of asks.) I'm deeply flattered that you're still hanging out even when you disagree sometimes, because that’s my ultimate goal.  Not necessarily to convert people (though, of course I would enjoy it if that happens, I’m only human XD) but to explain where I’m coming from and hopefully get people to understand how I got there, even if they’re not on the same road or going the same place. Fandom gets so much better when you realize not everyone has to agree with you, you don’t need every space to be for you, you don’t need every post to be one that hits your buttons just right.  You just need a handful of people that you’re having fun with and vibe with you, a handful more that can have some engaging, interesting discussions about topics you agree/disagree with when you’re in the right space for it, and a handful of artists/writers making the fic you enjoy.  That’s it, that’s the recipe to a good fandom experience, that you make the stuff that makes you happy and have a handful of people you can trust to talk to about it. If I can be one of those people that occasionally provides commentary you may not agree with, but find to be thoughtful/how I got there, then I will absolutely take that and find it to enrich my fandom experience, too.

[birgittesilverbae]

In a siuraine warrior nun AU, who would be the halo barer? This is totally random lol but popped into my head. I feel like Moiraine would fit into Beatrice’s role well with her Cairhien calculating and careful nature while Siuan’s humble background and natural leadership matches Ava’s.

making me think about this feels like a war crime tbh but you specifically are always allowed to war crime me because they're always outstanding war crimes

the character assignments are a definite fit, especially considering Moiraine's... tense... relationship with her family (how many times am I gonna talk about the fact that her house name doesn't get dropped in-text until book FOUR), though I maintain that Moiraine by far the more reckless of the two, especially when it comes to her own wellbeing. which, I guess, better not to give Moiraine a Halo because Self-Sacrifice Sedai would take that as encouragement to run headlong into ever possible danger

and there are parallels that can be drawn, too, between the Halo failing Ava thanks to Adriel's influence and Siuan being stripped of her abilities, though of course the one is far more Final and the damage more lasting (I'm not going to get into it I'm not going to get into it I'm not-) and might be better paralleled to Ava pre-Halo were every aspect of it not handled dreadfully in the text canon.

Moiraine I think I see echoes of in the rage that boils to the surface at times in Beatrice, that you can tell has been simmering there for years, and in the way Beatrice overlooks her own feelings and compartmentalizes to the extreme and in doing so can overlook other's feelings as well. Moiraine is the fucking queen of Mission Above All Else, up to and including her own life, and doesn't necessarily accept that other people might have a different view of a situation in the heat of the moment (a la Beatrice in the Apartment Argument). Though, of course, Beatrice is far, far more likely to apologize, which may stem in part from her Catholic Church cult being less physically and psychologically abusive to her than Moiraine's Catholic-Church-analog cult.

If we're looking at New Spring Moiraine and Siuan especially, I think Siuan fits as the naive and enthusiastic Halo Bearer who's resistant to the call. Her arc in the decade following would align closely with Ava's rise to leadership in the OCS - Siuan learning the Great Game at Cetalia's elbow as Ava learns combat and tactics at Beatrice's, events progressing in a seemingly unstoppable avalanche that leads to them really assuming the mantle of leadership. (and there's something to be said for the lifespan of Amyrlins in that specific time period as well, that nests neatly into the Warrior-Nuns-die-young bit)

I do think Moiraine as a Sister Warrior wouldn't have the same deep connections with her fellows as Beatrice has fostered. Beatrice has an empathy in her interactions with her sisters, in her shepherding and cautioning and redirecting, and, while at times Moiraine has showed that ability is there (in her early interactions with Egwene, for instance), by and large she sees others as tools that can be used to achieve her goals ("A tool made for a purpose is not demeaned by being used for that purpose.") where Beatrice - in the vast majority of cases - sees the person before she sees their value to the cause. Which, again, may be a product of their individual upbringings and the world which they inhabit. Would a Beatrice raised in the Cairhienin court so easily open herself up to someone, so easily offer up those bits and pieces of information about herself that might be used as weapons against her?

I leave you with this message I sent a friend about a meta post the other day

[mishasminions]

The Last Time I’ll Write a Long Post About Supernatural (15x18-15x20)

15 YEARS OF WATCHING THIS SHOW. 11 YEARS OF RUNNING A BLOG ABOUT IT. IT’S BEEN QUITE A RIDE.

[15x20 Speculation + evidence at the bottom]

First off, I just wanna come clean and say, after all these years, I still think they should’ve ended at Season 5.

If you’re going to come at me with “Then why’d you stick around to watch it if you didn’t like it?”, your question is immature, and the answer is simple: I just want to know what happens next (I also love the main characters and their actors too). You can watch a show and still think it’s shit.

Call me a clown, but despite all the disappointment and trust issues that this show has given me, I would still look forward to the day where it might just turn itself around and bring back the quality it once had, or realize the potential of each story it was trying to tell, or at the very least, do justice by my favorite ship.

Never happened.

They’ve had a few good episodes here and there. I can’t imagine the SPN Universe without The Man Who Would Be King, The French Mistake, and Scoobynatural. Seasons 6-10 were enjoyable at times. I blocked out most of 7 & 11-15. 

If you’ve been following this blog since its heydays in 2010-2014, you’d know I’d try my best to defend Destiel and this show’s decisions regarding it no matter what.

Because you know what, as a CONCEPT, this show is good. If you take a look at all the worlds its storylines have birthed in fanfiction/fanworks, you’d see how much Supernatural has wasted its own story arcs. The writing got shittier as each season progressed, and they’ve obviously given up in production as well because the quality in the execution has noticeably gone down too, but if you take a step back and take a look at the bigger picture, you’ll see that this show still tries to make sense of itself.

[If you’re still following this post, please bear with me, I know this is long, but I just want you to understand how jaded and pessimistic I am with regards to this show, so maybe you can buy into whatever hopeful thing I’m about to say later on.]

SO LET’S TALK ABOUT DESTIEL

Never in my wildest dreams did I think that they would give us Castiel’s “I love you” speech. To the point where, if I weren’t so desperate for it, I would argue that it was completely out of character for him to word vomit the way he did (but I’m not gonna diss on that right now because I’ll take what I can get).

I’ve valued every meaningful and obscure exchange that Dean and Cas have had in the earlier seasons, and I was willing to accept their relationship as just that--undefined, without any clear boundaries as to what they really are. And I think that was beautiful on its own.

But now, they’ve chosen to define it.

After they’ve driven every possible wedge between Dean and Castiel in seasons 11-15, to try to explain away their feelings as something they offer to a collective.

Dean can’t mourn and pray for JUST Cas, he has to mourn and pray for EVERYBODY--even Crowley, even some chick he just met, because god forbid he cries about just the guy who has given up everything for him--that would be “too homo”.

They’ve even set Cas on a path to abrupt fatherhood just so he can care about something other than Dean. Make it seem as if Dean wasn’t his purpose through and through.

And after all these years of this stupid show trying to deny it, they choose to acknowledge it at the worst possible circumstance, at a time where they’ve been so far apart, that it seems so foreign for them to suddenly come together.

But here we are. And they’ve chosen to tell us.

Chosen to tell us that everything that Castiel has done leading up to his death, he has done it because he was IN LOVE WITH DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that the ONE THING THAT WOULD MAKE CAS HAPPY IS DEAN WINCHESTER.

Chosen to tell us that BEING WITH DEAN WINCHESTER is something that CAS WANTS BUT KNOWS HE CAN’T HAVE.

And they’ve also chosen to tell us nothing about how Dean feels.

Sure, finding out your angel made a deal, the stipulations of said deal, his newfound happiness philosophy, his long-winded monologue of why he loves you and why you’re worthy of his love, and to top it all off he tells you that being in love with you is enough to make him happy while he subtly hints that he’s always wanted to be WITH you romantically, was a lot to process in the 5 minutes after you’ve just had an existential crisis.

It’s whatever, right? Let’s culminate 11 years worth of tension and feelings in 5 minutes. Let’s waste the entire episode with cringey expository dialogue, and irrelevant sequences. The whole season was a waste anyway.

You know what Supernatural? FUCK YOU FOR THAT. They deserved better. WE deserve better.

And I would love nothing more than to hurl every possible insult your way,

But for the last time, I’m going to HOPE that you’re finally going to try to make it better for the fans that stuck by you all these years.

No more baiting new viewers, no more placating casual viewers, no more excuses. 15 years. Bring it home for the people who have actually been around.

SO HERE’S HOW I THINK 15x20 IS GONNA GO

There’s two ways this series is gonna end. Horribly or Spectacularly.

First let’s all take into consideration what Andrew Dabb says about it:

So, let’s start with

ENDING HORRIBLY

In this scenario, Misha is telling the truth about his last day of filming being 15x18. His “camping trip” during the last few days of filming 15x20, was actually a camping trip. He doesn’t go to Vancouver to shoot.

Jensen wasn’t “being careful” during the zoom interviews that it was just him and Jared quarantining for the shoot, it really was just him and Jared (althought most of these were done pre 15x19) Supernatural isn’t smart enough to do misleading PR, and they’re once again oblivious to the potential of their own story.

Misha hasn’t posted a “Goodbye Castiel” tweet because he’s probably saving it for last episode or he forgot because it was overshadowed by the Destiel trend that night.

So what we get is:

Sam and Dean are on the road again, up against the monster of the week. Only their world no longer has actual Supernatural beings anymore, so the monsters they’re fighting are humans.

Humans end up killing the Winchesters (despite having gone up against literally every powerful being imaginable INCLUDING God himself). Dean and Sam end up in heaven and relive their greatest hits.

Meanwhile, Castiel rots in The Empty because he died after realizing that he was happy and gay. Jack doesn’t bother rescuing him—his surrogate dad, the guy who made this specific deal to spare him—even though it was so easy for him get Cas in and out of The Empty when he had a fraction of the power that he has now.

Dean never speaks of Castiel’s confession because despite all the hints of a profound bond in the earlier seasons, and the fact that Dean has never cared for anyone (who isn’t his actual brother) as immensely as he does Cas, Supernatural just can’t have its main macho character be “suddenly bisexual” because that would hurt the male ego or some shit.

His heaven would probably be living happily ever after with his family. “Family” meaning Mary and John Winchester--two of the shittiest parents ever (but they’re not going to include them in this episode like they were supposed to because of Covid) and Sam.

Sam also gets a dog. As usual.

I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to do this. After everything they’ve pulled, this would be right up their alley. I actually expect this ending.

Anyway, onto the next possible ending

ENDING SPECTACULARLY

In this scenario, Supernatural tries to stick the landing, and Jensen’s whole “It didn’t sit well with me at first, but then I took a step back after talking to Kripke, and realized that I had to view it from an audience perspective, I am now really excited about it” (DC Con 2019) anecdote about his thoughts on the final episodes, were actually about Dean potentially ending up with Cas. (Which would totally make sense because Jensen at first didn’t see Dean as anything but hetero, but as of late, he has been throwing in Destiel jokes of his own, so he seems to have warmed up to the idea)

Backed with Misha’s tidbit (DLConline 2020) that he and Jensen had conversations about Destiel, and that they wouldn’t have gone through with it if Jensen wasn’t onboard with it, but Jensen didn’t push back at all. (Why would they need to check with Jensen if it was just Cas going all in?)

Robert Berens (writer of 15x18) also wrote the script at the beginning of Season 15, but made Misha privy to the concept a year prior (Season 14), so they went into this season knowing about Destiel going canon.

This one’s a reach, but this scenario also supposes that Misha was lying about his whereabouts during the filming of the final episode, and him saying that 15x18 was his last episode is part of the diversion to avoid taking away from the weight of Castiel’s death.

And that Supernatural is actually self-aware of its own material (similar to how they have wrapped things up in the past—lots of expository dialogue, poor execution, but fulfills the story arc)

Since Season 15 is basically a Meta Season (Chuck/God as a writer, pretentiously calling out how he created the worlds, its characters, and basically invalidating the past 14 seasons), and 15x19 is supposedly the finale for Season 15, written by two of the worst Supernatural writers, Brad Buckner and Eugenie Ross-Leming (Bob Singer’s wife), then we can assume that 15x19 is where the shitty writers kill themselves--as Chuck, of course.

So we get a badly written episode that produces a bad ending, or as Becky put it, “All action, and no Cas”

So we get the bad writers season ending at 15x19.

And 15x20 is where Sam and Dean write their own stories, and where the cast had a hand in pitching ideas for it.

Dabb has mentioned that 15x20 (Act Two) is a SERIES finale, where they try to resolve the characters’ journeys.

Because as everyone has acknowledged, Supernatural isn’t about the story, it’s about the characters.

So here’s what we can get out of it:

With no more Supernatural beings left to fight, Sam and Dean are in a stalemate. They’ve resigned themselves to fighting to the bitter end, but the “end” has passed, and they’re still standing.

So they try to figure out who they are now, and what they want out of the life they still have.

Sam still wants a normal apple pie life. Before Dean dragged him out of college to go hunting with him, he had a whole life planned out for him. Become a lawyer, settle down with a nice girl, and get a dog. He gave all that up because they had work to do, but now the work is finished, he can finally go back to wanting that for himself again.

Dean finally realizes his self-worth after Cas saves him again. His prayer to Cas in purgatory may have helped him come to terms with his anger, but the whole “you’ve done everything you did for love” speech finally put him in his place, and he learns not to hate himself anymore.

But of course, he cannot fully reconcile with himself if he doesn’t get Cas back, and tell him how he feels.

Because Dean actually wants something for himself this time. Something he knows he can finally have if he can just salvage it.

So maybe this time around, with the help of Jack (off-screen), Dean saves Cas. Grips him tight and raises him from perdition.

They bypass The Empty deal by turning Cas human, and he lives the rest of his days with Dean.

Dean and Cas know they deserve to be saved, and they know that they deserve to be happy.

(Wishful thinking, maybe they kiss a little)

Anyway...

I’m just saying, there’s NO WAY that they’d have Cas go through that whole rushed speech, if they weren’t going to do anything about it later on.

But again, after 10 years of disappointment, I wouldn’t put it past Supernatural to pat themselves on the back and say, “Okay, we sort of gave them what they wanted. We’re good now”

If that’s the case, Supernatural, I’m sorry I wasted my time on you.

Here’s to hoping 🤡

[thecarnivorousmuffinmeta]

Hey! I love your meta’s, a little while ago you talked about The Order of the Phoenix as an organization could you talk about the Death Eaters?

The post anon is referencing.

TL;DR the Order is incompetently hilarious and Dumbledore is a man who trusts no one.

Oh, the Death Eaters, what to say about the Death Eaters...

In a World Without Voldemort, They'd Probably Be Arsonists

One of the things JKR implies in the series, and something fandom seems to take for granted, is that Tom Riddle is the ultimate corrupting influence.

Were it not for him, the Wizarding World would be a much better place, and people like Bellatrix LeStrange would be productive members of society.

As soon as he is killed, even, by Harry, the good guys win, their problems all presumably solved, and Harry tells his son Albus Severus that it's totally fine if he's put into Slytherin.

I don't believe that though.

To me, it's not so much that Tom Riddle corrupted these people, but that he gave them an organized cause. The people themselves, oh, they were itching for a fight.

In a world without Tom I think they'd be a loosely, poorly organized, group (probably with Bellatrix as the ring leader) where they commit acts of domestic terrorism probably involving burning offensive shops to the ground or attacking muggleborns, halfbloods, and blood traitors.

Voldemort, to me, is designed to pander to them (and not the other way around).

The Death Eaters' Beginnings

So, first off, I think Tom's goals are not what he says they are. What he represents to his followers is exactly what they want to hear, wrapped in a grandiose theatric bow that they just love.

But how did this all start?

First, I don't believe in the Knights of Walpurgis. Instead I think Tom came relatively out of nowhere in the 70's uses parseltongue to prove his heritage as the Heir of Slytherin and thus of purer blood than any of them.

He throws these exciting rallies/parties that the rebellious, angsty, teenage heirs all go to. There he says everything they wanted to hear in the most eloquent manner they've ever heard, promises them the action that their fathers have never delivered, promises them a role in the glorious revolution and a place in history, and probably offers them mounds of cocaine.

All the Death Eaters we see, or the core of them, appear to be in this age range where they'd be in Hogwarts or just out of it when Voldemort came knocking. I can imagine they're all whipped up with excitement, YEAH LET'S BLOW UP THE MUDBLOODS and for some that's great, for others... things don't go the way they expected.

October 31, 1981: It All Falls Apart

Regulus famously steals Tom's horcrux. I imagine it wasn't so much that he learned the error of his ways but that he saw what Tom Riddle was really after: the destruction of his very society.

Lucius is riding high until October 31, 1981 and he sees the complete destruction of the entire Black family. Lucius' priorities greatly shift and as he grows older he prays Voldemort never returns. Unfortunately, Tom does, and he charges interest.

Bellatrix absolutely loses her mind, refuses to accept reality, and tries to torture the Longbottoms for information they do not possess. She is imprisoned in Azkaban and never truly recovers from this.

Snape ends up the cause of death for Lily Evans and must forever live with the guilt and be tied to her prophesied son. He also becomes Dumbledore's lackey forever, which ultimately gets him killed.

Point being, no one's having a good time. Some because they figure out being a Death Eater wasn't all it was cracked up to be, and others because they had the Voldemort rug pulled out from under their feet when Tom Riddle disappears.

Pettigrew flees and lives as the Weasley rat for nearly fifteen years.

They're left making a mad scramble as they try to pick up the pieces of their lives.

Canon Catches Up

More than ten years go by and then suddenly, in a muggle graveyard, the surviving Death Eaters discover that they are bound to Voldemort for the rest of their lives.

Death cannot stop this man and he has branded them: there's no escape.

Some are still enthusiastic supporters of the cause: Bellatrix is vindicated that her lord has returned, he rescues her from hell on earth, and everything's finally coming up Bella. Barty is similar in actively working for Voldemort's resurrection.

Lucius, meanwhile, lives in constant terror. Karkaroff desperately flees the country and hopes Tom will not find him. Snape, is in fact, Dumbledore's agent. Pettigrew only returned in utter desperation and has now cut off his own hand.

They're not the young men they were, some of them have families, to some of the past ten years have been utterly miserable. They have to watch as their children make the same damn mistakes they did, be sucked into this same hell hole, and there's nothing they can do about it.

There is a notable reluctance for the cause, and yet, they have to try with the same vigor or this madman will kill them all.

And it's all worthless anyway: come 1998, Voldemort dies again (perhaps for real this time, who knows, Harry Potter seems to think so for whatever reason) and then they are imprisoned for their acts as Death Eaters.

And they just laugh, because how badly Lucius wishes he could go back in time and tell his eighteen-year-old self, "YOU DUMB FUCK, LEAVE NOW!"

But Do They Learn Anything?

No.

Just because we see some of them regret being Death Eaters doesn't mean they regret their beliefs. Their beliefs were fine, even blowing up people here and there, a bit gauche but fine.

But maybe following Voldemort blindly was a bad idea.

Are They More Competent Than the Order?

No.

Tom Riddle is terrifyingly competent in that he infiltrates the government with ease, has spies everywhere, and all but proclaims himself minister one day and nobody blinks.

He gains the full support of most of the wizarding world's wealthiest and prestigious families.

But he doesn't actually give these people anything to do. Because there's nothing for them to do, with them, Tom's won. He owns the Wizengamot, the Ministry, everything.

There's no need to fight. It's over, there never was a war. Society is primed to accept Tom Riddle as their ruler.

However, the likes of Bellatrix LeStrange thinks there's a glorious war on, so "uh, go out and blow up a few muggles, have fun." And the young Death Eaters (and the older ones), think they've committed this great, daring, brave, and very important act.

