#why is it when a guy does something irredeemable no one bats an eye

[kitsumidori]

Typical "gamer bros will never be normal about female characters" type of behavior.

[soyforramen]

Prompt: betty, jughead, the same hooded/masked figure keeps showing up at their door on Halloween. Creepy or funny? Your choice!

(This is so much better than trying to figure out elasticity of demand, and I absolutely cracked myself up with this, so thank you)

xxx

“Howdy neighbor!” 

Jughead gritted his teeth and nodded at Brett.  Betty elbowed him in the side, smoothly turning it into a wave. While neither of them really liked their neighbors across the street (at least it wasn’t Donna outside setting up the Halloween display), they had to pretend to be polite for a little while.

“Good morning Brett!  Already hard at work I take it.”

“Someone’s got to take back the Pumpkin King title from Southside Lane,” Brett said as he leaned on his pitchfork.  His truck was loaded up with enough hay bales and pumpkins to start a petting zoo.  “Let’s bring some pride back to this neighborhood.”

“It’s fucking September,” Jughead muttered. 

In Brett’s yard was the most benign, suburban version of Halloween.  Pumpkins carved with emojis, hay bales impaled with cartoonish, oversized bats, and gravestones with terrible puns (though Betty had to admit the, I was hoping for a pyramid was pretty amusing).  It was everything that Jughead hated about Halloween, and Betty couldn’t help but be tickled at the thought of him having to see it every morning.  

Jughead grumbled, the rain clouds over his head darkening with every second spent looking at the set up.  

“Good luck with it.  Looking good,” Betty called out.  She herded Jughead and the rest of the groceries into the car, already stifling a laugh at the rant she knew would be coming. 

Nancy Thompson let out a scream just as a knock came from the door.  Jughead and Betty glanced at each other - neither were expecting company, nor had they ordered anything.  Betty set aside her laptop and padded towards the door.  She peeked through the peephole and gasped.  

“Jughead,” she hissed.  

He glanced up and she waved him over.

“What the hell?” he whispered when he looked through the peephole.  “Is that -“

“Somebody dressed up in a Regan mask?” 

“I knew this place was upper middle class, but …”

“But why?” 

Jughead stepped away from the door and shrugged.  “Probably a bunch of high school kids playing a prank.”  

“Still…”

Betty stood on tip-toe to peer through the door.  “And, they’re gone.  I’m going to post this on Nextdoor, certainly we can’t be the only ones who’ve had Regan show up at their door.”

“Honestly zombie Regan would be the best thing that could happen this year,” Jughead said as he walked back to the couch.  

“I’d rather have zombie Nixon.  At least he was impeached,” Betty said, following him to watch Glenn fall into a deep sleep.

Xxx

One week later, and they were watching Keanu Reeves go on a face journey through Transylvania.  The door rang, and Jughead groaned.  Betty snuggled in closer to his side and they both ignored the doorbell.  Insistently, it rang again and again, only to stop suddenly.  He untangled himself from her and went to the door.

“I swear, if it’s Archie needing a ladder again … It’s Obama,” he whispered.

“What?” 

Jughead shushed her.  “I think it’s that weirdo again.  Only they’re in an Obama mask this time.”

Betty rushed towards the door and pushed him aside.  “What the hell?”

As she watched, the figure turned and walked off into the darkness of night.  She waited until the figure left, and cracked open the door.  

“Gone again.”  Jughead stepped onto front porch, Betty close behind, but they couldn’t see any sign of life.  “What did your Nextdoor people have to say.”

“You mean our neighbors?” Betty shook her head and pulled out her phone.  “No one else has seen anything, but Mr. Tate’s cat escaped again, so you might want to slow down when you turn the corner.”

“Hey guys!”  

They turned to find Archie, their next door neighbor, waving at them from his garage.  

“Do you think I could borrow your ladder?”

Xxxx

Two weeks until Halloween, and the neighborhood had exploded in festive decorations.  The Blossoms’ two story manse had exploded in gothic horror decor imported from the south of France - “Allegedly,” Jughead had snarked - while the Lodge-Andrews had gone with simple, yet tasteful hints of the season.   Along with the change in temperature had come an orange, passive-aggressive reminder about the HOA’s suggestion that every house participate in celebrating the holidays as a way to join the neighborhood in camaraderie. 

“Let’s just put out a pumpkin -“

“No, not happening,” Jughead snapped.  “I didn’t buy a house just to have some yuppie board - who aren’t even elected -“

“Just because you protested voting doesn’t mean they weren’t elected,” Betty reminded him. 

“-Trying to control how I spend my time and money, it’s, it’s…”

“Un-American?” 

“Immoral!  To take a commercial holiday like Halloween, meant to sell more candy and increase dental decay, and turn it into some requirement -“

A knock at the door and a cheery voice cut through their argument.  They both cursed when they realized who it was.  Jughead stalked off to the basement and Betty made a mental note that this was the third time he’d left her to deal with the Westen Wallis’ alone.  

“For better or worse my ass,” she muttered as she went to the door.  

“Guten Morgen, neighbors!  Donna made of her famous delectable pumpkin Tartts’ Tarts -“

“Tarts from the tart,” Betty muttered before she opened the door with a wide smile.  “Why thank you, this is ever so thoughtful.  And me without anything else to send back with you.”

Brett’s smile grew, and Betty feared for her soul.  “Actually, I don’t know if you saw the flyer -“

“Yes, about the Halloween decorations?  I just don’t know if we’ll get to it this year.  Jughead’s been so busy with school, and I’ve -“

“It’s just that it’s a traditions, you know.  And we do it for the kids,” Brett said.  Betty slowly shut the door, but he continued moving to keep eye contact.  “It’s the talk of the town, and it would -“

His words muffled and Betty walked straight to the kitchen and dumped the tarts into the trash.  

“You owe me Jones,” she yelled out on her way upstairs.

xxx

“Why doesn’t she just go outside again?” Betty asked. 

Black Christmas, while not technically a horror movie, was still on Jughead’s required October Horror-Thon, as well as on his anti-commerical-Christmas playlist.  Despite seeing it twice a year for the last fifteen years, Betty still hadn’t gotten a good answer out of him for the seemingly huge plot idiocy.

“Horror movie rules,” Jughead said through a mouthful of popcorn.  “If she goes outside, they don’t have a way to establish how big of a threat the killer is.”

“Then why doesn’t he just wait outside to kill her?”

“That’s not -“

A knock came from the door, and Betty gave him a look.  

“I dealt with your neighbor this morning.”

