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fishfingersandjellybabies · 4 years

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Still a Little Bit Yours (Part 1) - fic

Characters: Jon Kent, Damian Wayne, bit of Tim Drake and Maya Ducard Pairing: jondami Summary: Damian broke up with him, out of the blue. It didn’t make any sense. But, as it turns out, there’s a reason why it didn’t. A/N: Damian and Jon are in their mid-twenties and no longer go by Robin or Superboy (but not really Batman or Superman either, Tim’s last line is kind of a joke.) Title, and maybe vibe of this part, is based on ‘A Little Bit Yours’ by JP Saxe.

Part One | Part Two

The phone almost slipped from his fingers.

Damian…did Damian just say what he thought he said?

“…What?” He whispered near breathlessly. “W-what did you just say?”

“I said I think we should see other people.” Damian replied calmly. “It would be for the betterment of both of us.”

“Since when?” Jon snapped, anger flaring immediately, but instantly morphing into confusion and sadness. His heart breaking by the second.

They’d been together for three years. Secretly pined after each other for the two years prior to that. Had recently talked about moving in together. Had been happy.

Jon was so, so sure they’d been happy.

“Since…recently.” Damian hummed blankly. “I’ve been doing a lot of thinking.”

“And the thought of doing this in person didn’t occur to you in your fucking contemplation?” Jon snapped. “Christ, Damian, we were just talking about getting an apartment!”

“I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know this isn’t what you want.” There was a hint of regret in Damian’s voice, but not enough for Jon’s liking, so it only fueled his growing anger further. “I…I don’t know what else to say.”

“Oh, really? Three fucking years and this is all you have to say?” Jon hissed. “I know you’re emotionally constipated, Damian, but…god. This is low. Even for you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“No, you’re not!” Jon shouted. A store clerk nearby glanced at him. And that was right, he was in the grocery store. He’d…forgotten. Forgotten the whole world existed, forgot it was collapsing around him by the second, as Damian hummed those words. “Because if you were sorry, you wouldn’t have fucking done it this way in the first place!”

He heard a mother a few aisles down murmur to her children to not use language like that. That people who talked like that were pathetic.

“I…I don’t know what your game here is, Damian.” He whispered harshly.

“It’s not a game.” Damian promised. “I respect you too much to play games with you. I’m just trying to be honest.”

“But you don’t love me enough to break up with me in person, apparently.” Jon countered. He closed his eyes, wouldn’t allow the tears to fall. “I…Damian, I’m going to hang up on you right now. I…I don’t want to say something I might regret.”

“That’s fine.” Damian promised. Then again: “I’m sorry, Beloved.”

Jon scoffed and pulled the phone away from his ear. He hit the call end button so hard the screen cracked under his touch.

…Great.

He stood there a moment, trying to take deep, even breaths. But it wasn’t working real well. Each breath was trembling, and it’s like his lungs suddenly didn’t work, couldn’t hold any air.

Did he do something wrong? Did he say something? They’d fought before, all couples do. They were getting better at communication, Damian was coming out of that emotional shell the League of Assassins put him in.

They’d kissed yesterday. Jon had held him in his arms, had kissed his nose and told him how beautiful his smile was. Damian had laughed and held Jon’s face, stroking his thumb along his cheek.

And now…now they were here?

“…Honey?” Jon jumped as a hand gently touched his elbow. He spun to find an old woman in an apron matching the store’s color scheme glancing up at him. “Are you okay?”

The world around him came whooshing back. He was in the middle of the grocery store. He…he was sobbing in the middle of the grocery store. Fat, ugly tears rolling down his face as he practically crushed his phone in his hand.

“Do you need me to call someone?” The woman whispered.

“No, I…” He gently placed his shopping basket – half full of this week’s groceries – on the floor and backed away. He clumsily ran his nose along his sleeve, a trail of snot left in his wake. “I’m alright. I’m…I’m sorry.”

He turned and barely stopped himself from flying out of the store.

Jon laid in bed for two days, exhausting himself racking his brain, trying to figure out what happened, what changed, what he did.

He texted Damian, almost exactly twenty-four hours after the fateful call, but the other never answered. Never answered any text Jon sent. Or any call that he drunkenly made after that. Didn’t even give him the knowledge of being left on read.

He cried a few times, threw things a few other times.

None of this made any sense.

He thought about going over to Gotham. Walking up to the manor and banging on the door until someone answered. Thought about staging a protest until Damian agreed to see him, if the door answerer wasn’t said boyfriend.

…Ex-boyfriend.

Tears welled up in his eyes every time he thought of the term.

Ex. Boyfriend.

Jon closed his eyes, buried his face in his pillow. Honestly, he thought they were going to get married. He thought they were going to be together forever. He wasn’t ready to plan a life without Damian, not yet. They were supposed to grow old together, die minutes apart like in the movies. Holding hands until the end.

He didn’t lose Damian to death, like he always thought he would. He didn’t lose Damian to space or assassins or even to grief in the potential loss of Bruce or Dick. He lost Damian because Damian…simply didn’t want him anymore.

God. They weren’t supposed to break up after three years. They weren’t supposed to part ways in their twenties. They weren’t supposed to end things for no reason.

He thought he’d gotten pretty good at reading Damian. His ticks, his quirks. What upset him, what didn’t. He thought he was an expert. The world’s leading expert in Damian Wayne.

Apparently he was fooling himself.

He sighed, pressed his face further into the fabric of his pillow. Tried to ignore the memories threatening to overflow. Of he and Damian in this bed. Kissing, cuddling, lazing. Of Jon promising Damian the whole world, and Damian countering with the whole universe instead.

He wondered if he should call Kathy. Or Maya. Hell, one of Damian’s siblings. See if Damian had talked to them, if they had seen any signs. If they knew of anything going on.

He just burrowed under his covers, and kept his eyes closed.

In the end, he didn’t tell anyone about the breakup. Not even his parents. There were intergalactic wars starting and government coups commencing – they had more important things to worry about than their youngest’s love life. And judging by the fact he hadn’t heard from any of the Bats, he had a feeling Damian didn’t mention it to his family either.

Just as well. They were adults. They could handle this as just that. Adults.

So he wallowed in self-pity for a few days, but eventually forced himself up. Took a deep breath, dried his own eyes and distracted himself with continuing his life. Focused on his job, on heroing. The world kept turning, even if he and Damian weren’t together.

His heart hurt less as the days passed on. Not by much, his heart was still utterly shattered after all, but it didn’t hurt as much to inhale. Didn’t hurt as much to smile. Didn’t hurt as much to get a text or a call and it not be Damian.

Damian never answered when Jon tried to contact him. The first few days were understandable, but now the texts were housekeeping. Do you want your shirt back? I think you left Alfred’s cat treats here. I have a box of your stuff and your apartment key, if you’re in town soon, you can stop by and get it.

And still, like always, nothing. Damian was always stubborn, but now he was just being downright rude. It’d been almost a month now! Surely if someone as emotional as Jon could somewhat start to get over it, someone as stoic as Damian had probably completely forgotten about it by now!

He huffed as he watched a couple walk by the park bench he was sitting on, taking the momentary surge of frustration-induced courage to hit the call button on his (recently fixed) phone and hold it up to his ear.

They wouldn’t have to talk. This was just tying up the loose ends. Getting rid of the sentimental things. Getting rid of things that didn’t belong to him. That was all. That was all.

But the line didn’t even ring. It went straight to voicemail. And the frustration turned to hurt. Did…did Damian change his number? No, impossible. It still went to Damian’s voicemail, his phone was just off.

But Damian never turned his phone off. No hero did, and especially no one in the Wayne family. They were always on call, even when they shouldn’t be.

So, for Damian’s phone to be off…was he avoiding someone? Avoiding Jon?

He lowered his phone to his lap and stared at it. He was one of those people who put emojis in people’s contact names. Damian’s name was surrounded by the pink, growing heart, and the cat emoji that looked like Alfred.

He didn’t have the strength to take those away. Not yet.

He swallowed the lump in his throat that he didn’t realize was there, and put his phone back in his pocket.

He’ll just ship Damian his shit, then.

He shouldn’t have. He really shouldn’t have. It’d make him the crazy ex. The ones Taylor Swift wrote songs about.

But at least once a day, he found himself listening. Tapping into his powers and listening for Damian’s heartbeat.

He didn’t do it often while they were together. Mostly because while together they were almost always together. Physically. So he could just reach out and hold Damian’s wrist. Put his ear to Damian’s chest. Watch the pulse as it beat along Damian’s neck.

It was a coping mechanism back then, used to calm himself. When the world got too much. When his day was bad. He could just focus on Damian’s heartbeat in any form. Drown the rest of the noise out.

Damian’s heartbeat now sounded far away, but Jon didn’t feel like pinpointing how far. It was slow and even, and that almost made him angry. Damian was calm. Damian was relaxed. Probably sitting at his easel drawing without a care in the world, while here Jon was listening for him like some kind of fucking lost puppy.

Every time he listened, it was slow and steady.

Stupid Damian, he’d think as he tuned his powers back out, furiously go back to whatever he was doing. Stupid relationships.

Relationships were overrated. Damian was overrated.

“He what?!”

Maya’s shriek had Jon pulling the phone away from his ear with an amused grimace. He laughed as he switched the audio to be on speaker, and absently opened an app on his phone.

(A…dating app.)

“You didn’t know?” Jon hummed. His friend had called to ask some questions on a man she was tracking, someone who rumours said was from another planet. Kathy hadn’t known of the solar system, so she was trying the next best alien. As they talked, something about a crime scene came up, and she asked if Damian could help, if Jon could give him the phone. He had to break the news. “I thought you guys talked like…every day.”

“No way.” Maya scoffed. “Once a month, if that.” Jon could hear the frown in her voice. “And we did talk about a month ago. Maybe a bit longer. He didn’t say anything. In fact, he told me you guys were going to move in together, that he wanted me to plan a trip back to the States for a housewarming party.”

“Well…life comes at you fast, I guess.” Jon chuckled bitterly, remembering that call. He was in the room for that call, dozing in Damian’s arms, half listening to their conversation. He sneered at the choices the app was giving him. None of them were very attractive. “Because about a month ago was when he called it off.”

“Huh.” Maya mumbled. “I’m so sorry, Jon. If I’d had known that’s what he was planning, I would have beat the shit out of him. You were the best thing to ever happen to him, for gods’ sake! What the hell did he willingly throw it all away for?!”

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Jon shrugged. This potential match wore a shirt that said Joker’s Biggest Fan on it, and Jon cringed instantly. “He didn’t give a reason. Just said that it was for the betterment of both of us, and that he was sorry.”

“Fucking turd.” Maya sighed. “I’ll call him here in the next few days, and see if he’ll tell me anything.”

“Good luck.” Jon drawled. “He hasn’t answered a single text or phone call since he broke things off. And I don’t know if that’s to just me or everyone.”

“You ask one of his brothers? Which one’s friends with your brother again? Jason?”

“Tim.” Jon corrected. He hesitated on this potential match option. Just stared. It was a woman. Dark hair, tan skin, standing in a desert. She was beautiful. And she reminded him of Damian. “And I haven’t seen or talked to any of them either. No cases have taken me out to Gotham lately.”

The next match had sharp eyes, ones that said they were smarter than everyone else. Cocky. That was like Damian too.

“Eh, they’d probably cover for him anyway. They’re all a bunch of freaks like that.” She grumbled. “Are you…doing okay?”

“I’m fine.” Jon lied, and he knew Maya heard right through it. “Time heals all wounds and all that. Better every day.”

“Oh, Jon…” Maya sighed sympathetically. Jon didn’t even have it in him to be embarrassed at her pity. Not when the next person on the app was standing on a rooftop, flag tied to his neck, blowing gloriously behind him. Looking far too much like every hero persona Damian’s ever been. “Hey – I’ll be back in the States soon. And I promise, I’ll make my first stop coming to see you so we can get drunk and stuff ourselves with pizza and scream about what an asshole Damian is. Okay?”

The next match was posed in the photo in a fencing match. Damian. The next surrounded by Great Danes. Damian. The next playing a violin. Damian. The next wearing a Batman costume at a Halloween party.

Damian.

Damian. Damian. Damian.

He sighed and closed the app. Stupid.

“Yeah. That sounds like exactly what I need, Maya.”

“Great. It’s a date.” She paused a moment. “Love you, dude.”

Jon hesitated, because he hadn’t said those words since Damian. Hadn’t thought them. Hadn’t wanted to think them, not for anyone. Not for family, not for friends. Not for a single person in his life. Still left in his life.

“Love you too, Maya.”

Jon wasn’t a dreamer. He didn’t know if it was his Kryptonian side, or just how he was, but he didn’t dream often. And if he did, if he remembered them, it was only flashes. Only later moments of déjà vu. Never full sequences. Never lucid.

But…this.

They were in Kansas, out in one of Pa’s fields, lying among the wheat. Damian was flat against the ground as Jon laid over him, kissing him as hard and deeply as he could. They both had their arms around the other, grips tight and unyielding. Like if one of them let go, the whole world would disappear.

He doesn’t know why, but it was a noise Damian made. A quiet moan, and his fingers digging desperately into Jon’s shoulders that snapped him out of it. Made him realize.

This wasn’t real.

He began to lean back, pulled his arms from Damian’s shoulders to steady himself. Damian shifted too, but only to hold Jon’s face, to try and chase his lips.

“No, I…” Jon stuttered, his body wanting to do just that. Dive back in and devour Damian whole. But his mind didn’t let him, forced him to continue back until he was on his knees. “We can’t.”

He got to his feet and backed up a step, half turning away. Couldn’t bear the sight of Damian lying in the dirt, shirt half open and hair disheveled, chest heaving from arousal and exertion. “…Jonathan?”

“You’re not real.” Jon almost whined, running his fingers through his hair.

“Is that so?” Damian scoffed. “Since when?”

“Since I know we haven’t been back to Kansas in like a year.” Jon sighed, turning back. “Since I just remembered you broke up with me.”

“Absurd.” Damian laughed. Jon glared down at him, watched as Damian stood, and wiped the dust from his butt. “I would never do such a thing.”

“Well…you did!” Jon spat. “And over the phone! Not even in person!”

“You’re not listening to me.” Damian scolded. He raised his sharp gaze. “I would never do such a thing.”

“…What?” Jon whispered incredulously. “I just…I just told you that you did! And I…” He snorted, shook his head. “You’re not even real. Why the hell am I even trying to argue with you?”

“Because despite what you tell those around you, you miss me.” Damian sauntered over to him with a smirk, and poked at his temple. “Now I need you to use that big brain of yours and focus on what I’m saying. What it means.”

Jon looked down sadly. Gently reached up to take Damian’s hand in his, and turned so he could kiss his palm, could hide his face against Damian’s hand.

Damian just smiled warmly, stepped closer into Jon’s space. Cupped his other hand around the side of Jon’s throat. “Please just remember.” He begged softly. “I would never do such a thing. Never.” He leaned up on his toes, and pressed their foreheads together. “Not to you, Beloved.”

Jon leaned into the gesture, and parted his lips to kiss Damian again.

But then he woke up.

He woke up in the dead of night, with tears streaming down his face, and the memory of the dream burning against his skull.

I would never do such a thing.

“But you did, Damian.” Jon sobbed, clutching his pillow, curling his knees to his chest. Because it felt like his heart was going to tumble out, all the pieces that it had shattered into were going to come spilling out onto his sheets. “You did.”

He didn’t go back to sleep.

Jon let out a low growl as he stomped out of the café. That was a bust. That was a huge fucking waste of his time.

But that’s what he got for trying to jump back into the dating pool.

The girl seemed nice enough in their limited texting interaction. She was cute and not purposefully looked nothing like Damian. She was bubbly and loud, and also not purposefully acted nothing like Damian either.

(Totally not purposefully. Totally.)

But he’d just spent the last hour listening to her rant about conspiracy theories that were already disproven one hundred times over, and rave about how Lex Luthor was the best and coolest and smartest person to ever exist, because he was rich and going to get them all to Mars. She never stopped to let Jon talk. Never stopped to take a breath for herself either.

Needless to say, there’d be no second date. He’d frankly excused himself with a lie to get out of this one early.

(And she’d already texted him about how great of a time she had, and she couldn’t wait to see him again, despite still sitting in the restaurant ten feet behind him.

Jon didn’t like to ghost people – not like certain ex-boyfriends of his – but this one…he couldn’t wait to.)

So it must have been fate that he chose that moment to leave. Not a few minutes before, or decided to suffer through the rest of his rendezvous. Because as soon as he walked out of the café, he spotted one Tim Drake coming out of the building across the street.

Funnily enough, Tim spotted him at almost the exact same moment. Except instead of waving or smiling like Tim normally would, his face visibly paled and his eyes widened, like Jon was the last person on Earth he wanted to see.

Jon frowned when he saw Tim glance around, like he was looking for an escape route. “Tim!” He called before the other could do just that, glancing up and down the street before jogging quickly towards him. “Hey, wait up!”

