#criticism of um actually

[yuleshootureye]

I'm been binging "Um, Actually", because I love trivia shows, but also I don't know how much I can trust their trivia because apparently their researchers somehow got so turned around that they thought a fanon last name from one particular fic series was Tobias Animorph's last name. Either they don't bother checking their sources, or they are very bad at research.

I've mostly forgiven them for, IIRC, saying "Rocky Horror Picture Show" when they should have said "Rocky Horror Show", but that entire "Tobias Santorelli" question felt like it was written by someone unfamiliar with the series, delivered by a host unfamiliar with the series, to contestants unfamiliar with the series. I just watched the clip of the question and it was a painful viewing experience.

Anyway, I've queued up an episode with Animorphs in the title, so we'll see if they can redeem themselves.

[megaerakles]

To Whom It May Concern

Tim couldn’t stay. 

No matter what Bruce had said when he caught Tim in the act of laying the paper trail to establish his Fake Uncle, no matter how long Dick had sobbed into the phone at him during an inordinately expensive long distance (read: off planet) phone call, no matter how much Alfred had been fussing over him and insisting it was no trouble at all to care for him since Tim’s scheme had been revealed and promptly foiled, it just didn’t change the fact that Tim couldn’t stay. Truthfully, the Wayne family’s apparent sudden burst of affection for him actually made this whole thing worse because somewhere along the way, without even trying, Tim had failed to keep things wholly professional between them and somehow tricked them into thinking he belonged in their family! 

He couldn’t let it stand. For the sake of Jason’s memory, for the sake of preserving the sanctity of the true Wayne family, he had to stop this… this absurdity of pretending that Tim belonged with them from continuing! Tim had to run. Tim had to vanish. It was the only way to make things right again. Sure, the thought of never seeing any of them again, the thought of being done with Bruce and Alfred and Dick and Barbara and everyone in his life he currently held dear once and for all made it feel as though his heart was being ripped out of his chest only to be shoved back down his throat to stop the flow of air into his body—but it didn’t matter. He didn’t matter, not nearly as much as they did. This would be for their own good. 

Tim was leaving, and it turned out to be easier than he thought it would be in the end. Not emotionally easier, but logistically easier. Bruce had been extra attentive lately, so he thought he’d have to fake an injury and get ‘benched’ so that they would lower their guard long enough for him to slip away. But by some divine stroke of luck, a new player had waltzed onto Gotham’s criminal scene not too long after Tim’s Fake Uncle plan fell through and started making threats against Batman and Robin. They had apparently freaked B out enough to prompt him to send Tim off to Titan’s Tower to ‘focus on his team for awhile’. Tim had accepted the command with the requisite amount of complaint, planted some fake texts to make it look like he’d actually communicated to his Team that he would be there, shoved everything from his guest room in the Manor that he couldn’t bear to part with into a duffel bag underneath a spare uniform, gave Bruce what only he knew was a more emotionally charged nod goodbye than usual, and then poof. Tim Drake was zapped out of the Batcave for the last time ever. 

He let himself have one night in the Tower. Partly to catch a few hours of sleep in a familiar and secure environment, but mostly so he could clean up his room for its next occupant, sweep his belongings and his person for any extra trackers, and repack his bag more efficiently. He also took the time to grab a spare backpack and fill it up with emergency rations. While he was taking plenty of cash, he didn’t want to risk having to go into stores with security cameras for a while, at least until he’d cleared a suitable distance from San Francisco proper as well as implemented the first of his many planned disguises. He didn’t think a bottle of cheap hair dye and some colored contacts would be enough to fool Oracle indefinitely, but if he was appropriately cautious it might keep her from getting a confirmation of his location long enough for the Bats to either get bored looking for him or to actually realize they were better off without him around. 

