#and this does not include any of the writing for my thesis that desperately needs done

[heapstone]

too many things to do my head is spinning 😵‍💫

[daintyr0t]

addressing the lost - critique on how shifting is taught, and how you can actually break the cycle.

apologies for lack of formatting or unclear writing, i wrote this on a whim and figured it might help someone out. this isn't directed at any group or person in particular.

i’ve been in the shifting and manifesting community for years and there is a dire need for HELP in these communities. i’m personally tired of watching people fail and the abundance of lack within them. and i am sick of the bad information. i’m sick of the idea that shifting is entirely personal and doesn’t have a direct method. this isn’t true according to the law of assumption. the law of assumption is very clear that assuming you have your desire grants you it materially. i am writing this to address the lost among you and get real about shifting and manifesting.

first, why do i think people fail? they have bad information. they were told to do something that doesn’t actually get them to their desires. for example, they were essentially told to manifest and focus on the process of manifesting instead of having their desires. the people who informed them are out of touch with the majority, they are already on such a high state of understanding that they neglect newcomers who don’t know the first thing about embodying a state of mind. most people already struggle with change in general, especially emotional change. everyone has a different background and relationship with their self concept and reality itself.

teachers need to start from the ground level and work their way up before they engage in deeper concepts. they need to establish each level piece by piece until it is natural, common knowledge. they can gesture to the overall thesis or goal, but you can’t skip over steps. you risk losing people like that. they get out of touch with peoples actual problems. it makes addressing lack seem monumental and impossible. 

and i hate this. i know what it feels like being desperate and hopeless. we need a new mindset, and we’re going back to the drawing board. many people find a way out through sheer persistence, will, and consumption of information. but it does not have to be that hard.. i’m sorry it’s been so hard for all of you.

let’s work from the ground up with reliable concepts we KNOW work. i can’t say i will personally counter every single bad piece of information, but i can try my best, given i have been in this community for years now. 

my personal story is that i am informed by neville goddard's teaching. if you want some sort of credibility on who i am: i have manifested many things before, but i’ve also failed for years and i’ve also experienced complete lack of belief turn into full belief. i have been in and out of religion, so i’m naturally wary of spirituality. i’m passionate about rhetoric and debate. i have had various mental health issues, and i worked myself out of some nasty problems alone through my own internal efforts. all of that is to say that i am naturally skeptical, i enjoy engaging in problem-solving for fun, and i’m extremely practiced regarding managing my inner thoughts and feelings and changing patterns in my head. i applied these strengths of mine to manifesting, and it worked. 

i theorize that i can convincingly teach you, the reader, and argue for manifestation, but it requires a few things from you. you need to be open minded. you need to actual want it. you need to implement it. and you need to be okay with change. essentially, you need to engage in “good faith” as you would in a debate.

you will learn to let go of the unfairly high burden of proof placed on shifting and manifesting, and what actually makes something a “hard scientific fact.” you will analyze your own mind and determine exactly what you want and why, including the bare bone emotions the fulfillment of those desires brings. you will need to come to terms with the idea of actually being in control of your existence and everything in it, as well as every implication that comes with that. you need a solid guiding north star that motivates you through this change, because it can be hard and you might not want to manifest or shift at the end of it. you must learn to treat any bad emotion, thought, doubt, or roadblock as a problem to be solved. it will be as easy or as hard as it is for you to work through any other complicated, emotional problem.

in return, i won’t ask you to believe something you don’t. if anything, i WANT you to distrust things and poke holes into it! be the ruler of your own mind, do not accept information that does not make sense to you, and treat EVERY doubt as a new question. your mind is a gift, use your logic and reasoning. if you believe the existence of shifting and manifesting is fake, you’ll avoid applying rigorous examination to it. that’s you lying to yourself about your disbelief. i will also not shame you for not understanding something. i won’t say you aren’t trying hard enough or that there’s something wrong with you. but i won’t lie to you about the ease or difficulty of shifting/manifesting. it literally depends entirely on how open you are and how much you already accept as true. i won’t invalidate the pain of not getting what you want, especially if you’ve tried a lot already and failed many times. 

with that in mind, i know for myself that this is real and it works. and i know what it feels like to want it so badly, you feel like you’re rotting inside. i have been in both sides. if you can accept what i’ve said, continue reading.

let’s establish this core belief:

manifesting and shifting is a byproduct of your internal power. every single person is consciousness at their core, and shifting/manifesting is becoming aware of a version of yourself that already exists and has/is your desire. the principles of the law of assumption are what make you shift or manifest. that means it is all internal and there should, theoretically, be no strain in applying the law. it should feel natural, instant, and amazing. you give yourself your desire in your imagination, which causes it to materialize in the physical world. your imagination is like your infinite power and the “real” version of reality, while the physical world is a reflection of your imagination and past assumptions. essentially, when you truly give yourself your desire, you feel it to be fully true ( and thus have accompanying emotions or sensations of it being true, like feeling relief or joy ), persist in it, then it manifests. the steps are essentially to define your desire, know you have it, and then receive it while not really caring about receiving it since you already know you have it.

you’ve probably heard things like this before. or maybe you haven’t, and you’re wondering how the hell anyone could believe something so insane. regardless of your familiarity with the law of assumption, it is real and it is how people manifest and shift. the reason you haven’t been able to do so yet is because you don’t believe it yourself. again, if you’ve been here a while like me, you’ve probably also heard that a million times and you’re already rolling your eyes. i know. “i already believe, i have for years, what the hell do you mean?!” if you’ve failed enough, it makes more sense to write off manifesting and shifting as fake than you not doing it properly. but i’m here to tell you right now, you’re not crazy, it’s not your fault you don’t believe, and you are actually doing the right thing being honest with yourself! you’re on the right track to establish ACTUAL belief.if you want to manifest or shift, you must build a true belief with 0 denial and actual results. that means undoing your old thoughts and replacing them with the new. and doing so requires a high level of self awareness, honesty, critical thinking, and ability to confront difficult emotions and thoughts. MY “method” of establishing trust in shifting essentially comes down to CBT therapy administered to yourself. since shifting IS real, you will ultimately come down to that root truth once you’ve peeled back enough layers. once you experience the truth yourself, your belief will exponentially grow until you obtain your goal. 

so, the first step is easiest if you’re new to the idea of shifting and manifesting because you haven’t had months or years of people essentially telling you to brainwash yourself. the first step is radical self honesty about your desires. this should be somewhat enjoyable, as you should be diving into what makes you happy and what fulfills you. get into the thick of why you want to shift and what emotions you should feel when it happens. put a name to all those little emotions, and get as clear as possible.

the second step is radical self honesty about your beliefs about the world and shifting/manifesting. this can be difficult if you don’t know where to start, and it’s a recursive process, meaning you will discover your beliefs as you learn. that’s fine, come back and keep adding new doubts as they arise. i want you to get clear on what it means if shifting is ACTUALLY real. this has massive implications for your life, your relationships, the idea of death, morality in general, etc. most people may feel a bit scared of shifting if you really think about it. get deep into this with yourself and write it all out.

the third step is informing yourself on the law of assumption, shifting, and the world through good resources. you need GOOD teachers that have actually experienced success, not just word of mouth from people who are also failing. this can be a trial and error phase as well, as you may not know what’s good until you learn more. i’ll start you off on the right foot: read neville goddard’s books front to back repeatedly. this cannot fail you.

before you even try attempting shifting again, do this FIRST. you will get literally NO WHERE if you keep trying to shift or manifest out of lack, doubt, fear, and desperation. at the end of the day, our subconscious minds can’t be tricked. if you’re afraid of getting serious about shifting because you’ll seem delusional, then you need to realize what makes a crazy person.

a crazy person is not someone who discovers something amazing, acts on it, and obtains results. a crazy person is not someone who believes in something without a scientific explanation because they personally experienced it. a crazy person is someone who obsessively tries to change something with the same failing method over and over again. you know what that insanity feels like if you’ve failed shifting. THAT is delusion.

i will get into each topic further in future posts. i’ve been writing about this obsessively the past few days because i am overflowing with information and the desire to spread it around. i’m currently writing a long document about the law of assumption and consciousness, and it will dive deeper into every thought i have about this topic. i haven’t gotten into the weeds about shifting yet, but this should be a good starting point for anyone who is failing repeatedly.

tldr: the shifting and manifesting community accidentally perpetuates it's own failure by focusing on "getting" rather than "having" and avoiding self reflection like the plague out of a fear of doubt. if you doubt, address it logically and clearly, or else it's self delusion. actually studying and applying the law of assumption will shift you, guaranteed.

[loganowenblogger]

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[1989bucky]

𝗻𝗼 𝗯𝗼𝗱𝘆, 𝗻𝗼 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 | 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗮𝗹 𝗺𝗶𝗻𝗱𝘀

Word count: 2,759

Rated: M

Includes: Graphic smut, penetrative and oral sex, and mention of multiple partners.

This is for a writing contest for @eideticmemory​ ! I highly recommend checking out her page! 

You didn’t expect your first time with Spencer Reid to happen this way. Work had been piling up and before you knew it, Spencer and you were the last two agents left at the office. Both of you knew that 11 o’clock was far too late for two agents to be left at work, especially since you both decided to work in the conference room instead of the bullpen.

Maybe it was the fact as people started to head home, the thought of leaving each other for the night was something you both couldn’t bear to do. So, Spencer found files that needed to be looked over for the third time, and you kept asking him questions about absolutely anything. That was the one thing you were going to miss most about him, that he could talk for ages about his historical analysis and his doctoral thesis. All 3 of them. You didn’t mind it though, because his heart-shaped lips always looked so pretty when he spoke, and his honey-brown colored eyes were dreamy.

“It’s getting pretty late, plus we have to be back here in 9 hours.” Spencer said calmly, looking behind his back through the slightly shut blinds. No one was left in the office, but Spencer still had this anxiety riding in his stomach, as if they were teenagers about to be caught. But you had a different plan. Why was it so hard to let him leave?  You simply nodded at his statement in agreement, watching him slowly pack up his bag. His body language was hesitant as if he wasn’t sure that what he was doing, was what he actually wanted.

Why were you so nervous? No one had ever made you feel this way before, where your heart could explode any minute. “Spencer.” Was the only thing you could spit out, just desperate to have him near you. While sitting on the conference table, he moved his body closer to yours. He was waiting for you to say something, anything, but words couldn’t form at this moment, so you let your body do the talking.

Spencer stood in between your legs as your uncrossed them from one another. He had never been this close to another woman since Lila Archer in the pool. His breath hitched during this movement while his cheeks flushed. You wanted him to know that this was exactly what you wanted him to do. Placing your hands underneath his suit jacket, you rested them on his hips, looking up to him with a soft pout on your lips.

While being respectful, Dr.Reid, rested his hands on the table next to you, keeping his eyes glued to yours. You had him right where you wanted him. You could see in his eyes that his dominance was evolving and bringing him more confidence. While wrapping your legs around his waist, you slowly inched a hand up to his chest, playing with the buttons on it. “Why don’t we.. stay here for a little longer? Together?” You finally spoke.

You could see his adam’s apple bob from swallowing, the touch of a woman driving him insane. He wanted to give into you, let you have your way with him completely. But he couldn’t do it here. Spencer wanted to be able to be completely comfortable and not have to worry about a midnight cleaner coming around. He wanted you to moan so loud that it bounced off the walls.

That’s how you ended up in Spencer Reid’s apartment at midnight. His body was on top of yours as you shared a wet, heated kiss. You wanted all of your clothes off, you needed to feel his warmth on your skin. Pulling apart from the kiss, you took a minute to catch your breath. Spencer’s lips were so pink, and his eyes had filled with lust. He broke out into a smile once he saw your face again. “Are you okay with all of this?” He wanted to keep hearing your consent, it was important to him. You sat up and unbuttoned your dress top, tossing it to the ground while keeping eye contact. “Does this answer your question, Doctor?”

Spencer’s eyes followed your hands and were glued to your breasts that were spilling over your bra. He grabbed your legs in a rushed manner and brought you closer to him in a second. With your legs on either side of him, he ran both of his hands up your thighs and dangerously close to your panties. “I need to hear you say it.” He mumbled, using his dominant hand to run two fingers over your clothed clit. This action caused your breath to hitch, biting down on your lip to conceal any whimpers. “Tell me.”

Spencer continued to use his two fingers to massage circles on your clit as he waited for your response. Somehow you forgot to speak because the pleasure was so fucking good. “Y-Yes, fuck, yes.” You spat out and opened your legs wider. With a smirk, Spencer had pulled away, the loss of contact causing you to whimper. He positioned himself down the bed and in between your legs, placing his two hands on your thighs to hold them open. Spencer pressed two kisses onto your clit before slipping your panties off your body. “God, you’re so wet already, Y/N.” He said, blowing onto your clit gently. The sensation sent goosebumps down your spine as you laid your head back.

He didn’t waste any time with you. Spencer started to lick your dripping pussy and used his teeth to graze against your clit. Your back arched off the bed and your hands immediately found his hair as you held onto fistfuls of it. Spencer kept a rhythm when you would moan out, or pull onto his hair harder. “Fuck, Spencer.” You whimpered, attempting to close your thighs from the pleasure, but he opened it before you could. His tongue massaged your clit while he took his hand down and inserted his two longest fingers inside of you. “You taste so fucking good.” He muttered, pumping his digits and curling them inside. You covered his fingers in your wetness as Spencer continued to suck on your clit so much, he had you squealing.

You thought you were going to see stars from how could he was eating you out. Spencer was a multi-tasker, so with his free hand, he pushed your body to the side so you could read his idea. You had turned over so you were on your stomach now and you could feel your heartbeat in your clitoris. Spencer did the same thing and went underneath you now, so you were sitting on his face. “Come here, pretty girl.” He said and held onto the back of your thighs while he began to eat you out again. This pleasure was something you had never experienced. You grinded down on his tongue from this new position and felt your wetness drip onto his face. Spencer brought one hand up to your ass and slapped it roughly. The sting made you moan louder, and press your pussy more into his mouth. You felt like you could sit on Spencer Reid’s face for the rest of the night.

As you came very close to your orgasm, Spencer sucked on your clit and his tongue did not lose contact. He wanted you to cum in his mouth and drip onto his pretty lips. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum!” You repeated as your orgasm bubbled up. When the wave of pleasure ran over you, you moaned loudly, cursing, saying his name, anything that came into your head at the moment. Spencer didn’t stop his actions, wanting you to ride it through the whole time. When you had finished and attempted to catch your breath, Spencer turned over to look at you. Your cheeks were flushed and your lips were pink. Laying now on your back, Spencer hovered over you and looked down at you, pushing some hair from your face. “Want to see how good you taste?” His voice deep as he propped himself up with his arm behind you. You simply nodded and placed your hand behind his neck, eager to feel his lips again. You two kissed for a moment before he separated your lips.

Your eyes trailed down to his groin, where you could see his bulge peaking through his pants. “I want to feel you cum inside of me, Doctor.” It always drove him crazy when you called him that, and in the impregnation kink inside of him was running wild.

Spencer took off his clothes, including his boxers, and now the two of you were naked. He took a hold of his length and used his tip to rub it against your clit. “Fuck.” He groaned, feeling your wetness onto him. Your body was ready for round two, and Spencer was eager to be inside of you. Once he slipped himself inside of you, he felt like he was in a trance. You had never been with a man whose size felt like it could stretch you out. “You’re so tight.” Spencer muttered as he picked up your leg to hold it onto his thigh. You let out a moan and held onto his bicep as he began to find a rhythm that felt good for him and could hit you in the right spots. “Feels like you’re in my stomach.” You giggled then whimpered right afterward. Spencer moaned from your words only and leaned down to start kissing your chest and biting the skin around it. Your other hand held his hair as he did so, wrapping your other leg around his waist to feel him deeper.

Spencer started to pick up his pace and the sound of your sex and the headboard echoed in the room. “Harder.” You moaned out, your back arching off the bed. Spencer delivered just that to you, picking up his pace and the rhythm that he had. “So so good.” He mumbled against your lips as he attached them to yours again to share a sloppy kiss. He was getting closer in just minutes of you two sharing sex, it was like your bodies were speaking to each other.

“I’m close.” He muttered, getting ready to pull his cock out of you so he could finish somewhere else. “No.” You whimpered, looking up at him, and squeezed his bicep. “It’s okay, I’m on birth control.” You panted, your body immediately missing the connection of his. “It’s only 91% effective most of the time.”

“Spencer, I’ve never missed a day.” You said and combed his hair back with your fingers. He nodded and leaned back down, inserting himself back inside of you. Spencer never had unprotected sex before, but it felt so damn good. His cock was all the way inside of you, and both of your orgasms were due any minute. You thought it was only a thing that happened in pornography when the man and woman both had cum at the same time, but it was about to happen with you and Spencer.

“Spencer.” You immediately moaned out as your body started to feel euphoric with your second orgasm. You both kept your eye contact and in the heat of the moment, he slid his hand up to your neck. Fuck fuck fuck. Spencer Reid was going to be the first man to make you feel this way about a partner. “Y/N, baby.” He moaned as his orgasm approached and felt himself cum inside of you. He tried his best to keep the rhythm steady through it, but it was a little sloppy, but still oh so good. He stayed inside of you for a moment while you both caught your breath. You were going to miss this. Miss seeing his face, hearing his voice, kissing his sweet lips. Everything about Spencer Reid would haunt you for the rest of your life.

That’s why it was so hard to sit in front of him right now. Your wrists hurt from the handcuffs that you had been residing in and the chair was uncomfortable. Spencer sat across from you, his eyes different than normal. He had a file in front of himself, looking down at your mugshot and ID photo. You had gotten sloppy, and it took one night with Spencer Reid for that to happen.

It was easy with Aaron Hotchner. Of course, the new BAU’s communication liaison staying with the head of the team was nothing suspicious. You remembered, showing him a little leg, a little chest, and everything fell into place. You were riding his cock before you knew it, and tugging onto his tie. He liked being called ‘daddy’, which you didn’t mind at all. You slept with him twice, the first time in his office, the second time he came over for drinks at your place. He enjoyed watching you masturbate with your toy and doing so in his lap. It was kinda hot, sleeping with an older man. It’s what made your act so good.

Then there was Emily Prentiss. The first woman you slept with. It was on a case, and you two needed to double up in the hotel. You came out of the bathroom with a t-shirt and visible lace panties. You sat with her on the bed and talked until the conversation turned into a sexual topic. Emily Prentiss made you cum 3 times. The next morning, you showered together and kissed until both of you just had to cum one more time. She knew exactly where to pleasure you, and it was so good you considered getting a tattoo of her name.

You had a plan, it was a great plan. Till too many times with Spencer Reid, and your guard came down. You trusted him too much. It all started to become too heavy on you, and the feelings became real. You wish you would’ve thought a different plan, a way you could’ve kept your secret and continued to be with Spencer.

How was the media going to respond with the BAU’s new communication liaison was the unsub of a case that went cold last year? Your goal was to get the trust of the team, manipulate them with your body so they would never suspect anything, and you could keep doing what you had been.

It was extremely difficult for Spencer to look at you right now, he wanted to cry or scream at you, but he had to keep his composure. “You’re looking at 25 years to life here for your crimes. Possibly the chance of life without parole.” He said, crossing his hands together and leaning on the table. “Now, I suggest you corporate with everything we say and we will see if there is a chance you’ll ever get out of here, do I make myself clear?”

“Spencer-“

“Do I make myself clear, Miss. Y/L/N?” Spencer repeated himself again, not wanting you to bring his guard down. It pained him to see you on the opposite side of the table and not next to him, but he couldn’t tell you that.

“I bought you that.”

“What?”

“Your necklace. You’re still wearing it. You still want to hold onto a piece of me that you can’t have so you wear something that makes you feel like you have control over me still.” You said and quickly glanced at the chain on his neck. You knew it was the gold switchblade that he wore.

Spencer knew your profiling skills against him were true. It brought a part of his emotions back, even though his team advice him not to let it happen. “Why did you do this, Y/N?” His voice was quiet, sadden, confused. “Why did you kill all of those people.”

“I-I don’t know, they were horrible men, Spencer. I did what I had to. I’ll write to you, I promise.”

You saw Hotchner walk into the room, wanting to switch with Spencer since his emotions were starting to struggle. You smirked at the man in charge then returned your gaze back at Spencer when he got up from his seat. He had to turn his back to you as he began walking to leave the interrogation room.

“Dr. Reid?” You called to him one last time, his body turning to you while his hand was on the doorknob. With a smile on your face, you pressed a kiss to your fingertips and sent him a little wave goodbye.

“You were always my favorite.”

[darkdevasofdestruction]

Take My Hand ~ Lucifer x Reader

For so many, even those who know him, Lucifer is an enigmatic riddle that will never be solved. A question with no answer. A blank, white puzzle.  He keeps his stoic facade at all times, overworks himself on anything Diavolo gives him, and if he runs out of work, he finds more, from somewhere that nobody, even the young Prince, has no idea.

He’s always so strict and proper, dresses royal and there is seemingly no imperfection to him. Hell, even Asmo, the most narcissistic brother, is not-so-secretly jealous of his beauty and dominant and mysterious aura that engulfs him, that makes him even more enticing than one could think.

So what is the mysterious of this overly strict Fallen, the one that God loved the most, the one that led the Rebellion of the Celestial War aeons ago, actually hiding? What emotions is he so desperately trying to hide behind those sharp, ruby eyes of him that read into you like infrared?

What kind of fragility is trying to hide being that frozen block that became his heart that aches and burns harder than the Sun itself?

Perhaps that is something that only someone with a fresh perspective shall witness, someone who walks around like a ghost, unnoticeable, yet her eyes are wide and attentive, that can peer right into the depths of anyone’s soul.

They are complete opposites, and yet, they are more alike than anyone could even begin to realise - That is, if they are so adamant to be ignorant, as they’ve always been.

Apart from Solomon, not one, but two other humans were brought into Devildom, and that is because fate made it so that Lucifer chose a girl that had a sister.

A twin sister.

So of course, you cannot separate twins, so Diavolo was okay with bringing both of them, thinking it would be reminiscent of the 6th and 7th brothers, especially for their personalities are like light and day, like the Sun and the Moon, both of them beautiful, yet completely different.

And that was quickly made obvious once they arrived, for the brothers quickly swamped all over the younger sister, since she was a lovable, social butterfly, an extroverted free soul who loves to fool around and bend the rules to breaking point.

The older sister, however, was an introvert of few words, yet all of them were meaningful. She was incredibly diligent and hard-working, studying since the first day in RAD, she was much too busy to even bother going out of her way to break the rules, and had to do everything in her power to get her sister out of trouble, including doing her homework, to avoid detention.

The eldest brother, the most attentive, was quick to realise that all the brothers were attracted to the sunshine like moths to the fire that they didn’t even bother approaching the zircon wrapped in a velvet handkerchief.

He was, however, completely drawn to her...Or maybe it was the mystery surrounding her that he was interested in? He read once, in a human book, that the most intriguing is the journey, not the destination, yet he couldn’t help but wonder if it was similar to going to one’s soul.

Y/N’s soul was pure, it was bright, it was beautiful and tempting, which went in complete anti-thesis with the facade she pulled for everyone - And just like twins are, like Yin and Yang, she was truly the complete opposite of her bright sister that held a dark soul.

But days began to rapidly pass by, and with each day, countless of problematic events happened, that made Lucifer, and not only him, pissed off beyond belief, at the younger sister, and the older one was forced to bare the consequences and solve the problem..

These continuous occurrences started eroding her soul, bit by bit, darkening it, overshadowing her light, and it was beginning to concern the raven haired man, for, in the end, it was still his job to make sure the humans are okay and comfortable in Diavolo’s Kingdom.

Exams were coming along, and Lucifer could see Y/N was beginning to become much paler and less talkative. He didn’t see her as often outside of the classroom, and even to meals that they would always share together...And he began to worry.

He knows very well that humans are very frail, weak and sensitive creatures, that constantly needed to be taken care of, and he knew very well that she wouldn’t have much until she’d collapse.

“Does anyone have a pen, please? All of mine have been completely used up, and I need to urgently finish an assignment.” 

Speak of the devil, Lucifer thought, as his D.D.D.’s notification sound popped on his study desk, where he, himself, was also working on his own assignments, and he chuckled at the coincidence, and pondered over if he should tease her a bit, to provoke her, or not.

Something that Lucifer always loved was to push someone’s boundaries...Not some pushover like Mammon, clearly, but strong, dominating people, much like Satan, much like himself. He wanted to see how far can he push someone until they get angry, until they lose their composure, until they show their true face, until their facade crumbles, and they are no longer the self they show to everyone.

It’s satisfying seeing others step on their pride...

Since he would never do that, clearly. He isn’t the Avatar of Pride for nothing.

Asmo: Nope! I only have my personalised, engraved pen, and I can’t give it to everyone! Beel: Sorry, I accidentally ate all my pens while trying to write my homework. Belphie is sleeping. Levi: I don’t have pens, I write everything on my laptop. Satan: I always misplace mine. I only have the one I keep in my notebook. Mammon: Lol, you’re doing homework? Hah, what a dork! Sorry, I ain’t using Goldie to buy pens! Why not ask your sister? Anyka: You bought 10 pens barely 2 weeks ago, how the hell did you even finish them? Y/N: I have a lot to do. Do you have any spare pens? Anyka: Lol nope x Ask Lucifer or idk Barbatos??

The opportunity is shining, so...Should he start provoking her? Or would that break her even more? This should certainly be interesting... And if anything happens, he always knows when to put a stop to this charade. “I have a spare fountain pen, if it would do.” he sent her a DM, waiting for an answer. “Perfect. Are you in your study, or your bedroom?” she sent an immediate answer, which made him smirk. “Study. If you beg me nicely, I can also give you the ink for it.” he was playing with fire, and damn, was it exhilarating. “You...Want me to...Beg? For a pen and ink? To do my assignments? I don’t think Diavolo would be pleased to hear that.” she typed after an obvious few moments of hesitation. “Sometimes compromises must be made in order to achieve your goal. You are aware, I am sure, that if you do not finish your homework for tomorrow, you will receive detention.” this was getting very interesting, and he couldn’t wait to see what her next step would be. “Fine. I will ask Barbatos then. Thanks for the offer. Have a pleasant night.” she cut him off with clear acid in her words, which made Lucifer chuckle in satisfaction.

She was though, and entertaining. What an adorable little lamb.

And it was true, she asked Barbatos, who told her that he couldn’t go over to the House of Lamentation, for he has to take care of Diavolo, and he refused to allow her to leave the dorms without someone by her side to make sure no stray demon attacks her.