“You’re right, it was terrible and treacherous of me, I’m a terrible husband,” Jughead said.  He kissed Betty on the tip of her nose and she pulled him down to meet his lips.  The knock came again and they both rolled their eyes.  

“Don’t forget to put out your pumpkin,” Betty called in a sing-song voice. “Who is it this time?”

“Taft or Cleveland.  Which one had a mustache?” he asked as he turned towards her. 

“Both of them I think.”

“Do you think if I tell them we’re socio-anarchists they’ll go away?”

Betty snorted.  

He opened the door and leaned over.  “At least they left a ransom note this time.”  

Jughead closed the door and double checked the locks while he waved an orange paper at Betty.  

“Let me guess, decorations?” Betty took the paper from him and squinted at the paper.  “Does that say pumpkin or party favor?”

“Either way I refuse to participate.  Did you fast forward this?”

xxx

The day before Halloween, and Jughead braced himself for the onslaught of gaudy, irredeemable tons of plastic and paper decorations that would end up in the trash two days later.  A waste of good materials, and all for what?  A waste of a perfectly good holiday, that’s what.  

He squinted against the morning sun, throwing his school bag into the back of the car.  Seven AM came far too early when all the parents wanted to argue about last night was whether or not Halloween costumes should be allowed rather than thinking about shifting some of the football budget towards something more useful, like new textbooks.  

“Ohayogozimasu!”  Brett chirped from across the street. He looked both ways - twice - and jogged his way over to where Jughead stood.  

Jughead dropped his head and counted to ten.  He wasn’t caffeinated enough for this. 

“Hello, Brett.”

“I see you haven’t put anything out for Halloween yet.  I have some extra decorations if you want.”

Murder is not an option, Jughead thought in a voice that sounded suspiciously like Betty.  Especially when my commute is only ten minutes, the voice reminded him.

“No, thank you Brett.”

“Are you sure?  Because I know you and Betty have only been here for a few months, but we’re all really big -“

“No, thank you, Brett,” Jughead said through gritted teeth.  

Brett held up his hands and smiled that inane politician smile of his.  “Okay, but if you change your mind…”

“Goodbye, Brett,” Jughead said as he opened his door.  Safe in his now locked car, Jughead dropped his head to the steering wheel and reminded himself that they’d moved here because of Betty, for Betty’s career, and it didn’t matter how idiotic the rest of the world was, not when -

A tapping on the glass and Jughead rethought over the consequences of manslaughter.  Ten to fifteen wouldn’t be that bad.

“Yes, Brett,” he said after he’d cracked the glass.

“Just wanted to remind you that me and the missus are having a little get together tonight about Halloween candy -“

Jughead slipped the car in reverse and let it roll towards the street.  Brett jogged to catch up.

“-After all, we don’t want the children -“

It wasn’t until Bon Nuit street that Brett finally peeled off to finish his early morning jog on Stonewall street, that Jughead could breath a sigh a relief.

Xxx

“That was ad libbed,” Jughead said through a mouthful of noodles.

“What?  The dominatrix suit?” Betty asked.  She stole his wonton and he put up a fight even though they both knew he’d have given her his entire order if she asked.

“‘Jesus wept.’  Originally it was supposed to be ‘Fuck off.’”

“Good change.”

The knock at the door came again, and both residents slammed their bowls down.  Together they walked to the door and jerked it open.  George Washington, sans dentures, stared at them.  

“Well?  What do you want?” Betty asked, arms crossed.

The figure held out a sheet, and Jughead shook his head.   “No more games.”

With a growl, the figure yanked off the mask to reveal …

“Donna?” 

“Put out a damn pumpkin,” Donna snapped.  “I have been listening to Brett bitch for the last month, and if I have to listen to one more -“ she pitched up her voice and in a simpering tone said, “-Betty and Jughead I will murder everyone on this block.” 

Donna threw the paper at Jughead and stalked off into the night.  

“And put up a damn snowman in December,” she yelled.

Betty and Jughead exchanged glances.  

“No decorations?”  she asked.

He smirked.  “No decorations.”

[animemangasoul]

Save Him From Him!

Summery: The team thinks the bats are marrying Tim off to Ra’s al ghul, so they confront them. The bats unfortunately don’t know what the hell is going on. 

Me and the lovely @miss-choco-chips are hopefully going to make a coherent fic out of this

Chapter 1

Kon had never liked Tim’s family.

His best friend might find redeemable qualities in them, but Kon has always known the kind of people they were. Sleazy, weird, neglectful and frankly very very creepy.

Tim of course never noticed because he too was very creepy and in the kindest of terms, also a weirdo who came off as a stalker. 

Not that he was. Following a vigilante in the dead of night with a camera was more in the brackets of observation than stalking and Kon would stick with that till the day he died.

Anyways, as he was saying. The batfamily were irredeemable blotch in Tim’s life and while Kon has resigned himself to share his friend with them because custody and all that, he had never ever imagined that they would sell him off! That they not only would grow tired of him but would actually take the offending and criminal actions to do something about his quote on quote unwanted “presence”.

Bruce Wayne had come to an agreement with Ra’s Al Ghul according to Bart’s sources and the agreement was set around their Tim.

Bruce had promised their Tim to the demon head! In exchange for three years of peace. As if that even mattered to Batman. If that man cared so much about peace and justice he would have advocated for the death penalty in Gotham a long time ago. No, Kon had his sneaking suspicions about Bruce’s relationship with the Joker, but it wasn’t his place to say so he kept his mouth shut.

Poor Jason would be heartbroken if he knew after all.

So for what other reason was this arrangement made under? Kon couldn’t quite tell. Sure he knew they didn’t like Tim, but if Bruce disliked his best friend and wanted to get rid of him, why hadn’t he promised to wed him to any of them? Kon was sure Cassie or Bart would be up for it, or even Miguel and Cissie? So why?

Kon is angry, furious, horrified about this whole uncovered plot.

Bart and Cassie aren’t any different. 

Tim of course doesn’t know, and if Kon gets his way he never will.

“Maybe this is a misunderstanding?” Someone says.

Kon turns to glare at Miguel. ‘How naive’ he thinks. ‘How little you know.’

“It’s not a misunderstanding dude,” Bart jumps out of his chair, a stack of paper in hand which he promptly shoves at the other hero. “Read.”

Miguel does. Eyes quickly skimming over the report Bart’s spy had so generously provided them. And it’s a lot but the front page summarizes must of it.

Batman had visited the league, him and Ra’s had talked.

“And Ra’s said he’ll back off if he got Tim,” Miguel reads out loud. “What the--”

His eyes are wide as he throws paper after paper over his shoulder trying to grasp the context of the file. Bart is darting behind him catching each flying paper, spluttering in indignation as he does so. 

