#i DID go down this insane rabbit hole where his page mentions multiple times that he has his consciousness transferred into

[gothamslimpestwrist]

s1e1 pilot

killcount:

patrick “matches” malone: thomas wayne, martha wayne

harvey bullock: mario pepper

mooks (directed by carmine falcone): “frankie” the executioner, “sergio” the cameraman, one (?) unnamed fish mooney grunt

oswald cobblepot: fisherman

episode total: 7 total count: 7

the dark knight rises: this is the episode that sets up everything. introduces us to the corruption in the city and how everyone, including the politicians, are dirty, as well as a good number of bruce’s rogues (namely selina, oswald, ed, & ivy). also sets off his whole quest for justice, vengeance, etc. alfred tells bruce not to cry while he’s being lead away from the scene of his parents murder. he decides to conquer fear. he feels responsible for his parents’ death. he is JUST A BABY BOY!!!

sliding scale of barbara kean’s sanity: her introduction. we’re given hints to her troubled past, and she is noticeably upset by the accusation against jim, his concerning absence as he gets into The Shit™, and the way he comes home roughed up. still, at this point, she’s just a concerned fiance w/ an ex-girlfriend. basically okay. baseline barb.

sliding scale of ed nygma’s sanity: also introduced. likes riddles (seriously, the lack of subtlety this show has...), troubled when bullock dismisses him, but it can’t be anything new. just a harmless little guy for the time being! almost makes me forget how much i fucking despise him! 

he also looks Shocked when jim answers his riddle correctly, which is neither here nor there, but it might say smthn about him... what, finding a match? being taken seriously? for the first time.

continuity: can it be continuity if it’s literally the first episode? well, given that all of this is being written by someone who’s seen the entire show multiple times over, it’s the start of a thread of the continuity that i’m going to touch on later, so, whatever. it’s continuity in hindsight. oswald sells mooney out for the necklace, which immediately comes back to bite him. crispus allen does comment that he’s doing this to push her out, a power grab of sorts, but given how clumsy and ill fated that attempt was, all we and the gcpd have been shown of oswald at this point is that he’s kind of a rube. if only they knew....

parallels: ok i only noticed this later, but!!! jim & oswald have SO MANY parallels with all the het couples on this show baby batcat, specifically, and they start at the very beginning. both selina & bruce and jim & oswald have their first encounters (even if bruce isn’t aware of it at the time) in an alley. selina spends the episode keeping tabs on bruce (showing up outside wayne manor and the funeral), while oswald spends the episode doing the same for jim (he’s the one who greets jim at fish’s club when he comes back, we see him reading a newspaper article about jim’s heroics before snitching to montoya and allen). makes you think...!

gobblepot: ohhhhohohohohoho. this is the episode that started it all, baby. jim & oswald meet when oswald, a sadistic umbrella boy for a mobster, is getting a little too aggressive beating some punk in a back alley & jim, a boyscout rookie cop, goes to check it out. diametrically opposed. they briefly meet again when jim comes to threaten mooney, but then, naturally, the Pier Scene™. jim gordon does not shoot oswald cobblepot. and therein lies the source of everyone’s problems from here on out... and the bedrock on which the most interesting relationship in the show is forged. metatexually, renee calls barbara an “old friend” when she’s confronted by jim, setting the phrase up to be somewhat of a sexual dogwhistle (this is admittedly very zig-zagged over the course of the show. still, this is the FIRST usage, and that has to mean SOMETHING). 

jim gordon trauma count: he gets his hand sliced by mario pepper (the first instance of hand trauma on this show preceding many, many to come), and his forehead busted by fish and her guys.

oswald cobblepot trauma count: fish mooney destroys his right leg with a baseball bat, defining his characteristic limp for the rest of the show.