That was a true bummer.

So...She had to step on her pride to get a stupid pen to finish her assignments.  It wasn’t even homework, but she still had hours of work she had to do. It was barely midnight, she couldn’t even attempt to go sleep now.

Going to sleep means obvious overthinking, which means lack of sleep, so better be productive and work, then destroy yourself more than you already are, doing nothing, while staring and cursing the ceiling.

Y/N sighed, breaking the pen in two out of anger, and wobbly got out of her study chair, making a bee line to Lucifer’s study and knocking on the door, waiting to hear the approval word to enter the room. She barely opened the door, walking in front of the seated form of Lucifer, who held his spare fountain pen almost mockingly in front of her.

He was watching her like a hawk, every movement analysed as if under a microscope, almost as if he was carefully searching for any flaw or mistake she would make. However, he could see she wasn’t well. She was sleep deprived, her complexion was much paler than normal, she had dark bags under her eyes...And her posture was slouched, almost sloppy. Lucifer knew she has always been a diligent person, so the homework couldn’t possibly be long overdue. She would have done it in the day it was given. So...What was the urgency? Could it be that...She was...Just like him?

“I’m not sure how I’m supposed to beg for a pen, but, Lucifer, may I please borrow your pen? I promise to return it to you tomorrow, buy a new ink, to your preference, as soon as classes are over and I can go to proper shopping.” her voice was tired, just like her mind and body. She held no emotions in her words. It was almost as if she was intentionally damaging herself to make up for-

Oh.

Perhaps she wasn’t as different from him as he thought she was, and now, at least, he can better understand why she was deteriorating as fast as she was.

“You can keep it, I don’t mind. However, as the head of the student council, and the one who has to overlook this exchange program, I would have to advise you to take better care of yourself and rest, instead of overworking yourself.” Lucifer told her, with a less condescending voice, only to receive a sarcastic scoff, which confused him. “Tell me that when you’re going to follow your own advice.” and she left.

A chuckle escaped his mouth as soon as the door was closed, and for the first time in ages, he actually went to bed early...For his standards. He had to be very attentive of this one, however...She was much more interesting than he believed.

And the first thing he saw in the morning, as he stepped in the classroom, he saw Y/N handing a file to her sister - A file with all the homework for the whole week, that is - And now he could understand why she was overworked. She was going about life in all the wrong ways...Not that he should be one to talk. He knows his own faults, but admitting them to another is a complete different matter.

But things were going to take a horrid turn for the worst, beginning with Diavolo calling everyone for the Student Council meeting, only to announce that the exchange students were going to have a lowered pass/fail line anymore, but will have to work and achieve the demons’ standards and rise to the challenge given.

“If you’re going to control a demon’s powers, you need to have a proper understanding of them and how they should be used.” Diavolo said, which made him realise that the twins, somehow, managed to make pacts with all of the brothers...All of them, sans one. That one being himself, of course. “Hey, whoa, that’s a bit sudden, don’t you think? Exams are just around the corner!” Anyka protested, obviously shocked. “RAD exams are surprisingly tough.” Belphie nodded in agreement. “I’m sure both of you are going to do great, especially if you’ve studied a little bit throughout the semester.” Diavolo smiled, as usual, and the older twin mimicked no emotion on her face. “But...! But I haven’t! I had fun with the brothers all this time...What am I gonna do?! Y/N, say something!” the younger twin shook her sister, waking her up from her trance. “Hmm...? What should I say? He’s right.” she shrugged, not bothering to look at anyone. “I’ve already considered that, and I have a plan. Satan, you are going to be tutoring Y/N and Anyka up until the day of exams.” Lucifer dumped the responsibility on the blond brother, who was barely able to say anything from the shock of being put on the spot. “Oh, that’s perfect! Thank you soooo much, Satan! You’re the best!” Anyka jumped on the 4th born, who chuckled awkwardly. “Thanks, but I can do this by myself. If this was all, then I’m going to see you during the exams. Bye.” she gave a brief peace sign, before leaving to her room, no doubt continuing her studying.

Obviously, Lucifer knew she had it in the bag if she focused. She’s a smart girl, she won’t have any problem...If she stays healthy, that is.  There was something about her that made him want to approach her, to hold her face, to look her in the eyes and tell her to stop doing this to herself. There was something about her innocence and heart that made him want to protect her at all cost, even if that meant protecting her from herself. He pondered offering to tutor her, but what could he even tutor her about, when she clearly knows everything there needs to be learnt about the exams?

He wanted to kiss her hands and reassure her that everything will be okay, and he wanted to hold her tight and help her fall asleep without having running thoughts through her head all the time.

But he can’t do that, can he? If he were to approach her, she’d run away, like a scared little baby fawn trying to find her mama, while being chased off by a hunter. He had to be gentle with her, delicate, to lure her into a sense of security and safety...A warm haven by his side...

But can he really manage to do that, when he’s supposed to be the Big Bad Scary Wolf who punishes everyone and doesn’t allow happiness in the dorms, as per so gracefully described by his lovely brothers?

The first day of the exams came much faster than Y/N realised - She had no idea how time flew by so fast, it felt like she just blinked and bam, exam days - So here she was, drinking her 3rd coffee for the morning while writing her answers for the exam.

Caladrius Blood was the third ingredient for that famous ancient elixir that required Powdered unicorn hood and bittergrass root, for the Magical Potions exam from that morning...

A forest, what covered the surface of Devildom shortly after it came into existence, the answer for the History exam from the afternoon...And a three-legged crow being the relief sculpture at the entrance to the Devildom royal tomb...

Yes, these were all incredibly easy questions, she had no problem, clearly. And that was the same for the 2nd day, with the hexes and curses... And then came the practical exam...Seductive Speechcraft test.

She looked around the classroom with a frown, knowing she had to pair up with someone, but all the brothers were crowding around her sister, and she could only sigh, looking down with her arms crossed, not knowing what to do.

“Would you like to pair up with me, Y/N?” Lucifer’s voice rang soothingly in her ear, making her turn around, her eyebrow raised in confusion. “You...Want to pair up...With me?” she asked in a slow, unsure voice, which made him smile and nod. “Yes, is something wrong with that?” he bent down slightly, getting closer to her face. “No, of course not. I was just...Surprised that anyone wanted to pair up with me. Anyway, we should get started.” she nodded, looking away from him and guiding him to a more secluded part of the classroom. “You have to be the one doing the seducing. I am really curious how you are going to proceed. Could you, perhaps, be...Scared?” with his infamous smirk, he looked smugly at how her otherwise unfaltering facade began to break slightly. “No...It’s just...If I knew I was going to be the one doing the seducing, I would have put on some make up this morning, so I wouldn’t look like I just woke up from death after being buried for 100 years...No, make that 1000 years.” she corrected herself after taking a quick look at her reflection on her D.D.D. “I can assure you, your appearance, for us, demons, won’t change a thing. It’s the words and gestures that matter.” he let out a soft chuckle, watching her nod in acknowledgement. “Okay, if you say so, then I will have to believe you. Can you promise me that you won’t attempt to kill me...Again...No matter what I say or do? Trust me, I want top grades, and I’m going to do anything in my power to snatch them.” her voice now was much firmer, and it sounded clearer, more confident. It was clear that her pride and ambition were on the line, and he wanted to see how she was going to seduce him. He could feel electricity running through his veins from the excitement. “Yes, of course. I won’t do anything to you. In fact, I will be the human, and you will be the demon. You have all the power now. Amaze me, Y/N.” he watched her turn to the side slightly, as if preparing her A-Game face - He was expecting her to try out an impersonation of a succubus, since they were plenty in Devildom, but what she did...Was beyond Lucifer’s power of comprehension.

Her eyes held a glimmer of innocence and pity, her soul somehow seemed to glow with purity and light, just like it was when she first arrived. Her demeanour wasn’t assertive, confident and mysterious, but held a tint of submissiveness and glowing affection, as if she wanted to touch him, but she was too afraid to approach a deity.

He thought that, as he gazed with interest at the girl in front of him, only to be shocked completely by how sweetly alluring her voice could sound, and he almost felt the need to have her cup his face so he could melt into her warm, soothing caress.

“Lucifer...Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately? Have you noticed how your health is starting to decline? I know you are a demon, and a few hours cut off your usual sleeping schedule won’t mean much for you, but you are exhausted, Lucifer. I hate seeing you like that...Overworking yourself...Finding more work to get piled under, even if you’ve already finished your assignments. I worry about you, and your health...But more...I worry about the reasons for your overworking. I know you’re trying so hard to keep away all the intrusive thoughts that keep plaguing your mind...You think that working to exhaustion is going to keep your mind busy, so you’ll sleep without having to overthink.” hearing those words, Lucifer truly wondered if she had veela or succubus genes in her family, or if her tongue was laced with the sweetest poison there is. She slowly approach him, gingerly holding both of his hands, looking down, imitating a timid kitten, and guiding him to the nearest chair behind him, so she could be at his height...Just a little above, creating the perfect angle to change from a submissive expression, to a more dominating, seductive gaze.

“You’re always so concerned about your brothers, wanting to make sure everything goes perfectly, to the plans that you create, because if things go out of control, you are afraid they will have to suffer...Just like it happened when you led the Rebellion. You still feel guilty for what happened. You are afraid that they regret following you...And so, you are purposely hurting yourself...And this self-inflicted pain became your own sense of comfort and defense. You are afraid that, if somehow, you indulge in your pleasure and the pain disappears, things are going to go out of control completely. You are afraid of the unknown and what it could bring...But trust me, Lucifer...I promise you...They love you. They love you, just as much as you love them. They don’t regret following you. You are a family, and they are happy and content staying together, all 7 of you, together. You deserve to be happy too, Lucifer. You deserve to allow yourself a day off from all this mess, and indulge in your pleasures.” she was so close to him, whispering in his ear, then crouching down, holding his hands, keeping them together and kissing them softly, sending shivers down his spine...But more, he froze completely on the spot. He was shocked...His mind was almost completely blank...Because...How could she possibly know all of this? How can she speak like that? She’s just a human...So...How...? Surely, his brothers had no idea, so how could she, a mere human who came by less than an year ago, understand and know him so well? His heart was beating fast, and it was in pain. It was expecting...It was conflicting everything he ever stood for. A day off? A day for himself? A day of self-care? A day...With her...?

“Won’t you allow me to take away the pain, just for the night? Allow yourself to feel something else other than pain and misery. Allow yourself to be happy. To feel emotional pleasure. Allow yourself to be yourself again, only for a night, because Lucifer, you are not a robot, or a machine, you are not programmed, wired, or running or petrol or gasoline. You have a beautiful heart that feels so much, but you are afraid of the myriad of unknown emotions that are desperately trying to burst out and scream at you to let loose...Because you can. You showed me that you are capable of letting loose, when we were stuck in Levi’s game. Do you remember, Lucifer? We were up on the roof, you had your hair in my lap, and I stroked it gently...You were smiling so beautifully...So carefree...Because you had no worries on your mind or heart. You were yourself. And you were happy.” she put her forehead to his, speaking softly, barely above a whisper, but despite her tone, her words spoke loudly, strongly, into his heart, making it pump faster and faster, energy shooting through his every nerve, vein, artery and capillary...His mind was completely captivated, and his heart was captured. Without even realising, his lips were parted and his eyes were wide from the shock, imagining himself in this utopic paradise that she created merely with her words.

“All you have to do is take my hand and follow me. It’s simple. You can do it, Lucifer. Let yourself feel. Let yourself be...What do you say?” she was perfect. She didn’t break her act for not even a split second. The sparkle in her eyes was there from the beginning to the end, and he could feel her fast-beating heart - It was regular for her, as she had the heart rate of a rabbit - It almost seemed natural for her to persuade and sweet-talk anyone like that. Without even realising it himself, he took her hand, looking at her eyes with an expression of wonder, awe and complete fascination...Until she gave him a devilish smirk, and her eyes started glinting with mischief, which made him frown slightly in confusion.

“I won.” was the last thing she said to him before pulling away from him completely, retorting to her bland and pained, exhausted demeanour. “If I made even Lucifer look at me with glazed eyes and made him take my hand, to take him to some dreamland oasis, then I’m sure I deserve the highest mark in the class.” she chuckled with a deadpan expression on her face, not looking at him. “How...Did you do that?” he asked in a low voice, almost not believing what just happend. “Oh, that was possibly the easiest thing I’ve ever done in a long while. You see...I hold great pride in being incredibly intuitive, perceptive, detail-oriented and being able to properly read people...And their hearts. If I had Asmo, I would have told him that he has an amazing personality, and he’s not just all-looks. If it was Mammon, I’d have showered him with praises. If it was Beel, I would have played the family, Lilith and guilt card...And the list goes on. If you, however, are asking how I managed to say all the right words to you...Well...It’s a bit different...And personal.” she spoke, looking at the teacher with a half-smirk as she was given the highest mark, and rightfully so. “What could be so personal that you managed to speak to me as if you are some ancient demon who has been luring people for aeons with her sweet words laced with acid?” he stood up, looking down at her with a stern expression, yet his mind and heart were fighting a war of conflict. “...I told you everything I would have liked someone to tell me all this time.” the raven haired man could see sadness clouding her face, before leaving to her room.

That was a true experience for Lucifer, he couldn’t deny that to himself, and more, for the whole day, no matter how much he tried to work - Her words kept haunting him, and as soon as he picked up the pen, he immediately thought back at the exam and threw it back on the desk.

He tried taking a hot bath, tried listening to that TSL soundtrack, but she was the one to give it to her, after she spent a fortune on Akuzon for his birthday present, but of course, he thought back at her, and he had to stop the music altogether.

Everything he did, he was reminded of those words that held the flavour of the Poison Apples he eats so often, and it was driving him insane. He could feel his brain overheating, and the pressure on his chest was so great that he wanted to dig his nails into his chest and rip apart the flesh, take out the heart and stomp on his heart, because he couldn’t take it anymore.  He was a demon, and he was a heavy sinner - He NEEDED to grab her hand and escape the horror of reality. He needed to feel that he wasn’t bound by space, nor time, a body or a brain - He needed to be just one soul, bound to another, to feel no more pain, no more reality - Only euphoria, content, happiness, pleasure.

He couldn’t believe he was so willing to give in to his desires, and it was only because of her. It was HER fault. And yet, her last words before her departure from the classroom kept echoing constantly - 

“I told you everything I would have liked someone to tell me all this time.”

He was right all along.

She truly was like him. She was the only one who could properly understand him, and likewise, he was the only one who could take her pain away.  Maybe it was his guardian-complex, having to constantly look after someone, needing to be useful to someone... He needed her, as much as she needed him... Because, unlike him, she could easily waste away, as she is nothing more than a human resembling the first Snowdrop in Spring. He could resist until the end of this world, just as he has done until now, but she couldn’t.

The endless train of thoughts was interrupted by yet another knock on his door, that proved to be the same person that plagued his mind - The little lamb walked into the wolf’s den, almost as if summoned, out of her own accord.

To bring him back his fountain pen, along with the promised high-quality ink...It made him chuckle at how adorable and thoughtful she was being, without realising.

“...You are troubled by something. Do you...Want to talk about it...Or should I leave you alone? I did say some pretty heavy words today, I understand if you wouldn’t want to stay in the same room as me for a while.” she gingerly put the items on his study, not looking up at him. “How come you never looked me in the eyes until then?” he asked, looking at her from the office chair. “I...Was never able to look anyone in the eyes, in my life. Now even my sister or my mother. It makes me start panicking...I get intimidated and scared...So I look away. I forced myself to behave the way I was supposed to, but it was the last thing from comfortable. Don’t take it personal.” she chuckled awkwardly, stepping back. “I was surprised that your words had such an impact that I was ready to follow you...But would you follow me? Would you be able to do the very thing that you told me just today? Would you be willing to strip away that facade of yours, take care of yourself, and allow your heart to feel again?” he asked, stepping slowly in front of her, almost resembling a predator prowling to its prey. “...I don’t want to break down and cry, because if I do...Things will only go downhill, very fast and very hard. I’m...Usually on a downward spiral, but when the wave hits...It takes a long time to swim back to the surface...And I’m sure for how many more times will I have the strength to move and breathe.” she muttered, shuffling on her feet, and Lucifer could understand very well. He could see how frail she has become, and it was all because her brain was working against her so heavily, for whatever reason that was eroding her so badly. “If you promise to stay by my side, I will be here to hold your hand and pull you out of the stormy tides. I will walk next to you for your whole journey, until you get tired of me. You just have to take my hand and let yourself be...Let yourself feel. Let out all the pent up emotions, then smile at me, because you have a beautiful smile, and I haven’t seen it in ages. I know you are afraid...It is frightening walking alone, in the dark, with so many monsters around you, ready to gnaw and maul at you...By I will be there, waiting for you, guiding you with a flashlight, ready to hold and protect you...So...What will you do, Y/N? Do you seek salvation and happiness, or are you ready to give up on yourself and want to succumb to the bottomless pit of the abyssal ocean you were thrown into.” he mimicked the way she talked, the way she moved, the way she articulated her words, as he took his gloves off, touching her face and softly caressing it, bending slightly to peer into her eyes.

He could see that she was afraid - She was beginning to tremble, her eyes were glossy, brimming with tears, her bottom lip was quivering and the conflict of good and evil was obvious inside of her - Her hands were in the air, ready, but not entirely, to grab his hands...

“All you have to do is take my hand and follow me. It’s simple. You can do it, Y/N. Let yourself feel. Let yourself be...What do you say?” he mimicked her own words, wanting to see if it would be enough of a push for her 

Choosing was truly a mortifying experience, but she was strong, he knew that - And that was made obvious when her shoulders finally started shaking, her breath becoming ragged....

And she threw her arms around his torso, letting rivers and rivers of tears fall down her already exhausted face. Her body was so small compared to his, so small...And so cold, in his warm arms...He couldn’t help but hold her tighter, stroking her hair soothingly, putting a kiss on the top of her head.

“Please take care of me, I don’t know how much longer I can do this. I-I don’t want to leech off of you...I’ve always been everyone’s therapist...And I know how much it sucks...B-But you’re the only one who ever bothered to show me any kindness and understanding. Please, Lucifer, don’t let me drown...I’m so tired of swimming...I can’t go on.” her sobs were so pitiful and broken that it shattered his heart and resolve, and all he could do was guide her to the bed, knowing she was too weak to sit up for too long, and started rocking her gently, as he would do with his brothers long ago, in the Celestial Realm, whenever they were upset or had a nightmare.

“Don’t worry, Y/N, I’m here, and I’m not going away until you tell me to. You won’t drown...You grabbed the lifeline the second you took my hand, and I’m going to make sure you keep floating above the sheen of the water and have no problem breathing.” he reassured her, knowing very well how hopeless it feels being in that situation...But now they could at least cling onto each other for help, support, love brightness.

“How...? How did you know everything...?” she asked, clutching on his shirt, almost as if the harder she pulled, the better the chances of survival. “Because the very words you told me are what you needed to hear the most.”

[airgetlamhh]

Thoughts on Lostbelt 2

Longpost ahead.

So.

Lostbelt 2. Finally played it after so long, and this will contain spoilers.

To make sure everyone knows what they’re getting into, I’ll give the thesis statement right here: Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

The entire time I played through the story, I kept waiting for it to pick up. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor pacing, the deus ex machinas, the random things just happening for the convenience of the plot. I kept waiting for it to shrug off the poor characterization, the constant telling instead of showing, the moral myopia. It never did. 

From nearly the very start to finish, Lostbelt 2 is bad. 

We start off fairly fine! A desperate ploy to sneak through the Lostbelt to meet up with the allies we’ve learned about, the Wandering Sea, interrupted by a Lostbelt Servant attacking us with the intent of stealing the Paper Moon that allows us to perform Zero Sails. All of that is a decent setup!

And then we’re told how strong this Saber is. How incredible they are. How their swordplay surpasses anything else they’ve ever seen, how they desperately wish that Musashi was there, how no no, he didn’t use his sword, he only parried! Things that Sherlock Holmes observes, not Mashu, not the one who’s actually been fighting for two years now, so Mashu seems borderline useless. Holmes figures out it’s Sigurd because...he uses a sword in a Scandinavian Lostbelt, and he figured out that Holmes used magic because Holmes fire magic lasers at him. From this, Holmes is able to pinpoint Sigurd’s identity, and that’s just the setup for the rest of the chapter, really. 

To be specific, what I mean is that we will constantly be told how incredible someone is with very little evidence, and the plot will bend and warp to make certain things happen. 

The scene does exactly one good thing, which is the foreshadowing of Surtr. Coming into it knowing that aspect allowed me to appreciate little bits like Surtr talking about Heroic Spirits like he wasn’t one, and Surtr not being able to kill Mashu because Sigurd resisted it. But that’s about all that was good in the scene, and all it really does is set up a consistent thing of Surtr being one of the only good parts - until he isn’t, of course.

I’m going to shift here from specifics to characters, because otherwise I’d be rehashing the entire story and I don’t have the time or effort required for that. That being said, it is difficult to decide where to start, so I’ll go right to the very building blocks of the story, the themes. 

Lostbelt 2 is, very obviously, attempting to have a theme of different kinds of love throughout the story. Part of this is because it’s very much set up like an otome game that the author Hikaru Sakurai would write, with Ophelia in the center, but it’s a more general theme too, with Skadi and the others all building up towards it. Now, love is an absolutely wonderful thing to build your themes around, exploring and examining it can be great for stories. Beasts themselves do that, examining different varieties of genuine, but toxic love that allow them to be well-meaning monsters.

The problem is that Lostbelt 2 does not engage with these themes on anything but a surface level. Skadi represents maternal love, so she constantly talks about how everyone is her children and how she’s their mother. No examination of the desire to see her children grow, the pain she feels when they fight, the struggle of forcing herself to cling so tightly knowing that it’s suffocating them and going to kill them before they reach 26. 

Napoleon represents passionate love, so he flirts with every woman he sees. No examination of why he’s so passionate or what drives him to burn so brightly, beyond a token mention that for some reason when he’s summoned he’s driven to seek out a lover, another aspect of things happening to serve the plot. 

Sigurd and Brynhildr represent true, romantic love, so they act mushy the entire chapter from the moment the real Sigurd appears. Now, don’t get me wrong, I liked their scenes a lot and I’m happy that they chose that portrayal instead of the one I was afraid of where it was yandere jokes day in day out. But there’s no engagement with the fundamentals of their love, nothing that tests it, even the existing complications with Brynhildr’s tragic summoning are swept away with a single line of “I can resist them better now maybe because my saint graph is broken”, so ultimately there’s no conflict whatsoever. And sure, that’s nice, but it’s not very good if you’re trying to build your story around a theme of love. 

Next, Surtr, who represents obsessive, dangerous love. I honestly actually think Surtr’s done well, even if the love he happens to represent is the least positive one. Surtr is capable of only one thing, destruction, and when he fell for Ophelia in that moment where she saw him and he saw her, he decided that if he ever had the chance, he would repay her the only way he knew how: allowing her to watch as he destroyed everything. When he’s summoned, he acts basically like the possessive one in an otome game, constantly talking about how Ophelia is his woman, getting angry when Napoleon flirts with her, spending most of his time pushing things between them as far as they can go etc. etc. I’m not particularly a fan of how his desire to repay Ophelia battling against his singular purpose transformed him into a typical possessive bastard boyfriend, but it’s at least engaged with on a deeper level.

Finally, Ophelia. She’s the otome game protagonist here, born into an controlling family and finally freed, hiding a secret special power, beloved by almost all the men involved in the chapter while she’s harboring feelings for someone else, even has the typical friendship route with Mashu going on. Her love is a love that she doesn’t acknowledge, but that’s all it is. It’s never engaged with beyond the fact that she clearly loves Kirschtaria but insists she doesn’t, and her final scene as she dies is Mashu telling her that yes, she did love Kirschtaria. That’s all. 

For a theme of love that’s supposedly woven into the Lostbelt, it’s barely examined at all. It’s not well written, and in comparison to Lostbelt 1′s theme of what it means to live in a world where the strong devour the weak and how deeply it examined and engaged with that, it’s a genuine disappointment.

Now, to move onto the plot, it’s...in the abstract, it’s fine. Chaldea is intercepted and forced to fight in the Lostbelt and ends up dragged into the overarching ploy by Surtr to release himself and burn everything. That’s a perfectly fine story, but the problem is that when you get to the moment-to-moment stuff, it falls apart completely. 

Skadi is constantly talked up as this incredibly powerful true goddess, not merely a Divine Spirit, and we know she can see and hear our every move because of her snow. How does the story work around this borderline omniscience within her Lostbelt? Skadi just decides not to do anything about Chaldea with zero rhyme or reason. We need to sneak into the palace and avoid alerting the guards, except Skadi already knows exactly where we are, except that doesn’t matter because we need to sneak in for some reason. We get captured with no plan to escape, and it just so happens that not only was Skadi keeping a Divine Spirit amalgamation locked in the dungeons too, but that she can piggyback on you making a contract with Napoleon (pure dumb luck you hadn’t done it before) and force a connection with you too, and then cast spells to hide you while you escape. Skadi knows we’re trying to free Brynhildr, who is the sole threat to Sigurd and Skadi’s own Valkyries in the entire Lostbelt? She just decides to do nothing at all. 

So much of the plot happens because either Skadi makes terrible decisions to do nothing, even though she knows Chaldea is there to destroy her entire world, or it happens because random shit goes on that couldn’t have been planned for like Sitonai. Shit like Surtr suddenly becoming Fafnir and being able to use the Evil Dragon Phenomenon to brainwash Ophelia somehow, like Ophelia’s Mystic Eye being able to do anything the plot demands, even when it explicitly goes against its existing capabilities like rewinding time on Sigurd’s wounds, like Bryn and Surtr somehow being able to resist the effects of her eye with no buildup or explanation. It’s poorly written in terms of the exact events that happen, and that all culminates in Skadi’s one cool moment, where she declares she’s going to kill the seven billion we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand...and then right after, it reveals that Skadi was going easy on us and refused to use her runes of instant death for no reason even though she was fighting for the survival of her entire world. The moment to moment plot is not good, and neither is what comes next, the worldbuilding.

In Skadi’s Lostbelt, half the world is covered in Surtr’s flames, while the other half is blanketed in Skadi’s snow. Where the two areas meet are the only places where life can grow, and so Skadi set up villages there. Unfortunately, there isn’t enough food for everyone, so she enforces strict population control: if you are not the mother or father of a child by 15, you are sent away to be killed by the giants. If you are the mother or father of a child, you are sent away to be killed at 25 instead. Through this tragic method, Skadi enforces a limit of 100 villages with 100 people, a total population of 10000. This is all fine. 