Tom only seems to hand out real assignments when in desperate straits or else when being particularly vindictive.

Lucius, after messing up with the diary, is told to retrieve a prophecy he is not allowed to touch in a department of the ministry he should have no access to. If he fails: Tom kills his entire family. When Lucius does fail, Tom assigns his son to assassinate an already dying Dumbledore. These aren't real tasks, though they do have the appearance of one, and consequences for failure.

Barty, Tom is forced to rely on, as he is trapped in this dying infant's body. And better Barty, someone who is truly loyal and seems fairly clever, than Peter Pettigrew who is a miserable scum bag who'd sell his grandmother for a bar of soap.

Barty, of course, fucks this up. Rather than just kidnap Harry Potter at any of the many easy points this could be done (Hogsmeade trip, lure Harry out to Hogsmeade with super secret serial information about Voldemort/Snape being a Death Eater, etc.), Barty is determined to make use of the Triwizard Tournament to destroy his father's legacy.

This means rather than a few weeks, it takes months to kidnap Harry, and even then they bring along an extra boy who then gets killed and provides some evidence that Tom Riddle has in fact returned. (Somebody murdered Cedric). It takes months and Barty actively ensuring Harry makes it through the tournament and does well, leaving open the possibility that he might get caught helping Harry cheat at any moment. And of course, Barty has to pretend to be Madeye Moody for months, keeping his man locked and drugged in his trunk.

Thankfully, Moody's such a paranoid wreck, no one even notices.

Quirrell, Tom is forced to rely on. Quirrell fucks up, though admittedly not as badly as Barty. Quirrell fails to steal the stone when it's in transit/in Gringotts. He fails to murder Harry Potter, an eleven year old boy in the world's most dangerous school. He rouses Snape's suspicion almost immediately. Then of course he doesn't get the stone. He at least gets to the room with the stone and nearly overpowers Harry and gets it had he not been mysteriously lit on fire by the power of love/Lily Evans.

The only one Tom ever really relies on by choice is Snape. Snape is charged with spying on Dumbledore and later running Hogwarts (which he fucks up).

There is only one competent man in Britain: Severus Snape. Which is, of course, why he's a double agent that Dumbledore and Tom both extensively rely on despite his being a double agent.

There's no one else.

Tom Riddle doesn't make use of the Death Eaters but given they prove themselves enthusiastically incompetent at every turn I don't blame him. Just pretend to give them something to do and hope it makes them feel important.

That's all I've got in general, you want anything else you'll have to ask for something more specific.

[danvssomethingorother]

I watched the Chip and Dale movie and I’m nothing but cynical about it. I didn’t want to be like this towards things, I’m not even this cynical about MCU. But I am more cynical about this movie then I have been about anything in a long time.

See the thing is I’m too invested in who framed Rodger rabbit, the movie and the OG book series. It has a unique world and it has established rules and you know a plot that doesn’t feel like they gave up on to shove more references in.

If you want to just have some laughs, there are some pretty decent ones in here but it’s so so unnervingly un self aware about every single one of these jokes it makes my hair raise in anger.

Spoilers for anyone who actually gives a shit but Peter Pan as the twist villain is a big one. Yes Disney, you are so meta and funny making fun of child stars you ruined especially the original VA for Peter Pan Bobby Driscoll who this character is pretty much word for word based on.

It’s so funny making fun of cash grab nostalgia bait coming from DISNEY the mother fucking MONARCH in charge of the cash grab nostalgia wank fest reboots.

Haha it’s so funny there are rip offs of Disney movies and they are run by an evil guy who uses them as slave labor. that just reminds me Disney itself isn’t great about paying its production crew and fucks over the industry…oh and how Disney has successfully run most of these knock off companies out of business suing them to hell and back for copyright so yeah those bootleg movies don’t really hurt them or their stars. Oh and while we are on copyright, Disney fucked it over so bad you have to jump through hoops to avoid their steal hold on fairy tale characters or risk their wrath.

Haha Robert Zemeckis movies were so ugly and uncanny but our hideous and bad animation featured in this damn movie sure aren’t. At least Robert was trying, you have millions of billions of dollars for budget and this animation is such ass. Compare the OG animation and art of these characters to the shit featured in this movie. It’s night and day but sure it’s funny to be lazy and sloppy. It makes you clever and meta.

The worst part is there could have been a story here, this could have been a good Rodger Rabbit sequel. Rodger or fuck chip and Dale if you had to, on a noir mystery finding out who has been kidnapping and mutating toons. Finding out it’s actually Hollywood executives taking advantage of the toons in their care. That could have been good! But it really shot it’s load early in this movie, you find out the big bad way too soon and the mystery is an after thought.

I don’t even consider this like that bad of a watch, don’t give a shit if you watch it or like it, Disney is gonna make money regardless do what you want bro. No judgment from me.

But I kinda really hate this movie the more I think about it.

[the-tzimisce]

Have you ever had like, a really garbage life event, one which seems so overwhelming that you can barely engage with the world around you, yet one which will resolve itself with the passage of time if you can just get through it? I present you your ultimate weapon:

Kittens Game.

In Kittens Game you click button to make number go up. Then you click more button to make other number go up, which you can use to make the first number go up more quickly. Then you click button to add a new number, which goes up at the expense of numbers one and two......after iterating this over the course of several IRL days, you find that getting number high enough to do absolutely anything is an hours-long slog and reset from the beginning with various carryover upgrades to increase the rate of increase at which number go up.

Kittens Game is an idle game....sort of. There are several core mechanics which you can let idle...if you don’t mind losing like 90% of your production of the very things you need most. You can wait IRL days for your steamworks to print manuscripts and automate crafting, at the cost of maybe all of your limited steel....or you could look at the game and click all -> beam, all -> slab, all -> steel, 10% parchment, all -> manuscript, all -> compendium, send hunters every few minutes. The choice is obvious. Don’t fucking do that! Touch grass!

Kittens Game, when mentally healthy, is an utter bane of my existence. It is bar none the stupidest way I could spend hours of my time, and yet if even a stray thought of it passes through my mind I find myself longing to not have enough iron to build another lumber mill so I can get enough wood to build another observatory, or to keep the game window compulsively on top so I can hit “observe the sky” as soon as it pops up more than one thousand times per run. When waiting for a biopsy result, the total distraction of calculating how much gold I need to trade for 2000 titanium, or what it would cost to boost storage enough to get my 65th workshop, is a consummate expression of whatever grace and mercy exists in this universe.

I am currently on my fifth run, which is farther than I’ve ever gotten, for my sins. My meta upgrades have changed the game balance in “interesting” ways (if you find that sort of thing interesting) and also made it much faster and more convenient, up until I get further than I’ve ever gotten before. Next run I’ll be able to more than double my chance for starcharts, which will deal with the mid-run trading blockade, because I’ll be able to upgrade my kitten geologists to mine for gold much sooner. I can’t wait to see what the next blockade is. I hope I don’t. There are entire mechanics I’ve seen talked about on the reddit, that seem central to later parts of the game, that I have simply never seen. Fortune willing, I never will.

I hope I’ve made this game sound like utter hell. I hope if you need a biopsy you’re seeing a doctor who doesn’t make you wait a month to come talk about your results in person when she then also can’t explain them to you. I hope your therapist doesn’t spend the whole time complaining that you won’t let her “sit with you in your distress” and your mom doesn’t say “well, we all don’t know when we’re going to die” and anyway we don’t need to go there but if you should end up there nevertheless I have, if not what you need, then what this fallen world has left to give you: Kittens Game.

[fangroyal]

#3 What is that one scene that you’ve always wanted to write but can’t be arsed to write all of the set-up and context it would need? (consider this permission to write it and/or share it anyway)

Fun Meta Asks for Writers

Adding the link to the ask game at the start this time, 'cause this is gonna be a long one, y'all. 😂

Where do I even begin? First of all, @angie-leena​, thank you so SO much for sending me this ask! It was the kick in the ass I needed to get me to actually write this scene, and for that I’m extremely grateful. I still don’t know if I’m entirely happy with the finished product, but it exists now, and that’s something.

So some of you may remember (if anyone actually follows my ramblings, haha!) that I’ve been simultaneously complaining about and obsessing over this gigantic WIP I’ve had since fucking March 2019. Nearly two and a half years have passed since I put the first word to paper, and oh how I’ve loved to cry out in frustration about how I have about 12k written on the stupid thing and yet not a single scene finished.

AT LEAST

NOT UNTIL TODAY

YES, I’VE DONE IT. I’ve finished a scene on this amazing, wonderful, and incredibly stupid WIP, and I could just cry.

FYI for anyone who doesn’t know what the fuck I’m talking about (which I’m sure is everyone, ‘cause I don’t expect anybody to remember this insane thing I’ve been shouting about all this time, LOL): this is the Slytherin My Gryffindor WIP. Yes, that is a working title. 😅 I will find a better one.....some day.......Ron/Draco is the main pair, but there will also be plenty of others sprinkled in the background.

Anyway, about this ask and that context I haven’t been arsed to write yet...

Context required in order to understand this scene 😂:

Fred Lives AU

The Muggle world and the Wixen world has kind of mixed in recent years, and it’s very common for magical people to be using Muggle technology

The Weasley twins have opened a second shop in Diagon Alley...selling sex toys (yes, really)

Their first original product line issssssss..........dildoes shaped like the Weasley brothers’ own dicks (and a fleshlight kind of thing for Ginny)

Yes this is crack!fic (but, like, also not???)

Ron has been made general manager of the shop and is there all the time, as they’re incredibly busy

Draco wants 👏 that 👏 D 👏, but is worried about Ron finding out, so keeps coming into the shop randomly hoping he won’t be there (and of course he always is)

Eventually there’s a day where Ron’s in the backroom, Charlie’s visiting and helping out at the register, and when Ron emerges, Charlie informs him that Draco Malfoy has just run in and bought Ron’s dildo

Cue Ron being incredibly turned on by this notion

So that pretty much brings us up-to-speed for this scene - it’s been a few days now, and Ron’s been trying to figure out a way to contact Draco to talk to him about the whole thing, since they never became friends or anything after the war and don’t regularly talk unless they’re just seeing each other around

The fic is meant to touch on, like...fame in the aftermath of the war (i.e. why anyone would be interested in sex toys modelled after the Weasley siblings in the first place)

Ron has evolved from his teenage self and grown to hate the fame - it prevents him from being able to date, because the press can never let him keep anything private

After this scene, the fic will focus on Ron and Draco developing a sexual - and eventually romantic - relationship (originally under the guise of “testing out” other products from the shop together)

They will try their best to keep their relationship a secret, but, like...everyone knows 😘😘😘

Also Draco is a model in this one (not important for this scene, but just thought you might want to know 😂)

In addition, some warnings/content to make note of before reading:

NC-17 (smut incoming!)

Technology circa 2005

Phone sex

Semi-public sex

Sex toys

Both Ron and Draco are a little drunk (but very consenting!)

Crack taken way too seriously

Of course, this hasn't been betaed or Britpicked, so I apologize for how very rough it is right now, lol. It will likely be a little (or a lot!) different if I ever actually finish this whole fucking fic and post it later on. I am treating this scene like a “sneak peek” of the fic, because I definitely do still want to try to finish it someday...

HOLY SHIT, I had a LOT more to say about it than I thought. 😅 So anyway. Scene under the cut.

Friday night at the Dragon's Head was packed. It took a bit of initiative, but Ron, Seamus, and Dean finally managed to snag them all a table in the back corner, hoarding the extra seats till Harry and Neville finally arrived, trailed closely by Ginny and Parkinson ― who were curiously short one blond wizard.

Ron tried not to think about it. He bought the first round with Harry, listening to him chat about the recent Puddlemere match against the Magpies. They ordered nibbles for the table. Ron munched on chips, his heart skipping every time the door opened across the room and another few patrons trickled in.

He was on his third pint of the evening when he started getting antsy. He sipped his Simison, using the light smoke curling around the rim of the glass to discreetly glance around the pub, hoping to spot a familiar head of blond hair in the crowd. His foot tapped impatiently on the floor.

"Is he coming, then?"

Ron's head snapped to attention. Ginny checked the door as well before turning back to Parkinson.

"Who?" Neville asked, snagging a vinegar-soaked chip from the bowl in the center of the table.

"Malfoy," Ginny said, craning her neck to see her girlfriend's screen.

Parkinson tapped away on her mobile, shaking her head. "No. Says he's already curled up with a bottle of wine and a good book, and doesn't fancy getting all done up."

Fucking hell. Ron drained the dregs at the bottom of his glass. It wasn't often Malfoy joined them on a mostly-Gryffindor outing ― not unless Parkinson could convince him. Somehow, Ron felt he should've known it wouldn't be in the cards tonight. Conversation pivoted again, and Ron ran his fingers up the sides of his empty pint, thinking.

At some point, Seamus and Harry set off to get another round, and Ginny hurried away with them after a quick peck to Parkinson's cheek. Neville and Dean had gotten into a chat about proper Mimbulus mimbletonia care, and Ron saw his chance. He could feel his heart start to thud in his chest as he cleared his throat, raising his voice to catch her attention.

"Parkinson?"

She turned back from watching Ginny leave, a small smile tugging at the corners of her mouth. "Yes?"

"Think you could give me Malfoy's number?"

The smirk she gave him in response made his hands shake a little as they drummed against the tabletop.

"Whatever for?"

Ron stared her down, knowing full well any excuse he told her would never be enough. Parkinson's expression was predatory ― as if she already knew the answer anyway. He waited for her to comment, bracing himself.

To his surprise, she instead dug her mobile back out of her handbag.

She turned the screen towards him, and he typed the number directly into the dialer on his phone. He waited a few minutes until everyone ― Parkinson included ― had moved on to other things and forgotten about him, and then slipped from the table.

Ron shouldered his way through the crowd to the loo, pushing inside and locking the door behind him. It was a small room, hardly bigger than a broom closet. There was a toilet and a sink, a grimy mirror hanging above it, and a dim ceiling lamp that barely lit the space.

Ron backed up to one side of the room and slumped against the wall. He gripped the phone in clammy hands. Those pints had picked a perfect moment to hit him all at once. Ron blinked away the creeping dizziness, staring down at the numbers glowing dauntingly on the tiny screen. He'd been unable to get it out of his mind for days ― the image of Malfoy riding his dildo ― and now that he had a way to contact him, he was frozen. The leaky faucet dripped, the sound maddening as it mingled with the rush of blood in his ears. This was stupid. This was so bloody stupid.

He hit call.

Ron held his breath, cupping the phone to his ear. The line rang and rang, until he started to realize he didn't have a plan B. What if Malfoy didn't answer? What if he had to leave a voicemail? What would he even say? He should've just texted him, damn it.

Then, suddenly, the ringing stopped. There was rustling and a mumbled, "Bloody useless thing." Then, louder, "Yes?"

"Malfoy?"

"Yes, this is ― Weasley?"

Malfoy sounded surprised. Ron breathed out gradually, his heartbeat slowing with it. Malfoy's voice was clear and present on the other end. No looking back. He tried to think of something to say, and only came up with one thing.

"Haven't seen you round the shop yet this week."

"Don't tell me that's really why you called." Malfoy sighed, trying to sound put-upon, but Ron could hear the hint of nerves underneath. "If you must know, that would be because I found what I'd been looking for."

"I know."

There was a sharp intake of breath on the other end. For a moment, Ron thought Malfoy might hang up. But then he cursed quietly. "Damn that brother of yours. Incorrigible."

So it really was true. Charlie hadn't just been taking the piss. Ron felt a warmth flare up in his belly, spreading down to the tops of his thighs.

"Try growing up with him. And the twins? Now that's a real nightmare."

"I was trying for discreet, but you were always there."

Ron leaned further back against the wall, staring up at the dark ceiling above. He thought of all those times Malfoy had dropped in at the shop, only to hurry out again if Ron ever came too close. Malfoy had jumped at the chance when Ron had been called away to the back that day.

Malfoy cleared his throat. "Well. You know. So what, then? Looking to mock me for it?"

"You always assume the worst with me. Why is that?" Although Ron couldn't exactly blame him. He hadn't given Malfoy much else to go on in years past. Neither of them had. "No. No, I was calling because…" Why had he been calling? It had seemed such a natural thing when he'd asked Parkinson for Malfoy's number not five minutes ago. "I was curious. If there was, er." He waved his free hand, searching for the words. Nothing sounded right. "Any particular reason for it."

Malfoy laughed ― a short bark of a sound. "I mean, obviously yes. It's a sex toy, Weasley."

Ron snorted, taken aback. "That's not ―"

"Actually, I thought it'd make a nice statement in the middle of my dining table. It would be an excellent conversation piece for dinner parties."

"For fuck's sake, Malfoy, I didn't ―"

A chuckle rumbled through from the other end of the line. There was that snark again. Merlin, it made Ron hot, his skin blooming from his collar up to his ears. He chewed his lip, pulling back the grin that threatened to spread across his face.

"I only meant ― was there a reason? That you'd picked mine?"

The line suddenly went quiet. Ron had to check his phone just to make sure the call hadn't dropped.

When Malfoy finally replied, his voice was soft, uncertain. "What would possess you to call and ask me that?"

Ron breathed in slowly, his hand tapping an incoherent rhythm on his thigh. "Well, I'm a bit pissed, to be honest," he admitted, still feeling the slight burn the Simison had left in his throat.

Malfoy didn't say anything more at first. The lamp above buzzed as the faucet continued to drip. Ron could hear the noise from the pub pressing up against the other side of the door.

Then, Malfoy said, "Maybe there was."

Ron felt his heart jump into his throat. "Was what?"

"A reason why I bought it," Malfoy said slowly, deliberately. "Figure it out, Weasel."

Oh, bloody hell. Ron took a shaky breath. Every nerve felt like it was on fire.

"And...how was it?" Ron heard himself ask as if from very far away.

Even over the din of the music beyond the bathroom door, he could hear Malfoy swallow. "It was good."

"Oh, ta." Ron chuckled despite himself.

"No, I mean...Bugger." It was nice hearing Malfoy so flustered. A rare occurrence, and one that the little fluttering pixie in Ron's stomach very much wanted to repeat. "It was brilliant, alright? Happy?"

Brilliant. The word tingled down Ron's spine. For some reason, he couldn't wipe the smile from his face. Bloody hell, was this really happening? He thought of fleeting insults thrown in the school corridors all those years ago ― then he thought of a night just a few months ago, the look in Malfoy's eyes as Ron told him about the shop.

"You wrote a song about me once, if I remember correctly," Ron said, feeling deliriously happy.

"I suppose I did." Malfoy sighed.

Ron's eyes flicked to the door, to the noise of the crowd beyond. "Why didn't you want me to know?"

"Oh, please, Weasley," Malfoy said bitterly. "Pick a reason."

"I know, but ―" Ron tried to argue, but Malfoy cut him off.

"You don't owe me anything. It would be incredibly unfair for me to expect you to be interested in return."

Ron supposed that was fair enough. He'd had similar feelings towards Malfoy until very recently.

"I would be, though. I mean ― I am."

Saying the words out loud gave them a weight Ron hadn't felt before. He let them roll off his tongue, flattened the tip of it along his lips as he thought about flashes of icy blond hair, high cheekbones, and long fingers swirling around the rim of a glass. He thought of the moment he'd finally realized Malfoy had been looking back.

"Oh." Malfoy paused, seeming surprised by that revelation. "Good to know."

Malfoy fidgeted. Ron listened intently, hearing the breath he released and the scrape of his fingers against his mobile.

"You wouldn't ― ah." Malfoy caught himself, and Ron waited for him to continue, his ears ringing. "Would you want to…?" Malfoy trailed off, finishing his thought with a scoff.