Tim took a step backwards, like he was going to try to bolt, but in the end stayed where he was, waited for Jon to reach him. Quickly pulled his phone out and scanned the screen before pocketing it again. “Hey Jon…what, uh. What’s going on? How are you?”

“Oh…been better. But trying to stay positive.” Jon laughed knowingly. Tim didn’t react. “How’s the family?”

“Good. Busy.” Tim shrugged. “Lots of, uh…stuff to do. You know how it is.”

Jon nodded, and the two fell into an awkward silence. Tim pulled his phone out again, but quickly threw it back in his pocket.

“How’s…” And Jon didn’t want to ask, but he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious. Wasn’t desperate to actually know, instead of guessing and assuming. “How’s Damian?”

But to Jon’s the surprise, at the sound of Damian’s name, Tim seemed to practically deflate. He threw his hands across his face, began shaking his head. “God, Jon, I’m so sorry. I know we should have called, or kept you in the loop or something. But we didn’t want you to become a target too or get hurt, or…”

“What?” Jon cut off, gut suddenly dropping. “What are you talking about?”

Tim peeked between his fingers, eyes narrowed. “…What are you talking about?”

“I…I haven’t talked to Damian since he broke up with me.” Jon murmured. Tim’s eyes instantly widened even more in surprise. “I just…wanted to know if he was doing okay?”

“Damian broke up with you?” Tim whispered. “When?”

“Um, I don’t know a month or so ago?” Jon shrugged. “Why? Tim, what’s going on?”

“How did he break up with you?” Tim demanded, suddenly all but lunging at Jon. His eyes darted between Jon’s desperately. “Was it in person?”

“No, it was over the phone.”

“What day?” Tim asked, almost giddy now. “What day did he break up with you, exactly? What day did you get that call?”

“Uh…” Jon pulled out his phone, and went to the call feature. He scanned the list until he found the one he was looking for. The one that ruined his whole life. “The seventh.”

“What time?”

“Like three or four in the afternoon?” Jon huffed. “Tim, why is this relevant? What happened?”

“Have you talked to him since then?” Tim continued, undeterred. “In any way? Text? Call? Carrier pigeon?”

“What? No! I…I tried calling him a few times, to return his stuff and all that, but he never answered.” Tim suddenly backed away from him, running both hands through his hair, like a case was just blown wide open. For the third time, Jon asked: “Tim, what the hell is going on?”

Tim hesitated for a moment, then looked Jon dead in the eyes. “Damian’s been missing for a month.” He said plainly. “He disappeared on the morning of the seventh.”

And just like that day on the phone, it felt like the world was being swallowed into a black hole beneath him. That the universe was disappearing around him, that it wasn’t real.

He could barely breath. “…What?”

“He, Duke and Cass were on a case in France. Without warning all three of them went radio silent. When we got there, we only found Duke and Cass half dead in a vineyard. They said they were attacked by a…a shapeshifter or something, lured them in by transforming into members of the Justice League. That they saw the shapeshifter and their crew dragging Damian away, but they didn’t see where to, or even what direction.”

Jon’s head was spinning.

“We’ve been looking for him day and night ever since. And when you didn’t come looking for him…” Tim winced. “We assumed he’d told you that he would be away on a mission, potentially for a long time. So your absence didn’t concern us. In fact, like I said, we were grateful. We didn’t want you getting wrapped up in this too, and potentially hurt.”

Jon was barely listening anymore, too wrapped up in what he’d just been told. That Damian had been missing since that day. That the reason Damian’s heartbeat sounded so far away was because he was, he was somewhere in Europe. That he wasn’t answering his phone because he was being held captive.

…That it wasn’t Damian on that call.

I would never do such a thing. Never. Not to you.

“…Beloved.” He murmured. Tim instantly stopped in his ramblings.

“…What?” Tim asked.

“On the call, when he broke up with me. First, he never gave a reason, which I thought was crazy. I guess…I guess it makes sense now.” Jon said thoughtfully. “But before we hung up. He said ‘I’m sorry, Beloved.’”

“…So?”

“That’s what Damian had me as in his phone. Not my name.” Jon explained. “Why would he still call me Beloved if he was breaking up with me?”

“…He would have said your name.” Tim said, the truth dawning on him. “The kidnapper wouldn’t know that. They wouldn’t know your name. So they called you what you were listed as.”

“And recognized that I was someone important to him.” Jon finished. “But…why? Why call me just to…break up with me? Why call me at all?”

“I don’t know. We can think about it later.” Tim was instantly back in detective mode, holding out his hand. “Give me your phone.”

“Why?”

“Because we can track where that phone call came from.” Tim wiggled his fingers impatiently. With his other hand, he pulled out his own phone, typing furiously with his thumb. Jon realized that’s why he was checking it so much, that’s why he was in Metropolis at all. He was looking for clues for Damian, anywhere he could. “And that might take us to where this bastard took my brother.”

“...Need a ride to the Batcave?” Jon asked with a sheepish smile. “…The sooner we get there, the sooner we can track this fucker and find Damian.”

Tim pursed his lips in thought, clearly not thrilled at the idea of including Jon, not after they all tried so hard to keep him detached, but eventually returned the grin.

“Get us in the air, Superman.”

#jonathan kent #jon kent #Damian Wayne #jondami #Tim Drake

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arcticdementor · 3 years

Link

The hilarious headline in the Daily Beast yesterday read like a cross of Clickhole and Izvestia circa 1937: “Is Glenn Greenwald the New Master of Right-Wing Media? FROM HIS MOUTH TO FOX’S EARS?”

The story, fed to poor Beast media writer Lloyd Grove by certain unnamed embittered personages at the Intercept, is that their former star writer Greenwald appears on, and helps provide content for — gasp! — right-wing media! It’s nearly the exclusive point of the article. Greenwald goes on TV with… those people! The Beast’s furious journalisming includes a “spot check” of the number of Fox items inspired by Greenwald articles (“dozens”!) and multiple passages comparing Greenwald to Donald Trump, the ultimate insult in #Resistance world. This one made me laugh out loud:

In a self-perpetuating feedback loop that runs from Twitter to Fox News and back again, Greenwald has managed, like Trump before him, to orchestrate his very own news cycles.

This, folks, is from the Daily Beast, a publication that has spent much of the last five years huffing horseshit into headlines, from Bountygate to Bernie’s Mittens to classics like SNL: Alec Baldwin's Trump Admits 'I Don't Care About America'. The best example was its “investigation” revealing that three of Tulsi Gabbard’s 75,000 individual donors — the late Princeton professor Stephen Cohen, peace activist Sharon Tennison, and a person called “Goofy Grapes” who may or may not have worked for Russia Today host Lee Camp — were, in their estimation, Putin “apologists.”

…

For years now, this has been the go-to conversation-ender for prestige media pundits and Twitter trolls alike, directed at any progressive critic of the political mainstream: you’re a Republican! A MAGA-sympathizer! Or (lately), an “insurrectionist”! The Beast in its Greenwald piece used the most common of the Twitter epithets: “Trump-defender.” Treachery and secret devotion to right-wing politics are also the default explanation for the growing list of progressives making their way onto Fox of late, from Greenwald to Kyle Kulinski to Aaron Mate to Jimmy Dore to Cornel West.

The truth is, Trump conservatives and ACLU-raised liberals like myself, Greenwald, and millions of others do have real common cause, against an epistemic revolution taking hold in America’s political and media elite. The traditional liberal approach to the search for truth, which stresses skepticism and free-flowing debate, is giving way to a reactionary movement that Plato himself would have loved, one that believes knowledge is too dangerous for the rabble and must be tightly regulated by a priesthood of “experts.” It’s anti-democratic, un-American, and naturally unites the residents of even the most extreme opposite ends of our national political spectrum.

…

Follow the logic. Isikoff, who himself denounced the Steele dossier, and said in the exchange he essentially agreed with Meier’s conclusions, went on to wonder aloud how right a thing could be, if it’s being embraced by The Federalist and Tucker Carlson. Never mind the more salient point, which is that Meier was “ignored by other media” because that’s how #Resistance media deals with unpleasant truths: it blacks them out, forcing reporters to spread the news on channels like Fox, which in turn triggers instant accusations of unreliability and collaborationism.

It’s a Catch-22. Isikoff’s implication is a journalist can’t make an impact if the only outlet picking up his or her work is The Federalist, but “reputable” outlets won’t touch news (and sometimes will even call for its suppression) if it questions prevailing notions of Conventional Wisdom.

These tactics have worked traditionally because for people like Meier, or myself, or even Greenwald, who grew up in the blue-leaning media ecosystem, there’s nothing more ominous professionally than being accused of aiding the cause of Trump or the right-wing. It not only implies intellectual unseriousness, but racism, sexism, reactionary meanness, greed, simple wrongness, and a long list of other hideous/evil characteristics that could render a person unemployable in the regular press. The label of “Trump-defender” isn’t easily removed, so most media people will go far out of their way to avoid even accidentally incurring it.

…

The consistent pattern with the Trump-era press, which also happens to be the subject of so many of those Greenwald stories the Beast and the Intercept employees are complaining about, is that information that is true but doesn’t cut the right way politically is now routinely either non-reported or actively misreported.

Whether it’s Hunter Biden’s laptop or the Brian Sicknick affair or infamous fictions like the “find the fraud” story, the public increasingly now isn’t getting the right information from the bulk of the commercial press corps. That doesn’t just hurt Trump and conservatives, it misinforms the whole public. As Thomas Frank just pointed out in The Guardian, the brand of politicized reporting that informed the lab-leak fiasco risks obliterating the public’s faith in a whole range of institutions, a disaster that would not be borne by conservatives alone.

But this is only a minor point, compared to the more immediate reason the constant accusations of treachery and Trumpism aimed at dissenters should be ignored.

From the embrace of oligarchical censorship to the aggressive hawking of “noble lies” like Russiagate to the constant humbugging of Enlightenment values like due process to the nonstop scolding of peasants unschooled in the latest academic jargon, the political style of the modern Democratic mainstream isn’t just elitist and authoritarian, it’s almost laughably off-putting. In one moment it’s cheering for a Domestic War on Terror and in the next, declaring war on a Jeopardy contestant flashing the “A-OK” sign. It’s Dick Cheney meets Robin DiAngelo, maybe the most loathsome conceivable admixture. Who could be surprised a politically diverse group finds it obnoxious?

During the Trump years conventional wisdom didn’t just take aim at Trumpism. The Beltway smart set used the election of Trump to make profound arguments against traditional tenets of democracy, as well as “populism,” (which increasingly became synonymous with “the unsanctioned exercise of political power by the unqualified”), and various liberal traditions undergirding the American experiment. Endless permutations of the same argument were made over and over. Any country in which a Trump could be elected had a “too much democracy” problem, the “marketplace of ideas” must be a flawed model if it leads to people choosing Trump, the “presumption of innocence” was never meant to apply to the likes of Trump, and so on.

…

By last summer, after the patriotic mania of Russiagate receded, the newest moral panic that the kente-cloth-clad Schumers and Pelosis were suddenly selling, in solidarity with famed progressive change agents like Bank of America, PayPal, Apple, ComCast, and Alphabet, was that any nation capable of electing Trump must always have been a historically unredeemable white supremacist construct, the America of the 1619 Project. The original propaganda line was that “half” of Trump supporters were deplorable racists, then it was all of them, and then, four years in, the whole country and all its traditions were deemed deplorable.

Now, when the statues of Washington, Jefferson, Lincoln and Roosevelt came down, there was a new target, separate and apart from Trump. The whole history of American liberalism was indicted as well, denounced as an ineffectual trick of the oppressor, accomplishing nothing but giving legitimacy to racial despotism.

The American liberalism I knew growing up was inclusive, humble, and democratic. It valued the free exchange of ideas among other things because a central part of the liberal’s identity was skepticism and doubt, most of all about your own correctitude. Truth was not a fixed thing that someone owned, it was at best a fleeting consensus, and in our country everyone, down to the last kook, at least theoretically got a say. We celebrated the fact that in criminal courts, we literally voted to decide the truth of things.

This new elitist politics of the #Resistance era (I won’t ennoble it by calling it liberalism) has an opposite view. Truth, they believe, is properly guarded by “experts” and “authorities” or (as Jon Karl put it) “serious people,” who alone can be trusted to decide such matters as whether or not the Hunter Biden laptop story can be shown to the public. A huge part of the frustration that the general public feels is this sense of being dictated to by an inaccessible priesthood, whether on censorship matters or on the seemingly daily instructions in the ear-smashing new vernacular of the revealed religion, from “Latinx” to “birthing persons.”

In the tone of these discussions is a constant subtext that it’s not necessary to ask the opinions of ordinary people on certain matters. As Plato put it, philosophy is “not for the multitude.” The plebes don’t get a say on speech, their views don’t need to be represented in news coverage, and as for their political choices, they’re still free to vote — provided their favorite politicians are removed from the Internet, their conspiratorial discussions are banned (ours are okay), and they’re preferably all placed under the benevolent mass surveillance of “experts” and “professionals.”

Add the total absence of a sense of humor and the inability of “moral clarity” politics to co-exist with any form of disagreement, and there’s a reason why traditional liberals are suddenly finding it easier to talk with old conservative rivals on Fox than the new authoritarian Snob-Lords at CNN, MSNBC, the Daily Beast or The Intercept. For all their other flaws, Fox types don’t fall to pieces and write group letters about their intolerable suffering and “trauma” if forced to share a room with someone with different political views. They’re also not terrified to speak their minds, which used to be a virtue of the American left (no more).

From the moment Donald Trump was elected, popular media began denouncing a broad cast of characters deemed responsible. Nativists, misogynists and racists were first in line, but from there they started adding new classes of offender: Greens, Bernie Bros, “both-sidesers,” Russia-denialists, Intellectual dark-webbers, class-not-racers, anti-New-Normalers, the “Substackerati,” and countless others, casting every new group out with the moronic admonition that they’re all really servants of the “far right” and “grifters” (all income earned in service of non-#Resistance politics is “grifting”). By now conventional wisdom has denounced everyone but its own little slice of aristocratic purity as the “far right.”

#matt taibbi #substack #glenn greenwald #journalism in action

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britesparc · 4 years

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Weekend Top Ten #467

Top Ten Romantic Couples in Superhero Movies (& TV)

It’s Valentine’s Day this weekend. Woo, I guess? I dunno. I’m not generally cynical about holidays but Valentine’s Day does seem to be entirely focused on selling cards without any of the associated pleasantries of, say, Christmas or Halloween. I’d rather just try to be nice to my wife all year round. At least because of the apocalypse all the restaurants are closed so we can’t be tempted to pay through the nose for a set menu. Anyway, it gives me a strained excuse to tie this week’s Top Ten to something vaguely romantic.

Superheroes are often horny. This seems to be a defining characteristic of the artform. Whether it’s their descent from ancient myths, or their creators’ origins in writing romance books, or just a function of genre storytelling in the mid-twentieth century, there’s quite a lot of romantic angst in superhero stories. Pretty much every superhero has a significant other; Lois Lane even got her own comic that was actually called Superman’s Girlfriend, Lois Lane. It’s hard to conceive of many heroes without their primary squeeze, and often – as we get multiple media adaptations of characters – we can add diversity or a twist to the proceedings by picking a lesser-known love interest, or one from earlier in the character’s fictional history; for instance, Smallville beginning with Cark Kent’s teenage crush Lana Lang, or The Amazing Spider-Man swapping out Mary Jane Watson for Gwen Stacey.

Anyway, I’m talking this week about my favourite superhero couples. I’ve decided to focus on superhero adaptations – that is, the characters from movies and films based on superhero comics or characters. I find this a little bit easier as I don’t have a phenomenal knowledge of sixty years of Avengers comics, but I have seen all the movies a bunch. As many comics as I’ve read, and as much as I love various ink-and-paper pairings, I can arguably talk more authoritatively about the fillums than the funny books. And let’s be real here, kids: my favourite comic book romantic couple is Chromedome and Rewind in Transformers. Also if I split them in two I can talk about comic couples next year. Woohoo!

It really is hard thinking of these things nearly nine years in, folks.

So! Here, then, are my favourite movie-TV Couples in Capes. Obviously there’s a fair bit of MCU in here. And I’ve been pretty specific about “superhero” romances: so no Hellboy and Liz Sherman, sadly (and I do really like them in the movies, of which they really need to make a third). Some are civvies-and-supes; some are capes-and-capes. You’ll work it out.

Superman & Lois Lane (Christopher Reeve & Margot Kidder, Superman, 1978): who else? The most famous romance in all of comics, a combo so strong it remains the focus of pretty much every interpretation of the character, but arguably never better than here; so good are Reeve and Kidder that their fast-talking banter and inherent goodness set the template for a huge swathe of other comic adaptations to follow. She’s sarky and streetwise; he’s gormless and good-hearted. She leaps in where angels fear to tread, he’s an invulnerable alien in disguise. They have buckets of chemistry and an utterly believable (tentative) romance. They’re perfect performances and the scenes of Clark in Metropolis for the first time (including Superman’s balcony interview with Lois) are the best bits of an already excellent film.

