#like that is essentially the premise of our entire relationship so of course i will drive to the hospital to visit her

[malpractice-morale]

i simultaneously am really great at putting up boundaries and really shit. my body and mind are literally screaming at me to just hole up and isolate for a few days to GET SOME FUCKING RESPITE but my morals are like 'what do your exams mean in comparison to xyz' and i always come up with 'nothing'

[the-eclectic-wonderer]

is there anything golden girls you have Lots of Thoughts on that you haven't got to talk about fully or been asked about yet? consider this a free space to share those thoughts.

Anon, this question is essentially a declaration of love to me. You couldn't have made me happier. I am kissing you on the lips (or going to buy the best cheesecake in the world for you, your pick).

After some deliberation, I ended up choosing a subject I've been thinking about (and mentioning on here) ever since my first watch-through of the series, i.e. why a queer reading of Dorothy, Blanche and Rose doesn't only make sense because of their interactions with each other, but is actually in line with their journey as characters, the challenges they face, and the overall tune of the show. It seems like I ended up writing a short essay about it, so I'm putting it all under a cut. Hope you enjoy!

Ok, so, I'd like to make a little premise first. I love the platonic view of the show. I'm always always fond of stories that celebrate the importance of platonic bonds. If anything I'm sort of annoyed that they sometimes use familial language (they're ‘sisters’, Sophia loves them 'as her own') to symbolize their love for one another, but I understand why they chose to use it -- it's a quick way to communicate profound affection to the audience, and especially to the audience at the time.

That being said, I feel like a queer romantic view of the bond between Dorothy, Rose, and Blanche is equally poignant -- and of course it's especially dear to me, as a queer woman. For one thing, it’s still in tune with the core message of the show: whatever kind of affection they feel for one another, they’re still an unusual unit by societal standards, and yet there's no doubt that they’re the most important people in each other’s life (in fact, one could argue that they are, in canon, what today we'd call a QPR, but I digress). They love each other, they're committed to each other, they share their lives, in a way that doesn't conform to societal standards.

Dorothy sums it up very well in her speech in S7E4 That’s For Me To Know: they’re not a conventional family, but theirs is a real, honest love. This is a message that feels very in tune with the queer experience: how many of us have been told that our loves, our identities, our relationships and our (chosen) families aren’t real? Not to mention some of the problems they face: how many queer people have been kept apart from their loved ones in the hospital because they weren't related? How many have gone through the anxiety of an HIV test? I'm not surprised the show resonated so much with queer people in the 80s/90s, and I'm not surprised it still does.

Dorothy

What about the characters themselves? Let's start with Dorothy, since I've already spoken a bit about her in the past. Dorothy's character journey is, in essence, a journey towards self-discovery, self-acceptance, and self-love. She begins the show as a recently divorced woman who has been with the same horrid man for her entire adult life, a man she married in a hurry because he got her pregnant at 17; her self-esteem is on the floor. She doesn't know what being loved in a romantic sense means. Through living with the Girls she learns how to take back what she's lost; how to feel secure in her sexuality and attractiveness, how to love herself more, and (as a consequence of this self-love) how to open herself up to the world and other people. She even states so in the series finale:

We've all learned a lot from each other. I mean, Ma taught me life does not end because you've reached a certain age. And I've become much more comfortable with my sexuality because of Blanche. And Rose has taught me… Rose has taught me... [...] Anyway, because of them I feel that I'm ready to love you. (S7E25 One Flew Out Of The Cuckoo's Nest)

This is a queer-aligned narrative already!! Years and years of sacrifice and repression followed by a journey towards self-discovery thanks to love, support, and a sense of community? That's queer, baby! I particularly like the interpretation of Dorothy as a repressed lesbian because I feel like it fits very well with her character traits, but honestly, any queer reading of her fits as well. Having her realize that she is queer and eventually choose to act on it would have been a great way to reinforce her character journey.

It also would have added some amazing layers to her whole backstory, both as pertains to her marriage (doesn't it all feel more tragic, if you think of her as a repressed lesbian?) and, for example, to her friendship with Jean (how would she have felt seeing her friend be openly gay while she denied the same truth about herself?). I just think there's lots and lots that could be explored when we consider Dorothy in this lens.

Blanche

On to Blanche. A lot of Blanche's character traits (her vanity, her self-centeredness, her need to be the center of attention in a positive way) stem, I feel, from the way she was treated in her childhood and from two pivotal episodes in her life: the 'disappearance' of her Mammy and George's death. Her stories about her childhood (especially the ones she tells when her sisters are involved in an episode) make it seem as if her parents, while affectionate (Big Daddy especially), weren't exactly involved; she had to fight for their attention in constant competition with her siblings, particularly her sisters. There were only two people in her life whose love didn't feel dependent on her performance, her Mammy and George, and they both disappeared from her life abruptly and without any warning.