When the early rays of dawn started to bathe the sides of Titan’s Tower in ember colored light, he was off. He left behind seven trackers pulled from his clothes and bag and one more from behind his ear; he’d kept the one he noticed in his favorite pair of sneakers because it was a type that wouldn’t start transmitting data until the Bats actively started tracking it and he was hoping to find someone who wore his size at the bus station he could pay to wear them so he could throw them off for even longer. If all else failed, he would just toss them in an out of the way trash can. He had also left a letter of resignation for Batman that he’d whipped up based off of an online template, signed and sealed and awaiting discovery atop the pillow in his nearly empty dorm room (he had tried for something more personal, a longer note of explanation for Bruce about why he couldn’t stay despite being asked, but—the words just wouldn’t come, and he’d been running out of time). His bag was heavy, courtesy of all of the extra supplies he’d grabbed in anticipation of having to evade not only Batman’s team but the rest of the Justice League. His heart was heavy, courtesy of emotional baggage that he wished was as easy to unpack as his actual bags would be when he finally found somewhere to settle. 

He boarded the first bus he saw after he’d gone a few blocks and took a seat towards the back, where he leaned against the window and stared back at the iconic giant T that he used to belong in, however briefly, until it disappeared from sight. And just like that, Tim Drake’s life as Robin was over. 

—

To Whom It May Concern:

This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately. 

Thank you so much for the opportunity to work with you all for the past three years. I’ve enjoyed getting to know the team and appreciated the opportunity to learn about vigilantism and hone my detective skills. I’m excited to take these skills with me as I pursue the next step of my career.

During the past two weeks, I have done everything possible to wrap up any ongoing cases and leave no unfinished business. The Robin suit as well as my spare have been cleaned and placed in the armory of Titan’s Tower along with any gear I have been issued. 

I wish Batman and team the best, but am afraid I will be out of contact for the foreseeable future. 

Sincerely, 

T. J. Drake

—

Red Hood stalked into Titan’s Tower with all the grace of a wildcat closing in on its prey, his vicious smirk hidden by his helmet, his unauthorized entrance hidden by virtue of the heroes’ own stupidity in failing to remove his codes from the database. Seriously—he’d thought gaining entry into their so-called fortress would be the hardest part of this little trip, and had only tried his access codes for the sake of checking the most stupidly obvious Plan A off his list! For them to work, to realize that there was nothing truly separating the precious sidekicks from the wrath of a vengeance minded crime lord, well… it sure made the message he was about to send feel all the more poignant. 

He had come equipped to subdue an entire horde of Teeny Titans without hurting them (much), but to his surprise, the tower was empty of kid sidekicks despite Robin having been sent to work with his team yesterday afternoon, a fact Jason had gleaned last night from listening to the mind numbing chatter of Nightwing being bored on a stakeout and wanting to chat with anyone over the comms Jason had hacked into. Which he’d done in order to better plan his aggressive takeover of Crime Alley, not because he missed hearing his family’s voices. Nope. 

(Since coming back to Gotham, it had been more difficult than he anticipated to stick to the plan when some part of his mind still stubbornly clung to those foolish, childhood dreams of belonging and family and a father who gave a shit and things like that, and kept popping up with annoying questions like ‘what if he revealed his identity to Dick or Alfred or someone just to see if maybe Talia had been right and they’d want him back after all. Clearly, the existence of a new Robin meant that they’d never really given a damn about him, so he was going to go through with this thing, just watch him.)

Truly this had to be fate, because the path to Robin was practically unfolding before him with no barriers. All that was left to do was find where in this gigantic clubhouse the itty little birdie was nesting. Jason tried the common room first. Then the kitchen. Then the rec room. And then the training floor. And the med bay. And then the armory, where he found Robin’s suit, but no actual Robin. He supposed the next place to check would be Robin’s bedroom, because even though it was well past eleven, Drake was a teenager and could conceivably be sleeping in, especially since there was no Alfred around to rouse him at a reasonable hour. Luckily, the doors on the floor with sleeping quarters were all clearly marked with either the name or symbol of the person it belonged to, so it was easy enough to find the one with that all too familiar stylized ‘R’. Jason paused to take a steadying breath before gritting his teeth and deciding to really make an entrance by kicking down the door. 