"Would I want to what ― oh."

Oh.

Ron swallowed hard. He wanted to believe Malfoy was asking him what he thought he was asking him, but even after everything, it was almost too good to be true. The long stretch of awkward silence on the other end told him he was right, though, and that made him jittery, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

"I could be reading too much into this," Malfoy muttered.

"No, no, definitely not. I mean." Ron licked his lips, his mouth suddenly feeling far too dry. "I just don't want you to think I expect this."

Malfoy made a sound, and Ron could practically feel him rolling his eyes on the other end of the line.

"Oh, so you don't ring up every person who buys a model of your cock and ask them how they enjoyed it?"

"What? No, of course not!" Ron stopped, realizing, and laughed at himself. "You're joking. That was a joke."

"Terribly clever, this one."

A sudden jiggling of the door handle made Ron jump, almost dropping his mobile in the process.

"Occupied!"

He fumbled with the phone, his heart thudding wildly. When he put it back to his ear, Malfoy was laughing. The sound made Ron feel weak in the knees.

"Where are you?" Malfoy asked, still snickering.

"In the loo at the Dragon's Head."

"Oh, of course." Malfoy sucked his teeth contemplatively. "Hang on. Is there anyone in there with you?"

Another frustrated turn of the door handle.

"It's a single."

"Good." Malfoy lowered his voice conspiratorially. "Do you want me to use it?"

Ron pressed his hand flat against the door, waiting until he heard the bloke give a huff and storm off. "Use what?"

"Your dildo, Weasley."

The silken drawl of Malfoy's voice spread like gooseflesh across Ron's skin. "Right now?" he asked incredulously, although he was already half hard at the thought.

"I could give you an exclusive product review. Unless you don't want to."

"No, I do!" Ron replied quickly, and Malfoy laughed again, making him blush.

"Eager, are we?"

"Yes." Ron passed a hand over his face, trying to laugh as well, but it came out shaky. Merlin, it had been all he could think about for the past few days. Still, he'd never imagined Malfoy would offer it outright. "Just didn't take you for the phone sex type."

Malfoy hummed. "You caught me in a randy mood. Now how do I ― ah, right."

Ron assumed he'd been put on speakerphone, as there was now an echo. He dug out his wand for a moment and cast a quick Silencio on the bathroom. It was a wonder how he had the brain power to spare, when all the blood in his body was suddenly rushing to his cock. He could hear Malfoy fumbling for something on the other end.

"Where are you?" Ron asked in return, trying to distract himself from the heady thrum of anticipation.

"In bed. Naked," Malfoy added with a hint of a smirk in his voice. Ron groaned, shutting his eyes against the image of Malfoy stretched out on soft sheets, hard and waiting for him. Merlin, had he been naked the whole time they were talking? Ron pressed the heel of his palm to the crotch of his jeans.

Malfoy went silent for a moment, until there was a faint intake of breath. His bed creaked distantly in the background.

Ron licked his lips, cupping his hand around the solid, hot line of his cock under his trousers. "Are you prepping yourself?"

"Of course." Malfoy breathed out steadily, the bed creaking again. "You're bigger than I thought you'd be. Although I'd always wondered."

Fucking hell. Ron arched against his hand. Was he really going to get his cock out in a pub toilet? The last shred of his resolve melted away when he heard Malfoy moan, low and guttural, a sound that shot straight through Ron, all the way to his toes. He imagined Malfoy laying back, his knees bent up, and slick fingers down between his legs, pressing in and out of his puckered hole. Ron was switching the phone to his left hand before he could give it a second thought. He flicked open the button on his jeans and pushed his pants down to hook under his balls, taking himself in hand.

Ron rolled his hand down over his length. Malfoy's breath hitched, and he cursed, the bed shifting with him. Ron caught his lip between his teeth, wondering how many fingers he had in him. He imagined himself leaning over Malfoy on the bed, licking a hot stripe along his neck as his hand worked him open, his thighs falling open as he settled between them.

"Fuck, I needed this," Malfoy breathed. Ron moaned, pulling his foreskin back and rubbing over the weeping head of his cock.

Malfoy muttered a Cleansing charm, and then a drawer was pulled roughly open nearby. Ron heard Malfoy pick up the phone, moving and setting it down again as he bounced on the bed, adjusting himself.

"Are you ―?" Ron wanted to ask, but he couldn't finish the thought, left hand gripping the phone hard as he tried to steady himself.

"Yes, gods."

Ron paused, listening as Malfoy shifted and panted on the other end. He didn't have to ask when it was fully in. He knew the moment Malfoy's breath faltered, the gasp he gave sending shivers down Ron's spine.

Malfoy huffed, the sound so loud to Ron's ears as the whole world funneled down to a point, to this moment as he listened to Malfoy move the toy inside of himself. He moaned, and Ron thought he could hear the squelch of lube on the other end of the line as it entered him.

"Talk to me, Weasley."

Malfoy sounded wrecked. It was enough to make Ron's toes curl just to hear it. It was almost too much to handle ― the idea of Draco Malfoy being thoroughly fucked out by a dildo modelled after Ron's own cock. Ron's head thunked back against the wall. His hand trembled a little as he began stroking himself again.

"Get on your knees for me," he said softly.

Malfoy swore. Ron heard him flip over, his panting breaths suddenly closer to the receiver. In his mind, he could see Malfoy bent over the bed, arse in the air and cheek pressed against the mattress, lips rosy and parted. He imagined himself knelt behind Malfoy, hands gripping his slender hips.

"There's, uh." Ron swallowed. "There's a self-shagging feature. If you want. The spell's ―"

"Oh, we're well acquainted."

"Fuck," Ron moaned. No way he was going to last like this. He rocked his hips, thrusting into the tight circle of his fist. Malfoy sounded like he was trying to collect himself, even as his voice broke on the last word. Ron couldn't begin to explain why that aroused him so much, but he didn't care, already speeding up his hand as it flew over his cock.

Malfoy cast the spell, and Ron felt his cry as the toy began to move on its own. The bed gave a jolt under Malfoy's weight. He gasped again, and Ron heard his fingers scrambling across the sheets.

Ron could almost see it. He imagined Malfoy's bowed back, his knees slipping and spreading apart, his toes curling. The bed creaked with each movement. A dildo of Ron's own making, Malfoy arching back onto it as it fucked him down onto the mattress. Merlin, he should've known Malfoy would take it so well, his eyes rolling back as he listened to the sounds Malfoy made as it thrust into him.

Ron closed his eyes and felt like he was sitting in the room, watching the whole show, watching a copy of his cock pound into Malfoy again and again. The pub outside the bathroom door fell away from him, and all he could focus on was Malfoy's voice and his hand on his own cock.

"Tell me how it feels," Ron choked out, wanting to hear it, see it, touch it, to watch Malfoy unravel under Ron's hands and cock, to capture each cry with his tongue.

Malfoy groaned. "So ― good ―"

"Tell me," Ron rasped again, thrusting his hips forward into his hand. "Tell me ― ah ― how good it is."

"It's so ―" Malfoy cried out, his hands skittering over the sheets. "So good ― so big ― I ―"

"Fucking hell, Malfoy."

At that point, Ron didn't know if he wanted to be watching the toy fuck Malfoy or if he wanted to take over for it. Was he really getting jealous of a dildo? He wished he was there. He wanted to tell Malfoy as much, but he couldn't manage it, instead moaning loudly as he felt his balls begin to draw up against him.

"Fuck, Weasley, you're gonna make me come," Malfoy whined, his posh accent slipping. 

Holy shit, and that was what did it. Ron made a gut-punched sound, his wrist flicking over the head of his cock. He was coming almost before he'd even realized. He barely had the presence of mind to do anything about it before the first spurt had dribbled onto the floor. He pushed off the wall and lent forward, pumping the remainder into the sink. He heard Malfoy swear, and Ron slumped back against the wall again, listening as he came apart with a shuddering cry.

The line went quiet once more. Ron rested his head on the tiles behind him, closing his eyes, holding his softening cock. For a long time, all he could hear was Malfoy breathing on the other end, his own heartbeat equally loud in his ears.

"I liked that. A lot."

Eloquent as always. Ron half expected for Malfoy to say just that, but instead he heard a very soft chuckle ― and then, quietly, "So did I."

Now that his heart rate was gradually slowing, the noise of the club outside wormed its way back in, reminding Ron of where he was, and what he'd just done. He shuffled his feet uncomfortably, glancing at the door when he heard a chatty couple pass by. How long had he been in there? Were the others looking for him?

Another person suddenly banged on the door, and Ron started, pushing off from the wall and quickly withdrawing his wand, disabling his Silencio and spelling himself clean.

"Right." He wanted to say more. Merlin, he did. But instead all he said just then was, "Well, I should probably, er, get back to it. You know?"

"Of course." There was rustling on the line, and then Ron was off speakerphone, Malfoy's voice close and intimate again in a way that made him shiver. "Have a good night, Weasley."

"You too, Malfoy."

Ron exited the bathroom, ignoring the irritated look the other patron gave him as he slipped past.

The entire way back to their table, he felt like he was floating on a cloud. Harry gave him an odd look when he slid into his seat, pulling the fresh pint they'd bought him an indeterminable amount of time ago towards him. Ron couldn't even begin to catch up with what they were all talking about, his mind drifting to thoughts of Malfoy, his mobile a leaden weight in his pocket as the night wound on.

[goulets]

Heartland

Chapter: 4/9 Pairing: Jason Todd/Dick Grayson Additional Characters: Roy Harper, Lian Harper, Barbara Gordon, Tim Drake Case Fic / Kid Fic a03 link

Lian looks proud.  “My first word was Daddy,” she tells Jason.  “I bet Dani’s will be, too, since she has two daddies.”

It takes Jason a moment to process what Lian is talking about, and when he realizes it, Roy is suppressing a huge peal of laughter and Dick’s eyes are so wide they’re about to pop right out of his skull.

***

(romina)

The view has changed.

When Romina Falcone was a child, she had stood in this very office at the right hand of her grandfather and looked out this very window, down into the sprawling urban jungle. She’d thought Gotham City was beautiful. Carmine had a story for every building, every street, every truck and car and pedestrian. The businessman who needed funds to keep his product line moving, soon to be in debt to their family. The district attorney’s office who wanted to cut fiscal corners on an exterior remodel, soon to enter into a contract with them. The gas station at a particularly desirable intersection, soon to be abandoned and auctioned off - the delivery van pulling up to the pump, soon to motivate the owners to abandon it. There was nothing, he said, that was out of reach for them. There was no one who could afford not to answer their call.

She sits in the seat he once sat in, her brother at her right hand, the city laid out below her, and she sees none of it.

“Romina? Are you listening?” her brother asks, angry.

“Obviously not,” she tells him. Who would she pick out of this crowd, if she was her grandfather? The woman in the suit, maybe - a journalist, ambitious and easily bought. The corner bistro, in the red for the third year in a row, about to be turned down for a loan extension. The restless pawn shop security guard, washed out from the police academy, in need of a better outlet to exert his will upon the public.

One by one, she thinks. One by one, they will all be within her grasp.

“ - drives me fuckin’ insane,” her brother is complaining, now, to their cousin Antoni and their new employee, Tiberius. “Never listens to a goddamn word I say - “

“Mario.” Romina turns in her chair to face him.

“What?” he demands.

She raises a dark eyebrow.

He straightens, and appears to compose himself. Much better. “Sorry, Ro. There’s a situation at City Hall that I’ve just been made aware of.”

When he doesn’t immediately go on, she feels a flash of irritation. “Well?”

“It seems that several records were accessed over the weekend - the logs were deleted, but our alert system was set off before they covered their tracks.” A dark look passes over his face. “They were looking into Uncle Vincenzo.”

Romina understands. Vincenzo Rizzuto, her mother’s half-brother, is the name they’ve been recruiting under, a name relatively yet-unknown in Gotham. They hid the real Vincenzo well - Romina had Antoni remove her uncle’s head and hands after he killed him, and since the man had been in the country illegally from Montreal, there should have been almost no way to identify his body. The city coroner’s office hadn’t managed it, but obviously, someone else did.

She taps her fingers against the desk. “How inconvenient.”

Tiberius looks curiously between them. “Think it was law enforcement?”

Antoni barks out a laugh. Romina has to agree - besides, she’s been given the distinct impression that Gotham PD is more than willing to welcome them back into the fold.

Unruffled by their scorn, Tiberius moves on. “Surveillance?”

“Plenty,” Mario says. A vein begins to throb in his forehead. “Doesn’t appear to be tampered with. There’s a camera pointed directly at the terminal that was accessed. Didn’t pick up shit.”

“Ah,” Romina nods. An invisible researcher. This explains Mario’s bad mood. “A meta-human, then.”

“Fuckers,” Antoni grumbles.

Tiberius glances around at them, faint amusement in his pale features. “Can I speak freely?”

“No,” Mario spits, but Romina holds up her hand.

“You may.”

Tiberius cracks his knuckles. “I know your family is more...traditional, let’s say, but you guys aren’t seeing the big picture. A lot’s changed since your grandfather was in charge, not just in Gotham. Meta-humans are a resource. A fucking gold mine. You can hire them, create them, sell them, buy them - as a commodity, they bring a higher return than almost anything else out there. And the scope of the industry is unlimited. The Russians are already in the process of cornering the market in Bludhaven. You could have shipping routes all the way out to - ”

He stops, suddenly, because Mario’s patience has expired. He advances heavily on Tiberius, clicking the safety off on his pistol. Romina wonders idly whether it would be more prudent to buy off or to threaten the city clerk to alter their records. It’s too late this time, but it would do well to have someone in City Hall working for them, in the future.

“How many times,” her brother seethes, “do we have to tell you, Tiberius. We’re taking the metas out. Your freak squad has been running this town for too goddamn long.”

“Hey, they’re not my freak squad,” Tiberius protests, putting his hands up. “I’m just pointing out a business opportunity, shit.”

Antoni looks between them, interested. Romina sighs.

“Enough,” she says coolly. “Mario, stand down. Tiberius, you’ve overstayed your welcome. If I want business propositions from you, you’ll know.”

Tiberius straightens his jacket, glaring around at them all dispassionately. He’ll not last much longer, she thinks.

“Antoni, when are the trucks coming in from Chicago?”

“Should be within the hour, boss.” He grins at her. Romina feels a wave of affection for her younger cousin, all bloodlust and mania. If their grandfather had known him, he would surely have adored him as well.

“Go meet them,” she instructs. “Take Tiberius with you. He should meet our cousin Nicola, since he’s so interested in the family’s shipping routes.”

Antoni grins wider. Perhaps Romina was too careless with her phrasing - if Antoni can tell she means to replace Tiberius with Nicola Viti, then he can probably guess it as well. No matter. With both cousins watching him, he won’t have an opportunity to betray them.

Once they leave, Mario comes to stand next to her, turning his gaze out the window to mirror hers.

“It looks different,” he says, sliding his Beretta back into its holster. “That’s what you were thinking about, isn’t it?”

“It is,” she replies. “But I find that the longer I look, the less different it seems.” And indeed, the view is becoming clearer. The run-down garage two blocks over, its owners tired and brittle and all too willing to sign away to new management. The half-finished housing project, abandoned by the city and looking for a new developer. The drug dealer squatting in its basement, hungry to ally himself with a steady supplier.

After a moment, Mario clears his throat. “We need to get rid of Tiberius. His ideals don’t align with ours.”

He’s right, of course. It won’t do to have one of their own sowing discord among the lower ranks. Romina has made one thing clear in their recruitment process - they’re not making a power play for Gotham’s meta-trafficking trade, not entering into competition with Scarecrow or Riddler or whichever absurd character is putting on a show to engage the Batman this week. They’re eliminating them. Meta-humans and theatrical villains might be an inescapable reality of their world, but Gotham belonged to their family first.

“I’m not ready for you and I to go public just yet,” she tells him. “We need Tiberius for one more thing, first.”

He doesn’t argue. “I hope it’s Susie. You’ve kept her waiting long enough.”

Romina scoffs. “She’s lucky that’s all I’m doing to her, after she disobeyed me. No, I’ll have him fetch her in a few more days. Do you think he’ll suspect the trap?”

“No,” Mario snorts. “He’s too convinced of his own importance. Didn’t even blink when I pulled my piece on him. He thinks he’ll wear you down, eventually.”

She nods, satisfied. “That was my read as well.”

“Is it really necessary, though, to risk alienating Susie?”

Romina purses her lips. “She was instructed to leave no survivors,” she says. “I served her an opportunity to settle a score up on a platter, and she repaid me by doing the exact opposite of what I asked. She knew there would be a cost.”

Mario looks skeptical. “Seriously, Ro, it was just a baby. It wouldn’t’ve even remembered its parents.”

“It doesn’t have to remember.” Romina thumbs over the scar on her wrist, the memento from all those years ago. “I don’t like giving orders to kill children, and I don’t expect Susie to like doing it, but it’s necessary to do. The Maronis left us alive, and where are they now? Scrambling in the shadows like rats, terrified to show their faces. You have to be prepared to hunt the children of your enemies, Mario, or they’ll grow up to hunt you.”

Mario grimaces. “It fucking creeps me out, when you talk like that.”

“It’s something our grandfather understood,” she tells him. “It’s practically colonial.”

“Jesus, Ro.”

She smirks. “Don’t like that comparison?”

“You know I don’t, but you’re right. Fuck,” he sighs. “Fine. I’m guessing you want to put Antoni on it?”

“It can wait, for now.” Antoni is reliable as a triggerman, with no limitations to speak of, but he does have a habit of going off-script, and Romina doesn’t want any more deviations in this particular directive. “As you said, it’s only a baby. It can’t pose a threat to us for some time yet.”

Mario exhales, relieved.

On to more pressing matters. “Do you know, I think it’s time we started recruiting in Bludhaven.”

“I agree,” he says, immediately. “The Russians have been struggling to gain a foothold since losing Intergang. It’s the perfect time to strike.”

“And once we deal with them, the entire canal will be ours,” she muses. “Start looking for someone to run the cement factory, will you? I want that housing project on 15th.”

Mario grins wolfishly. “You don’t think it’s too early for city contracts? We can’t take them out under Vincenzo’s name, you know.”

“No,” she agrees. “But it’s nearly time.”

The view is shifting, the longer she looks. The points of connection are starting to take shape, the lines of power that her grandfather once saw so clearly all leading back into the palm of his hand. Recruitment is child’s play - the people of this city are as tired of the Bats and the Jokers as she is. It’s more than a mission, it’s her birthright. Her father was too foolish and weak to recognize it, but Romina was born with her grandfather’s soul. Now, in his office, with the city laid out before her, she begins to understand how he must’ve felt, back then. She can almost taste it in the air. Gotham is ready to come back to them, and Romina is ready to seize it all.

***

(jason)

“I gotta say, I’m a little hurt,” Roy says, throwing a sideways look at Jason.

Jason’s ninety-nine percent sure he’s gonna follow up with something obnoxious, but he gives him an indulgent glance over his coffee cup all the same. “Yeah?”

“That you didn’t call me, you tool. Why wasn’t I the first person to know about this?! Instead I gotta hear it from Donna, who heard it from Wally, who heard it from Dick!! Not cool, dude!”

Jason feels a headache coming on. They’re out on the balcony outside Dick’s room, and it’s as spacious as a balcony for a single bedroom can be, but it’s starting to feel claustrophobic all the same. “It was need-to-know, okay? I was going to tell you, obviously. In case you didn’t notice, I’ve had a few other things on my mind.”

Roy isn’t having it. “You know how Wally knew? Because Dick called him to ask for advice. Because Wally is a father. Kind of like someone else you guys know, right?”