Raven & Beast Boy (Tara Strong & Greg Cipes, Teen Titans Go!, 2014): on a totally different register, we have the comedy stylings of the Teen Titans. Raven and Beast Boy had a flirtatious relationship on the original Titans series, but on this longer-running and much more demented comedy follow-up, they were allowed to make the romance more official (I nearly said “explicit” but, y’know… it’s not that). The jokes and banter – BB the love-struck, jealous suitor, Raven the too-cool partner who feigns nonchalance – build and build, but every now and again they’re allowed a moment of genuine heartfelt romance, and it hits all the more strongly amidst the ultra-violence and outrageous comedy.

Captain America & Agent Carter (Chris Evans & Hayley Atwell, Captain America: The First Avenger, 2011): the premier couple of the MCU, Steve and Peggy spend a whole movie flirting (she sees the goodness of him even before he gets all hench) before finally arranging a date that, we all know, is very much postponed. Peggy casts a shadow over the rejuvenated Cap and the MCU as a whole, founding SHIELD, inspiring dozens of heroes, and counselling Steve to her dying days. She remains Steven’s true north (like Supes with Lois, Peggy’s an ordinary human who is the actual hero of an actual super-powered hero), guiding him through the chaos and tragedy of Endgame, until they both get to live happily ever after. Even though he snogged her niece.

Batman & Catwoman (Michael Keaton & Michelle Pfeiffer, Batman Returns, 1992): Pfeiffer delivers a barnstorming performance as Selina Kyle, all barely-supressed mania and seductive feline charm. The chemistry between her and Keaton is electric, and propels the film forward even when the Penguin-runs-for-mayor stuff gets a bit daft and icky. There are beautiful moments of romantic comedy when they’re both trying to cover up injuries they gave each other, and of course there’s “mistletoe can be deadly if you eat it” – a line that runs a close second to “dance with the devil” when it comes to Burton-Batman quotations (just ahead of “never rub another man’s rhubarb”). Burton, generally favouring the macabre villains over the straighter edges of the heroic Batman, nevertheless makes great play of the duality of the character, and how this is something he and Catwoman can share – both “split right down the centre” – but also how this means a happy ending for either of them is impossible.

Spider-Man & Mary Jane (Tobey Maguire & Kirsten Dunst, Spider-Man, 2002): whilst a lot of this is really down to the sexiness of them kissing upside-down in the rain, there’s a nice duality to Peter and MJ seeing through each other too: he sees the wounded humane soul beneath her it-girl persona; she sees the kind, caring man underneath his geek baggage. This arc plays out beautifully across the first two films (ending in that wonderfully accepting “Go get ‘em, tiger”) before sadly getting all murky and unsatisfying in the murky and unsatisfying third film. Still: that kiss.

Wonder Woman & Steve Trevor (Gal Gadot & Chris Pine, Wonder Woman, 2017): probably the film that hews closest to the Clark-Lois dynamic of the original Superman, to the point where it includes an homage to the alleyway-mugging scene as Diana deflects a bullet. Steve is Diana’s window into man’s world, showing her the horror of the First World War but managing to also be a sympathetic ally and never talking down or mansplaining anything. He’s a hero in his own right – very similar to another wartime Steve on this list – and very much an ideal match to the demigod he’s showing round Europe. And, of course, Gadot’s Diana is incredible, both niaive and vulnerable whilst also an absolute badass. There is an enduring warm chemistry to the pair, with a relationship which we actually see consummated – relatively rare for superheroes! The inevitability of his heroic sacrifice does nothing to lessen the tragedy, and no I’ve not seen Wonder Woman 1984 yet.

Hawkeye & Laura Barton (Jeremy Renner & Linda Cardellini, Avengers: Age of Ultron, 2015): I love these guys! I love that Hawkeye has a relatively normal, stable family life. He has a big old farmhouse that he wants to remodel, he’s got two kids and a third on the way… he’s got something to live for, something to lose. It humanises him amidst the literal and figurative gods of the Avengers. And they’re cute together, bickering and bantering, and of course she is supportive of his Avenging. I hope we get to see more of Laura and the kids in the Hawkeye series, and I hope nothing bad happens to them now they’ve all been brought back to life.

Wanda Maximoff & Vision (Elizabeth Olsen & Paul Bettany, Avengers: Infinity War, 2018): theirs is a difficult relationship to parse, because they’re together so briefly. They cook paprikash together in Civil War before having a bit of a bust-up, and by Infinity War they’re an official couple, albeit on the run (and on different sides). That movie does a great job in establishing their feelings for each other in very little screentime, with their heroic characteristics on full display, before the shockingly awful tragedy of Wanda killing Vision to save the galaxy, before Thanos rewinds time, brings him back to life, and kills him again, and then wins. Their relationship going forward, in WandaVision, is even trickier, because we don’t know what’s up yet, and at times they’re clearly not acting as “themselves”, defaulting to sitcom tropes and one-liners. Will Vision survive, and if he does, will their relationship? Who can say, but at least they’ll always have Edinburgh, deep-fried kebabs and all.

Batman & Andrea Beaumont (Kevin Conroy & Dana Delany, Batman: Mask of the Phantasm, 1993): woah, Batman’s back but it’s a different Batman, say whaaaat. Animated Batman has had a few romances, from the great (Talia al-Ghul) to the disturbingly icky (Batgirl, ewwww), but his relationship with Andrea Beaumont is the best. Tweaking the Year One formula to give young Bruce a love interest that complicates his quest is a golden idea, and making her a part of the criminality and corruptiuon that he’s fighting is a suitably tragic part of the Batman origin story. Conroy and Delany give great performances, him wringing pathos out of Bruce, torn between heart and duty (“It just doesn’t hurt so bad anymore,” he wails to his parents’ grave, “I didn’t count on being happy”), her channelling golden age Hollywood glamour. The tragedy of them rekindling their relationship years later, only to wind up on different sides again, is – again – so very Batman. It’s a beautiful, earnest, very Batman relationship, a great titanic tragedy of human emotions and larger-than-life ideals. And they both look good in black.

Harley Quinn & Poison Ivy (Kaley Cuoco & Lake Bell, Harley Quinn, 2020): this one’s a little bit of a cheat, as I’ve only seen the first season of the show, where Harley and Ivy don’t even get together. But in the wider, non-canonical sense of these being characters who are part of the pop-cultural ether, Harley and Ivy will always be a couple, I feel; and there’s definitely enough in there already to see the affection between them, not yet consummated. They adore each other, are always there for each other, and as the season follows Harley getting out of her own way and acknowledging the abuse of her relationship with Joker – and finally getting over it in the healthiest way possible for a bleached-white manic pixie in roller derby gear. And all through this, holding her hand, is Ivy. They’re utterly made for each other, and I’m glad that they do get together in season two. I hope that Margot Robbie’s rendition of the character can likewise find happiness with a flesh-and-blood Ivy. Hell, just cast Lake Bell again. She’s great.

Just bubbling under – and I’m really gutted I couldn’t fit them in – was Spider-Man & M.J. from Spider-Man: Far From Home. Like Batman, I’m comfortable including multiple continuities here, and those cuties offer a different spin on a classic relationship.

#valentine's day #romance #top ten #love #superheroes #comic book #movie #films #dce #mcu #marvel

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popculturebuffet · 4 years

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Ducktales: Challenge of the Senior Junior Woodchucks! and Quack Pack! Review/Thoughts

Hello errybody, I’ve decided being a huge fan of this verison of Ducktales, and someone who likes reviewing stuff and going on and on at length about it, to review this season’s episodes as they come out, both to get me writing critically again, and to get more non chat content on the old tumblr. First, while you likely don’t care a little about my history with the ducks; While I , sadly though i’m trying to correct it, haven’t read MUCH of Carl Barks classic donald duck comics nor that of his avid fanboy and clear sucessor in quality and talent Don Rosa, I did read Rosa’s utter classic “The LIfe and Times of Scrooge” mcduck in high school and the story stuck with me sense. I’ll go into Life and Times another day hopefully, but naturally when the reboot was announced I was excited.. a great voice cast, and donald,my boy, as part of the main cast. The show has been a joy to behold and with steven universe having taken a bow JUST a week ago and Covid ravaging our lives, it coudln’t of picked a better time. But do these episodes keep the momentum from an utterly marvelous second half of season 2? The short answer is “Fuck yes” but the long answer is under the cut.

Challenge of the Junior Senior Woodchucks! While “Challenge of the x” is a popular snowclone title I can’t help but think of superfriends with the title... or now I thought of it shortly before writing this, hearing “Meanwhile at the legion of doom” when they cut to fowl.. or rather “Meanwhile at FOWL” but in that same announcers voice. I”m a dork, that should be obvious But I was hyped for both episodes: Violet is a faviorite mine, I ship her with huey so them interacting for the first time was wonderful to me, and.. okay the subplot didn’t hook me and we’ll get to that, but we had her dads and one of my other faviorites (I have several, get used to it now) , Lena , at least putting in an apperance. And honestly.. the main plot lived up to it. As I said I didn’t really dig the sub plot, more on that in a second, but I REALLY enjoyed this. From the begining Huey was my faviorite of the three triplets, easily, as it’s fairly easy for me a grown ass dork with anxiety, self confidence, anger issues, depression and constant self doubt, to relate to a little duck with the same and I’ve loved Danny Pudi since community, so naturally I was excited for his turn for a spotlight season. And again the show didn’t disapoint.. Huey has a rather decent arc with some unexpected turns: First unexpectly, the trailer lied as while Huey and Violet look ultra competiive, theirs no real confilct..s econds after that bit the two shake hands (after a good 20 seconds of adorable and hilarous failure to do so that fits both like a glove.), and try to be good sports. The problem is instead internal: As Huey muses to his siblings (Webby very much included, getting her own great bit of encouraging Huey while also assuring Violet she’s also great he just needs it more, which is accurate) “If i’m not hte best junior woodchuck who am I”. Like Louie last season towards the begining (when he didn’t have a clear purpose in their adventuring dynamic) and towards the end (When della nearly took it away from him), he’s nothing without his sense of who he is. It’s easily why he’s the one to comfort him when his other siblings are either torn between two friends or you know, Dewey. Louie knows what it’s like to be rattled about who you are. And WHY Violet outclassing him rattles him so much is intreating and to me makes a ton of sense: Huey’s identity to me is so wrapped in his intellegence and woodchuckery because , besides being oldest, it’s what he HAS on his brothers. When you think about it, Louie is the charmer, Dewey is charsmaticin his own way and loves hogging attention not to mention being fairly athletic... to stand out Huey NEEDS his brains to be the one with facts, and plans and his book. He may not be the first on the front lines but he’s the first to solve a trap or figure out where they are if scrooge or his mom hasn’t already.. and if someone’s markdely better at that, and worse in an activity that’s wholy his own and now it’s been revealed impmortant to his mom.. just who is he. The poor kid simply breaks down at the thought and takes bigger and stupider risks, which is sad to watch.. and thankfully lightned by his delightful mental brekadown in the form of the stephen root voiced JW Guidebook, a talking hallucination who gives huey his knowledge and edge back in the contest.. but it’s STILL not enough. And that’s when the other intresting bit comes into play: Huey.. has a moment of weakness. Despite the guidebook saying to always save your fellow woodchucks when violet gets stuck slipping in a tree.. he does nothing and leaves, despite JW , whose now become his concious, begging him not to. It’s a sad, well done moment, and one that makes the story richer. Naturally violet escapes and when huey falls off the lava bridge to the finish line in a nother moment of desperation, and after a returning JW burns because apparently ducks and sabrewings are fireproof but imaginary manfestations of knowledge arne’t, she saves him... and is a good friend and woodchuck in NOT chastizing huey for his moment of weakness earlier, but comforting him, revealing she’s tried three times before and adding some more depth to her character: Despite her awkardness with people, she’s a kind, caring person, and gives Huey the lesson he needs: faliure, and the ocasional bout of moral weakness, is okay.. what matters is you learn from it, dust yourself off and keep going. Huey bows out due to this, as while violet is more than willing to let him pass with her, Huey knows he hasn’t earned it, yet, but he can keep trying and that this is her moment, not his. And in that, I feel learns that he dosen’t NEED recognition to be his best self.. he just needs to be a good person and a good woodchuk. I’ts a damn fine story and despite not being the intended premire, works as a great one.. mostly. And also yes I ship them.. as much as two ten-elven year olds can be, but they are adorable and geninley have a good repore. And before I get to the dispaointing subplot, i’d be an idiot if I left out Violet’s family: We meet her dads, hilariously wearing shirts that say i’m with dad which is also really fucking adorable, and have our first onscreen conformation that Lena’s now her adopted sister, with Lena loudly screaming it in one of the best lines of the episode.. it’s clever to me: it over the top makes sure that we know yes, these men are gay and her parents.. but in a needed way given disney’s tendncy to dance around that or loudly proclaim a minor character no one cares about is gay in a way they can edit out. It’s a great step forward for the channel and the company and good on the crew for going ahead with it and good on disney for not beign dumb about it, nor, like again they have a bad habit of doing, loudly shouting about it to the media. Excellent work.

Now i’m done rambling about Huey’s psyche and america’s new faviorite gay couple, I gotta get the suplot out of the way: while the whiporwill is freaking adorable as is dewey’s bond with it, otherwise this plot is.. really damn weak: it has some good jokes (Louie’s blunt no when Scrooge asks if hte family wants to fight a bear, Webby’s disapointment when she finds their not walking in the path of literal giants, Donald’s runner with the spy drone mosquito (and Della’s instiance to just let it suck his blood), and Della proving she has the family temper with her own donald brand angry dance) it’s just.. not enoguh. It feels like it’s an oblogiatory plto for the family and while it does set up the season’s overaching plot with a strong character, as it’s intresting learning that Scrooge had an idol at adventuring and thus is following a legacy himself, overall the subplot itself is just there and distracting from the much more intresting A-Story. That being said it was at least sorta worth it for the ending bit where huey and violet suprisingly find launchpad at the end of the trial in a cave.. as do the duckfamily, both groups crying out “Launchpad?!” with launchpad giving out a hilarious “that’s me, i’m launchpad” and while the setup for it was weak, the idea of the family going around the globe to find missing mysteries wile fighting fowl over them is a great concept. Overall a really damn strong start to the season with a weak b-plot and i’m gald even if this isn’t what htey planned to start with it’s what they went with. Quack Pack: Quack Pack.. is one of disney’s secret shames.. I mean it’s not SO secret as it’s on D+ while this show’s predecessor wonder over yonder and superhero fantasy classic american dragon jake long are not for reasons I sitll don’t get, but that’s a rant for another day. It clashed badly with ducktlaes,was meiocre most of the time (It helps the two episodes I did watch were donald focused as he, a nicely redeisgned dasiy, and their co-worker kent were the highlights), with the boys somehow being more obnoxious than they were at their worst in the original ducktales. Now that’s off my chest the episode itself.. is really damn good and a nice take on sitcom parody, with the family getting ready for a photo. Dewey’s “since the internet” line in paticular killed because, having watched boths ome of the best sitcoms (roseanne, designing women) and some of the absolute worst (My wife and kids, last man standing,home imporvment etc), most modern ones i’ve seen, even the good ones, have kids written this terrible way. Otherwise though it was highly enjoyable and having Jaleel “Urkel/Sonic the Hedgehog” white here to take the piss out of his former genre as Gene (and doing such a great job I really want to see Gene back next season), is the icing. That and Huey going half insane trying to figure out what’s going on, as well as the unsettling reveal of the studio audience. Really the ep is a laugh fest, as well as the glorious arrival of goofy who to my relief, wasn’t a hallucination.. which itself is a great gag as is the offscreen internal thought of “okay so now htey ahve to take goofy with them on this deadly adventure all the way back to the states?”. The using of the adults old designs, as well as having dewey do the triplets dance and wear an outfit similar to theirs from “Mr Duck Steps Out” (Which I saw earlier this year and other than daisy’s horrifying early voice it wasn’t half bad). It’s just hard to go into and throughly enjoyable. But analysis right the real meat is in my boy donald: Going into the ep I genuinely expected Dewey to be the obvious source of the wish: while knowing gene was involved meant it was easy to see it was his fault HOW was a good question.. but having Donald do so and throughly enjoyable, and naturally gives us two great gags int he rwo: Donald’s VERY donald response “I wish for that 6 times a day! how wsas I supposed to know I was rubbing up against a magical lamp” and everyone spouting off their catcphrases, all either actual ones, basically something she does all the time turned into one (della) or poor beakly who gets “i’m not a spy” for some reason an dis cross about it. But the fact Donald not only figured it out quickly but wants to stay.. is perfectly in character. Donald in general, and especailly here, dosen’t WANT to be an adventuer anymore: he does it for his family, but he’d probably perfer the tgif lifestyle where problems are minor and solved with heartwarming lessons.. not full of lingering restiments, damage you caused, or loosing a decade of your sisters life and having to struggle to care for her kids. The rest of the familys looks when he gives his reasoning say it all: they really get why he wants this.. but Huey, who nicely got to be the one to break the sitcom news to them on top of everything else, makes an even better one: their lives are who they are.. this.. isn’t real. LIkea tgif sitcom it’s a plastic imitation of life that’s nothing like it: it’s comforting sure since hte real world is fucking complicated and miserable at times.. but hiding from it dosen’t fix things. And while Donald, of course angrily denies this while his family ends upf ighting the studio audience, it’s Goofy, loveable guest star and everyone’s other faviorite dad, who gets his friend to see the truth: eveyr family has thieir own normal. He and max are widower and his kid. Just a family of three (I”m counting PJ since , by his tene years at least, Peg is missing, though Iw ish she’d come back as her and goofy would be cute and she deserves better than Pete but whatever, and his dad is an emotionally abusive douchehead). But their happy, they make memories even if goofy like donald can’t walk five feet without the universe, and that’s what counts> it’s a touching sentiment and i’m happy Donald now has a friend whose also a parent and probably made similar sacrifices, and some Donald hasn’t had to just yet and probably won’t now dellas back, but made it through. So donald helps his family fight the humanoids, take sa picture and it’s just a genuinely sweet ending... a great episode with a great concept that also opens the door for the return of the world’s other best dad more times. And again I want to see him smooch pete’s ex wife. This is the hill I will die on apaprently.. and with that I leave you. it was a good start a fun thing ot dive into and I hope for more.. oh and before I go, while i’m not a GIANT max and roxanne shipper, Idon’t dislike the ship I just don’t hav ea large attachment, it was absolutley WONDERFUL to see that they went to prom together. Okay i’m done, until next week, courage and stay safe.

