#they are trying to explain war strategy or something

[lace4forest]

The Hero of Chaos doesn't do Meetings...

Okay, so we did this on stream! So we talked a LOT about our thoughts on this piece! (I'll make a time laps later!) ANYWAYS-

THE HERO OF CHAOS- So that's a title in the Zelda Timeline that is just sitting there???? We came to a head canon that the Hero of Chaos was who the Fierce Deity USED to be!

Basically, this is set before Hyrule Kingdom was established, so Zelda here is actually Sonia's Grandmother!

The City of Hylia is having trouble with some bandits, Zelda is the leader because (Blood of the Goddess) and her Captain likes to call war meetings. Link here is just a woodworker, who was dragged into this. He was friends with Zelda (And maybe the happy mask salesmen??) and decides to help out the best he can.

Throughout the story, Link has to take on more and more Chaotic energy to be able to stand up to the Demon Majora, in the end, Link was able to seal the Demon into a mask, but was corrupted to the point of no return, so Zelda was forced to seal him into the Fierce Deities mask.

No text version below.

[itsnotmuchyet]

Okay, this is just a quick (lies, this ended up so long) and dirty articulation of why I don't like Annabeth Chase from PJO, her relationship with Percy, and what I think could fix it. (It got too long so I cut that bit. I'll write it if someone asks, but right now this is just a deconstruction of how, in my opinion, Annabeth Chase is not a well-written and compelling character.) This will be rambling and scattershot but hopefully it all makes sense, even if you don't agree.

First of all, Annabeth Chase has a lot of potential. I'm about to talk some shit, but I want to be clear, I see a lot in her character that could be interesting. I attribute most of my problems with her to Rick's writing, which, for all its good qualities, is not the strongest or most consistent imo. This isn't intended as a hate piece, just a way to organize my thoughts. I'm doing this all from memory, and am open to feedback, disagreement, or correction if I make a mistake so long as it's done in a civil way. Thank you.

I think my biggest frustration with Annabeth is that I simply don't believe her intelligence. I would LIKE to. But I think we are told that she is smart far more than we're shown, which makes the praise heaped upon her somewhat galling.

When I think about great strategies in these books, Percy comes to mind first. In The Last Olympian, he's the one who plans out the destruction of the bridges to frustrate Kronos' approach, including making diplomatic deals with the river gods and strategically deploying demigods to get it done. He's the one to realize that Poseidon is critical to success, find a way to get his attention in the middle of a war, and convince him to take heavy losses in Atlantis — and lose that battle which was very personal and precious to him — in order to win the ultimate war against Kronos. It is also Percy's strategy which is successful in defeating Typhon. Percy is constantly thinking up strategies in high pressure environments, such as fights. For example, in the Labrynth, when he realizes that his half-brother is healed by earth so he concocts a method with what he has around him to keep his brother suspended so he can be killed.

Now, other demigods also make important contributions in The Last Olympian. Wasn't it Nico who convinced Hades, Persephone, and Demeter to join the fight? And Annabeth activated Daedalus(??? spelling) statues in defense as well. But Percy is one that we are most often shown being strategic. I think it just goes under the radar because Percy does not have a high self esteem and does not praise himself internally for a lot of the clever stuff he does.

Annabeth most often contributes by knowing something. She often serves as exposition; she'll recognize a myth first, and explain it to Percy. But not only is prior knowledge and memorization not a replacement for actual strategy, BUT PERCY GETS BETTER GRADES THAN HER. I think it's in that Demigod Files book?? All Riordan's stuff has at least a month's waitlist at my library or I would double check my source, but I distinctly remember an entry where Annabeth is like, "Seriously, how is Percy getting better grades than me?? I'm the one who taught him how to put an essay together and now he's breezing through them??? Wtf." I find this intensely frustrating. Because what do you MEAN she's not even more successful than Percy academically? It's just, it's frustrating, because she's supposed to be so super smart, and I'm struggling to see where that actually gets expressed. If her only advantage is an earlier exposure to the Greek myths than Percy and a good memory, then her value as a character is highest near the start of the series and can only decline from there.

Even her encounter with the Sphinx highlights this. She had the trivia knowledge to answer the questions but not the wisdom to just, do that and not start an unnecessary fight in the middle of their quest.

I can think of several times in the books where Annabeth stutters, trying to think of something, while Percy improvises something that might be a little goofy but it WORKS.

Actually, Percy is by far the better manipulator out of the two of them. He is insanely good at reading his enemies, figuring out how to convince them to ally with him if possible, or defeat them if not. His big vulnerability is he can't do that for shit with people he cares about. Percy is actually very conflict avoidant in his personal life, I've noticed? And he's very quick to empathize with a friend and try to see things from their persepective (like when Grover kinda SABOTAGED his college applications and Percy heard him out and supported him in his emotional struggle with Percy leaving).

By contrast, Annabeth doesn't seem interested in the emotional wellbeing of her friends?

Annabeth often insults Percy's intelligence and his strategies. She says his head is full of kelp, seaweed brain, outright calls him stupid at least once (during that quest for Hermes, if I recall; was that in the Demigod Files as well? It wasn't in a main book I don't think). Everyone says that Annabeth is so smart, she's the daughter of Athena she's the architect of Olympus!! Meanwhile, the person I see actually implementing successful strategy is the person Annabeth constantly insults. She says that he's lucky, that he needs help to do anything, couldn't think his way out of a paper bag without her????????

That's what drives me crazy about Annabeth. Nobody ever calls her on her bragging or her putting down of other people. She doesn't learn. Not even when her carelessness and overconfidence gets her DRAGGED INTO TARTARUS. I'm so sorry, but is it not embarrassing for a daughter of Athena to be defeated like that??? All you had to do was keep an awareness of your environment, put two and two together that you're covered in webs just like the spider who just fell through the floor, and realize you'd better do something about that ASAP. And, like. Look. My issue isn't that she was pulled into Tartarus. My issue isn't even the way it happened. It matches with her fatal flaw.

My issue is that, like with everything else she gets wrong, she never seems to learn or grow from it. Like when Luke tricked her into holding up the sky. That to me is a perfect opportunity for a genuine character moment. It's so humbling, and would leave you so shaken. A moment for an unwanted but desperately needed reckoning between who she wants Luke to be and who he is. I'm not even saying she should have given up on him. I don't mind that she couldn't or that the whole thing was so messy and painful for her, but the way that it was expressed in the book made me feel like Annabeth was either willfully blind or untrustworthy. Her denial of Luke's worst aspects, her defending of him, her refusal to hold space for other characters feeling differently to her, all of it fostered suspicion in me when I first read the PJO books.

I remember when I first read the scene where Percy reveals his Achille's heel to her. My hair stood on end. Something about the way her eyes are described as "distant" when she asks where it is, and how Percy hesitates. In that moment I was screaming for him not to trust her. I did not want her to know. I thought his fatal flaw was going to kill him. Percy is a character who cannot anticipate betrayal.

Of course I was wrong about Annabeth there. Or was I? Other people before me have noted that when Annabeth judo flips Percy onto his back in New Rome, she does not know that the Mark of Achilles has been lifted. I don't think that the throw would have necessarily killed him if it hadn't; he lands on a flat surface. But it was certainly DEEPLY careless and foolhardy of Annabeth, EVEN BEFORE you take into account that it was, strategically, a STUPID thing to do. It makes me want to scream how dumb this moment makes Annabeth look. It's the tense, fraught first meeting in years between ancient enemies. You're the leader of your group, the diplomatic ambassador from Camp Half Blood. It's imperative that this goes well, for the fate of the world. And your emotions run so high upon reuniting with your kidnapped boyfriend — who was stolen by a god and has been through you-don't-know-what kind of godly fuckery — that you take it out on him, the VICTIM, and physically attack him. Didn't she put a knife to his throat?? If PERCY hadn't defused the moment, handled it, Annabeth would easily have destroyed the Greek-Roman alliance right there, no ghostly possession of Leo needed. With friends like her, who needs enemies?

Her relationship with Percy…I've never understood why they're the golden couple of the fandom. Annabeth seemed more interested in Luke than Percy, and when she was interested in Percy it was always…like, okay, Annabeth was vulnerable with Luke. I don't think he ever had a thing for her, but there was a tenderness to how she'd interact with him. When she interacted with Percy — think of the school dance, or how she handled having Rachel on a quest — she refuses to be vulnerable with him. If she has a crush on Percy, she hides it under glares, insults, and demands. Annabeth won't ask Percy to dance with her, she'll hit him and call him stupid for not asking her. She will not let her guard down with him.

This is a throughline in their relationship; even in Tartarus, she's thinking about how she likes to keep Percy on her toes. Yeah, Annabeth, we know. It was obvious when you manufactured a whole drama around your "one month anniversary." Which, no, that's not a thing, and it's completely normal of Percy not to anticipate that you would want him to do something special for it. I hated that whole story (it's in demigod files, I think). It's just Annabeth dangling Percy over undefined consequences if he doesn't read her mind and figure out what she wants and needs. He does all the work and she judges it. It's not cute or fun.

I do place most of the blame on Riordan's writing. What's that scene where Annabeth pushes Percy unexpectably off a cliff, triggering a very sensitive and dangerous encounter that he had to negotiate under time pressure while Annabeth watches? How does that scene start? "Get you a girlfriend who…" It's framed as a positive that Annabeth will just shove Percy into dangerous situations without warning when she absolutely does not have to do that. Isn't she supposed to be strategic? Why can't she think up a strategy and tell him, instead of shoving him at the problem and just, putting it on him to find a solution? "Give the problem to Percy" isn't a strategy worthy of Athena, I'm sorry. But my point is, Rick genuinely seems to think their romance is good and these red flag moments are cute and flirty. He is not writing Annabeth as an asshole on purpose.

I tend towards death of the author analyses myself, but Rick's writing is not consistent enough for that. You kinda just have to identify what he was trying to do, see where it failed, and decide how you wanna interpret that. And when it comes to Annabeth…I just want to either burn her relationship with Percy down or rewrite her character.

What else is there? Oh yeah, does anyone else feel like the way her family is written makes her seem…overdramatic? Like, meeting her dad and stepmom…it's an anticlimax. This girl was so unhappy she ran away from home as a child. She chose to become homeless in a world where monsters hunt her down, AS A CHILD, rather than stay with her dad. There's a deep unhappiness and loss to that. When she talks about it, she talks about being unwanted, a burden that her dad was unable and unwilling to handle, not being heard, not being believed. She is describing victim blaming. In that house, she, a six year old child, was seen as the problem.

And after that build up, we meet her family, and they are…well, they're fine, aren't they. Her step mom is concerned for her. She and Annabeth's dad (no i don't remember his name rn) seem to want the best for her, to help however they can. Mr Chase—is his name Frederick maybe???—Mr Chase takes the initiative, after Percy and his friends let him in on a sliver of what's going on with Annabeth, to melt down old weapons to make bullets and FLY A HELICOPTER to come save his daughter.

I'm honestly at a loss about what we're supposed to think here. At the end of Titan's Curse Percy gently suggests to Annabeth that she give her family another chance. If I recall, she says some things can't be repaired, but it's implied that she does actually try again with her family later. This always seemed to me to undermine Annabeth's entire narrative…the way she describes being treated simply does not match what we observe for ourselves in Titan's Curse.

I could go on but I'll cut it here. Maybe I'll make a post about I'd rewrite her if I could, because I do WANT to like Annabeth. There's a lot interesting that could be done with her. Probably not though bc all the Annabeth stans are gonna block me for this one I fear. Maybe I'll post my criticisms of other PJO couples instead lol (I won't. if you've read this far you'll find this claim dubious, but I actually don't enjoy being a hater. anyway i don't have nearly so much to say about any other pjo couple). Thanks for reading.

[pomefioredove]

Can I request either Jade or Azul with, “let’s flip a coin, heads I’m yours, tails your mine.” They seem like the type to make that kind of deal.

haven't done Azul yet ouhhhh

summary: "let’s flip a coin, heads I’m yours, tails you're mine" type of post: short fic characters: azul additional info: romantic, reader is gender neutral, reader is not specified to be yuu, not proofread a part of this event

Azul doesn't like playing games of chance.

This is the first real thing he tells you about himself. You had brought a deck of cards to the lounge, and asked to play war; he immediately shot you down.

"What's the purpose of a game without strategy?"

He's shared many more things about himself since, but none had captured your interest quite as much as his distaste for luck.

You've let it sit at the back of your mind, waiting for a moment like this.

"Here's how you play," you explain, setting the dice in front of him.

"You only get to roll the dice five times per turn. Once you think you've got the highest number, you end your turn. Highest number at the end wins."