…To an empty bedroom. Like, not just devoid of Tim Drake, but also devoid of books, trinkets, photos, decoration, clothes, dishes, mess, et cetera, et cetera. It looked as clean and sterile as a hotel room, and if Jason hadn’t literally just seen Robin’s insignia on the door he would think he’d entered an unassigned room by mistake. He frowned and yanked off his helmet, as if looking with his own two eyes would suddenly change the scene, but no. Nothing. He strode into the room and yanked open the closet—empty. He walked over to the desk and yanked open the top drawer—empty. He yanked open the bottom drawer, and mostly empty except for—wait, was that a pile of deactivated Bat trackers? Fucking bizarre. When he stood up, he glanced around again, and this time something on the bed caught his eye. It had been easy to miss against the white pillowcase, but there was an envelope tucked up against the pillow. With a scowl, he stalked over and grabbed it. 

When Jason flipped it over, he noted that it was addressed to Batman, but decided that since he was a crime lord now he didn’t have to care about something as trivial as opening someone else’s mail. He didn't want to take off his gloves and risk leaving prints on anything, so he pulled out a dagger and used it to slice open the envelope. As he flipped it over to dump its contents on the desk, he had the fleeting thought that he probably should have put back on his mask in case this had been some villain’s ploy to poison Batman, but luckily all that fell out was a single sheet of printer paper folded into thirds. 

This he was careful not to damage as he unfolded it. It wasn’t a long note, just a few small paragraphs, so it was quick enough to read: To whom it may concern. This letter is to formally notify you that I’m resigning as Robin in Gotham City, effective immediately… 

Jason dropped the letter and took a step back, staring at the innocuous piece of paper with wide eyes and racing thoughts. Robin had—Drake wasn’t—Timothy—the kid, he was quitting? Leaving? Gone? 

It could be a trap. It probably was a trap. Except Robin shouldn’t have had any way of knowing Red Hood would be able to track him all the way to Titan’s Tower so why would he have set a trap for him in the first place? A trap for someone else, then? If it was, it was really, really stupid of him because the kid had signed his resignation letter from Robin with his actual name, and surely he wouldn’t have made it this far if he were that careless with his identity. So, it was either a very bad trap, or not a trap at all. And if it was not a trap at all, then… 

Then Robin had… resigned. Which, ok, Jason’s stated goal coming into this thing was to get Tim Drake to stop being Robin. So he should be happy about this, right? Except he’d not gotten to toss the kid around and work out his aggression at all so there was no satisfaction in it. Also, the timing was fucking obnoxious. Go figure that the very day he decides to do something about his replacement, the kid decides to peace out of the Gotham vigilante scene and… and go… 

… Somewhere. Jason had no idea where Tim Drake would go if he were no longer Robin. Given how he’d waited until he was alone and then left the note to be found on the other side of the country, Jason had a sneaking suspicion that returning to Gotham was currently off the table. The letter had said he would be ‘out of contact’ for the foreseeable future; Jason could read between the lines enough to figure out that meant he was running away. 

—Which, fuck. Another Robin was running away from Batman because of… well, Jason didn’t know what this kid’s issue with B was, but there were plenty of potential flaws in the man to choose from so Jason was going to play it safe and assume it was something Bruce did. Clearly, the man could never learn. And now, this poor dumb Robin was going to pay the price! Jason was more than familiar with the number of horrors that awaited kids who ended up on their own. He could starve; he could freeze to death; he could catch some disease like the flu, or get cut on a rusty nail and get tetanus, and then die from it because he couldn’t access medical treatment. He could get mugged, or harassed by cops, or snatched up by traffickers, or—

And fine; Jason himself had meant to hurt him. But that had been for ideological purposes, to prove a point about putting children in danger and not taking good enough care of them and stuff. It wasn’t like he was going to hurt him that badly, just bad enough to freak out Bruce a bit. But Jason was also the Red Hood, and the Red Hood’s mission was to do what was necessary to stop awful shit from happening to vulnerable kids. And this stupid, stupid letter was apparently enough to abruptly transfer Timothy Drake into that category in his head. 