#ducktales #season 3 #challenge of the senior junior woodchucks #quack pack #review #goof troop #donald duck #goofy goof

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drawingsanddrabbles · 5 years

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Scandals Stick Together

ao3

Prompt: No Capes AU - First Kiss

Woo! I did it! All seven days, hell yeah!

~~~

Tim thinks that if the room was any more glittery he'd probably be having a seizure. He can't help but wonder if the many chandeliers in the room are real diamond. Bruce only uses crystal in his.

Bruce's hand closes on Tim's shoulder and Tim's eyes flutter closed for a moment. He wishes Bruce's hand was his dad's. But his dad is in a coma, he reminds himself. It's not his fault that he can't be here to work Tim through his first professional gala.

"Hey there, Timmy." Bruce says with a smile just as glittery as the rest of the room. "It's good to see you at one of these!"

"Bruce, good to see you too."

"Have you thought any further about my offer?"

"To buy Drake Industries?" Or the other offer? Tim wonders. The one where he offered Tim to move in with him and Alfred. To work at Wayne Enterprises. To become Tim's legal guardian while his father is still in a coma.

Social workers are terrified to touch Tim's case, and as long as Tim keeps paying them to push it to the bottom of the pile they never will. But it's getting expensive. He can't push it off forever, and having Bruce Wayne as his legal guardian wouldn't be so bad. His other strays seemed to have done well--well, Dick anyway.

Tim is losing hold on Drake Industries. Every since the plane crash stock has been going down. It's going to crash soon. News of the buyout could, frankly, make it go either way at this point. If Tim agrees he'll have nothing to lose.

But it's the last thing he has of his parents. Dad.... Dad's probably never going to wake up.

"I told you, I have no interest in selling. I am going to bring Drake Industries out of the ground, you know I can." It's not totally a lie. Bruce does know how competent Tim is. He knows that Tim, if he dropped out of high school, got emancipated, and managed to convince his company that a fifteen year old CEO is a good idea, could do it. If he really tried.

But Tim's tired. He's so tired.

Bruce knows that Lois Lane is watching the two of them too closely for Tim's comfort. One word from her and his stock price plummets, and Tim can lose everything.

Bruce's eyes slide to Clark Kent who sits next to her. He's only focused on Luthor--as always--so even if he did catch something they're saying he wouldn't care, or he'd be nice enough about it that he might actually tick DI up a few points in the stock market.

Bruce lets out a big belly laugh (one that Tim can tell is fake) and slaps Tim on the shoulder. Not hard enough to hurt.

"Well, you know, if you ever need anything, Kid. Come straight to me." He says with an easy smile and he ruffles Tim's (meticulously gelled) hair. But Tim takes that for exactly what he knows Bruce means. They'll talk about this later. Bruce walks backwards away from him with a wave. "Let's do lunch!"

"Yeah," Tim mumbles, a little pink from the way people are now staring at him, "let's."

Bruce goes off to flirt with Lois and (probably, from the way Mr. Kansas City has turned bright red) Clark, which leaves Tim some reprieve from endless questions about his future for the company. Tim's hair is now sticking up in a non-artful way so he narrowly dodges old white rich folks and their perfectly made up children as he weaves his way to the bathroom.

He's not the only one fixing his hair it seems, as two other men are as well. One is a boy a little older than him and (presumably) his father. Both of whom are trying to hide that they are watching Tim out of the corners of their eyes.

As Tim turns his back on them to leave (although he can clearly see them in the reflection on the shiny eco-friendly heat dryer) the father leans over to his son and whispers: "That's Tim Drake. He's acting chair of his company and he's going to lose it to that Wayne idiot in a few weeks. Read it in Forbes."

Tim ignores the way his cheeks turn red and rushes out of there as fast as he can.

Tim hates the way people look at him now. Ives feels sorry for him, but that's because Ives actually cares about him. The fake way these people do, makes him want to snatch a champagne flute from one of the servers and down it. But really the last thing he needs is to get drunk or tipsy, to say the wrong word in a room filled with piranhas who have diamond teeth and lose everything before he ever gets a chance to earn it back.

Mrs. Powers corners him (old Gotham money, he tells himself) and starts with condolences (as they always do) before moving onto the obligatory "How's your father doing?" ("Well! Doctors just want him to stay a little more for observation but he'll be up and about in no time!" He says,) then to "do you need anything, darling?" ("Fuck you too Mrs. Powers," he doesn't say).

Tim doesn't know when exactly he gets surrounded by old rich women, but suddenly they're engulfing him. None of them squeeze his cheeks like they used to, or pat his head, or try to straighten his tie (he hopes that one's because it's still straight but he knows that's probably not the case). Instead they keep distance from him. He's no longer a child of a rival but the rival himself (the floundering rival, perhaps). They're not treating him as an equal so much as something diseased to excise.

He misses the days when he could just blend in next to his father's side or, at least, hang out with the other rich kids. Wow them with his knowledge (and the thrill) of living in Gotham.

Tim passes the drink counter (under which he's positive Winston Price the Third and Jennifer Wallaby are making out, because last gala, when he was one of them, Winston had told him he planned to do just that next time he saw her) and orders a soder despite what he really wants. The waiter laughs at him but cuts it out with a glare from Tim and gets him what he ordered.

He wishes that Luthor would just get on with the dinner part of the night. He was too nervous to eat all day and now he's starving. Also, prearranged seating means people will stop coming up to him to show him they care.

"Tim Drake, I am shocked to see you here," speak of the devil... "shouldn't you be caring for your father?"

Luthor knows. Luthor has always known, just as Tim has. His father isn't waking up, no matter what Tim manages to fool the rest of the world into thinking.

Lex Luthor smirks and Tim turns around. He plasters what he hopes is a Bruce Wayne brand smile on his face. "Mr. Luthor!" He covers his eyes and squints, as if the sun is blinding him. "Good to see you!"

Luthor frowns slightly. "Are... you feeling alright, Mr. Drake?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, it's just," Tim lowers his voice and leans closer to Luthor as if he is telling a secret, "with all these lights, your head is just blinding me." Luthor's lips turn into a pale line. "Really, I think you might want to see a doctor about your perspiration, it's so.... shiny. I'm sure my father's doctor would love to offer some... discreet suggestions."

The snicker behind Luthor almost makes Tim drop his hand. Luthor whips around. Ah yes, and there is the boy that made Tim's takeover of DI old news.

Conner Luthor. Appeared, as if from nowhere, just after everything from Haiti was settled. The de facto heir to Lex Luthor. Being trained to succeed him, but who's training wasn't even close to succeeding.

Partier, playboy, and very hot. Luthor's polar opposite. Also, the same age as Tim.

"Conner, maybe you should carry this conversation with Tim, after all you two have more in common than I do with him." A dig at his youth, lovely.

But before Tim can bite anything back, Conner says in a flippant way: "Well, beauty before age. Isn't that the saying?"

So the rumors are true, they don't seem to be able to stand each other.

Careful, Tim, he warns himself, cute boys with sparkling smiles might be more than they appear.

"Lex! How wonderful to see you!" A familiar voice hums behind Luthor, snapping the tension building. The singsong voice can only be Bruce.

Tim wonders if Bruce has been watching him. Tim doesn't need his help. He doesn't want his help. He just wants to go home.

Luthor grimaces at Bruce. "Wayne."

"Say, is this your son?" Bruce asks, turning his attention on Conner. He sticks out a hand. "Good to meet you, chum!" Bruce flashes a grin at Lex, "And they call me a playboy. Wow, she must have been a looker, huh, Lex?"

Luthor looks as though he might combust. Conner doesn't take the bait or the hand (he's been famously tight-lipped about his other parent and life before he took on the Luthor name). Conner glares at Bruce. Tim notices that Luthor hasn't convinced him to get rid of the earring for tonight (one more scandal to add to the Conner Luthor package) and wishes he hadn't. He doesn't have time to notice these things. He has to network. To try and dig himself back into a good light for the sake of his company.

But Bruce, in his blundering and self-focused way, has managed to give Tim a way to slip out of this interaction. All eyes are on Bruce.

Tim used to have a theory that Bruce was smarter than he appeared. His father had told him that was stupid. Sometimes, Tim thought he was right, but ever since he'd gotten to know Bruce he'd understood his mistake. So he gratefully takes the exit Bruce offers.

He can't hide, but he wants to. He really wants to.

Thankfully, though it seems that it's time for the dinner part of the gala to begin and everyone and their drinks are ushered into the next room.

Tim is seated at table nineteen with eight other people who only represent five different companies. Tim sits next to the daughter of a mogul on his left and the son of a different one on his right and it's clear to everyone that the artful Mr. Timothy Drake (Drake Industries) on his place card is just a courtesy. Everyone knows where he really belongs.

Luthor stands and begins his speech which Tim tries really hard to listen to but gets bored. He knows the gist of it, new tech, bringing Metropolis into the future, thank you for coming, etc etc etc.

Tim's eyes travel to Conner's seat at table number one, and finds that he's not there. Of course not, probably ditching.

Tim wishes he could ditch. He knows that the teens on either side of him will find one of their go-to excuses after a respectable amount of dinner and go up to one of the balconies or the roof to drink and smoke and play spin the bottle and other things their parents wouldn't approve of, before making their way back down by dessert and leaving completely respectably, none of the parents the wiser. Tim knows this because Tim used to do just that.

Despite that Tim hasn't eaten all day his salad just doesn't look that appetizing anymore.

"So, Timothy, I'm so sorry to hear about your parents. Who are you staying with?" The old lady across from him asks. The speech has ended and everyone has begun their first course. He can feel heat rising to his cheeks. None of his family members wanted him.

"Myself. I have an attorney for general legal issues but I can live on my own until my father can come home."

"What a smart young lad you are!" The father of the girl on his right says.

"And so well organized too! I can't imagine my Peter running my company at his age." The father of the boy on his left says. The kid himself looks like he would give anything not to be there right then, Tim agrees.

"Well, I just worry. It's so difficult to be a deciding factor in a company's decisions and for one so young-why, it must bore you to death!"

Don't tell them anything they can use, Tim reminds himself, lie.

"Really, it's a piece of cake."

"Well then!" The other adults (read: vultures) around the table seem delighted.

"Well he may not be bored," one of the younger people at the table says, he's the head of some start-up or another, "but I'm sure we don't want to bore the other kids with this table talk. How is your dog, Miranda? I heard she was sick?" And from there the conversation, thankfully, is led away from the topic of Tim and Drake Industries. The girl next to Tim begins going on about how her teacup poodle has cancer or something and Tim fazes out again.

Just after the soup course is served Miranda explains to her father that she's having some "lady problems" and might be a while. At the end of it Peter tells his father that he thinks he sees Conner Luthor over by that way, would it be alright if he says hi? (Tim glances over, and Conner isn't there). He's excused as well with a chortling: "Already networking! What an entrepreneurial spirit, that one!"

By the meat course Tim is losing his mind. The Start-Up Guy tries valiantly to steer the conversation away from Tim's parents but eventually even he is overwhelmed by rich old people and Tim has to repeat the same lies he's been saying for days now.

It's only once Miranda's father says that Tim might have been a good match for her, if only he were a little older that Tim decides to excuse himself with a 'phone call' from work. Something these people will understand.

Tim makes it all the way out of the ballroom, and then he decides to push his luck and go looking for some people his own age.

Since breaking down in a bathroom isn't an option (old rich people use bathrooms too), Tim decides that he might be able to find himself a secluded area where the kids are.

It's not hard to find them. They're in a much smaller ballroom on the second floor of the Luthor Concert Hall. There's a balcony, Tim knows, he's been here before.

Rock music blares and can be felt outside the room. Tim used to think that them playing music that loudly was a challenge to their parents: catch us. But now Tim understands it for what it is, just loud music.

Tim opens the door and a son of an African CEO hands him a joint. Tim wants to, but like so many things lately, he can't. He can't risk it.

The kid just shrugs, and lights it himself.

The room smells like smoke: all sorts. Tim spies some beers some of them smuggled in, and some wines from the receiving hall downstairs. His eyes snag on the champagne, but it's the cognac that he really wants.

"Traitor." Someone says to his left. He turns. It's Joseph. His dad is COO for Maxie Zeus. It's good natured, Tim knows, because Joseph is smiling. "I thought we weren't going to turn into our parents."

"Didn't have much of a choice."

"Bullshit." Lucy says from Joseph's side. "Let them go belly up and cash out."

"My Dad's going to pick the company back up in a bit." This is the last thing Tim wants, he came up here to stop talking about DI. People are starting to watch him. He can see Conner eating Miranda's face in the corner of the room.

"How'd you even swing it anyway?" Ha Joon asks.

"Yeah, aren't social services up your ass?"

"Guys, leave him alone." He hears Tam Fox say. She's always had his back.

"What happens in Gotham stays in Gotham." Preston snipes.

"Be nice!" Lucy says.

"What about school?" Peter asks.

There's enough of a lull in the interrogation that Tim answers with a shrug and scuffs his shoe against the tile floor. "I'm dropping out." This causes more of an uproar than anything else.

"No way!"

"God, my Mom would kill me if I dropped out."

"Kill you? My Dad would disown me!"

"Only disown? Wow, your parents are uncreative. There's more than one way to skin a kid that's for fucking sure."

It doesn't occur to any of them that Tim wouldn't have to drop out if his father really was doing okay.

"Seriously?" Tam asks. Clearly Lucius hadn't told her. Because Tim had told Bruce and there was no way that Bruce hadn't told Lucius.

"Yeah, seriously." Tim says.

"What's the big deal? I dropped out." Conner Luthor says with a shrug and all eyes turn towards him.

"Did you really?" Lucy asks.

"I mean, I basically did. I never go anyway."

"Ah, young grasshopper. We all don't go to school. But it takes some special cajones to drop out." Vido says.

"What's the difference?" Conner asks.

"See, don't go to school and your Dad just pays the administration office to keep it quiet. Drop out and he pays the reporters to keep it out of the newspapers." Preston tells him.

Conner cocks a wicked eyebrow. "And if he pays both?"

Everyone listening shakes with laughter. "Then you must have done something really bad," Lucy says, eyes traveling up and down Conner as if only now sizing him up. Conner languishes in the attention from her and Miranda who is staring at him like he's a god. Conner winks at Lucy and Tim feels a little sick. The smoke swirls around Tim's head, making it swim.

“What about that girl of yours? What was her name… Ariana?” Peter asks. “Did you ever get that first kiss?”

“My parents were held hostage and my mom died.” Tim says more harshly than he means to. He needs some fresh air.

Tim heads to the balcony but before he gets there Tam grabs his arm. "Hey, how are you really doing? Really?"

Tim grimaces. "What happens in Gotham stays in Gotham, right?"

Tam looks disappointed but she doesn't push and Tim opens the balcony doors.

The night is cool which is good against his burning cheeks. He wants to rip off the monkey suit. The tie itches and the gel is making his hair feel greasy and his feet hurt and he's still a little hungry. All these little things are coming up and bashing him in the face now.

"You really from Gotham?" Conner Luthor asks from behind him, making Tim jump.

"Yeah." He says.

"Rad." He says which makes Tim laugh even though it shouldn't. Conner grins at him. "So, a kid CEO, huh? Didn't know that was possible."

"It's not. Not really. But I'm trying." (And failing, he doesn't say. Again, it doesn't seem to occur to Conner that it wouldn't matter whether he fails or not, if his father is coming back.)

"No one's given you shit about being bisexual?" Conner asks.

"What? I'm not-"

"Oh. Sorry, I just assumed since they said about that Ariana chick and the way you look at me so-"

"I don't-Not you-!"

Conner snorts. "Please, I'm scandalous, not blind."

Tim shuts his mouth abruptly. "What do you want?" Tim asks in a low voice. Conner must be spying on him, there's no way Lex would give up this information.

"Nothing!" Conner frowns. "Why should I want anything?"

So that was how he wanted to play it. Tim frowns. "I should probably head back down-" He says but when he turns around to go back into the room he finds the balcony door is locked.

Tim tries not to cry. This can't be happening. It can't- He has to be able to get back down to the party, he-!

"Locked out?" Conner asks.

Tim leans his forehead on the door. He wants to die.

Conner leans over him and bangs on the door but the music is loud enough that no one hears him.

Conner scowls. "Well I guess now you're stuck out here with me."

"I'm screwed." Tim says in disbelief. They'll be locked out here forever, and even if they aren't it doesn't matter. Coming up here in the first place was a stupid thing to do. Ten more minutes is enough to ruin whatever reputation he has left downstairs.

Maybe he should just accept Bruce's offer. Whatever he'll get for Drake Industries will be more than whatever it's worth.

Tim feels tears leak from his eyes. He rubs at them angrily. He's going to lose everything. Every part of his parents, of his Dad.... Mom...

"Hey, it's not so bad! I promise! I'm less annoying than I seem at first impression!" Conner says hastily. Tim wipes at his face but he's sobbing now.

"I-It's not you. It's not-It's not- I'm not-" but he can't say anything without the words coming out as a garbled mess.

Conner, confused and worried, tries to comfort him by putting a hand on his back. Tim pushes him away. "Hey, it's okay." Conner says. He pulls Tim into a hug anyway.

"I'm going to lose everything." Tim tells him, words spilling out of his mouth. He'll accept Bruce's offer tonight. The paperwork will be done before they get home to Gotham and it won't matter what Conner tells Luthor because it'll already be done. "My company... everything my parents worked so hard for... it's going to be gone. I'm going to lose the last of them."

"But... I thought your father was getting better..." Conner says. Then he realizes what Tim's been hiding. "He's not getting better, is he?"

Tim shakes his head. His shoulders tremble. Conner holds him tight and he cries into Conner's shirt--soaking it.

Tim tells him everything. From Bruce's offer for the company to his offer of fatherhood. Conner listens silently, rubbing Tim's back and nodding. When Tim finally calms down, Conner presses his lips to the top of Tim's head. The kiss so fleeting Tim wonders if he imagined it. "You're going to be okay. You at least have Bruce Wayne, don't you? And don't lose hope, stranger things have happened. Your father could wake up."

"And if he does, I'll have sold his company away, don't think that he'll be happy about that."

"He'll be happy enough that he's alive and so are you."

You don't know my father, Tim wants to tell him. But he doesn't.

Conner wipes his thumb across Tim's tear-streaked face. "I don't even know why I told you all of that."

"I've got a listener's face." He says.

Tim snorts. "Yes, exactly. That's what everyone says about you. Lex's infamously obedient child."

Conner winks. "Only for cute boys. Lex can screw himself."

Tim raises an eyebrow. "Really?" The mysterious boy, who came from nowhere, heir to a fortune and company whose CEO he looked nothing like. Tim likes mysteries. Always did.

And then there was the cute boy comment. Tim tries not to think about that one too hard.

"Isn't that what the tabloids say?" Conner asks. He spreads his hands out in a half-shrug.

"Guess I never really believed they really knew anything about you. Not that they really know anything about you."

"I'm a man of mystery." Conner shrugs uncomfortably.

"Clearly." Tim raises an eyebrow. "Come on, tell me something about yourself. Anything. I told you my entire life story."

"Uh uh. That's my business to keep." Conner says shaking his head, arms crossed over his chest. Tim sighs, but supposes that is his right.

Of course, without DI on his plate he can go back to his amatur conspiracy theorist detective work. Maybe he'll figure it out on his own.

Tim sizes Conner up. Yeah, he can figure it out. Conner's a teenager, and he exists which means he had to come from somewhere. He wasn't just born fifteen. Made in some lab.

"Yeah," Tim agrees though, "that's fair."

Conner nods. There's a knock on the door and both boys jump as Tam pokes her head out.

"Tim? Dad's says you better get back downstairs, Mr. Lord is saying some pretty nasty things about your father and Bruce is doing what he can but-"

"Thanks, Tam. I'll head down now." Tim tells her.

She looks from him to Conner suspiciously. "Gothamites stick together," is her veiled response, her glare at Conner showing what she really wants to say.

She leans back into the room and Tim just barely catches the door before it locks the two of them out again.

"Wow. Tell us how you really feel." Conner grumbles at her back.

Tim turns back to Conner. "Thanks. For... not being weirded out by me sobbing into your silk shirt." (Which is now ruined by the way, he doesn't say.)

"Hey, scandals stick together, right?" Conner offers with a quick grin.

Tim smiles back and turns to leave when Conner grabs him by the hand. "Hey, wait-!"

Tim turns just as Conner bends down to kiss his lips gently. Tim is too stunned to react as Conner pushes past him into the room. His first kiss and it’s with a Luthor. "Text me next time you want to vent. Listening face." He says, pointing to said face to emphasize his point. "Wayne's got my number. I think." Then he disappears into the party.

Tim watches him go, shocked. He's standing there so long, mouth open, that Luke walks past him at some point and he says: "I thought Tam told you what Dad said? You going back downstairs?"

Which restarts Tim and he rushes downstairs, cheeks pink.