Azul narrows his eyes as you describe the rules of the game.

"So this is... purely...?"

"Luck," you finish his sentence. "It's fun, you'll like it."

He grumbles under his breath, but the smile on your face is enough to dissuade him from turning you down.

"Alright. One round, and then I get to pick the next game,"

Azul cups the dice in hand, a melodious symphony of clinks coming from within his palms as he shakes and rolls.

"Five, eleven, twenty four..." he counts each one. "Only thirty one. Five turns, you say? I'll roll again."

You can tell he's pretending to be disinterested, much to your delight.

"Eleven, twenty one, twenty eight, twenty nine... thirty four. That's not much better,"

"Having fun?"

He shoots you a glare, scooping up the dice between you for his third roll.

"Thirty five. It seems that low thirties are the average. I'll keep this, then,"

You can't help a grin. You can tell he's trying to work out the game in his head, searching for something to turn it in his favor... and coming up short.

The expression on his face is pure frustration. It's amazing.

"Forty," you're unable to hold back the glee in your voice.

Azul narrows his eyes. "Keeping?"

"Oh, yes. Your turn,"

He draws the dice on the table back to himself, eyes sharp. You love seeing this side of him; competitive, analytical, and oh-so frustrated.

"Seventeen. I'll reroll," he mutters. "Twenty five..."

He settles at thirty one, handing the dice back to you with a scowl. You roll, smiling widely.

"Oh, my... thirty eight!"

Azul's face pales. "Wh- how? On your first try? What are you playing at?"

You can tell his patience is wearing thin. You gasp in mock-offense, putting a hand over your heart.

"Are you implying that I cheated? We're using the same dice, Azul!"

"Sevens. You really find it so entertaining to watch me squirm?"

"I just like seeing that look on you," you smile, leaning against your elbow.

"You're all cute when you're competitive."

Azul narrows his eyes, trying to maintain himself despite the blush on his face. "I want to play something else. My choice,"

You watch him stand and walk across the room with a chuckle. He's always so easy to get a rise out of...

"Here," he says, returning to your side with nothing but a coin.

"Since you like games of chance so much, I have one we can both win."

You raise an eyebrow. Out of all the things you'd expected from him, this is not one. "Really? ...Where's the fun in that?"

He smiles slyly, almost looking pleased with himself. His mood has taken a complete 180, much to your curiosity.... and dread.

"Let's flip coins. Head, I'm yours. Tails... you're mine,"

...Azul takes as much delight in seeing your face go red as you did riling him up.

He's even prepared to dodge when you lunge at him in a vain attempt to take the coin out of his upper hand.

"Tsk, tsk..." he chuckles. "Who's competitive now?"

[blood-orange-juice]

I realised I have a problem with the "Childe has cPTSD" idea that has been getting popularity in fandom, but it's probably more because of my gripe as a psych professional with the concept of cPTSD in general.

It's an understudied disorder and it's not yet in the DSM-V. Therapists use the term because it's better than nothing (they have to treat people regardless of whether we have a comprehensive theory of how humans function) but as it is now it simply clumps together too many things.

It started with a very reasonable thought that prolonged exposure to moderately stressful events can be just as harmful as One Huge Trauma, and also that the effects or prolonged exposure to stress will differ from only experiencing something once.

Sadly, the most common scenario in which a Western person (the type that has access to therapy and gets to talk about it online) can get cPTSD is child abuse. This means in the cases that are studied and discussed cPTSD response to prolonged stress is mixed with developmental trauma (all kinds of insufficient parenting and a child's needs not being met), attachment trauma (not having a stable relationship with a caretaker at a very early age when attachment strategies are formed), relational trauma (any trauma gotten in relationships at any age) and just general reaction to abuse (and all the damage to agency and self-worth that comes from it).

cPTSD of a person who came back from a war will differ a lot from cPTSD of a person who was raised by an abusive parent. There are similarities, sure, and it's important to recognise that a bad family situation can be just as damaging as being in an active war zone (in that sense the term has done more good than harm), but these two people won't have the same self-concepts and coping strategies.

The concept of cPTSD can be very useful if you are trying to understand what is happening to you personally or to explain it to your therapist (or to find a trauma-informed therapist), it isn't bad. But you can't say "this character has cPTSD" and derive meaningful predictions about his behaviour or self-image from it. It's too much of an umbrella term.

So, back to our boy. Bad things only started to happen to him at 14 and it's different from someone being consistently traumatised from an early age.

Does he have hypervigilance, bizarre strategies of self-regulation, at least some amount of dissociation, occasional attention problems and intolerance to helplessness? Yeah, probably, his lifestyle would do that to pretty much anyone. Prolonged stress just does that, doesn't matter how badass someone is. Some negative beliefs about himself are also likely. Difficulty with connecting with others is a given (everyone else lives in a different reality, how would he even begin to connect).

Does he have relational trauma? Also yes, we all do. Some justified guilt and anger over how things went? Not necessary but very possible. Some irrational guilt for things he couldn't control? Again, not necessary but I could roll with that (it's a common response to helplessness. guilt is easier to stomach than the loss of control).

Would he behave like a child abuse victim, thinking himself completely worthless and constantly doubting and pitying himself? I don't think so. He looks like a person who has never been abused in his life. It's very fun to write and I understand the appeal of it (I'm probably occasionally guilty of that too) but it's simply not how he's portrayed in canon.

He wouldn't think of himself like a child of narcissistic parents would either (having to be the best to prove his right to exist). He was long past the age when he could have gotten that type of trauma when Abyss and the Fatui happened to him. Also his resilience comes from somewhere and I think it's from having a loving family. Sure, it wasn't a perfect family (I have a lot of questions for them) and now it's irreparably messed up even more but he does look like a person who was loved as a kid.

[peasack]

Hey guys! Back with the platonic!reader x thunderbolts.

Thought this would be a cute and kinda wholesome idea, so hope you guys like it!!

Thunderbolts x gn!platonic!reader

✦ Thunderbolts game night headcanons ✦

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

✦ Alexei Shostakov ✦

LOUD. He’s yelling before the game even starts. He’s so competitive, even in Uno or Monopoly. He's the type to slam his cards on the table like he's in a high-stakes poker match.

Cheats constantly. Steals money from the bank, hides cards, pretends rules don’t apply to him. If you catch him, he acts like it’s part of the game.

Has no idea how to play anything electronic. You try to get him to play Mario Kart, but he just crashes into walls and screams in Russian.

Nicknames the dice. He’ll be like, “Come on, Natasha! Don’t fail me!” and everyone’s like… who is he talking to? He’s talking to the dice.

He has a pair of lucky dice named after his kids, including you. Whenever it's all or nothing he grabs them from his pocket, whispers to them and somehow always gets the score he needs.

Doesn’t understand losing. Will pout like a child if you beat him. He’s a sore loser but forgives you after you share snacks with him.

✦ Yelena Belova ✦

Master of trash talk. Soft voice, brutal words. “Oh? You think you will win? That’s so cute. I will destroy you.” She’s actually very sweet but she plays it up to mess with you.

Always brings the weird snacks. She shows up with like pickled herring chips or something and acts offended if no one else tries them.

Pretends not to care but actually loves winning. She’ll play it cool but does a little fist pump under the table when she beats John.

Secretly teams up with you against the others. If it’s a team game, you and Yelena are partners 99% of the time, and you both cheat in the most creative ways.

Loves chaotic games. Uno, Jenga, Cards Against Humanity—anything where she can ruin people.

✦ Bucky Barnes ✦

Reluctant participant. He shows up because you asked him to but claims he doesn’t like games. Lies. He gets super into it.

Super patient when teaching you new games. Will quietly explain rules to you if you’re confused, even if the others are already playing.

Lowkey very good at strategy games. Chess? Clue? He’s unbeatable. He has war-era patience and loves a good tactical challenge.

Loses his mind over video games. Cannot aim for his life in a shooter game. “Why is this kid running in circles? Stop jumping! STAND STILL!”

Protects you when the others gang up. When John and Yelena are being little gremlins, Bucky will switch sides to back you up.

✦ John Walker ✦

The worst when he’s losing. He’ll start questioning the rules, the fairness of life, the position of the table legs—anything to justify why he’s not winning.

Gets VERY loud in team games. Yelling directions, yelling at Bob for not following his plan. Absolute coach mode.

Takes everything WAY too seriously

"It's just Uno John.."

“THERE ARE RULES, Y/N. THERE. ARE. RULES.”

Softens if you get upset. He’s competitive but if you start to actually feel bad, he immediately backs off and maybe, just maybe he'll let you win the next round.

✦ Bob Reynolds ✦

Lowkey the peacemaker. Tries to keep everyone calm but ends up making snarky little comments when John gets on his nerves.

Very good at puzzle games. The quiet thinker. Can solve a Rubik’s Cube in like a minute and wins all the brain games.

Surprisingly sassy when he’s tired. If it’s late, he’ll start roasting people quietly under his breath and you are howling.

Always ends up on your team. You’re his comfort person. You’re the one who can get him to laugh even when he’s overwhelmed.

Super soft when you win. Always congratulates you, even if the others are too busy fighting to notice. Might gently pat your head like, "You did good, Starlight."

✦ Ava Starr ✦

Chaos incarnate. She plays to destroy people. She’s fast, sneaky, and will fully phase through the table to steal cards if you’re not watching.

Hates losing. But instead of yelling like John, she just gets eerily silent and stares at you.

"Ava, it’s just Connect Four."

Deadpan "No. It’s not."

Loves games with sabotage. Like Uno. Reverse cards are her love language.

Doesn’t really like team games. Unless you’re her partner. Then she’ll protect you like a hawk.

Let’s you win sometimes, but pretends she didn’t. “No, you just got lucky, don’t get cocky.”

✦ Group Dynamics ✦

Yelena and John are the loudest. Always fighting, always accusing each other of cheating.

Bob and Bucky just exchange looks like: “Why do we hang out with these people?”

Alexei is the one who flips the Monopoly board when he’s losing. Every time.

You always get away with the sneakiest cheats because Bucky secretly lets you.

Ava and Yelena 100% gang up on John at least once per game night.

∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗∗ ࣪ ˖༺ ♡ ༻˖ ࣪ ∗

Hope you guys liked it! My requests are always open so if you have any ideas I'dove to write them! <3

[neferaskingdom]

♡ The Great Christmas Yard-Off | MV1

NEFERASKINGDOM

Summary: Y/n decides to join the neighborhood Christmas yard decorating contest. Somehow it ends with Max and George at war with each other.

A/N: I wanted to try my hand at a Christmas series. I plan on uploading 12 fics but we'll see. I choose to do this with George because apparently George and Max are beefing now?. Also guys please send some inspiration my way cuz deciding to make this series was a totally impulsive decision.

SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST

The holidays had always been your favorite time of the year. The twinkling lights, the smell of gingerbread, the comforting hum of Christmas carols — it all felt like a warm embrace. And this year, you and Carmen were determined to make it even more special. You both had signed up for the neighborhood’s annual Christmas yard decorating contest. 

Max on the other hand didn’t give two shits about Christmas. He tolerated your festive spirit because you loved it, and every December, your shared home transformed into a holiday wonderland. You handled the decorations, baking, and cheesy Christmas playlists, while Max provided the occasional muscle for hanging lights and reaching the high shelves. It was a system that worked.

Until George Russell opened his big mouth.

It started at a padel game. You and Carmen were sitting nearby, swapping ideas for the neighborhood Christmas yard decorating contest while Max and George squared off on the court. You weren’t even halfway through explaining your plans when George’s ears perked up.

“We’re doing the yard decorating contest?” George said, wiping sweat off his forehead as he approached. His interest was piqued, and that was never a good sign.

“Yeah,” Carmen replied cautiously. “Why?”

George grinned, leaning casually on his racket. “This is going to be fun we’ve got this in the bag”

You and Carmen exchanged a look, bemused. “We do?” Carmen asked, crossing her arms.

George beamed. “Obviously we do! Especially since I’ll be helping”

You snorted. “What does that even mean?”

“It means that I have impeccable taste,” George said smugly.

At this, Max snorted from across the court. “It’s just inflatables and fairy lights. Relax, mate.”

George turned to him, his grin widening. “Says the guy who probably hasn’t even untangled his lights yet.”

Max froze, narrowing his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what it sounds like,” George replied, clearly enjoying himself. “I’m just saying, you probably lack the creative vision to pull off anything more sophisticated than a blinking Rudolph.”

“Creative vision?” Max repeated incredulously

“Exactly. It’s not just about the lights or the inflatables!” George replied, puffing out his chest. “It’s about taste. Sophistication. Something you wouldn’t understand, Verstappen.”