“Can you not do this!”

“That’s exactly what Tim’s siblings should have said to Bruce!” Miguel bursts out, eyes as wide as dinner plates. “How could he just promise him Tim! My Ti-- I mean our Tim! He could have given him anything else..... like that Jason fellow!”

“Dude, that’s not---”

“Like Ra’s didn’t even ask for Tim specifically!” Throwing another three leaflets he points at a paragraph on page fifteen. “He just alludes to it, so why did Bruce decide to give him--”

“Cuz he probably did that weird thing with his eyes,” Cassie scoffs, demonstrating the action by wiggling her brows and squinting her eyes in that distinct way Ra’s always-- “Batman,” she slurs. “I have missed a certain someone’s company~”

Kon feels sick. Miguel turns green and Bart grimaces. 

Yeah, that did not need to happen.

“Don’t ever do that again,” Kon tells her, eyes watering with pained memories. “Just.... don’t.”

She snorts. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah don’t,” Miguel mutters. “There is already enough memories about that guy burned in our heads I rather you not add to it.”

Trauma was really a powerful thing.

“So,” Bart interrupts Kon musing. “What are we going to do about this?”

Kon folds his arms. “We need to confront them. No way we can let this go through. I think the reason why Bruce agreed so readily to this exchange was cuz he hates Tim’s guts and wants to get rid of him.”

“But Tim is so wonderful,” Miguel mutters. “Why would anyone want to get rid of him?”

Shrugging, Kon grimaces. “Beats me. The bats are a strange bunch. Anyways, it doesn’t really matter now. We just have to go there and,” his reaches out and clenches and unclenches his fists

“Squash their heads?” Cassie guesses.

“What, no!” Kon snaps.

“Kidnap Beelzebub and hold him for ransom till they change their minds?” Bart pipes up.

Kon shakes his head, pauses and shakes it again. “No, but that’s a good one. Hold that thought.”

“Talk to them reasonable and maybe.... hopefully it’s all a misunderstanding?”

Oh Miguel, you innocent naive, Tim loving soul you. “Fuck no,” Kon mutters. “We can trust their evil conniving hearts. When dealing with the bats always assume the worst.”

“Then what?” Bart asks, half of the papers clutches to his chest while the others dangle from Miguel’s hands.

“We confront them, threaten them,” Kon starts. “And if they won’t take it back, we...” snapping his fingers he points at Bart--. “We kidnap the gremlin and threaten to squash his head.”

Cassie looks both annoyed and skeptical, but the other two look onboard so Kon grins. “Sounds like a plan?”

They nod, he nods back. “Let’s go then and break that engagement before Tim wakes up for his hourly coffee!!”

A shouts of yeah ok and yes and oh God sounds all around, but Kon is glad for the general moral optimism. Maybe this exchange with the batfamily wouldn’t end in a disaster. 

Kon had to thank Prue later for providing Bart this crucial intel. Without her, they would have never known of this evil scheme. 

@miss-choco-chips Do take it from here! 

[fallen029]

Bad Person

"I think I'm a bad person."

This was a very profound statement it felt like, to the slayer, as it slipped through his lips and into the darkness of his bedroom. Laxus had only just come to this conclusion for the first time in his entire life and it felt rather groundbreaking, world shattering, but the woman beside him hardly even stirred.

"Oh, dragon," Mira yawned, blinking her sleepy blue eyes up at him. "I know."

He blinked as as well, Laxus did. A few times in fact. Then he found his typical snarl befall his face once more as he remarked, "What do you mean? You know what? How am I a bad person?"

"Why are you getting grumpy, Lax?" She reached over with one hand just to tickle his chin and, not amused, he only batted it away. "You just said you thought so too."

"I," he complained, "have just spent the past two hours weighing all of my life choices very deliberately. You just woke up, yawned, and claimed it with no thought at all."

"I was woken up," she corrected. "By you. So I think I have at least a little inkling of what kind of person you are."

"Mirajane-"

"It's okay, dragon. I didn't say you were a horrible person. Or an irredeemable one." That time, she shifted closer to him so they could lay with their heads touching, her on her side, him with just his head turned to it, as they took one another in under the cover of darkness. "But it's like the old saying, right? Opposites attract. And I am an obviously good person."

"How obvious is it? Huh?"

"Uh, pretty, thanks."

"Demon-"

"I'm a good person," she repeated. "And you're a bad person. That's how all relationships work."

"Excuse me?"

Nodding, she said, "Think about all our friends and all their relationships."

"I don't have any friends."

"I know and it's really sad." She made a face. "But consider all the people who want to be your friend instead. I know there's only three, but-"

"Mira-"

"Okay, think about my friends," she decided. "Natsu and Lucy are dating now."

"Fucking gross." Then he frowned. "Which one of them is a good person and which is the bad? Huh?"

"It's pretty obvious."

"How?"

"Lucy is the good person," Mira explained. "And Natsu is the bad."

"I have no complaints," the slayer assured her, "but a few questions."

"Think of it like this; Lucy has to think about the things she does. Considers them, right? And always makes sure that she at least tries to do the good thing. Natsu doesn't. He just does things. Are they overwhelmingly good? Maybe. But that's through no struggle of his own. It's just always coincidence."

"It sounds like you're just saying you and Lucy are good people 'cause you're both chicks," he remarked. "Sexist."

"Hardly," she chided with a click of her tongue. "Evergreen's the bad person between her and Elfman."

"I… I actually have no complaints with that."

Nodding, Mira said, "That's why you have no friends."

"What?"

"If you tried to argue that Natsu was the good person and Lucy was the bad, I would have defended Lucy." And her eyes flashed just a bit in the darkness, or maybe it was just his imagination, but he could have sworn there was a purple hue intermixed with her blue irises. "To the death."

"Yeah, I don't care about your lame friends that much, Mira."

"Or your own."

He huffed then, just a bit, which got his breath all over her face and Mirajane recoiled causing him to only huff some more.

"It's not that bad."

"Can you not smell it?"

"You know, I woke you up to have a deep, serious, introspective conversation about myself. I feel like I should be able to expect that from my long-time girlfriend."

"I went to sleep after working from dawn to dusk at a busy guildhall, knowing I'd have to be right back at it the next morning, only for you to wake me up for your pity party over a fact I think, deep down, you've always known." Then Mira hummed. "Someone, I did expect this from my long-time boyfriend."

He was fed up then, clearly, and rightfully he felt and only turned his back on the woman then, tugging the blankets up around his chin.

"Dragon-"

"No. Fuck you."