~~~

"Well?" Lex asks as he and Conner sit in the limo back to the penthouse. "Learn anything useful from that Drake boy?"

Conner stares out the black tinted windows, watching as the streetlights zoom past and trying not to think about how Tim's lips had felt pressed against his. "Not a thing. Didn't even show up to the kid party like you said he would."

Lex narrows his eyes at his son. "I see."

Conner just shrugs. "Better luck next time."

#diana writes timkon #timkonweek #timkon week #timkon week 2019 #timkon week: day 7 #diana writes dc

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justlookfrightened · 5 years

Text

Houston Chronicles, Part 14

Read the beginning here. Read the last installment here.

Bitty was glad that he was watching the game with Mandy and Jeni.

For one thing, their TV was bigger. For another, it forced him to concentrate on the game and not just hurling imprecations every time Kent Parson stepped on the ice. Which, as the first-line center, was a lot.

He couldn’t hide his dislike completely, but he couldn’t out Kent either.

“What do you have against Parson?” Jeni said. “I can see why you don’t like the Aces -- there is a lot of dirty little stuff going on -- but he’s hardly the worst.”

“He’s what passes for a skill player on the Aces,” Bitty said, as Kent shot over Sully’s left shoulder to open the scoring.

“Seems pretty skilled to me,” Mandy said.

“He and Jack played together in juniors, when they were teenagers,” Bitty said. “He went pro right away, became the face of the Aces, had a lot of success early. Jack took a detour and ended up at Samwell. I know for a fact -- and this isn’t public knowledge -- that he tried to get Jack to sign with Aces out of college, but Jack went to Providence instead, and Kent got really pissy. Took a cheap shot at the Falcs’ goalie the first time they played.”

“But that’s like, a decade ago?” Jeni said. “And it seems like Jack gets along with him now.”

Because of course the pregame coverage had included shots of Jack and Kent chatting at center ice during warmups.

They had reached a state of friendly detente, at least in front of the cameras, before Bitty had broken things off with Jack. It was better, Jack said, because if it looked like there was a feud, the hockey media would just continue to play it up.

Jack had told Bitty way back when that he and Kent both owed each other a lot of apologies. Bitty didn’t know if they’d ever actually made those apologies or if they just decided to call it even and move on. It didn’t seem like something he should ask about when they were dating, especially since Jack knew Bitty had not forgiven Kent for some of the things he’d overheard.

If Jack could get over that to be friendly with Kent, was he doing the same thing with Bitty? Making nice to avoid negative publicity? It wasn’t like Bitty had apologized for his decision to move to Philadelphia, and he would have been shocked if Jack apologized for being the center of both their worlds.

But no, Jack had told him when he met Foxy and Marcus that Bitty was important to him, and he wanted to be important to Bitty.

“Jack will score,” Bitty said. “There’s no one more competitive than him.”

Jack did score before the end of the first, and again in the second. Bitty could see the smugness in his face when he netted his second goal, even if no one else could.

“Look at your man go!” Mandy said.

“Not my man,” Bitty said.

“Still?” Mandy said. “I thought you guys kissed, like, weeks ago. And I know you’ve been hanging out a lot.”

“It’s complicated,” Bitty said. “He’s really got to focus on his hockey now, and he’s worried because I left him last time. And I’m worried that if we try, I’ll get pulled back into his orbit. I know I want to try, but I think we need to be adults about it this time, and talk about things first. Maybe after the season? I hope. But a lot depends on whether the Aeros want to keep him and whether he wants to stay and play for what they can afford to pay him.”

“Holy shit, did you see that?” Jeni broke in.

Bitty looked at the screen to see one of the Aeros rookies, Iskander Volodin, lying still on the ice as hii teammates let trainers hang on to them as they jogged and slipped their way across the ice. In the corner, the refs were trying to separate -- that was Jack and Parse. Holy shit was right.

Volodin had gotten to his hands and knees, and after the trainers talked to him for a few moments, skated off between them.

The replay showed Parse tripping up Jack by inserting his stick between Jack’s skates, then getting to the loose puck and heading towards the Aeros’ net. Volodin had slashed him across the wrists, stopping him from getting a shot off, and skating after the puck, with Parse skating after him and it looked like screaming at him too. Before Parse could get to Volodin, who had at least four inches on him, Drescher got there and cross checked Volodin across the shoulders, sending him headfirst into the boards.

Bitty winced in sympathy. There was almost no way Volodin wasn’t concussed after that. And what was Jack thinking, mixing it up with Parse after the play?

Bitty could see why he’d be mad, honestly. Parson probably should have been called for tripping Jack at the beginning of the sequence. Then Volodin’s slash was a clear penalty -- the ref had his arm up before the mayhem erupted -- but it had been an attempt to save a goal. It wasn’t anything for Parson to get that upset about. And what was Drescher thinking? Was he taking orders from his captain? Or just trying to protect him?

And what did Jack have to do with it, anyway?

Bitty took a big swig of his margarita and said, “Well, that was fun.”

In an effort to regain control of the game, the refs were liberal with their penalties. Volodin got two for the slash, with someone else serving since he would be unable to come back to the game. Drescher got a major and game misconduct for the crosscheck. Jack and Parson both got five for fighting.

As the camera panned across the penalty boxes again and again as the announcers talked about the sequence of incidents, Bitty was pleased to see a bruise starting to bloom across Parson’s cheekbone. Jack didn’t look any the worse for wear, although he was clearly ignoring Parson, just staring at the ice.

In the end, the Aces won, which was important to them because they were still skating around the playoff bubble.

“Was it like that when you played?” Jeni asked.

“NCAA’s different,” Bitty said. “Fighting gets you kicked out and a suspension. But the checking and stuff? Yeah. I got a concussion once when a check sent me flying and I landed on my head. Poor Jack felt like it was his fault.”

“Did he check you?”

“Not that time,” Bitty said. “He only checked me in practice, and he was careful not to hurt me. No, he called the play before the faceoff, and he thought he left me vulnerable. But it was a late hit by the other team. I would have been vulnerable to someone trying to take a piece out of our team anywhere on the ice.”

Maybe that was why Jack was so upset? If he felt responsible for Volodin’s injury?

Bitty had gone home and washed the trays that held the appetizers when his phone vibrated.

Jack.

Can I come see you when we get back?

Bitty started to respond when another text came in.

Nvm. I know you have to work early.

Come over if you need to, Bitty texted back. I’ll get someone to cover for me.

Then he called Thelma.

*****************************

Read the next installment

#omgcheckplease #omg check please #zimbits #omg houston chronicles #my fic

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thesorrowfulknight-blog · 6 years

Text

Okaayyyy, so! Apparently tumblr was being a shitforbrains again and didn't post my answers from a few days ago, so I'm gonna combine both get-to-know-me q&a's in one post! Sorry for the wait you guys.

1st set of q's was tagged by @legendarybitch 😘

Relationship status: Single AF

Favourite colours: Blue and green, hands down. I'm partial to he more vibrant blues and more earthy greens; especially hunter green with gold accenting. But it has to be a nice gold, not that yucky orangey-yellow some folks use

Lipstick or chapstick: Chapstiiiick! Anything else I get annoyed and scrape it off with my teeth

3 favourite foods: Oh god, I have to choose? I guess... Any pizza really though I have a weakness for deepdish (especially double cheese smothered in sriracha 😍), suicide hot wings (I want to choke on the fumes and feel like my face is melting), aannnnd a nice tender rare steak. You can't see it but I'm drooling now thx guys

Song stuck in my head: The Next Episode by Dr. Dre feat. Snoop Dogg

Last song I listened to: Zombies by The Cranberries (the cover done by Bad Wolves is fucking bomb too)

Last movie I watched: Galaxy Quest (1999) Worth every goddamn penny

Top 3 tv shows: Tough call, but I think the closest would have to be Hannibal, Final Space, and Voltron: Legendary Defender

Books I'm currently reading: The Rowan by Anne McCaffrey and Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Last thing I googled: Biomedical Technology

Time: 11:04pm

How many blankets do you sleep in: Primarily just my one big galaxy comforter

Dream trip: Phew, that one's a pretty tall order! About 9/10ths of my clan/extended familar are still in europe (mostly Germany and the Netherlands), so I'd like to be able to visit everyone! I haven't met most of them because of distance but we're all still very tightly knit accross continents. So a dream trip would somehow entail being able to get to visit everyone and possibly even go with my Oma before she can't fly anymore (she hasn't seen her sisters in many years). If somehow this all timed itself right so that I could also attend the Trakehner Verband approvals at Neumünster, I would legitimately weep with joy. My opa and I had always planned to go together as he hadn't been since immigrating to Canada, but now that he's passed I want to go for the both of us. It's a family legacy thing, I suppose. My second choice would be to visit either Spain or Portugal for a riding vacation 😍

Anything you really want: To have a prosperous and fulfilling life brimming with true friendship, laughter, and love.

2nd set of q's tagged by @vecchiasignoras 😙

Name: Kate, though I consider it to be quite intimate so only my immediate family calls me by this name. Everyone else refers to me as Kat

Height: 5'9"

Middle name(s): I have two! Their initials are E.M.

Put your music on shuffle. What are the first four songs that come on?

September by Earth, Wind & Fire

In the Middle by Jimmy Eat World

Smells Like Teen Spirit by Nirvana

Something Like This by The Chainsmokers

Bonus: Become the Beast by Karliene

Grab the book nearest you and turn to page 23. What is on line 17? (I counted them as the beginning/end of dialogue and whole sentences)

"She'll... she'll die! You know as well as I do," and Siglen's words crowded each other out of her mouth, "what happens to the truly Talented in space... I mean, look at how ill David became. Remember how devastated Capella was. To subject an infant... of unknown potential... to such mind-destroying trauma! Why you must be mad, Interior. You cannot! I will not permit it!"

Ever had a song or poem written about you? Not to my knowledge! Though the only thing they might draw inspiration from is how big my feet are lmao

When was the last time you played air guitar? Mmm, a few weeks I think? That Mötley Crüe riff was impossible to resist. As for a real guitar, I think it's going on almost 4 or 5 years now? Jesus time flies.

Who is your celebrity crush? They would have to be Tom Holland and Chris Hemsworth. I definitely have a thing for their personality type 😘

What's a sound you hate + a sound you love?

A sound I hate would 12/10 have to be my mother's voice, even just saying my name. It always sounds accusatory and condescending in the kind of way that's like nails on a chalkboard but under your skin. Also the sound of unexpected people WALKING UP ONTO MY PORCH AND KNOCKING ON THE DOOR INVADING MY SANCTUARY. (I loathe unannounced visitors. Hate hate hate them).

A sound that I love would hands down have to be the ambient noises my horse makes when he's just doing... whatever. When he's doing him-stuff. Slurping up electrolyte water like a messy kid, heaving these great big sighs because life amiright? I especially find his annoyed growling to be hilarious, because he is VERY loud and dramatic about it, but only does it when you ask him to do something relatively low effort that he finds tedious. Like flat work, or walking to and from the barn and paddock. Completely droll and lackluster. But going for a friendly gallop in the back field? You'd think we'd just gotten rallied by fucking Théoden to ride to our deaths at the Pelennor Fields. He makes this hard little growly-grunt when he shifts up into the next gear and then boom, you're gone. Just fucking gone. Then he's a happy springy boi. It isn't like his annoyed growling though; it's different. When he's annoyed it's more like verbal complaining; all in the throat. But when he revs it it's much shorter and takes on a hard edge. Comes up deep from the core. I can't really explain it any better than that. I just fucking love sprinting a 1700lbs war machine in general, now that I've re-learned how the hell to ride it 😂 I'm babbling now

Do you believe in ghosts? I believe in spirits and other things, yes.

How about aliens? We've only discovered and understand, what, 0.4% of the known universe? To not be widely open to and fully accepting of the notion that we are not alone would be pure folly. Even from a mathematical standpoint it would be wildly ridiculous not to. That doesn't mean I have any specific theories or "truths" about it, though. It would just be very stupid of me to be closed-minded.