Max just glared, his jaw tightening. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” George said, the smugness practically radiating off him.

It was at that moment you saw the shift in Max’s demeanor. What had started as a casual exchange turned into something much more dangerous: a challenge.

By the time you got home, Max was fully committed to the cause.

“Okay,” he said, pacing the living room. “What’s the strategy?”

You stared at him blankly from your spot on the couch, where you’d been happily sipping hot chocolate and scrolling through Pinterest for DIY ideas. “What strategy?”

“For the yard. To beat George,” Max replied, as if it were obvious.

“Max,” you began slowly, “this isn’t about beating anyone. It’s Christmas.”

Max stopped pacing to look at you. “It is about beating someone. George thinks he’s going to win, and I’m not letting that happen.”

“Why do you care?” you asked, genuinely baffled. “You didn’t even want to help decorate two hours ago.”

“That was before George made it personal,” Max said, grabbing his phone. “Right. I need to order lights. Big ones.”

You groaned, already sensing this was spiraling out of control.

“Max,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm. “You don’t even care about Christmas.”

“I care about not losing to George bloody Russell,” 

The first couple of days were peaceful enough. You stuck to your original plan of simple, tasteful decorations, while Carmen did the same across the street. But then George upped the ante.

“Have you seen this?” Max stormed into the kitchen, waving his phone at you.

On the screen was a picture of George’s front yard. He had installed a massive inflatable snowman wearing a Santa hat and, inexplicably, a Mercedes team jacket.

“Is that…branded merchandise?” you asked, squinting at the screen.

“Oh, it’s on,” Max growled, grabbing his coat.

“Where are you going?”

“To the hardware store.”

“What for?”

“To buy everything.”

“Max, let it go,” you said exasperated,

“Let it go? Let it go?” Max repeated, scandalized. “You don’t let things go when you’re trying to win.”

You sighed. “We’re not trying to win. We’re trying to have fun.”

Max ignored you, muttering something about needing to rent a ladder.

Across the street, Carmen was facing her own struggles.

“George,” she said firmly, “I thought we agreed this was my thing.”

George was busy attaching halos to his newly erected nativity scene. “It’s our thing, darling. A team effort.”

“You’re hogging the team effort!” Carmen snapped.

“Nonsense,” George replied, stepping back to admire his work. “Do you think the fog machine is too much?”

“Fog machine?” Carmen repeated, aghast. “Are you kidding me?”

“It adds character,” George insisted.

“It looks like a rave!”

It wasn’t long before the antics escalated.

One morning, Max woke you up at the ungodly hour of 6 a.m., shaking your shoulder. “Y/n, wake up! Emergency.”

“What?” you groaned, sitting up. “Is the house on fire?”

“No, but George sabotaged Santa!” Max exclaimed, holding his phone up to show you the security footage of the animatronic Santa in your yard. Its mechanical arm, which was supposed to wave cheerfully, was instead frozen in a position that looked suspiciously like it was flipping people off.

“Sabotaged?” you repeated, rubbing your eyes. “Max, it’s probably just broken.”

“It’s sabotage,” Max said with absolute certainty.

That morning, George’s inflatable reindeer mysteriously deflated.

“Max,” you hissed when you caught him sneaking back inside with scissors in hand. “What did you do?”

“I’m was just trimming the hedges,” he said innocently.

“With kitchen scissors? At five in the morning?”

“I just wanted to be done with it early,” he replied, giving you a cheeky grin.

George wasn’t innocent either. That evening, Max’s synchronized sleigh started playing an obnoxiously distorted version of "Jingle Bells."

“That son of a—” Max growled, storming out to fix it.

From your vantage point on the porch, you saw George leaning against his front door, sipping tea and waving smugly.

By the weekend, both yards were unrecognizable. Max had rented a cherry picker to string lights on the trees, creating a display so bright it could probably be seen from space. George retaliated by adding a life-sized nutcracker army to his yard, complete with sound effects.

You and Carmen sat together on the porch, sipping mulled wine and watching the madness unfold.

“They’re insane,” Carmen said flatly.

“Completely unhinged,” you agreed.

“Do you think we should try to stop them?”

“Not a chance,” you replied, taking a sip of your drink. “They’d probably turn on us. Just let them tire themselves out”

When judgment day arrived, the tension was palpable. Max and George stood in their respective yards, glaring at each other like two prizefighters about to enter the ring.

Then Sebastian Vettel pulled up in an electric car, stepping out with a clipboard in hand.

“What the hell is Seb doing here?” Max whispered, frowning.

You shrugged. “I have no idea”

“Why would Seb be judging a Christmas contest?”

“Why are you treating this like a world championship?” you shot back.

Across the street, George was equally confused. “Seb?” he called out, waving. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m the judge,” Seb replied simply.

“Why?” George asked.

Seb shrugged. “Why not?”

For the next hour, Sebastian walked up and down the street, inspecting each yard with an inscrutable expression. When he reached Max’s yard, he tilted his head.

“It’s...bright,” Seb said diplomatically.

“It’s also synchronized!” Max said proudly, hitting a remote to start the light show.

Seb blinked as the display erupted into a cacophony of lights and music, the animatronic Santa jerking its arm wildly.

“Interesting choice,” Seb said, jotting something down.

When he got to George’s yard, he paused at the nativity scene. The fog machine puffed dramatically, obscuring the baby Jesus.

“Very…cinematic,” Seb commented.

“It adds to the atmosphere,” George corrected with a grin.

Seb nodded slowly. “Hmm.”

Finally, he reached Nico Rosberg’s house. Honestly speaking you had kind of forgotten he was even in the competition. Nico’s yard was a chaotic mix of DIY decorations—crooked garlands, hand-painted ornaments, and a slightly lopsided tree. His two young daughters were bustling around the yard, stringing up a series of haphazardly cut-out stars and paper garlands. A few hand-painted reindeer made of cardboard were scattered across the lawn. It was the polar opposite of both Max and George’s gaudy, over-the-top displays.

“What’s this?” Seb asked, intrigued.

Nico poked his head out the door, a mug of coffee in hand. “Oh, the girls did the whole thing. It's kind of last minute cuz I forgot all about the competition.”

Seb’s face lit up. “The girls? They did this?”

“Yeah, they love this kind of stuff,” Nico said with a shrug.

Seb nodded approvingly, turning back to the yard. “It’s heartfelt and homemade. Captures the true spirit of Christmas.”

Max and George stared at him in horror as Seb marked something on his clipboard.

“I think I’ve found the winner,” Seb said. “Yup, this is the one.”

“You’re giving it to that?” Max sputtered, gesturing wildly at Nico’s yard “He’s got two cardboard reindeer! You can’t just—what?”

George stared in shock, unable to process the sight. “This... this looks like a kindergarten craft project.”

Seb turned to them with a calm smile. “Your yards look like a commercial for overconsumption. Nico’s daughters made something meaningful.”

Nico just stood there confused, while his daughters proudly adjusted the crooked garlands and DIY decorations they had made. “What?” Nico said, looking around. “Wait, we won?”

Sebastian smiled. “Yes. This yard shows the real spirit of Christmas. It’s genuine, heartfelt, and doesn’t rely on flashy lights or over-the-top theatrics.”

Max was in absolute shock. “We lost... to Nico Rosberg?” 

George looked equally scandalized. “But we put so much effort into this!”

“Effort doesn’t always mean better,” Seb said sagely.

Nico laughed nervously. “I mean, my daughters just wanted to make something fun. It’s not that great.”

Sebastian held up a trophy. “It’s perfect. And you’re the winner.”

Max flopped down on the couch next to you, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, and his face twisted in frustration. He was still sulking about losing the Christmas yard competition, and it was clear he wasn’t letting it go anytime soon.

“I can’t believe we lost to Nico Rosberg,” Max grumbled, throwing his head back dramatically. “Nico. Nico won because he brought his daughters into it. It’s like they manipulated Sebastian with their cuteness! That’s not fair.”

You bit your lip to hold back a laugh, but you could tell this was no laughing matter to Max. He was seriously upset. You scooted closer to him, putting a hand on his arm in an attempt to comfort him.

“Max, it’s just a silly contest,” you said softly. “It doesn’t really matter who won. You had the best lights and decorations, okay?”

Max let out a heavy sigh and turned to look at you, his eyes filled with exaggerated indignation. “No, it’s not okay! I worked so hard on that display. And then Nico just... has his little girls do all the work, and bam! They win! What was I supposed to do? I’m not going to bring a bunch of random kids to decorate for me!”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, nudging him playfully. “Yeah, I don’t think that would have been a good look.”

Max’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully. “You know... maybe I’ve figured it out. Maybe that’s what we’ve been missing. If we had a kid, they’d be adorable, and there’s no way Sebastian would resist that kind of cuteness. I’m telling you, we would definitely win next year.”

You blinked, staring at him in disbelief. “Wait... what? Max, are you seriously suggesting we have a baby just to win a Christmas decoration competition?”

Max shrugged, a sly grin creeping across his face. “Why not? If Nico can win by using his daughters, we could do the same. Imagine it: one little Verstappen decorating the yard, all wide-eyed and cute. Sebastian wouldn’t stand a chance.”

Your heart nearly stopped. “Max, no. Absolutely not. You cannot possibly think about having a child just to win a Christmas contest.”

Max didn’t pay any attention to your protests. He was already scheming, his eyes lighting up with excitement. “I’m telling you, it’s genius. We get the kid involved, and next thing you know, Sebastian’s giving us the trophy. It’s foolproof.”

You grabbed his arm, still flustered, but now more worried about where this conversation was going. “Max, no. You’re not thinking straight. You can’t just—that’s not how things work.”

Max leaned back against the couch, crossing his arms behind his head, looking far too pleased with himself. “I don’t know, Y/n, I think I’m onto something big here.”

Max grinned mischievously, his eyes sparkling with amusement. “Well, if we want to win next year’s Christmas contest…” He paused, leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a teasing whisper, “maybe it’s time we make that baby, schat.”

Before you could even respond, Max pounced on you, wrapping you in his arms and planting a playful kiss on your lips, causing you to squeak in surprise. You pushed him away lightly, laughing. “Max, you’re impossible!”

He just smirked. “Maybe. But think about it—one little Verstappen running around decorating. We’d definitely win.”

You rolled your eyes, still flustered, but couldn't stop the smile that crept onto your face at that thought. "You're ridiculous."

Max winked. "But you love me anyway."

[preblacksmith20]

Laser Tag Battles - Adults Allowed

content: how each driver would react to being invited to your niece/nephew’s laser tag birthday party.

drivers: Lando Norris, Max Verstappen, George Russell, Charles Leclerc, Ollie Bearman, Kimi Antonelli, Alex Albon, Oscar Piastri, Carlos Sainz, Yuki Tsunoda, Lance Stroll, Nico Hülkenberg

Lando Norris

- he is so game. immediately.

- i’m so sorry but he is the worst

- or rather he’s doing so well until he commits one *one* act of friendly fire against you and loses it in a fit of giggles

- the kids hear him and pounce. it’s merciless.

- he never recovers

- still claims it’s the most fun he’s had at a birthday party in years

George Russell

- he’s bringing a great birthday gift but he’s not getting in the arena

- he is running a betting pool amongst the parents in the observation deck (if you’ve read that condominium text fic you KNOW what I mean)

- you will be getting a text in the match from him asking you to take out Tim (you know the small child wearing the blue jacket) to hedge the bets

- the parents (specifically the moms) love him…it’s the most fun they’ve had at a birthday party in ages

Max Verstappen

- isn’t into the laser tag game but is very in to the racing simulator games in the lobby

- you come back from the game to find him amassing a small group of boys begging for him to teach them

- yes, he has the high score. why do you ask?

Charles Leclerc

- the little girls swear to defend him on sight

- pretends like it’s just for fun but is buzzing to go

- somehow maneuvers his little death squad of girls to victory

- he wins. most kills. no one knows how it happened

- all the kids beg to know his secrets. is immediately the coolest kid at the party

Ollie Bearman

- so happy to be involved

- is handed a thirty second penalty for lifting children up to see over the barriers (you think he’s safe from FIA oversight at a laser tag arena? fool.)