"Excuse me?"

He was too busy stewing to consider any consequences; or to fear them.

"I'll just be a bad person all by myself," he went on and Mirajane rolled her eyes, at first, before sighing some as she came to snuggle him up from behind.

She couldn't see his expression, but knew it to be rather grim, if not down right annoyed as she wrapped an arm around him and leaned up to rest her head atop his, cheek to cheek. He squirmed at first, but he was already so close to the edge of the bed, he had little means for escape.

She'd feel bad for this, if not a bit exploitative, had he not, you know, just finished cursing at her.

And waking her up.

"Oh, dragon," she sighed and he hated when she did that, man, did he hate when she did that, but Mira merely went on. "Why do you always do this to yourself?"

"Get you to lay all on me when I'm clearly not in the mood? I really don't know."

"Get down on yourself," she chided as he grumbled. "You do, Laxus. Constantly."

"Do not."

"Do too."

"Name one other time-"

"We can be having a perfectly normal day and, oh, there's your issues with your dad. Or Master. Or your mother. Or literally ever other person in your life. Or you're going off about how unlovable you are or how you don't think that you can ever be happy or-"

"Do I make you miserable, Mira? Or something?"

"No," she hummed, snuggling him closer as the man continued to glare at the wall. "I don't mind when you whine about your life."

"If I treated you like this-"

"You cursed at me. I don't have to be nice to you after that."

He only grumbled.

"Why do you think you're a bad person? Dragon?" she asked finally. "I'm being serious now."

Letting out a slow breath, he decided to be as well.

"I was just weighing everything I've ever done, like seriously, ever single thing I can think of having done that might have been bad or might have been good and I just think that… I don't know. I feel like, being a mage, there should be an obvious, overwhelming amount of good. Not...what I ended up with."

"I mean, are you weighing things properly?"

"What do you mean?"

"You saved the world. A lot. Or were at least involved in it. I don't think you've done anything that outweighs that." Then she paused. "Have you?"

"It's deeper than that," he groaned.

"I think that you think it's deeper than that and have a problem with making things worse than they are, but really, you're not that bad of a person. At all." She patted his chest that time. "I'm still the good person though, in the relationship and you're the bad, but… You're not a bad guy, Laxus. So stop beating yourself up constantly over these things. Everything you've done has already been done. You can't go back. So stop forcing yourself to think about it. If you can't sleep, like really just can't, then just…" She sighed that time before turning her head to press an awkward kiss against his cheek. "Wake me up. And I'll remind you of all the great things about you."

"Will you?"

"Of course I will, Laxus."

She released him then (it was actually rather uncomfortable for her as well, to hold him like that) to tumble back into her own side of the bed, but was quickly gathered up herself by the slayer, who'd turned as well.

"Dragon-"

"Do you promise? Demon?"

That time her hum was less condescending and more warm.

"I mean," she answered as he was the one to kiss her cheek then, "you'll just wake me up if I don't."

"I have a lot to think about. That keeps me up. Sometimes."

"I know." Relaxing into his hold, Mira's eyes drifted shut once more. "It's okay. It goes along with being the worst person in the relationship."

They both fell silent then and, eventually, she even shifted away from him as the man only fell onto his back to blink up at the dark ceiling once more.

"I guess," he told her then, "sometimes I just feel like I'm trying, like really trying hard, to be better, but I just… Are you asleep? Mira? It's physically impossible to already be… Never mind."

But just as he resounded to only the darkness to keep him company, she reached out blindly and tiredly behind herself, to pat at his chest, and yeah, he still had a lot to say, but the feel made him let out a long held breath.

He had more than just the darkness.

Even if it didn't always feel that way.

[drunklander]

Drunj!Der Yells About Outlander

Thoughts on Ep. 402

It shouldn’t be surprising when I say this post is going to be less jokey than last week. If that’s not your jam, I recommend you stop reading now and maybe just sing “Everyone is Garbage” to the tune of Everything is Awesome while you instead go watch the entirety of Underground, or the Rosa Parks episode of Doctor Who.

I have to say, the producers on this show have said a lot of dumb shit in the past. From “Frank’s a good guy!” when he’s portrayed as being objectively awful on screen to “We don’t shy away from the horrors of the past because we’re so daring like that!” as a justification of their need to rape or assault everyone with a pulse. But one of the dumbest things in recent memory was at NYCC when Ron tried to claim that Outlander isn’t a political show.

Bullshit. Everything is political.

Using America the Beautiful to underscore how America didn’t, and still doesn’t, live up to the ideals we sing about in our romanticized versions of our history was political. Albeit in an overly heavy-handed way. Choosing to do an episode about slavery that focuses solely on white people and not the enslaved, who are just there as props for the white people’s moral dilemmas, is political. Choosing to show a lynching on screen in a time when Black people are still being killed in horrifying numbers at the hands of white people who are supposed to serve and protect, in a time when Black people have the police called on them while simply having a cookout in a public park, in a time when a white man can shoot an unarmed Black boy and walk away with no consequences, is political.

How we portray Black bodies on screen matters. And in this instance, a *very* white show chose to frame enslaved people as the props against which they highlight the guilt of the white protagonists.

I really do wish they included someone checking to see if Claire, who had a man killed right in front of her, was ok. But instead she just does the emotional labor of assuaging Jamie’s guilt over Bonnet’s attack. Because doing emotional labor is just what women do. *flips off the patriarchy and also the producers*

Young Ian’s awe at River Run, how it’s befitting a king, just highlights how he has no context for what the symbol of a big white plantation house means for so many people. That image is so laden with white supremacy it should immediately trigger a bad taste in any decent person’s mouth. Go ahead and @ me.

Jocasta Cameron is straight garbage, but Maria Doyle Kennedy is fucking amazing. A++ casting, show.

Not sure if the parallel of Jocasta telling Claire to call her Auntie and Claire telling Phaedre and Mary to call her Claire was intentional or not. Will have more to say about that in a second...

Honest question, if the dog who plays Rollo is so poorly trained that they have to cut him out of most scenes, why didn’t they get a different dog? Slash, I thought they’d been training this one since it was a puppy?

“Some River Run hospitality.” *feels nauseous*

I SO hope they don’t do the Jocasta and Ulysses having an affair storyline from the books. Please, show, don’t do it.

Show!Jocasta is so much more overtly garbage than book!Jocasta. This is a woman who had to flee her country after the Rising because of how horrible the English were to the Scots. Yet she doesn’t bat an eye at the concept of keeping human beings as property. Even with Jamie, she isn’t thinking of him as his own person, but rather someone she can make do her bidding and use for her own purposes. She should fucking know better, but the promise of benefiting from white supremacy is apparently more beneficial than actually having morals. Fuck you, Jocasta.