#gotham #meta #text post #honestly? i'm not the same person i was when i started this post #because i couldn't remember which of oswald's legs. was fucked up lmfao? and i tried to just hop over to the gotham wiki to check #didn't find the information there. however #i DID go down this insane rabbit hole where his page mentions multiple times that he has his consciousness transferred into #another body???????? #an event which most certainly does NOT HAPPEN???????? literally i've been reeling about it for like an hour #anyway. it's the right leg. #season one #pilot

[missdawnandherdusk]

How Do You Solve A Problem Like Malfoy?

Draco X Gryffindor!Reader

Part One     Part Two

Summary: Now that you were as confused as ever, you decided to do something about it. And that something was absolutely nothing. Or was it? And would Draco notice? 

A/N: Y’all I really can’t stop writing this because it’s so cute and it needs to get somewhere but those things take time and well welcome to pining and a change of heart. Please enjoy my semesters of Latin used in this series also. It’s quite fun to use what I know to create potions and spells. I love you all and the feedback I’ve gotten so far! It means the world to me! Stay safe and stay creative!

Tags: @un-limiteddd @geekysimmerthings​ @coffee-addicti​ @ilikestuffproductions​ @msmcsmutt​ @ravn-87​ @artemismohr18​ @whygz​ @crazywritingbug​ @dolphincommander​ @bisexualbumblebeesstuff​ @fuzzy-panda​ @bitemebro522​ @zombiesnips-blog​ @jillanaholland​

I spent almost all night trying to figure out what Draco meant in the hall but found nothing. Well, there was the hope that maybe he understood something deeper about happiness... but that couldn’t be possible. And if it was why would he tell me?

I wanted to talk to him, confront him, ask him what he meant.

I also wanted to know where this family feud started... there had to be a good reason that Lupines didn’t get along with Malfoys, other than the obvious I assumed.

But was it obvious?

“You’re going to stare a hole through the wall Y/n,” Hermione didn’t look up from her book as she noted my glaring.

I sighed and flopped back into the plush couch of the common room. Hermione was currently reading—or maybe rereading—So You Think You’re A Wizard? A Guide to Simple Spells and Hexes.

“What am I supposed to do?” I muttered, hugging a pillow and watching the fire dance. “What is anyone supposed to do with a Malfoy? The only options are fear him, hate him, or follow him like a puppy,” I noted.

“Have you actually been around their family?” Hermione asked. “Your family is pureblood, almost noble, like Malfoy... ever go to parties or gatherings or whatever it is that you all do?”

“No,” I sulked. “I was in America. Far away from all of that.” I sat up. “Not that I’m complaining, I loved growing up Muggle... no magic... no shortcuts.” I smiled. “But I came back to go here, and the feud followed me.”

Growing up Muggle was one thing that my parents had kept a secret from the rest of my family and the wizarding world. The only one who knew that I had grown up like that was Hermione—I had accidently slipped up and mentioned that I knew how to bake around her. It was part of the reason that we were good friends, we understood the bizarre nature of magic versus normalcy.

“So, why did you give in?” She asked, looking up from her book.

“I don’t know,” I groaned. “I was younger... he didn’t like me, and I guess I just went with it.” Shrugging, I thought about the last four years.

“And when do you ever do what you’re told?” Hermione challenged with a smile.

I didn’t have an answer for that. She was right of course, there was no reason that this was the one thing that I let someone else decide for me. I was too stubborn for any of that. And maybe it was time that I stopped letting people tell me who I was and who I was going to be.

From the moment I fell down the rabbit hole of Hogwarts I've been told where I must go and who I must be. I've been shrunk, stretched, scratched, and who knows what else. But this was my life. I was going to decide where it went from here.

How I was going to do that... I didn’t have the faintest idea.

“Maybe try to talk to him,” Hermione suggested, reading my thoughts as if they were the words on the page of her book.

“He’s not going to talk to me,” I pointed out.

Hermione gave me a sympatric look and a shrug as she picked up the next book.

______________________________

Draco paced his common room, Crabbe and Goyle’s eyes following him. Every time they tried to speak or offer advice, a cold glare shut them up.