But take a closer look at what we actually see, and this falls apart. First, the giants. The giants are immortal and never need to eat. They do nothing but sleep all day and attack any human that comes close to them. Later, it’s revealed that they’ll attack any heat source including Valkyries, except we know that’s not true. Giants never attack each other, they never attack and destroy any of the plant life around them, they never attack the Lostbelt tree seeds, they even fight alongside mass-produced Valkyries before it’s revealed that Skadi and the three originals can mind-control them! They exist only to destroy, but Skadi can control them with her masks and indeed uses them as labour, keeping them chained up in her castle to be brought out and controlled as needed, or using them to guard Brynhildr’s castle. 

Worst of all, the first time we meet anyone in the chapter, it’s Gerda, who is sneaking out of her village to go to the massive liveable area close to Village 23. This area happens to be the only place she can go to get medicinal herbs that she needs or one of the people in her village will die in childbirth. This area is also full of giants, who have not destroyed it despite being fertile and full of life and heat, and who are allowed to take this place that could be used to grow more food for humans who need it, and simply stay there doing nothing. 

Now, this is where I thought the game would engage with things. How Skadi, in professing her love for all her children, is actually being cruel and unfair. They certainly set it up in the conversations she has, where she casually mentions how humans must die for her coexistence to continue. Skadi chooses to keep the giants alive despite the fact that they are all braindead and can do nothing but kill and destroy the moment their masks are removed. She chooses to keep them alive even though it comes at the expense of the humans who must die when the giants never make that same sacrifice. She chooses to allow them fertile land even though they cannot farm nor do they need food, and in doing so deprive the humans of potentially living longer, having more supplies to do so. She makes these strange choices and then later reveals she can control the giants to do her bidding, and it all seems to fall into place. 

What we see from how she’s characterized early on is that the system is unfair and Skadi is unwilling to change, because it benefits her tremendously. Gerda’s village didn’t have enough herbs to save the children forced to breed by 15, and despite Skadi’s omniscience letting her know that Gerda had snuck out and was trying to save a life, she did nothing. There was no system in place to beg a Valkyrie to get these herbs, and no indication whatsoever that Skadi would use her powers to control the giants to save Gerda’s life. The picture painted is someone who cares about humanity not out of true care, but simply out of obligation. Those who disobey her rules, even for good reasons, are left to die by the engines of destruction she keeps alive.

That’s not the story it tells later on, though. Skadi, portrayed from the start as this all-powerful goddess with complete control over everything, is revealed to be far weaker than we thought, and far less monstrous. Ignore all the times she did control the giants, she actually can’t do it all that well. Ignore all the times she declared she would not allow anyone she loved to be killed, but chose not to act to tell her Valkyries or her giants or anything else to save either Chaldea or Gerda. Ignore the evidence we see on screen that there’s more land that’s simply taken over by the giants, Skadi can only make those initial 100 villages and can’t make any more. Skadi is not bad. Skadi did the best she could. Skadi is morally right. 

Please love Skadi, there’s no complicated moral quandary here, she’s just Good.

Comparisons to Lostbelt 1 are impossible to avoid. Both have the same basic cause, a calamity that was impossible to predict and impossible to avert. The stagnation that dooms a Lostbelt created by the kings in question in their desperation to survive. Ivan turned humanity into the Yaga and created a world of strength, where progress is impossible because everyone in his new world was too busy devouring each other to work together. Skadi created a world of weakness, where progress is impossible because she limited the population to avoid everyone dying out. There is, however, one crucial difference between the two. Not in terms of story, not in terms of characters, not in terms of themes. 

“Your existence itself has already become a grave sin.”

That one line, spoken to Ivan, is the biggest difference between how the story engages things. In both Lostbelts, Ivan and Skadi did horrible things and made horrible choices because they had to, for the sake of survival. Ivan twisted humanity into monsters that lost capacity for mercy or empathy, while Skadi forced brutal population control and careless death on humanity because of her refusal to allow the giants to be destroyed. Both of them did horrible things, but only one is held to account by the story.

What Ivan did was evil, and the story recognises it. It doesn’t accept the excuse that it was all necessary for survival, because that’s irrelevant. It’s evil regardless. This same sentiment should have been expressed with Skadi, but it’s not. Ivan is condemned, but Skadi is absolved. She had no choice. She did the best she could. After building her up as all-powerful, the end of the story instead destroys her agency and power in its haste to prevent any kind of responsibility falling on Skadi’s head. Even to the very end, where she declares that she’ll kill all seven billion lives we fight for for the sake of her ten thousand, she holds back and allows us to win, despite how it butchers her character.

The biggest irony in all this is that Ivan’s world was worse than hers in ways. There was no way for the blizzards to stop, no meat besides for the demonic beasts. Crops couldn’t grow, and instead of living in peace, the Yaga were constantly tormented and killed by the Oprichniki. There were no liveable areas like there are in Lostbelt 2, no merciful ruler that sees all, and controls the greatest threats, no peaceful villages where food can be grown. There’s far more justification for Ivan to claim he had no choice and that he did all he did for survival, because it’s hard to see what his choices were. But Skadi? Skadi intentionally does not act and intentionally allows suffering and pain to come to her children, both actively by not saving Gerda, and passively by allowing the giants to take land they don’t need. Despite this, Skadi is absolved, because the story desperately wants her to be a tragic waifu that you love.

There’s lots more I could talk about. How Sitonai was pointless and existed only for a pathetic FSN reference. How Gerda was a cowardly and manipulative piece of writing compared to Patxi. How Ophelia’s story of always being told what to do is resolved not by her taking the step to freedom herself, but being told to free herself by someone else. The constant repetition that plagues the chapter, the weirdly prevalent sexism that everyone gets in on when it comes to Ophelia’s love life, the nonsense of the final battle itself, the absolute nonsense of Skadi being Scáthach-Skadi. I could even talk about how I’d fix the chapter, because boy howdy there’s a lot there. 

There’s lots more I could talk about, but this is already very long, and I think it speaks for itself. Obviously asks are available if anyone wants me to examine them in more detail, but for now, I’ll finish off with one last reminder.

Lostbelt 2 is bad.  

[brynnmck]

J/B Exchange Recs Round 1!

I have not been around Tumblr much lately because I was so preoccupied with stuff for @jaime-brienne-fic-exchange, but I am trying to get back into the swing of things, and I figured what better place to start than with some recs?

These are currently skewed a bit toward my amaaaazing gift fic and the amaaaaazing ones I beta-ed, since I am way behind on my reading, but there will be more to come!

Backpfeifengesicht by @samirant - I am so unbelievably grateful that I had both amazing prompts/amazing recipient for the fic I wrote, and such a fabulous gift fic too. I was still working on my own fic and very sleep-deprived and flagging when I read this for the first time and I think I may have actually left my body on a wave of sheer euphoria. IT IS ALL THE GOOD THINGS. So many of my favorite vacation/road trip tropes--drunken shenanigans! Intimate late-night conversations while everyone else is sleeping/elsewhere! Friends being too involved in your relationship! Unexpected forced proximity! And the banter is glorious, and the secondary characters are so well thought out and add such depth and vibrance to the story, and the Sansa/Margaery subplot was DELIGHTFUL, and I love the way this structured Brienne's relationship to Tyrion and then to Jaime as an extension of that, and the resolution was handled with an absolutely perfect balance of hilarity and heat. (There was also the stuff throughout that was very targeted to me specifically WHICH I APPRECIATED, so thanks to both Sami and @forbiddenfantasies1 for that). About 20% of the way into the story, I was deeply convinced it was Sami, and in the best possible way--it had the hallmarks I love about her writing: her sense of humor, her gift for banter, her clear affection for the characters, the richness of all the relationships. It was like showing up to a party and unexpectedly finding a friend there, and it was the loveliest feeling. I am thrilled that so many people have read and loved this story but I want everyone in the world to read and love it, so. Please check it out if you haven't! And also check out Sami's hilarious tale of woe regarding her writing process, which is amazing. THANK YOU AGAIN FOR SUCH A PHENOMENAL GIFT SAMI.  ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ ❤️

A favorite line: On any other day, Brienne would have left him - a relative stranger - to his wallowing, but an untold amount of imbibed Pentoshi Slammers stirred up a noble benevolence within her, a little voice that said they had something in common and what good were her broad shoulders if they weren’t offered as a place to rest a weary, heartbroken brow? SO GOOD.

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Lay Your Heartbreak and the sequel You could make me feel so good by @ajoblotofjunk / sdwolfpup - LISTEN. SDW sent me an early chunk of this and I was immediately OBSESSED and I have not stopped being obsessed since. Obviously worldbuilding is a huge strength of SDW's and her creativity with that is a constant astonishment to me. But pop culture is full of examples of people who can create amazing worlds and then utterly fail to populate them with interesting or dynamic characters, whereas SDW's ability to fill in those wonderfully creative spaces with her love for the characters and their love for each other that is just magic. And these fics are the perfect examples of that. The setup is not only fascinating but makes for such fantastically INTENSE feelings, omg, everything just feels like it's crackling off the page; even before Jaime and Brienne and Addam are admitting anything to each other, it's not so much simmering under the surface as boiling. The balance between the three of them is gorgeous, there are two incredibly hot fencing scenes as well as a very hot swimming scene (in addition to the sequel being just one big tangle of brain-scorching hotness), there's a perfect amount of sweetness and softness to play off all the blazing heat, and overall this is one that's going to stick with me for a long time. I know J/A/B isn't everyone's cup of tea, but if you aren't actively opposed to the idea of them, then I highly highly encourage you to check this out. 

A favorite line: That night she dreams of golden skin, hot and soft against her palm – yes, someone moans, yes – the rough scrape of callouses over the arch of her ribs, the scratch of red stubble between her thighs – like this? Yes, more, please more – legs sliding together and between each other, and two mouths touching her all over. Hnnnnngh.

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The Limit Does Not Exist by @agirlnamedkeith / sameboots - Fics with a power imbalance are something I approach with a lot of caution but I LOVED the way that sameboots handled it here. The fact that this fic includes her signature extremely hot feelings-forward porn as well as a thoughtful exploration of what it can mean to be a woman in STEM is like a beautiful multi-course meal; I cared a LOT about whether they were gonna do it and I was also equally invested in how Brienne’s thesis was going to turn out and where she would go from there. I love Brienne’s stubbornness and determination and even though she’s finding her way here (as you would be, as a grad student), those elements are VERY much on display and they spark fantastically against an initially guarded and caustic but eventually deeply admiring Jaime. And while I don’t want to spoil anything, I will say that I feel like the end is a perfect illustration of one of the major themes of the fic, and I love it so much for that. Watching this one take shape and watching sameboots geek out over her math research was a delight, and the result is excellent (and did I mention, extremely hot). Definitely worth all her work!

A favorite line: “Has anyone ever told you that you’re the worst liar?” (KIDDING HANNAH ILU HERE’S THE REAL ONE:)  The problem with smoothies was that it was hard to make them aggressively., Angrily pushing a button didn’t have the same release as whaling on a punching bag. Brienne didn’t have a punching bag, though, and she desperately needed to do something, and she was hungry. ANGRY SMOOTHING-MAKING. I LOVE IT.

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Right Off the Bat by @hillaryschu - A You’ve Got Mail AU where Jaime and Brienne are rival Little League coaches who unknowingly bond over Twitter is SUCH a great idea, and Hillary committed to it right down to the delightful rom-com-trailer summary. She also put an enormous amount of care into the details of the story--she had references for outfits, buildings, even Jaime’s cologne--and it shows in all the lush descriptions throughout. The banter is sparky, watching their two relationships gradually unfold is a lot of fun, there’s a particular tipsy (on Brienne’s part) Twitter DM exchange that I still get flustered thinking about, and there’s a batting cage scene that will be haunting my brain for a while. Especially given that Hillary had never written a story anywhere near this long before, I’m so impressed that she pulled it off (and fixed some of the most problematic elements of the movie, too). Congratulations to her on rising to the challenge!

A favorite line: But as they part from each other, Brienne lifts the hem of her tee to wipe the dirt and sweat from her face. Her exposed stomach is pale and toned, with softly defined muscles that gleam with perspiration. Jaime trips over home plate. SAME JAIME. SAME.

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X Marks the Spot (where I’ll find you again) by @pretty--thief - PIRATES. I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I HEARD ABOUT THE PIRATES. And this fic is such a fantastic blend of snappy, exciting swashbuckling (and hilarious use of parrots) and a very poignant backstory that underlays the adventure with all this yeeeeeearning and it’s SO GOOD. The action scenes are thrilling, the descriptions are gorgeous, there is STARGAZING and BATTLE COUPLE, the Jaime snark is chefkiss, Brienne is so brave and committed and quietly full of feelings, there’s a really lovely discussion of the ethics of being in the military, and also Pod and Addam and Arya and PIRATES FOR JUSTICE. SO HERE FOR THAT. And did I mention the yeeeeeearning (which is paid off wonderfully--the penultimate chapter lived rent-free in my mind for about a week after I first read it)? Ugh SO GOOD.

A favorite line: When he had exited his quarters, Brienne had looked at him with so much concern in her eyes it threatened to swallow Jaime whole. He’d felt something similar when he was around Cersei, when they were fucking or fighting; a fire he had once thought he could never tire of, would never want to put out. But Brienne had reached out her hand, as if on reflex, and smoothed her thumb across his tired brow. The ship had continued to sway beneath them, and Jaime didn’t feel fire. He didn’t feel like he would be turned to ash at any moment. He felt a breeze, the wind in his hair and salty air in his lungs. as;lfkja;sldjgas;lfjas;lf 

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Federation Fliers by @elizadunc /Ladybugbear2 - A short and very sweet one! I adore the world that Megs created in this and would happily read many many more words in it, but this is a lovely glimpse in and of itself, and made me so happy. Established relationship (which I love), one of my favorite Jaime nicknames for Brienne, a wonderfully badass Brienne and a wonderfully besotted Jaime, all against a fascinating backdrop. So good!

A favorite line: She belonged in the sky. She had a grace to her movements on the ground, but in the sky she was ethereal. HEART-EYES

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And now for a few that I just read after they were posted like a normal person:

Wine Down by @slipsthrufingers - SOME MILD SPOILERS HEREIN FYI. Okay first of all, the summary of this fic is deliciously evil and I think we all need to appreciate that. Also, it starts out with Jaime and Brienne having lunch together and these glorious descriptions of food and he has taken note of the specific food she likes and is making sure it’s provided for her and that is SO VERY MUCH MY LOVE LANGUAGE YOU DON’T EVEN KNOW. I FLAILED. And then things go, shall we say, a bit downhill, but in the most achingly beautiful way--Jaime sacrificing himself for Brienne and Brienne determined to tether him to life through sheer force of will and steadfast devotion. Slips puts us right into Brienne’s headspace/heartspace while she’s worrying for Jaime and trying to negotiate the fucked-up Lannister family dynamics (and the observations on said dynamics are wonderful too), and this hits such an excellent balance of Brienne’s rigidly controlled surface and everything that’s roiling away underneath. I’m always fascinated by the idea of what could have happened during the time that Brienne was in King’s Landing and this is such a brilliant exploration of how things could have gone, and Brienne’s interactions with the rest of the Lannisters (and Sansa) give the world that much more depth as well. The descriptions throughout are beautiful, there are so many lovely turns of phrase, the intimacy between Jaime and Brienne is just devastating, and it all comes back around to an immensely satisfying conclusion. SO GOOD. 

A favorite line: The gods had seen fit to give her an unwomanly body, so she had taken up the sword. They had given her an ugly face, so she had perfected her manners and courtesies so they could never be frowned upon. But they had given her a maiden’s heart, and try as she might she had never found the right weapon to protect it. MY PRECIOUS GIRL.

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A Matter of Honor by @nire-the-mithridatist - I shrieked at nire in DMs basically the whole time I was reading this story, it made me experience like 90% of the range of human emotions in one night and I’m still mad about it. This features a fascinatingly flipped script where Brienne is the wealthy one and Jaime the supplicant, and an arrogant-ass supplicant he is. Brienne is an angy baby nineteen-year-old who is furious at the entire world and I fucking adore her for it, and watching all the events unfold through the lens of her (generally well-founded) suspicions was a delicious sort of torture where I trusted NO ONE and genuinely did not know exactly what was going to happen next. Nire turns a lot of marriage fic tropes on their head in this and it’s all done brilliantly, and there is EXTREMELY SEXY SWORD-FIGHTING (and as a sexy bonus, Brienne’s perspective on it feels so perfect for someone who is truly an accomplished swordswoman), and nire uses some common elements throughout to just pack in these layers and layers of meaning and significance, and there are many turns of phrase so perfect that they hurt, and then she’s like “hey would you like to re-feel all the feelings in this story again in a very concentrated burst” and it’s SO MUCH, and the conclusion pays everything off amazingly. And even though it’s very swoony and romantic (and HOT. I SHOULD MENTION VERY HOT), there’s a hint of melancholy to it too, reckoning with what it means to be a woman--even a wealthy one--in Brienne’s world, and it’s just the perfect crunch of salt on top of all the sweetness. LOVE. 

A favorite line: He brought her knuckles to his lips. As sweet as honeyed nettles, he declared, “Lady Brienne. You have made me the happiest of men.” As the crowd roared in approval, she felt the sting of his kiss. STING OF HIS KISS ARE YOU KIDDING ME. Also I’m including this for purely thirsty reasons but NO SHAME: He stood from the sofa and went to help his wife undress, and if she noticed his averted eyes and his trembling hands—oh gods, the laces went on endlessly down her back, and with each pull, a little more of her figure was revealed, barely veiled by her gauzy shift—she said nothing. I DIED. I ALSO SAID NOTHING BECAUSE I WAS DEAD. Fuck, man.

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The Riverlands Gang Go to the Zoo by @naomignome - Another shorter and very delightful one with Naomi’s typical brand of chaotic humor that I adore. It’s Hyle POV, for one thing, which is good times, and the structure of this is so clever--the way each section of the zoo is used to progress the story is so seamless and happy-making, and there are tons of little jokes and Easter eggs packed in along with a very sweet, snarky emotional storyline wherein Hyle is definitely doomed. Plus another EXCELLENT Brienne nickname in here. LOVELY. 

A favorite line: “Pixel!” he said laughingly, “You know if you fell in the bear pit, I would jump after you without a second thought.” “You need to have a first thought in order to have a second one.” Brienne said dryly. SUCH A GOOD BURN.

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all these people think love’s for show (but i would die for you in secret) by @naomignome - This is SUCH A FLEX because not only did Naomi write TWO fics for her recipient but they are WILDLY DIFFERENT and I’m so impressed with her for doing it! This one is SPIEEEEESSSS and Naomi packs so much tension into 5K, I was on the edge of my seat through the whole thing. Canon events are woven in astonishingly well, and it’s a delicious enemies-to-partners-to-lovers situation that involves some excellent hurt/comfort and excellent use of RAIN to moody/sexy effect and it’s just all very thrilling. YUM.

A favorite line: He lets off a single bullet and it grazes the inside of her thigh, enough to make her wince and draw blood, but not enough to stop her from tackling him to the ground and wrestling him into submission. She’s got both of his wrists pinned above his head and her knee is drawn up and pressed against his torso. Jaime’s chest is heaving under her knee. Her chest is heaving in tandem. From above him, Brienne can see the green of his eyes darken, and even in submission, he’s annoyingly beautiful. Her blood is rushing, and it’s not all adrenaline. WHEW. SAME.

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as stars once a year brush the earth by @ylizam / mazily - Another wonderfully bite-sized one (good job actually taking the minimum word count as a guideline, people who did that, unlike the rest of us dumbasses!) that packs a lot into a small space. A canon-ish soulmates AU that’s so understated and dreamy, but with the echo of all the turmoil they’ve gone through to get to this place that brings everything in sharp relief. It’s also funny and sexy and romantic as fuck, and there are gorgeous poetic descriptions, and they spar by a WATERFALL, and just. So much happens in just over 1600 words! IMPRESSIVE.

A favorite line: Her right hand goes numb, unfeeling; back in their rooms Jaime is waking up, and she knows the phantom ache of his missing hand is bothering him. Jaime is waking, and yawning, the bed linens pooling around his waist and highlighting his summer tanned skin. She misses him, suddenly, as wide as the endless sea in front of her. BEAUTIFUL.

OKAY THIS WAS A LONG POST. That’s all I’ve got for now--more to come as I continue my reading!!

[sonofsallyjackson]

Heroes of Olympus should have been in first-person.

@jo-march-is-a-lesbian​ wrote a really wonderful post about how “Percy Jackson and the Olympians is better than Heroes of Olympus…because it understood simplicity and character development.”  It highlights some reasons I also found HoO less rewarding namely that it was an overcomplicated story with limited character growth, lacked a common thesis, and was super jarring when it switched perspectives.  

And with that my little brain went: I can fix this.  Which frankly is ridiculous.  I can’t come up with a compelling thesis like “The idea that we should place our hope in our loved ones, our friends and our family, and if we do that, we won’t be tempted to give up hope again.”   But I can imagine a simple change that would have solved some of the issues and also played to Rick’s strengths as a writer:  Each book should have been written in first person and narrated by a different character.

With so many people on the quest, I often felt like I was watching a bunch of one-dimensional characters fight for their right to be the main character.  I didn’t know who to focus on but I was also dissatisfied.  There were all these new wonderful characters in front of me who I wanted to love, but I didn’t feel like I actually knew them.  I mean I don’t feel like I know the Stoll Brothers either, but I’m not concerned about that fact because they are side characters.  When everyone is painted as the main character,  I have certain expectations for growth, personality, and voice.  The story would have been better served if the characters took turns narrating the action, allowing us to settle into their perspective, see their growth, and better understand their personality.

Plus Rick kills first-person.  While I’m not particularly a fan of Trials of Apollo, it’s not because I don’t know the characters.  Apollo is so very different than Percy. Their voices, even though they can both be jokesters at times, reflect their different life-experiences, thought processes and provide massive insight into their characters.   If the Seven (and Nico and Reyna) got the same treatment, I would be absolutely giddy.  

I recognize that rewriting the HoO series in first-person is something a talented fanfiction writer with a lot of time on their hands could actually do.  But I am not talented like that and I certainly don’t have the discipline to actually write that much fic, especially if I was trying to keep the events vaguely the same just with different narration and pacing.  So instead I’ve included who I think should have narrated each book below the cut.  I’d love to hear any opinions people have regarding this idea, especially who they would have wanted to see to narrate each book.

In addition to picking the narrator, I’ve highlighted what should be the “quest” so to speak of each story.  Personally, MoA, HoH and BoO are kind of a blur to me despite reading them all recently.  It’s hard to distinguish what happens in each book because it’s all one massive quest with a whole bunch of mini-quests.    While the different narrators would obviously make the books more distinctive, splitting the series into seven books would also help simplify each book’s individual goal.  Eight books would have allowed for better integration of the plot to find the physician’s cure, but with the prophecy of seven, it seemed like seven books was the best option, if I was going to be doing something as blasphemous as splitting books.   

As a note, I ran out of steam as I went so not all opinions are fully fleshed out. 

Book 1:  The Lost Hero The Quest: Rescue Hera/Juno Narrator:  Jason 

Why this would be cool: 

He is literally Juno’s chosen sent on a quest to rescue her.  It’s poetic enough to give him the book.

Jason’s journey is just as much about rediscovering himself as it is about saving Juno.   Of the new characters, I feel like I understand Jason the least. Mainly because I felt like I was missing the entire first half of his story.  Jason, like Percy and Annabeth, is a hero of the Titan War. I know some of his accomplishments, but I don’t have any bearing on what his life was like or how he felt about it.   He doesn’t seem like the type to relish Praetor-ship since he doesn’t have the same intense need to get back to his camp as Percy.  Was he just hoisted on his comrades’ shields after killing the Titan without any real choice in the matter? Give me Jason’s memories coming back slowly over the course of the quest (with potentially a fractured memory of a mistake he made in the Roman’s final Titan battle that makes him doubt their ability to both rescue Piper’s dad and save Hero but he makes the decision to anyway because he can’t just hurt his friend like that.   Let me understand how Jason is the person he is today.  Give me glances of the Roman Camp with emphasis on the heavy expectations that have always followed him as the son of Jupiter and foreshadow why he eventually chooses to design all the shrines for the minor gods so he can have his own place in the world as a figure between the two camps.

Let’s dive into those feelings of anger/guilt/resentment when people at camp are disappointed with him for not being Percy or in Chiron’s case are nervous about what his presence means. 

I want to dig deeper regarding Jason’s feelings about reconnecting with Thalia.  He knows that if the gods hadn’t been determined to keep the two camps completely separate, he could have grown up with his sister. 

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:  

We miss some of the internal turmoil regarding the fact that Piper’s Dad has been captured and she must betray her friends. 

We also don’t feel the tensions of Piper’s relationship with Aphrodite. I don’t see Piper bringing up the conversation with her mom saying that her mist memories were so strong because she automatically sensed the potential of a romantic relationship with Jason.  

We don’t have any of Leo’s conflicted feelings regarding rescuing Hera or his fear of being made an outcast for his fire abilities.  Jason has to go with Leo to discover Bunker 9 and Festus.  

Leo doesn’t actively save the day with the Cyclops. 

We don’t know how Piper feels about her charm-speak or see her defeat Madea (as the boys are in their weird trance thing). 

Knowledge about Gaea’s involvement in wrecking Leo’s life will come later.  

Book 2: The Son of Neptune The Quest: Free Thantos Narrator:  Hazel

Why this would be cool: 

The stakes are so incredibly high. Hazel is literally risking her second chance at life by agreeing to go on this chance.  She’s going to the place she died to fight the monster she created. She also has to deal with the trauma of knowing she may have bought the world time with her first sacrifice but it now means nothing if she can’t succeed again.  

We get to see Camp Jupiter from the view of someone who loves it but doesn’t really fit in.  Hazel joined Camp Jupiter just after the final battle.  She enters a community that has learned to fight as a well-oiled machine but that has lost people.  Dakota or the others may remark to her about how things were before or the people who are missing.  Hazel sees a community that she’s not quite a part of both because she didn’t fight in the war and because she’s in the fifth cohort with a feared godly parent.