Claire’s palpable discomfort with being led around by an enslaved man juxtaposed with Jamie thinking nothing of it as he reminisces about his mother is just the start of me side-eyeing Jamie a lot this episode.

Don’t worry, I’m an equal opportunity side-eye’er. Claire’s gonna get her share of it too. Starting with her asking Phaedre and Mary to call her Claire.

Claire. You know all about chattel slavery. You know it’s wrong. You know how enslaved people are treated. Why the fuck would you ask Phaedre and Mary to put themselves in a position to potentially face serious consequences for not being “properly deferential” to a white person just to make yourself feel better about being complicit in their enslavement. She’s prioritizing making herself feel better at the expense of the potential well-being of Phaedre and Mary. JFC, Claire, do not endanger the marginalized people you claim to care about in the name of wokeness.

The skunk bit with Young Ian and John Quincy Myers is a tad off-putting tbh. I love that Ian wants to learn about Native Americans and looks to find similarities with them rather than think of them as “savages,” but like they’re having this convo while completely ignoring the fact that an enslaved boy is filling the tub and like immediately just start talking about banging Native American women. It just feels like they were stretching for some levity when the characters in this episode don’t deserve any.

Jamie: “Uncle Hector and you have achieved a great amount here, Auntie.” Me:

Jocasta: “I purchase them in lots, in order to keep those with children together.” Me:

“Over the years, I found my slaves to be more productive when treated with benevolence. You see, I don’t actually see them as people. I only treat them nicely so my property can reach its maximum potential output. I am a garbage human and the myth of the benevolent slave owner is just bullshit that white people tell themselves to absolve themselves of the fact that they benefit from white supremacy.”

That Jocasta can refer to the people she enslaves as both too expensive to be livestock and friends in almost the same breath is peak caucasity. Seriously, show!Jocasta is an irredeemably shit person.

Also Jamie being like oh well done, Auntie, you are so nice to these people makes me want to punch him in his dumbass face. Show!Jamie has been on my last nerve for a while tbh.

Like bro, you literally lived in a cave for fucking years because the English were out to fuck Scots up. You were in prison for fucking years. You served on an English estate, where you were raped, for fucking years. And now you see people who were ripped from their homes and families and brought across the sea against their will (hey remember your nephew, Ian?) and you’re like oh Auntie, you’re such a nice white lady. Go fuck yourself, Jamie.

Jocasta playing the woman card with Jamie to justify her needing him to get involved with the enslaved labor on her plantation is something Colum would be proud of.

And Jocasta being like hey, “Claire, you’ve been homeless for a hot minute, shower me in praise for how nice my slave-run house is as I ‘graciously’ let you stay here” is such a power move in the worst possible way. Colum and Dougal raise a glass from whatever afterworld they ended up in.

Claire, girl, why couch your opposition to slavery in the Quaker influence. Own your opinions on this. Take a fucking stand. There are things in life worth standing up for. This is fucking one of them.

Oh Jenny. I love that she wrote to Jocasta about Claire. But also last season still turned me the hell off from show!Jenny so really I don’t like that lady.

Fuck each and every one of these yuppie white men.

Aw, woke-ish!Ian. Yes, it was their land, but let’s please not think of the Native American women as sexual conquests like you were earlier. KThxBai.

Ok for real, after living at Leoch and scheming through Paris and then being fucked over by Bonnet, Jamie sure doesn't learn much about people being sneaky. How does he not see where Jocasta was going when she so readily positioned him in a position of authority on the plantation.

Jamie, bro, buying into the benevolent slave owner narrative is not a good look. And by not a good look, I mean you are a garbage person. I get that that’s the point, but still.

Ok so the book frames Campbell as a friend to the Frasers, and the show is trying to frame him as someone genuinely trying to look out for the Frasers’ best interest. But he has also resigned himself to the reality of his current situation with no desire to try to make things better since it would mean making a personal sacrifice. To which I say, fuck you very much, you coward.

Hi, I’m Der, and I’m of the opinion that if you are in a place of privilege and see bigotry and oppression taking place, it’s your duty to stand the fuck up and try to make a change. 

“If we take the Tryon option, we don’t need to feel bad about slavery and can just bask in our white privilege on stolen Native American land and not have to deal with the consequences of accepting free land from the English, y’know, the people we hate, for almost a decade.” Cool, Jamie. Cool cool cool. Remember last episode when you were almost woke? 

Claire acting naive about what’s going to happen to Rufus should seem out of character. She went back into the past knowing full well how things were there. She knew that if she went back, she’d be in a time where this was the reality. Yes, she thought she’d be in Scotland, but that’s just another sign of her fucking privilege. She was like oh, I’ll just be in Edinburgh and not have to consider slavery. Joe Abernathy did not deserve the shaft he got in season three and he does not deserve fucking peak-white-privilege-the-past-is-fine-because-it-doesn’t-really-affect-me Claire as his friend.

Scrub Nurse!Ian is literally the only positive part of this episode.

This entire scene of a room of white guys being like “we need to uphold the law!” makes me want to kick the shit out of each and every fucker who has ever owned a confederate battle flag t-shirt or a bumper sticker. 

Also fuck each and every person who voted for the authoritarian narcissist who currently occupies the white house in 2016 or any of his fucking lackeys in the midterms. All these fuckers are straight garbage. And all the fuckers defending the authoritarian tendencies of the current administration can go fuck themselves. Go ahead and @ me.

“Don’t worry, my husband is heir to this estate.” Oh don’t fucking delude yourself, Claire. Rufus is going to die. And you are complicit in his death. Fucking own it.

*insert obligatory Joe Abernathy deserved better rant here*

I don’t like giving partial credit, but at least the show let fucking Rufus tell his own story. Just for a little bit though.

Ok I’m calling fucking bullshit that Ulysses, a man who (I don’t care what his relationship with Jocasta has been) has been enslaved for years, fucking calls Claire out and tells her she should have let Rufus die. Way to fucking try to absolve Claire by having a Black, enslaved man try to make her upcoming actions ok.

Don’t act naive, Claire. You know how this was going to end. Rufus was always going to die. You are complicit. There is no escaping that. Fucking own your part. Fucking own your privilege. And also fuck the show for centering this so much on the fucking white people.

Rufus didn't get to be an active participant in his own death. Claire should *not* have been absolved of her decision to kill him by having him ask her to do it. But by not even telling him what she's doing, she's just another white person making decisions for him without his consent. She also should have known to kill him without Jamie telling her to. *gestures at the Graham Menzies part of the books* She knows what's about to happen. She should accept that by choosing to be in the southern colonies, she's going to be complicit in slavery. She made her bed when she decided to go back into the past and now she should have to lay in it. 