- all the enemy children decide to gang up on him

- loses for the sake of sparing the children

Kimi Antonelli

- accepted as one of the kids immediately

- something about his energy just draws the kids to him

- is so serious about the game while still having the biggest smile

- wins the first round but loses on purpose for the second one

- your niece/nephew demand he comes to the next one or honestly any family event going forward

Alex Albon

- tries so hard to get the kids to focus on a strategy

- his strategy isn’t bad, but the kids immediately scatter - all plans forgotten

- leads a war cry to rally the troops after losing the first game

- somehow it works. he’s a legend. a hero

- he has like five new children that treat him like they all served in a war together

Oscar Piastri

- disappears immediately during the first game and finds the perfect spot overlooking the arena

- honestly would have had the most kills but got lost in the neon maze trying to get back to base to recharge

- the enemy kids hold him as a war prisoner

- second game goes on a rampage against the other team…a child cries

- he feels so bad

- your team of children thinks he’s a hero

- the parents have to have some awkward conversations on the way home

Carlos Sainz

- is the most well-dressed person by far and so polite

- acts like he doesn’t understand the game so the kids can explain it to him

- he plays but really tries to make sure your niece/nephew has a great time first and foremost

- for the second game asks to be on the opposite team as you and you two spend the whole game locked in a 1v1 battle (both giggling like the children)

Yuki Tsunoda

- you know that one really quiet and shy kid at birthday parties? yeah well that kid immediately takes a liking to Yuki and won’t leave his side

- Yuki swears to protect and help the kid

- you don’t see them for the rest of the game

- Yuki and the kid have the most points by FAR

- thanks to Yuki, the kid is hailed as a hero

- has so much fun and you catch him looking up laser tag leagues

Lance Stroll

- oh he definitely loses

- but he has more fun than anyone, kid or adult, so much so that you’re a little jealous

- turns out his laser was broken

Nico Hülkenberg

- also loses but realizes it’s the bad laser

- asks the random kid crying in the corner to trade with him

- helps the kid to the exit

- still manages to get top five

[redflagshipwriter]

Check Yes ch 9 part 2

masterpost

That whole detour took a depressing amount of their allotted Dick-free time frame. Danny sulked about it a bit as Jason caught up to him and bumped his shoulder. Jason fished his phone out and clearly made a call to a restaurant, giving them an ETA and asking them for the meal Danny had asked for.

Well… Danny untensed a bit. He was willing to look at Jason again by the time that the phone call finished. 

“Wanna talk strategy?” Jason coaxed. 

Danny pursed his lips. “Is anything off limits?” he asked with a shrug. He spread his hands out. “I can fly, go intangible– most of my powers are more martial but those are really applicable.”

“I can’t do either of those things,” Jason said, “So unless-”

“I will just pick you up,” Danny cut him off. He flicked a glance up and down the other guy. “You weigh nothing to me.”

Jason seemed to experience a 404 error. Once he had rebooted he cleared his throat and his voice still came out a little peaky. “I think those things are fair, but we don’t wanna clear Dick totally, it won’t be any fun unless he thinks he has a shot at some points.” He cleared his throat again.

‘....Does he want me to pick him up?’ Danny looked Jason over as sneakily as he could manage. ‘He didn’t let me carry him up the stairs, but maybe that was different because we were play-fighting.’

He filed that very interesting question away for later and took a little mercy on his date. “What strengths does he have, what tactics is he gonna use?”

Jason whistled a long breath out from between his teeth and opened a door for Danny. “We should call Barbie and beg for her neutrality. He won’t go to tech immediately, but tracking us by cameras is always an option.”

Danny snorted and tossed his hair. “Not a problem,” he boasted. “I can short out any cameras in my vicinity.”

There was a moment of silence. “That sounds like it would make it really easy to spot our current location.”

Oh. Well. Heck.

“...Is this the restaurant?” Danny pushed open the door without waiting for an answer, bell jingling overhead.  

A sharp-eyed waiter in black and white saw them enter and indicated the back area with a gloved hand. “Thanks, France,” Jason said easily. He pulled out a seat for Danny without a thought.

Danny shared a moment of eye contact with France. Danny was intending to communicate, ‘Do you see this shit, France?’ France was a cypher. There was no hint of what he thought about this.

…Danny sat. “Thank you,” he said, a little confused by the gesture but pretty certain that this was the best response. 

Jason seated himself and gave him a distracted smile in lieu of a verbal reply. Shit. Fuck. He was hot. Danny flashed internal alarms at this. “Are you still interested in red wine, or would you like something else?” 

“Uhhh.” Danny decided not to say that he had no idea, he was basically copying the romantic date from The Lady and the Tramp. “I’d like to start with a water.” 

“Of course.” Jason glanced over at France, who inclined his head and left in a frankly shocking burst of speed. “I think that Dick will try to leverage the date against me, to embarrass me,” he said thoughtfully. He picked up a saltshaker and started toying with it absentmindedly. “He’ll think that I won’t want the other guys bothering us.”

Danny cocked his head. 

“I was thinking about cutting that out from underneath him, at the last second,” Jason explained. “Dick’ll probably have a couple contingencies around siblings.”

“Yeah, control the flow of information,” Danny agreed. “Do you think you can turn any of them against him?”

Jason pursed his lips. “Yes, but not predictably. It’ll depend who sides with who first. It’s not a fun game if they all play on the same team, so some of them will be willing to fuck him over.” He blinked and lifted his hands as France returned with a pitcher of lemon water and a plate of appetizers. 

It was a very serious war council, for all that it happened to be about the tactics Birds and Bats would use in a game of tag. Danny caught himself leaning forward, elbows braced on the table, to breathe in every word out of Jason’s mouth. 

“Don’t worry about the big guy though,” Danny faintly understood. He was glazing out a little bit, just watching Jason’s mouth move. There was a little bit of stubble that hadn’t been there at the start of their date a few hours ago. Danny wanted to touch it. “No way will they invite him to play, he hasn’t been fun for a decade.”

“Whatever you say,” Danny managed. Unbidden, one hand started to come up off the tabletop, reaching toward Jason’s jawline. Touchy touch touch.

“What- oh, we should take a photo for the group chat.” Jason pushed the food slightly out of the way and rested an elbow on the table to support himself as he leaned basically into Danny’s space. He used that hand to grab the hand Danny had been inching across the table and he gave it a squeeze.

He was. He was holding Danny’s hand again. Danny swallowed, hard. Was his pulse too fast? Could Jason feel that?

“Lean in a bit?” Jason was checking how they looked in his phone camera. 

Danny leaned forward agreeably, brain screaming static at him. He didn’t even bother to think about how he looked in the photo. It must have been fine because Jason made an approving noise and put the phone back down on the table. “I’ll send it to the group chat in about 20 minutes,” he said.

“Ngah,” Danny said intelligently. 

Luckily, the pasta came then.

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Dinkscrump Linkdump

I'm about to leave for a 20+ city book tour for my new novel PICKS AND SHOVELS. Catch me on Feb 14 in BOSTON for FREE at BOSKONE , and on Feb 15 for a virtual event with YANIS VAROUFAKIS. More tour dates here.

Well, Saturday's come around and I have a gigantic list of links that didn't fit into this week's newsletter, so it's time for another linkdump, 26th in the series:

https://pluralistic.net/tag/linkdump/

My posting is about to get a lot more erratic, as I'm days away from leaving on a 20+ city book-tour, which starts in Boston on Feb 14, with a sold-out event at the Brookline Booksmith:

https://brooklinebooksmith.com/event/2025-02-14/sold-out-cory-doctorow-ken-liu-picks-and-shovels

But Bostonians get another bite at the apple: I'm appearing at Boskone, the city's venerable sf convention, a few hours before my Brookline gig, and admission is free:

https://schedule.boskone.org/62/

The rest of the tour (including a virtual event with Yanis Varoufakis on the 15th) is here, and more dates (New Zealand, possibly Pittsburgh and Atlanta) are being added all the time:

https://craphound.com/novels/redteamblues/2025/02/06/announcing-the-picks-and-shovels-book-tour/

Of course, even as I scramble to get ready to hit the road for months, I'm regrettably forced to give some rent-free space in my head to Elon Fucking Musk. This week, I wrote about DOGE as a government-scale private-equity style plundering of the nation:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/07/broccoli-hair-brownshirts/#shameless

But that was before I read Henry Farrell and Abraham Newman's Lawfare article about how Musk's seizure of payment chokepoints will allow him (and Trump) to surveil the entire economy and wield unilateral, unaccountable power:

https://www.lawfaremedia.org/article/elon-musk-weaponizes-the-government

In 2023, Farrell and Newman published an important book called Underground Empire, explaining how, during the War on Terror, GWB (and then Obama) weaponized global payment processing systems (most notably SWIFT) and other boring, technical systems, and then used them to wield enormous power around the world:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/10/10/weaponized-interdependence/#the-other-swifties

Farrell and Newman's point isn't merely that this power was used unwisely or cruelly, but also that the co-opted systems had an actual, useful, important job to do – a job that was only possible if these systems were widely viewed as credibly neutral and apolitical. The book ends with a sobering message about the chaos on the horizon if (when) other countries walk away from these system, leaving infrastructure vacuums in their wake. In their new Lawfare piece, Farrell and Newman imply not just that Musk and Trump are fashioning a powerful weapon out of the nation's digital infrastructure, but also that this could permanently undermine the vital national systems they're seizing control over, with no obvious candidates to replace them.

Meanwhile, the Democrats are still trying to find their asses with both hands, even as voters across the nation bombard them with demands to actually do something. I'm gonna call my senators and rep right after I finish this and remind them that when South Korea's autocratic president attempted a coup, lawmakers stormed the capital, leaping the fences while livestreaming to voters:

https://www.axios.com/2025/02/06/democrats-congress-trump-musk-doge-calls

But not everyone is taking Musk's bullshit lying down. The AFL-CIO has led a coalition of unions in suing DOGE:

https://gizmodo.com/americas-unions-sue-doge-launch-the-department-of-people-who-work-for-a-living-2000559998

And they've launched a counterinitiative with the delightful name of "The Department of People Who Work for a Living":

https://deptofpeoplewhowork.org/

It's nice to see some inside/outside strategy underway. After all, Musk is cruel and disgusting, but he – and the lawyers and creeps who back him – are also very, very stupid, and they're fucking up all over the place.

Take shutting down the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, the agency charged with defending America from financial predators (e.g. would-be usurers hoping to turn their social media sites into payment processing platforms). Under Biden's CFPB chief Rohit Chopra, the Bureau was an absolute powerhouse, adopting rules, investigating scammers, and punishing wrongdoers, all in service to the American people:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/07/26/taanstafl/#stay-hungry

So naturally Musk and Trump have shut down the Bureau. But, as Adam Levitin writes for Credit Slips, this was a profoundly stupid move. You see, under Dodd-Frank – the post-2008 financial crisis law that created the CFPB – state attorneys general are empowered to enforce its rules. Those rules can't be amended or rescinded for so long as the CFPB is in a coma. What's more, any "violation of an enumerated consumer law is a violation of the Consumer Financial Protection Act," which can be gone after by state AGs. Another thing: the Truth in Lending Act has a threshold for small loans, below which the Act doesn't apply. The CFPB is supposed to adjust that threshold for inflation, but without a CFPB, that threshold will be frozen in amber like the federal minimum wage, bringing every-larger constellations of financial activity within scope for AG enforcement in any or every state in the Union. Also: none of this can be changed without a 60-vote Senate majority. Nice one, Elon:

https://www.creditslips.org/creditslips/2025/02/shutting-down-cfpb-is-not-like-shutting-down-usaid.html

That isn't the only way that Trump shot himself in the dick last week. As Luke Savage writes, threatening to put tariffs on Canadian goods (and to annex Canada and make it the 51st state) had a profound effect on Canadian politics:

https://www.lukewsavage.com/p/all-bets-are-off

Before last week, Justin Trudeau's political legacy seemed assured. His many leadership failures, along with a billionaire-funded dark-money hate-machine that targeted him with culture-war nonsense and climate denial all added up to record low approval ratings. It was so bad that Trudeau actually sent Parliament home (recklessly leaving Canada without a legislature on the eve of Trump's presidency) and resigned as Liberal Party leader.

A week ago, pretty much everyone in Canada figured that the Conservative leader Pierre Poilievre was about to romp to victory with a Ba'ath-style Parliamentary majority. Poilievre was and is an extraordinarily weak candidate, a guy who has literally never had a job except for "politician," who nevertheless ran as a political outsider, leading a coalition of racists, climate exterminationists, xenophobes, forced-birth militants, and other cryptofascists and low-tax brain-worm victims. The threat of a Poilievre government with a commanding majority was frankly terrifying. Think of him as someone with Trump's agenda and Mitch McConnell's ruthless administrative competence. Trump is bad enough – but smart Trump? Nightmare.

Then came the Trump tariffs and the annexation threats, and overnight, the Tories' 20-point lead narrowed to a two-point lead, which continues to shrink. Poilievre's brand boils down to "Make Canada America Again" – dismantle medicare, smash unions, punish immigrants, ban abortion. With Canadians booing the American anthem at NFL and NBA games and Quebecois demonstrators waving maple-leaf flags, this is not a good time to be running as the America guy.