It would explore her relationship with Nico more (because I love their dynamic and I want more).   She knows she can’t replace his real sister, but she feels comfortable and happy at the opportunity to have a brother, especially one who is out of time like she is.   

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:  

Frankly, the largest pushback would be from the fans who expected this to be Percy’s book since we just watched Jason rediscover who he is.

Percy’s phone call to his mom doesn’t have the same intensity.  

Frank’s relationship with Mars and how desperate he was to be claimed but now he doesn’t think he can live up to his father’s expectations.  

Frank and his grandmother.  We aren’t in Frank’s head as he changes shape till later.  

Book 3: Mark of Athena The Quest: Close the Divide Between The Two Camps by finding Athena’s statue and Rescue Nico Narrator(s):  Annabeth and Leo

Why Annabeth: 

So I can have all the emotions at the reunion with Percy.  

Annabeth’s relationship with her Mom has never been great, but imagine beginning the book with Annabeth being given the Mark of Athena. They haven’t left for New Rome yet and her nerves are already all over the place.  Then Athena/Minerva comes, gives her an impossible quest, and breaks her hat.   Annabeth wants to prove to her mother that she’s worthy because despite everything she still values her mother’s opinions.  Also her fatal flaw of hubris makes her believe she will succeed where everyone else failed.

Much of the book already follows her in third person limited so we just get things with a little extra emotion.  

Why Leo:  

Leo has to grapple with the fact he started this war by being the one to fire the cannon even if he didn’t have any control.  He is motivated to fix it

If we’re going to include the Sammy plot, we need to do it now.   Leo doesn’t like being the odd one out on the ship but he certainly doesn’t like the feeling of being notable because of his grandfather.  

We still need to get into those feelings of abandonment and anger at Gaea for killing his mom.  

Nemesis 

Leo comes into his own with the discovery of the Archimedes sphere and the decision to value people over objects.  

What does telling the narrative like this sacrifice:

The aquarium shenanigans 

The fight between Jason and Percy in Kansas needs to happen differently so that the others are present and try to stop it.  

Neither of them went ashore to meet Hercules.  

I think we might need to move up the Calypso meeting to this book, but that also kills some of the suspense since Frank will have the fireproof coating prior to his adventures in Venice when he gains faith in his abilities.  It also might mean Leo opens the fortune cookie from Nemesis unless for some odd reason he doesn’t have it.  There’s a lot more narrative weight for it coming later, but in order to get in as many book events as we can in, it might need to come earlier. 

Book 4:  House of Hades Pt. 1

The Quest: Survive Tartarus Narrator(s): Annabeth and Percy

The first time I read House of Hades, I read it out of order (reading all the Percy and Annabeth chapters until they were on the elevator out of Tartarus before going back and reading the others), because I couldn’t handle the back and forth.  I felt like the tension would build, I’d be invested in this plot and then we’d switch to the other plot. Plus I was very concerned for my children.  So I feel fully justified in saying that there is more than enough material to give the two of them their own book.

I just feel like all the feelings would be magnified.  

Percy’s commentary slowly losing its humor because he can’t anymore.

Annabeth’s guilt at having pulled him in being extra loud.  

Downsides beyond adding an entire book: Just imagine all the outrage at two cliffhangers in a row, because you know the book would end with them in the elevator remembering Bob’s words about the stars.   

Book 5:  House of Hades Pt. 2

The Quest:  Close the Doors of Death Narrator(s): Frank and Hazel

Frank and Hazel experience the most growth on the quest to close the doors so this book is all theirs.  Hazel learns to control the mist.  Frank experiments with his transformations.  I want nothing but them growing into themselves and their abilities.  

The good thing about turning the two warring storylines from House of Hades into separate books is that we lose very little plot.  

Book 6:  House of Hades Pt. 3/Blood of Olympus Pt 1 (Personally I would call this one Ambassador of Pluto)

The Quest:  Unite the Gods’ Personalities. Narrator: Nico

To clarify what I mean by HoH 3, I just mean anything done with the intention of trying to cross paths with Reyna, including the adventure with Cupid, in addition to the existing Nico&Reyna plotline in BoO.  

Nico dealing with all the emotions and his most recent near-death experience.

He kept the secret of the camps so the world wouldn’t end in chaos, but now that the world is in chaos he will be the one to fix it.  

In the short time he’s on the Argo 2, Nico realizes that even though this wasn’t his quest; this is his family and he needs to protect them.  

The reader has a pretty good idea Nico is gay, even if the word isn’t explicitly said from the descriptions (his guilty Percy thoughts - he let down the man he loves even if he won’t admit it.) This means that Cupid’s forceful outing is potentially less surprising so the reader can be properly outraged at Cupid.  

Downside: Reyna definitely has adventures when Nico is passed out, especially the whole waking up with the Hunters, but I think it’s excusable for a whole book from Nico’s perspective.  

Also, the battle between the camps and gifting of the statue needs to happen in this book, but we shouldn’t find out if the gods have regained control of their forms yet.  We alleviate some tensions because Camp Half-blood is likely to be overrun with Octavian’s monsters instead of the Roman armies and Gaea could awaken any second, but there’s an odd moment of calm and an uneasy truce.  (Octavian is potentially taken under custody to be held for trial only to escape in the next book.) 

Book 7:  Blood of Olympus Pt 2 (and the aftermath)

The Quest:  Like The Last Olympian, the final book’s focus is entirely on defeating the series’ big bad, in this case, Gaea.  Leo’s quest for the Physician’s cure parallels Percy’s River Styx visit.  

Narrator(s):  Leo and Piper

Leo has his death hanging over his head.  He has decided that he will be the one to die not any of his friends.  He got the cloth from Calypso so the “fire” portion of the prophecy applies to him and not Frank.  (Yes I know you can’t control prophecies, but do you think that’s going to stop Leo.)  

It’s the ultimate revenge for killing his mom.  We can have memories of both the happy times with Esperanza and the fear he felt for thinking he caused the fire. 

Piper’s perspective is necessary as we need to be with her during the fight with the giants.   

This series began with Piper, Leo, and Jason.  It ends that way too with the three of them killing Gaea and the two of them narrating.  

Downsides: 

The Percabeth I love you-the feud is over scene remains in Piper’s perspective.  

Since we’re not following Reyna’s delivery of the statue concurrently we don’t know when to anticipate the healed gods appearing in the battle with the giants.  

The book can still get away with not showing us Percy’s reunion with Sally or forcing Leo to tell the others he’s alive so they’re all grieving. 

[docholligay]

Fx’s A Christmas Carol

This review/ramble was sponsored by @amberlilly, and has taken me quite awhile to do. It clocks in at being 6,400 words long, and oh my loving God. If you want to watch the Miniseries itself, you can find it on Hulu! PLEASE TELL ME IF YOU ENJOY

I love A Christmas Carol. This may seem strange to you, given that I am a Jew who pretty virulently hates Christmas, but it isn’t REALLY a Christmas story, it’s a moral fable about selfishness and greed and the inability to appreciate and see the softer and brighter things that bring no profit. It’s a fucking story that every asshole hoarding toilet paper needs to hear right now. It’s a favorite for always, I read it every year, and I have seen many, many versions of it, and I bring you all that “wisdom” in this lengthy review of FX’s effort this past Christmas. 

Spoiler alert: I BASICALLY PICK APART THE ENTIRE MINISERIES. 

The shortest possible version of this entire loping review: I really quite enjoyed FX’s A Christmas Carol, and that seems to be an unpopular opinion. 

In the longer form: 

“A gift is just a debt, unwritten but implied” 

I have always felt that the finest form of recorded visual media is the miniseries. We, of course, do not call them miniseries any more, but, instead, ‘limited series’ or ‘a special event’ or somet stupid thing like that, for much the same reason I imagine we are now calling a station wagon a ‘full length hatchback’ because people are idiots, and you can’t sell something to someone if they don’t it is novel.

The miniseries allows the story time to breathe, allows for lingering thoughts and ideas in the way a two hour movie does not. And it avoids the worst of the TV show problem, where a show is punished for its own success by being forced to be mined like its fucking coal shale until there is absolutely nothing left, just some ugly polluted ground where a good idea used to be. 

And so I was very delighted at the idea of a Christmas Carol miniseries. 

Tonally, in broad strokes, it is much darker than the Christmas Carol you’re used to. This is a new Christmas Carol for a new period in time, and it tries to bring a lot of the genuine problems of the Scrooges of our modern day and transport them back to Victorian England. It does not in any way try to shield you from the fact that Scrooge is a man who thinks of nothing but profit, not of any human cost, and it does not rest upon anyone’s previous affections for A Christmas Carol. In fact, it would prefer that you deposit them at the door: This is a moral ghost story, this is not some warm Christmas good time for the family. 

And I would prefer it this way! Many of my most hated versions of this story become that way by making too much light of what is meant to be a moral fable. Or centers the story too much around Christmas itself, which it is not meant to REALLY be about. Of course, the very wealthy and those who prefer to be blind to their role in the suffering of others prefer the version of the story where the main problem is “Scrooge doesn’t like Christmas” and so I can see why they would consider this version a negative. I, however, am going to immediately find a copy of this one to keep. This is the way businessmen are. This is the way the very wealthy are.

The “thesis statement” of this show, which sets it apart from many other adaptations, is something Scrooge says early on in the movie, I think it happens within the first ten or fifteen minutes (bolding, obviously, is mine): 

“Behold. One day of the year. They all grin and greet each other when every other day they walk by with their faces in their collars. 

You know, it makes me very sad to see all the lies that comes as surely as the snow this time of year. How many Merry Christmases are meant, and how many are lies? To pretend on one day of the year that the human beast is not a human beast. That it is possible we can all be transformed. 

But if it were so--if it were possible for so many mortals to look at the calendar and transform from wolf to lamb--then why not every day?

Instead of one day good, and the rest bad, why not have everyone grinning at each other all year, and have one day of the year where we are all beasts, and pass each other by? Why not turn it around?” 

I mean, I heard this and was like, “Why are you booing him, he’s right,” because he is right. I have often found that one of my frustrations with the ways people engage with a Christmas Carol is they forget the “try to keep it all the year” part of it, and it has nothing to do with fucking trees and parties, it has to do with generosity and kindness. 

And this show goes in on that! SO LITTLE of what the show engages with is about Christmas at all, it’s a narrative setup, a collective mythology used to enact a moral tale, and I absolutely love that they actually went on what I feel is the core of A Christmas Carol. 

I’ve broken this down in NOT broad strokes but categories, to try and make the most sense of my thoughts on the show and why and how I think they work. 

On the subject of the ghosts: 

I absolutely love and adore the way they handle the ghost of Christmas Past. I am never sure what I’m getting into when I’m watching a version of this story because the ghosts are handled so many different ways, and I love MANY of them, but it’s one of the most tweaked with ideas in any version. And I see why! There’s so much you can do with them. 

Christmas Past they handle by having him change depending on where Scrooge is in his life, and the implication throughout is that he changes into whatever it was that scrooge needed in that time of his life, whatever he was seeking. With Ali Baba, it was escape, with the businessman, it was business, and they did all this with great actual care, up to an including having different actors play the different versions of the ghost of Christmas past. I’ve seen something like this done a few times (and have always been very fond of it) but if I recall correctly this may be the first time I’ve actually seen them go to the length of hiring different actors.  

The sheer mockery Christmas Past makes of him is worth the adaptation in and of itself--Christmas Past feels little for him, and I’m brought to mind the scene where his father comes home drunk, and Scrooge begs, in a moment of weakness, oh please not this night, and the Ghost simply says, ‘Why not this night?” I really quite like the less nostalgic tone they took with Christmas Past versus other versions. 

Christmas Present I thought was a bit of a letdown at first, just having his dead sister be the ghost, but when I was rewatching it, I realized that I liked it quite a bit more than I had in my first watching. Present is often the “easy” ghost, generally the one that is given the most positive sort of framing, and it’s not that they remove the positive framing here with Lottie, but they do tone it down a bit, and make it quite a bit more somber to be with her because we cannot remove what Scrooge has done to these lives. There is much less of the “cheerful, noble poor” rhetoric so common in the older novels (and at the time far more revolutionary) and far more of the reckoning that Scrooge has caused so much misery, but people have found a way around it, because they understand the value of other human beings. 

I particularly love the way she takes what he’s learned from Christmas Past, the way he’s seen how he is constantly aiming to discover what the currency of everything is with his horrid and cruel behavior, what things COST people, and dismantles it, shows him wha t a fucking fool he is, and when he says she’s mocking him, she simply tells him “You mock yourself, putting a value to things that have no price” and for the fiurst time ever, it seems like he’s really getting it. 

To those who miss the over-the-top cheer of Christmas Present, I might ask: “Do you miss the fucking THRASHING he gives Scrooge in the novel when it is removed? (as it is often?) Or does that just sort of...fritter away for you?” 

Christmas Future is basically often/always the one note ghost for me and that’s to be expected given that the character has no lines and is of an amorphous shape, which writing wise is a genius move because the future itself is amorphous and can always be changed. That is, in fact, one of the lessons of a Christmas Carol, is it never too late. But of course, in media driven by the dialogue, without much chance for internal patter, it can falter a bit, and I think this is about the same here.I have no trouble with how the ghost was done, in any way, but it does not, for example, twist the spirit into something terribly interesting in the way the otherwise forgettable “A Diva's Christmas Carol” does by making it into a “behind the music” episode. 

On the subject of Ebenezer Scrooge: 

Some people seem to be really rather upset that Ebenezer isn’t played as some bumbling old curmudgeon, but is instead a callously cruel businessman who thinks of nothing but the pursuit of money. One review I read while writing this, looking for things to respond to, described him as an ‘anti-hero’ which made me extremely concerned for the human being writing the review, as I don’t think the show in any way makes Scrooge into any kind of a hero. There are certainly versions that do that by way of making him “the cleverest person in the room” (even my beloved Scrooged is guilty of this, and Mickey’s a Christmas Carol is almost inexcusably so.) but this isn’t what the show is doing here. He is a miserable man, and he delights in making others miserable, he is a man so desperate to prove that every person in this world is as miserable as he is that he orders about the world to make it so. 

If you see an anti-hero in him, I am far, far, more concerned about you than I am about anything else. 

He is more like actual billionaires than any version I’ve seen. His cost cutting, his destruction. He is perversely cruel and sees human beings as playtoys. He echoes far more than any version I have seen, the true appetites of the rich, and maybe this is why this version shines so much for me, and why so many others dislike it. It cuts to the bone, this Scrooge. 

This show goes harder than other versions in many respects, and one of those respects is in Ebenezer’s childhood. His father is cruel in the novella, but really only glancing so, we hear little of his childhood at all, other than his father sent him away, and his sister had to wait for years to ask for him back. We must remember something: Dickens was writing on a tight timeline compared to his other works. I have no idea if he would have expanded on Scrooge’s past himself or not, but I certainly know he did not have the time and space to do so in his normal fashion. 

The show does a really interesting thing with Ebenezer, in that it does not allow a monster to grow from nothing. Most monsters do not. This is by no way an excuse--I think the show makes that fairly clear--but it is an explanation. His sister gives him a mouse, a stray mouse, for Christmas, dressed up with a little bell and ribbon from one of her toys, and Ebenezer loves it, and his father, drunk and impoverished, kills it. It’s an intense and horrifying scene, and as with many of the things in this show, in accomplishes this while showing nearly nothing. The entire scene happens in shadow, but you feel the fear of Ebenezer as a child, how it affects him to this day, how he begs for it not to be this night. The show makes even more clear how central this was to his willful callousness, his desire to never be hurt, by explaining that his father did this to “Warn me against unprofitable affections” 

I am now, and have always been, a sucker for a bit of writing that can allow for a character to be a monster, and also give a seed to plant that monstrosity, without forgiving them. It can be a delicate thread to weave, even more so with the way that people take characters, that sort of knee-jerk desire for a character to be either monstrous or abused, when, it can be both. Having cruelty enacted upon you does not forgive cruelty to others. I feel like show does a fairly decent job with this, reminding Ebenezer that his hated father affected him far more than the love of his sister, Lottie, or any promise of love in the future. He has shut himself off from love, and while he cannot be blamed for the cruelties of his father or the way he essentially sold him to a pedophile for free schooling, it was Scrooge who decided that all this meant his only way forward was counting. Numbers as wealth as his only true love. 

Scrooge even tries to pull a tumblr in this way, looking at the abuse and telling the Ghost, ‘This excuses me” as if he should be let entirely off the hook, AS A GROWN ASS ADULT, for what happened to him as a child. Non non! And the Ghost sides with me in this, telling him, “You only see what was done to you, and not what was done for you” and may I please frame that? I love that they looked at this out in the script and went, “Oh, I’m gonna close that up” 

They do this a second time, but not in a tumblr way, more in a reddit way, when Scrooge protests that whatever else he did to Mary Crachit, the money he gave to mary saved Tim’s life, and so, “if you view virtue purely through the consequence of an action rather than the motivation for said action we have just witnessed my former self doing a good thing.” (Me, watching this: I’m Jewish, I don’t do that even slightly.) and as the Ghost of Christmas Past goes to leave, Scrooge asks if he is forgiven, and Christmas Past yells, “It’s not about your forgiveness!” I love that in so many ways, they tie up what a person might argue in Scrooge’s favor, but Scrooge can’t see that forgiveness is nothing and change is everything. 

Making Scrooge a venture capitalist was, to me, an absolute banner move. A new villain for a new age. Don’t get me wrong, moneylender is now and always will be a fantastic villain, but venture capitalists have ruined many things you’ve loved TO THIS DAY. They buy troubled businesses, that could be saved, and instead of trying to turn them around, they sell them for parts, get the last scrap of meat off them, and then crush them. I can think of three businesses this has happened to that I know of, off the top of my head, in my lifetime: Toys R Us, Cabelas, and Lucky’s. All could have been saved, some of them (Lucky’s) fairly easily. But that isn’t what people like Scrooge do. 

The way they have him taken into the mine, to see what the cost cutting does to people, or the factory, burning and killing so many people, it allows us to really dwell in the HUMAN cost in a way that many versions shy away from outside of the Crachits. I think it’s very easy to go “Cutting costs hurt workers” but we often don’t really dwell in that, especially considering SHIT LIKE THIS IS STILL HAPPENING IN THE WORLD TODAY. Go look up conditions in Bangladeshi factories, how much do we really deserve H&M, you know? 

A personal touch I very much loved: Scrooge cares about animals far more than people. I LOVE this is a fucking villainy trait. I think we all know that person! I hate that person! And I adore so much when Scrooge says, down in the mine that is about to kill workers, some of whom are children, that he tried not to think about the ponies, and the Ghost of Christmas Past basically goes: “Are you SHITTING ME? Did you never care about the MEN down here?” while also allowing for the fact that his covering up a cold horse in London is the only reason the ghosts believed there was something good in him at all. 

On the Crachits: 

Bob:

The first time I watched this, I was like, “Man, do I even like Bob in this?” because he’s so different from the usual portrayal of Bob Crachit as meek and mild. But upon my second watching I realized I was really only reacting to the difference in tone for Bob, and that I very much like that he is a simmering pot of resentment and hatred, serving under a terrible fucking boss who makes money hand over fist while he busts ass with no benefits or help for very little pay. WOW DOESN’T THAT SEEM RELEVANT TO OUR TIMES? 

So yes, I very much changed my mind (this is why rewatching things is sometimes helpful for me) on the subject of Bob, and I think in this case he makes such a better standin for the average worker, for the way the system chews us up and spits us out and oh my god I want to give every rich boss I ever had Covid right now. 

Mary: 

Mary Crachit becomes a main character in this version of the story and I am absolutely taken with it. The way she does whatever it is she has to for her family, the way she is willing to lie and degrade herself in order to do so, up to and including being willing have sex with Scrooge (it does not actually happen, but the scene plays out) in order to save and protect her family, and never tell them where she got the money to save Tim’s life. 

She lies to Bob about this! Forever! I struggled with where I wanted to put this because I talk more about it in relation to the storyline and the scene itself below, but I decided just to leave it with Mary herself, and the way that she really does make massive sacrifices in order to protect everyone in her family. She bears the shame and the indignity of what was done to her, what she chose to do to save Tim, without any regard for herself. Mary is the rock of the family so much more than Bob is in this telling. 

She’s also inadvertently the one who saves Scrooge, wishing for and calling upon the spirits to show him what a piece of shit he is. 

Tim: 

Tiny Tim is no less a narrative device here than he is in other versions--that’s simply the function of TIny Tim. He’s the “puppy” of the story and we kill him off in order to tweak heartstrings and encourage changed behavior. They do make his disability more clearly defined in this one, and so things make a little bit more sense than they tend to in the original framing. 

I also really quite loved the effect with him breaking through the ice, and how Scrooge has to see it from below, and watch it, and see TIm’s spirit and beg him himself not to die, but to stay with his parents, to no avail, I thought it was a clever take on something we’ve seen done over and over again. 

Broader story changes:

The genuine spookiness. 

This is not the only version of Christmas Carol I’ve seen that attempts to create a genuine sense of fear and creepiness out of the subject material, and it’s not even the one that I think is the scariest, but I do think it does a really excellent job of reminding you that this is a ghost story. There are good little details here and there, particularly in the lead up to Jacob’s visit, that allow for a genuine sense of fear, or at the very least the understanding of Ebenezer’s fear. 

Outside of the doorknob incident, we also have the two coins, the exact same years as the ones Scrooge put over Marley’s eyes, drop down from the fireplace. This not only a good moment of spookiness that is difficult for Scrooge to explain away later, but it also gives us an early introduction to his obsession with numbers. 

But my favorite comes after Bob leaves for the day, and on Scrooge’s ledger he sees scrawled, by no one or nothing that he knows, “PREPARE YE,” that would be enough in itself, ut then we have a lovely moment that really encapsulates the capacity for self-delusion. Scrooge looks at the clock, and asks the clock to make it four, because he refuses to leave his office early, but he desperately wants to leave. He changes the watch he carries, and then the world goes into shadow, and all of a sudden the clock chimes four. DId time move? WHo can know, but it unsettles Scrooge enough. It isn’t only creepy, either, but is a moment to show that Scrooge will not bend himself by leaving early, but instead he will remake the world as he sees it. He will change the watch and make it lie, and thus change the world. 

The human cost of industry. 

One of the greatest things I think this adaptation does, and I’m not going to go too far into here because I go into it all over the place in this look at the series, is taking into account the human cost of industry. I don’t even mean the scenes in the mines, or the scene with the factory on fire, although of course those too. I mean even scenes like where a man has just died, and they are pressing him to sell the factory at half of what it’s worth, only to immediately fire all the workers and sell off the factory for parts not but a day later. To flip it into immediate profit. 

And we’re shown that he remembers nothing but the money he made off of all of it--the Ghost of Christmas Past has little effect on him, except as stage setting--and he runs off the numbers, remembering the profit he made of every single year, forgetting the workers, forgetting the people, forgetting what that money COST him, cost everyone. 

When we see Scrooge as moneylender in a lot of other adaptations, it’s easy to forget that making a lot of money usually has a lot of human cost. People of good character often say, ‘If I were a billionaire” but if you are a person of good character, you never become a billionaire. What it takes to become a billionaire is the coldness, the selfishness, to not allow your rising tide to lift other boats, but to hoard, and to keep. There are no good billionaires. 

Women are given shit to do in this version. 

For all I love the original novella, and I do, it is a product of its time, and because it is a product of its time, the women are mostly accessories to the story. Not so with this version, which has really tried to course correct that little problem from the original. 

With Lottie, not only to they have her save her brother, but then we have her become the ghost of Christmas Present, which I thik works really well as she seems to be the one person in his life Scrooge actually cared for and valued. He, a man who believed in nothing but money, paid for her funeral, and it’s a bit implied that with her death the last light of humanity went out of him. She saves Scrooge not once, but twice, when her sole job in the novella is essentially to show up at the school. 

I talk about Mary Crachit in her own section, so I’m not going to go into it too much here, but this version made her a goddamn main character, and I love it. I think that opens up this story for so many things and ideas that I didn’t even know I wanted but clearly did, all the different expressions of love, some of which are not nice or warm. Mary is a driver of the story far more than Bob is in this version, and I absolutely love it. 

The love inherent in sacrifice, and Scrooge’s blindness to it. 

One major SWERVE this story takes is with the subject of Mary Crachit. Where, in the novella, she hates Ebenezer because he’s a fucking dick and that’s about the beginning and the end of it, in this miniseries, she hates him because he was so unbelieveably callously cruel. He used her for his own disgusting appetites, he used her to prove that all human decency has a cost. 

It, like the mouse scene, is horrifying and uncomfortable, and I am very fond of it. It could have gone full rape no stars, but it doesn’t do that. It has Scrooge humiliate her, make it known that she was ready to do this, have her removed her clothes and stand before him, clutching the stays to herself. He doesn’t have sex with her, doesn’t sexually assualt her, tells her he isn’t even interested in that. Instead he picks apart, moment by moment, that she is a good Christian woman, that she loves her husband, that she considers herself faithful, and she is willing to sell herself for the thirty pounds (That’s around 4,700 USD today). It doesn’t matter that she’s doing it because her son needs immediate medical care, and Scrooge refused her offer of a loan as a “poor investment.” It’s terrifying, it’s humiliating, and it’s sadder yet because people with money are LIKE THIS. I could see this happening now, with little trouble. And the scene makes us sit with that cruelty without making it graphic, and in some ways I think that makes it worse, as it should be. 

But, tying this to the scene where Lottie, without his knowledge, comes to get him and threatens to kill the man who is sexually abusing Ebenezer if he so much as tries to come after them, for all he sees, he does not see the love in this act. He does not see what it must have taken Lottie, after their father finally left them, to take up and come to get him, to break him out of that horrible place. He only sees that he was the victim here. In the same way, he cannot see the love inherent in Mary’s act. What it must take for her to lay down every single thing that she believes in, because above all else, she wants to save her son. 

Which goes back to what I quoted at the beginning, a line I really loved for the sheer selfish cruelty of it: “ A gift is a debt, unwritten but implied.” So much of Scrooge’s ‘redemption’ in this version comes out his ability to learn that what his father says is in no way true. Lottie gave him the gift of freedom without asking anything of him, ever, so long as he lived, never even told him what she’d done. Mary never looks upon Tim with even the slightest bit of resentment for what she had to do to save his life. 

Which sort of leads me to my next bit, which is not so much a different section as a corollary to this one: Destruction as a form of love. I could write a 2,000 word essay on this in and of itself, but this is already more than 5,000 words long, so I am not going to do that. 

