Maybe Station 19 was like an experimental cubist painting.
There were too many stories to be told and too many people trying to tell them, from too many perspectives, with too many styles…
Each viewer saw a different picture.
It was the show that tried to capture the zeitgeist and represent the under-represented. Also the show that often struggled. With the tones and textures. With representing w/o tokenizing. B/w laughing with and laughing at. B/w realism and romanticizing. B/w deliberate and arbitrary. B/w educating and entertaining. B/w what they consider profane and sacrosanct.
At times, it touched our hearts deeply. At times, it frustrated us to no end.
Not every story was given the respect, sensitivity and intricacy it was due.
One moment could lead to a profound understanding of an aspect of a lived life some of us had never known; while the next could be a moment that was beyond confounding - about an aspect of ourselves that made us feel slighted, diminished and even erased.
It had often been an exercise in empathy to find our common humanity at the intersectionality of stories. Yet, the scale of empathy often skewed too far in favor of some characters with the differing standards, narrative frames and plot armors. Ironically yet reasonably turning people off these very characters they wanted people to root for. A persistent dissonance and disconnect.
But it was also the show that didn’t shy away from the ugly, the raw, the uncomfortable and messy parts of our shared human experience. The tribulations of oppression. The perils of ambition. The tests of morality. The trials of friendship and love. That we would make mistakes, but we could also make amends. That we're not defined by our worst. That our best lives could still be in front of us despite the current struggles. That sometimes life sucks but having your people with you makes it more bearable.
I would think it an interesting journey for the diversity of people behind, on, and in front of the screen. The evolving stories, evolving characters, evolving storytellers, an evolving fandom - all amidst an evolving media landscape.
It was probably not an easy show to make. The show had a bewilderingly lack of support from abc or shondaland. Diversity seemed to be both good for promotion (when there was any) and the reason for the prejudice against it.
Just as it had not been an easy show to watch - so biased, inconsistent and self-contradictory. Like when they kept telling us about the family spirit and deep friendships yet somehow spent more time showing otherwise. Or when the writing of systemic sexism was somehow inherently sexist.
Personally, I don’t think characters belong to the writers alone. Besides the usual constraints, the characters were often adjusted back and forth to fit the plots. We’ve also learnt how network execs' dislikes, writers’ personal experiences were factored into the stories. I fully respect the writers’ artistic rights. But actors who embodied the characters for years have a unique understanding too. Viewers also have their personal takes about what were true to characters. It's ok to agree to disagree.
There had been sparks of brilliance, but often extinguished too soon. It has been confounding how the greys-verse did not capitalise on its vast potential, esp. S19. Even while both shows share a show-runner. Grey's anatomy could have lent its scale while Station 19 could have injected renewed energy back into its mothership. Both shows could have been better for it.
Although the characters have the foundation of distinct and interesting backstories, their development often did not fully utilise the narrative potential and the talents of the cast. I’m sure the crew was also competent and hardworking. But somehow some elements b/w n within the shows seemed to just cancel each other out instead of amplifying their impact. IMO 704 and 709 were a few exceptions.
But I'll always be glad S19 existed and we got a S7. I believe they had tried their best to wrap up and give closure to everyone invested in the show. I truly appreciated the hard work given the circumstances even when I personally didn't agree with some takes.
In the end, I really do want to remember it as the show with heart, the show that made us laugh and cry and the show that tried. The show that's unique - in both its merits and flaws. I’ll definitely miss the characters. One last time - 19!
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BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46
“Do you have dimples?”
Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.
For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.
Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.
“Hah?”
“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.
His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).
“Why the hell are you asking?”
“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.
He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”
“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.
Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.
He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.
“What happens if you win the bet?”
“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.
That’s a lot, he thought.
“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”
“There’s no fun in that!”
He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”
“He gets 3000 yen.”
Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.
He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”
“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.
He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.
“Tch. Whatever.”
You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”
He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.
“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”
“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”
“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.
He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.
You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.
“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”
“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.
“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”
“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”
He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with.
Less hassle for him.
He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).
You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”
That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.
“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”
There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.
Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.
“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”
“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”
“Hey wait— You—“
He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.
“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”
“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”
Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.
He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”
“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.
Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”
He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.
Could you imagine how furious he was?
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