Don't get me wrong. Trudeau is terrible. Bill Clinton terrible, say. But Poilievre? A fucking monster. Canada's political future may just have been rescued by Trump's big, stupid mouth. Thanks, eh?

Meanwhile, south of the border, our American cousins keep getting fed into the corporate woodchipper. It's been just over a year since Mainers went to the polls and voted in a Right to Repair law with an 83% majority. But a year later, the law is foundering, amid a corporate legal blitz led by the automakers, who have also put Massachusetts' massive popular 2020 Right to Repair law on ice with endless lawfare. :

https://www.techdirt.com/2025/02/07/automakers-sue-to-kill-maines-hugely-popular-right-to-repair-law/

This is the status quo in America. As a highly influential, widely cited 2014 peer-reviewed study found:

economic elites and organized groups representing business interests have substantial independent impacts on U.S. government policy, while average citizens and mass-based interest groups have little or no independent influence.

https://www.cambridge.org/core/journals/perspectives-on-politics/article/testing-theories-of-american-politics-elites-interest-groups-and-average-citizens/62327F513959D0A304D4893B382B992B

In other words, the only time the American people get what they demand is when giant corporations and oligarchs want it too. But when the plutes want something that the people despise, they almost always get their way.

Speaking of which, how's things going with Uber?

This week, Hubert Horan, the aviation industry analyst whose writings on Uber are the most important analysis of the company's business, investor scams, wage theft, and lobbying, published his long-awaited 34th research note on the company:

https://www.nakedcapitalism.com/2025/02/hubert-horan-can-uber-ever-deliver-part-thirty-four-tony-wests-calamitous-legacy-at-uber-and-with-the-kamala-harris-campaign.html

This edition is devoted to Tony West, Uber's Chief Legal Officer, and also brother-in-law to Kamala Harris, as well as manager of her disastrous failure of a 2024 election campaign. West may have run a Democratic presidential campaign, but he epitomizes the corporate corruption that gave rise to Trump. As Horan writes, West's first major accomplishment at Uber was to get the company exonerated for intimidating customers who were raped by Uber drivers. But his obituary will lead with the fact that he got Prop 22 passed in Calfornia, legalizing Uber's worker misclassification gambit, which allows the company to pay well below minimum wage and evade all workplace protection laws.

It was West who tapped Silicon Valley's tech oligarchs for large-dollar donations to the Harris campaign, which presumably played a substantial role in Harri's unwillingness to take a tough line on Big Tech while on the trail, creating the (correct) impression among voters that Harris would stand up for big business over their own interests.

It's an important read, and it's a reminder that the Democrats lost the last election every bit as much as Trump won it, and that their paralysis in the face of a national crisis is absolutely in character for the Democratic Party.

But on the other hand, the antitrust surge in the US, UK, EU, Canada, Australia, France, Germany, and China (!) over the past five years are all the more remarkable and heartening in light of the dismal and corrupt state of world governments. After all, there is no billionaire-backed dark money lobby whipping up support for smashing corporate power. The antitrust victories of the 2020s marked a turning point – the first time in my memory when extremely popular policies that the wealthy hated triumphed.

Decapitating the agencies that made those policies won't change the enormous political rage that led to the antitrust surge. If anything, it will only feed it. Enforcers like Rohit Chopra, Lina Khan and Jonathan Kanter did brilliant, important work – but they were only able to do it because of us. They're out of office, but we're still here. Don't ever forget that.

I certainly won't. This week, I turned in the edited manuscript for my next book, a nonfiction title called Enshittification: Why Everything Suddenly Got Worse and What To Do About It, which Farrar, Straus and Giroux will publish next October:

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9780374619329/enshittification/

The day I turned it in Ars Technica ran a huge package called "As Internet enshittification marches on, here are some of the worst offenders," reeling off the most disgusting high-tech ripoffs trying to worm their way into your home and wallet:

https://arstechnica.com/gadgets/2025/02/as-internet-enshittification-marches-on-here-are-some-of-the-worst-offenders/

This sparked an epic Reddit thread on r/NoStupidQuestions:

https://www.reddit.com/r/NoStupidQuestions/comments/1ij42yh/what_are_some_other_examples_of_enshittification/

I love to see how giving a name and a description to this phenomenon has captured and directed some of that rage. And for the record, it doesn't bother me at all that some of these people are using "enshittification" to mean "corporations fucking shit up" without regard to my formal definition of the process. As I wrote last October:

Many people apply the term "enshittification" very loosely indeed, to mean "something that is bad," without bothering to learn – or apply – the theoretical framework. This is good. This is what it means for a term to enter the lexicon: it takes on a life of its own. If 10,000,000 people use "enshittification" loosely and inspire 10% of their number to look up the longer, more theoretical work I've done on it, that is one million normies who have been sucked into a discourse that used to live exclusively in the world of the most wonkish and obscure practitioners. The only way to maintain a precise, theoretically grounded use of a term is to confine its usage to a small group of largely irrelevant insiders. Policing the use of "enshittification" is worse than a self-limiting move – it would be a self-inflicted wound.

And also: there's a lot of stuff that's just shitty right now, which is one of the reasons my word's putting up such great numbers. People are getting fed up with it, in ways large…and small. Take the post-pandemic trend of using your phone in speaker-mode in public places. I'm a prison abolitionist, but I'll make an exception for people who do this. Display 'em in stocks. Chain 'em up by their wrists. Or, you know, do what they do in France: fine them €150 for using a speakerphone on the train:

https://www.thelocal.fr/20250206/french-train-passenger-fined-e150-for-using-phone-on-speaker

Speaking of gruesome tortures, the essential Long Forgotten blog has posted its extensive, thoughtful review of the changes to Disneyland's Haunted Mansion. Very few people can write about built environment entertainment like Long Forgotten (the only other person who comes to mind is the excellent Foxx Nolte). Long Forgotten's verdict is "mostly good, but man, that new gift shop *suuuuucks:

https://longforgottenhauntedmansion.blogspot.com/2025/02/beyond-bride-other-changes-in-2025.html

OK, it's time for me to go and make my packing list for the tour. I'm going to leave you with a song. Last night, my pal Cynthia Hathaway turned me on to the Shotgun Jazz band, led by trumpeter/frontwoman Maria Dixon. If you like Louis Prima-style shout-singing, you'll love 'em – I bought everything they had on Bandcamp this morning:

https://www.shotgunjazzband.com/

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2025/02/08/commixture/#petardhoists

Image: i ♥ happy!! (modified) https://commons.wikimedia.org/wiki/File:Messy_storage_room_with_boxes.jpg

CC BY 2.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/2.0/

[ancha-aus]

Bitty Surprise - Chapter 1 - Pov Cross

Hello! What is this? This is something I normally only do on my AO3. My normal uplaod day is Sunday over there and I try to upload a chapter of a completed series every Sunday.

The thing is. This one is a short one and I figured everyone here could also appreciate the bitties. So I am cross posting.

The link to the AO3 story is Here.

Enjoy the bitty madness :)

---

Summary:

With the truce in place Killer, Cross and Nightmare are free to travel around the multiverse. They never expected to come across some Bitties who proceeded to steal their souls. They hope they at least did the same in return.

*---------------------------*

Cross can honestly say he is happy with the truce.

And no Killer that has nothing to do with the fact that they now are included in the council meetings and that Dream has been talking to him again.

Cross can admit it is nice to be able to try and repair his friendship with Dream but the eye brow wiggles from Killer has to stop.

Seriously, they are skeletons how does he even do it?

Cross just loves the fact that they can now actually go to neutral universes for their shopping without having to worry that someone is going to act weird.

Well they still act weird but now they can’t refuse service as easily or raise the prices because the Stars will be mad at them.

At the moment Killer and him are doing some grocery shopping. They had found this new neutral universe and it is perfect!

The monsters were never locked underground. They are chill about skeletons. They hadn’t even met the ‘main cast’ just yet! It is a large enough universe and world that they just, hadn’t ran into their own alternative and honestly it is a nice change of pace. Cross is getting tired of always having to explain that ‘yes technically he is Sans’ and ‘No they aren’t the same person because environment and nurture affects how a person shapes,’ and ‘It is more like having the same name and coming from two different countries.’. Cross can’t even count all the times people in universes have gotten weird about their own universe version of him after meeting any of the universe travellers.

Either way he is getting off topic.

The shops are all up to date and modern and have a large amount of styles.

Hell! Even boss had been treated neutrally here!

Instead of the fear and distrusting glares shot his way, this universe had been kept completely out of the loop! Which means they just see Nightmare as just another monster. Hell at most someone asked Nightmare if he was part slime monster.

Cross had managed to keep it together but Killer had wheezed and fallen over laughing.

Cross is also unsure how Nightmare had managed to keep a straight face before giving a charming smile and telling them that he got that a lot, but that it was just an expression of magic which caused the form. The monsters who had asked had quickly apologised for being rude. Nightmare however had just continued to smile and reassured the other that it had been alright as they hadn’t meant it as rude or negative but from a place of interest and respect.

Cross sometimes wonders if the war could have been over quicker if Nightmare had used his charms instead of the intimidation strategy but he isn’t going to finish that thought.

Either way it means that Killer and Cross have been doing most of their shopping in this universe and they tended to go to the same city, mostly because they knew the way at this point and where to get the best deals.

The truce did mean they didn’t have as much… disposable income anymore. No longer going on raids cuts back a lot in your pocket money.

It isn’t as if they have issues, Nightmare is a great boss and doesn’t let them have issues like that. It just means that now they actually have to pay for everything they want and that makes them more aware of prices again.

And honestly it is worth it as Cross can just enjoy spending time with Killer and Nightmare both without someone attacking them. It gives Cross time to really enjoy the experience and their company-

A snort and Cross looks over before biting down hard to stop himself from laughing “Killer.”

Killer grins as he leans against a doorway of a random shop, a large pink feathery boa around his neck and even bigger and brighter orange sunglasses on his skull.

“Killer? You must be mistaken! I am the fabulous Killster!! The real diva of the land!”

Cross knows he is going to lose this fight, especially with some kids nearby giggling before rushing back to their parents.

Cross rolls his eye lights as he turns away and starts walking “I am leaving you! And I am not going to get those snacks you want! Or maybe I will just get the wrong ones on accident! You are soooooo picky about them!”

“Hey! You don’t mess with the Crunchables!”

Cross snorts as Killer joins his side again, sans boa and sunglasses. Hah, sans, Cross may actually get better at this punning thing.

Cross looks around and realises he walked into another street parallel to the one holding the store they had been going to. Oh well, the long way it is. It is sunny anyway and a nice day to enjoy it.

Killer catches up and huffs “You are no fun.”

Cross answers with a deadpan voice “Of course not. They don’t train humour in the army.”

Killer snorts “Explains why XGaster was such a tool.”

Cross laughs and nods. It used to hurt, thinking about his past world. But he has made peace with his loss. He has a new home now with Nightmare and Killer and he is happy.

He knows that the Stars invited him to live with them after the truce had been made but… Cross hadn’t wanted it. He had wanted to just remain with Killer and Nightmare. Cross had found a certain peace in the silent and isolated castle. A happiness with being near Nightmare and Killer.

Cross could still remember how so many had come to him. Asking him if he had been okay, if he was sure about this decision, if he was being threatened.

Funny.

How even with a truce in place and Nightmare keeping his word to the dot people still mistrusted him.

Cross remembers how he had asked Killer about it. Why everyone still looked at them in that way. While they hadn’t with Cross. Even with Cross having been the reason half the multiverse had gotten into a war and XGaster had gotten out. Killer had snorted and looked so amused as he explained “You look like a hero. You behave like people expect a hero to be. Of course you are forgiven.”

Cross hadn’t liked it at all. Because it had been Nightmare who had even figured out that Cross hadn’t been in full control of himself. Nightmare had been the one who managed to at first lock XGaster out, then later lock XChara away and later remove them completely. Making it so that Cross was truly free to be himself again.

Yet everyone acted as if it had been the Stars. All while Ink had had a direct hand in bringing XGaster back and giving him his overwrite power back.

So Cross now just ignored most people and much preferred his own home. Where people didn’t question how he felt or thought the whole time. Where he had his new family.

Killer nudges him “Hello~ Crossy boy~ time to wake up again~” and he stares at him with those dark sockets “You good…” he glances to the side and kicks a rock “Didn’t meant to… like… trigger stuff I guess.”

Cross snorts and bumps their shoulders together “Nah, just my own mind wandering.” He looks around for a distraction when he feels himself freeze.