Leading off from the fact that Mary breaks her marriage vows and her vows to herself in order to save Tim, she also chooses to lie about it for the rest of her given life. She has no idea that a situation is going to come down where she’s going to have to tell Bob, she simply chooses, instead to bear her shame and hurt and terror alone, on some hand I’m sure because she thinks Bob will hate her but also because she knows that it will make Bob feel all the more preyed upon, that nothing in his life can be without the evil touch of Scrooge. 

And so, she chooses this tearing, this negative thing, but she chooses it out of love, and much like when we see Lottie “like a highwayman” threaten to kill the man that hurt Scrooge, we learn that not all love is a beautiful and warm thing, and sometimes love is difficult and unlikeable and hard. Sometimes there is love to be had in the things of shadow, as well. 

And in the end, when Scrooge destroys the ice sating rink so that Tim can’t fall through, that’s the idea that he can finally encompass this, that his love is total now, and it’s not just “scrooge gave everyone money” but SCROOGE LEARNED TO DESTROY THAT WHICH WAS TERRIBLE. 

Which leads me to:

THE ENDING: 

Let’s talk about all the things they change in the ending because there are a lot of them and I fully expected to hate that but it was very much that snake comic where it goes “I don’t like that thing”...”Oh no I love it.” 

Scrooge’s ‘redemption’ doesn’t come out of him wishing that he wasn’t the one to die, or wish that everyone would not hate him so much and immediately forget him, but out of the ida that it doesn’t matter what happens to him so long as Tim is allowed to live. He finally lets go of that massive selfishness which allowed him to profit so very much, and to give himself over to whatever it is, to be tortured, to not be forgiven. 

Because he knows he doesn’t deserve forgiveness, that he does not deserve redemption. He REFUSES redemption, he says he refuses to change because he refuses redemption, he refuses to not allow himself to be punished. “If redemption were to result in some kind of forgiveness than I do not want it” He finally owns his shit, because a large part of the point this miniseries is trying to drive home is that YOU are responsible for YOU, and no amount of excuse can let stand the horrible things we might do, or the things we let pass us by. I’m very into this, in a shock to literally no one. 

The sign that he can be saved is that he does not wish to be saved at all. 

And he does more, and better, than in the original, he gives Bob 500 pounds, yes, but also encourages him to take the better job he’s been offered, because Scrooge, in a true move of understanding what his greater evil is, is closing the entire company down, He is stopping the machine of destruction entirely instead of giving money to whoever he finds deserving and letting those he does not be chomped up by the machine. It’s a far greater sacrifice, a far more meaningful turnaround, than any version I’ce seen before. 

Mary tells him it will not buy forgiveness, and he says, yes, good, I won’t trouble you. I didn’t know how badly I wanted an ending like this until I saw it before me, but it was everything I had ever wanted from this. 

And then we, the viewing audience, all get called out at the very end, and it made a chill run down my spine and tears spring to my eyes in a way that really rarely happens to me but happens to me most when I feel “got” for lack of a better term. 

Mary is looking out the window, and says “Sprits, Past, Present, and Future. There is still much to do.”

And then she looks directly at us. And the screen goes black. We are left not saying “Oh wow gee willickers, that Scrooge guy sure was nasty BUT” and instead go away with, “How have I been Scrooge in my daily life? How can I change?”and for me it was harrowing in the way I think all viewings and readings of  A Christmas Carol should be, that we should always come away with the idea that we could be doing a better job, that some cruel Ebenezer waits inside all of us and we must constantly be working to root him out. 

Very minor loves:

The idea that the greatst torture is to be locked in one’s coffin, and never allowed to die, and how one does not really require a hell in itself, as one has been conventiently provided to each man, women and child who requires it. Really clever. What is interesting in that, however, is that the show is somewhat harder on Marley. In the novella, he is driven to help Scrooge by way of their past friendship, by some humanity he’s found in death toward his old friend. In this, it’s essentially only to escape this hell. 

Changing, “If they’re going to die, they’d better do it! And decrease the surplus population” to the very simple “then let them die” is something I didn’t expect to like--on the whole I am rather attached to the original line, but I think with the way they are trying to play Scrooge as more of a straight up villain and make this whole thing less of a ‘charming Christmas tale’ it really works. 

I love the bit with Christmas past when they use the zoopraxiscope thing to project the images, and it’s his hat. There’s nothing deep about it, I just really like it as a touch. 

People can be irredeemable, in their way: Lottie and Ebenezer’s father doesn’t turn kinder, the way he does in the novella, but just leaves, and so Lottie is free to bring him home. There’s no redemption for him. (I actually think this is really weakly handled in the novella despite my loving it) 

I unfortunately have less talent for talking about visual stylings, but one thing I noticed within this movie is that it’s filmed ina lot of blues and greys, underscoring the whole darker tone of the story, and I really appreciated it.  

Thank you for this fucking line, I cherished it and it’s place in the story so very fucking much: “Given my time again, I would not reduce the expenditure on timber. *long pause* Given the time again, I would not be myself.” It’s hard to get across in writing, when one is not turning their hand to it literarily, but it’s really this beautiful admission of guilt without being entirely some sobbing ridiculousness. 

HIS THING WITH HORSES GETS EXPLAINED BY THE NARRATIVE THANK YOU OH MY GOD. I was so sure this was just going to be a sidenote thing but they remembered to follow up and I was very proud in that moment. 

“Everything in life is a lesson if you care to learn” which I should have tattooed on my body as it is my exact framework of thought. 

The observation of the Crachits and just that, “no matter what, nothing sinks them” was just something I enjoyed. (and am stealing) 

I fucking loled when Ebenezer is excitedly gesturing to the Crachits after his new life, and looks at Martha and goes “whoever you are” 

What I could have done without: 

There are always MINOR nitpicks with any version, but one thing I’ll say that I considered rather major, and did not care for in the slightest, was all the dick-fucking around in the spirit realm with Marley. We could have buttoned that up right quick, and we didn’t, and there’s a huge gap in my notes where I’m just like, “Ah okay! I guess….we’re still here?” I think some of the ideas were sound but the execution was poor. 

Sometimes I felt like the writing beat me over the head with the morality of what was going on but then I read reviews of it and was like, “Ah okay, I suppose these people are why that exists” so while for me I would like a bit more subtlety I suppose I understand why sometimes there cannot be. 

IN CONCLUSION, AFTER MORE THAN 6,000 WORDS: I really quite liked this version of A Christmas Carol. It’s not a children’s version by any stretch of the imagination, but I don’t think a Christmas Carol is meant to be. I definitely will be coming back to this one, which makes it only one of a handful. It was a good recommendation for me, when I wasn’t sure I was going to watch it in the first place--there are so many versions of CC that I am still trying to get through--and I found that I really enjoyed it. 

The focus on the morality of the situation and making great pains to decouple it from the holiday itself made this a much-needed refresher of the story for me that keeps more to what I think the original was GOING for (Source: literally all of Dickens’ writing on poverty) than the way it’s been twisted by our Capitalist Christmas Culture. I loved that the women were given more to do and an equal hand in the story, and there were a number of really lovely lines that will stick with me.

[douchebagbrainwaves]

MICROSOFT IS IT WORTH BEING WISE

We're more confident. The first is probably the effort required just to start a startup. So what is the conclusion? The point is not just that they can do to encourage the process? But you can't eat paper. Americans are said to be more entrepreneurial, and less afraid of risk. As I was leaving I offered it to him, as I've done countless times before in the same way. I want to examine its internal structure. The German and Dutch governments, perhaps from fear of elitism, try to ensure that all universities are roughly equal in quality. It's the basis of everything.

Most imaginative people seem to be what happens. Except you judge intelligence at its best, and wisdom by its average. You already know where you're going, and you open it and walk in to see what's inside. So is being determined as all hell. This was the era of physical media. I'm not typing this on an Apfel laptop. But America has no monopoly on this. Wise means something—that one is on average good at making the right choice.

At first they're always dismissed as being unsuitable for real work, jump on it. We would have sold. I spent a lot of people seem to think they're going to sell content—that they have a fair amount of data to go on. The effect was rather as if we were just supposed to restate what we said in the first paragraph, but in other fields where relentlessly resourceful is the recipe for success in writing or painting, for example, the wisdom of the engineer who knows certain structures are less prone to failure than others. Insiders who daren't walk through the mud in their nice clothes will never make it to the solid ground on the other hand, are almost forced to work on a large scale. So, yes, there does seem to be very good at business or have any kind of creative vision. Well, therein lies half the work of essay writing. It's completely pervasive. The answer, I realized, is how does the comber-over not see how odd he looks?

Either way it sucks. What would someone who was the opposite of hapless be like? A couple years ago my friend Trevor and I went to look at the YC application, there are two things I want to write essays, you need two ingredients: a few topics you've thought about a lot, and some ability to ferret out the unexpected must not merely be an inborn one. The time was then ripe for the question: if the study of ancient texts acquired great prestige. We no longer admire the sage—not the way people did two thousand years later in Feynman breaking into safes at Los Alamos. They're like a food that's not merely healthy, but counteracts the unhealthy effects of things you've already eaten. We could sell ourselves to Yahoo for $50 million, and everyone was delighted. So the best way to understand the feeling of futility you have when you're writing the things they make you write in school are not only not essays, they're one of the reasons I like being part of this world.

And while wisdom yields calmness, intelligence much of the difficulty comes from this external force. If we look at how people use the words wise and smart, what they seem to mean is different shapes of performance. The power of this technique extends beyond startups and programming languages and essays. The other half is expressing yourself well. Now when people talk about trolls they usually mean this broader sense of the word thesis, the better. An essay is supposed to be the one to discover its replacement. Pointing out that someone is unqualified is as desperate as resorting to racial slurs. I pointed out that because you can only judge computer programmers by working with them, no one took them very seriously. It was like watching a car you're chasing turn down a street that you know has no outlet. Whoever controls the device sets the terms. But don't change so much that they copy even their flaws. We do this with YC itself.

The lesson: don't pick cofounders who will flake. Unless you're a wizard at negotiation and if you're not good at anything yet, consider working on something so new that no one could tell. It's worth understanding what McCarthy discovered. You haven't seen someone's true colors unless you've worked with them on a startup. I run into difficulties, I find I conclude with a few vague questions and then drift off to get a job with a big company or a VC fund. I must be near the truth. And what's especially dangerous is that many happen at your computer. Whatever you study, include history—but a cleaned-up train of thought, as dialogue is cleaned-up conversation. Neither of the conventional explanations of the difference between wisdom and intelligence apply to different types of work, we can avoid being discontented about being discontented. And this turns out to be another intellectual hangover of long forgotten origins.

[sleepingfancies]

We Need to Talk About SJM

I was recently anonymously asked what exactly my issue with Sarah Jane Maas is, and ended up writing what was essentially a thesis paper about it. Unfortunately, Tumblr pulled a Shitty Website move and deleted everything I wrote under the ‘read more’ tab, so I’m compiling my reasons here on a masterpost, for your reading leisure.

EDIT: Read more tab continues to not work for me, so I apologize to all of you who have to suffer through this. I’ll tag is as a long post accordingly.

Let’s get started

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Reason 1: She preaches messages that no young girl needs to (or should) hear.

Granted, I know the a lot of the YA genre are adults who are no strangers to smut and aren’t phased by toxic behavior in characters. But on the same token, a lot of the YA genre is fueled by young girls age 12-20. Now I’m not going to sit here and pretend like girls in that age range aren’t reading/writing smutty fanfiction or dating. I know they do, I did, most of my friends did. But at that age, young girls are still trying to figure out who they are and who they want to be, including in terms of relationships. That’s where my problem with Maas comes in.

Maas writes, almost exclusively, toxic relationships - at best. Straight up abusive at worst. At one point in ACOTAR, I had to put the book down because I was so disgusted by what happened. Rhysand assaulted Feyre. I’m not kidding. He kissed and groped her against her will, telepathically asked whether she was wet about it, and wondered aloud what she looked like naked. The entire goal of doing this was to piss Feyre’s then-boyfriend off, and for Rhysand to assert his dominance as a Fae lord or whatever the fuck (y’know, like rapists do). Feyre was left shaking, nauseated, and scared for her life. But the worst part? It was written like this was something sexy and desirable. Literal penetration was all that stopped this from being a horrifying rape scene, and I couldn’t believe Maas wrote about it like some hot erotica. It wasn’t romantic. It wasn’t cute. It was disgusting, violating, and I was furious when I read it (especially given Feyre actually ends up with Rhysand eventually. What the fuck).

In Throne of Glass - and subsequent sequels - there are couples (namely Rowan and Aelin) who quite literally spit on each other, punch each other, and bite each other. No, not “love nip” bite, I mean “I’m trying to tear your skin off” bite. But we’re meant to believe they’re endgame, meant to be, and a totally healthy relationship. Let’s not even get into emotional abuse and manipulation, because holy fuck does every single character in these books act like a goddamn villain if we were to go over that in detail. All you need to know is that “if you don’t do xyz then I’ll leave and never come back” “what made you think I cared about you? You’re nothing to me. Just kidding, I love you” and similar sentiments are rampant in these series.

While we’re here, what is up with this “mates” nonsense? Every character pairing we see by the end of the ToG series has a “mate,” and swears off everyone they’ve had before, claiming them to be “false mates.” This whole “mates” business sounds a lot like somebody desperately trying to reassure their insanely jealous partner that they don’t still have feelings for their ex. That’s not healthy! That’s not okay! Your exes helped you narrow down your search. They helped you understand yourself more and what you want (or don’t want). And y’know what? It’s okay to have happy memories with an ex. It’s okay to not hate your ex. Telling young girls that all that matters is their future husband (which erases LGBT+ girls, as well as straight women who don’t want to get married) is harmful as hell, and contributes to the idea that a girl is only “complete” when she finds her “soulmate.”

Girls 12-20 really do not need to be given the message that it’s normal - nay, romantic - for their partners to hit them, humiliate them, or assault them. You may be saying, “Clara, come on, girls know fiction isn’t reality and no girl is actually going to stand for that kind of thing in real life.” But I can’t tell you how horribly my own view of relationships was corrupted for several years after all the books I read as a tween where the protagonist had to defend her flirty boyfriend from the advances of other girls. I didn’t trust boys not to cheat on me. I didn’t trust my girl friends not to try and steal a boyfriend. I thought girls who dressed up and wore makeup and dated a lot were sluts. It took me years of conscious effort to unlearn those ideas. Fiction can and does influence the reader. So again I say: teaching girls that it’s “hot and sexy” when men literally abuse you is not a message a 12-20 year old should be hearing. Ever.

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Reason 2: What exactly does Maas want her readers to be?

Y’know, Maas thinks Caelena/Aelin is a role model for young girls. But here’s a brief list of things Celery/Alien has done throughout the Throne of Glass series:

1. Tried to smash a flower pot over a girl’s head for showing interest in courting Prince Dorian. Despite said girl literally being present at the castle for that purpose and Caelena was not.

2. Very nearly murdered Dorian for absolutely fuckall reason, and then she got mad at Chaol for trying to stop her (keep in mind: Chaol and Dorian are supposed to be best friends. So like... yeah, he’s gonna come to Dorian’s defense).

3. Straight up said, “if I get bored being queen I’ll just go and conquer more lands for my kingdom.” Imperialist there much, Aelin?

This is Maas’ role model material? Half the shit she does from Heir of Fire onward could be described as “war crime” and the other half could be described as “selfish.” Maas seems to think that a shit ton of half-baked “witty” lines and a few “badass” fight scenes completely makes up for having an amoral character as the protagonist you want to flaunt around as an icon for young girls.

It would be one thing if Maas said, “I don’t want anyone to be like Celery/Alien. She’s not a good person and I want my readers to be able to identify how and why she isn’t a good person. The moral is what not to be like.” But she does the opposite and claims time and time again that Celery/Alien is some kind of feminist warrior, when in fact Celery/Alien is the very epitome of white feminism and false feminism. She’ll be all kinds of gung-ho for herself, but as soon as another woman mentions her own unique problems or lifestyles, Celery/Alien thinks she’s a “whiny bitch,” “dumb slut,” or something similar. Celery/Alien ends up looking down her nose at basically every other female character. The lack of female friendships in Maas’ books is frankly astounding.

No girl needs to be Celery/Alien. Celery/Alien is not a role model, she is not a feminist, she is not a figurehead of a well developed female character or even a compelling antihero. She’s sexist, she’s misogynistic, she has serious anger issues, she’s manipulative, she’s abusive. This is not who young girls should be looking up to.

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Reason 3: Maas has no place in the YA genre.

I’m not really sure I need to elaborate much on this. Let me give you a scenario:

Imagine you’re at a book signing for your fans. They’re mostly girls 15-20, so you kind of just sign their copies without thinking much about it. But then a smaller girl comes up to the table, you ask her age, and she says “I’m ten.” A 10 year old girl is standing in front of you, clutching her copy of your book where you wrote and published the scene, “he buried in to the hilt and roared. Over and over he spilled inside of her, the lightning outside flashing soft and lovely long after he stilled.”

Look me in the eye and tell me that shit is appropriate in the YA genre. At all. Ever.

You wanna write romance? Go for it. It can be cute! It can be healthy! It can be intriguing! But this? This? This is just... erotica. If you’re publishing stuff like this in the YA genre, in a book that isn’t even on the ‘tween/teen romance’ shelves, then you better be ready to take full responsibility for teaching 10 year olds what a blowjob is, what an orgasm is, what BDSM is, what a fucking foot fetish is.

I know JK Rowling isn’t the most popular right now, but even she did better than this. The first 3 Harry Potter books you can generally find on the children’s/middle grade shelves. They were cute, fun little adventures about wizards and magic and fantastic creatures. Books 4-7? Those are on the YA shelves. People are dying, magic is dangerous, fascist organizations are on the rise -- it isn’t fun for Harry anymore. It isn’t about the wonders of magic. It’s about life or death, war, and fear. So yeah, of course those book aren’t going to be on the children’s/middle grade shelves! They’re dark! They’re scary! That kind of material shouldn’t be advertised as appropriate for younger kids!

Maas never extended that courtesy. Maas took her books full of badly written erotica and plopped them down right where all the rest of the completely tame YA books went, because she wanted the sales. She didn’t care if she was exposing kids who were too young to explicit sex scenes. She never posted a disclaimer, she never posted any kind of warning on social media when the books came out. Nope. She just silently took advantage of the market knowing she’d get more sales in YA. But it has no place in YA. It’s not YA. And I don’t think I’m ever gonna be okay with that.

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Reason 4: Diversity? Never heard of it!

Maas’ books are so incredibly white and straight that it’s painful. Rowan and Aelin? White and straight. Feyre? Rhysand? Chaol? Dorian? Manon? Hey, you guessed it! They’re all white and straight (despite Chaol, Dorian, and Manon being heavily LGBT+ coded for like, the entire series till the last book)!

“He looked at his friend, perhaps for the last time, and said what he had always known, from the moment they met, ‘I love you.’” (Queen of Shadows)

Hello? Sarah Jane? I’m all for male friendships, but there’s male friendships and then there’s actual romance. Chaol and Dorian are about as gay-coded as they could fucking get. And this isn’t even the only time this happens! Check this out:

“Dorian surged from his chair and dropped to his knees beside the bed. He grabbed Chaol’s hand, squeezing it as he pressed his brow against his. ‘You were dead,’ the prince said, his voice breaking. ‘I thought you were dead.’” (Queen of Shadows)

But wait, there’s more!

“‘I’m not leaving you. Not again.’

Dorian’s mouth tightened. ‘You didn’t leave, Chaol.’ He shook his head once, sending tears slipping down his cheeks. ‘You never left me.’” (Queen of Shadows)

I mean come on, Sarah!

Also, Manon. My girl Manon hated men, pretty explicitly, for the entire series. In case you don’t believe me:

“There were few sounds Manon enjoyed more than the groans of dying men.” (Heir of Fire)

Oh, and other characters even imply Manon has never had a heterosexual relationship in her fucking life. See:

“‘That golden-haired witch, Asterin...’ Aelin said. ‘She screamed Manon’s name the way I screamed yours. How can I take away somebody who means the world to someone else? Even if she is my enemy.’” (Queen of Shadows)

Tell me that’s not gay as fuck. I dare you.

Manon had a whole lot of love to give women! She was always affectionate towards other women. Particularly Elide. This is a woman who was about as lesbian as you could get. Had no interest in men, every interest in women, rejected typically expected roles for women (getting married and having kids, etc.) but guess what happened? Guess what fucking happened?

This warrior who was friends with and rode on a big fuckoff wyvern completely and totally submits to Dorian as her lover. I don’t mean that metaphorically. They literally do some BDSM shit where he’s her “master” and she “kneels to him” or whatever the fucking fuck. This entire thing pissed me off more than Chaol and Dorian being all “no homo bro,” because Maas used every possible symbol and subtext for Manon being gay, and then said “just kidding!” Her relationship with Dorian came out of nowhere. All of a sudden she was just as thirsty for mediocre dick as Aelin.

At this point I honestly have to wonder if Maas is really this ignorant or if she’s - dare I say it? - taunting her readers who have complained about the lack of LGBT+ representation. Maas has, historically, not reacted well to people criticizing her work. I would not put it beyond her at all to intentionally queer-code characters only to turn around and rip the rug out from under her readers by pairing them up in heterosexual relationships. And not only is that shitty writing, but it’s... really malicious and rude.

Of course then there’s the issues with racial representation. Again, Maas doesn’t even try. She includes 13 characters of color only to immediately kill off all of them in a suicide pact. So there’s that. Not sure I need to say more than that.

Maas knows what diversity is, but as per her famous quote, “I just don’t want to force diversity into my books.” So. Y’know. Writing a black or gay character (or!! God forbid, both black and gay!!) is asking a little too much of her, apparently. She doesn’t want to force anything as unbelievable as someone who isn’t white or straight, don’tcha know? In these books about fae people and dragons and gods fighting mortals and explicit erotica, an LGBT+ character or a character of color is high fantasy, not YA. *Sarcasm*

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Reason 5: The woman can’t write.

This is pretty straightforward. She cannot write. My proof? She plagiarizes the living fuck out of everything she can to avoid actually writing her own original work.

1. “You’re gonna rattle the stars.” - from Disney’s Treasure Planet

2. “The Queen Who Was Promised” - from GRRM’s ASOIAF, where Dany Targaryen is often toted as the exact same thing. Oh, and The Prince Who Was Promised prophecy in ASOIAF also mentions Azor Ahai being “the Heir of Fire” so, uh.... yeah.

3. Aelin basically being Aragorn. Lost royalty spends years as an outcast, denies their claim, teams up with elves (fae in Aelin’s case) to defeat a greater evil, becomes known as the people’s champion, falls in love with an elf (fae) and makes them their consort, crowned by the people, ends their coronation scene with a “you bow to no one” (I’m not kidding).

4. Nehemia dying for Aelin and it later being revealed that Nehemia was “grooming” Aelin to face great evil, and potentially give her life to stop it. How much you wanna bet Maas tried to give Aelin a name as close to “Harry Potter” as she could get?

5. Manon lighting a series of beacons across a mountain range to call for aid during war. I mean seriously? This is one of the most iconic scenes in Peter Jackson’s rendition of Lord of the Rings. It’s moving, it’s powerful, it’s awe-inspiring. And Maas knew it. So she just... took it. I don’t have a lot of respect for writers who can’t write their own moving scenes.

6. Kingsflame blossoms, which only bloom when the rightful monarch is on the throne. So... the White Tree of Gondor. Got it.

7. The Hand of the King being a royal court position. Like... jesus. GRRM, come get ya world-building, SJ stole it again.

8. A paralyzed Chaol has a specialized saddle made for him, because he wants more than anything to ride a horse again. GRRM! Please! She’s taking Bran Stark’s story now!

And besides all of these horribly plagiarized points, there’s nothing even slightly compelling about these books. There’s literally zero substance, and the last few books in both the ACOTAR and ToG series have been nothing but a smut-fest. Plot who? We don’t know her.

Trauma, both physical and mental, is erased at the drop of a dime (Aelin lost physical scars, Chaol’s paralysis was basically cured, series of events that should’ve left characters absolutely fucked just... didn’t phase them). The battles are rushed and sloppily written, and Maas has a particularly nasty habit of focusing on exactly the wrong people in the middle of what should be an action packed scene. Instead of showing alliances forging and plots being made behind people’s backs, instead of showing us people gearing up for battle by saying tearful goodbyes to their infants and spouses, Maas shows us Rowan and Aelin banging on a beach, or a tree, or a ship, or wherever the fuck they happen to be at that moment.

None of these characters lose jack shit. There is no sense of urgency or stakes, because we knew since Heir of Fire that Aelin and her precious uwu fae “mate” would be just fine. Why? Because nobody shipped Rowaelin as hard as Sarah Jane Maas did. Consistently the only people who suffer in these books are background characters (who, coincidentally, are almost always the characters of color and LGBT+ characters). By the end of Kingdom of Ash, literally everyone is fine. And paired off to be married, too! Because a happy ending isn’t a true happy ending if it doesn’t end with Babies Ever After and everyone in a heterosexual relationship, of course, right?

                                                        ***********

Reason 6: World-building doesn’t even go here! Sorry, she just wanted to be a part of something.

Maas’ world-building is... how do you say... shitty. New lore pops up in every book, having never been mentioned before, and is for some reason of utmost importance (but only for this book. It’ll be forgotten again as soon as it isn’t relevant). Religions who? Culture where? History what? None of these things exist in Maas’ world. None.

Now before anyone jumps down my throat with “but The World of Throne of Glass is coming out this year!!!1!1!!” let me gently establish something. Speaking as a fantasy author: if you do not have your most basic world-building - that being religion, culture, language, and history - already established, then you have no business making a “world of” book to cover all the bases your ass never bothered with in the original series.

I said what I said.

Tolkien and GRRM are masters of world-building because they spent decades working to forge their worlds before they ever put a pen to paper and wrote their stories. Not to toot my own horn, but my own fantasy series has been developing for almost 7 years now. What am I doing with it? I’m outlining governments in different societies, why people came to worship what they do, and I’m making a fucking world map on my bedroom floor (that now has cat paw prints on it, so it’s not exactly final product material anyway).

I give not a single hoot for Maas’ “The World of Throne of Glass.” She could be saying anything she wanted to and it would all just have to be canon, because she’s establishing what this world is after already finishing her series. Yes, it does piss me off, because it’s pretty obvious she didn’t have a clue what her world was, or who was who, or why things were the way they were. She made shit up as she went along, nothing more. There was no grand scheme. There was no planning, and it shows.