Sure she may not have known that she’d end up in the colonies, but she still knew she’d be going back to a time when she’d end up being part of something that is morally abhorrent. But apparently getting that ginger dick was worth it.

It’s cute they do a parallel of her helping Rufus to die with her helping Geordie to die. But I can’t help but think this is as much for her as for him.

Every white person in this episode is trash. As they fucking should be.

Fuck everyone who defends the continued existence of confederate memorial statues tbh.

I know that’s out of left field, but yeah, fuck those people.

The fact that this shit is bringing up very real feelings about today’s political climate makes me fucking angry at the fuckers around today and also the fucking production crew for trying to cater to the meemaws by saying the show isn’t political.

Fuck Jamie for being like yeah, I can just pray this shit away. No. God is a cop out. You did this. YOU. You need to own this. Don’t you dare hide behind your faith. You will not be absolved.

Fuck this show for showing a fucking lynching and them immediately cutting to Claire’s face to make the lynching about her white guilt. Fuck them. 

If Jamie and Claire really don't want to be complicit in the atrocities of colonial America, they should move to a city where they could join in the work of starting to dismantle the things they claim to be morally opposed to. Instead they embrace their privilege of getting to ignore slavery by leaving River Run next week and go out to colonize Native American lands.

And just think. After all of this. After witnessing a lynching. In a couple episodes, Jamie’s gonna voluntarily send a guy into slavery! 

Fuck.

Please all go read Ta-Nehisi Coates’ Between the World and Me. KThxBai.

[smores100]

some druck thoughts regarding alex's 'admit you're not a lesbian and go on a date with me' message, bc i've seen people trying to defend it by saying that, based on mia’s behavior, it's natural for him to assume she's jealous and lying, and i have some Thoughts on the matter...

what bothers me is that no, it *shouldn't* be natural of him to assume that. as far as he knows, mia told him she's a lesbian (or heavily implied it by saying he's not her type and then kissing hanna), and if he hurts kiki she's gonna end him. why is the ONLY possible explanation for this is she's a jealous straight girl lying about her sexuality, and not that she's a nosy lesbian who's very concerned and overprotective of her friend??? this is such a typical straight guy mindset, similar to guys who think the only reasons a girl would reject their advances is if she's gay, or there's something wrong with her, or she's just playing hard to get. he could've phrased his message as a question, like 'are you really a lesbian? bc ngl i'm beginning to doubt it...' (similar to what he told her at school, how if he didn't know she was a lesbian he'd think she was jealous), and it might've made it a bit less offensive. but the fact that he phrases it much more as a FACT, like 'i KNOW you made that lesbian stuff up, there’s no way you’re gay, it's so obvious that you're jealous bc what else could it be, just admit that you're into me' - that's a yikes. and you know who would think/believe/assume something like that? a fuckboy who's not used to girls telling him 'no'.

is this one thing enough to make him irredeemable and cancel him? not necessarily. boys are dumb. teenage boys are even dumber. and flawed characters usually make for a more interesting story. you can say ignorant and problematic things, as long as you later on understand and acknowledge that they were ignorant and problematic, apologize for them, learn and grow from them, and try to be and do better in the future. we'll have to wait and see how the story unfolds, and what kind of development alex's character goes through. 

but as of RIGHT NOW, based ONLY on what we know, and ignoring *everything* we know from the og? all we know about alex is he likes to sleep around with girls in school (without a condom? i have all my skams mixed idr for sure) and then treat them like they're not worth much (or at least that's what he did with kiki) (which he at least apologized for later on); he dismisses mia’s sexuality and thinks the only reason for her to be obsessed about his and kiki's relationship is jealousy (a lesbian? being concerned about her friend? seems unrealistic); he's willing to dump the girl he's in a somewhat serious relationship with (and has been for quite some time) just like that, without even batting an eye, just to go on a date with someone else; and he gladly uses the knowledge he has - mia caring about kiki -  to his advantage, knowing that if mia really does care about kiki as much as she claims she does, then she'll have no choice but to agree to that date - even if she doesn't want to, even if she's said in the past that she's not interested, even if she claims that she's a lesbian. (do people really not see the problem with that...?). that's all we know about him thus far. and based on that? it's not a good look, y'all. people aren't hating just bc they like hating on all versions of william. they're hating bc he has yet to say or do anything to justify otherwise. let's hope he will! 🤞

as for mia saying she's a lesbian when she isn't in order to make him back off - i'm straight, so i don’t think it’s my place to say whether that's problematic or not. i know some queer people are offended when straight people lie about their sexuality like that, especially if that's the only portrayal of homosexuality on screen, and i can totally understand that. it's why i'm hoping all the 'was that screenshot fake or not??? did the druck team lie or not???' drama ends soon with mia admitting (out loud on the show) that she's bi. but i will say this: i get hating how straight girls use 'i'm a lesbian' as an excuse to make boys leave them alone. but i think what's even worse is how often straight girls feel FORCED to lie and say they're lesbians or have a boyfriend in order to get guys to leave them tf alone, bc they're afraid that just a simple 'not interested' won't be enough. how sad and awful is that...?

[comeondowntosouthparkrpg-blog]

Eric Cartman

out of character info

Name/Alias: Tots

Pronouns: she/her

Age: 19

Join Our Discord: lmao already in here tho

Timezone: EST

Activity: depends on my mood- but on a good day I can be about an 8

Triggers: n/a

Password: Jwimmy can fwast pass mwy awss uwu

Character that you’re applying for: Eric Cartman

Favourite ships for your character: Eric x getting kicked in the balls really fucking hard

in character info

Full name: Erin Theodore Cartman

Birthday: July 1st

Sexuality, gender, pronouns: bisexual, male, he/him

Age and grade: 17, senior

Appearance: Super BUFF, mega RIPPED, hella HAWT-

Puberty and a lack of hygiene hit Eric Cartman like a baseball bat to a toddler’s teeth. Eric’s skin is greasy and pimply, his brown eyes are beady and swallowed by fat, he constantly smells of fast food and BO, his clothing is usually grimey and stained by food, his hair, while a pleasing auburn shade, is short and greasy. Whatever facial structure he could have had is hidden under double chins and years of bad eating. It’s as round as the rest of him. He has no neck, it’s just a layer of fat flopped over his shoulders.