What does this teach a person? That they have to be the most attractive version of themselves at all times; that they need to be very careful with how they present themselves in society, so that they may always appear as the best within the bunch; that even the people who seem to love them unconditionally can leave them at any minute. The end result is Blanche, the woman in the mask. She seems very open in her attitude, especially towards the sexual sphere of life, but she's open in the same way the titular character of Fleabag is open:

Yeah, I think she’s using a certain type of honesty as a weapon of distraction. She talks very openly and honestly about sex so you feel like she’s being open with you when, actually, she’s completely hiding by doing that. She’s distracting you from a completely different side of her, which is the side that’s traumatized and in pain. (from this interview to Phoebe Waller-Bridge)

In truth, she's always very attentive to the way she presents herself to others, because she's afraid that people will turn away from her if she steps out of her persona. Look at what she says to her Mammy in S6E5 Wham, Bam, Thank You, Mammy:

You didn't even say goodbye. I woke up one morning, and you were gone. I loved you. I spent the next few years wondering what I'd done, what I'd said to make you leave me.

She's convinced (until this episode, at least) that she was abandoned by someone she loved so dearly because of something she'd done. And, well, George's death is a bit of a different thing, but also... do you think she hasn't spent long, sleepless nights wondering what would have happened if she'd convinced him not to go wherever he was going? If she'd gone with him? If she'd made different choices, if she'd said different things, if she'd been better?

What does all this have to do with queerness? Well... we know that some of Blanche's issues manifest in her constant concern with how society perceives her. This ranges from her search for rich and sophisticated men to parade around to her struggle to accept Rebecca's decision to undergo artificial insemination -- not to mention how she reacts to Clayton's coming out and especially to his decision to marry Doug. If that was how she reacted to a member of her family proudly coming out as gay, how would she react to the realization that she might also be queer in some way?

I figure the steps would be her usual ones -- denial denial denial, fear of judgement, bargaining with herself, eventual acceptance and even pride -- but with the added complexity of having to deal with something that concerns her and her desires. Not her daughter, not her brother, her. If she comes out and/or acts on her attraction, any eventual consequence from a societal standpoint would be due to her actions, not a reflection of someone close to her, and I feel like that would be interesting to explore. We already know she can get over her fear and prejudices when it comes to the people she loves; can she do the same for herself? I like to think she would, eventually, overcome her need for societal approval, just like she (sort of) does in the show, and the journey there would be fascinating from a character standpoint.

Rose

What about Rose? There's a minor thread in her character journey that's about fear of intimacy due to Charlie's death, but it gets resolved pretty early on (apart from an episode in S7, but I feel like that's more of a momentary setback than anything major). Apart from this, I think her character growth is about becoming bolder: more sure of herself, better at advocating for herself and her loved ones, better at asking people to respect her needs and wants.

This is a very minor spoiler for The Golden Palace, so thread with a pinch of caution, but -- in it, Dorothy is shocked that Rose became strong, and while I understand her surprise, I don't think that's necessarily the right word to use. Rose is meek, and gentle, and she certainly wasn't at her best at the beginning of the show (S1E9 Break In and S1E22 Job Hunting are proof enough), but I think we forget that she's overcome a lot throughout her life. It takes a strong person to recognize that her home is too filled with grief to keep living there, and uproot her whole life (leaving behind her whole community and support system) to begin to heal:

The winters are rough, here in Minnesota, and this place is too filled with memories to let me get on with my life. I need to start over without you, Charlie, and I think this is the best way. (from S2E25 A Piece Of Cake)

I think she's always been a tough cookie, and remarkably in touch with her emotions, even if her grief for Charlie momentarily weakened her. Living with the Girls helps her get her conviction back and gain the newfound boldness she needs to know she has a spine of steel and use it when the moment calls for it.

Realizing that she might be queer would encourage her in this journey towards boldness, I feel. I don't think she'd have any internal hang-ups like Dorothy and Blanche would (her sort of reticence towards homosexuality in the show seems like it comes from a place of ignorance, rather than repression), but we know she can be sensitive to societal perception, even if not at Blanche's level (see S1E13 A Little Romance), and a queer relationship is the sort of thing that, unfortunately, invites a lot of societal scrutiny. The need to be there and ensure the safety and happiness of her partner(s) would embolden her to show her strength and aid her journey as a character.