Besides, if it does turn out to be true it would explain a lot of things. I think my favourite wild theory out there is that Mary, mother of Jesus, was artificially inseminated. Like we do with livestock. If nothing else it's fascinating to ponder the implications.

Do you drive? Yes. Pretty gutsy too, if I say so myself. My mum used to drag race so I guess it's both a hereditary as well as a learned thing.

If so, have you ever crashed? Only once, and that was an actual accident. The conditions were super icy so we were already going 20km below the limit, and I was hanging back, but what happened was the car infront of me hit the car infront of them, and when I slammed on the brakes I just slid about 15-20 feet right into their rear end anyways. Nobody got hurt except for my car; she took the worst of it. The car I hit basically just had to pop the dent back out and it was like I hadn't made contact. Lucky badstards. There were a ton of similar accidents that day so everything got wrapped up pretty quick.

What was the last book you read?

It's been so long since I've completed one, mostly because everything these days sucks ass, so I don't remember what it was. The ones I'm currently reading however are The Rowan by Anne McCaffrey and Burial Rites by Hannah Kent

Do you like the smell of gasoline? Clean, quality gasoline? Yes. Dirty low quality gasoline? No.

What was the last movie you saw?

Galaxy Quest (1999)

Do you have any obsessions right now? Not really, no. I mean, technically all things Bioware and my pony, but those are more of a glowering embers kind of love. Not the raging wildfire kind that overtakes the mind and turns you into a fanatic

Do you tend to hold grudges against people who have done you wrong?

Eeeehhhhhh, yes and no. Like I won't actively hate you cause why tf would I waste the energy, so it's whatever, but I will also always keep you at arm's length so idk

Are you in a relationship? No, nor do I want to be. I'm enjoying just being on my own and allowing myself to grow as a person. I don't do relationships just for the sake of being in one, or because of this ridiculous notion people seem to have that you aren't complete/a whole person without a significant other. I'm only interested in end-game, and I'm not ready to be open for that right now ✌

Bonus: What's an annoying/bad habit that you have? Talking the shit out of everything. And I swear. A lot. More in my head than out loud, though.

#man this got dark #my bad #about me #get to know me #q&a #personal #me #thesorrowfulknight #i apologize for any typos; i've been at this for several hours now

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brucee-waynee · 7 years

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alright, so i'm really tired when people say that Bale!Batman is better than Batfleck when he's actually doing a better portrayal of Bruce Wayne??? do you think so? and could you maybe give some reason to shut down these fools people? lol

I know the feeling entirely and since I agree with the statement and you asked. Here’s why Batfleck is better than Nolanverse Batman:

The idea of Batman/Bruce Wayne has become one with pop culture since before I was born. I enjoyed Batman films when i was young and even the not-so-good film Batman & Robin. It wasn’t until i was older that i realized there was so much more to Batman that people don’t necessarily see when they see the character since the whole pop culture thing.

The reason why Batfleck is better for me and many others when were talking about a comic adaption Batman its because of his raw emotion, his brooding hurt self. Batfleck suffers from PTSD at the loss of his parents. He shows and conveys that pain in so many ways throughout Batman v Superman. Batfleck emodies Bruce Wayne from the comics unlike every other Batman before him in a way that is not just some rich white man with a deep voice in a batman suit, He’s essentially like Logan from X-Men, constantly losing his loved ones but also his parents death is apart of him. The sheer difference between Nolanverse Batman and Batfleck is that Batfleck conveys so much emotion surrounding their death and is quite human where his rage is fueled from things he cannot control. If you just want a short and sweet way to argue that Batfleck is best, here’s a decent article. This will mostly be about uplifting Batfleck as the best batman rather than pitting it against Nolanverse!Batman.

Disclaimer: To start I just want to state that i find great distaste in Nolanverse Batman but i do think the films are entertaining and good on their own accord. As Batman adaptions, they’re so off point from the comics. I will also state that although i’m a huge Batman fan, i am not at all read on every Batman comic. I would not consider myself the most knowledgeable Batman fan. That being said, i think my opinions as well as others who have shared the same opinion are quite valid.

The DCEU thus far have been comic adaptions, maybe not to the T but to the extent that scenes have looked like panels from comics. The DCEU is also in its early stages and when people compare the MCU it makes no sense considering the MCU was started before it. Not to mention, reviewers have related the DCEU to the MCU to put shame to the DCEU. The point of why i started with this is because the DCEU as of now is questionable and has got a lot of bad reviews for its films either than Wonder Woman.

I’m going to skip to Batfleck where we first seen him in Batman v Superman and then talk about Justice League. As i’m doing that i will bring in examples from the Nolanverse trilogy that missed the mark.

Batfleck was meant to be a serious toned Batman and because of Zack Synder’s vision it was pulled off really well. You can read more here from this article I thought fit well. Because of this seriousness, people have either loved or were questionable about him. I think the for me, and others, the serious tone really played off the part well. Batfleck was not meant to be all smiles or cracking jokes every few seconds. No, he was in pain (mental pain to be exact) and that pain is central to his character.

From the death of his parents, we see this pain from the beginning. I could go into talking about Synder’s visuals which were highly deceptive of the comics but i’ll stick to Batfleck.

We have many moments where we can visualize Bruce’s feelings and how they have a connection the death of his parents. His PTSD is tied to him.

The destruction of Gotham

Visiting parent’s cemetery

Batman: Dark Victory parallel

Batman: Year One parallel

____________________________________________________

Back to the theme of Batfleck and parent’s death

In the moments between the big action scenes we see the pain he witholds from his eyes to to his facial expression.

Even in his speech, its clear that there is pain in him and he takes that pain and pushes onto Supes. That pain is not only a result of his parents dying but Jason Todd’s death

This could be suggestive of Jason and/or others who went from hero to villain or something else entirely. Either way there is a malingering grey area about Bruce that is not just good vs. evil, black vs. white, bat vs. supes. There’s more to him and as he fights with Supes, this is shown more.

He has a moment of disbelief with the idea that Supes (Clark Kent) has a mother and shares the same name as his. He’s thinking of his mother in this moment and instead of killing Supes, he gets back in touch with his humanity, something that Martha Wayne would have made him realize if she were alive.

“Men are still good”

There’s so many comics hint or explore Bruce’s pain. Those ones are my favorite. Batman: Ego (2000) is my favorite Batman comic book because it explores it so well. And i see Ego!Batman when i see Batfleck. I could parallel a bunch of comic panels to everything on here but i think Batfleck even on his own is superior.

Hell i don’t even dig Batman: the animated series but look:

Tell me that Batman’s pain and seriousness ain’t part of his character even in a mostly children’s series.

also if you want more lookalike, tell me Batfleck doesn’t look like comic!bruce

_____________________________________________________

Batfleck and fighting especially that one scene™

Straight out of a comic book

again

even when fighting Supes

which are said to be similar fighting style to the critically acclaimed video game Arkham Knight [check the gifs of it here & here since tumblr can only have max of 3mb gif size]

Speaking of video game

This shot in particular says not only video game but Comic Book panel

Justice League trailer coming in hard with the visuals ACTUALLY looks like Batman:

_______________________________________________________

Bruce Wayne™ is merely a persona

The whole idea of rich white Bruce Wayne is suppose to be a persona. And in fact Batman tries to fight poverty no matter if its Batfleck or Nolvanverse. The thing that Nolanverse gets the most wrong is that Bruce Wayne is a shield from his mental health. Its also not to spend too much time as him because that’s not really him. I think another thing that kind of took away from this in terms of Nolanverse is that it didn’t feel that believable even when they tried to split pained!bruce with persona!bruce and i think its cause of how they conveyed persona!bruce as an all powerful being. i also get corporate vibes from bale!bruce so there’s that lmao.

I think the whole sarcastic thing batfleck had with clark outbeats anything we were given from nolanverse when it comes to bruce showing his true side while showing his persona!side. He was confident but had something about him that wasn’t over-the-top where he could be cocky like Nolanverse!Batman

________________________________________________

There’s so much i could say in terms of Batfleck’s strategy and detective work.

There two things are central to Batman as a hero. He does not just go into any given situation without a plan. He is also more than his gadgets. And as much as i love this line:

and this line:

Batman as a hero is quite great cause he’s human but does things that make him superhuman and it goes without saying his big heart.

He came prepared against Doomsday

Also against Supes

Batplane helping Martha Kent and against Doomsday

Detective work with the mafia and “white Portuguese” in Gotham City, which he investigates Lex Luthor as he believes he is the key. He was going to go there as Batman but was invited as perona!Bruce Wayne. This was much better writing in utilizing the persona rather than Nolanverse

Investigating the soon to be Justice League

Showing not only his investigative work but his big heart. He also knows what it feels like to lose people he loves.

_________________________________________________

All in all, Batfleck is the best batman to ever Batman. This is merely based on one film and part of a trailer. We are yet to have a standalone Batfleck film and The Batman dir. Matt Reeves is guaranteed to be a phenomenal film. ‘Reeves has hinted at a possible trilogy of the The Batman film as well as rumors around Jason Todd’s resurrection. He has also expressed interest in telling a noir-driven, detective story that shows the audience what’s going on in Bruce’s head and heart. Its planned to be an emotional story.’

The main features i highlighted in this messy meta are Batfleck & pain, fighting, strategist, detective, big heart, true to himself and not persona!bruce, looking like comic bruce, animated bruce, video game bruce, visually like bruce, etc. and we don’t even have much were going off here. In compared to the Nolanverse!batman, Batfleck has all the balls in his court, considering we’ve only got a taste of him unlike the trilogy from Nolanverse. I realize i didn’t cap and look over Nolanverse but my point was not to tare down Nolanverse for Batfleck but more to highlight that Bafleck is the best batman and there’s no way something that is more popular culture entertainment could out beat him. That’s a rap. Hope you enjoyed and @ me if you have any other questions. I mostly simplified this only cause its more accessible to all and cause i’m tired.

#batman #batfleck #dceu #dceu positivity #ask #anon

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nomorelonelydays · 8 years

Text

Patater Week - Day 5

Feb. 10 - Social Media Shenanigans – Jeff kind of wishes that he didn’t know Kent and Alexei apparently sext each other through Snapchat pretty regularly. 1.3K “What the hell are you doing?” Jeff asks, a towel over his head as he enters the locker room. Kent doesn’t even look remotely embarrassed as he pulls his shirt down and pockets his phone. “Sexy snapchatting my boyfriend.” “Okay.” Alexei Mashkov likes his men blond, shameless, and a little stupid, he supposes. There’s no helping taste. He shouldn’t be that surprised when, that night while marathoning Game of Thrones by himself, he gets a notification that he’s received a snapchat from Kent. When he opens it, he nearly drops his phone and spills his cup noodles all over his crotch. Miss you lots babe, when you coming to Vegas??? Providence is no fun, the caption says. The Kent in the photo is lying down on what seems to be super soft blankets, the picture taken from the up-down to showcase Kent’s exceptional abs all the way down to his low waistband. He has an actual finger in his mouth, like he’s trying to play coy. It’s clearly sent to the wrong person.

Like any good, sensible friend should have done, Jeff should have screenshotted the photo and saved it as blackmail. But instead, he tries to copy the pose and sends one back. Because he’s clever, and there’s no way Kent’s going to ever live this down.

He immediately gets a text back. He wonders if Kent is red-faced and sputtering at this point. It’ll be amazing chirping material for ages to come, and he’ll finally have one over Kent since the prank war from two month ago. Ugly, the text says. I threw up in my mouth. Shut the fuck up, Jeff texts back furiously. Honestly, why is he the one embarrassed? My abs are 100x better than yours. Five minutes later, when Jeff is rinsing out his Styrofoam cup, the Aces groupchat is blowing up. NICEEEEEE!!!!!!! texts Connor. Jeff, if I said you had a nice body, would you hold it against me? Patrick texts, along with about a billion heart emojis and the one with three water droplets. Jeff doesn’t even want to ask. Mmmmm bby u single? the next one says. And dear God, that one is from their winger, Arti, the one with the scar on his face whom Jeff has only heard say phrases along the lines of “I’m kill you dead” on the ice, along with several other Ukrainian expletives. Show you good time))))) I nutted, the other says simply. There’s like twenty more following those, and as Jeff frantically tries to scroll up against the wave of incoming messages, he realizes, with horror, that Kent had screenshotted his picture and sent it to the entire goddamn roster. Because that’s what Jeff should have done, but didn’t because apparently he’s the one with no brains. Arti makes a bunch of noisy kissy-face smooches at his direction the next day. Kent and the rest of the team giggle themselves to tears, because they’re all actual children and Jeff is the only adult in the entire roster.

Kent’s driving Jeff and a couple rookies back home after going out to a bar to celebrate their latest win; Kent doesn’t look as disappointed as Jeff had thought he’d be as designated driver, but then again, he notices that Kent doesn’t really drink anymore, either, except for a can of beer now and then. There’s only him and Dom in the backseat at this point, and Jeff grabs Kent’s arm and squeezes him in what he hopes is a show of appreciation. “Why are you touching me?” Kent asks. Okay, so maybe he’s not being obvious enough. “Just…saying thanks. For everything,” Jeff says. “You’re a good Captain. The Aces wouldn’t have gotten to where we are now if it weren’t for you.” “You’re just saying that because I’m driving you home,” Kent says, but he sounds quietly pleased. “No, man, you’re great. You’re one of my best friends,” Jeff says. He’s a little loose-lipped and fuzzy with all the alcohol in his system, and he’s feeling especially gooey today. “Sometimes you’re an ass, but you know, you’re—you’re swell.” “Who says swell anymore?” Dom asks from the backseat. “He’s from the 50s, cut him some slack,” Kent says blandly. “Fuck you all, I take it back, Parser, you’re the worst,” Jeff slurs, just as Kent’s phone lights up and buzzes with a notification from where it’d been wedged in one of the cup holders.. “I’m the same age as—oh, dude, you got a text.” “I’m also driving,” Kent says, retrieving the phone and unlocking it with his thumbprint. “Could you check who’s it from?” Jeff retrieves the phone and peers at the screen blearily. “It’s a Snapchat…from…‘T.’ Who’s T?” “Oh.” Kent says, considering. “It’s Tater. Just press it.” Jeff does, but in hindsight, if he hadn’t been so buzzed, he’d totally would have done the smarter thing and thought a bit more about accepting the photo before listening to Kent. He nearly swallows his tongue at the photo. It’s taken from the waist down, and it’s a picture of what is probably the biggest dick Jeff’s ever seen close-up in his life, and just as an athlete who hangs out pretty regularly in locker rooms, he’s seen his fair share. U home? the caption says. “Dude,” Jeff says, his mouth dry. “You got a dick pic.” “Cool,” Kent says, unperturbed, his eyes still on the road. “Is it a good one?” “How the hell should I know? It’s a dick pic. It’s a picture of a dick,” Jeff says, then furrows his brows. “Wait. Wait, you fucking knew he was gonna send a dick pic. You set me up.” “I actually didn’t,” Kent admits. “He usually sends me photos of his dogs. He’s probably horny or something.” “Ugh, I hate you, I could’ve lived without ever knowing that.” “Stop being homophobic,” Kent says. “I’m not homophobic, I just think it’s, I don’t know, fucking weird I know that your boyfriend is uncut, no big deal—” “Long distance relationships,” Kent says, like that’s an explanation. “Gotta keep the magic alive. Hey, sext him back for me,” Kent continues, like the idea isn’t completely ludicrous, like Jeff isn’t now equipped with the useless knowledge that Alexei Mashkov is packing. Seriously, that thing could probably poke someone’s eye out. “I’m not gonna sext your fucking boyfriend, what the fuck am I supposed to type?” “I don’t know, write like, ‘Think about me blowing you,’ and then add a winky face or something. I’m driving, leave me alone.” “A winky face?” Jeff echoes. “Have you lost your mind?” “You’re right. Maybe add the eggplant emoji, too. Thanks.” “That’s so boring,” Jeff says. “If it was me, I’d want to hear—wait. No. Screw that. I’m not doing it.” “Then give it to Dom, Jesus Christ.” Kent rolls his eyes. “I ask you to do one thing for me—” “I got it,” Dom says, plucking the phone from Jeff’s hands and types something quickly before handing it back. “Done.” “What did you even write?” Jeff asks incredulously, scrolling up to read the message. The guy wrote an actual to God paragraph. “‘I wish I was there so I could blow you, then I’d ride you so hard you scream, you get me so hot—’ What the fuck, Dom?” “That’s pretty good,” Kent comments. “Nice job.” “Is this not weird?” Jeff exclaims. “Am I the only one—oh God, Mashkov’s typing back, he’s typing, what do I—” He pauses. “Oh. He just sent three heart emojis.” “Cute,” Dom says. “You can drop me off at this corner. Thanks.” When Dom leaves the car, Kent leans back and grins at Jeff, the first one since the dick pic incident. “My dirty talk is too boring for you?” Kent muses. “Man, sorry, I’ll get it up to your standards next time.” “You’ve been demoted to Worst Captain,” Jeff decides, at about the same moment Alexei sends another message: Tell me what else u want do with mouth)))))) (When Mashkov visits the next week, Jeff tries to be casual and ends up saying, “Hey, Mashkov. How’s your dick been—week. How’s your week been. Oh God. Fuck you, Parser.” Kent laughs so hard he has to sit down for a solid three minutes.)