Everything Jason had heard about the kid said he was smart, and the timing of his disappearance pointed to some thoughtful planning on his part. Jason could imagine that the little shit had some sort of plan in place to evade Batman’s attempts to locate him, and he probably could manage to run without getting caught by Bruce and the Gotham team for a while. Heck, the kid probably had strategies to get away from most if not all of the Justice League members, since B was sure to call in favors once he got frantic enough about the little bird. But one thing the kid likely did not plan for was being pursued by him. Ex-Robin, currently a crime lord, League of Assassins connections, and a bone to pick with Timothy specifically? (He ran away from home and left a fucking resignation letter about it? Does he not realize what that would do to Dick, to Alfred, to Bruce—)

After stuffing the letter into his pocket, Jason put back on his helmet and stalked out of Titans Tower as silently as he’d arrived, this time with a new yet equally furious purpose sharpening his steps. Sucked to be Timothy Drake, he thought, because the Red Hood got his message and he was officially concerned. 

[aeruthien]

I love how Marisha set up Laudna going after the sword in this ep.

In a blink it or you miss it moment, even played out a little jokingly, Laudna calls out Orym leaving with Otohan's blade when he goes outside.

Then after a small interlude of beacon talk and Orym getting used to the blade, we cut back to Laudna casting Animate Object on her puppets. Mimicking what she did when she was alone, losing herself in the project.

Orym, Fearne and Dorian have their moment, and Matt transitions into closing off the day. During this time, Orym has kept the blade on his back, so Fearne, Imogen, Chet and Laudna all had time to interrupt or challenge his decision when they were all awake.

But Marisha explicitly waits until they are all asleep to make her move. And initially, it might not even have been truly about getting it, but just about the hurt it has caused. But of course Delilah buts in. Because that is what Marisha made Laudna to be. A dead girl with her murderer in her head.

And now the dead girl gets out to play >:)

[magicallarynx]

it is truly outrageous soulmate behavior for Liam and Sam to go on a competition game show… and somehow manage to tie

[parsnip-problems]

I desperately need um actually to have Matt Mercer Brennan and Murph on expect all the statements are about dimension 20, critical role, or NadPod see how well they know they’re own worlds!!!!!

Yes it’s totally fab service I don’t care I wanna see Matt mess up something about Exandrian lore

[sea-buns]

Holy fuck, man. What a trip Fearne has been on, huh?

You tell her how grateful you are to have her in your life, you flatter her, you tell her you need her, that you have to do this together. You have her make a promise that has this woman, born of chaos and fey, agreeing through shaking hands and a trembling voice.

You make her deceive your friends; you make her follow where they cannot know; you make her help you into this contraption; you make her feed this thing into you despite the fact that you both have been warned extensively of the risks. You make her watch you crumble and splinter and shatter and fracture and burst and implode. You make her watch you die, over and over and over and over, for a minute in agonizing bullet time.

You make her do all these things, because when she tries to back out, when she tries to not be the one who let you do this—how could you do this—

you tell her, "YOU PROMISED."

Because if there's one thing you know, it's that the fey do not break a promise.

[rainybearstudio]

Say hi, intrepid heroes!

rainybearstudio.com

[wizardsix]

is it just me or is bioware spoiling way too much about the game . talking about gameplay improvements is one thing but revealing story and companion arcs seems very insecure to me bc now the mystery is gone when people play for the first time . seems like they're trying too hard to prove that their game isn't garbage after that first trailer but this is not how you do that

[caracello]

finally got the time to put down my critrole c3 self insert, deimos dustbit! lun is a half-fairy moon cleric that worships ruidus and is feeling really okay and normal with the recent lore developments surrounding ruidus (lie). eternal little sibling complex. imagine if t‌im dra‌ke was worse. she's shipped with prism + has a crush on laud‌na, imo‌gen, and fearn‌e!