                                                       ***********

TL;DR: I have a lot of issues with Sarah J Maas’ writing, including her world-building and handling of diversity. But most of all I despise the potential impact she has on the YA genre and on the young girls reading her work. They deserve better than this. They deserve better than Sarah Jane Maas.

[stainandscribble]

Mocha

Pairing: Jongdae (EXO Chen) X Reader feat. EXO

Genre: Coffee Shop AU, fluff, one shot, 

Summary: Two years ago you published your first poetry anthology, and since then your publisher and editor have been pestering you for another one. Forced to work towards a deadline, you find a nice little coffee shop, and just as you set off to write your second masterpiece, a certain barista catches your eye, or rather the book he is reading does. Will inspiration find you among the coffee foam?

A/N: Excuse my poor attempts at poetry. Enjoy!

Word Count: 4426

You sat in front of the desk in the cluttered office, your editor’s work space littered with manuscripts and unsigned contracts.

The editor sat at the desk, looking through her computer, ready to whine about your lack of submissions recently.

The publishing company had asked for you to complete another anthology after the first one had turned out to be a hit. But that was two years ago, and they were rather impatient for your second book. You wanted to give them another anthology. Truly. But there was just one problem. You had no idea what to write about. You had finished your literature degree last year and proceeded to work full time as a journalist, reviewing books and reporting on other writers. Your name had faded from the spotlight shortly after the first book. Now you worked behind the scenes, pushing forward other writers, helping them to not fade the way you did.

But that was not satisfactory for your editor, who had encouraged you several times to pick up the pen. You just could not make yourself do it. No words spilled from your fingers. This time, the inkwell had run out, and you were in desperate need of inspiration and motivation.

Ironic, since you had spent every waking moment focused on writers and writing.

“Y/N,” Susan looked at you pointedly, “Just thirty poems.” She was practically begging, but you knew that she was your biggest support right now, so you kept quiet.

“Don’t you have anything at all?” She asked once more, and you cowered slightly under her intense gaze. The problem was not that you didn’t have anything, it was that you didn’t have anything that was appropriate for publication. Sure, poets are supposed to bare their soul for everyone to see in their work, but you wanted to be comfortable with what you put out. After two years, you wanted to come back like a breath of fresh air, the cool yet fragrant breeze of spring.

“I have a few.” You finally surrendered, thinking about the three poems that were acceptable enough to be made public.

“We can make those work. Just make up the number.” Susan’s mood instantly brightened at the news.

“How much time would you give me?” You asked, much more positive than when your editor was glaring daggers at you from the other side of the desk. Sometimes vising Susan’s office was on par with visiting the headmaster, if not worse. 

“Four months. That is the most I can offer you.” The dark-haired woman looked at you over her specs, her whole body showing she was back to talking business.

“I can try.” You reassured her, but it felt more like reassuring yourself. It had been two years. You sincerely doubted any one who once liked your poetry had long since moved on and would not even recognise your name on the book cover.

“Fine. Go.” Susan stood up and urged you out of her office. “Go. Find some inspiration while you’re at it. Go out, get drunk. Do something.” She insisted, waving goodbye as you disappeared down the corridor.

“Can I get a cappuccino?” You asked the smiling barista, who happened to be incredibly handsome, with soft features, full cheeks and cat-like eyes. His eyes were shining brightly when he saw you.

“Sure.” He smiled a bright smile before he turned to his work station.  The café was quiet, the only noises were the soft instrumental music in the background and the tinkering of the barista.

“Thanks.” You muttered when the barista set the coffee in front of you. You managed to get a look at his nametag and made the conscious effort to remember his name: Minseok.  

You took it to an empty table and sat down in one of the plush sofas, surrounding yourself with the variety of cushions. Everything in this coffee shop had a beige-brown aesthetic going on, broken at times by the lush green of the plants the baristas were cultivating. You could see various ferns, a few Christmas cactuses were in fool bloom, as well as a couple of azaleas. Despite the cold and harsh winter outside, the flowering plants had made the inside of the quiet coffee shop feel like spring, and you felt right at home in the calm and inviting atmosphere. After sipping on some of the coffee you ordered, you got to work, bringing out your laptop and a scrap notebook you used for ideas.

Three coffees later, you had gotten about two poems in, and they weren’t even that good. Mostly, your time in Black Pearl had consisted of staring at a blank notebook and stealing glances at the other patron sitting in the coffee table next to yours.

“Are you okay? You have sat here for five hours now.” He turned to you, breaking you out of your own thoughts.

“Is that a problem?” You asked, and your voice held a little too much attitude.

“No. It’s just a little unusual.” He answered, smiling, the corners of his lips turning upwards. His straight brows accentuated the unwavering gaze that rested on you. This man looked like he could have sonnets silently calling out his name, whatever it was. His golden skin reminded you of all the poems you have read about the sun, golden and glistening.

“What is that, a thesis?” He pointed out the blank word file on your laptop, one of his eyebrows had risen to accentuate the question that fell from his lips.

“No. I’m not a student.” You answered, his voice cutting your thoughts short.

“Work?” The handsome stranger leaned a little closer towards you. To be quite honest, you were enjoying the break he was giving you from ogling at the blank screen in a feeble attempt to come up with some ideas.

“Yeah. Second job.” You told him, and his demeanour changed from playfulness to pity. He looked at you apologetically, probably thinking that this job was a nightmare, since you were sitting, working for a solid five hours on a Sunday. He would not be far off. With the deadline looming over you, it felt like you were a part of some thriller.

“Tough” He shook his head, looking at you in disbelief, with a hint of awe in his warm brown eyes, glistening in the soft light. All you could do is compare them to the bindings of old books, the kind you hold gently in your hands, the kind you run the tips of your fingers over, feeling the soft material that has preserved the words inside for far longer than you had been on this blue little planet.

“You have no idea.” You muttered, still lost in the depths of his eyes, found again only when he looked away.

He returned to his book, and as you turned to your coffee cup, you almost did a double take. There, this handsome man had hidden himself behind a book you were far too familiar with.

“Leaving and Returning” The tittle read, and your name screamed at you like a painful reminder of the blue ink that had once stained your fingers. Your first anthology.  

“Hey Jongdae! Want another coffee?” You watch as Minseok calls out into the almost empty shop, and the man that had just spoken to you lifts his eyes from the pages and smiles brightly at the barista.

“Make me a mocha!” he calls out, and the two exchange smiles before returning to their tasks.

A few more hours pass by, and its has long since turned dark outside. You gather your things, ready to return to your home and call it quits for today.

“You’re leaving?” The man, Jongdae, has asked, rising one eyebrow in question.

“Yeah, I have to catch the bus home. Bye.” You give him a little wave and a small smile, which he reciprocates with a grin.

“Bye!” he calls out behind you just before the door closes.

Jongdae watches as you leave, smiling to himself. Today had been a nice day. There were very few customers that passed through the shop today, and he had the pleasure of reading his favourite book whilst sipping on Minseok’s coffee, which by all means could be called divine. There was only one thing that puzzled him about you; the way you had sneaked glances at the book he was reading, and the fact that he could swear he saw you scowl at it at one point. Did you really hate the poet so much? What did the poor college student do to you? 

It has been about a week since you had visited the coffee shop, and within that time you had allowed your publishing company to announce that you were writing again.

“Fine. Announce that I am writing another one.” You had told Susan during one of your visits to her office. You were ten poems in, and you had scrutinised every word you had put down at least thrice. It was a good time to announce your come back into the poetry scene.

And so, your publishing had put out a statement saying you were coming out with a new anthology, and that more information would be announced at the beginning of April, still four months away. This meant that your deadline had shortened slightly, but that was good enough for you.

It was another slow day at the Black Pearl, and around lunch time the guys had gathered around the empty tables, huddling over steaming cups of tea and coffee with various snacks sprawled between them. Jongdae was checking his phone, smiling to himself.

“What are you so happy about?” Minseok asked, looking at him over his coffee cup.

“His favourite poet is writing another anthology.” Jongin answered for him, looking over Jongdae’s shoulder at his phone screen, where the publishing company had announced that Y/N is writing another anthology, and that more information should come out in early April. Jongdae himself was grinning from ear to ear at the news. He had read all the poems Y/N had put out, including the anthology, as well as the various poems that had been published as parts of collections and in writing magazines. He had kept all the excerpts safe in a notebook.

“That’s the big deal?” Chanyeol asked, his mouth full of food.

“This is her second anthology. And it took her two years to announce she is writing again.” Jongdae had answered, looking up from his phone, and reaching over to grab another handful of crisps.

“Why do you think she stopped?” Kyungsoo sips on his coffee, pulling the stained copy of the first anthology towards him. He flicks through the pages, stopping from time to time to scan over the black inky print.

“She wrote it in college.” Jongdae responds, and the guys nod in understanding, fully aware of how hard and demanding degrees are, and just how drained student can be. They used to be students themselves after all, and they had seen students in their café, sitting for hours on end, writing up assignments and essays and reports, fuelled only by coffee and desperation.

“She probably had other things to worry about than some rhymes.” Kyungsoo concludes, putting the book back on the table.

“So, I guess the Chalkboard will have poetry verses again.” Baekhyun mutters, shoving forkfuls of strawberry cake into his mouth, washing it all down with some sweet tea.

The next morning, Chanyeol and Junmyeon find Jongdae slouched over the blackboard with a chalk pen, making sure his calligraphy looks perfect.

“I will bloom,

In the most unexpected places,

My roots will break through into the soil

You cannot be rid of me.”

The white chalk read, and the guys leaned over Jongdae to see better.

“Nice.” Junmyeon commented, tying the black apron around his waist as Chanyeol started setting up for the day. Today just happened to be the day before new year’s, and many people had come to the town for the night life. This meant that soon their coffee shop would be busy again with people coming in for morning coffee.

“Let’s decorate the shop with some flowers while we are at it.” Chanyeol called out from behind the counter, holding up some vases that they had stashed away in a spare cupboard.

“Get Yixing to do it.” Jongdae tells them as he places the blackboard in its designated spot.

“I’ll call him.” Junmyeon pulls out his phone. It would be the most convenient to ask Yixing seeing as he was still on the way here and could get the flowers on the way. 

“Make sure he gets at least three bouquets!”  Chanyeol calls out before he disappears in the storage room. 

“Oh No.” You muttered. It was nine thirty in the morning and you were already fed up.

“My youth still haunts me.” You mumbled bitterly at the chalkboard sign at the entrance of the Black Pearl, that had become like your second home over the last few weeks. There, written beautifully in white chalk, was your poem, glaring at you, silently judging you gawked at it.

“Do you know the poet?” The barista looks at you with a smile on his face, clearly happy that you had recognised the poem.

“Yeah. I’ve read a few of her poems.” You mutter, hoping that he will not try to continue this conversation. You were not in the mood to talk about your past writing. Especially not this early in the day.

“She recently announced she is writing again.” The barista continued, attempting to lure you into the conversation.

“Jongdae over here is having a breakdown over the announcement.” He pointed at another barista. And to your surprise, it just so happened to be the man that had silently accompanied you from a few seats away for the last few weeks you had been visiting the café. You smiled awkwardly, acknowledging them both, before the barista motioned for you to give him your order.

“One mocha please.” You told him, still a little awkward. Jongdae got to work, and after waiting a few minutes, you received your coffee. You thanked him, before going to sit in your usual spot, which was thankfully vacant. Since it was just before New Year’s, the town was bustling with people, and so was the café that had been practically empty for the few weeks you have been here.  Once you were seated, you look at your coffee, and to your astonishment, the milk foam had a snowflake pattern on top. It looked very pretty, and you thanked Jongdae silently for drawing it for you.

The snowflake, jogs your memory, takes you back to the time when you were a child, and the snow was magic. You remember joy, and weightlessness, and your grandmother putting your clothes to dry on the radiator. You remember the simple joys of childhood, the ones that you pushed away when writing the first time. But this time, you won’t make the same mistake. So, you write, frantic not lose your thoughts to slow moving hands. You write about the softness of the snow, and you write about love, warm and gentle, taking you back into her arms again and again.

“Hello.” Jongdae broke you out of your frantic train of thought, smiling at you brightly, his teeth showing.

“Hi.” You told him, a soft smile spreading on your lips.

“How is the work going.” He asked, but instead of looking at your notebook, he looks over at your untouched coffee.

“It’s going well.” You told him, happy about the progress. He flashed you another smile, before it fades away.

“Do you not like the coffee?” he asked, concern thick in his voice. You wanted to laugh. You look over to the untouched cup, and know that it is probably strange to him, that you had not taken even a sip yet.

“It’s been an hour.” He informed you as you stared at the cup.

Sheepish, you gave him a little smile. “I got lost in my work.”

“I’ll make you a fresh one.” He smiled, before picking up the cup and walking behind the counter.

“Thank you.” You smiled when he brought you a fresh cup, Jongdae flashed you a grin in return, before settling at the table beside yours, and pick up his book. This time, it was not your anthology. The white cover read “The Sun and her Flowers” and you smiled excitedly. It was one of your favourite anthologies. Jongdae noticed and sat at your table, discussing it with you over fresh coffee. You stayed like that until it was time for you to catch the bus home. 

The boys were closing up Black Pearl, sitting around the cleared tables, this time they had devoured a pumpkin pie, and only a slice remained for Junmyeon, who had left to sort out things with their accountant.

“The roast you brought is good.” Minseok complimented Yixing, who was making himself an americano.

“I want an affogato while you are at it.” Baekhyun called out, leaning back in his chair.

“You are a barista why can’t you make it yourself?” Jongdae told him without looking as he continued to water the plants.

“Because food tastes better when someone else makes it for you.” Baekhyun whined, and Jongdae smiled to himself, as an idea popped into his head.

Ten minutes later, him and Kyungsoo were hiding behind the counter, laughing.

“This will be hilarious.” Kyungsoo laughs, his shoulders shaking, as he looked down at the café affogato standing on the counter as Jongdae put a little tub into a cupboard.

Baekhyun picked up the coffee dessert and a spoon, oblivious to the eyes that follow him. 

“What is this?” He whined, spitting the dessert into a napkin. 

Kyungsoo and Jongdae burst out laughing. 

“Shortening.” Jongdae exclaimed, informing his friend gleefully that he got it from Baekhyun’s girlfriend next door. 

“The look on your face is worth wasting the coffee beans.” Kyungsoo told him, as the other guys laughed, Chanyeol going as far as to hit Jongin in the arm.

“You are so mean!” Baekhyun shouted.

You had come back to Black Pearl a week after New Year’s. This time Jongdae had drawn a tulip into your milk foam. It was a pretty little flower, complete with long leaves. When his shift finished, he had sat at your table, the coffee stained anthology under his arm, and throughout the rest of the day you had gotten lost in the scattered papers and various redrafts. That night, Jongdae and his co-workers had invited you to stay with them after closing and had even given you a slice of apple pie they had been given by Baekhyun’s girlfriend. You had stayed so late in fact, that you were about to miss the last bus home. In the rush of goodbyes, and putting your things away, you had lost track of what you had taken, and what had stayed behind on accident.

And fate just had it that you had left something very important.

When Jongdae returned home from work, he found that the copy of Leaving and Returning was not coffee stained like his was. The cover had its original colour, it was a little worn out, and the binding had gone soft after being bent too often. There was not a single stain on it. He did discover, when he had flicked through the pages, that they were not clean.

Jongdae knew this book was yours, since you were the one that stayed behind with them. You had become a regular, and Jongdae had taken a liking to you. You enjoyed the same books, you both liked flowers, and he thought you were lovely over all.  So, when he got your book in his hands, he flicked through it, just out of curiosity. He didn’t really expect to find anything, initially. Plenty of pencil annotations littered every page. Some words and verses had been highlighted with a pastel highlighter.  His warm brown eyes fell on a single line, at the very end of the book.

“I shall return to you like a spring breeze, and you will see me in the blooming flowers, as I, like all else, am born anew.”

That was when it hit him. You were Y/N. The author who wrote the anthology was Y/N Y/L/N.

Jongdae started laughing, shaking his head in disbelief. How could he not realise this before?

He had watched you stop and stare at the chalkboard, he had watched you for weeks as you drafted and redrafted work, writing your second anthology. With all this evidence before him, he had just never connected the dots. Who would? 

The next morning Jongdae watched you walk into the shop, eyes searching frantically for something, until they fell on him. He didn’t know why his heart started beating, a little faster, a little stronger than he was used to, or why his usual easy going nature escaped him for a split second, but he did know that when you did walk up to him, a copy of his anthology in your hands and a sheepish smile on your lips, he was braver than when he woke up this morning.

 “Sorry I took your book by accident.” You told him, passing him the worn, think book. He took it from you, smiling happily.

“I took yours, Y/N” He had reached over the counter to give you back your equally worn out copy. Jongdae gave you a knowing smile, his eyes glinting as they looked over your face.

Your eyes widened in realisation that he knew. Jongdae knew who you were. He knew that that book he has read time and time again, the one he stained with coffee and softened with use, was yours. You had written it.

“It’s okay, since we managed to return them to their rightful owners.” You told him, mimicking his knowing smile, noticing that over his shoulder, the other two baristas, Yixing and Chanyeol, were watching your interaction with curious gazes.

“It’s her.” Yixing mumbled.

“I told you!” Chanyeol exclaimed, a little too loudly, but you and Jongdae paid him no mind.

“I was right.” Chanyeol repeated, this time quieter, making the both of you laugh. Sheepish, Chanyeol and Yixing returned to their work, laughing quietly.

“All those scattered papers, they were poems, weren’t they?” Jongdae asked, sitting you both down at an empty table.

“Yes.” You answered quietly, apprehensive about what is to come next.

“Were any of them love poems?” He asked, and you smiled at the unexpected question. Of all the things you thought could be possible, that was not a question you were prepared for.

“A few.” You looked away from him, a light blush dusting your cheeks.

“Who did you write them to?” He asked, a playful smirk graced his lips, as his eyebrow rose, inviting you to answer.

“You’ll just have to find out, won’t you?” you replied, a smile playing on your lips.

Over the following months, you and Jongdae continued your usual routine. He read beside you, as you wrote. You two drank coffee together, and even went out for food a couple times. From time to time, the guys from Black Pearl invited you out to their get togethers, usually when Baekhyun’s girlfriend came with him. They were all lovely, and not to mention hilarious when left alone without supervision.

Soon enough, the weather warmed up, spring passed, and summer came in full glory, golden rays falling down from the sky as you sat outside of the café, enjoying the affogato without the burden of deadlines looming over your head.

Jongdae had just returned from somewhere, and he stopped by your table before entering the café.

“Here.” You handed him a little package wrapped in light pink paper “It’s a present.”

He smiled at you, unwrapping the gift, before looking back at you. wrapped in the pink paper was your second anthology – Love and Revelation. The off-white cover had an illustration of a bouquet on it, stylised to imitate art on milk foam.

“Turn to page 47” You told him, smiling at the expression of utter awe and adoration painted over his sharp features.

“The Love – Coffee stains” He read aloud, before losing his voice completely at the words, printed in black ink on the page.

“The smell of coffee surrounds me,

And I am reminded of you,

Of how your passion leaves physical stains on books,

I stand astonished

Of your warmth,

Of the colour of your hair,

And the hue of your eyes,

Sparkling amber,

Coffee boy,

Golden man,

Ask me again who the love poems are for.

         -       I have written all of them thinking of you. “

The warmth that spread through his whole body rivalled the summer heat, and he was set on fire in the gentlest way possible.

“Is that what it feels like to be loved by a poet?” Jongdae murmured, looking from the book to you. You stand up to match him, taking a careful step closer, before whispering against his lips.

“If you allow the poet to love you.”

“Depends.” He answers, his lips softly brushing yours as he speaks.

“Will she accept my love in return?” He wonders, looking you straight in the eyes, and you can see the confidence gleaming in them, warming you up from the inside as your cheeks turn red. You both laughed, and when you are done, you took the first step, confidence matching Jongdae’s as you kissed him, lips pressed firmly against his own. You were unwavering, sure of your love for him, and his love for you.

“Love and Revelation” Jongdae muttered against your lips and were left breathless when he kissed fully.

“What a good title.” He concluded, looking deep into your eyes, seeing the love they held for him, drinking the sight in the same way he drank coffee.

[florrickandassociates]

TGF Thoughts: 3x01-- The One About The Recent Troubles

HI GUYS I WROTE A LOT 

New season, new naming convention. Well, it’s either that or Diane Lockhart’s joined a reboot of Friends. Jokes aside, I don’t love the new naming convention (I never watched Friends) but I don’t dislike it either. It’s fine. What I do like is that we’ve dropped any sort of counting (unless you consider “the one” counting). (I am just now realizing that last season’s episode titles were more in the TGW tradition than I thought-- they were just another form of counting). Three seasons in, TGF is its own show (with its own titles!), and that makes me very happy.

I’m about to hit play on my third viewing of this episode. I watched at 5 am on the day it was released (worth it, tbh), then again with my roommate after work that same day.

This year’s previously montage works better than last year’s, but I still don’t love it. The selection of clips seems a little random at first: Liz talking about her father? The Assholes to Avoid case that I was hoping to avoid thinking about ever again? Okay…?

It’s time for some tone-setting! “I’m happy,” Diane states as the season opens. She’s in bed with Kurt, waking up in the morning. This is one of those statements that becomes important mostly because it’s so prominent. I believe that Diane’s happy with her life and happy waking up next to her husband, but I don’t think Diane is trying to make a Thesis Statement. I think she’s just expressing that she feels good. The writers, however, definitely want us to note that Diane starts out the season in a good, happy place. This is because they are going to slowly complicate and destroy Diane’s happiness. That’s not a spoiler-- it’s a prediction.

Kurt laughs. “You like narrating your life,” he comments. Interesting.

“You know, there are psychological studies that say, when people are happy, they look desperately for things to make them unhappy. But that won’t happen to us, will it?” Diane wonders. Of course it will. I know these writers. If there’s one thing they hate it’s writing more than a few scenes of a healthy marriage.

Diane and Kurt’s new bedroom confuses me. It has an arch that seems very low and I can’t tell if that’s the angle or not. Also, we only see the area with the bed, the bathroom, and a large sitting room in this episode. It would make sense for Diane to have a bedroom suite and a separate living room/dining room/kitchen, but the way this episode is shot makes it feel like Diane and Kurt only have that one space.

Now Diane’s asking Kurt for reassurance that everything’s going to be alright, and she seems moderately worried that he doesn’t sound certain when he responds. Maybe there are still some issues there…?

“What could go wrong?” Kurt asks, and right on cue, shit starts to blow up. (By which I mean the title sequence rolls.)

New objects/shots this year include: A tea set, aerial shots of a wine bottle, coffee cups (they discovered aerial shots this year and clearly liked them a lot), the same four purses from last year but arranged differently (looks cooler now), new images on the TV (bye, tiki torch nazis), and the entire set where they staged the explosions.

The third co-creator is still listed, because his name will be attached to this show for as long as it runs, but I really want to know: what did Phil Alden Robinson even do to create the show? Invent the basic sketch of the premise and the new characters? Just today I saw him credited in an article praising season 3, and it’s my understanding that he hasn’t even touched TGF since the pilot, back before the Kings signed on.

The Kings wrote this episode, but I didn’t need the credits to tell me that. Robert directed, too, which is only surprising because I wasn’t sure if it would be him or if it would be Brooke Kennedy.

Complaining about this now before I get any farther into the episode: CBS, FIX YOUR CLOSED CAPTIONING. Someone over at All Access doesn’t believe in apostrophes and it’s driving me up a wall.

After the credits, we resume with Julius talking about Carl Reddick, founding partner of RBL and civil rights icon. Julius has to be prompted to add on that last part, but Lucca doesn’t: she read about Reddick in history books.

Lucca’s dress for the interview shouldn’t work, but she pulls it off. It has several different colors and patterns, big gold buttons, and a ruffle down one side.

Here’s Liz’s comment on her father: “When my father died, I could think of no better way to honor his life than by taking over his partnership here.” We know that’s only partially true.

Next up is Reddick’s secretary of 15 years. She refers to him as “Mr. Reddick” instead of “Carl” and seems uncomfortable talking about her experience. Jay and Marissa, who have for some reason been tasked with creating promotional materials for the firm, notice her hesitance. Marissa asks what a typical day was like, and the secretary-- Cynthia-- starts to cry.

Cut to the RBL website, which is very boring and generic. “Who are you?” a publicity consultant asks Adrian and Liz. This reminds me of two things: one, Diane and Will’s conversation in season 4 about firm identity, and two, the fact that Hitting the Fan started off with the line “You’re stable.” Isn’t that very reminiscent of this episode starting off with, “I’m happy.”?! Yikes, we must be in for a ride…

Adrian’s answer is that they are a “mid-size Chicago law firm.” Really? That’s all you’ve got? The consultant pushes further-- he wants their story. Liz says their story is that they’re growing with new hires and a new floor. The consultant isn’t happy with that, either, because he seems to believe there’s only one right answer: they’re an African American firm, and that is their entire identity. Ugh.

When TGF first started, RBK felt like a firm that had an identity  and a mission-- a commitment to giving black lawyers opportunities for success in an environment where no one would be a token, coupled with a strong focus on civil rights cases (particularly police brutality cases). I assumed that was the shared goal of Carl, Adrian, and Barbara, but the firm’s gone through enough changes that I’m willing to accept that RBL might now be struggling for an identity. Carl’s dead, Barbara was always the one who would actually put her money where her mouth is (sorry, Adrian), Diane is (as always) interested in being profitable while looking like a liberal legend, and Liz accepted partnership because it was a lucrative offer that fell into her lap right when she lost her job at the DOJ.

Adrian says he doesn’t want RBL to be sold as an African American law firm. Hasn’t he pitched it as such in the past?

“Diversity is in right now. Black Panther. Black-ish. And diversity is something you have in sp-- in abundance,” the consultant says. My God, he’s terrible. He’s also using “diverse” and “black” as interchangeable words.

Adrian gets a reprieve when Jay and Marissa call him out of his meeting, but it doesn’t last long. Cynthia, Carl’s secretary, told Jay and Marissa that Carl repeatedly sexually assaulted her.

“He forced her for 15 years? Why would Cynthia stay for 15 years?” Adrian asks incredulously. “Seriously?” Marissa replies. Woah there. I agree wholeheartedly with Marissa but just because I’d write “SERIOUSLY?” in a recap doesn’t mean I’d ever say it to a name partner with that tone! (But really: Marissa’s very right. “Why would she stay?” is a terrible argument. Cynthia had bills to pay and a family (or at least a daughter) to care for. She likely didn’t have the luxury of looking for a new job. And that’s setting aside the fact that for decades, language around sexual assault wasn’t widely known!)