#bee writes #PataterWeek #patater #check please #las vegas aces ensemble #sorry jeff ur kents best friend #it happens #m

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everywon-woo · 8 years

Text

SOMETIMES PLANES CRASH - chapter 2

A/N: Thank you for reading this fic and for the lovely reactions to the last chapter! it really means a lot and it motivates me to keep writing. I decided to divide this fic into 3 chapters, so there will be one more chapter after this. I have so many ideas for sequels and sidefics, but those might take a while bc I’m a horribly slow writer. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter!

Masterpost

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

When Jack woke up the next morning and stretched his arms to reach for Bitty and pull him close to his – still very naked – body, he was met with warm but empty sheets. Normally, this wouldn’t concern him – Bitty loved to cook breakfast on the rare occasion that they didn’t have to go anywhere in the morning – but considering the events of the evening before, Jack couldn’t help but worry, so he quickly threw on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before making his way out of the bedroom.

Apparently his worry hadn’t been unjustified, as Bitty was not cooking, but standing in front of his laptop, one hand covering his mouth. Jack could see him shaking on his legs from where he was standing.

Jack’s first instinct was to slam the laptop shut and drag Bitty back to bed to stay there for the rest of the day, but his plan fell apart as soon as he switched his attention from his boyfriend to the laptop screen. There, on the screen, was a copy of the picture Bitty posted on Instagram the day before – which was not the concerning part, they had expected this, and Jack couldn’t deny it was a nice picture – and an article of which Jack could only read the headline.

“Bits? What is this?” Jack asked. Bitty gasped and slammed the laptop shut. He wiped at his eyes quickly before he turned around and tried to do his best to smile believably.

“Gosh, honey, you almost gave me a heart attack!”

“Oh Bits,” Jack sighed and he took a few steps to wrap his arms around his boyfriend. “You have to deal with this because of me, so I’m not going to let you deal with it alone. We’re a team, remember?”

This seemed to be enough for Bitty to let his tears flow, dampening Jack’s t-shirt.

“I’m- I’m sorry, honey,” he sniffled, “it’s just, the stuff these articles say…”

He was now sobbing loudly into Jack’s chest, and Jack pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

“Let me read them?” he asked when Bitty calmed down a bit.

Bitty nodded and untangled himself from Jack.

They settled down on the couch, pressed close together with the laptop on Jack’s lap.

‘College friend of Jack Zimmermann seeks fame?’

“Last night, in the aftermath of one of the greatest games of hockey every played by Jack Zimmermann, a video surfaced of the NHL star and another man – most likely one of his college line mates, Eric Bittle – being intimate after the game. Zimmermann is undeniably recognizable in the clip, but the identity of the other man would have remained a mystery if it wasn’t for a picture posted on the Instagram account of the abovementioned Eric Bittle, merely minutes after the original video was leaked.

The picture shows Zimmermann and Bittle in an incriminating position at the public skating rink in Providence. Bittle captioned the picture: “Jack Zimmermann sure knows how to have a first date”. Zimmermann seems unaware of the fact that his picture was being taken, and this raises a lot of questions. Did Zimmermann consent to this picture being posted? Did Bittle post it solely in search of fame?

If the latter was the case, he has definitely succeeded. The picture is being massively shared on social media: ‘The first gay NHL player’ is a story that doesn’t only concern the hockey world, and Bittle has managed to put himself right in the center of the attention, which wouldn’t have been the case if only the original video had been leaked.

Some are even doubting Zimmermann’s consent to the whole situation. They argue that a star like Zimmermann would know better than to be intimate with another man in the Falconer’s facility – as being discovered could potentially ruin his young career – and he might have not been consenting to the actions seen in the leaked video either, on top of the lack of confirmation of any consent to the posting of the Instagram picture.

Although it seems very likely that Zimmermann is a victim in this unfortunate situation, we can only speculate, as there has yet to be an official statement by either Zimmermann or Bittle, which we expect to come very soon.”

By the time Jack finished reading the article, Bitty was quietly sobbing again.

“Bits,” Bitty looked up to Jack with swollen eyes, “can you text me the pictures that girl took?”

“Uh… of course, honey.”

Bittle didn’t seem to understand where this way going, but sent Jack the photos anyway.

George had set up a verified twitter account for Jack last summer, and despite the popular belief, Jack did know how to use twitter, he just couldn’t be bothered to. Despite his complete absence from social media, he still had a few hundred thousand followers.

Jack decided that the time had come to put those to use, and he typed out a tweet while being stared at by a wide-eyed Bitty. He attached the picture of them kissing the previous night and sent out the tweet for the whole world.

Jack Zimmermann @OfficialJackZimmermann

My boyfriend (whom I love very much) posted last night’s picture with my full consent. Here’s another one pic.twitter.com/AEj5i6sD90

He knew he was probably making George’s job even harder, but he didn’t care. Jack could handle bad articles being written about himself. He was used to it, after all.

What he couldn’t handle was shit being said about Bitty, who wouldn’t have been in this situation if it wasn’t for Jack in the first place, and he would do everything in his power to prevent anyone from ever writing a bad word about Bitty again.

Meanwhile, a Bitty was still staring at Jack teary-eyed.

“Well, I did not expect that,” he declared.

“What? Bits, you didn’t think I’d just let them get away with saying stuff like this about you, did you?” Jack asked.

“No, but…” he paused for a moment, “Jack. You just called me your boyfriend and posted a picture of us kissing on your verified twitter account,” he stressed the word ‘verified’ to indicate that they were going to have a talk about that later, “which you apparently know how to use.”

“Yeah,” Jack smiled. Even though this whole situation was pretty much his fault, at that moment, he was pretty proud of himself.

“Jack,” Bitty emphasised, “you know how to use twitter.”

Of course Bitty would choose his unexpected knowledge of social media as the most important part of Jack’s public declaration of love.

“And you have a verified twitter account,” he continued.

Jack nodded, all the anger leaving his body at the sight of Bitty’s growing smile.

Bitty looked up at him in awe. “Gosh, my boyfriend is a celebrity.”

Jack laughed and intended to give him a quick peck on the lips, but apparently Bitty did not agree with that, as he wrapped his arms around Jack’s neck and pulled him down on the sofa with him. Jack did not complain.

The press conference the next day went surprisingly well. Jack was accompanied by not only Georgia, but also Marty and Thirdy, who had apparently begged George to let them join as soon as they heard about the press conference. The rest of the world probably thought about it as two players with A’s assisting the third one, but Jack knew they were there as his friends rather than his fellow alternate captains, which made him feel slightly better about the fact that Bitty was back at Samwell. No matter how much he needed him, Jack had insisted that Bitty’s education was more important than this stupid press conference.

If Jack called Ransom and Holster to keep an eye on Bitty and fight anyone who even looked at him the wrong way, Bitty didn’t need to know.

Despite Bitty’s absence, Jack managed to stay relatively calm during the press conference. He stated that he was bisexual – which would most likely be ignored by every major sports network – and made sure it was very clear that his relationship with Eric Bittle and any previous relationships – this part was mostly for Kent’s sake – were private and off-limit for the press.

He guaranteed that his sexuality had never affected his play and would never affect his play in the future, which made Marty and Thirdy laugh and Marty exclaimed: “I sure hope it hasn’t affected your play! Imagine if you had even more potential than you’re showing right now! The Falcs could just fire all of us and put only you on the ice, and you’d still win!”

Laughter went through the whole room, but when George leaned towards her microphone, everyone went silent, expecting her to say something serious.

“I think I need to remind you Jack is only a rookie, Marty. Maybe you should start looking for a job in case he hasn’t reached his full potential yet,” she joked.

Jack couldn’t have wished for a better team. Ever since he realized he was not straight, a press conference about his sexuality had been his worst nightmare. But here he was, surrounded by his friends, who had managed to make it seem like this was not a big deal.

Jack didn’t think he could be any more grateful, but when they walked of the stage, out of the press’ sight, after all of them answered a few more questions, he was immediately enveloped in a bone-crushing hug by Shitty.

“Shits, what are you doing here?”

“Lards told me you made Bitty go back to Samwell,” Shitty explained, “and I figured you might need some support.”

He then let Jack go, luckily, because a man needs to breathe every once in a while to stay alive.

“I see that my support is not needed, though,” he added, nodding towards Marty and Thirdy.

“Yeah,” Jack smiled, “they’re nice guys. They wear pants most of the time, though, so it’s not the same.”

“Brah, you just have to call and I’ll be at your door, without pants, within less than 2 hours, I promise,” this got Shitty a weird look from the people within hearing distance, “that’s what BFFs are for.”

“Haha, yeah. Thanks. When do you have to go back to Boston?” Jack asked.

“I don’t have to be back until tomorrow afternoon. But, as much as I’d love to have a good old BFF sleepover at your fancy apartment, we already have other plans.”

Jack raised his eyebrows. “We?”

“Yes, Jack. We,” Shitty nodded. “We are going to have lunch at your apartment – oh don’t act like you have no food, I bet Bitty leaves you more food than you can eat – and I happen to know that you don’t have to be back in Providence until tomorrow afternoon, so-”

“Wait, what?” Jack interrupted. “Shits, I have a game tomorrow. Morning skate isn’t optional.”

“Indeed, it isn’t optional,” Georgia’s voice sounded from behind Jack, and Jack wanted to start apologizing for ruining Shitty’s plans. “Morning skate is not an option for you, Jack. I don’t want to see you on the ice tomorrow morning. Go see your boy.”

Shitty’s face broke into a huge grin, and Jack couldn’t remember a time he had ever been so happy to not be allowed on the ice.

“So,” Shitty continued, “you don’t have to be back until tomorrow afternoon and I don’t have to be in Boston until tomorrow afternoon, which means we are going to visit or favourite significant others at our only true home, the most beautiful frat house on the Samwell campus, also known as the Haus.”

As he was already dragging Jack to the parking lot, Jack had to express his gratitude by shouting “Thanks!” at Marty, Thirdy, and George, who had joined the two men in a conversation that appeared to be funny, judging from their giggling.

The three of them turned around and waved at Jack enthusiastically, despite the fact that he was being dragged away by the man that had loudly promised Jack naked sleepovers less than 5 minutes ago.

“Bye Jack, have fun!” Georgia said, and Jack didn’t know if he should feel uncomfortable about the slight smirk that implied she was very aware of how much Jack was looking forward to being in Bitty’s bed for another night.

“Wait, Jack! Say hi to Bitty for me!” Marty shouted.

“Yeah, and thank him for that pie he made us!” Thirdy added.

Jack had the feeling his teammates liked Bitty more than they liked him, despite not knowing Bitty at all. He didn’t blame them. In the past few years he had learned that Bitty’s pies were a very reliable way to make people like him.

“Jack,” Shitty started while they ate lunch – lunch that had indeed been left behind by Bitty – at Jack’s apartment, “you know we’re all really proud of you, right?”

“Yeah, I know,” Jack said, “even though I don’t fully understand why. It’s not like coming out was some kind of brave move, I didn’t have a choice.”

Shitty put down his fork, meaning that it was time for a “Jack Zimmermann, you are a fucking beaut and I’m gonna keep lecturing you until you believe it”-speech.

“Dude, I was actually talking about progress and your life in general, but I want you to know that I wholeheartedly disagree with you there. Okay, that video leaking was not your fault, but the way you decided to handle it was entirely your choice. You could’ve denied it. I’ve seen the articles, you could’ve blamed it all on Bitty and the whole hockey world would’ve believed you.”

“I could never-”

“I know,” Shitty interrupted him, “but for that alone you should get more credit that you give yourself. Believe me, everyone is surprised – no offense – at how well you’re both handling this situation. Lardo was so worried about Bits when she heard the news, I’ve never seen her like that. But apparently her worries were kind of unnecessary. That boy sure is amazing. I’m sure Lards would be giving you the “If you hurt him, I’ll break your legs”-talk right now if she didn’t think you were already hiding a ring in one of your drawers.”

“Well,” Jack looked down at his food and blushed, “not in one of my drawers.”

Shitty choked on his own spit, managed to push over a glass of water and almost fell out of his chair.

“BRAH.”

“I mean, uh…” Jack stuttered, “I might have bought a ring after Bittle left yesterday?”

Shitty’s jaw was on the floor.

“But, I, uh… I- I’m not gonna propose or anything, I know it’s too soon and Bittle’s still in college-”

Before he knew it, Jack was on the floor with a slightly too enthusiastic Shitty on top of him. His chair was somewhere in the mix too, as Shitty had just tackled him in a hug without bothering to think about the uncomfortable position they would end up in.

“Brah,” Shitty repeated, softly and fondly this time, and Jack could feel him smile against his shoulder.

“Yeah,” Jack sighed happily, and he returned his best friend’s hug.

When they arrived at the house, Shitty couldn’t stop smiling at Bitty. Luckily, he kept his mouth shut, and when Bitty asked what was going on, Jack pretended he had no idea what caused Shitty’s mood.

“He’s probably just really missed your pies,” he said, hoping the mention of pies would make Bitty drop the subject. He wasn’t mistaken.

Chapter 3

#omgcheckplease #omgcp #zimbits #sometimes planes crash #fanfic #eric bittle #jack zimmermann

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computerguideworld-blog · 6 years

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I fall asleep on my computer: six people on their relationship with the web

New Post has been published on https://computerguideto.com/must-see/i-fall-asleep-on-my-computer-six-people-on-their-relationship-with-the-web/

I fall asleep on my computer: six people on their relationship with the web

As a study shows many people feel unable to switch off from the internet, we ask our readers how much time a week they spend online

Do you spend too much time online? Its a question that may unearth some uncomfortable truths, and if you are worried about how much you use Facebook/Google et al, youre not alone.

The annual communications market report from media and telecoms regulator Ofcom looks at how people cope with spending so much time connected, and this year it found that more than a third of UK internet users are taking digital detox breaks from the web. It found an increasing amount of time we spend online is leading to lost sleep and less time spent with friends and family.

Six people talk about their relationship with the web, and whether they have the balance right. Share your thoughts below the line.

Cary, 61: My friendships have fallen apart and I am gaining weight by being in all the time

Time spent online: 10 to 12 hours a day

At first I used the internet just for responding to emails. Then for reading news online, shopping and chats. Forums were a totally new experience for me I remember finding it amazing that you could talk to someone through a computer. I have tried various discussion forums, even met with few people out of curiosity. I thought the web was so great because of such vast opportunities for meeting people from beyond my immediate circle, of learning from each other, and doing stuff together.

But that hasnt really happened. My friendships have fallen apart and I am gaining weight by being in all the time. The internet affects my ability to sleep too. My day is turned upside down I go to bed very late because I often get carried away reading something. Time flies when I am doing that! I imposed a regime on myself to do things at home but I drag my feet when it comes to going out.

Whatever I need is now on the web: I can do online banking, shop online and find recipes there too. Information is much easier to get, but I do miss that personal contact with people.

Jenny, 27, Kent: I use the internet at work and go straight online when I get home

Time spent online: 10 hours a day I grew up with the internet I remember the whirling beep-boop of dial-up. I use the internet at work, and go straight online when I get home. Im always logging into apps to play games or check my Facebook messages. I have mostly used the internet to stay connected, though, with friends from across the world. In my teens I used MSN to talk to people these days I go on Facebook and join online chats. Having said this, I can happily spend hours away from the net playing with friends, but the habit of checking for updates online is always there.

The internet has always been a way to stay connected for me. I have made amazing friends in the US and elsewhere. It has helped me feel connected, and talk to people about a variety of topics. Seeing a US perspective of the current elections online, for example, has been refreshing.

I dont feel like there are any drawbacks to the internet. I can go without it, but I dont ever feel the need to switch off. I often go camping and never think of my phone because Im with the friends. I suppose you might need some sort of balance but I dont feel like it negatively affects my life at all.

In the early 2000s, MSN was widely used for chatting online, via messages or webcams. Photograph: Alamy

Mel, 24, London: The internet has made my anxiety worse

Time spent online: one to five hours a day

Some days I trawl through the internet looking for inspiration or to help with my work, but over the long summer months this happens less. I started my BA just last year and a lot of my friends have already graduated, have exciting jobs and are generally having more fun (or so Instagram tells me).

Although I feel Im right where Im supposed to be, seeing their carefully curated lives as they appear on social media exacerbates my anxiety. The web is also very addictive. Ive now deleted social media apps and use the sites on my browser for a fraction of the time I used to, but I often feel rubbish after using them.

Ive battled with mental health issues for a long time. Even though at times of deep depression I actually found sites like Reddit strangely helpful, overall I think the internet has definitely made my anxiety worse.

Reddit was particularly helpful after coming out theres a huge queer community on Reddit and the kind of stories and advice there is really helpful.