Oh.

My.

God.

That is.

He grabs blindly and tugs hard. Killer makes a choking sound “Cross!”

Cross just keeps tugging “Kills. Kills you need to see this. Kills. This day just became amazing.”

Killer grumbles but Cross feels him freeze under his hold “Holy shit… is that a…”

“Bitty store.”

They share a look and rush over to the store.

Only to pause by the window.

“Oh my god oh my god oh my god they are so tiny!” Killer jumps in place as he has both his hands on the window as he stares at the tiny monsters.

Cross can’t actually recognise these monsters. Normally the bitty stores seem to specialise in monster types and have all kinds of bitty versions of other multiverse goers.

This seem like… just bitties. Just really tiny cute little things. Cross feels his soul melt at the sight of a tiny tiny lion like monster yawning before rolling up. A tiny shirt and pants on and all kinds of plushies around it as the bitty hugs one of them close.

Cross’s skull is turned back around and Killer stares at him with the most serious look Cross has ever seen on his face “Cross. If I don’t go in there and hold at least one bitty I will fucking die.”

Cross blinks before remembering. Bitty universes tended to not allow anyone access and least of all them. Saying it is too much of a risk to have any bitty of either the Stars or the Crescents given out. At least the Stars weren’t allowed versions of them either.

But these… these didn’t look like versions he had seen before…

Cross grins widely “You wouldn’t be able to stop me from holding one.” And he ducks under Killer’s arms and enters the shop.

A pleasant little bell rings out as Cross lets his eyes go around the store. It is chaos and overfull and should be overwhelming but it is beautiful and Cross never wants to leave.

The walls are covered with shelves and even more shelves all filled with all types of colourful items, tools, tiny house expansions. All for bitties. There is a bookshelf by the cash register that holds books all about bitty care.

But most importantly. To the other side by the window, which is cracked open to let some fresh air in. Are the bitty containers.

“Oh shit.” And Killer rushes straight there and falls to his knees to be on eye level with some of the glass containers as he coos that the miniature monsters.

Cross rushes to his side and just stares in awe.

He is unsure how long they just stare until they hear someone laugh softly behind them.

“I take you never saw a bitty before?”

Cross turns around and sees a ram monster behind him. Cross feels slightly embarrassed as he looks back at Killer, who has yet to stop staring at the bitties, before he looks back “We… we euh… We know of them of course. We just never had the chance to… see them ourselves.”

The ram laughs as they look at Killer who has actual hearts in his sockets as he stares at two tiny bitties starting to interact.

The ram looks back at him and grins “If you want you two can hold some of them.”

That shakes Killer out of his staring as he looks up in awe at the ram “We can!? But I thought… They bonded quickly and stuff?”

The ram huffs “Only when not treated right.” they look apologetic “I am sorry. I just know that a lot of people keep those poor bitties isolated. Makes them more likely to quickly bond to a new owner. But that is cruel. The little guys are happiest and healthiest if they can interact with one another and form a bond or two with fellow bitties.”

Cross nods along “I never heard that before but it makes a lot of sense.”

Killer nods “Yeah! Cats have it too! Cats bond with fellow cats! Which is why it is advised to adopt two or a bonded pair when you adopt a cat. I assume the same counts for bitties?”

The ram smiles brightly “It does! Come! I will show you some of the older bitties, they are more likely to let you hold them in peace and won’t mind it too much.” The ram leads them away from the front and to a larger container, Cross glances down and spots about sixteen bitties.

Killer gasps as he stares “They are so small.”

The ram laughs “Yeah you never get used to it.” they open the container which causes a few of the bitties to look up. The ram smiles “Hey you guys. Any of you okay with letting some new visitors hold you for a bit?”

The bitties share looks before a goat bitty rises and easily walks over to the opening and holding their arms out. The ram lowers their hand and the bitty climbs up themselves.

The ram takes the bitty out and doesn’t even close the container behind them.

Killer has his hands in a cup and the bitty is carefully transferred. Killer just stares in awe and gently pets the bitty. Cross looks nervously at the container “euh… shouldn’t you like… close that?”

The ram hums and looks over his shoulder “Oh no it is fine. Bitties, once comfortable, don’t tend to run away or explore beyond the area they see as home. I mostly keep those closed and locked to make sure customers don’t just remove bitties from their areas without permission.”

Cross nods and feels Killer nudge him with his shoulder “Cross. Cross. You gotta try this man!”

Cross looks at the ram monster and they laugh as they ask for another bitty to volunteer which another bitty answers, a dog monster bitty this time. One transfer later and Cross has an adorable tiny dog monster in his hands. Staring up at him and wagging the tiniest little tail when Cross pets him.

Eventually both bitties seem to have had enough and start to fuss, which the shop keeper sees and they quickly take the two bitties back and put them with the others. In the container one little cat like bitty runs to the goat to check them while three other dog bitties rush the returned dog bitty.

The shop keeper grins “See? Bonded pairs and groups. They are adorable when they snuggle together and sleep.” And they point to one pile of three bitties all sleeping peacefully together in the afternoon sun.

Cross can’t help but coo at the sight. Killer turns to the shopkeeper with a begging look “Can we… hold more?”

The ram laughs but nods as they keep retrieving bitties for them to hold. Cross thinks his favourite is a little cat one who had been nuzzling the tips of his phalanges, even when he got scratched by the little guy.

They spend their whole afternoon in that little shop. Talking to, holding and snuggling tiny bitties. Some are friendlier than others and Cross still isn’t sure just who his favourite is. Maybe the shy little guy that kept hiding his face. Or the sweet bitty who would hug his finger. Or the bitty that bit his phalange as soon as Cross tried to pet them. Oh Cross just can’t decide.

“Oh… my… god!”

Cross blinks away from the tiny sleeping bitty in his hands as he searches for Killer, only to see Killer disappear behind a shelf near the windows.

“Oh are you kidding me! This is the cutest ever! Hey! Sir! Can I please hold this skeleton bitty?”

Oh. My. God.

Cross very carefully returns the bitty he was holding to the right container before running towards where he saw Killer disappear. The moment he gets to Killer he saw what has the other enchanted.

Perfectly at eye level for them. Right by the window near the cracked open side. Is a container with a lone skeleton bitty inside.

The bitty is bigger than the bitties they had seen until now but that mattered very little because it was still a bitty and still not even as big than their own hands.

The little thing is munching on some pieces of fruit and seems completely uninterested in the noise they are making or the fact that Killer is pretty much plastered against the side of their cage. The little thing just munches on their fruit as they look out of the window.

Cross can’t help but notice the caved in skull and how one socket is completely black while the other socket is red with a tiny spot of black. The bitty is wearing this large, for them, jacket with a fluffy hood and some shorts.

The shopkeeper catches up to them and Cross hears them pant “Please no running in the store!”

Killer only turns a tiny bit, his own empty sockets not looking away from the bitty “Can I please hold this one? Oh they are just adorable!”

The ram monster frowns before seeing where Killer is looking and they look apologetic “Oh… euh… I am sorry but no… that little guy isn’t really for holding or anything… Not even really up for adoption for that matter.”

Cross frowns before once again noticing that the little guy is all alone… No other bitties with them. “Where is their bonded bitty?”

The ram sighs as they looks sheepish “Well, the little guy is bonded! It is just… Bitey is… bitey… and he can’t be with other bitties… Mostly because he tends to steal the food from the other bitties and stockpile it.” The ram walks over with some food and very carefully unlocks the actual little gate.

As soon as the lock unlocks the bitty turns around and the large red socket stares at the ram. Cross can see the bitty study both Cross and Killer before dismissing them and staring at the one holding the food.

The ram very slowly moves a hand closer and into the container.

The bitty glares and starts to show their fangs and a low growl starts to leave the tiny thing.

The ram speaks softly “It is okay. I know you are stressed. I am just giving you some food. I won’t take anything from you.” the ram slowly fills the food dish before the hand leaves the cage and the cage is relocked.

The bitty continues to stare at the gate for a bit before slowly rising from its spot and taking a few steps closer. He looks up to check the gate and ends up grabbing the filled dish and pulling it over with him. Back to the spot he had been sitting at. The one closest to the window.

Killer just coos loudly as he stares at the bitty. And Cross gets it. It is so fucking cute.

The ram sighs.

Cross turns to the ram and frowns “So… where is their bonded bitty? Wouldn’t the little guy feel relaxed and happy if his bonded or bondeds are near?”

The ram sighs again as they rub their face “We know! The problem is… we don’t… actually have the other bitty that he bonded with?” They wave at the open window “There is a bitty somewhere here in town… just going around in the alleyways… we don’t know who they are or how they are, they were not originally from this store to begin with!” they sigh and look sadly at the skeleton bitty “We would… like to let this little guy go to reunite with his buddy but… well… the skull, as you no doubt know better than anyone… it needs constant treatment…” they sigh sadly.

Killer frowns “Why not catch the other little guy?”

The ram chuckles “Oh we tried. We tried everything but the little guy is smart and slippery and… well… the last time we tried to catch him he made a run for it and we didn’t see him for five weeks.”

Cross feels himself freeze. Five weeks? From what he understood not being near their bonded for a few days was already rough for the bitties…

The shopkeeper sighs “This little guy was beside himself. Whining and staring out of the window. Trying to escape multiple times. Not even eating his own food and just stockpiling it all. We were so worried. When the other guy came by for a visit again we just… we decided it was for the better to just leave them an easy way to interact.” And they wave at the open window.

Killer frowns “What about cats? I thought cats hunt bitties?”

Cross feels his soul speed up with panic. There is a tiny bitty all alone outside and there are cats and what if those cats get the little guy and-

The ram holds up their hands “No! Well… yeah… But we have yet to see a cat try to get in but we have security cameras. Bitey’s friend tends to only come when there is no one in the shop at night.” they nod towards the cage where the little bitty has been sorting the food and between moving it he keeps looking up at the window, as if waiting.

Waiting for his equally tiny friend.

The ram smiles as they point back to the other bitties “Either way, this bitty isn’t for sale or adoptable. Want to look at the other bitties again? There are many more in all shapes and forms!”

Killer looks back at the tiny skeleton “Fine I guess…” he stares for a moment longer before going back to the other bitties.

They spend a while longer holding the other bitties in the store. But Cross knows his soul isn’t in it. He can’t help but keep thinking about a tiny bitty outside. All alone and having to take care of himself. About the tiny bitty who is alone in a cage, hoping for his one friend and family to come back for him, while all the other bitties dislike him. Cross is reminded of the empty space he had been, all alone. He is reminded of Killer who had been in his own dead AU for a long time. About Nightmare, who no one seemed willing to try and understand or even bother to talk to, to try and understand why he did what he had to.

Killer and him end up leaving the store in silence as they continue their track to the grocery store. They are lucky it is still open and they quickly grab the things they need. Neither of them say anything as they collect the things they need and pay.

They don’t bother to explore the streets anymore after getting the stuff they needed and Cross uses his, well it used to be XChara’s but now it is his, knife to cut a doorway for them.

They step through and Cross feels himself relax.

Home sweet home.

Hah!

Strange how before it was just a place of work but now it is his home.

Killer had called it Nightmare’s hideout once. But Cross likes to think it is more than just that now. It is their hideout, their home. A place where the multiverse can’t get to them and they can just be. A place perfectly safe with nothing that can hurt them anywhere near.

Honestly it would be the perfect place to have two tiny bitties run around, nothing would hurt them as they explore-

Cross shakes his skull and goes straight to the kitchen after entering the castle. He opens the bag and starts putting things away. Killer looks into the bags and takes out some frozen pizzas which he puts in the oven.

They are quiet as they clean up and wait for the timer to run out.

“You two are oddly quiet.”

Cross looks up as Killer grins “Sup boss!”

Nightmare rolls his eyes as he looks unimpressed “Not much of a boss anymore. Why do both of you feel disheartened? I thought you two were going to one of the universes that we had already called clean?” he frowns.

Cross feels touched by the worry as he shrugs “We did! We went to the usual place.”

Nightmare’s frown doesn’t disappear “That doesn’t explain your emotions.” he looks between the two of them.

Killer huffs as he leans on the counter with crossed arms “We were just walking through town and- Wait! Nightmare!” Killer stands upright with a large grin “They have a bitty shop in that universe!”

Nightmare blinks and looks surprised “But it is a neutral universe…”

That is when Cross remembers. Cross himself and Killer may have had the chance to see bitties once or twice from a distance… but Nightmare wouldn’t have had the chance, ever. As Nightmare at first hadn’t been able to enter positive universes and later it was just too much of a risk as he would be weaker and the Stars stronger.