Adrian asks Marissa and Jay to keep quiet, and Marissa pushes back, asking if it’s so they can cover it up. Marissa! You’re not helping your cause here!

“Marissa, I don’t have the luxury right now of being outraged. That doesn’t mean I’m not outraged,” Adrian explains.

In the hallway, Jay suggests that Marissa give Adrian (and Carl) a break, since the Reddick name brings in half of their business, and if Reddick’s name becomes toxic, the firm could be in trouble. “Well, then, maybe it should be,” Marissa responds.

I loooooooove Diane’s new hairstyle! It’s been ten years; it’s time for a change.

Diane is about to head into the office when she notices Kurt went hunting the previous night with a gun he hates. And to make matters worse, there are blonde hairs on his jacket and Kurt won’t admit he went shooting with anyone. Well, I guess Diane’s happiness didn’t last very long at all.

Maia has a scratched cornea, so she’s wearing big sunglasses. “I wouldn’t wear those when you meet with the partners,” Marissa says, planting a bad idea in Maia’s mind. The sunglasses take two seconds to explain, and no one is going to fault her for this. If Maia didn’t get fired for not doing any work over a two year period, she’s going to be just fine wearing medically-required sunglasses to an internal meeting.

Julius wants to talk to Maia and explains that on the new website, they’re adding associate and partner bios. They just might not be adding Maia’s. “Don’t take it as a criticism. You’re doing a great job,” Julius says. This is basically the only circumstance in which I understand giving Maia praise: trying to keep her from causing a scene by stroking her ego.

Since Maia took off her sunglasses, she now appears to be crying. Since Maia lacks common sense, she does not explain why she is crying, leading Julius to keep heaping on the praise and explain the obvious (it’s about her parents’ scandal). Maia says she understands and that “this is all medical.” THAT’S SO VAGUE, MAIA. You’re looking for the sentence you just said to Marissa: “I have a scratched cornea.” I know this moment is supposed to be funny. It just makes Maia look impressionable (she took off the glasses) and slow (she can’t easily navigate out of this situation when the exit route is obvious). I already think Maia is both of those things, so I’m not complaining about this scene (I did laugh!), it’s just…  Maia, why???

Julius is so confused by Maia’s odd reaction that he goes straight to Lucca’s office. Lucca is pumping and doesn’t care who sees, because she’s the fucking best. Julius asks Lucca to talk to Maia about the website.

Diane’s still thinking about the hair when she arrives at RBL. Marissa greets her with an empty mug, I mean, with coffee. Diane asks what Adrian wants to talk to her about, and Marissa says, “I’ve been told I speak too much, so I won’t handle that.” If Marissa weren’t so good at her job she’d need to watch out.

Marissa tries to join Adrian and Diane’s meeting, and Adrian slowly closes the door in her face. Marissa walks away. I love it when this show emphasizes that their main players aren’t all of equal status at the firm, and this episode does a fantastic job of showing it.

Adrian explains the Reddick issue to Diane. He’s (wisely) chosen to go to Diane before Liz about this.

Adrian’s plan is to have Cynthia sign an NDA, and now there’s a “Good Fight Short” to educate us about NDAs. God, this show is weird and I love it.

“Think they’re maybe always in a red folder but I didn’t do my research that well” cracks me up.

“Let’s try to count all the red folders in the show today. You know what who cares just pay attention, put your phone away,” the song continues. Okay, show, I’ll listen to you and put my phone (on which I’m watching this show) away and go run my errands. That’s what you wanted, right?

A storm rolls in as Adrian and Diane pay Cynthia a visit. Thunder is dramatic, in case you were unaware.

Adrian tells Cynthia he knew nothing about Reddick’s behavior. He reaches for the NDA a little too quickly and Diane slows things down.

Adrian promises they’ll have sexual harassment training moving forward. Cynthia reminds him that they’ve always had that-- but partners never attended. Or, apparently, remembered that it existed.

Diane and Adrian hear pots and pans banging in the kitchen and realize that Cynthia’s daughter is home. That complicates things because the daughter anticipates the NDA and doesn’t want her mom to sign.

When Cynthia leaves the room, Adrian comments to Diane that “this house, it reminds me of my aunty’s house.” Diane just smiles, probably because that’s a reference she can’t understand.

The partners hold a secret meeting without Liz, which is certainly a way to handle this but probably not the optimal way. Liz should know what’s going on before any NDAs concerning her firm are created.

Liz notices that the offices are empty, and asks Marissa (who’s walking past) where everyone is. “I have no idea. I’m just staying on the sidelines today,” Marissa says unhelpfully. Great attitude. Very professional. As you’d expect, Liz is not satisfied with that answer.

Downstairs, the MANY partners of RBL are debating next steps. Why do they always pack these partner meeting scenes with so damn many extras? How many partners am I meant to believe they have?!

As we learned in the Assholes to Avoid episode, the most interesting thing about #MeToo is that it’s controversial and leads people to talk over each other. That’s what’s happening in this scene, but it works far better than the show’s last attempt at showing this idea. Unsurprisingly, when they have more to say than just “controversial topic is controversial” they do better.

And, I’m not sure where to put it so I’ll just say it here, I think the Kings have more to say about #MeToo, and a new (and better) angle on it because it hit closer to home. This plot isn’t a reenactment of what happened with Moonves, but the ideas it explores? Once you think about Moonves and the role he had in bringing TGW to life (and keeping it on the air), it’s all you’ll see. This plot is the Kings reckoning with how to move forward and create distance after a powerful man in no small part responsible for their own success turns out to be a serial harasser.

And that’s so much more interesting than “what if we took the Aziz Ansari thing but removed all nuance?” TGW, and TGF, wouldn’t have existed without Les Moonves. I’m pretty certain I’ve heard the Kings and Julianna-- and probably other cast members-- speak glowingly about him (before the allegations, obvs). He allowed TGW to flourish (and TGF to exist, which is kind of amazing when you think about it) while also enabling sexual assault all throughout CBS.  

The reason for this meeting? Now they want to pay Cynthia off. Diane suggests letting the story surface, emphasizing that Carl did good things and bad things. Diane also, wisely, notes that if they pay someone off, then it becomes the whole firm’s problem. But it seems they might have already paid someone off, so it’s too little, too late. RBK had, in 2012, agreed to cover all of Reddick’s sexual harassment suits. (This is, apparently, “standard” for CEOs, barf.)

I’d still like to dig into Diane’s “just own it” idea a little more, but I do see why the other partners (the ones who were actually there for the bulk of the time Reddick was) shut it down.

Then Wendy, the stenographer, speaks up: Carl Reddick assaulted her, too. If there are two, there are more than two, and I’m surprised that Liz is the first person to suggest this.

At home, later, Diane scrolls through Netflix (not a streaming site, this is Netflix’s layout with different shows), unable to decide what to watch. I’m sad to report none of the fake shows are any fun, and none of them are Darkness at Noon. I guess Darkness at Noon is probably on AMC All Access, behind a paywall…

Kurt arrives home and asks what Diane’s doing. “Figuring out whether to watch a German series about serial killers or a Scandinavian series about serial killers,” Diane replies. Haven’t we all been there? That’s scrolling through Netflix in one sentence.

Diane has “helped” Kurt pack for a trip, and THANK GOD, she’s not kicking him out (that’s how scenes where the husband arrives home to find his bags packed always go). She’s passive-aggressively packing for his upcoming trip she discovered on their credit card account.

Kurt’s going on a safari. Diane says she doesn’t shoot anymore (I guess since 2x10?) and wants to know who Kurt’s going with. Shouldn’t Kurt be telling Diane if he’s going to go on a safari?

Kurt senses something’s up and asks what’s wrong. Diane says work has her thinking about “men.” Then she tells Kurt she doesn’t think he’s being honest and says she doesn’t like pretending to be the “cool wife who overlooks lies.” Is “Cool Wife” a variation of “Cool Girl” and if so, can we get a Gillian Flynn novel about it, please?

Finally, the truth emerges: Kurt isn’t hiding an affair (though Diane briefly suspects he’s seeing someone named “Holly Westfall” again… idk, have we ever heard that name? Nothing’s coming to mind, because Kurt never cheated on Diane and Peter’s trial never happened.). He’s giving private shooting lessons to 45’s sons.

My GOD, Diane’s reaction.

I love how every time Diane says “safari” she says it with a little more disbelief in her voice.

Kurt says this is just a job; he’s being paid. Can he take someone else’s money then? How strapped for cash is he? This is like the “we’re defense attorneys!” line Diane always goes back to. SURE, but you don’t have to take EVERY case to be profitable.

Diane proceeds to start BANGING HER HEAD AGAINST THE WALL, REPEATEDLY. This scene is simultaneously comedic, dramatic, and ridiculous and I love it. I’m not sure how it manages to feel far-fetched and also character-driven at the same time, but hey, it works.

Diane storms out, saying she’s going to do something she should’ve done nine months ago: conjure up space bugs. Okay, no, she’s making contact with her FuzzyFuzzyCuteCute friend, but she’s doing so in a way that involves moving lots of flowers to her windowsill, and THAT’S HOW YOU DRAW IN THE SPACE BUGS.

In case I haven’t said it enough times, TGF in some ways seems more like it’s a continuation of BrainDead than TGW.

Diane talks to Tara and asks her to break her NDA (some legal nonsense) and come forward with allegations that 45 paid for her abortion. Tara asks Diane why now, and Diane’s answer is kind of bullshit: “because now it’s personal.” And it wasn’t before?! And that matters?! (I believe it from Diane, but come on. You need it to be personal to fight this as hard as you can? The fact that this administration’s policies are having catastrophic effects on families isn’t enough?)

Adrian finally shows Liz the interview with Cynthia, and Audra McDonald could win an Emmy for her reaction shots alone (I can’t say enough times how pleased I am with the addition of Liz). Adrian draws the curtains of Will’s office, I mean Liz’s office, to give them some privacy. Good move.

Liz wants to know if Adrian knew, and she has good reasons to believe he might have. For one, when they were married, Adrian asked how her parents were doing-- suggesting they might have reason to not be doing so well.

Liz goes into her bathroom (first time we’ve seen this set, though we’ve obviously known it existed from ~Willicia sexytimes~) (Not to derail this recap entirely, but does anyone else ever wonder how Willicia would’ve played in this day and age? I wouldn’t consider it assault or harassment because it was obviously consensual, but I don’t know that you can do a boss/employee romance plot as easily today as you could in 2011.)

Liz, through tears, confesses that her father didn’t always treat her mom (or “us”-- I assume meaning Liz and any siblings she may have) well. She’d always rationalized it as the part of “sharing him with the world” while he was “fighting,” but “he was just here.” God, this is devastating, and this scene is spectacularly done.

Adrian tries to comfort Liz, but she realizes something: Adrian put in the glass walls. She wants to know why. Was he trying to force Carl to be more transparent about something? Liz remembers her dad complaining about the glass walls. Adrian says it was just a design choice. Liz doesn’t believe it, but she’s moved on to other things. She’s putting on her jacket and trying to decide her next move. She angrily opens up the curtains even though she’s about to leave her office (just to show that she values transparency) and marches down to the partner’s meeting.

Everyone quiets down when Liz walks in. She grabs a notepad and a chair and begins to take an active role in negotiating payouts. Julius mentions Wendy, and Liz didn’t know about Wendy yet. Her reaction? A long pause, and then: “My dad raped the stenographer?”

Have I mentioned yet that Audra’s great? She delivers the line with a fantastic blend of anger and resignation. And I love the line itself, particularly the use of the word “rape.” Aside from Cynthia’s daughter, Liz is the first person in the episode to call Carl’s actions what they are, and it’s meaningful to hear the word from her. Liz isn’t shying away from what her father did; she is trying to figure out how to name it and address it. Pretty remarkable.

Liz volunteers to make the deal with Cynthia. She immediately begins to ask Jay for help, but she thinks again and goes to Marissa instead (and says “rape” again) to find out if there are any others. Adrian and Diane should’ve had Marissa on this yesterday.

LUCCA!!!!!!!!!!

Sorry I’m just happy to see Lucca Quinn, who is the best and does not get nearly enough screentime. Because Lucca is the best, she’s meeting with the partners. She thinks something must be wrong-- that she’s about to be fired (no!!! I don’t even like thinking about that!!). But nothing is wrong. “In fact, consider this a promotion,” Adrian says. He offers Lucca the position of head of divorce law. (What are the odds we get through this arc without a cameo from David Lee?)

People who know more about the law than I do, is this even remotely plausible? Shouldn’t this be Lucca’s specialty if we’re going to see her head it up? Have we ever seen her on a divorce case?

The guy they had hired to head up divorce law had “harassment issues at his last firm.” “And that’s a problem these days?” Lucca jokes, not knowing just how bad her timing is. No one else laughs. (I! Love! Scenes! That! Show! That! Some! Of! The! Characters! Are! Junior! Staff!)

Lucca does not seem to want this promotion, but she realizes she’s being told, not asked.

Meanwhile, Maia’s spending her work day staring at the company website. Adrian stops by to see her (guess Lucca didn’t talk to her) and console her about the website. Maia now chooses to explain her scratched cornea. She doesn’t explain it clearly, so Adrian continues with his speech. “This is not a reflection of how we feel about you. It’s a branding thing.”

I suppose the same could also be said of the fact that the main poster for this season of TGF features Diane, Adrian, and Lucca when the first two seasons had posters featuring Diane, Maia, and Lucca. Maia adds less value, to the show and to the firm!!!!!

(I don’t hate this Maia plot, I just think it’s silly and unnecessary, and Maia’s still done nothing to prove to me that she’s interested in her job and/or good at it.)

“You keep up the good work,” Adrian says. Forget good work. What WORK?

The partners fussing over the website has made it a Big Deal for Maia, and now she’s pissed! Luckily, Marissa’s there to teach her how to be a badass.

“I’m a third year associate, and they are treating me like I was hired yesterday,” Maia fumes. Well, are you doing the work of a third year associate, or are you doing the “work” of a new hire who hasn’t yet been staffed on projects and just stares at the company website all day? Hmmmmm?

Marissa blames this on “the curse of short people.” Is Maia short? She’s never seemed short. Rose Leslie is, according to Google, 5’6”, which is hardly short! Then Marissa starts rambling about “the volcano of Vulcan” and, whatever, Marissa, I think Maia’s problem is that she has scumbag parents, not that she’s short.

Marissa’s advice-- which is basically to be more confident-- isn’t bad advice. But that’s not why Maia’s not on the website. Maia could be Lucca levels of incredible and her name would still look toxic on the website.

Maia’s so awkward she makes me look confident.

Marissa commands a “tall lady” not to wash her hands after using the bathroom and what, that’s gross, why are you doing this Marissa?

Marissa has a gift for Maia: Sunglasses that are “cool.” Marissa then breaks the doctor-approved sunglasses. Seems… unwise.

New, cool Maia gets a theme song and a leather jacket. She makes quite an impression on the image consultant in the elevator, and he asks her out. She rejects him. Ha ha.

Liz and Jay head to Cynthia’s next. They remember meeting each other before. Liz mentions the NDA, and Cynthia responds, “Your father wasn’t a bad man.” “I don’t understand how you can feel that way after everything that he did,” Liz replies.

Liz seems like she’s close to getting a signature on the NDA when Naomi Nivola, the reporter from 2x05, appears at her door asking about sexual harassment. Cynthia’s daughter tipped her off. I’m very happy to see Naomi again, not because I think she’s a wonderful character but because I thought Adrian’s “starfucking” excuse was too weak of a conclusion to her plotline last season. I’m almost glad to know she still holds a grudge, because it doesn’t let Adrian off the hook for some shitty behavior. Adrian isn’t Carl Reddick levels of disgusting but he’s done some troublesome things (and the way he talks to the female characters is a little condescending, no??)

(I went to re-read my thoughts on 2x05 and Naomi as I was writing this, and apparently I said I thought an episode about NDAs as they relate to #MeToo would be interesting. Hah!)

It’s still raining.

“I’ll talk to Naomi, find out what she knows,” Adrian decides. “You?! No,” Liz replies. Adrian actually asks why not!!!

Liz goes to settle with the stenographer next, and, again, she insists on doing it herself.

Maia is holding an NDA and sitting out at one of the associate desks, surrounded by a bunch of black men (does the firm have female associates?). Maia’s holding a red folder, and while that should mean she’s working on a case, she probably just picked it up because it was BOLD LIKE HER. What are work files if not accessories to make you look badass?

Maia’s also got her feet up on the desk. YOU’RE AT WORK, GIRL.

Julius asks Maia to move her feet. “Yeah? What do you need?” she replies. Julius is too stunned to actually play rank. Maia takes this as a victory. She shouldn’t. She can do this once, maybe twice, before it stops being cute and confusing and starts looking like what it is: an entitled white girl acting out and being disrespectful. If she wants to create distance from her parents’ scandal-- the actual issue here-- then she needs to be mature and develop a plan to work around it. She could, for example, take on lots of charity work and write an op-ed about deciding to help turn her dad in, and what she’s learned about the world from having her world crash down. Acting out in designer boots, red lipstick, and sunglasses is going to make Maia look like the oblivious child of privilege she is.

Why does this show insist on saying that Maia’s biggest weakness is her lack of boldness? She’s just awkward. She’s plenty confident. She just expresses it poorly.

I know this is a comedic subplot but Maia does not really behave like a human being??? Who would have that interaction and then feel self-satisfied? This is her place of work!!! She looks ridiculous!! She just talked back to a partner!!

Wendy doesn’t want to sign the NDA, and she doesn’t want any money. She says she’ll never tell anyone, because “there are so many people who want to destroy men. Black men.” And she doesn’t want to be a part of it. Interesting perspective, not one I agree with but one I’m pleased the writers included because it adds some nuance to the episode’s exploration of #MeToo.

Naomi and Jay talk in a not-very-interesting scene that includes some weird and unnecessary close ups of Jay. Main takeaway: Naomi thinks it’s Adrian who assaulted Cynthia.

Don’t really get why it’s great that Naomi thinks it’s Adrian. I suppose she’s a good enough journalist she wouldn’t publish a story there was no evidence for, but Adrian being able to deny it without lying hardly seems like cause for celebration. And would Naomi really drop it if Adrian said he didn’t rape anyone?

Eric and Don bailed on the safari, so Kurt’s still around. He winces when Diane hugs him, and Diane doesn’t let it slip. Kurt, being Kurt, says nothing is wrong.

He goes to the bathroom, and Diane’s phone rings. It’s Tara saying she won’t come forward.

Diane joins Kurt in the bathroom (lots of scenes in bathrooms this ep) and notices he has a huge bruise on his shoulder because Eric or Don shot him. We don’t get to find out-- and neither does Diane-- because Kurt’s signed an NDA about the incident. HAHAHA!

Adrian has his interview with Naomi. He denies they’ve asked Cynthia to sign an NDA, and denies he harassed her. And that’s it, until Naomi reveals THE REAL STORY: Assholes to Avoid.

I wonder, IRL, how much this would hurt the firm. I also am still not sure why they took that damn case. 2x05 and whichever ep was Assholes (I mentioned I’m glad we’re not counting days anymore, right?) annoyed me more than basically any other s2 episode because they were tied up so neatly, so I’m happy to see both cases come back to complicate things.

Now shit gets weird. I assume this next scene is one of the “soliloquies” the Kings mentioned that the season would include, and I like the idea more than the execution. The characters taking turns verbalizing their inner thoughts in eloquent speeches to no one? Sure! I’m down! Diane suddenly beginning to talk to a Trump-shaped bruise THAT MOVES AND TALKS in the middle of an episode? I’ll just say I hope they’re not all like this.

“The footman to the king. I am married to the footman to the king,” Diane starts. Then TrumpBruise talks back (don’t love this impersonation). I think this would work just fine as a monologue, and I definitely don’t need the animation. I couldn’t see it the first time through and the episode was better for it.

Anyway, Diane’s upset that Kurt’s become a worthless servant to a family she loathes, and she connects this to her ongoing thoughts on the State of Masculinity.

“What has happened to men? Where did the real guys go? Why do we now have these snide little creatures with slicked-back hair and cologne? What happened to Paul Newman and Burt Lancaster? What happened to men who were slow to anger and responsible and who didn’t cry like whiny little bitches? When did Trump and Kavanaugh become our idea of an aggrieved man, quivering lips, blaming everyone but themselves? You’re not fit to kiss my husband’s feet. A truthful man, uncomplaining, never passing the buck, never punching unless he’s punched. When did he become the exception?” Okay. But toxic masculinity is not a new thing. This isn’t insightful enough for me to applaud it and it’s not offensive/wrong enough for me to actually want to dissect it. I like that the show’s taking risks and like the soliloquy idea but this is… meh.

Bruise starts talking about how happy he is. He’s taunting Diane (well, technically, Diane is criticizing herself) because she was happy earlier, and now she’s not and this asshole Bruise is sooooo happy.

So Diane’s solution is to leak Tara’s abortion. Interestingly, she imagines TrumpBruise calling her out on breaking Tara’s confidence. Implying that Bruise has a conscience (or enough savvy to push her buttons), even one fueled by Diane’s imagination, feels weird to me. Diane’s imagining Bruise has a conscience?!

FRANCESCA IS STILL AROUND!!! My wish to ditch Colin and keep his mom came true!

Francesa is singing “I Wanna Be Sedated” to her grandson. Of course she is.

I’m unclear on a few things with this scene: who is Francesca talking to? Does Francesca know them? This must be Lucca’s house (?) if Francesca is leaving and taking calls for Lucca, but why does Lucca have a land line, and why would a client be calling her on it?

Francesca has an Instagram. God, I would love it if that account existed.

Lucca’s baby is really cute. What’s the kid’s name? Is it Joseph?

Francesca tells Lucca she’s the perfect divorce lawyer. Anyone else feel like we missed a scene or three with this Lucca/divorce law plot? Why would Francesca say that? Does she know about the opportunity? Was Lucca working divorce cases and doing great? MORE LUCCA NOW.

Maia’s still wearing her sunglasses the next day (unclear if this is for medical reasons or because she doesn’t know when to just stop). She’s sitting in on a meeting of the partners about the new Assholes scandal.

Adrian says they need to get their story straight, that they didn’t know they were taking down the site. That’s blatantly false, and Maia speaks up to say so. Adrian says they didn’t. Um, they did. Julius asks Maia to step out, and Lucca, who has a seat at the table, defends Maia. Julius says “this should be a partner thing” and Maia gets up to leave. Lucca, who is also not a partner unless we did, indeed, miss multiple Lucca scenes, asks Maia for her opinion.

On her way out, Maia says RBL should “own it. Our client wanted us to take down a #MeToo site. We didn’t agree, but we took it down. Because we’re that good.” Meh. That’s really the only way out of this. But as a client, I would not be reassured by that, especially not if I had brought my business to a firm specifically because of its values.

Adrian takes Badass!Maia’s advice, word for word. And it works. This particular client also wants to know who Maia Rindell is. He typed in ReddickBoseman.net instead of .com (but WHY) and it landed on a “really really cool” page about Maia.

Liz and Adrian immediately go to find this cool site, and Adrian shows how hip he is by typing a url in the search bar. What pops up is a site with the RBL logo and several ~fashionable~ pictures of Maia and her Miraculous Sunglasses. It’s hilariously terrible. They’re not bad pictures, but it’s sooooooooooooooooo inappropriate and ridiculous. It’s also unnecessary, and I know I’m overthinking a sight gag (and it is an effective sight gag) but if Maia wanted to be on the website that badly, she could have, you know, SAID SO instead of making a fucking website.

Lol @ Maia staging a photoshoot at the office. Why wouldn’t she?

The website has the tagline “younger-tougher-smarter”. Well, one of those things is true, and you all know which one it is.

Cynthia’s back, in the office, to sign the NDA. She does.

Marissa’s prepared her research on Carl Reddick. She leaves it with Liz, in a green folder.

Diane goes to Naomi with Tara’s story. We don’t hear her tell it, so there’s a chance she thought better of it, but omg, how shitty, Diane!!!!!

Liz and Adrian share a drink. Adrian says he did suspect that Carl might have been having an affair, he just never thought it was assault.

“Your dad was really good to me, Liz. He’s the reason I have a career,” Adrian explains. “Me too,” Liz says, raising her glass. Damn. I don’t think those words were chosen unintentionally. Lots of layers to this scene.

Adrian decides to lighten the mood by mocking the image consultant. Liz, who’s wearing heels similar to the ones Maia was wearing earlier and has her feet up just like Maia did, comes up with an identity for the firm: “We’re a firm with no past. Not anymore. We’re starting over. That’s refreshing.”

Then they toast to Peter Florrick’s State’s Attorney campaign slogan/the writer’s perpetual favorite phrase: “New beginnings.” But it’s still storming, and the folder with all of Carl Reddick’s past misdeeds is sitting feet away. Dramatic!

As the credits roll, there’s an actual count of all the red folders in the episode. Heh.

I’m very on board with this season so far. Can’t wait to see what happens next!

Couldn’t all the episodes of this show (and TGW) be called The One About the Recent Troubles, though???

[obscuniverse]

Obscu comments: Ready Player One, Part 1.

This is @derinthemadscientist‘s fault. Chapter 0

“I was sitting in my hideout watching cartoons“ Okay you’re either a grizzled old veteran with an actual hideout who watches cartoons because they can, or an awkward child who calls their room a ‘hideout’.

“globally networked“ unlike all other MMOS, apparently.

“At first, I couldn’t understand why the media was making such a big deal of the billionaire’s death.“ Awkward child it is.

“so the unwashed masses“ Could you maybe try harder to sound aloof and superior? I’m just not getting your disdainful sneering coming through as clear as I’d like.

I’m all of three paragraphs in and here and I can feel the neckbeard.

“But that was the rub. James Halliday had no heirs.“ And if this was set in a feudal monarchy, that would be an issue.

You’re gonna make this an issue, aren’t you Ernest?

“He’d spent the last fifteen years of his life in self-imposed isolation, during which time—if the rumors were to be believed —he’d gone completely insane.“ So the board of directors voted to remove him as CEO of the company like 14 years ago, right? Because massive global corporate juggernauts that have somehow established a telecommunications monopoly are not run by one person pedalling a bike to power a single computer in their own locked room.

You do know that, right?