But even though its made it easier to connect with others, the internet can also turn feelings my of unsettlement into a full-blown meltdown (whether its a post making me think a friend is avoiding me or Ive Googled my symptoms and think Im dying).

Having said that my partner and I wouldnt have met if it wasnt for the ultimate nerve-racking experience of online dating. I guess being shy and anxious and having no clue how to navigate life as a queer woman, it has allowed me to meet new people that I wouldnt have approached in real life.

Ive had to put a ban on phones when my partner and I spend quality time together because although Ive made an effort to use mine a lot less, she will be fiddling around online. I avoid looking at her Instagram and Facebook feeds sometimes. I get Fomo [fear of missing out] and read too much into things, I guess.

Mike, 67, Brittany: The internet lets us keep in touch with family and friends

Time spent online: two to five hours a day

Its made our relocation to France much easier and smoother. The internet lets us keep in touch with family and friends, even while theyre travelling and/or very busy. It also allows us to keep better informed and pursue personal interests and research.

Its a massive help in solving practical quotidian problems (DIY, health, transport, holidays etc). Im more positive about the net and spend more time online than my partner, but it rarely causes tension. We still talk to each other as much as we always did.

Im more positive about the net, and spend more time online than my partner, but it rarely causes tension. Photograph: Sarah Lee for the Guardian

I dont think it affects my ability to get jobs done either; if anything researching online helps me tackle jobs I might have been daunted by in the past.

JP, 65, Bristol: I am online during my first cup of coffee, breakfast, lunch and dinner

Time spent online: eight to 10 hours a day

Before the arrival of internet I used to spend a lot of hours a week researching in the library, reading the news and also writing letters to friends and family so it was easy for me to migrate online. Actually, the internet made everything I enjoy much easier to do. I do, however, consider myself dependent on it, as I am online during my first cup of coffee, breakfast, lunch and dinner (except when I go out to see friends). I usually fall asleep on my computer.

I doubt that it has benefited my life, as all the hours spent online could have been better spent outdoors. The web does, however, satisfy lots of my curiosities, and I can read an endless number of articles from around the world.

Dining al desko: do you eat your lunch by your computer? Photograph: Alamy

It would be hard to see the world without the internet, but I do think we all waste far too much time online. If the internet didnt exist, I would have spent the same amount of time reading, so I dont believe it really affects my relationships. Sometimes it can be a huge distraction, however. I often think, just 15 more minutes, 10 more minutes, and so on, as the hours go by.

Matthew, 30, Northamptonshire: I deleted my Facebook a few years ago and life has been better since

Time spent online: 12 hours a day

I have to use the internet as part of my job in IT support and obviously the web contributes to me earning a decent living so I cant be too negative about it.

Being online all day can get a little tiring at times, however, and about six years ago I deleted my Facebook and my life has been better without it. I have tried Twitter and Instagram too but have since deleted the accounts because I dont feel I need the gratification of a like or a retweet in my life. Sometimes I feel like Im missing out but then again some of the things online are really not beneficial to me or worth keeping up with.

From an educational perspective the internet has allowed me to expand my knowledge across a broad range of subjects. At the end of the day we all have a choice about what we consume online and its all about being sensible.

Due to my thirst for knowledge the internet sometimes does affect my sleep: I have been known to be on my phone until the early hours reading Wikipedia or watching YouTube videos. It could be worse I guess, I could be on Facebook trying to promote my perfect existence like the rest of them.

Read more: http://www.theguardian.com/us

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k1reynolds · 6 years

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It was with eager anticipation that we set off on our journey to the first annual Experience Alexander Valley. We’d been invited as guests of Alexander Valley Winegrowers*, and based on all we’d heard about this new event, we knew we were in for something special. We wrote a couple of preview pieces, which if you missed them and want to catch up, you can read here, and here. But the previews don’t come close to capturing the magic and adventure that Experience Alexander Valley delivered.

* As guests, our event admission was complimentary. We received no other compensation or incentive. All descriptions, opinions, and reviews are our own.

Like many wine country events, this was a two-day adventure. Unlike many wine country events, rather than racing from winery to winery, guests got to choose two Experiences per day. Since we were invited as bloggers, to cover and promote the event, Robyn and I wanted to participate in as many Experiences as possible…to a point – we do enjoy each other’s company! So we decided “divide and conquer”, at least for a couple of Experiences. We each selected one Experience per day to fly solo, and one to attend together.

Saturday dawned clear and bright. And warm. Weather forecasters predicted highs near 103F, and they weren’t far off. This meant that many outdoor Experiences had to be canceled or at least modified. Nevertheless, we were undaunted and headed from our hotel to Robyn’s first destination, deLorimier Winery. I’ll let Robyn tell the story of her Experience herself. Watch for her blog post in a few days.

I had a bit of a drive to get to my first Experience, at the Medlock Ames Winery. Though they have a tasting room on the valley floor, they wanted to treat guests to a Sustainable Winemaking Experience at their vineyards and production facility. The drive was beautiful, along the east side of the valley, then up Chalk Hill Road. The thing that struck me most: No Traffic! I was virtually alone on a Saturday morning in Wine Country.

Turning onto a single lane road, I started to get a little nervous that my trusty Google Maps might have failed me. It was a paved, single lane road, so that was hopeful. Alas, my trust in Google ran out two hilly ridges in. I turned around, beginning what would be a 30 minute detour that ended up taking me right back where I was. Around a curve about 100 yards beyond where I’d turned around was the entrance to Medlock Ames. Sigh. I’d done it to myself, and was almost 45 minutes late!

Fortunately, friendly Isabella saw my plight and left her post in the tasting room to rescue me. She came out into the already 90+ degree day, and caught me up with the small group on the outdoor tour. Isabella handed me off to Chelsea, who was leading the two other guests, Jimmy and Maryanne, on a tour of the grounds.

Medlock Ames is a sustainable, organic winery, and includes a one-acre vegetable garden, and a one-acre fruit garden. Due to the heat, we were not able to walk to those gardens, but still got a brief overview of the property and history. Chelsea led us to the shade of a large tree at the edge of a vineyard. There she told us that the two acres of vines were looking at were nearly ripped out when owners Chris Medlock James and Ames Morison purchased the property in 1998. The vineyard had been planted by the previous owner, a sheep rancher, and nobody knew what variety they were. Ames, the head winemaker, was hesitant, however, and decided to walk the vines before excavation. He found a tag on a vine, from a nursery in New York. After a call to the nursery and some research, and they found the answer: Merlot. But not just any Merlot. These vines are Jefferson clones; descendants of vines that Founding Father Thomas Jefferson brought from France to his Virginia estate! With that kind of pedigree, the former Tulane University roommates decided to leave the vines in.

Jefferson Clone Merlot

Grow, Merlot. Grow!

All Medlock Ames are made from 100% organic, estate grown fruit. The winery is fully solar powered. Of the 338 acres on the estate, only about 55 acres are farmed, leaving the rest of the land to its native flora and fauna. There are more than 800 olive trees, five retention ponds for irrigation, and at least 50 barn owl boxes on the property. To help conserve energy, the barrel room is underground, below the production facility.

Speaking of the barrel room, where better to continue the tour on such a hot day? After a brief visit among the fermentation tanks upstairs, we ventured down into the 55 degree cellar to meet Ames, and enjoy some barrel tasting.

The beauty of the Experience Alexander Valley event is that the three of us had about 30-45 minutes of interrupted time with the head winemaker. (I was enjoying myself too much to keep track of time.) We could ask whatever questions we wanted, and he took the time to answer in a way we could all understand. You don’t get that on a party bus tour!

Ames is clearly passionate about what he does, and is very knowledgeable. He thieved us samples of their 2017 Lower Slope Chardonnay, the 2017 50 Tons Cabernet Sauvignon, the 2017 Kate’s & B’s Cabernet Sauvignon, and the 2017 Secret Ingredient Malbec. Each of the wines has a nick-name, and a story. The Kate’s and B’s is named after Chris and Ames’ wives; Kate is Ames’ wife, and B (stands for Bradley) is Chris’ wife. They chose the very best grapes from the very best vineyards to make the wine with their wives’ names on it. Smart men!

From the cellar, we walked back up to the tasting room where Chelsea hosted us in a wine and cheese pairing. The cheeses are all local, Sonoma County artisan cheeses, and paired each of the wine amazingly! I’ll let the pictures tell the story here.

As we were finishing up, I got Robyn’s text letting me know her Experience was over, and she was ready for me to come get her. So I didn’t have time to explore the preserves, marmalades, and olive oils they make with estate fruit. No worries though; that gives me something to look forward to when I bring Robyn on our next visit!

After a quick lunch break, we headed to our next Experience, this time together. Turning up the tree-lined drive to Stonestreet Estate Vineyards, we were taken with the beauty of the property. Here, we were to enjoy a chocolate and Cabernet Sauvignon tasting. Originally scheduled outdoors on their beautiful patio overlooking the valley and nearby Mayacamas Mountain range, they thankfully relocated the tasting indoors, in their air conditioned tasting room.

We were greeted by DTC (Direct to Consumer) Manager, Michelle, and our host and guide for the day, Tasting Room Manager, Samantha. Having never heard of Stonestreet before, we were in for a bit of a surprise.

Video credit: Stonestreet Estate Vineyards

Stonestreet Estate Vineyards owns a large chunk of the Mayacamas Mountains we had admired as we entered the property. 5500 acres, to be more specific. Yet of those 5500 acres, only 800 acres are planted to vines. Committed to sustainable and environmentally friendly winemaking, when the owners purchased the land in 1995, they conducted wildlife studies; migration patterns, breeding grounds, etc. and planted around those areas so as to not disturb the native wildlife. This also helps to keep the critters out of the vineyards. But that wasn’t the biggest surprise. Stonestreet Estate Vineyards is part of Stonestreet Farms, located in Kentucky. Stonestreet Farms breeds thoroughbred race horses, very successfully, including such standouts as Rachel Alexandra (depicted in the beautiful statue on the grounds.) The founder of Stonestreet Farms was Jess Stonestreet Jackson. Jess Jackson. Yes, the Kendall-Jackson Jess Jackson! Surprise! Who knew?

Now on to the chocolate and Cabernet pairing. Some might think that it is difficult to pair chocolate with Cabernet Sauvignon, and it can be. The wine is often too tannic to work well with the creaminess of the chocolate. But Stonestreet sent samples of the wines for the pairing to the local pastry chef they’d commissioned for the event. She, in turn, created the chocolate confections to match each of the wines. It was exquisite! While it was hard to select a favorite, if forced, I’d say mine was third from the left, the Chocolate Budino with huckleberry compote. Robyn fell in love with the Opera Cake (second from left) made with dark chocolate genoise, espresso cream, and topped with a sprig of lemon thyme. Each of the single vineyard Cabernet Sauvignons paired perfectly with the chocolates.

Running a little ahead of schedule allowed Samantha to give us a brief tour of the barrel room, and some photo ops. We also had a chance to sample their Meritage, Bordeaux-style red blend. Made from all five of the noble grapes, it was amazing!

And that’s it. Just two Experiences per day. I’ve prattled on long enough for now, and we’ll cover Sunday later. Robyn will write about her solo Experiences in separate post, too. Oh sure, there was the fantastic blues concert at deLorimier Saturday evening, but Robyn will write about that in her first Experience post.

The biggest takeaways for us on Saturday were these: One, Alexander Valley is a hidden gem; a peaceful wine oasis mere minutes from the crowds and bustle of Napa. There was virtually no traffic all weekend, and no crowds, either. Sure, the heat may have kept some away, but Sunday was much cooler and yet no more crowded.

The other takeaway was this: though the lack of crowds was nice, Experience Alexander Valley was noticeably under-attended. Experiences had capacity for up to 24 guests. Of the four I attended, two had only three guests, one had four, and one had seven. Intimate to be sure, but really, folks, come out next year and let’s make this an event, an Experience, worth repeating! You’ll remember your Experiences forever.

Cheers!

By Kent Reynolds, with Robyn Raphael

Photos by Kent Reynolds and Robyn Raphael, unless otherwise noted.

Experience Alexander Valley, Day 1 – Medlock Ames and Stonestreet It was with eager anticipation that we set off on our journey to the first annual…

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ldnonpoint-blog · 7 years

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TOP 5 places in London that are utter shitholes

I know, here we go, another top 5 list of must see places in London! And like the rest, I’m trying to seem cool, in the know and edgy by not including Big Ben neither. Didn’t see that coming did you? Difference with this article and those conjured by low-rate click bait article sites is a) I’m speaking from actual knowledge and experience and b) I’m not selling article space for money. You know the sites I’m talking about, Londonist, Vice and the plethora of other start ups that permeate social media like the hollow caricatures they are. I mean, they have their purpose, but if you want to see the so called ‘real, non-gentrified’ face of London, what better place to look than a blog site with an opinionated arsehole cabbie as it’s proud custodian?

I’m not including restaurants, bars, clubs, or any of that clap-trap. That’s what search engines are for, and the London Eye? If you’re reading this, you can fuck right off chap. Didn’t like you when you was the biggest ferris wheel in the world, but you’re not even the biggest in Europe now (I blame brexit personally), so serve as much purpose to the city as a skirting board does to the foundations of a house. No one cares.

No… What I’m going to do is isolate streets and particular areas that for me, show the real, unpolished side of London still. A London that will soon be lost to the whirlwind force of the global markets, like coral reefs being bleached of colour and life. A London that shows a glimpse to our past, a nod to our history, and the old industries that once dominated it, and a London that largely goes forgotten and unseen. Until it can be redeveloped, upscaled and marketed to gullible yuppies with more money than sense that is! Ha, yuppies... that’s a word you don’t hear anymore. I’m bringing it back, which I suppose is a form of gentrification in itself really… See? There’s no escaping it. We’re all fucked…

Right, enough mindless and slightly bitter yammering, time to get down to brass tacks.

Roupell Street

It’s a small residential road just off of stamford street and lined either side with compact brick housing surrounded at every angle by high line, glass encased, weirdly shaped monuments to private equity and wealth. It’s where a lot of films and shows such as the Midwife and the latest bio-pic about the Kray’s was filmed, and well worth a gander as this street holds more character than any new build could possibly muster.

2. Poplar High Street

You can’t talk about the real london without mentioning Poplar, which for the most part has warded off the cereal cafes and lycra outfitters of dalston and the like. It’s a great throw back to east end culture, with greasy spoon cafes and churches originally built for sailors and ship builders to frequent. At the east end of the high street sits possibly one of the most ugly concrete tower blocks you can ever imagine. It’s 60’s dystopian architecture on the piss, laying on the ground when it should be erect. Witnessing this before it’s demolished is worth the trip alone.

3. Three colts lane, Bethnal Green

Here we have a series of railway arches filled by car garages and taxi rental firms. Oil stained cobbles and graffitied lined archways, populated by working class grafters from all walks of life. It’s in these nooks and crannies where the real, day to day mechanistic function of the city transpires. From the Cambridge heath road end, the disease of gentrification is slowly sweeping through, turning railway arches into avante garde sandwich bars and spoon carving shops (yes, such a thing exists). Within 20 years, most garages will be forced out to the outskirts, where the rent is cheap and the people scummy, but for now this little slice of unspoiled urban deluge is still here. (If you’re ever down brick lane, near the top is Cheshire street, head all the way down that and that takes you to three colts lanes). Oh, and as an extra note, I once saw a rastafarian and a do-as-you-likee have a full blown-dust up in a garage down here, so you can probably see why I hold this area in such high regard. Couldn’t understand a word either of them said, but it was entertaining all the same, like Snatch but without the subtitles.

4. Pages Walk (where Stompy the tank resides)

Okay, this area is on the cusp of being gentrified but not quite there yet. It’s where old warehouses, scrap yards and storage mills use to lay, and it still holds a certain charm. There’s a few traditional pubs around too, but the gem in the crown is good ol’ stompy the tank himself. He sit’s at the very end of the road, the guardian of pages walk, being placed by a disgruntled landowner in a vendetta against the local council who had refused him permission to build a house on the site. Circumstances may have changed as the whole area around old kent road is set to be carpet bombed by private hedge fund investment anytime soon, but for now, this is still the place Stompy calls home.

5. Thameside Industrial Estate

One of the last remaining refuge for our industrial past, this area sits right opposite city airport. As economics changed and ships grew too big for the narrow river to handle, most shipping and industry was moved a few miles east towards Tilbury in Essex. But there are still momentous that remain, such as the sugar mill and various other abandoned warehouses predominantly used for TV’s and film. I mean, don’t plan to spend your day here, but if you’re ever in the area, a drive around the back end of the airport is always pretty interesting, especially around dawn or dusk.

And so there we have it, your go to guide for central based shit holes. May come across as a little bitter when commenting on the rate of change happening across the city, but it’s not the case. London has always been a huge, shape shifting beast that swallows entire towns and devours entire cultures whole, all for it’s own devious gain. I embrace it, but there’s no harm in sharing a few unsung and hidden pleasures, even if not the most aesthetically pleasing because they won’t be around forever, trust me on that.

Be lucky folks ;D

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