Killer seems to have thought of the same conclusion as he grins widely “Mare you need to come with us next time! There were so many bitties! They were all so cute and were so well behaved but not afraid or anything and it was all clean and well taken care of!” and Killer starts explaining with wide gestures what they saw and how they held some bitties.

Cross keeps an eye on the oven and by the time Killer winds down talking the pizzas are ready for them. They all get their own and get comfortable at the table to eat their dinner.

Killer grins widely “Oh and Nightmare! They had a skeleton bitty! Not any other multiverse goer or anything! The little guy was straight up just his own person! He was cute and was just hoarding food and such a big little guy!”

Nightmare chuckles as he eats a piece “If this whole conversation is just a windup to ask if you can adopt a bitty you could have started with that.” He eats another bite.

Killer’s grin falls and he sighs “Not like it is possible… little guy isn’t up for adoption.”

Nightmare frowns “Why not?”

Killer just stares sadly at his plate and Cross speaks up “Well, bitties bond to other bitties for like stability and mental health and stuff. Well the little skeleton guy does have a bitty he is bonded to, but that bitty isn’t actually in the shop but a wild bitty.”

Nightmare stops and frowns at them “I thought bitties couldn’t live in the wild?”

Killer pouts as he lays on the table on crossed arms “They normally can’t… guess it is just a very crafty bitty.”

Cross thinks “I think there are some AUs where they can but that are the special cases. In general they can’t…” he sighs as he pushes at his pizza “We are just worried about the two little guys…”

Nightmare looks at them thoughtfully before nodding “I see. And while adopting isn’t possible you could always visit him and sponsor him.” and he eats.

Killer shoots up and stares in shock “What?”

Nightmare pauses as he looks unimpressed “You can visit the bitty still. Not to forget you may be able to make a deal with the shop that you at least adopt him in name. That way you can still spoil him but the shopkeeper will be able to make sure everything is still fine. In some places it is called sponsoring.”

Cross blinks confused “That is a thing?”

Nightmare nods “It is often done with endangered species, at least in quite a few universes. It makes the people feel more involved and attached to them. Maybe you can make a deal with the store and work something out?” and he turns back to his pizza.

Killer jumps up “Yes! We can totally do that! Oh! And tomorrow we can show you where the store is! That was you can also see the bitty!”

Nightmare chuckles “It is fine Killer.”

Killer pouts “Come on boss, it will be fun!”

Nightmare sighs as he shoots Killer a look “I thought we already agreed I am not technically your boss anymore. At most I am your landlord.”

Cross snorts “Being a landlord implies we are paying you, which we aren’t.”

Killer nods “In matter of fact you still pay us.”

Nightmare sighs but Cross can spot a small smile on the other’s face.

Cross smiles as he turns to his own food and finally eats dinner.

--

"… Hey."

“Bunny.”

“Who were that?”

“… Don’t know. Left quickly.”

“Okay… stay safe?”

“I am fine bunny.”

“I love you.”

“Love you too.”

*----------*

Next Chapter: [Here]

[whysoblue2]

Honestly, I'm just excited to see the Kallamar and Shamura co-dependant toxic sibling relationship they've got going on, I gotta know just how nasty it got at its different stages and how it likely ended up affecting how they raised their other siblings. I love platonic toxic stuff like this, I would ponder if it could count as Shamura being a bit yandere at some point during it but idk if you're comfortable with that sort of comparison and I don't know much about their relationship besides what you have told. I need the DETAILS, the DRAMA

OOOH yeah, their relationship is juicy and hella toxic in my HC. I'm not going to lie, it's bad, but I wouldn't go so far as being yandere. Travis is 100% yandere. Let's see if I can explain. Long post on my silly headcanon ahead! You have been warned!

Young Shamura god of war, ruthless and merciless. An extremist that has the mission to reshape the Pantheon as they see in their vision, over the blood and bones of other gods. This lil squidling god still didn't unlock the power of his crown and that's perfect because, to Shamura, that is a white canvas, something they can shape the way they want, also the lil shit can heal? A big plus! So they bring said lil shit on the battlefield and train him the way they think is right, following their doctrines and ofc it's really bad. I mean Young Shamura displayed the same empathy of a floor tile, only Kall's influence changed that as I mentioned in a previous post I think. Imagine the Trade meme with Shamura: I receive: The ability to love and care You receive: Trauma and life-long fear But as the squid grows up they realise he does have a personality, he is not a blank slate and he wants to do his own thing, he loves art, music, dancing, and all those meaningless things that won't matter in a war. Also, he wants to go and slay gods (and slay in general💅🏻) his own way! AND THAT'S BAD! Because after so many years fighting together, Kallamar is not just a brother-in-arms but the only family they have! The realisation struck: he was their beloved little brother! Shock ensues. But Shamura doesn't know how to deal with it outside tactics, strategies and warfare so to protect his little brother, they treat him like a war asset with everything that it entails. (I let your imagination run wild here.) Things will happen that will finally make Kall snap and unlock the power of the blue crown, turning him from health to pestilence. From there things will go smoother. Shamura will accept that he has his own personality/cult/followers, but that doesn't mean they like it. They most definitely won't like it when Kall starts dating disciples and mortals. Good luck with that one, Shamura, it's gonna be fun! Of course, this is in the span of centuries while the god slaying and war rages on, not exactly the easiest of times. How will that affect the way they raise the siblings?

As Narinder enters the game, Shamura will find the cat easier to deal with and they focus on raising him, trying not to repeat the same mistakes they made with Kallamar. When Narinder joined, Kallamar would always follow them in their training, terrified that Shamura would use the same extreme methods on the kitten. He is pleasantly surprised to see that while being hard on the kid, they are not nasty and they show care! Yay! (in the meanwhile, it will dawn on him - not true ofc - that he doesn't matter to Shamura anymore and that Narinder has replaced him. The fact he had to endure the bad Shamura for so long and when finally they were good Shamura, they didn't give a damn about him anymore hurts a lot.) Then Kall is responsible for raising both Heket and Leshy singlehandedly. Shamura had very little part in training Heket (she arrived as the war was ending) and none at all in Leshy (who had never seen war at all in his life), so the joys of being a big brother/dad are all on him. But that meant he would do everything possible to not be like Shamura! He could do better, right? Wrong! The backlash of this is that he is way too soft and understanding, to the extent that the young ones don't take him seriously at all, so they grow up basically bullying the shit out of him.

I CANNOT GIVE YOU MORE DETAILS! Cause I'm gonna write them in the fic 😈 Drama&Angst guaranteed. I hope that's a good enough answer!💙 Thank you!

[goldfades]

i so desperately wish that more people would write for luka 💔💔 i’m fiending

do not fret, i'm here to save yall <3

date night ┈ doncic

the living room is a mess, and it’s entirely your fault. pillows from the couch have been sacrificed to the floor, forming a makeshift nest of questionable comfort. the coffee table is cluttered with half-empty snack bowls and a precariously balanced bottle of wine, though you haven’t cracked it open yet. somewhere on the far corner of the couch, luka is sitting with his arms crossed, his expression teetering between amused and skeptical.

“i don’t see why this is a big deal,” he says, stretching out his legs like he’s preparing for some kind of endurance test. his accent softens the complaint, though you don’t miss the playful eye roll.

“it’s not just a big deal,” you argue, turning from the television where the dvd menu hums quietly, “it’s the deal. it’s harry potter. it’s childhood. it’s magic.”

you punctuate your defense by shoving a throw blanket at him, which he catches with a practiced ease, his long fingers curling around the fabric. he doesn’t respond right away, but the corner of his mouth twitches like he’s trying not to laugh at your theatrics.

“magic,” he repeats, the word heavy with disbelief. “so this is why you made me cancel dinner plans?”

“no, i made you cancel dinner plans because you suggested a steakhouse again.” you plop down next to him, sinking into the fortress of blankets and cushions. “and because you’ve never seen this masterpiece. i’m doing you a favor, luka.”

“sure,” he drawls, though his grin finally breaks free. “a favor.”

the screen flickers, illuminating the room in shades of soft blue, and the faint sound of a train whistle fills the air. you curl up closer, your excitement palpable, while luka leans back, resigned but still intrigued—if only because you’re so determined to make this night unforgettable.

he’s humoring you—that much is obvious. but there’s something in the way his gaze flickers between you and the screen, like he’s trying to figure out if this is a joke or if you’re truly serious about the next several hours of his life. you don’t blame him. luka isn’t exactly the sit still and focus on something for fun type; even when he’s home, his brain is always tuned to something else—game strategy, practice schedules, tomorrow’s workout. tonight, though, you’ve hijacked his attention completely, and there’s something deeply satisfying about it.

“you don’t even know what you’re in for,” you say, pulling the blanket tighter around your shoulders. “like, you’re not ready for the wizarding world.”

“wizarding world,” he repeats, tasting the words like they’re in another language—which, in fairness, they might as well be to him. “are you going to explain anything, or am i just supposed to… figure it out?”

“figure it out,” you say, a little too smugly. “that’s part of the magic.”

he groans, tossing his head back against the couch dramatically, and you shove at his shoulder. his laughter rumbles low and warm in his chest, and you try not to notice how contagious it is, how easily it pulls you in.

“fine,” he relents, sitting up straighter and turning his full attention to the screen. “but if this is boring, i’m going to sleep.”

“it won’t be boring,” you shoot back, your voice tinged with a challenge. “and you’re not going to sleep. not on my watch.”

the movie starts, the iconic theme swelling as the title fades into view. you glance at him out of the corner of your eye, gauging his reaction. his face is unreadable, but his brows lift slightly, like he’s impressed against his better judgment.

“what’s this music?” he asks after a beat, the faintest trace of curiosity creeping into his tone.

“john williams,” you answer, a little too eagerly. “he’s a legend. you’ve probably heard his stuff before—star wars, jurassic park, indiana jones—”

“i’ve seen jurassic park,” he interrupts, a small victory in his tone, like he’s trying to reclaim some credibility.

“good for you,” you tease, reaching for the popcorn. “now pay attention. the whole story starts with this kid, harry—”

“yeah, i got that part,” he says, nodding toward the screen where a baby with a lightning-shaped scar is being left on a doorstep.

you fall silent, letting the movie unfold. it’s strange, watching something so familiar through someone else’s eyes. you know every line, every beat of the story, but with luka here, it feels fresh again. every so often, he asks a question—why do they hate him? what’s with the owl? why’s the guy so big?—and you answer each one with an enthusiasm that makes him smile despite himself.

by the time hagrid utters the iconic, “yer a wizard, harry,” luka is leaning forward slightly, his elbows on his knees. he’s into it—you can tell, even if he’s too stubborn to admit it yet.

“wait, so this guy,” he says, pointing at the screen as hagrid escorts harry through diagon alley, “he’s like his… mentor?”

“kind of,” you say. “but not really. he’s more like the cool uncle who shows up out of nowhere and changes your life.”

he nods, his attention flicking back to the movie. “okay. i like him.”

you don’t say anything, but your heart swells a little. luka isn’t the type to hand out compliments lightly, not even to fictional characters.

as the story unfolds, you catch him stealing glances at you—quick, fleeting looks like he’s trying to understand why this matters so much to you. you don’t know how to explain it without sounding ridiculous, so you don’t try. you just let the movie speak for itself, hoping he’ll feel even a fraction of what you feel for it.

and then, just as harry steps onto the hogwarts express for the first time, luka leans back against the couch and says, almost too casually, “so… there are eight of these?”

you grin, your cheeks aching from the effort of not laughing outright. “seven books, eight movies,” you correct, the words practically bubbling out of you. “but don’t worry. we’ll take it slow. one at a time.”

“we’ll see,” he says, but there’s a softness in his voice that wasn’t there before. he doesn’t mean it, not really. you know him well enough to recognize that look—the one that says he’s already hooked.

[ongreenergrasses]

My unpopular Gale opinion is that I dont think he ever loses sight of who the real enemy is. And he makes plenty of mistakes but I dont think he lacks empathy or doesnt see human life as valuable. I know people argue that his actions regarding the Nut are heartless but a) i seriously doubt he was the first with the strategy to collapse the nut (no matter how collins frames it) and b) the nut was a military base, its existence aided in the bombing of hospitals, children and district 12. I think everyone would have preferred if there was a peaceful way or less horrible way to stop the Nut but there likely wasnt without even more severe loss of life (rebel troops going in would have also been a massacre and many had already lost their lives trying to get control of it). The point is that war is ugly. I hate how Katniss and by extension SC tries to argue that that kind of thinking (destroying the Nut) leads to thinking that supports the hunger games. Like there is a massive difference between the two and fandom runs with it to portray Gale as reprehensible.