[theflikchic]

I'm such a dick because I saw that apple on Lucifer's hat and my theology studying ass went "IT WASN'T A DAMN APPLE". I haven't even seen the show, I'm just a Christian version of the 🤓 at the worst times ever.

[jareicanon]

I don’t know what I’m doing for the record I’ve never tried animating before but I got An Urge to try it bc I have had this silly little idea in my head for over two weeks now…

…and now it’s 4am. What do I have to show for it?

Well, my dear mutuals/friends, I present to you, my wip:

this is literally 7 frames looped I wanna cry it’s been 6-7 hours :’)

well.

it’s been 6 hours but there was a period where i lost most of the entire thing and something hadn’t connected either so there were no backups and GRAAGGGHDHDHWJJD

basically I am still redoing frames bit by bit, frame by frame bc :) something :) corrupted :)

I :) want :) to :) die :) !!!

annoying! but i’m having fun with it hehe

it’s nowhere close to finished (compared to what I have in my head as The Idea), but yikes. who knows if i will get that done because!!! my attention span is awful LOL

let me know if you like it (?) or if you have any tips or suggestions AT ALL I am desperate and Do Not Know What I Am Doing!!

[grayintogreen]

Truly the most reboot truth of REverse is putting Fan Favorite Gail in it despite her not even existing in the main narrative.

[navree]

i'm not a book purist, never have been, i've been fine with a lot of changes made from the f&b source material for the show (i'm a rhaenicent girlie, so like duh) but i can't really take the "how can you be mad that the show changed stuff, f&b is a history book so obviously some things just got muddied up" take is that westeros isn't real.

f&b is written as a history book in its format, with different viewpoint represented by different characters, but it's still, functionally, a novel. this is not an actual collection of historical texts where conflict reports are being generated and things have been lost to decay, this is a fictitious work written by author george raymond richard martin and published by bantam books/penguin random house. george created the entire thing out of whole cloth, he is not re-cataloguing existing historical information about any real time period. he wrote a story, and he made choices for that story about what would be most narratively compelling and what works better in a fictional setting. maegor is a monster because it was the most narratively compelling choice. rhaena the queen in the east had the life that she did because it was the most narratively compelling choice. blood and cheese went down as described because it was the most narratively compelling choice. george, as a writer, made a calculation of "what would be the most engaging story to tell here that also gets my thematic statements across for this particular section", and wrote accordingly.

and sometimes, when you deviate from those choices, you are creating a less engaging story and moving away from the themes that also helped make that story more interesting. and it is perfectly acceptable to critique those writing choices within an adaptation and say that changes have weakened the narrative, because this isn't real. none of this happened, none of this ever existed, f&b being formatted as a history book makes for a great analytical exercise as well as for some fun metas (you guys know i love the ambiguity of stuff when it comes to the conquerors) and makes for an interesting reading experience when you are presented with conflict evidence and have to parse out which version you think is more likely. but it's still fake. it's still one creative work, that in this case is being adapted into another creative work, and sometimes it is being adapted badly.

[deiscension]

I'll take "posts that aren't about SQX but also are completely about them too" for 500

[captainofthetidesbreath]

I am just so obsessed with Chetney and Ira reacting to Ludinus saying he witnessed the Calamity:

Chetney 🤝 Ira I have also lived a long time, and that sounds implausible.

[jrueships]

What are the psychosexual consequences of the twolves dominance right now

mmm.. i have been Chewing on this...

for quite some time .

so this is a thought i have always had tbh. These playoff results so far have just been bolstering my confidence in it.

Ant and Kat's love is loud love.

The Suns love is no love. Not that they dont have any love At All, because they do. But for each other? Im not so sure. The Suns is Men doing it all for the image of finally being champions so they can prove themselves to the people OUTSIDE their team.