“She is absolutely mad!” He insisted. “She’s worse than Potter and I never thought that was possible! Who does she think she is to accuse me like that!?”

“Why do you care?” The question came from Pansy, who was leaning against the entrance to the common room.

“Excuse me?” Draco snapped.

“You hate her. Why do you care what she says about you? Stop acting like a princess and man up.” Pansy sneered. “She doesn’t know who you are, so why are you listening to her at all?”

Draco glared Pansy down. She did have a point though.

Why did he care at all what you thought of him? Why did he care if there was something about you that drove him insane? Why did he care if you hated him like the rest of the school did?

Why did he care if you had people to confide in about this? Why did he care if you could write to your parents and ask them what to do?

He didn’t care.

That was the bottom line.

It had to be if he wanted to stay on top.

He had a reputation. He wasn’t going to let some Gryffindor demolish it because you could bat your pretty eyes at him and make all of his thoughts stop on a dime.

Nope.

He wasn’t going to let you.

___________________________

“Okay,” I stopped Hermione before we left our shared room the next morning. “There is no way that talking to Draco is ever going to get him to open up... or do anything,”

“Yes,” She waited for me to continue.

“But... he is doing better in the classes that he feels like he has to beat me in?” I said sheepishly. 

“So are you,” She pointed out.

“Yeah, uhuh, not the point,” I dismissed. “But what if I... just kept doing what I am doing... and let it be?” It was a weak proposal, but it was all that I could come up with in the early hours of the morning when he had me wide awake.

“So... you’re going to do exactly what you’re doing and giving into the rivalry... to stop giving into the rivalry and try to get through to him?” Hermione clarified.

“Yes?” I squeaked.

“Yeah, okay I’m in.” She grinned. 

“Really?” Shock flitted across my face.

“Well, you’re doing it with a better motive, so I suppose that’s better than whatever it is at the moment,” She bottom-lined. “Now, will you help me get Ron and Harry to talk to each other again?”

I laughed and took her arm as we headed down to the Great Hall for breakfast and another day of lessons.

Nothing did change, not on the outside. Malfoy was still himself and I still did everything I could to get under his skin. My hand would shoot up in class with the answer before his could and a smirk would stay on my face when the professor commended me on my knowledge. In Potions later that week was the highlight of it all.

“And what is the most dangerous ingredient to Pungo Aedificem?” Snape asked, looking down his nose at the rest of us.

Draco’s hand shot up a grin curled onto his face as he glanced over at me.

“Re'em Blood,” He answered, confidently.

I almost laughed out loud and raised my hand passive aggressively.

“Miss Lupine?” Snape diverted his attention from the crestfallen Draco to me.

“Belladonna,” I answered correctly. “Where Re’em Blood is expensive and rare, it can’t kill you,” I smiled sweetly at Draco. He glared.

“Yes,” Snape eyed the two of us and continued with his lesson.

It was a great way to start the weekend.

As November slipped away and Draco and I were still at our game—one that I had decided to play myself... not because anyone told me to—the excitement of the first task was all the school could talk about. Our feud seemed to simmer a bit with the Triwizard Tournament.

Of course, I supported Harry and wished the best for him, but I knew he shouldn’t be in the tournament to begin with, and I didn’t want to see him win... not that I wished anything terrible on him.

“So, you supporting your friend?” Draco sneered. “He doesn’t have a chance of winning. Not with Krum in the running,”

It was true, Krum had a good chance of winning. Not that every girl in the school had already told him that... multiple times... as they followed him around like a shadow. It was ridiculous.

“How is Krum?” I purred. “He must be swarmed with pretty girls all day. Not like you’d know anything about what that’s like,” I drawled.

“I don’t see you at his heels,” Draco grinned. “He tell you off?”

“I’m flattered that you think I’m a pretty girl, but no, I don’t need to follow a guy around for him to notice me. Unlike some people,”

“I don’t need pretty girls to tell me how good I am,” He retorted.