Eric is short, standing at 5ft 5 inches. Due to a lack of self control he’s morbidly obese. His knees hurt when he walks and anything more physical than a slow pace makes him pour sweat and pant like a dog.

When Eric is attempting to manipulate someone or is dressing up to pull a scheme, he pulls out all the stops with wearing nice clothes and as clean as humanly possible. Otherwise however, he does not give two shits. Afterall, why bother spending time showering when you can use that time to eat more KFC?

Eric’s wardrobe never changed, plain pants and tshirts are still his signature clothing style. In an attempt to make Eric more independant, Liane tried insisting Eric wash his own clothes. Eric instead refused to do so and chooses to continue wearing his dirty clothes until she can’t stand the sight or smell anymore and washes his clothes for him. It’s a recurring, endless cycle.

Despite all this, Eric continues to be under the delusion that he is a complete and utter chick magnet that makes all pussies in a 200 square foot radius wet. He’s convinced that there’s nothing wrong with his appearance and that he’s insanely good looking.

Personality: Eric could have been a good person. He had the potential inside him at one point before his anger and vileness took over.

Now, Eric is complete and utter, irredeemable flaming human garbage. He is racist, abusive, quick to anger and never thinks ahead unless it stands to benefit him. He constantly lies and looks to see how he can make any situation make him better. Eric can and will do anything he possibly can to get his way no matter what.

Eric is wildly self centered and can’t stand the idea of anyone around him not wanting to be at his beck and call. He’s broken in his mother to obeying his every whim and becomes enraged when she tries to put her foot down. He is a master manipulator and does not care one bit about anyone around him whatsoever. Eric truly does not feel empathy for people around him- he is the stereotype of a dangerous sociopath.

Eric thinks nothing of people around him, seeing a person cry and be hurt makes him laugh like nothing else. He is a genuine racist and hates Jews- thinking the absolute worst of them. Because of a lack of romantic and sexual endeavors he could consider successful, Eric’s developed incel and neckbeard like tendencies and ways of thinking, feeling like the world owes him sex and love and that he’s such a ‘nice guy’ that is sooo much better than all these other Chads and deserves to be surrounded by pussy. He doesn’t seem to think that his vile way of thinking and language has anything to do with his lackluster love life.

Perhaps what makes Eric so dangerous is the fact that he can be amazingly charismatic. He genuinely has good leadership skills and can masterfully weave words together when he’s actually thinking about it. He has an amazing knack for seeing a person’s weakness and exploiting it. While Eric may not be book smart, he can read and play people like a fiddle.

Eric does have some insecurities about himself but he’s buried them so deep down inside that he doesn’t realize that they’re there.

History: Eric was born and raised by Liane Cartman, a genuinely sweet single mother despite her drug addiction. She tried her hardest to raise Eric well, but as Eric grew older he became worse and worse.

For the first years of his life, he was simply a whiny and argumentative brat but as time went by he began to learn manipulation skills and started to think less and less of the people around him. His first signs of something being off about him was the way he treated his pets and his own mother. Eventually this bled into how he treated his friends and the people around him. Why Stan, Kenny and Kyle bothered with him is anybody’s guess.

Eric has a criminal record but jail seems to have not made any lasting impact on him whatsoever. He’s simply more careful about getting caught by the law. Don’t forget that Eric got away with murder when he was just ten years old. He has no morals whatsoever.

With Marvel’s continued success, Eric also continued his superhero persona. Although he claimed to be a hero fighting for justice, it’s plainly obvious to anyone with any brain cells that this is just another scheme to try and make money and bolster his own image.

Eric’s impulsivity, manipulative ways and anger issues only continued to grow as time went on. While there’s been few additions to his criminal record, the list of crimes and wrongdoings he’s committed is beyond endless. Eric Cartman doesn’t particularly have any dreams for when high school is over which intensely worries Liane. He seems perfectly content to laze around with his mother at his every beck and call.

Whatever the future holds for Eric Cartman, it’s not going to be good for anyone around him.

Sample paragraph: “Kyle you DIRTY, FILTHY FUCKING JEW!” Cartman shrieked, shoving his phone into his supposed ‘friend’s face. “I KNOW you’re running this piece of shit blog WITHOUT ME.”

The Eavesdropper. A gossip blog run by an anonymous group of people who exposed the citizens of South Park’s deepest secrets. It held power. It held influence.

And Eric was completely, and utterly furious that he wasn’t on it.

“I bet you’re just keeping me out so that you can write all the nasty shit you want about me don’t you!? What else would I expect from a nasty fucking ginger, twink jew like you.” He sneered, pulling the phone away and stuffing it into his pocket. “So here’s how this is going to go down. YOU are going to tell your little gossip friends about how AMAZING and AWESOME Eric Cartman is and THEN you’re going to get me onto the group.”

The ability to be able to spread whatever gossip he wanted about anyone he wanted? Well sure he could do that whenever he wanted but this was a platform. It already had most of the work done for him. “And now, I know what you’re thinking- ‘Why would I ever let Eric join? He’s just so awesome and amazing that I know he’d outshine me in a second’. Well this is why Kyle. If you don’t, I’m going to tell everyone in this school that you are gay for Stan. Yeah. You’re fucking gay for him. I’ll tell everyone. And it’ll make everything super awkward between you and him. Maybe I’ll even fake a few kissy faggy love notes so that shit will never be the same between you two.”

His grin was wide and sickly. That would be a good threat. The embarrassment of it and the potential ruin of Kyle’s friendship with his closest and longest lasting pal was more than enough. Erin licked his lips, they tasted like grease from last night’s dinner. Kyle was below him. He was stupid and just another pawn to Eric.

If he didn’t do this- well, Eric could easily find another way to make him.

Headcanons: Eric may be bi but like, hes still super homophobic. Apparently gay activities are only acceptable if he’s doing it.

Anything else: Eric is going to say and do a lot of genuinely horrible things so warning at you dudes about that.

[aethelar]

Hi! First of all, I fucking love you and your writing. And talking about genderfluid!newt... What about Percival Graces, who doesn't blink twice wether it's Newt or Artemis -and is absolutely and irredeemably swept of his feet anyway? And Tina, Jacob and Queenie, who are fiercely protective of their friend whenever somebody is a jerk towards Artemis? Not that the offender would dare to open their mouth ever again after Graves has a talk with them, anyway.

(a continuation of this piece here)

When Jacob first notices he asks, “Is this one of those magic things?”

Artemis pauses. It’s magic that allows her to shift outwardly between herselves, magic that lengthens her limbs or shortens his, magic that sharpens his features and softens hers. But inwardly? If she didn’t have magic, if she couldn’t change what she looked like on the outside, would she be trapped as one or the other?