I hate that fandom acts like Gale has not experienced death or loss because he wasnt in the arena. He experienced that on a much larger scale than Katniss with the d12 bombing, whereas Katniss sees murder and death in the arena on a smaller scale where individuals are at fault which explains why they both react the way they do in mockingjay. In saying that I really feel that Mockingjay does not give enough attention to the district 12 bombing as it should. I don't think it makes sense the victor's village wasnt bombed (it should have been the first thing). But except for Madge, everyone Katniss cares about seems to survive and Katniss even gets to keep family mementos and sentimental things. Obviously because she is the main character but I think it would have been more awful (and realistic) if they had been lost because frankly that is what happens during genocide. There is no warning and people are left with nothing. Its what happened to everyone else in d12. And i definitely hate that SC writes that some survivors thought it was good luck to be of free of d12 at last. I just think that would have been an insane thing to say after watching 90% of your people perish. Considering everyone likely lost someone during the bombing I'm assuming those survivors got sucker punched almost immediately.

I want to print this ask out and frame it

YEAH. Yeah. Katniss and Gale have both suffered immensely but the way that they’ve experienced death and loss is markedly different. one of the things they initially connected on was the loss of their fathers in the same mining accident, and they had similar views and experiences of death. but then Katniss goes into the Games and that starts to diverge. for Katniss, killing is a deeply personal act because she had to do it in such close quarters and suffered so acutely. for Gale, he sees how callously and easily the Capitol inflicts a genocide by wiping out a district and he begins to see death and loss as something that can be done sweepingly to achieve an aim. I don’t think he sees that as a positive thing at all, but he sees how the Capitol wields mass death as a tool and he realizes (correctly, btw) that the only way for the rebels to prevail is to match their tactics.

and his approach makes sense. Gale watched a genocide. he was the only reason any of his people survived at all. the weight of that and the responsibility he was shoved into at max 19 years old is horrifying. he is the only reason D12 still exists. he is also the only reason the rest of the country finds out what happened to D12. and Katniss displays absolutely no understanding of how that would affect him, because she’s also extremely traumatized and stuck in quite a self centered mindset, but as readers we can extrapolate and think about just how much that would screw with his head. but of course this lack of sensitivity and thought also comes from SC, for the reasons you pointed out. the idea that some survivors would be glad to be free of D12…gross. I’m sure plenty of people had very complex feelings about it but who is glad to see their home burn, everything they know lost, and 90 percent of their people killed?

[ceekbee]

There are moments in history where you can feel the tectonic plates of power shifting under your feet, the precise seconds when empires declare themselves rotten and ready to collapse. February 28, 2025, was one of those moments—a grotesque display of unchecked narcissism, geopolitical idiocy, and the full-throttle transformation of American foreign policy into a goddamn mafia shakedown.

Donald Trump, the world’s loudest and dumbest charlatan, decided to hold a public execution of Ukraine’s President Volodymyr Zelenskyy, not with bullets, but with bullying. This was not diplomacy. This was not strategy. This was the kind of goonish humiliation typically reserved for reality television, except now the stakes were measured in millions of lives and the looming specter of World War III.

“YOU’RE GAMBLING WITH WORLD WAR III”

Trump—flanked by his yes-man JD Vance and an eerily silent Marco Rubio—welcomed Zelenskyy to the Oval Office only to berate, belittle, and ultimately dismiss him like a waiter who forgot to refill his Diet Coke. The Ukrainian president had made the grave mistake of advocating for his people, for his country, for his soldiers dying daily on the front lines against Russian invaders. But in Trump’s world, there is no room for dignity or resistance—only total submission to the Don.

"You’re gambling with World War III," Trump barked at Zelenskyy, acting like a discount Tony Soprano shaking down a local shopkeeper. "You either make a deal, or we are out." The message was crystal clear: Surrender to Putin, or America lets you rot.

When Zelenskyy pushed back—trying to explain, like a rational human being, that diplomacy requires more than rolling over and exposing your belly to a psychotic autocrat like Vladimir Putin—Vance chimed in, whining that it was "disrespectful" to discuss such things in front of the American media. Disrespectful! As if the real problem here was the optics, not the grotesque moral betrayal unfolding in real time.

TRUMP’S FIXATION WITH GRATITUDE: A MOB BOSS DEMANDING TRIBUTE

"Have you ever said thank you once?" Vance sneered at Zelenskyy, echoing his master’s worldview that all human interactions are transactional. "You have to be thankful," Trump added, "you don’t have the cards. You’re buried there."

This is what American diplomacy has become: an extortion racket.

Forget alliances, forget history, forget standing up to despots—Trump views everything through the lens of a cheap con artist running a rigged casino. Ukraine, in his mind, is a desperate gambler, and Trump is the pit boss deciding whether to extend another round of credit.

If Zelenskyy had gotten on his knees and kissed Trump’s golden slippers, maybe he’d have left with something. But instead, he left with nothing, because he had the audacity to act like the elected leader of a sovereign nation, rather than a groveling servant.

THE CANCELED PRESS CONFERENCE: WHEN THE HUMILIATION IS TOO MUCH TO SPIN

After the carnage, Trump did what he always does: He took to Truth Social to declare victory.

"I have determined that President Zelenskyy is not ready for Peace," he wrote, as if the real issue is Ukraine’s unwillingness to surrender, rather than Russia’s ongoing campaign of war crimes and territorial theft.

The joint press conference was canceled—which in diplomatic terms is the equivalent of overturning the table and storming out of the restaurant. Zelenskyy was seen leaving the White House, no deal signed, no support secured. Just the bitter taste of betrayal in his mouth.

Meanwhile, the Ukrainian ambassador literally facepalmed in the middle of the meeting. She couldn’t even hide her disgust. This was the international equivalent of watching your boss drunkenly scream at a client in a meeting while you rub your temples and quietly plan your resignation.

TRUMP’S ‘PEACE’ PLAN IS A SURRENDER PLAN

This is all part of a deliberate pivot in American foreign policy. Trump has always sided with Russia, whether it’s calling Putin "a very smart guy," ignoring his war crimes, or pretending Ukraine started the war. Now, his administration is pushing a so-called "peace plan" that amounts to a glorified land grab for Moscow.

The Wall Street Journal has already reported that Trump’s advisers are split on how exactly to force Ukraine to submit. Some want a "frozen conflict"—which translates to "Russia keeps what it stole"—while others are pushing for a formal deal that outright cedes Ukrainian land and resources to Putin. Either way, the outcome is the same: Ukraine loses, Russia wins, and Trump gets to preen about his ‘deal-making.’

THE DEATH OF AMERICA’S WORD

The entire world saw this Oval Office debacle. If you’re an ally of the United States, you just learned a very clear lesson: You cannot trust America under Donald Trump. Your security, your sovereignty, and your survival are all secondary to whether Trump personally feels flattered. If you are not groveling at his feet, you’re expendable.

Meanwhile, Putin is watching. And he’s grinning. Because now he knows that Trump will do his dirty work for him.

Zelenskyy was just the first ally to be fed to the wolves. He won’t be the last.

Welcome to America, 2025. This is what losing looks like.

[howlingday]

The Department of Huntress Licensing

Ciel: Could you explain your situation again for me in a clear and concise manner?

Jaune: Look, it's very simple; we need our friend's huntress license reinstated after she came back from the dead.

Ciel: Is there a particular reason why this person is having their status shifted from "Dead" to "Alive"?

Nora: I mean, from what I heard, she did die, but she was brought back to life by a magic tree or some shit.

Ciel: ...And do you have proof that... that she's no longer dead?

Jaune: I already handed you all of the paperwork at the start of our conversation, okay? I- I don't- Everything should be exactly what you guys required from your website. Your official, government website. Everything should be there.

Ciel: Very well. Let me take a look.

Ciel: ...Mhm... Uh-huh... ...Well, you two have made a major mistake.

Nora: Oh, yay~! My favorite fucking thing to hear ever~!

Ciel: You forgot your separate person's behalf form.

Jaune: What are you talking about?

Ciel: I believe I was very clear. Now the registration can't be processed.

Jaune: We sat in line for four hours, and before that we were looking over your fucking website, and the website said that all we needed were the papers in your fucking hands, and we even asked other people who did the exact same thing, and we even used two forms of ID, like both of our sources said, even though we brought six of them just to be sure, and you denied four of them, so thank Oum you accepted the other two for some fucking reason. I don't know why the other four couldn't be accepted, and then what do you do? You're telling us the information on your fucking government website and the people who went through the exact same fucking shit we're doing is fucking wrong because we're the ones doing it. What the fuck is going on here?

Ciel: It's not my fault that you don't have the proper paperwork.

Nora: Look, Jaune, it's probably fine. You just head back and see if you can find another form, it's probably already filled out by Qrow or something, and I'll just hold our spot in line here.

Jaune: You've got to be shitting me, man! This shouldn't be this fucking complicated! It just can't be!

Ciel: Well, maybe this wouldn't be as much of an issue for you if you just brought the person whose license you're trying to reinstate here in the first place! But no, you forgot a piece of paperwork that YOU didn't even THINK ABOUT HAVING that would help you out because you're not the ones coming back from the dead for your licenses! So why are you complaining about a license that isn't even yours. So just bring the person you're trying to reinstate and we can get this done right away!

Nora: We can't, dude! She's at a war strategy meeting or some shit.

Ciel: Well, isn't that just a bummer for everyone, isn't it?

Jaune: GO FUCK YOURSELF, CIEL-

[marvelousazula]

a little draft on how this AU could start (basically: people think Azula is being stubborn for not speaking to anyone, meanwhile her vocal chords are just terribly damaged – kinda want to write it in Azula's POV actually, but Katara's sorta my default for some reason). (buy me a coffee)

In every interaction of theirs, Azula was polite enough when she wasn't trying to kill them. Or trying to capture them, actually, in hindsight it didn't quite look like she was going for the kill. (She was too deadly, too efficient, for not having killed them if she wanted to.) Surprisingly pacific for a perfect princess soldier.

Which means Katara isn't that surprised by Azula good behavior in the asylum Zuko sent her to. She's more annoyed by how long it took him to bring her home, being stuck in a place where she was locked up in her room all day, forced to take teas to keep her malleable and with her bending weakened didn't seem like the ideal way to deal with yet another child soldier.

It's ironic, really, that knowing Zuko better is exactly what made Katara feel any sympathy towards Azula at all.

Knowing more of Zuko's childhood is also why she's here. It took not much convincing for him to believe that if Azula is behaving well, maybe she doesn't need to stay stuck in there. Reports say she's quiet and cooperative, there are group activities and she seems to tend to have a teamwork mentality – that explains why she's that good at strategy. The only issue is that she doesn't talk.

She never talks. Not even back in the palace, not to servants that have been around her her whole life. She silently acknowledges them, with nods and glances. There are no threats, and no fire, even after a few weeks and there's no trace of that chi-weakening tea. She's not even hostile towards her, and she had been expecting lightning in her face instead of a nod before Azula went on to do whatever she was going to do.

In one of her walks around the palace, late at night, Katara finds herself in that courtyard. It has been over a year, the ground is still scorched. It's disturbing to look at the grate and remember the chains – it's a weird feeling, knowing she did the right thing, stopping Azula, but feeling so bad for the way she did it.

The chains, the armor, had been deformed where Azula's fire touched. Fire hot enough to soften metal.

She blinks, fire hot enough to soften metal.

Firebenders aren't immune to fire, look at Zuko's face.

She's not surprised that Azula is up when she knocks at her door, the princess just frowns at her and tilts her head. It's kinda cute- what? She's quite expressive, actually, Katara had formed the image of cold and stoic, when Azula says more with her eyebrows than with her words.

"I want to test something, I-" this is something they should have checked, yes? Treated, like they treated the burns on her wrists and her chest and shoulders- "You can't speak. It's not that you don't want, or that you're this stubborn, you just can't."

Azula looks astounded for a second, like she expected nobody to notice it. She didn't seem to mind that people thought she was a stubborn brat, letting it slide and just being... a quiet presence. Like she was tired of fighting, of taking up space, like she wanted some peace.

You know, like she was exhausted from a life of being someone's pawn in a senseless war.

"Does it hurt? Your throat?" Azula blinks, like nobody has asked her if anything hurts- then she nods. "I can try to... soothe it a little. I can't really heal anything..."

Azula seems to calculate the risk of allowing someone to bend water on her throat, but maybe it hurts enough to be worth the risk. She nods, steps aside and allows Katara into the room.

Not in a million years Katara thought she'd be in the Fire Nation's Crown Princess chambers to offer her relief for her pain, but here she is.

The war is over, everyone deserves their pain to be soothed, their wounds healed.