Right, Ernest?

That’s okay though, I mean Halliday is probably having fun willing away his personal fortune.

“had everyone from Toronto to Tokyo crapping in their cornflakes” is this entire book going to read like a forum post? It is, isn’t it? Isn’t it, Ernest?

“His video message was actually a meticulously constructed short film titled Anorak’s Invitation“ A quick google tells me that, aside from being a kind of jacket, ‘Anorak’ is British slang for a person with obsessive niche interests. The global billionaire’s Final Message is basically entitled ‘Letter from a huge fuckin weeb’.

Also, how else would it be constructed? What purpose does ‘meticulous’ serve here? Is that unusual for a global tech billionaire? Was it especially meticulous? What is this description contrasting with, Ernest? Your own writing?

I’m going to sail right past the part where he had global admin rights to what’s literally the internet despite being AWOL for 15 years and this didn’t concern anybody at all. Let’s just say he ‘built a backdoor’ into it that has somehow gone unnoticed for several decades in a system that would be continually maintained and updated by thousands of sysadmins. Okay, it’s fine, he’s the creator of the core system. I’ll suspend my disbelief that his personal backdoor didn’t end up in the bin every time they upgraded something in the core build. Maybe it did and he rebuilt it, stealthily, all over again. Fine, but I’ve got my eye on you, Ernest.

“surpassing even the Zapruder film“ Just call it the Kennedy Assassination tape so nobody has to google it, Ernest.

Ernest, buddy, why am I seeing an ast-- oh, it’s a footnote. You’ve written your prologue chapter with fucking footnotes. Could you not figure out how to write more words with the rest of the words, Ernest?

My. God. There are seven footnotes. Of them, six say some version of “this was photoshopped in from an 80′s movie to confirm that this was, in fact from the 80′s. Did I mention the 80′s?” and the seventh is “this is a photo of the Rich Man of the Internet from the 80′s”. I really feel like Ernest has set up a much more interesting story and then elected to ignore it in favour of writing the gamergate manifesto of a 16-year-old boy. There’s apparently a nuclear war going on in the background, and one nerd somehow became the God-King of the Internet despite the fact that literally any first-world government would immediately try to seize this kind of centralised infrastructure away from him. Does this mean governments are a thing of the past? Is this entire story taking place in some kind of children’s creche in the Shadowrun continuity? I have so many questions, and none of them are about this book.

So God-King Jimmy is a 40-something-old man dancing in a re-edited scene of an 80′s highschool movie dance. I don’t know why it takes six sentences to say this, except to say that he danced flawlessly, and also:

“But Halliday has no dance partner. He is, as the saying goes, dancing with himself.” Is he now, Ernest? Is he really? To be fair to Ernest, I also wrote like this. In highschool. While desperately trying to inflate an essay to reach the wordcount.

“A few lines of text appear briefly at the lower left-hand corner of the screen, listing the name of the band, the song’s title, the record label, and the year of release, as if this were an old music video airing on MTV: Oingo Boingo, “Dead Man’s Party,” MCA Records, 1985.” We know how music videos work, Ernest.

“He breaks the fourth wall, addressing the viewer, and begins to read“. Is that what he’s doing by addressing the viewer, Ernest?  I’m so glad that you clarified that for me, Ernest, that when a character is breaking that fourth wall that they are explicitly breaking the fourth wall. What would we do without your propensity for re-describing your own descriptions, Ernest?

“I, James Donovan Halliday, being of sound mind and disposing memory, do hereby make, publish, and declare this instrument to be my last will and testament, hereby revoking any and all wills and codicils by me at any time heretofore made.…” *record scratch* I’m not sure this is legally binding. I mean you’ve gone through a truly painstaking amount of effort to describe how heavily-edited this video is. Maybe Emperor Jimmy is fraudulently edited in? Maybe that’s not a binding legal will? Maybe if he’s been a missing person for 15 years then he can’t be assumed to be of sound mind just because he suddenly shows up and says he is? Okay, maybe it’s just seemed like he’s been gone to the general public rather than the C-level of his company, who are somehow okay with the stock crash this is going to cause. “My entire estate, including a controlling share of stock in my company“ Hold up, buttercup. I have exhausted my supply of willing suspension of disbelief, Ernest.

There is just so much wrong with this entire premise. The awol hermit somehow retains control of The Internet. An entire corporate conglomerate and every country that may or may not exist is either okay with this or has no recourse to do anything about it somehow. Not a single one of the thousands of people who maintain the backend bothers to comb through the code to find where this ‘easter egg’ has been slipped in. You know about code, right Ernest? I mean I take it you’ve at least seen The Matrix, yeah? Remember how people sitting outside the matrix can scan through the code, even in that hellscape where they’re not even the ones that control it? Sure, OASIS probably isn’t open-source... but how many people do you think have actual backend access? Spoiler: It’s not “Just Emperor Jimmy”, Ernest. Nobody at that company needs to play through what I can only imagine is a painstakingly convoluted puzzle quest that you’re about to explain to me in several levels of unnecessary detail.

Look, this entire premise reminds me of Breaking Bad. Not any of the good bits, mind you but the bit where the entire plot could only take place in the USA because in the rest of the developed world Walter White just goes to a fucking doctor and gets treatment for his cancer because healthcare actually exists.

That’s what this is like. The number of arbitrarily nonsensical things that must be true for this premise to work is... Incredibly distracting. Nothing about this is a reasonable situation. Nothing that you’ve established about this world suggests that anything about this makes even a little bit of sense. Now I’m aware that ‘eccentric millionaire leaves money in some kind of convoluted contest’ is a trope and I remember some very silly 90′s movies based on this premise but come on Ernest. There’s a much more interesting novel hiding between the lines of the premise you’ve ham-fistedly implied just so you can list for me the brands of 1980′s televisions. Out of curiousity, I googled every person who wrote the advance praise comments inside the cover. I had a sneaking suspicion about the demographics of people who enjoy this book. Here’s a brief summary (since Ernest loves lists so much) 1. White American Male, Age 48

2. White American Male, Age 47

3. White American Male, Age 52

4. White American Male, Age 68

5. White American Male, Age 49

6. White American Male, Age 40

7. White American Male, Age 41

I then googled Ernest, an action I deeply regret. Demographically speaking, let’s have a look: White American Male, Age 46.

I’m detecting a pattern is what I’m saying here. I’m only halfway through the prologue, mind you, and perhaps this really picks up but I feel like I absolutely did not need to be told the brand of the television that Young God-Emperor Jimmy had his Atari 2600 into. Nor did I need to be told that his Atari 2600 was, indeed, an Atari 2600 about 10 words before God-Emperor Jimmy then actually says that it’s an Atari 2600. Maybe this book is for people who get a real kick out of seeing the words ‘Atari 2600′. People who are (and I’m just throwing wild, unsubstantiated theories out here) about 40+, white, male, and American?

I’m going to stop now because I’ve started writing my thesis just to procrastinate from having to read the second half of the prologue to this book.

[firecoloredwater]

Why is there not anything like tech school for writers?  Or if there is, why haven’t I heard of it?

I’m graduating with a bachelor’s degree in creative writing in... *check* six days.  (AAAAAA)  I took every available writing class in high school, and significantly more literature and writing classes than I actually needed in college.  I am a better writer than at least half of my thesis class.  (I am, to be fair, also the oldest, so that’s not as big a brag as it sounds.)

And like... alright, I’ve learned a lot about spelling and punctuation and grammar.  And I’ve learned how to analyze theme and symbolism and implied characterization, which can be reversed and applied to work theme and symbolism into my writing to a degree.

And... that’s... basically it?  All of my ‘how to write’ classes have been The Rules of Spelling/Punctuation/Grammar/Sentence Structure, or practice and critique.  Which I enjoy and which has been useful, but....

A List Of Things Which I Expected To Learn In College, Was Never Taught, And Either Learned From The Internet, Struggled To Figure Out On My Own, Or Still Do Not Know And Desperately Wish I Did:

How to create a well-developed character

How to create a character that will fill the role you need them to

How to do both of the above, with the same character

What the fuck is a plot and how do I build one?

What does a scene need to accomplish to count as introduction, rising action, climax, falling action, or epilogue?  How do I tell the difference?

If I have too much introduction or epilogue, how do I fix that?

How do I determine POV?  First vs third?  Limited vs omniscient?  Which characters should be the POV characters?  ‘What I’m most comfortable with’ and ‘I wanted to challenge myself’ is not sufficient.

How do I tell if a scene works, or if it’s just amusing me?

What does a scene need to accomplish, and how do I tell if it’s doing that?

Where do chapters breaks go?

How do I create tone and/or mood?  What’s the difference between them?  Is there a difference?

How do I know what tone I should create for a given scene?

How do I disguise foreshadowing?  How subtle should foreshadowing be?

How do I incorporate worldbuilding and other types of exposition without info dumping?

How do I tell what exposition I need to include, and what’s not necessary?

How do I show characterization?

How do I show character development?

How do I show a character’s thoughts and feelings?

How do I show relationships between characters?

How do I create fast or slow pacing?  Does it matter, beyond personal preference, whether the pacing is fast or slow?  How do I identify the pacing in my writing, and fix it if it isn’t what I want?

How do I transition between scenes?

How do I indicate a timeskip?

Am I allowed to not include deliberate symbolism and/or themes?

How do I figure out a theme that doesn’t require me to sacrifice realistic characterization in service of it?

How do I pick symbols that will not mislead readers into expecting something I didn’t actually plan to have happen?

How do I include symbols, without being obnoxious and obvious about it?

I’ve seen bits and pieces of almost all of this floating around in the form of articles and advice from writers, but like... I went to school for this.  This is what I wanted my writing degree to teach me.  Why does a degree in writing at no point include any instruction on how to write well?  The closest it’s ever gotten is when critiques would bring up issues like

And yeah, I know the answer to a lot of this is ‘well the standard approach is __, but you CAN do whatever you want’ and that teaching answers to some of these would result in a generation of writers using cliches, but even so.  I can drive a car off of the main roads, too, and even off of any road, but I should not be about to graduate with, let me emphasize again, a degree in creative writing, and still be feeling like I’m attempting to drive from New York to San Francisco on a continent with neither roads nor maps.  Does my school just suck even more than I think it does, or is there just something bizarrely ineffective about our collective approach to teaching writing fiction?

[ichikonohakko]

[Ender’s Game AU] three’s a crowd [1/3]

AO3

I have no idea why but I haven’t written in months because I’ve been writing my undergraduate thesis. Stress built up so much I created at least three AUs for three different animes but I couldn’t write them because I got some sort of mental block on writing fiction?? And somehow I got even more stressed because I don’t write those AUs??? I dunno

But tonight I was feeling so stressed and desperate for an outlet that does not involve self harm, I tried my rusty writings. Here is one of my KnB AkaKuro Ender’s Game AU, though it’s about the children of Akashi household instead of the main couple.

If you guys have the time, please comment if my writing has gone wonky from disuse, I’d really appreciate it if you do. Enjoy <3

“I want to talk to Shougo,”

“I’m sorry ma’am, the Master of the House is not taking any unscheduled audience, please return when you have prior engagement.”

These men are stupid, Satsuki concluded with a huff of her breath. She rolled her eyes and stomped the ground, knowing full well that she no longer fit the image of a child throwing tantrum, but still…

Still.

“You guys are ridiculous,” she challenged, harrowing still. “I don’t need ‘prior engagement’ to talk to him. Now move before I kick this door down along with you bums.” This was why Satsuki hated being home so much. These men are dumb. Obedient, yes, but dumb. Why should she need appointment to see her number one cause of headache these days? It wasn’t like she wanted to kill him, or coax him into killing everyone in this goddamn planet, right?

Oh.

These idiots.

“Don’t you guys know who I am?” This felt ridiculous, utterly utterly ridiculous, especially since this is her home and they were standing using her family crest. The guards looked confused, but they held their ground. “The Master does not have any engagement with any military personnel today.” was the answer they gave her and Satsuki was downright confused.

So these people didn’t know who she was.

Has it already been that long?

No way.

Taking a deep breath, Satsuki groaned, absolutely annoyed. She would definitely chew Shougo out for not introducing her to the manor’s guard. This was her, and she was fairly reasonable, if Shigehiro came home and received the same treatment, the other would bring the entire Lancelot army and flay these people alive. She hadn’t slept since she arrived in-planet and she didn’t want to launch a rocket into her own home, but these people are grating her nerves.

Just before Satsuki was going to do she may (never) regret, the door creaked open and the Headache Reason Number 1 looked at her confusedly. “Satsuki? Why are you here?” Satsuki would have chewed him right here and now, but she hasn’t seen him in such a long time that she just slinked into his arms.

The guards were panicking, obviously rattled that anyone (a military officer, no less!) could be so brazen as to initiate an intimate physical contact to arguably the most powerful man on Earth, but Shougo laughed at them as he casually placed his arms under her thighs and carried her with practiced ease. “A-Akashi-sama!!” they spluttered as Satsuki buried her face on the crook of Shougo’s neck, inhaling the nostalgic scent of sandalwood and lilies, Shougo was an idiot.

Said Idiot then laughed as he dismissed the guards with a cock of his head. “At ease boys, if she wanted to hurt me, I’ll be dead in a second.” Satsuki hummed, agreeing without words. Yeah. Shougo was an easy target, that’s why he ‘s always so protected. Stupid.

“B-but, Master, she’s- the military-!”

“It’s fine. C’mon Satsuki, you’re obviously exhausted if you’re acting like this. Will Shigehiro be coming too?”

“No idea…”

As Shougo stepped inside the foyer, Satsuki could hear the guards surprised gasps when the disguise she put on got instantly disarmed the moment the manor welcomed her in. As Shougo brought her inside, chiding and scolding her about her surprise visits, Satsuki gave them a smile as they gaped over her utterly famous heterochromatic blue and red.

“W-welcome home, Akashi Satsuki-sama!”

Satsuki laughed.

--

Their family does not often take pictures.

This was a fact Satsuki lamented nowadays as she watched her crew often had a wistful gaze towards a picture they put up on their stations. The only picture she had of their family was one taken after Shougo graduated the academy, and that was a long time ago.

It was a simple photo, his fathers in their military uniform, Shougo in his academy uniform, and then her and Shigehiro in a simple gray dress and suit respectively. She didn’t smile, neither do her fathers, Shougo, or Shigehiro. The Akashi family was a military family through and through. They never smile or laugh in public, even when they are out as family.

And yet there were smiles from Papa, indulgent ones, exasperated ones, loving and wondrous and Satsuki remembered them all. Red irises full of warmth, watching his children playing or studying or sleeping Papa would smile when he thought nobody was watching. Shigehiro always noticed them, loved them, adored them, did everything he could just to have those smiles on their Papa’s face. Papa then responded in tune, smiling more often around Shigehiro even when he didn’t have to.

Satsuki noticed, though, that Papa’s smiles are often times done to fish a reaction out of Father.

Father was… different. He didn’t smile, not even around his children. Satsuki was not sure if Father smiled around Papa but she has been living for 24 years (give-or-take, ignoring relativity and stuff) and never once did she see Father smile. There were gazes though, so longing and tender and thousands of other adjectives that made Shougo weak behind the knees.

Her siblings always had their favorite fathers and Satsuki didn’t mind them. She wouldn’t pick one over the other. Father was as wonderfully flawed as Papa was and she was fine with that. They’re both humans, after all.

--

Satsuki did not have patience to deal with idiots, that was why she left earth on the first place.

Her crew, no, her entire fleet was composed of entirely people she thought smart. Wonderful, talented, saplings that will grow great with the right leader; Satsuki took mostly scientists and many military men and women who were tired of life on earth and was willing to do long expeditions in which they will never return from.

That had been the start, but since the invention of Zeta portals they could now visit their families on earth whenever they got into a planet that was advanced enough to do just that. But even then only a handful of people peruse the privilege. Most of Satsuki’s crew got on with their spouses, and those who didn’t eventually got together with each other. The Prometheus Fleet was a close-knit family that even the military recognized the dark jokes of their relations being incestuous. Satsuki thought they were being ridiculous, as idiots often are.

But Satsuki herself, she would peruse the privileges whenever possible (sometimes when it was impossible, Satsuki would make it possible). She would gave orders, let her scientists do the work as she smoothed all the bureaucracies, before then sauntering off to the available Zeta to do what she was doing right now.

Because Headache Reason Number 1, her dearest darlingest and most precious Shougo-onii-sama gets lonely so easily.

Shougo was an idiot, somewhat, so Satsuki by all natures did not have patience to deal with him as well. But Shougo was family and family was different. She had a soft spot for her family that borders on obsession, maybe. Satsuki preferred to be alone, mostly, keeping people at arm’s length and never playing close. She used to think that the only person she needed in this life was Shigehiro and Shigehiro alone. But Shigehiro, sweetest little Shigehiro who was the only member of Akashi family that could count as ‘normal’, and Satsuki’s younger twin brother, always told her that she needs everyone else too.

That had been years ago when they were little children playing hide and seek with Uncle Chihiro, nowadays Satsuki had more… family, so to speak. Shigehiro (of course, of course), Prometheus, her fathers, and unfortunately, Shougo is also included in the equation.

Not that Shougo would admit it, though.

But well, she supposed that she loved watching how Shougo grew up. He… changed a lot. He used to be so hardheaded and ill tempered, easily getting angry and quick to challenge people to a fight. There were days when she and Shigehiro preferred to not associate with their brother whenever the other was in particularly foul mood. Satsuki could still remember how Father would deal with him, by giving him silent treatment until everything in the (living, studio, dining) room got trashed in a tantrum. Then Father would hug him, in total silence, gave him soothing rubs and low hums while Shougo cried and melt.

(Not a smile though, never with a smile)

Nowadays, Shougo was… different. He was much kinder, mellower, and leaving the military probably had helped him as well. The military was not a place to show emotions, which was why it fitted Satsuki who was pretty much neutral to anything sans stupidity. But Shougo, the idiot still no matter how much he mellowed, left the military to be a politician.

It was… byproduct of situation and condition, actually. One she and Shigehiro still contemplate until this day. When her fathers disappeared (went on a very secret mission none but the upper echelons knew, officially), along with Satsuki’s appointment to Commander of Prometheus, there was a vacancy in the seat of power that was Akashi family’s head.

They had been public figures since birth, generations of their family leading the earth against alien forces that had tried to colonize them twice before the leader of this generation finally obliterated the race and managed to colonize other planets, establishing peace and harmony throughout the solar system for people of earth and people who had been abducted by the aliens before. Nowadays, there wasn’t anyone who didn’t know the name Akashi, and tributes from various planets are still sent to the manor on daily basis.

The name Akashi still struck fear and awe and gratitude and love and myriad of other emotions in people throughout the solar system, so there were no vacancies allowed.

Shougo was still in the military at the time, working as an instructor in school. And he was already on a one-month-notice so he could retire and try something else in life (Satsuki vaguely remembered that Shougo wanted to try being a volleyball athlete? Or something about an idol? She didn’t remember, Shougo was a bit weird) outside of the military. Shigehiro still won’t tell her the detailed story, but the one he told her was that he clearly and expressly told Shougo that he will never ever took the position as the Head of Akashi family.

(“I just can’t, y’know?” Shigehiro had said to her, frowning and shaking and absolutely rattled as he tried to face the screen that connected him and Satsuki in the first place. “I can’t take Papa’s place. Never.” Satsuki had smiled at him, because as much as she loved Shougo, Shigehiro would always be her main priority.)

So Shougo was appointed as the Head of the Akashi family, heralded and prided and not allowed to leave the military. Satsuki was livid and she was about to launch a rocket to those bastards of International Council of Nations to just, at the very least, let her brother leave the military that so clearly did him no justice, before cousin Hayami came with Father’s father (who was old and ancient, possibly the oldest man on earth). Former Admiral Mayuzumi Tsukasa had deemed the Council ridiculous by keeping the eldest Akashi son in the military when he so clearly wanted to be something else.

There were negotiations, talks and meetings done to determine her brother’s future. Around this time, Shigehiro found out that he wanted to study other planet’s culture and eventually went to travel to Mars.

(It was something Shigehiro regretted until today. Of how selfish he was to leave Shougo like that. Shigehiro once said that he was probably the biggest reason why Shougo got so easily lonely. “He thinks that his family has abandoned him.” Shigehiro had sobbed to the screen, it was the first time Satsuki saw him sobbing since the day Papa told him not to cry over small matters like dropping a vase.)

Satsuki tried to talk to her brother as much as she could during these times, because it was always up to her to fix whatever mess Shigehiro has done. Shougo would answer whenever it was convenient to him, smiling a lonely smile that was full of resignation. He explained, always, that he was okay and he knew his destiny and for her to have fun and stay healthy. Satsuki regretted the years she spent belittling Shougo for the passion he had for everything. She even once told him that if he kept that passion he would never survive the military, won’t ever rose to the ranks like she did, all because Shougo’s passion would mean that he would be easily hurt because he put his heart on things he was passionate about. It was only then that Satsuki realized that the only reason she and Shigehiro were able to fly as freely as they did was because of that very passion—Shougo’s compassion.

Satsuki withdrew to herself after that call, she didn’t talk to anyone for a few days and it had her fleet extremely worried. But she left them a note that said she was fine, set her room to be soundproofed, and screamed her frustration until she lost her voice. Three days later, she called cousin Hayami to ask how Shougo was doing; she showed her the announcement that Shougo was to be the Minister of Inter-Planetary Migration.

A government office.

That silly self-sacrificing martyr who wore his heart on his sleeves is going to hold a governmental office.

Satsuki called Shigehiro that night, eyes blazing and fist trembling.

“We’re going to protect Shougo, you and I. Until Papa and Father returns, we’re going to bring hell to people who dared to hurt our dear Onii-sama.”

Shigehiro didn’t ask her anything, as he usually would when she just call him without a greeting or a ‘how are you?’, he just nodded, equally as determined.

(And yet still, Satsuki thought, how am I going to protect Shougo when Shigehiro is the one hurting him? She didn’t ask, preferring to shove the thought to the back of her head and make them stay there.)

--

Shougo hugged her tight, taking in every bit of her just like she took every bit of his, as he buried his face on the crook of Satsuki’s neck.

“Missed you,” soft, curt, lonely, desperate, Satsuki tightened her hug around his neck. “Missed you too, Onii-sama.” She only ever call him Onii-sama in intimate moments like this. Because Shougo was still an idiot and Headache Reason Number 1, but as they went to Shougo’s study and sat on the sofa where Satsuki used to play chess with Father, Shougo did not let go of her. Very lonely then.

“Hey, it’s alright, I’m here now…”

“Yeah but you’ll leave…”

That actually hurt.

And so undeniably true. Satsuki wouldn’t lie to Shougo, because Shougo is family and family should not be lied to. It was a principle of a sort, that in all things Akashi Satsuki had to do in her life, she would never lie to her family.

But seeing a man in his thirties clinging so desperately to her like this… maybe a couple of white lies is worth it? Satsuki took a deep breath and just let her brother hug her even closer. She caressed the back of his neck in a gentle circular motion, hoping that he would calm down and realize that she was not going to leave in these few hours.

Satsuki let the time pass as Shougo hugged her, not letting her go for who knows how long, until he finally did. Slowly, reverently, gently, as if she was going to disappear if he handled her wrongly. Satsuki always thought that whoever had the pleasure of being Shougo’s lover would be a very lucky person.

The sky had turned orange, even though it was blue when she came. It was quite a long time then. Shougo sighed and showed her a tired grin. “Thanks, Satsuki.” Satsuki smiled back, because now this was her Shougo, her Headache Reason Number 1. He gently pushed Satsuki away from his lap and Satsuki got to her feet, watching as the other went over to the corner of the room to make them tea.

“To think that I used to hate you when we were kids…” Shougo said, more to himself than to Satsuki really, but Satsuki laughed. “Oh? I thought it was Shigehiro you hate?” Because Shigehiro was noisy and annoying and bratty and he always gave Father frequent headaches (not to mention that there’s That Incident With Aunt Satsuki’s Vase that was never mentioned among the Akashi siblings, but that was another story), and because Shougo loved Father, he hated Shigehiro for that. Shougo smiled, eyes faraway and nostalgic. “I hated you both, actually.” And they laughed.

Really, Satsuki mused, all things considered, relations were good between the Akashi siblings.

--

Things weren’t always good between them.

Especially so when they were children. Shougo was older than both she and Shigehiro by eight years, and he was two years old when Papa took some off-planet mission somewhere and only returned when Shougo was seven years old, burning and seething and annoyed that right after Papa came back, he had immediately asked Father to create another sibling.

And then he didn’t get only one sibling he got two.

Satsuki admitted that she and Shigehiro were… well; they were cruel in their childhood. They rejected everything that tried to get close to them, including their family and relatives. Father was respectful, only touching them and playing with them when they wanted him to, and Shigehiro loved Papa so much he was always invited. Shougo wasn’t even part of the equation back then.

Satsuki was colder then, too. Only concerning herself with books and Shigehiro’s affairs while her younger brother experienced all the normality there was. Shougo was always somewhere, uninvited, alone, and at first he was confused until he just came to a conclusion that he wasn’t wanted and he was always constantly in a foul mood after that.

(Nowadays, Satsuki realized that maybe that was the telltale of Shougo’s compassion. He had wanted to be loved by Satsuki and Shigehiro and he was angry because he wasn’t. And he didn’t understand why they had rejected him and what he should he do about that pain. Not to mention the fact that Shougo hated Papa for leaving him and Father so suddenly, and his burning jealousy towards Papa’s affection to them. Satsuki genuinely felt bad about Shougo, really…)

Back then it was unthinkable for her to be sprawled on Shougo’s lap, watching a movie that was loosely based from their grandfather’s adventure to save the planet from the aliens. Her brother looked serious, aged, he was old now than when Satsuki left him, not just the numbers but from his eyes. Shougo might be in his thirties, but his eyes looked even older. She supposed that she could be grateful, because the unthinkable is now something easy between the two of them.

“Satsuki,” Shougo began, his voice calm and level. Satsuki narrowed her eyes. This was the tone Shigehiro took when he told her that he would permanently stay in Mars, something important, something that Shougo won’t say to her unless they were face to face and not face to screen. Satsuki didn’t move, though, she only tilted her head slightly, not wanting to alarm Shougo.

Her brother smiled at her, something that she never took for granted because things were hard before the Akashi siblings got the equilibrium they had now. “I’m getting married.”

She bolted up, knocking Shougo’s forehead. But she ignored the pain as she stared at him like he had grown two heads.

What?