“I did call you,” Dick says from the balcony doorway. Dani is awake in his arms, and Roy’s five year old daughter Lian is at his side peering up at her in fascination. “You didn’t answer.”

Roy flushes slightly. “Well, without a text, how was I supposed to know why you were calling? I figured it was something like, world-ending-cavalry-calling thing. Can’t blame me for wanting to sit it out.”

Dick nods at Jason. “But you’d answer for him?”

“Hell yes I would. I happen to like him better, no offense,” Roy says, offense clearly intended. Dick rolls his eyes.

Jason doesn��t exactly know what went on between the two of them, except that it happened when he was dead. Roy hasn’t been forthcoming about it, and he’s never bothered asking Dick. Clearly it’s not completely water under the bridge just yet, but Dick looks happy enough to see him, and Roy didn’t even blink at letting Lian run off with him, so Jason thinks they must be starting to make up. Really, it’s the last thing he should be hoping for. Dealing with either of them one-on-one is bad enough. If they get chummy again, he’s done for.

“You’re shit out of luck, then,” he says to Roy, about half a second before he remembers the guy’s daughter is standing right there. “Crap. Uh, sorry, Lian.”

“Daddy says ‘shit’ all the time,” Lian replies, shaking her dark hair back from her face. “Shit is just poop, really, so it’s not such a bad word.”

Dick laughs. “So wise.”

“When can baby Dani learn to talk?”

“Um…” Dick looks at Jason, who shrugs helplessly. “Probably not for a while, I’m guessing. She’s only four months old, so she has a lot of milestones to hit before then.”

Lian tilts her head comically. “What’s mile-stones?”

“That’s just a name for important things that babies learn to do, sweetheart,” Roy tells her. “Things like rolling over, grabbing their feet, sitting up, and standing up. You hit all your milestones right on time.”

“Grabbing their feet? That’s silly, Daddy.”

“Hey, it’s an important motor skill, kiddo. Just as important as first words. You were a foot-grabbing prodigy, so I should know.”

Lian looks proud. “My first word was Daddy,” she tells Jason. “I bet Dani’s will be, too, since she has two daddies.”

It takes Jason a moment to process what Lian is talking about, and when he realizes it, Roy is suppressing a huge peal of laughter and Dick’s eyes are so wide they’re about to pop right out of his skull.

“We’re not - I’m not her dad, Lian. She’s not my kid.” Jason should probably just shut the hell up, since he doesn’t think Roy would be too happy about him explaining why Dani is in their care in the first place to his young, already somewhat traumatized daughter.

“We’re just taking care of her,” Dick adds, gently. Lian looks puzzled.

“So you’re babysitting her?”

“Exactly, yeah.”

“Hey pumpkin,” Roy says, reaching over and patting her on the cheek. “We’ll talk about this more later, okay? Let’s not ask too many questions to Dick and Jason, you know how silly Bats are about their secrets.”

“Oh, right,” Lian giggles, looking between them all conspiratorially. “Especially Mister Bruce, right, Daddy?”

Dick raises his eyebrows. “You told your daughter Batman’s secret ID?”

“You wanna fight about it?” Roy asks. His tone is teasing, but there’s a hint of real challenge in his eyes.

Lian looks confused, and Jason takes pity on her. “Guys, knock it off.” He shoves Roy’s shoulder lightly, and shoots a hard look at Dick. “Not in front of the kids, come on.”

Dani, fortunately, diffuses the tension by spitting up in a truly spectacular fashion all over her onesie and Dick’s arm.

Roy bursts out laughing. “Okay, I gotta say, I do not miss that.”

“Did she just barf?” Lian looks horrified.

“No, this is something babies do a lot,” Dick reassures her. “Usually it puts her in a much better mood when she does it, so it’s actually a good thing.”

“Okay…” Lian says uncertainly. “It’s kind of gross.”

“Kind of,” Dick grins. “I’ll just go change her, and, um, wash up.”

“Can I help? Can I pick out her clothes?” Lian looks at Roy excitedly.

“Sure, you’ll be a lot better at picking them out than me,” Dick beams back at her. “Be right back, guys.”

Once they’re out of earshot, Roy turns to Jason. “I didn’t tell her Batman’s secret ID, just so you know. He told her himself a couple years ago, after the attack on Star City. We were all up in the Watchtower, and he didn’t have his cowl...it was such a crazy day, I honestly never thought she’d remember it.”

Jason nods peaceably. “I don’t really give a shit, to tell you the truth.” It’s not quite the truth, actually, but hopefully Roy won’t call him on it.

“Just saying. Anyways, Jaybird, what the hell is going on with you and Dick? Are you fucking?”

Jason almost spits out his coffee. “What?”

“Is it really that weird of a question? You’re living here all of a sudden, raising a baby together, I mean.” Roy tilts his head, looking remarkably like his daughter. “Okay, I guess you’re not fucking.”

“We’re not anything,” Jason says, more harshly than he means to. “Jesus Christ.”

Roy gives him a look of dawning comprehension, which Jason doesn’t like at all. “I see.”

“Do you.” Jason narrows his eyes. “Well, fucking don’t.”

“All right, all right. I’ll cut you a break since I remember what it’s like to be up to your eyeballs in diapers and sleep deprived as hell and being expected to deal with your asshole friends like everything’s normal.” He leans forward to pour more coffee in Jason’s mug. “Talk to me about the kid, then. You said she’s not sleeping very well?”

Jason shakes his head. “She was sleeping great until this past week, I have no idea what changed. Every single noise in the room wakes her up. And if she catches sight of me, it’s all over. She just cries and cries until I pick her up, and she wakes up again if I try to put her down.”

“Damn,” Roy says sympathetically.

“I haven’t gone out in four nights,” Jason tells him, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “Dick’s got Russians to deal with in ‘Haven, so he hasn’t been able to take a night off, and I can’t…I just can’t leave her. Doesn’t seem right.”

“You shouldn’t, anyways, if your head’s back here,” Roy says. “Learned that one the hard way.”

“I don’t know what the fuck to do, then. It’s not a fever, she’s not hungry, or wet, she just won’t sleep.”

Roy leans forward. “Listen. This is actually a totally normal, completely awful thing called a ‘sleep regression’ that nobody fucking tells you about before you have a kid. They go through them every couple months, usually before hitting a major milestone. It’s fucked, but it’ll pass, I promise.”

Jason stares at him in surprise.

“What? I know things, fuck you.”

Jason kicks him lightly under the table. Not the best demonstration of thankfulness he could’ve come up with, but it’s all he’s got. “So what do I do, until it passes? Just keep holding her all the time?”

“You could try, but honestly, I think that’ll just make it worse. Do you have a white noise machine?”

“Yeah.”

“Have you tried really cranking that sucker up?”

“Yep.”

“Have you tried putting her in the swing?”

Jason frowns. “They’re not supposed to sleep in there.”

“What, really? Says who?” Roy looks incredulous.

“The fucking American Pediatric Association, that’s who. It says so right on the box. It’s a suffocation hazard.”

Roy’s forehead creases with worry. “No shit? Damn, no one told me about that. I used to put Lian to sleep in that thing all the time when nothing else was working.”

Jason spreads his hands. “Any other ideas?”

“Yeah, actually. Babies have REM cycles, you know, they’re just different from ours. When they’re in a sleep regression, you gotta wait until they’re deeply asleep to put them down. Give it, like, ten extra minutes after she falls asleep.”

“I can do that,” Jason agrees. “Doesn’t do me a lot of good, though, if she wakes up as soon as I fucking cough or unload my gun.”

“Oh yeah?” Roy cocks an eyebrow. “We’re unloading rubber bullets now?”

Jason kicks him again. “Shut up.”

“Shit, Jay. I just can’t believe Dickie is okay with it.”

Jason can’t quite believe it either. He keeps the loaded gun hidden in a shoulder holster under his jacket, but he’s not stupid enough to think that Dick hasn’t noticed.

Roy stretches his arms behind his head. “Sure nothing’s going on between you two?”

“Roy, I’m not having this conversation,” Jason says.

Roy grins. Jason hates that grin. “Alright. So, if she always wakes up when you’re in the room, don’t be in the room. Get a monitor and sleep in Dick’s room. Problem solved.”

Jason takes a long drink of coffee, trying to calm the sudden hammering in his pulse. “Yeah, that’s not fucking happening.”

“Why? If there’s nothing going on between you…”

“Roy,” Jason growls.

“Daddy, look! I helped baby Dani get dressed!”

They both turn to look at Lian in the doorway, standing in a superhero pose with her hands planted on her hips. “Ta-da!” she announces, leaping aside with a flourish. Dick appears behind her, lips pressed together like he’s trying hard not to laugh, Dani presented forward in his arms in a little red dress, red bloomers, and little red socks with white hearts. A little red bow is just visible among her tufts of black hair, and Jason’s heart throbs violently in his chest.

“Wow, sweetie!” Roy opens his arms and gives her a big hug. “Red, huh?”

“I think it’s her favorite color,” Lian says, shyly glancing at Jason. “It’s mine, too.”

Jason swallows. “Where the hell did that dress even come from?” He doesn’t know why he bothers asking, he doesn’t have a clue where any of Dani’s clothes come from. They seem to just materialize in her drawers, and he could probably pinpoint who purchased each item if he laid them all out and put his mind to it, but he finds it’s much easier just not to think about it.

“I don’t remember who got this one, actually.” Dick peeks at the tag. “It’s Ralph Lauren. Maybe Helena?”

“Hey Dick, I was just spitballing ideas with Jason,” Roy says, suddenly. Jason goes to kick him again, but damnit, he’s still holding Lian. Using his own kid as a shield, the fucker.

Dick looks up from bouncing Dani, his eyes widening innocently. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, about your kid’s sleep issues. Jay said she’s startling easily, once she’s down.”

Dick looks at Jason apologetically. “It’s been rough,” he admits. “Sorry, I know you haven’t gotten much sleep either.”

“Apparently it’s totally normal,” Jason says quickly, glaring at Roy. “Roy says it’ll pass in no time. Don’t worry about me.”

“I was suggesting, actually, that she might have an easier time if Jason wasn’t clattering around all the time and waking her up,” Roy goes on, pulling Lian up into his lap. Jason is going to kill him. “You’ve got room, right, Dick? Makes more sense for you two to share so she can get some peace and quiet.”

“Oh!” Dick spares Jason a fleeting glance. “That does make sense...we have the video monitor, after all. You are kind of loud, when you take off your armor.”

Jason crosses his arms. Everyone’s a fucking critic. “Fine. I’ll sleep on the floor, whatever.”

Dick makes a face. “Jason…”

Roy gives him an exasperated look. “What is this, cooties? Are you twelve?”

Lian tugs at his sleeve. “What’s cooties?”

“It’s what Jason’s scared of getting if he sleeps in the same bed as Dick, sweetheart. It’s super silly.”

Dani has apparently had enough of being held on display like a doll, and fusses loudly, kicking out towards Jason and curling both hands up toward her face. Jason can tell she’s a few seconds from a full meltdown - they’ve been coming on faster and faster, since this whole “sleep regression” started. He’s on his feet in a heartbeat, and Dick passes her over without a word. It’s a little terrifying how used to this they both are, Jason thinks as he brings Dani up to his chest. She’s already bigger than the tiny ten-pound bundle that had turned up at the Manor just a few weeks ago, and she’s outgrown the first sets of pajamas they’d put her in. He pats her back soothingly, feels the patch of drool on his shirt that indicates she’s stuffed her fingers in her mouth again. Normally, he’d drop a kiss on her head, but he finds himself reluctant to do so in front of Roy. He doesn’t want Roy to read anything into it - he’s already given away too much during this visit.

“Awww, she’s so cute,” Lian giggles, leaning against her dad. “I wish I could hold her, Daddy.”

“Maybe next time, honey. Baby Dani just wants her grown-up right now. You know how that feels, don’t you?”

Lian nods, looking up at Jason. “Yeah.”

Jason feels ridiculously exposed, under their twin gazes. If it wasn’t for Dani, he’d have jumped over the railing already.

“What are you guys up to for the rest of the day?” Dick asks, rescuing him from their unnerving combined perception.

Roy gives his daughter a nudge. “What are we doing, pumpkin?��

Lian lights up. “We’re going to see Donna!”

“Her favorite,” Roy confirms, grinning down at her. “They’re having a girl’s night, apparently. I’m not invited.”

“Maybe when Dani is bigger, she can come to a girls night with us,” Lian suggests wistfully. Dick looks sad, and Jason doesn’t have the heart to tell her that’s never going to happen.

“Hey, wouldn’t that be fun.” Roy ruffles her hair playfully. “You’d have to share Donna, though.”

Lian pulls back to give him a reproachful look. “I know how to share, Daddy.”

“Sheesh, okay. Anyways, I’ll be around, if either of you needs a wingman,” Roy says, looking between Dick and Jason hopefully.

“I’m staying in,” Dick says. Jason blinks, this is news to him. “Russians are laying low, and no one’s sprung our Falcone cousin from jail yet, shockingly. I know you’re going stir-crazy, so I’ll stay with her tonight.”

Jason feels a surge of warmth towards Dick. He is going nuts, and not just from sleep deprivation. It’ll do him a world of good to get out and get some real exercise, check on all his favorites in the neighborhood and put the fear of the Red Hood back into all the local dirtbags. Tim’s been doing a more than decent job on keeping him updated, and Jason’s grateful, but there’s something to be said for good old fashioned violence when it comes to keeping his people in line. Jason’s itching for it - he hasn’t been back in the field properly for way too long.

“You up for it, Jaybird?” Roy asks. His eyes are practically sparkling - Jason can already feel the beginnings of regret. “It’s been a minute since we teamed up.”

Jason sighs out heavily. “Yeah, okay.”

“Don’t get too excited,” Roy laughs. “It’ll be fun! I can impart more sagely parenting advice, you can, um - ” he cover’s Lian’s ears “ - b-a-s-h some s-k-u-l-l-s, it’ll be real therapeutic.”

Lian swats at his hands. “Daddy.”

Jason looks at Dick. “You sure B’s okay with you taking a night off?”

“I’ll make him okay with it,” Dick says grimly. “Besides, I miss her.”

God help him, Jason’s going to miss her too, when he’s out for the evening. Not enough to want to stay in, but damn close.

He looks down at her, dozing lightly against his chest, one round cheek pressed flat, the other drooping onto her curled up shoulder. An image flits through his mind - Dani, older, her tufts of hair grown out long like Lian’s, a wide, toothy smile on her face and her big brown eyes crinkled up at Jason. Calling to him, reaching for him. Daddy. It feels like a bullet piercing his heart, but he can’t stop imagining it. Can’t stop imagining her laughter, the solid feeling of her body in his arms…and someone else next to him, strong hands held out to catch hers, sweetheart sounding out in a voice he’s gravitated toward since he was thirteen years old -

“Jason? You having gas or something?” Roy sounds half amused, half concerned.

Fuck. “Headache,” Jason manages, shoving the intrusive images as far back into his subconscious as he can. God, does he know how to torture himself.

“Well, get rid of it. Imagine how embarrassing it’d be if you got k-i-l-l-e-d by some punk in the Bowery because you were off your game.”

Jason shrugs. “You’d avenge me.”

Roy laughs. “Damn right I would. I’d have to fight Dick here for the honor.”

“To get back at some Bowery punk? Nah, Dickie wouldn’t bother.”

Dick rolls his eyes, but his mouth is twisted with humor. “Hey, I might, depending on how embarrassing your demise was.”

Roy claps his hands. “See, if that’s not love, I don’t know what is.”

Dick goes pink, but he looks happy, at least. Jason imagines strangling Roy, to avoid anything revealing coming out of his mouth.

“I’d better go tell little D he’s got my patrol tonight,” Dick says, after a mildly suffocating moment of silence. “I’ll stick a bottle in the warmer for when she wakes up.”

“You are the worst person alive,” Jason tells Roy, once Dick is gone. “The worst. I literally don’t know why we’re friends.”

“Jason’s joking, sweet pea,” Roy grins at Lian.

Lian huffs dramatically. “I know that, Daddy.”

How the hell Roy Harper created such a great kid, Jason will never know. “What are you and Donna doing for your girl’s night?” he asks her, rocking Dani gently.

“So many fun things,” she tells him seriously. “I have a new Lego set, so we’re gonna build that, and then maybe we’ll play princess school? Or animal rescue school, or maybe both...and we’ll definitely watch a movie! And eat popcorn, of course.”

“Of course,” Jason nods.

She smiles at him, her nose scrunching adorably. “What are you and my daddy doing for your boy’s night?”

Jason makes eye contact with Roy. “Well, I doubt we’re gonna have as much fun as you.”

“No,” Roy agrees, tweaking her nose. “I think we’ll still have a pretty good time, though.”

***

Jason’s prepared for the worst, when they arrive in Crime Alley. He’s expecting his safe house to be trashed by squatters, his civilian apartment to be robbed, and all the local hot spots to be generally on fire. Well. Maybe not on fire, it does seem like Tim’s been doing a pretty good job covering for him. But still, he’s not expecting to roll into his territory and find it…quiet.

Roy takes to the rooftops, and Jason goes to the first busy street corner he sees. “Hey, Ginger,” he calls, jogging up to a working girl he’s got a friendly rapport with. “How’s it going?”

Ginger looks surprised to see him, but not unhappy. “You finally remember your address, Hood?”

“Doesn’t look like I needed to, though,” Jason remarks, glancing around. “Your girls are all good? Any problems that require my attention?”

“Aren’t you sweet.” Ginger looks over his shoulder, as though expecting someone to be there. “No Red Robin tonight? Damn.”

Wow, so that’s how it is. Jason’s already chopped liver. “Ouch,” he says in mock offense. “You know, it was me who told him which blocks to keep an eye on in the first place.”

“You can take that white knight shit straight back to wherever you’ve been hiding out, honey.” Ginger sounds unimpressed. He swears he was more intimidating a few weeks ago. She gives him a meaningful look and makes a shooing motion with her wrist. “It’s good to know you’re still in one piece, baby. Now run along, before you scare off all my customers.”

Taking the hint, Jason moves down the block to his favorite bar, a hideous dive run by a neighborhood relic called Mac Deveroux. Back when Jason was a kid, Mac had frequently paid him to make deliveries, taking alcohol and sometimes food to his customers who weren’t in a position to come and get it themselves. Most of the deliveries were superfluous errands that Mac could just as easily have run himself, but he liked Jason’s observational skills, and the real value of the trip was the gossip Jason was able to pick up along the way. Jason has no idea if Mac remembers him - it’s possible he had a dozen kids on his unofficial payroll, it’s equally possible that the years and the drinking have written Jason’s existence out of his mind. But the man is just as congenial and just as all-knowing about everyone’s business as he’s always been, so Jason makes it a habit to visit him and trade information.

“Hey, Mac,” he calls, pulling off his helmet and sliding into a seat at the end of the bar. He doesn’t always order a drink when he comes here, and he’s not planning on it tonight, but Mac seems to prefer talking to him in just the domino. “Been a minute.”

It’s early, so the place is still mostly deserted, except for a handful of local drunks in various stages of stupor. Mac looks startled for half a moment, then pulls his ballcap down and goes back to being inscrutable. “Glad to see you alive and well, Red.”

Why is everyone so surprised to see him? He’s only been off patrol for a week or so, and he was checking in every few days before that. “Some reason I shouldn’t be?”

Mac side-eyes him suspiciously. “Not especially. People talk. That friend of yours - Red Robin - stupid fucking name, by the way - he’s okay too?”

Jason picks up his helmet and switches the comm on. “Red Robin, Red Hood checking in. Are you dead or injured?”

Tim’s voice comes through almost immediately, annoyed. “Uh, no?”