“I don’t think it’s a magic thing,” she says slowly. “It’s just who I am. I don’t think it only applies to magic people.”

“Oh,” Jacob says, and adds it to his list of things he’s learnt that day: occamies hatch from silver shells, mooncalf pellets float, and people can have multiple genders.

Artemis blinks when she realises how simple it is for him and Jacob smiles bemusedly when he notices. “Why not?” he asks with a shrug. “I didn’t know magic existed until today either.”

Tina worries when she discovers. 

MACUSA governs a society that lives by secrecy, by being unnoticed and not standing out. Tina watched helplessly as her brilliant younger sister smiled and lied and said she always wanted to work tables rather than politics; she was too young then to know how to protect Queenie against a world that felt threatened by her differences. Now Queenie doesn’t need her protection (she gets it anyway, because Tina will never stop being her big sister no matter how terrifyingly competent Queenie is without her) but Newt, Artemis, both of them look at the world with wide eyed naivety. 

“I don’t mind,” Newt says when someone makes a cutting remark. “The important people don’t care. Why should I worry?” He smiles, awkward and half hidden, and if he sees the bigger picture, if he knows the danger that can rise when people think their snide comments are ok to make - if he realises what could happen, he doesn’t show it.

So Tina worries, and she hovers, and when some bright young idiot thinks he can make a joke of taking Artemis to the men’s room or of picturing Newt in sequined dresses - Newt might turn back to Pickett and pretend not to hear, but Tina makes damn sure they know she heard. She also makes damn sure they know not to do it again. And when she’s done, she spits fire and prowls around Newt’s shadow and makes damn sure the rest of the room took note.

She won’t let Newt be kept from his dreams the way Queenie was kept from hers.

“Why do you pretend it doesn’t bother you?” Queenie asks once. 

Artemis throws her a wide eyed, guileless smile that does nothing to hide her unease and shrugs, deliberately casual.

“There’s not much point being bothered,” she says.

The point, Queenie answers, is that she’s allowed to be. She shouldn’t have to hide it. Shes allowed to be angry at the way people dismiss her.

Artemis concentrates on the fwooper she’s grooming. Her thoughts churn. Queenie waits.

“My brother is six years older than me,” she finally says. “We overlapped at school for a year. He spent almost every Friday in detention because of me.”

She straightens a skewed feather.

“Jacob is a muggle. The fact that he even knows about magic is illegal, but he risks everything to square up to a wizard who treats me wrong. Tina - she thinks I don’t notice the bridges she’s burning. She’s making half of MACUSA her enemy just because they looked at me funny one time, and she shouldn’t. Not for me.”

The fwooper clicks its beak imperiously and Artemis holds her hand out with a treat. It takes it with a delicate chitter, fluffs its newly immaculate plumage, and leaves in a flurry of pink.

There’s more that Artemis doesn’t say, more than she knows how to put into words. She’s lived with it her whole life. She doesn’t like it, the side eyes, the way she makes some people uncomfortable, the way some of them try to ignore it and override her choice of name and gender and identity. The way those few that knew in the war tried to regulate him to the sidelines and keep him from fighting; the way her closest of female friends eventually pulled away from her because she was a guy, she wouldn’t understand, these things weren’t for sharing with her.

Of course she doesn’t like it. But as much as she wishes she wasn’t she’s used to it, and she likes even less the thought that her brother, her family, her friends are in trouble because of her. Not that she wants them to stop, because she doesn’t, because the fact that they care enough to speak up for her is - is - it’s more than comforting, more than important, more than anything but they shouldn’t have to make themselves outcasts just because she is, and isn’t she, in some way, selfish for wanting them to? But how could it be selfish to want what everyone else seems always to have had, to want the easy acceptance and for people to just stop making a thing of it, but - but - sod it. But. It’s just a mess. A tangled, confused mess in her head that she doesn’t know how to put into words.

“Isn’t it their choice?” Queenie asks, gentle and kind. “A lot of people are a lot of things behind the person they pretend to be. When Tina or Jacob learn that someone is cruel, or stupid, aren’t they allowed to say something?”

Artemis frowns. “But - “ she starts, and she doesn’t know how to finish. If she weren’t sometimes he, the hateful thought starts, people would be kinder; if he weren’t sometimes she, it whispers in her doubts, people wouldn’t look away. 

Queenie leans close and pulls her into a hug.

“Honey,” she says. “Honey, no. You’re not making anyone do anything. Nothing about it is your fault.” Artemis mumbles something, maybe a denial, but it’s muffled against Queenie’s shoulder. “Believe me,” Queenie says drily, “They were cruel long before you came along. They just hid it better.”

Artemis laughs weakly. “Even from you?” she asks, and Queenie’s voice is that tiny bit bitter, that tiny bit weary when she answers, “No one hides from me.”

The first time Artemis shifts in front of Graves is when some damn buffoon put his coffee on the top shelf of tiny auror kitchen and he can’t reach it, and without his coffee to start the day he’s in exactly no frame of mind to manage a levitation spell. He snarls at it in helpless frustration, his empty mug clutched to his chest like a battle wound, and Artemis rolls her eyes and stretches up into Newt’s lanky frame.

“Do you want me to start the coffee machine as well, or can you handle that?” he asks, tongue in cheek and unable to hide his grin. Graves glowers at him and shuffles to the counter like a caffeine-driven zombie, blindly stabbing buttons until the water starts percolating into his mug.

“Smartass,” he accuses once his coffee is brewed and he’s vaguely resembling functional again.

And, because he can, Newt shifts back into Artemis and raises a hand to her mouth in mock outrage.

“Such language, Mr Graves sir!” she simpers, batting her eyelashes to complete the over the top effect.

Graves raises an eyebrow, unphased. “Smartass,” he repeats - and mentally makes a record of the way Higgins has frozen in the door, eyes bugged out and staring at Artemis. He adds it to the tally and mentally reshuffles his day to make space for auror training in training room… three. Three should do it.

“Higgins,” he barks as he strides out of the coffee room. “Target practice. Eleven thirty. Don’t be late.”

Higgins squeaks a protest behind him and Artemis trots to keep up. “Target practice?” she asks. “Why, what did he do to you?”

And Graves doesn’t say it’s what he did to you that matters because Graves has allergies and feelings set them off, so he busies himself with his coffee and pointedly doesn’t answer.

Mind you, Higgins was new. It might have been genuine surprise. Graves is, potentially, willing to be lenient if it was genuine surprise.

If it wasn’t genuine surprise then Graves has a new auto-loading potion launcher that he’s been meaning to try out. Just. Just by the by.