“You’re right,” I didn’t miss a beat. “You have enough mirrors for that pretty face of yours,” I batted my eyelashes and walked away, towards the Gryffindor Tower to study for upcoming exams.

Hermione found me neck deep into notes and books when she came back to our room.

“Do you have time to help Harry and I work on a Summoning spell?” She asked, grabbing a few books.

“For?”

“The challenge, it’s dragons. Harry needs to Summon his Firebolt and fly,”

“Some of those words made sense, but how they fit together I will never know,” I mused and turned the page of my book. “And I wish I could, but Snape is giving an exam soon on Potions and I need a good grade.”

“Still at it then?” She asked. “How’s your plan working?”

“Like I know... He is talking to me more... but we’re just arguing. Talked about Krum today.”

“Krum?” Hermione stammered.

I grinned, knowing about her little crush. I had caught them a few times in the library closer than necessary.

“Yes, I said he had a good chance of winning. Not that I don’t believe in Harry,” I amended. “Seemed to annoy him that I was interested in Krum,”

“So, he’s jealous,”

“Of what? Me liking Krum? I don’t even like Krum like that,” I scoffed. “And besides, he’s all yours,”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” She mumbled. “I’m going to help Harry,” 

“He called me pretty,” I blurted out.

“What?” Hermione lit up like a Christmas tree.

“Well, kinda? I said something about pretty girls following Krum around and he asked me why I wasn’t following Krum around and I don’t think he meant it, but it happened?” I rushed the explanation out.

Hermione smiled and rolled her eyes, leaving me to my thoughts and books. When the books look more like Latin than English, I gave in and packed up my stuff.

Rain started to patter on the windows as a storm swept over the school. I sighed and got up, draping my robe around me and headed to the Great Hall for some food. It was getting rather late and I hoped that I didn’t wait too long to eat.

I began to think that maybe I should write to my mother about what was happening. She would know what to do... or at least what to say to make me feel better. I didn’t know much, but I knew at least that she was the one who had made my father move to America to take me away from the feud.

In the midst of my thoughts, I ran into someone.

“Sorry,” I blinked, offering an apologetic smile.

Then I saw familiar cold blue eyes.

“Oh,” I took a step back. “Sorry,” I repeated and walked past him.

It struck me as odd that he was alone in the halls without his normal posse of Slytherins. I paused and turned back to him.

“Where’s your friends?” I asked, half teasing half curious.

“None of your business.” He snapped. “But if you must know, they’re helping Krum with the challenge.” He smirked.

“Okay,” I spoke slowly. “I’m... going to get dinner... You’re welcome to join?” My voice was as unsure as I was about what I was asking.

He stared at me like I grew a second head and a tail. Pursing my lips, I shook my head and headed to the Great Hall, rather quickly now.

_________________________

Draco stared at you as you rushed away from him. Did you seriously just ask him to go to dinner with you?

What was that about?

You seemed more at ease around him when it was just the two of you and he thought that it was odd. And you apologized to him instead of making a remark or snide comment. What the hell were you doing?

Nothing much had changed between the two of you. He still found every reason to put you down and you still tried your best to beat him. But recently you weren’t getting angry. You were just smiling when either of you won.

Not that he noticed you smiling.

Of course not.

“Y/n!” He called.

You turned; an expectant look on your face. The same warmth in your eyes. 

“The Great Hall closed about an hour ago,”

You slumped and let out a disgruntled sigh. You rubbed your face, and something fell from appearance. He could see exhaustion in your features. He wondered what had you up so late and so neglectful of mealtimes. Actually, no he didn’t. He didn’t care.

“Okay,” You sighed, finding some sort of resolve. “That’s okay, thank you,”

You kept on your way towards the Great Hall and he wanted to ask what you were doing, or if you needed something to eat. Surely, he could get something from the kitchen for you. He knew how to order around house elves. Now that Dobby was working here, it would be too easy.

Instead he went his own way and didn’t look back.

.

. 

Part 4

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