The nuggets is domestic love. It's quiet, it's comfortable, it's won a championship, it's retired love. Retired does Not mean dead, it does not mean completely inactive, it means slower moving, at a personal pace, enjoying what you find to be the thing you wouldn't mind dying doing. Jokic and Jamal don't have to say they're in love 24/7 to let us know they're in love. Jokic doesn't have to talk about horses all the time to reporters for reporters to find out how much he actually does from him always going back to visit them. It's quiet, but it's so strong that it doesn't have to be anything but quiet to know

The mavs is a love built on respect. Wordless, they know they can depend on the other no matter what troubles the other may be dealing with or how much is happening, they Know someone will always be there to get the job done. They KNOW it's not a waste, whatever they're doing .

Kat Needs positive reinforcement, reminisces on it, dreams for it, grows restless and angered without it. Gets real self-conscious and starts faking everything to seem like he has everything so people can start treating him like he's not just some everybody in the world, but a SOMEbody in the world, someone whose opinions, thoughts, actions, and.. possibly most importantly.. WORDS will always be remembered as a meaningful contribution to the world.

Ant is a people pleaser. But he's not the meek, 'let your favorite teacher pronounce your name wrong until the grave' people pleaser where it can be pointed out as a problem, he's a Clever one. He's the kind of people pleaser who can step into a room and spotlight the targets that need the most self-value.. all so He can assure his Own self-value, and protect it. Because, ultimately, the phrase 'everybody loves Anthony edwards' is all about Anthony Edwards, which should be obvious, right? The answer's smack dab in front of your face, but the Confidence. The charisma of it all. Covers it. Conceals it just briefly, just enough for him to get away with it. Ant always knows what to say without even thinking twice. He's such a charmer. Except he's not. He's Always thinking, always brewing up the best ways to become a spectacle. Why even video himself saying that slur shit in the first place? Why not just keep that between him and his friend in the car like probably a good chunk other basketball players do ( because let's be honest. These are probably pretty straight men. They hate people like us. )

He can't. That wouldn't give him the best results in the kind of satisfaction he craves, which is all self based, when boiled down. He HAS to not only impress his one friend in the car with his in power teasing of others who don't even have a clue, he has to try and impress Everyone that he's included in his circle, and he just accidentally included the wrong crowd in that.

Ant and kat together are just two self-conscious people who like being together so they don't feel like they're two self-conscious people who like being together. Love can come in multiple forms, but, in my opinion, love oftentimes needs multiple forms to be at its strongest. When you pour all your love into one bucket, it leaves the others hollow. Love can be quiet, and it can be loud, it can be through words, through actions, through the easy times, AND the hard times, it is love.

I like to call Kat and ant the warped jaren and ja bcs unlike jaren and ja where it can all get spoiled from jaren saying something stupid like 'i love you' when they ARE in love and are just uncomfortable saying it, kat and ant NEED to say they're in love so they can feel like they aren't in it. It being Actual love, deep love that requires more than just pretty words and over-the-top compliments and sayings and comparisons and declarations. Actual love like ant going to kat's house and bringing the rest of the team because he knows kat misses having a stable family, hates the fact that something is missing and he'll never get it back.

Actual love like being awkward with each other

Which they Hate. Terribly. The two of them.

So they'll say how much they're in love with the other, how fondly they think about their memories, how they're so close. They'll tease and laugh and try to instruct the other. And the media laps it up, of course. Especially over the quiet love. It's just so boring in comparison.

Love is thrilling, and it is also boring. Like doing menial activities together like watching the news when you two could actually be the ones on it by doing something crazy together, but you don't, and you aren't, because you both agreed it's going to be a cozy day today where you'll both just be a cute pair of couch potatoes on a sofa watching TV together.

Ant and kat CANT be boring. They CANT just sit in that silence together. They have to say something. They have to know the other doesn't consider them a waste of their time because they don't have that same assurance in themselves.

Love is being scared.

Theyre not scared.

They can't Be scared.

Being down by 2 doesn't mean anything besides we'll bounce back. We're not scared about it. I played well, the shots just weren't falling, but i did good. We are doing good. We love each other. We swear.

We're not scared .

(TV loves confidence)

(Love loves fear)