Jason switches it back off. “Yep, still kicking. Pretty sure Batman hasn’t bit it either, but the night is young. What’s with the sudden concern for my well-being?”

Mac shakes his head. “Folks been talking lately, that’s all. Lots of shit about taking down the Bat, all the rest of the capes in Gotham. Can’t blame me for wondering.”

“People around here are always running their mouths,” Jason says dismissively. “Half the time they tell me about it to my face. Since when are you sweating shit like that?”

“Since it started seeming like more than just talk,” Mac says, serious. “I mean it, Red. You ought to watch yourself out there. And be careful who you talk to, too. I appreciate all you done for me, but it’ll be better if I don’t see you in my bar all too often. You need to chat, you’re better off coming in the back.”

Jason recalls how quickly Ginger had hurried him away, and feels his blood run hot with anger. So these fuckers think they can come onto his turf and threaten his people? They’re gonna be needing more than new kneecaps by the time he’s through with them.

He cracks his knuckles. “Right. Let’s go to the back, then.”

Mac meets him next to a stack of boxes behind his delivery door. He pulls out a joint and starts patting his pockets down, looking for a lighter.

“Here.” Jason fishes one out from his coat pocket, tosses it to him. Not like he’s lighting up much of anything these days.

“Appreciate you, man,” Mac says, catching it. “You want?”

Jason shakes his head briefly.

Mac nods, as though he expected Jason to decline. He exhales a stream of smoke. “Gives me a reason to be back here, you know.”

“Sure.” Jason leans cautiously against one of the stacks of boxes. “So, what’s all this chatter that’s got you and everyone else so spooked?”

“Hmm.” Mac takes another long drag off his joint. “Just a few too many mouths telling the same story in my bar, I’d say. I’m used to hearing guys talk big about taking you out. But this is different, they’re all telling the same story about somebody else taking you out. Taking all the Bat folks out, and the Jokers and the Scarecrow gang too. Saying it’s gonna be open season on all the capes and metas in Gotham, that sorta thing.”

Jason really doesn’t like the sound of any of this. “Who’s supposed to be taking us all out, exactly?”

“That’s the thing about it. No one wants to say, I don’t think most of ‘em even know. You heard about that bloodbath down by the docks, a month back?”

Jason tenses. “Uh-huh.”

Mac looks shrewd, suddenly. “You know who did it?”

Jason can tell from his tone that he doesn’t know, but that he’s dying to. “If someone like you hasn’t found out yet, Mac, I think it’s because certain people want it that way. Just like certain people don’t want you talking to me.”

“‘Certain people’ can kiss my ass,” Mac grumbles.

“Here’s a question, totally unrelated,” Jason says. “Does the name ‘Romina Falcone’ mean anything to you?”

Mac stares at him, dumbfounded. “No....Romina? Mario Falcone’s little girl?”

Jason shrugs one shoulder, trying to appear casual. “You heard anything about her being back in town?”

“No…she’s been gone from Gotham for years. Sad story, really. You know it?” Jason does, but since this is a casual inquiry, he motions for Mac to go on. “Her daddy was Carmine Falcone’s son, a real straight-shooting type, good student, honest, the whole nine yards. Never touched the family business.” Another long inhale off the dwindling joint. “When Falcone first went to prison, gotta be over twenty-five years ago now, the Maroni family took over. Mario wouldn’t throw in with them, so they killed him and his wife. The kids, Mario Jr. and Romina, went to live with relatives in Chicago, last I heard.”

A mob orphan, Jason thinks, just like Dani. Except that Romina and her brother hadn’t gone to live with just any relatives - they’d gone to live with the Viti family, headed by none other than Carmine Falcone’s bloodthirsty sister. “So, no one’s heard from her since then?”

“No one heard from her before then, either. She couldn’t’ve been more than eight or nine when all that shit went down,” Mac says doubtfully. “You sure your intel’s good?”

Jason’s deep in thought, suddenly. “Didn’t say anything about intel,” he tells Mac. “Just asking a question. I gotta go, though. Okay if I slip out the door here?”

Mac gestures obligingly. “Hey, be my guest. I’m gonna do myself a favor and forget this whole conversation now.”

Jason snorts. “Good idea. See you around, Mac.”

“Yeah, yeah. Watch your back out there, kid.”

Jason’s out the door before Mac’s parting words echo back to him. Watch your back out there - what was he, eleven? Twelve, the last time he heard those words?

Maybe it’s a coincidence. Or, maybe Mac Deveroux has a better memory than Jason gives him credit for.

He puts his helmet back on. “Arsenal, status report.”

“All good over here, Hoodster,” Roy replies brightly. “Knocked out a handful of drunk and disorderlies outside a Buffalo Wild Wings just now. Didn’t realize the Bowery was so gentrified already.”

Ugh. “Not all of it is,” Jason sighs. “But, yeah. Sure isn’t how it used to be, over there.”

“No kidding. I’m watching this girl steal a souped-up Camero right now. Ran the plates, and based on the owner’s resume, I might let her get away with it.”

Jason snorts out a laugh. “Works for me. I’ll come meet you over there, just give me ten.”

He’s barely made it two blocks when Oracle’s voice sounds in his ear, her tone making him snap to attention at once. “Hood, we have a situation.”

He stops still on a dingy government housing rooftop. “Go ahead, O.”

“It seems Susie Falcone was sprung from jail earlier today - we missed it because her release was processed under another name, but I have the video feed, and it’s definitely her.”

Oh, fucking finally. Jason was starting to think he wouldn’t have a chance to get any real exercise tonight. “You got a name for me?”

“Guy by the name of Tiberius. Albanian, according to Red Robin. I’m running his face through Interpol, but it takes time.”

Jason hops onto a nearby fire escape and swings up to the roof of an office building to get a better vantage point towards the harbor. “Is B gonna crap himself if I take the lead on this?”

Barbara’s quiet for a moment. “Do you care?”

Jason flexes his hand over the grip of the gun strapped to his thigh. “I mean, no,” he starts to say, knowing as soon as the words are out of his mouth that it’s not entirely true. “Just...it’ll be a pain in the ass if I have to fight a whole fucking mafia, plus him, that’s all.”

Oh, incredibly convincing. Jason’s surprised he doesn’t hear her laughing down the line.

“I think you know how to avoid his ire,” Barbara says. “You’re closest, so I’m putting you on it.”

“Okay. Thanks,” Jason adds, feeling more like an idiot by the second. Forget Dick, talking to Barbara always makes him feel about twelve fucking years old. At least she’s not openly judgmental about it. “Hey, Oracle. One last thing.”

“Oh? I’m listening.”

“Can you do some digging into the Viti family? I feel like there’s gotta be a reason Romina came back to Gotham now, when she could’ve made a play for the city years ago. If she’s been in Chicago all this time, it’s probably something to do with them.”

“…Yes,” Barbara says, slowly. Jason hears a flurry of typing. “Since they trade over state lines, that data will be with the Feds…it’ll take me a little while, I’ve got my hands full with some more urgent things right now. But it’s a good idea, Hood. You’ll know more as soon as I do.”

“Okay,” Jason agrees. “Thanks,” he adds, lamely.

She lets out a short huff of amusement, and Jason’s past self cringes at him in embarrassment. “Oracle out.”

Right. Tiberius. Jason’s been waiting for a chance to take on this ostentatiously-named asshole. From his own observations that night with Dick, and from Tim’s reports, the guy is a particularly sleazy type of hired muscle. Fantastic. Jason needs the workout.

He gives himself a shake, and then takes off towards the police impound lot. Within ten minutes, he’s found a suitable bike and is on his way to the East End, changing comm channels in his helmet to call Roy. “Arsenal, are you good to finish up my patrol? I got a lead on somebody in this mob case I need to handle.”

“Wow, Hood. And here I thought we were having a boy’s night.”

“Hey, if nothing’s going on over there, you’re welcome to join.”

“Yeah? Hey asshole, stay down,” he snarls. “Maybe I’ll meet you after I finish up.”

Jason hears a moan and a thud on Roy’s end. “Anybody interesting?”

“Just some model citizen I found trying to drag a passed-out woman into his car. Said she was his girlfriend, but he neglected to mention she dumped his ass two months ago.”

“Break his legs,” Jason proposes, feeling a mild rage rising in his chest.

“Red Hood says I should break your legs,” Roy tells the guy. “It’s not really my style, but I’m just temping over here. You’d better leave town, because if he finds you doing this shit again, you’re gonna wish I took him up on it.”

Please, man, Jason hears in the background. He hadn’t honestly expected Roy to take his suggestion. Turning onto a side street, he hears an alarm start to go off somewhere close by. Robbery, sounds like. Exactly what he’s looking for.

“Alright, I’m starting my manhunt,” he says to Roy. “You’ve got my coordinates if you need to find me.”

Roy makes some kind of hooting sound that Jason takes to be acknowledgment. “Make me proud.”

Jason kills the bike in an alley and parks it under a staircase, slipping a loop of electrified wire over the handlebars. Easy enough to disarm, but he’s not planning to be gone long. The store being robbed is a liquor store, and the goons smashing it up aren’t criminals so hardened that they’ll take any effort on his part to crack. He storms in the front, grabs the first guy, and throws him over the counter. The second pulls a gun on him - he shoots it out of his hand a split second later, then fires three more shots into a glass case of upscale liquor, to fairly spectacular effect. The remaining guys all hit the floor, visibly terrified. Jason holsters his gun.

“Hope you guys don’t mind me crashing this little party you’re having,” he calls, kicking the fallen gun to the side. “I need to find a guy by the name of Tiberius. First one to talk gets to walk away.”

They all goggle at him. “Did he say Tiberius?” one of them whispers.

“We don’t know anybody called that,” the one he tossed behind the counter says.

Jason clicks his tongue. “Wrong answer.” He fires a rubber bullet into the guy’s shoulder, and he goes down. By the time they realize it’s not a live round, he’ll be in the wind.

He holsters the gun again, and turns his attention on the one he’d disarmed. “Your turn.”

“We don’t know where he is,” the guy says quickly. “I only met the guy once. He doesn’t give us orders.”

“Who does he give orders to,” Jason counters, advancing on him menacingly.

“Dealers, mostly? My cousin Zion reports to him, he slings down by the Wharfside Pool Hall. Swear to God, man, I haven’t seen Tiberius since he moved us all off the docks.”

Jason looks around at the wreckage of the store, realizing something. “You guys aren’t robbing this place, are you.”

They don’t say anything. Jason doesn’t need them to - their silence is confirmation enough. They’ve been tasked by Romina and her lackeys to trash this place and force the owners to sell. And now he’s helped them do it. Fuck, this is why he hates mob cases.

Nothing to be done about it now. Once he puts a bullet in Romina’s skull, maybe he can come back and see that these people get their store back. First, he’s gotta find her.

“Be seeing you, gentlemen,” he says, tossing out a couple smoke pellets. “Don’t expect it to be as painless next time.”

It’s a quick ride to the Wharfside Pool Hall, and Oracle sends him a photo of Zion Lee on the way. He finds him immediately, parked on the corner by the emergency exit. It’s a short conversation. Zion doesn’t know where to find Tiberius either, but he does tell Jason where to find his supplier, and once Jason takes a look at the supplier’s rap sheet, he decides there’s not going to be a conversation at all. Kidnapping, trafficking, sexual battery - hell, if Jason can’t find Tiberius tonight, at least he can take his aggression out on this piece of garbage.

He roars up to the supplier’s house on the stolen bike and throws a smoke bomb through the window, the rush of impending violence like fire in his veins. Then, as luck would have it, he sees a familiar muscular figure rushing out the back door towards a Jaguar that’s parked in the shadows at the end of a driveway.

Tiberius, in the flesh. Looks like Jason’s date with this supplier will have to be postponed.

Quickly, he considers his options. The adrenaline junkie in him is tempted by the prospect of a good old-fashioned car chase, but this area is just a bit too residential for him to be strictly comfortable with it. Too bad. He lets Tiberius get to the end of the driveway, and then he shoots out the Jag’s tires. Tiberius returns fire immediately, which, again, is not the most desirable outcome in a residential neighborhood. Jason aims a shot at his firing hand, but the guy is already ducked down and reloading.

Fine. Jason will just have to throw something bigger at him, he supposes. He revs the bike’s engine, kicks off and guns it towards the Jaguar, bailing off to the side when Tiberius stands up to shoot at him some more. The bike keeps going, propelled by momentum, and crashes beautifully into the driver's side of the Jag, knocking Tiberius hard to the pavement when the open door that he’s been using as a shield swings violently sideways with the rest of the car.

He doesn’t stay down, of course. Before the impact is even finished reverberating through both vehicles, he’s hopping back up, more nimbly than Jason would’ve expected, given his size, and taken off running down the street. Jason pushes himself up and hightails after him, the thrill of the hunt making him practically giddy, his heart accelerating with the pace of his boots against the concrete.

Damn, but it feels good to exert himself. Jason’s been cooped up for too fucking long. Tiberius is seriously in shape, and fast, almost as fast as Dick, too fast for Jason to catch without playing dirty. He’s running too hard to aim with any real accuracy at a moving target, but he squeezes off a half dozen shots at the car windows Tiberius is running past, and the resulting spray of breakaway glass slows him just enough that Jason is able to launch a kick at the back of his knees and tackle him to the ground. They tussle - Tiberius pulls a knife and manages to wedge the blade under Jason’s chestplate, but luckily the tip of it catches on the kevlar, and Jason is able to knock it away before it does any real damage. He headbutts Tiberius savagely, breaking his nose and sending him sprawling out over the basement landing of a boarded-up tattoo parlor.

Before Jason can get up and draw his weapon, Tiberius is on him again, fists coming in like hammer blows and seeking out all the soft spots of his suit with frankly impressive accuracy. Jason’s pulse is pounding in his ears, he’s always gotten a kick out of fighting guys that are bigger than him - though, admittedly, most guys he went up against as Robin met that qualification. Fighting Tiberius is a little nostalgic, in that sense.

How did he used to do it? Bruce had taught him all the fastest ways to incapacitate someone, and Jason’s lived enough by now that he can admit that more often than not, Bruce’s way works just fine. Maybe with a few embellishments, depending on the perp. He’d need better footing, but he could do that here. He could snap Tiberius’s collarbone with the flat of his hand, knee him in the balls, and finish him off with a punch to the throat. But before Bruce, before he’d had his street fighting skills polished and streamlined, a younger, scrappier Jason would’ve had a different strategy. Back then he’d had to be patient, had to last out his enemies and watch for the moment they overextended themselves, the moment they let their defenses slip because they were sure they had him. A school bully, taking his attention off Jason long enough to call to his friends. His mother’s heroin dealer, pausing at the top of the long brick staircase to tell Jason not to bother checking on her. Batman, parking the Batmobile in an alley and just leaving it there.

Nostalgia wins, and Jason waits. He takes the punches and waits until Tiberius gets cocky, having landed a few well-placed blows to his ribs under the thickest parts of his armor. He rears up over Jason, sneering, hand going to Jason’s throat, arm fully extended and vulnerable - and Jason moves. He rocks up into a crouch, catches Tiberius’s wrist in his hand and wrenches, shattering the bones in it easily and dislocating his shoulder in the process. Within a couple of seconds, they’re back on their feet, but Tiberius is unsteady, his breathing thick and labored, and Jason takes the opportunity to kick him square in the chest, sending him crashing down into the walk-out landing and through the building’s flimsy door.

Then he follows Tiberius into the basement, and before he can dodge, a bullet catches him right in the thigh. Shit. He’d assumed the gun had been lost back at the car, but he hadn’t actually checked - an embarrassingly rookie mistake, Jesus. His armor stops it, but it still hurts like a motherfucker. “Real cute,” he snarls, stomping on his opponent’s broken wrist and picking up the gun. He debates shooting him in a few non-lethal places, but Dick’s face suddenly pops into his head, and then Dani’s, and the worst of his anger ebbs away. He empties the clip instead, pocketing the gun. “Now that that’s out of the way, you and me, we’ve got a few things to discuss.”

“Fuck you,” Tiberius seethes, curled up and clutching his wrist in pain. There’s blood all over his face, dripping onto the floor.

“Better men than you have tried, Tiberius.” Jason rubs his hands together. “Here, I’ll make it easier for you. I know you’re working for Romina Falcone. I know she’s back in Gotham, and I know she ordered the hits on your old boss, and most of your old coworkers. I know you sprung her cousin Susie out of jail earlier today, and I know she’s got you running the drug trade down here. So don’t bother telling me any of that shit. I just want to know two things: what her endgame is, and where I can find her.” He steps on Tiberius’s knee, puts just enough pressure to make him cry out. “Talk. Now.”

“Get the fuck off me,” Tiberius gasps, kicking out uselessly with his other leg. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, just let me up.”

Jason stands back, ready to kneecap the guy permanently if he goes on the offensive again.

Tiberius sits up, panting. “Shit. Fuck, I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming.”

“Hood, I lost your GPS signal,” Roy says in his ear. “Fortunately, the trail of destruction was pretty easy to follow. I’m on the warehouse roof outside, across the street.”

“She set me up,” Tiberius goes on. “She fucking set me up, that bitch.” He looks up at Jason, shaking his head. “Yeah, Romina asked me to bail Susie out of jail today. Probably so one of you fuckers would come after me. She’ll be pissed as hell that she didn’t get Batman.”

Jason grinds his teeth. “Arsenal, we’re gonna have incoming soon,” he barks into his comm.

“Thank God, I’d hate to get bored up here,” Roy replies easily.

“Whatever backup you have, it’s not gonna be enough,” Tiberius says. “Romina doesn’t take chances. I can’t tell you where she is, couldn’t even tell you the neighborhood. I’ve had two meetings with her at her office, they had me drugged and blindfolded coming and going. Drove for a long-ass time, too, but that doesn’t mean anything.”

“Fine,” Jason snaps. “So you’ve had meetings with her. Tell me what she’s after.”

“What she’s after? She’s after everything,” Tiberius says bluntly. “The whole goddamn city. Thinks it’s hers by right, because of who her grandpa was. She’s fucking nuts, even for Gotham.”

Everything. Jason turns it over in his head. She’s not just seizing control of the East End, not just the canal, but everything. They’ve got an overachieving mob boss on their hands. Out-fucking-standing.

“I’ve got twenty guys coming in hot, Hood.” Roy sounds tense. “More trucks pulling in. I can take down most of them, but I think they’re just the first wave. We don’t have enough ammo for this.”

“She hates you guys,” Tiberius laughs bitterly. “If you get away, she’s gonna lose her shit. Sucks I won’t be around to see it.”

“A real shame,” Jason agrees, distracted. He can hear the sound of fighting outside. Time to bail. “Who else is - “

“Hood, we have to go, now.”

Jason pulls the gun from his shoulder holster. “If you survive, I’ll be seeing you soon,” he promises, voice low and deadly. The look on Tiberius’s face tells him just how likely he thinks that is, and Jason can’t help but agree. The blindfolds, the errands, the lack of family connection all add up to one thing: disposable. Tiberius is no made man, he’s just a hired hand, and it’s clear Romina has decided to terminate his employment. Jason remembers Tim’s story about Tiberius passing around photos of murdered kids to the grunts at Intergang, and he feels no sudden impulse to drag the guy to safety.

Outside, he and Roy shoot their way through the dozen or so remaining mobsters, Jason aiming as non-lethally as possible. Roy’s taser arrows cut the last few down, and then they hit the street running, down the block, through a boarded up ice cream shop, down an alley, and up to the rooftops. Jason hears a few gunshots below them when they make the jump over a particularly wide gap, but he keeps them running north, away from the harbor and towards the river, hoping to lose their pursuers on unfamiliar turf. It works. Romina may have her sights set on all of Gotham, but most of her henchmen have seldom ventured more than a few blocks out of the territory they grew up in.

After about half a mile, they stop to catch their breath, and Jason sits down to massage his thigh where the bullet had struck earlier.

“How’d you get over here, anyways?” Jason asks. They’d left their bikes in Jason’s storage unit on the west side of Crime Alley, Roy’s borrowed from Dick for the evening. If Roy left the bike next to a shootout, Dick’s going to be mad as hell.

“Helicopter arrow,” Roy deadpans. Jason looks for something to throw at him. “No, I just took an Uber. Grand theft auto’s not really my thing, these days.”

Jason stares at him. “Since when?”

Roy shrugs. “Since Lian started asking questions about it, I guess. It’s just like...whenever she hears about a crime, like finding out why we lock the car doors when we leave it, she asks me all these details about it. Sometimes she asks if I’ve ever done it, and I can’t lie to her, you know? I want to be able to tell her what she wants to hear, which is ‘no, Daddy hasn’t stolen any cars lately’.” He points at Jason accusingly. “Whatever. Don’t judge me. You’re just lucky yours can’t talk yet.”

“I didn’t even say anything,” Jason protests. He objects strongly to Roy referring to Dani as his, too, but that’s probably exactly why Roy did it, so there’s no point bringing it up. “I’ve got a safe house not too far from here, next to a chop shop. Does it count as stealing to Lian if the car is already stolen?”

Roy laughs. “Not sure she can parse the nuance there. How about you do the stealing, and that’s the technicality I can skate on.”

“Fine.” Jason gets to his feet, wincing slightly as his thigh burns.

“You all good?”

“Yeah, just got a lucky shot in. My fault for not checking to see if he still had the damn gun.”

“Hey, at least in the Manor you’ve got all the whole Bat Hospital at your disposal,” Roy grins. “Among other perks, of course.”

Jason is very glad Roy can’t see him blush under the helmet. He was just thinking about how he wants to get back and see Dani - how he’ll need to take his armor off to check out the damage to his leg - how taking his armor off always wakes her up, so he’ll have to do it in Dick’s room - how the offer is on the table for him to sleep in Dick’s bed -

Business appears to be booming at the chop shop, and Jason decides on stealing a flashy little Lexus coupe that makes Roy whistle in appreciation. They drive back through the Bowery, stopping once so Jason can beat the crap out of a bouncer-turned-wannabe-pimp trying to sell girls outside of a gentlemen’s club. Then they get back to the bikes, and he checks in with Oracle to see if there’s any other action they need to investigate before they call it a night.

“I think you boys have stirred up enough trouble tonight,” she tells him firmly. “There’s been surprisingly little action in your neck of the woods, actually. Bludhaven is the hot zone tonight, I sent Black Bat and Spoiler over there earlier to help Robin out.”

“Fingerstripes will be sorry he missed it,” Jason says. “Russians again?”

“Arsonists, this time. At least five of them.”

“Shit. Sounds more like a Gotham thing than ‘Haven.”

“It does,” she agrees. “It feels choreographed, somehow. I’m going to keep looking into it, along with the Viti family. Oracle out.”

Roy raises his eyebrows. “Arsonists, huh?”

Jason snorts in surprise. “You hacked my comm line?”

“Let’s put it this way: Babs let me hack your comm line.”

True enough. “Sounds like they’ve got everything in hand, at least,” Jason says. “Don’t really feel like dragging ass all the way to Jersey’s armpit. You sleeping at the Manor tonight?”

Roy scratches the back of his head. “Thought about it, but I think I’m gonna text Donna and quietly crash girl’s night. Whenever I get shot at, or almost blown up or whatever, I just kind of need to see Lian. Tell Dick I’ll bring the bike back tomorrow.”

Jason nods. “I’ll catch you later, then.” In truth, he knows exactly how Roy feels. He’s dying to get back to Dani as quickly as possible, to see her and touch her and make sure she’s okay. It doesn’t make sense - he’s the one who got shot at, she’s been in arguably the most secure location in the whole tri-state area. But somehow, in spite of his bruised ribs and what’s sure to be a wicked hematoma on his thigh, all he can think about is keeping her safe. He’d walk through fire to make sure of it, he knows without a doubt. Fortunately, all he has to do tonight is make the trek back over the Robert Kane bridge.

Roy gives his shoulder a friendly squeeze, and then takes off in the direction of the old Titans bunker in Robbinsville. Jason parks the Lexus in his storage unit, arms the security system, and then kicks his bike into gear, making a beeline for the highway and the bridge, which will take him back to the Manor, and back to Dani.

***

[sortasirius]

“Destiny’s Child” and the Destiny of...Them

So that was..........A Lot.

Liked A LOT about it, a lot more than a usually do with Buckleming, but uh, some issues.  Eugenie didn’t really need to bring up Busty Asian Beauties, that had gone and we didn’t need more of it.  And I hate any mention of John Winchester that is positive, whether it’s in an AU or hammering home how poor of a father he is, but other than some details, this was a wild ride that I mostly enjoyed and have a lot to talk about.  They certainly crammed a lot in there.

Starting from literally the very beginning, they’re hitting us with some sick parallels in the “Then” portion of the episode.  Listen, y’all know me.  Y’all know I am.......Not A Fan of M*g or M******l, I am, however a Rachel Miner stan, so when the “Then” started out with the pizza man and the cringy kiss from “Caged Heat” I sorta rolled my eyes but held out hope for a Rachel cameo bc I.....lov her.  But then.............”I learned that from the pizza man” is compared directly with Dean being mistaken for a pizza man?  And then eating pizza in like 20 different scenes?  Could the production be louder???????  There is, in my opinion, literally no other way to take that, that was a sequence that basically said “Dean taught Cas how to kiss” and I will not be accepting dissenting opinions at this time.

Also AU Sam and Dean were so dumb and I appreciated their stupid Fiat and the song that played when they got out of the car, thanks Amyn, I appreciate you dawg.  And then Sam and Dean explaining it to Cas?  Thanks base gods.

Cas was so fucking sassy in this ep and I......love him so much.

The idea of killing Amara is interesting, mostly because it brings her into play again, we saw in the beginning of the season that she just....doesn’t give a fuck about any of this, but the boys don’t know that, so maybe she’ll become an ally?  Idk, here’s hoping.  I miss her.

And when Cas and Dean have this exchange about the occultum:

“It was housed for hundreds of years in an ancient before it was-”

“Plundered by pirates!”

“No-”

“It was...dug up by tomb raiders!”

“No.”

“It was...seized by the king of the dead and his warlords amiclose?”

“Looted by invading mongol hoardes for trade on the black-”

“Black market, yeah I was gonna say that next, that was the next one.”

Like.....can y’all say MARRIED?  Anyway.

Danneel and Gen???  Together???  Ruby and Sister Jo????  Together???? I’m gay.

I’m SUPER interested in the convo that Jack and Cas have in the kitchen, specifically about Dean:

“Will he ever forgive me?”

“You know, Dean...he feels things more acutely than any human I’ve ever known.  So, it’s possible he could work through this.  One day he may explode, let it all out, breathe deeply and move on.”

“How long will that take?”

“I don’t know.”

Can we say PARALLELS fam??  First of all, Cas is so in tune with Dean, he knows him so well, knows how much he cares how deeply he loves.  Honestly it causes me chest pains to think about it for too long.  But Cas knows this because he just went through it, Dean “couldn’t forgive” and “couldn’t move on” until he had an Outburst in Purgatory and begged asked Cas to forgive him for how he acted.  It’s an interesting parallel because it isn’t a direct parallel: Dean was the one that asked forgiveness of Cas, not the other way around.  It’s a little detail, but at this point every little detail seems to be important down the road.

Also there were a lot of Looks between Dean and Cas and they were all soft and I gtg

And then we get the big mention: the first mention of Cas’ deal since last season.  I knew the writers wouldn’t just write this plotline off, and Cas is, “far from happy” as he says himself.  So.....not to clown.....but if getting Jack back doesn’t make him happy............what does? (I think we know)

And then Cas in the Empty, looking for Ruby, and runs into “Meg” (Rachel I missed u).  And I think it’s fascinating that the Empty appeared as Meg specifically.  The Empty knows Cas, of course, but, more specifically, the Empty knows EVERYTHING about Cas.  “I know who you love, what you fear.”  And the Empty appears to Cas as someone that he TRUSTED, not as someone that he loved.  It’s an important distinction, because if the Empty wanted to appear as something that would RATTLE Cas, it would appear as someone that he loved or hated, but he trusted Meg, that’s why it appeared to him as her.

Also, “go get her, pizza man” after that intro?  Really just hammering home that Dean is the pizza man with all the subtlety of an elephant imho.

Also Concerned Husband Dean is alive and well, he doesn’t even hesitate, he makes Jack bring Cas back immediately, important information be damned.

But before Cas leaves, Empty!Meg says something that should NOT be glossed over, about Death’s plan to defeat Chuck, “Funny thing about her plan though, she didnt say anything about needing you.”

How many times have we heard this this season?  How many times has Cas occupied the negative space?  “No one mentions Cas,” the loudness of his absence after the breakup, when he was kidnapped by Leviathan in Purgatory, not being mentioned in Billie’s plan, and now? Fret not my friends, I know so many people are worried about Cas, but Andrew Dabb is a Cas stan first and a human second, and all of these mentions or lack thereof of Cas being a part of the endgame?  It just makes him all the more important, because he’s a surprise attack, Chuck never sees him coming because he doesn’t consider him important.

And when Cas comes back and Dean calls him an idiot?  Some serious callbacks to one of the gayest episodes and one of my personal faves: “Lily Sunder has Some Regrets.”  They be married.

AU Sam and Dean were very wrong and I did not wike it and that’s that on that tbh.

So they get to the church, Sam holds the door against the hellhounds like the badass boy he is, and Dean and Cas really do just stand exactly where a couple getting married would stand, with Jack standing where the officiant would stand.  I mean.....it’s LOUD.  It’s just real LOUD in here.  Also pretty fucking ON THE NOSE that Jack stands in front of Jesus, Cas in front of Mary, and Dean in front of Joseph.  I’m not qualified to do religious iconography meta but uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh come on now.

That snake sequence...Jack’s life flashing before his eyes before he gets his soul back?  Ya boi weeps.  Buckleming had no right to write something as amazing as Jack’s snake sequence and final scene, it shouldn’t be allowed and it was not what I was expecting.

So.....there was a lot happening in this episode but, y’all know I sound like a broken record here, Dean and Cas were, once again, the overwhelming and blatant focal point.  Sure I watch with my eyes tuned to them especially, but they’re really cranking up the volume over here.  The Empty deal is back and unresolved, Cas talks to Jack about Dean’s forgiveness, Dean’s fearful when he thinks he’s lost Cas again, the fucking pizza man.  It all points one direction.

[invisibleicewands]

Staged's Anna Lundberg and Georgia Tennant: 'Scenes with all four of us usually involved alcohol'

Not many primetime TV hits are filmed by the show’s stars inside their own homes. However, 2020 wasn’t your average year. During the pandemic, productions were shut down and workarounds had to be found – otherwise the terrestrial schedules would have begun to look worryingly empty. Staged was the surprise comedy hit of the summer.

This playfully meta short-form sitcom, airing in snack-sized 15-minute episodes, found A-list actors Michael Sheen and David Tennant playing an exaggerated version of themselves, bickering and bantering as they tried to perfect a performance of Luigi Pirandello’s Six Characters in Search of an Author over Zoom.

Having bonded while co-starring in Good Omens, Amazon’s TV adaptation of Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett’s novel, Sheen, 51, and Tennant, 49, became best buddies in real life. In Staged, though, they’re comedically reframed as frenemies – warm, matey and collaborative, but with a cut-throat competitiveness lurking just below the surface. As they grew ever more hirsute and slobbish in lockdown, their virtual relationship became increasingly fraught.

It was soapily addictive and hilariously thespy, while giving a voyeuristic glimpse of their interior decor and domestic lives – with all the action viewed through their webcams.

Yet it was the supporting cast who lifted Staged to greatness,Their director Simon Evans, forced to dance around the pair’s fragile egos and piggy-in-the-middle of their feuds. Steely producer Jo, played by Nina Sosanya, forever breaking off from calls to bellow at her poor, put-upon PA. And especially the leading men’s long-suffering partners, both actors in real life, Georgia Tennant and Anna Lundberg.

Georgia Tennant comes from showbiz stock, as the child of Peter Davison and Sandra Dickinson. At 36 she is an experienced actor and producer, who made her TV debut in Peak Practice aged 15. She met David on Doctor Who 2008, when she played the Timelord’s cloned daughter Jenny. Meanwhile, the Swedish Lundberg, 26, is at the start of her career. She left drama school in New York two years ago and Staged is her first big on-screen role.

Married for nine years, the Tennants have five children and live in west London. The Lundberg-Sheens have been together two years, have a baby daughter, Lyra, and live outside Port Talbot in south Wales. On screen and in real life, the women have become firm friends and frequent scene-stealers.

Staged proved so successful that it’s now back for a second series. We set up a video call with Tennant and Lundberg to discuss lockdown life, wine consumption, home schooling (those two may be related) and the blurry line between fact and fiction…

Was doing Staged a big decision, because it’s so personal and set in your homes? Georgia Tennant: We’d always been a very private couple. Staged was everything we’d never normally say yes to. Suddenly, our entire house is on TV and so is a version of the relationship we’d always kept private. But that’s the way to do it, I guess. Go to the other extreme. Just rip off the Band-Aid.

Anna Lundberg: Michael decided pretty quickly that we weren’t going to move around the house at all. All you see is the fireplace in our kitchen.

GT: We have five children, so it was just about which room was available.

AL: But it’s not the real us. It’s not a documentary.

GT: Although some people think it is.

Which fictional parts of the show do people mistake for reality? GT: People think I’m really a novelist because “Georgia” writes a novel in Staged. They’ve asked where they can buy my book. I should probably just write one now because I’ve done the marketing already.

AL: People worry about our elderly neighbour, who gets hospitalised in the show. She doesn’t actually exist in real life but people have approached Michael in Tesco’s, asking if she’s OK.

Michael and David squabble about who’s billed first in Staged. Does that reflect real life? AL: With Good Omens, Michael’s name was first for the US market and David’s was first for the British market. So those scenes riffed on that.

Should we call you Georgia and Anna, or Anna and Georgia? GT: Either. We’re super-laidback about these things.

AL: Unlike certain people.

How well did you know each other before Staged? GT: We barely knew each other. We’ve now forged a friendship by working on the show together.

AL: We’d met once, for about 20 minutes. We were both pregnant at the time – we had babies a month apart – so that was pretty much all we talked about.

Did you tidy up before filming? AL: We just had to keep one corner relatively tidy.

GT: I’m quite a tidy person, but I didn’t want to be one of those annoying Instagram people with perfect lives. So strangely, I had to add a bit of mess… dot a few toys around in the background. I didn’t want to be one of those insufferable people – even though, inherently, I am one of those people.

Was there much photobombing by children or pets? AL: In the first series, Lyra was still at an age where we could put her in a baby bouncer. Now that’s not working at all. She’s just everywhere. Me and Michael don’t have many scenes together in series two, because one of us is usually Lyra-wrangling.

GT: Our children aren’t remotely interested. They’re so unimpressed by us. There’s one scene where Doris, our five-year-old, comes in to fetch her iPad. She doesn’t even bother to glance at what we’re doing.

How was lockdown for you both? AL: I feel bad saying it, but it was actually good for us. We were lucky enough to be in a big house with a garden. For the first time since we met, we were in one place. We could just focus on Lyra . To see her grow over six months was incredible. She helped us keep a steady routine, too.

GT: Ours was similar. We never spend huge chunks of time together, so it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. At least until David’s career goes to shit and he’s just sat at home. The flipside was the bleakness. Being in London, there were harrowing days when everything was silent but you’d just hear sirens going past, as a reminder that something awful was going on. So I veered between “This is wonderful” and “This is the worst thing that ever happened.”

And then there was home schooling… GT: Which was genuinely the worst thing that ever happened.

You’ve spent a lot of time on video calls, clearly. What are your top Zooming tips? GT: Raise your camera to eye level by balancing your laptop on a stack of books. And invest in a ring light.

AL: That’s why you look so much better. We just have our sad kitchen light overhead, which makes us look like one massive shiny forehead.

GT: Also, always have a good mug on the go [raises her cuppa to the camera and it’s a Michael Sheen mug]. Someone pranked David on the job he’s shooting at the moment by putting a Michael Sheen mug in his trailer. He brought it home and now I use it every morning. I’m magically drawn to drinking out of Michael.

There’s a running gag in series one about the copious empties in Michael’s recycling. Did you lean into lockdown boozing in real life? AL: Not really. We eased off when I was pregnant and after Lyra was born. We’d just have a glass of wine with dinner.

GT: Yes, definitely. I often reach for a glass of red in the show, which was basically just an excuse to continue drinking while we were filming: “I think my character would have wine and cake in this scene.” The time we started drinking would creep slightly earlier. “We’ve finished home schooling, it’s only 4pm, but hey…” We’ve scaled it back to just weekends now.

How did you go about creating your characters with the writer Simon Evans? AL: He based the dynamic between David and Michael on a podcast they did together. Our characters evolved as we went along.

GT: I was really kind and understanding in the first draft. I was like “I don’t want to play this, it’s no fun.” From the first few tweaks I made, Simon caught onto the vibe, took that and ran with it.

Did you struggle to keep a straight face at times? AL: Yes, especially the scenes with all four of us, when David and Michael start improvising.

GT: I was just drunk, so I have no recollection.

AL: Scenes with all four of us were normally filmed in the evening, because that’s when we could be child-free. Usually there was alcohol involved, which is a lot more fun.

GT: There’s a long scene in series two where we’re having a drink. During each take, we had to finish the glass. By the end, we were all properly gone. I was rewatching it yesterday and I was so pissed.

What else can you tell us about series two? GT: Everyone’s in limbo. Just as we think things are getting back to normal, we have to take three steps back again. Everyone’s dealing with that differently, shall we say.

AL: In series one, we were all in the same situation. By series two, we’re at different stages and in different emotional places.

GT: Hollywood comes calling, but things are never as simple as they seem.

There were some surprise big-name cameos in series one, with Samuel L Jackson and Dame Judi Dench suddenly Zooming in. Who can we expect this time around? AL: We can’t name names, but they’re very exciting.

GT: Because series one did so well, and there’s such goodwill towards the show, we’ve managed to get some extraordinary people involved. This show came from playing around just to pass the time in lockdown. It felt like a GCSE end-of-term project. So suddenly, when someone says: “Samuel L Jackson’s in”, it’s like: “What the fuck’s just happened?”

AL: It took things to the next level, which was a bit scary.

GT: It suddenly felt like: “Some people might actually watch this.”

How are David and Michael’s hair and beard situations this time? AL: We were in a toyshop the other day and Lyra walked up to these Harry Potter figurines, pointed at Hagrid and said: “Daddy!” So that explains where we’re at. After eight months of lockdown, it was quite full-on.

GT: David had a bob at one point. Turns out he’s got annoyingly excellent hair. Quite jealous. He’s also grown a slightly unpleasant moustache.

Is David still wearing his stinky hoodie? GT: I bought him that as a gift. It’s actually Paul Smith loungewear. In lockdown, he was living in it. It’s pretty classy, but he does manage to make it look quite shit.

[discotreque]

Disco 3.08: The Sanctuary

This week IRL was a real mixed bag for me: a lot of messy and barely-manageable anxiety about my health, my day job, and uhhhh *gestures outside*—but also I’ve recently fallen in love (from a responsible social distance)—so it’s been equal parts re-writing professional emails to edit the panic attack out of my tone and gazing dreamily at Discord notifications with cartoon hearts in my eyes. It feels like my life is going to hell in the cutest, coziest handbasket—which is to say that Michael Burnham could not possibly feel like a more relatable character to me right now.

I continue to have issues with the writing at a strange medium-level—somewhere between micro, where the dialogue and characters are really good, and macro, where I’m digging the pace of the overall season, it almost feels like something went wrong in the assembly process, and the script ended up a little bit less than the sum of its perfectly good parts. Again.

But that’s such vague criticism as to be nearly meaningless, and it’s hardly the most interesting level to spend time on anyway. If I zoom out, the parallel season arcs of “getting used to the future” and “the mystery of the Burn” are hanging together wayyyyy better than the Red Angel saga did last year.

And if I zoom in? This episode was funny as shit, wtf.

The discourse re: Tilly these past couple of weeks has been bullshit, and I have a whole angry thing to say about it—but honestly, if you can’t appreciate Doug Jones and Mary Wiseman as a comedic duo, I’m not really mad: mostly I pity the lack of joy in your heart.

Everyone on this show is so funny. Doug’s prissy little delivery absolutely slaughters me (“Execute!...?”), Mary will make a face sometimes that has me screaming laughter into my hands, and I’ve gone on before—and will again—about Sonequa Martin-Green’s egregiously underrated comedy chops.

They were obviously casting for folks w/ jokes in the new season too: David Ajada is no slouch in the dry-delivery or the goofy-face department; his energy and chemistry with Sonequa are as suited to comedy as they are to romance (i.e. extremely 🥵). Anthony Rapp and Wilson Cruz we knew about, but Blu del Barrio—a certified tiny baby!!!—holds their own and lands every smartass whiz-kid one-liner just on the right side of “too precious to stand.” (I almost always at least chuckle, and never roll my eyes, and for a “teen genius” character that’s literally as good as it gets.) And living legend Michelle Yeoh is clearly having the time of her life, omfg.

Disco’s not funny-funny like Lower Decks, but they do funny-on-purpose better than any live-action Trek except maybe DS9. They have such a deep comedic bench they don’t even need Tig Notaro—they have her on just to flex, I presume.

(I don’t know if I’m predicting, per se, that Strange New Worlds—with Rebecca Romjin’s deadpan, Anson Mount’s twinkly eyes, and Ethan Peck’s twinkly-eyed deadpan—is going to have a tone somewhere between Disco S3 and LwD—but I mean... it kinda has to, right? And you know they kept the number for Rainn Wilson’s agent.)

***

At the start of this episode, I was “sure, why the fuck not” about First Officer Tilly; by the end, I was completely on board. And to everyone who’s still wringing their hands about “the real military” this (always from people who have no idea how actual militaries work, lol) and “Lt. Nilsson” that (she... already has a job on the ship? And no character traits besides “stoic” and “furrows brow”? Oh, I get it—she’s skinny and blonde)—y’all are kind of embarrassing me.

“Rank” and “position” (and “seniority” and “day-to-day duties”...) aren’t the same thing, in Star Trek or any IRL military. Yes, the permanent first officers of normal-duty Starfleet ships we’ve seen have usually been command-division officers with the rank of Commander—but not always. Star Trek: Discovery-A, if you will, is a unique show about a unique ship in a unique situation: “B-b-but that’s not how they do it on Star Trek!!!” isn’t a legitimate criticism, not of this—it’s the mournful cry of an entitled pissbaby who isn’t having their hand held all the way to the fireworks factory.

Here’s what an argument supported by the text of the first 37 episodes of Star Trek: Discovery actually looks like: Sylvia Tilly is nervous and lacks self-confidence, but once she gets over herself—which she can do pretty much instantly in a crisis, even when hilariously intoxicated—she is competent as hell. In lower-stakes situations, without intense pressure to focus her attention, she sometimes gets sidetracked by her own insecurities; at her best, she channels that anxious energy into ambition, drive, and being scrupulously organized.

The only person Tilly doesn’t always get along with is Stamets, and even Stamets’s husband thinks he’s an asshole. Since Season 1, we’ve seen her easily socializing with the rest of the crew, who seem to universally adore her. And she’s also happy to leave her social comfort zone at a moment’s notice: she aligned herself with Ash Tyler (miss you, Shazad!) when no one else would, and she instantly befriended Po even when Po was in Weird Feral Alien Princess mode and Tilly had salad in her hair. She doesn’t like confrontation, but she’s brave enough to initiate it anyway if she needs to, and she’s compassionate with other people’s feelings while still setting firm boundaries. (Her graceful dodge of Rhys’s tipsy kiss at the party in 1.07 lives rent-free in my head to this day.)

No, Tilly didn’t finish the Command Training Program—but she started it, which is almost certainly more command training than any of the lieutenants whose names we know, all of whom are Ops or Science personnel with, presumably, specialized non-command training of their own. The same could be assumed for any unseen ranking officers on this science ship with an entirely volunteer skeleton crew.

And seriously, about Nilsson: she’s my #3 background bae after Octopus Head and the lady on Pike’s Enterprise with the spiky red face, but her job is Spore Drive Ops, not personnel. If she’s running after Saru with a holo-clipboard, who’s going to look serious and push holo-buttons when there’s a Black Alert? *drops holo-mic* Drumhead!

***

The stuff on Kwejian, though. Ooof. Ol’ Two-Takes Frakes directed this one, and between the kinetic energy he always adds to the camera and the scintillating performances he evokes, things stayed moving so briskly I almost didn’t notice Book’s entire “homeworld” was a rental house outside Vancouver, a couple acres of adjacent woods, and like six or seven people.

It’s a hot mess in retrospect, but in the moment it gave us the intensity of Book and Kyheem trying to hurt each other’s feelings by poking at 15-year-old wounds, which as a sibling with complicated sibling relationships I found both funny and devastating—not to mention Frakes directing “shaky bridge” explosion falls at an obvious intensity of “10” on an outdoor location shoot. It falls apart at the slightest scrutiny, but I can’t lie, on first viewing I was totally along for the ride.

***

I’m dying to see where this Georgiou thing goes. It doesn’t feel like a stretch to assume she got Cronenberg’d a couple weeks ago, probably to get her under the thumb of this century’s Section 31, and that her arc is going to take Michelle Yeoh off this show in a way that sets up the S31 show. But also, I don’t care so much whether I’m right, I just want to watch Michelle Yeoh—and Sonequa Martin-Green, and also David Cronenberg tbh, and bring back Shazad Latif while you’re at it—get wherever they’re going.

It’s also a fun and interesting direction to take the comically-evil comic relief character and show that her performative moustache-twirling is partly habit and partly a transparent emotional defence against very real fear and vulnerability. We’re all products of our circumstances, and a radical enough change in circumstances can afford almost anyone at least the opportunity to change. I can’t say Emperor Georgiou would have been my first choice of protagonist for that storyline, but it’s not like Michelle Yeoh’s not going to fuckin’ crush it.

***

Miscellany:

So the Burn had an origin point, and now that point is broadcasting a signal that’s somehow both a haunting melody that everyone seems to know—but no one can remember learning—and a Federation distress signal. What the fuck, y’all. I have full-body goosebumps just typing that.

Saru workshopping his own captainly catchphrase with the aid of Tilly’s extreme sincerity and organizational skills is probably the funniest thing that’s ever happened on this show—followed closely by the uncomfortably lingering reaction shots when he’s trying them out on the bridge 😂 (And omg please give Rhys and Bryce the dumbass buddy-comedy C-plots they deserve next season, I beg you.)

I would do a little “prop watch” entry on those Kwejianian(?) bolt-throwing rifles, but I’d have to stop drooling over them first. “Curvy polished hardwood” seems to be New Trek shorthand for “extra sleek and futuristic” (cf. the bridge of the USS Titan in the LwD finale), and I have to say: I am fully into it.

Restating my prediction that we will not see Detmer and Owosekun get together this season, because we will find out that they’ve been together for ages. Everyone knew—Pike even knew!—it just never came up in front of the audience before. That would be one of the cutest ways to do it imho, and one of the funniest too, especially as a meta-joke about how much character development didn’t happen in the first two seasons. (That said, if we get to see their first kiss, I will be screaming with incoherent joy for days, so this is a real win-win for me.)

Speaking of cute: IRL spouses Mary Wiseman and Noah Averbach-Katz, both Julliard-trained actors (it’s where they met!), can’t quite hide their chemistry in the scenes between Tilly and Ryn. I loved seeing Tilly be a hardass when Ryn was rude to the captain, but that sparkle in her eyes didn’t quite match the context <3

And speaking of people who are VERY OBVIOUSLY IN LOVE: that last scene with Book and Michael, and his nervous little “yeah, I said it” eyebrow lift, and her irrepressible giggle as she’s walking away... it was almost too much. Especially right after the queer-family scenes with Stamets and Culber and Adira. My poor heart is going through a lot lately, and I guess I’m just glad Season 3’s emotional intensity is melting it with soft sweet scenes like that instead of kicking it down repeated flights of stairs like Season 1.

***

Next week: everyone stops caring about the Burn and starts trying to solve an even more important mystery—why is this (holographic) dude wearing an early-2360s uniform with an early-2370s combadge?

[tepidjasminetea]

A nostalgia retrospective at Frozen

I was of the generation that grew up with frozen as the defining childhood event, I think that says a lot about my age, I remember watching the movie in the theatre with my mom and having my little popcorn in one hand and my little cup of fizzy drink in another and being amazed by our lord and savior Elsa of Arendelle. Saying that this movie changed my little barely developed frontal lobe is an understatement, it fucking penetrated it and all I could think about for months on end was Frozen. While writing the script for this I listened to Let it Go and inexplicably I had flashbacks of little petite me compulsively almost replaying that song. Remembering the hold of that movie on me and people of my age during that time feels unreal, it honestly seems like Disney sprinkled in a bit of crack into that song. My general thoughts when I watched it in theatres was that this film was perfect in every sense and Elsa was the hottest woman alive.

Recap

Before I dive into the video, I will give a brief background or refresh of the film for the three people who haven’t seen it and those who haven’t seen it in like seven years since its release. Frozen is a 2013 animated movie made by Disney, there’s Anna the cute and clumsy ginger sister, Elsa the sister that Disney made approximately half a million dollars off of merchandise, Kristoff the furry that talks to reindeer, Olaf a snowman, and Hans the evil ginger. The story centers on Anna and Elsa; as a child, Elsa accidentally hit Anna in the head with her ice magic while playing with her. To fix Anna’s brain essentially she had to have all her memories of Elsa’s magic removed. So from that incident onward, Anna doesn’t know about Elsa’s powers, and because of the incident, Elsa started to distance herself. So the sisters barely have any contact for the fifteen or so odd years. The sisters are reunited on Elsa’s coronation day and Anna sings a song about open doors and finally getting to meet people again that hits different in 2021.  Anna pisses Elsa off because she wants to marry a ginger man with sideburns. They fight and in the heat of the moment Elsa shoots ice at her sister. The secret is out and Elsa is overwhelmed so she runs away to the mountains to build her ice castle and we get the song that won Disney ‘Best Original Song’ at the Oscars. Anna gets on a horse and goes to search for her sister in the northern mountains. Then her horse fucks off and she finds her way to a convenience store? Is that what you would call it? And she meets our lovely golden retriever boy Kristoff and for a pickaxe, some rope, and some carrots for his reindeer, he agrees to take our cute little ginger north. On the way, they find Olaf who is a sentient snowman that Elsa created with her magic. They go to Elsa’s castle and Anna tries to convince Elsa to return to their home and to make it summer again. I don’t know why she would want that since winter is the superior season. Anyways Elsa is unconvinced and still wants to be a hermit. Anna pushes a little too hard, we get a lovely duet between the sisters and then Elsa blasts Anna’s heart. Oh no Anna’s poor heart is starting to freeze as her hair slowly turns white. Kristoff brings Anna to the trolls that treated Anna’s head all those years ago, coincidentally those trolls also were the ones that raised Kristoff. Then we get the cutest musical number ever to exist, fucking fight me. Granddaddy troll tells Anna and Kristoff that she needs an act of true love to thaw her frozen heart. So Kristoff delivers Anna back to the ginger with the sideburns because they think that the little ginger boy is Anna’s, true love. So while that happens Hans and a couple of people are at Elsa’s ice castle trying to capture her, but she doesn’t want that so she almost commits a double homicide. This is the point where I thought she’d make a great video game character. Some random dude tries to fire an arrow at the distracted Elsa but Hans stops him and the arrow, unfortunately, fires into the ice chandelier above and that thing crashes down on Elsa knocking her out. She then is carted back to Arendelle and put in chains, she pleads for her freedom and Hans is like I’ll see what I can do. Anna arrives at the castle and asks Hans to kiss her, but low and behold the ginger is evil and never loved Anna and just wanted the throne so he doesn’t kiss her and leaves her to die. In the meantime, Elsa escapes from her dungeon and Hans is chasing her down. Anna is rescued by Olaf and they decide to run towards Kristoff because he must love her and then he can reverse the frozen heart. So Elsa is running, Anna is running, Hans is running and so is Kristoff. Hans catches up to Elsa and tells her that Anna died because of her and that it’s all her fault, Elsa is devastated and Hans takes the chance to try and kill her. Anna who is running towards Kristoff sees this happening and instead of running towards her true love she decides to go and save Elsa. Her body turns into ice fully as she blocks the sword from slicing Elsa in half like a piece of white tuna. Elsa sees this and she cries over Anna’s icy figure and her tears thaw Anna’s frozen heart since it is an act of true love because the sisters love eachother. Elsa realizes that love is what she needs to reverse winter and bring back summer, and so she waves her hand a bit and takes back all the snow. Kristoff and Anna kiss, Olaf gets to experience summer, and Elsa’s crippling social anxiety is solved. The end. 

The Music

When I was watching frozen I found it so strange that I pretty much remembered the lyrics to everything. I’ve never been much of a musical person I never liked musicals that much but I found that in this movie the music was one of the main enjoyment of it. Perhaps it’s just me in my old age but I honestly felt like these songs aged like fine wine, even the ones that I didn’t like as much or wasn’t musically ambitious I still found them extremely enjoyable. I also liked the score how they incorporated some kind of Scandinavian music in it and it just made the world-building better. Let it Go was just as ear-wormy as I remembered and it was just as powerful as I remember because we’re just coming off of Elsa running away scared and this song is essentially her owning her socially awkward ass and saying yes I want to be a hermit and there’s nothing wrong about it. Which my now more developed frontal lobe resonated deeply with. Now I know this video isn’t about comparing Frozen and its sequel but I will have to mention how I realized how much simpler and more or less conventional pop song-y the first movie’s songs are. I also listened to into the unknown and show yourself on youtube prior and those two songs feel more ingrained in the world and the lore. Which does make sense since the second movie is a bit world-building. But for Let it Go and Do you wanna build a snowman the mystical and magical feel that songs in Frozen 2 have isn’t present. I understand since into the unknown and show yourself are all sorta about a spirit, but I just wished that the main songs in Frozen incorporated some form of Scandinavian music that’s present in the opening song and the score. 

The Characters

Kristoff

Recently it has been pointed out to me that I might just have an inclination towards big blonde himbo characters, I simped for Matthias in Six of Crows, and I positively melted at the sight of Kristoff the big blonde boy with a fetish for reindeer. Kristoff was probably my favourite character upon this second viewing. There’s absolutely no concrete or sound reason for it that I can defend with words. Literally, I just have a gene in my DNA that just makes me extremely biased towards that type of character. I love his grounded personality in comparison with Anna’s slightly airheaded disposition. I love that he’s raised by trolls it just makes me feel happy. 

Anna

Anna is often looked upon as the lesser sister by Disney’s merchandising and in turn by the little girls who were the primary audience of this movie. One this second viewing with my more mature and refined taste I actually respected Anna as a character and I thought it was good that she was so ordinary because it was refreshing almost and it made her much more endearing. The takeaway I had from the movie was that Anna was kinda a self-insert character, she’s just like the audience going on an adventure and only just learning about her sister’s powers, she’s relatable to the audience. She’s the perfect ordinary relatable gal that everyone loves. The one thing I wish she had was a proper character arc, granted she doesn’t need one, but Disney almost tries to shoehorn in one with the inclusion of Hans and how he wasn’t her true love. Her arc is almost like discovering that true love doesn’t come from someone that she met just two days ago. Because Disney wants to do meta-commentary on their own material but Anna doesn’t even really learn that lesson? Because Hans not loving Anna isn’t a product of them only knowing eachother for two days but instead a product of him being evil, so the thesis that Disney so badly wants to prove was undermined by their own twist villain. And then even worse they imply that Kristoff instead is Anna’s true love even though Kristoff has known Anna for roughly the same amount of time as Hans. So if you are trying to make a point that true love doesn’t happen in a couple of days then sorry Disney you failed…? 

Elsa

She’s the main character the story centers around her and she has the most complex emotions, character arc and personality. Her arc is one about her overcoming her fear of her own powers and it fulfills that change in the character somewhat. Near the end of the movie, we see her distraught more than ever because she believes her powers killed her own sister and she is positively depressed. But then she’s able to save her sister with the power of love. And she uses the same power of love to reverse her power, and we assume with the power of love she learns to control it. Which is a bit of a cop-out just having all her internal issues be solved with love, Elsa doesn’t really learn anything she learns that i guess Anna loves her? Which I thought she knew from the beginning. And it would be strange if she didn’t love Anna since the beginning or if she didn’t know that Anna loved her. Elsa’s issue was that no one understood her, and that issue still isn’t solved by the end and Anna’s love certainly didn’t solve that issue so I don’t really think that ending fits with her character. It would have made more sense if Elsa was a villain who didn’t understand love or who shitted on the idea of love then this ending would have been better. 

Hans

Out of all the characters, Hans is done the dirtiest. I know I make fun of him for being a dirty little ginger but i think he had so much potential in being a good character and a good subversion of the prince charming trope and they squandered every bit of it for a twist villain. We could have had them sing the same love is an open door song but have them over the course of the movie slowly realize that they don’t really love each other and it finally culminates in the supposedly true love’s kiss not working. Then Anna would have learned her lesson and Hans wouldn’t be a terrible twist villain with motivations that don’t make sense. I felt so strongly after this viewing that Hans should have been redeemed in the second movie somehow. 

Olaf

I’m not going to count him as a character because he’s a snowman and his personality starts with comic relief and ends with merchandise sales. 

Sven

I love Sven and the relationship he has with Kristoff, it’s cute it establishes Kristoff as a good well-meaning furry so the audience instantly is able to connect with him and trust him. 

The Plot

I found in retrospect the movie was so much more complex than I remembered, as a little petite child I didn’t understand that there was so much political intrigue? I’ve been recently rewatching Game of Thrones the good seasons and watching Frozen I thought like wow this feels so game of thrones esque (mostly just Hans’s elaborate but completely ridiculous plan) and I was just thinking how it would have played out differently if Frozen was a Game of Thrones political fantasy movie. Anyways the plot of Frozen is singlehandedly fucked by Disney’s compulsive twitch to make a twist villain. In the beginning, we meet Hans and he’s charming and cute and positively enamoured with Anna. We even get this little scene of him smiling to himself once he met Anna that just doesn’t make sense at all when you watch it a second time and realize this bitch was never meant to love Anna at all. In a much earlier version of Frozen, where Elsa was more of a classic Disney villain (she would eventually become good), Prince Hans in that version was also established as a twist villain. But Disney decided that Elsa as a villain didn’t really connect with the audience so they decided to change the story and make Elsa more sympathetic but they still had to keep the element of Prince Hans being a villain to provide drama and twists. So ok Hans had to be evil, no negotiation let’s assume Daddy Disney said we have to have evil ginger or I will eat ur firstborns, or whatever. But that still doesn’t explain why the setup had to be so bad. The main reason why Hans is such a bad twist villain is that there was never a setup for him to be evil, a lot of his earlier scenes don’t make sense in retrospect when you know that he was scheming for the throne all along. The scene where he and a few of the castle men are in Elsa’s palace and one of the men is about to shoot Elsa and kill her, but Hans stops it even though he admits out loud to Anna later that he needed an accident to happen to Elsa so he could get the throne. Well, Hans, there’s your accident, did you have a sudden stroke of kindness to spare her or are you playing some sort of 4D chess us mere mortals are too stupid to understand? Because clearly having her being shot by someone else would absolve him of any guilt., and he’d definitely look less guilty than if he was going to slash Elsa in half on a frozen ocean in plain view of the castle. I know this criticism is a relatively dead horse so there’s no reason to go too in-depth with it. Hans doesn’t make sense and very easily you could have written Hans to be just a regular guy that serves the purpose of teaching Anna the lesson that true love isn’t found but is instead built over years. Who would be the villain then? Well, it’s simple, we already had the townspeople being generally scared of Elsa’s powers so it’s very easy for Disney to have just made them the antagonists. Elsa can still be captured and brought back to Arendelle with Hans not really wanting to kill her but the townspeople are sick and tired of this winter and they want her dead (this also coincidentally aligns with papa troll’s vision of Elsa’s power inspiring fear and people turning on her). Elsa could escape the prison just the same in the original movie only this time she goes outside and finds an angry mob waiting for her who try to chase her down. Anna sees this and can run to protect Elsa like she does in the original, she blocks a blade and that sends a powerful force that sends the townspeople backward. Anna turns into ice, Elsa cries, bada bing bada boom I just wrote you the last 7 minutes of Frozen but actually making sense without changing anything in the first hour and a half. I liked that the movie focuses on sisterly love and I think that’s ultimately the strength of Frozen and what differentiates it from other previous Disney princess movies. 

Meta-commentary

This movie also continues the meta-commentary on Disney’s family-friendly brand image that started with Tangled in this new era of animated movies, or perhaps with Enchanted if we count that as an animated film. I remember not noticing as much when my stupid little child brain was watching the movie for the first time but this time around I found it a bit annoying, especially given that the criticism they ‘address’ is extremely shallow, like ohh instead of marrying after three days Anna and Kristoff wait a few years until they marry, congrats Disney you have earned the progressive animation studios plaque. This is a bit nit-picky for this movie since this one isn’t egregious with the ‘subtle’ commentary, I feel like they’re particularly annoying in the live actions but generally passable in Frozen. 

The Plot that never

I think I have to mention in this video that originally Elsa was going to be a stone-cold villain who is redeemed at the end of the movie after learning how to love. This is the same version I mentioned previously where Hans was the twist villain who would try and set an avalanche on arendelle. Elsa and Anna weren’t going to be sisters so....can I just say that the plot as it is...it could have been an enemies-to-lovers story, featuring our first lesbian couple in a Disney movie. It feels like such wasted potential. I’m sure someone can write fanfiction with this idea to satisfy my...needs.  #i need this very very badly

The Animation

Arguably the best quality about any animated film is the animation. Even after 7 years I still feel awe and wonder when I watch Elsa raise her ice palace from snow and the animation of the ice is just jaw-dropping every single time I watch it. There’s one specific detail I love seeing and it’s Elsa’s shoes, like everything her skirt lifts up slightly when she’s running you get a peek at her shoes and they’re fucking gorgeous like she’s wearing glass slippers! Holy fuck her feet look so graceful and dainty and Elsa just single-handedly gave me a feet fetish. That’s what I took away from Frozen, sisterly love can conqueror all and feet are hot. Reading articles about the process of making Frozen really shows how dedicated the animators were to this project because they brought a real fucking reindeer in into the studios (allegedly according to this website I read). They studied the way cloth moves when it’s frozen by water and the way snow falls from a tree. It’s incredible and watching the movie you can really tell how dedicated the animators were to this project. 

The Legacy

Many believe that the release of Frozen and the earlier animated film Tangled started another renaissance period for Disney, which I think on some level is true since Disney has released quite a few of those ‘princess’ movies that feel like a return to form for the company in the past decade. In a more cynical view, I also feel like Frozen’s success was where Disney realized that merchandise was perhaps the most profitable thing under the sun. If anything the aggressive merchandising of the characters and the songs are what lingers in people’s minds after all these years. The toddlers shouting the lyrics to let it go at the top of their lungs, Frozen theme birthday parties, everyone wanting to dress up as Elsa for Halloween. I feel like the push to make as much money as possible off of Frozen’s success kind of diminishes the film itself. To the general public it isn’t remembered for its beautiful animation or its characters even to a certain extent, but instead, Frozen is remembered for its merchandise being absolutely everywhere which subsequently ended up with a lot of people being fed up with the property. I feel like we can definitely see the merchandising tactic Disney learned with Frozen with the new Star Wars trilogy where new droids were created en masse for merchandising purposes. 

Frozen also birthed a sequel that was largely forgettable in comparison to the first movie, which I feel very disappointed about since even more effort was clearly put into the animation on the second movie. I won’t get into the arduous rewrites and script overhauls that Frozen 2 experienced in this movie but I will say that the success of Frozen probably had something to do with the hyper management of the sequel that led it to be so mediocre and forgettable. 

The End

The overall feeling I have with this movie is nostalgia and fondness. Obviously, it isn’t a perfect movie and its themes and plot aren’t really that novel or perfectly executed either. I feel like a lot of people have forgotten that Frozen was an enjoyable movie and the reason for why it was so popular was because it was a heartfelt movie that was just pretty good. It’s by no means a perfect movie but I think it was a decent movie that will always have a place in my heart. 

[angel-deux-writes]

Hi Angel! I've been a big fan of yours since HCM, and so I wanted to express my concern for your wellbeing. There was that big break when you took a month or so to finish HCM before posting it in quick succession, in order to not have to deal with the comments. Now, from what you've been writing in the notes to Dorne Rights, it looks like you are experiencing something similar. The selfish fan in me wants you to keep writing and keep posting, but the basic human in me is more worried that (1/2)

you are unhappy. Nothing is worth making yourself unhappy over, particularly not something that’s meant to give you pleasure. A favourite author of mine back in the days of my Spike/Angel obsession had a disclaimer on her stories telling readers to please not leave feedback of any kind, not even constructive criticism, on her fics because she finds them unhelpful. Her comment section was full of chats about various topics in that fandom, rather than her own fiction. Might help. (2/2)

Hello! I really appreciate this message, because you’re right: fanfic writing isn’t good for me.

(lol putting this beneath the cut because it’s way too long)

It’s actually my experience in this fandom that has made me realize that writing in general probably isn’t good for me, but unfortunately I feel a drive to it and can’t seem to stop myself from thinking I’ll one day get published, so that’s a bit of a downer. The truth is that I’m naturally disposed toward thinking that I’m shit, my words are shit, and every thought I’ve ever had is unoriginal and poorly written. It’s always been like that, from the time I wrote my first attempt at fiction at 7 years old to now at 31. It takes a lot for me to share my writing with people. I started writing fic at 14, basically as soon as I discovered that I wasn’t the only person composing stories about Han and Leia in their free time. I’m sure that my fics were horrendous. I give myself a hard time now, but 14 year old me probably deserved it even more. But there were sweet people on the internet who encouraged me (and lied to me) and told me that my stories were good, and that made a huge difference. 

(that and my freshman year english teacher, who was very very cute and earnest and young and made me feel like I could actually be a writer.)

I’ve never been a part of a fandom before. Discourse and meta and long discussions about canon events have never interested me. I’ve said that before, and it remains true! I consume what canon there is, and sometimes I like it, and sometimes I hate it. Sometimes I’m so dissatisfied with it that I need to write something, and so I do. I don’t think I’ve ever written fic for something that I found entirely satisfactory. The extension of my being part of an actual fandom in the past was probably reblogging a few gifsets and recommending it to friends. I’ve just never had that sort of communal experience. This, the J/B fandom, was my first time really getting into it. It’s the first time I’ve ever made friends online that weren’t just frequent commenters on long multichapter fics! It has been exciting and I’m grateful for it! It’s just also probably not good for me. 

It’s just, like, every time I post something, I’m fighting a very loud and very desperate voice in my head that’s saying “you’re shit and you shouldn’t bother”. It’s why I’m so good at writing first drafts of novels but so, so bad at getting past the second. It’s why I usually post fics only until I’ve worked out my frustrations: one or two fics per fandom and then ghosting away forever. It’s very hard to defy that voice and post something anyway, and this fandom experience has taught me that no matter HOW many stories I post, I’m ALWAYS going to have to fight that voice. And it’s gotten actively stronger. “You’re not what this fandom wants” “You’re not good at this” “Everyone’s just being nice” “You’ve overstayed your welcome”. Paying attention, often by accident, to the discourse and the metas only makes it worse, because my brain automatically turns to “well YOU don’t write them like that. That means you’re wrong”. I can tell myself as many times as I want that I myself like many different interpretations of J/B! My brain goes “yeah, but you’re just an idiot who doesn’t know any better. There’s a right way, and you’re not doing it”. 

THIS IS ALL SO DRAMATIC! But it’s just the truth! Every time I post something, it’s against my nature. NO ONE outside of fandom reads my writing! I can count on one hand the number of times I’ve allowed my close friends and family to read things. So while it may seem like, idk, like I should just be able to get over it, negative comments, or even SLIGHTLY critical comments, really hit me hard. For all the positive feedback I get (and I really AM super grateful for it, and it means the world to me), those few critical voices seem louder because they’re agreeing with what I have already known about myself. And so it feels almost like a victory, but a shitty one. “Ha! I was right this whole time! I AM a shit writer, and I’ve for some reason tricked those other people into thinking I’m good!” 

For a long time (much longer than I’ve ever written for any other fandom, obviously), I was able to shove it to the side. The J/B fandom HAS been super good to me, and they HAVE been wonderful about giving me feedback and making me feel welcome and included. But those negative voices are just SO LOUD to me, even though I know logically that they shouldn’t be. 

It would be easy to point to a specific problem and say that my issues will be fixed if only I can address that. I do it CONSTANTLY. Maybe if I stopped tagging other relationships. Maybe if I stopped tagging other characters. Maybe if I tagged my works super specifically. Maybe if I made author’s notes about how I’m a shit writer and people shouldn’t expect things from me. Maybe if I just wrote “THIS STORY IS WRITTEN ALREADY AND IM JUST EDITING AS I GO! PLEASE DONT SUGGEST THINGS!” I just feel like, increasingly, I want fewer and fewer eyes on my fics. It’s the opposite of the problem I thought I would have. But my confidence took a huge hit with HCM, and then I was finally feeling good enough to post Dorne Rights. It was probably a mistake! 

idk, maybe it’s just all the shit that’s going on in the world + in my personal life. Maybe it’s just time. Maybe I’m just running out of inspiration. But the positive voices aren’t loud enough to drown out my own negative self-voice this time, and so I’ve been trying to figure out how to handle it. Part of me wants to delete Dorne Rights with the intention of reworking it and maybe posting it again down the line with fewer tags and a lot more reminders that people can write their own stories if they don’t like mine. Part of me wants to just do a HCM and post it all at once so that I can leave the finished product up (even if I now think the entire thing is garbage). Part of me wants to stop writing fic entirely, at least until the next time I watch something with an ending so bad it fucks me up. I think my solution will probably be a massive step back from fandom for a little while. I’ve been feeling a drive to work on my original stuff, and I should probably lean into that. I would like to still write and post J/B, once I find the inspiration, but I’m tired of feeling like this is a job. I think I got so deeply sunk into this attitude of “I NEED to write and post constantly because these people want me to, and they actually like what I write!!” that I stopped writing things because I wanted to write them and started writing them because I wanted to write things for other people, to make other people happy, and so that they could tell me that I’m not a shit writer at all.

I should make it clear that I do intend to write my JB fic swap thing FOR SURE. I will drag that story out of myself no matter what. But in general it’s probably just healthier for me to not spend so much time On Here especially, and on fic in general.

[radramblog]

A handful of hot cardboard takes

So due to having assignment work to do and a relatively busy day tomorrow, I’m going to be writing both today and tomorrow’s blog articles tonight. Unnnnfortunately, it’s approaching 11PM, and I haven’t even figured out what I’m writing this one about- it has to be relatively short, since I don’t have that much time, and I want the tomorrow one to be an album, and that always takes time, and ehhhh…

I guess it’s been a hot second (read: a week exactly) since I talked about Magic, so that’ll do. But what specifically?

I mean, I guess there’s these new spoilers to go on about. I guess I’m hotting some takes.

First of all, we have the D&D set, Adventures in the Forgotten Realms. I feel like this set’s creation was inevitable. WoTC has had D&D and Magic for decades now, and the only crossover we got was the Un-Card Sword of Dungeons and Dragons? And yet fucking Walking Dead got a whole-ass secret lair? Yeah no way this wasn’t happening. So far we only have 5 cards, so one by one I suppose.

Tiamat was obviously going to be a thing, but she feels exceptionally underwhelming. Admittedly, cramming her massive list of abilities and flavour into one 2.5 by 3.5 inch card was going to be difficult, but this is just meh. She finds five dragons, whoop de fucking do. This is never going to see any play outside of Commander, and I can’t imagine picking her to lead your 5-colour Dragons deck above The Ur-Dragon, it’s Scion, or even Morophon. And, I’m all for underrated jank commanders, but I also don’t like tutors, and if you’ve ever resolved Conflux (which this kinda feels like) you know it can be a huge pain. A solid Meh/10. I do like that they didn’t give her an epithet, though.

The Vorpal Sword is actually pretty sick. Not only is it a cheap coloured equipment that slots great into Black/X Voltron Commander lists, not only is it an alternative wincon that isn’t complete shit but also requires going all in and is very interactable, but I actually think this has a slot in cubes interested in Black Aggro, Black Artifacts, or both. The arts for this card look sick aas hell, and I’m extremely interested in seeing in snicker-snack someone to death.

I was wondering whether or not Halfling was going to be a creature type, and that question got answered fairly quick. Citizen on the typeline is interesting considering it’s only been seen on 4 token producers so far (and also Mobilized District becomes one), and the recent Edgewall Innkeeper being a peasant. I guess this guy is too prosperous for the peasantry.

Oh, the card itself? Well, I was never a fan of Wily Goblin, but I don’t really think that’s why we’re here. This charming fellow is a second Green Soul Sister, supporting the Witherbloom lifegain archetype from Strixhaven, and it’s nice to see colours other than White (and occasionally, Black) get to do life things. It’s always been secondary (tertiary? They don’t get lifelink) in green, or only on shite cards, so it getting pushed is an interesting twist.

It is an utter tragedy that you can put a Bag of Holding in a Portable Hole in Magic now, and it doesn’t even do anything. I get the feeling this is going to be either everywhere or nowhere, though I’m leaning towards the latter. Any permanent type is really nice, but 2 or less is restrictive enough that this misses way more often than you’d like. But, if it ends up being good, you’re going to see a lot of Portable Holes exiling Portable Holes, and that’s just kinda funny.

Isn’t there supposed to be a colon in there? This is just a more splashable, flavour-twisted variant of Victim of Night- though that card ends up being one of the best Terrors Mono-Black gets to run, out of a long long list. This, unfortunately, is a bit worse than that is in competitive formats, and considerably worse in EDH where giant Angels, Demons, and Dragons are often the targets you want to tell to die. I’m just going to stick with Doom Blade. And Go for the Throat. And Snuff Out and Hero’s Downfall and Victim of Night and Heartless Act and

So, I actually really like these basics, but specifically for this set. Box text is an essential part of D&D, and putting it on the basics is just a lovely bit of flavour. I don’t know if they’ve said whether every basic variant is going to have this, but I kinda hope they do. The art for these is top fucking notch, too. I’m not convinced this should be a permanent thing though.

 But of course, that’s not the only set we have spoilers for, because Magic Spoiler Season is a sine wave of hype now and it will never end. Modern Horizons 2: because the first one didn’t fuck enough formats up. That’s not very fair, that set was cool as fuck, but in my eyes that’s for the kookier designs rather than the bonkers powerful shit. More Throes of Chaos, less Hogaak. Anyway, we’ve got 3 new cards and some reprints, so let’s get into them.

I’m really not sure how to feel about this art, but hey, that’s just my opinion. Brainstone is a solid role-player in all sorts of artifacty, eggsy decks, probably the best Egg we’ve seen in a while. It’s going right in my Radha deck, I’ll tell you that much. Considering how expensive the worst card ever made, Sensei’s Divining Top, is getting, having a colourless topdeck manipulation option that’s likely not too spenno is nice, even if it’s a oneshot. I like it.

Oh, haha, it’s Lion’s Eye Diamond but they drew the rest of the fucking Lion. While this looks absolutely gorgeous, it doesn’t go into Cat tribal, and I’m not that much of a degenerate, so meh. For real though, this doesn’t actually look broken to me- LED is powerful because it’s a lotus, whereas this takes that and makes it a slow, multi-turn Pyretic Ritual. I also don’t think having an LED effect in Modern does much for the format, so. Eh?

Ok, here’s the one everyone’s talking about. Urza’s Saga is such a slam-dunk on a meta level. It’s a card named after a set, a fun reversal of Time Spiral block all being named after cards, and considering Modern Horizons was basically Time Spiral 2 I wouldn’t be surprised if MH2 was TSP3. It’s also an Enchantment Land but doesn’t look like it, referencing the fact that Urza’s block was actually Enchantment Matters but no-one remembers that because basically none of those cards were the good ones. This card is blatantly powerful, and I wouldn’t be shocked to see it pop up in a loooot of decks in various formats. In commander, this is a land for 3 turns that then turns into a Sol Ring, while also maybe making you a token or two and maybe even finding a weird hate piece or combo machine (…or Top) instead. In Modern or Legacy, it tutors for all sorts of nonsense, while making potential threats for artifact decks in the land slots. This card, while slow, has potential to be patently absurd, and it wouldn’t surprise me if it was banned in at least one format by the end of the year. We’ll see which ones.

Counterspell in modern is something a very specific group of people were counting for. Personally, it’s not the vintage spell I would have been hyped for, I was wanting Swords, but here we are. I almost feel, however, that Counterspell’s potential in Modern has been wasted at this point. Like, how many decks are even running Mana Leak these days? And how many of those decks want to be holding up UU on turn 2? Because in a fast format like this, Mana Leak might as well be Counterspell most of the time. The new art is baller, ill give it that.

I…don’t know enough about how this card is in Legacy Death and Taxes to know how well it would be in Modern Death and Taxes. It seems pretty good? I like that they’re doing old-border reprints again, though, that was like the only good thing behind Time Spiral Remastered.

Fucking Finally. With that said, I’m not convinced that finally reprinting these fetches is going to keep the price down much, and for long- the Horizon lands from MH1 see a fair bit less play, and they are creeping up to $20 a pop for some of them at this point. I guess if you need them, buy them now, because they aren’t going to stay low. It’s going to take more than a single reprint in a premium product before I’m satisfied in the reprint quality.

 Anyway, that’s the lot of them. My takes on these cards was probably a bit chiller than what you’d see from someone who’s actually in the know of competitive formats these days, but if you came here for serious analysis, then I’m not sure what to tell you. More well-thought-out Magic talk, uhh, next time I talk about Magic.