Sophia

As an addendum: what would a coming out from any of her three Girls (Dorothy especially) mean for Sophia? In the show she's always supportive of homosexuality:

Jean is a nice person; she just likes girls instead of guys. Some people like cats instead of dogs. Frankly, I'd rather live with a lesbian than a cat. Unless a lesbian sheds, that I don't know. I'll tell you the truth, Dorothy. If one of my kids was gay, I wouldn't love him one bit less. I would wish him all the happiness in the world. (S2E5 Isn't It Romantic?)

That's what Doug and Clayton want, too. Everyone wants someone to grow old with. And shouldn't everyone have that chance? (S6E14 Sisters Of The Bride)

However, she's also shown to have some hang-ups when it comes to this sort of thing. Her issues with Phil's cross-dressing are the best example, but I'd count her attitude towards Rose while they're waiting for her AIDS test results in the mix, too. I wonder if a coming out from (one of) her Girls would prove more difficult to handle? I have no doubts that she'd come around in the end, of course -- I just wonder if she might have to work at it a bit first (and if her reaction to Dorothy coming out would be any different from her reaction to Blanche and/or Rose coming out).

Sophia's journey in the show is subtle, and the one I find harder to pinpoint. My personal opinion is that she gradually becomes softer around the edges, more open and openly vulnerable with the Girls; she gets more playful, more relaxed, more in her element as the show progresses. I think it's possible that a coming out from (one of) her Girls would encourage this progression towards openness; having her loved ones confide in her about something so personal would invite more confidence from her part too.

Whew, that was a long answer! It's a mess and I'm sure there's lots more that could be explored -- these are just some of my thoughts finally put on paper. If anyone has anything to add (or any contrasting opinion too!!) I'd love to read what you think!! In the meantime, anon, thank you so much for this ask. You seriously made my week!

[spoiledleaff]

💚✨ POLL RESULTS!! ✨💚

hehe, a tremendous thank you to everyone who participated in my fic plot poll, haha!! i know i kept the actual specifics of it incredibly vague, but!! now that it’s all done, i think you all deserve to know what you’re signing up for! ♡

first, the winner!! lingerie group sex with some era iv ghoulies!! ✨🎉 haha!! it was a pretty close one, that’s for sure!! without further ado. what’s the plan?

well! i’m so glad you asked!! the pairing for this fic is going to be swiss + the ghoulettes! this fic is planned to feature plenty of femdom, dom/sub dynamics and procedures, strapons and toys, sexual photography, polyamory, ghoul anatomy, and it’ll all be wrapped up in a pretty little bow like lingerie, haha!! ohh, but i know you’re not convinced! where’s the classic leaf gender fuckery? well, for this work, i present to you she/her transfem sunny manifesting her monster of a cock, and!! the main event!! i also present to you she/her gender-fluid swiss manifesting a pussy!! :D hehe, the dynamic is gonna be our lovely ghoulettes domming the swissussy and making sure it’s thoroughly wrecked. oh, all wrapped up in lace and silk, of course!! ♡♡

i’m gonna also be rambling about what the other options were below the cut!! if you’re not interested, that’s a-okay, my friend!! but, i’ve grown rather attached to these little plot points, so they may become ficlets or even fully fledged projects one day if anyone’s interested, haha!! this was just a fun break from whatever silly little storyline i may have from the hatefuck fic! ♡

haha, alright!! let’s do this in order of popularity, yeah? so! runner up was ovipositor with a twist featuring everybody’s favorite lads from era iii !!! :D this work would’ve featured terzo + omega, and it was honestly just a fun idea i had as an excuse to dive into more ghoul anatomy, haha! i feel like this work would’ve been a bit shorter, but the main idea was essentially terzo physically fucking both omega’s cock sheath, as well as another more desperate scene of terzo fucking omega’s dick hole. i’m realizing now i probably didn’t hint at this one perfectly?? but! that was the idea, haha! lots of big dick jokes as well as sappy, flirty teasing, and these lads bickering like an old married couple, haha! basically! ovipositor anatomy, but instead of something being… er, ejected from omega’s cock? some(one)thing is being inserted! ♡

third place was my personal favorite, haha! this one was confessional gang bang featuring just about the entire cast of era iii !!! :D the pairing for this would’ve featured zephyr + uh… well, everybody else, haha!! i am such a sucker for my usual everybody loves everybody bullshit, haha! anyways, the premise of this fic was actually inspired by those anonymous gloryhole tropes?? for both sucking and dick and sucking and fucking pussy and/or ass, haha!! although, for this, it would neither be anonymous or limited to just one side ♡ this fic would’ve featured confessional sex, plenty of dom/sub dynamics and bondage, probably mention free use between ghouls and their respective relationships and social structures. oh! also plenty of leaf gender fuckery starting with they/he intersex zephyr, as well as an excuse for me to dive into my personal characterizations for a lot of the era iii ghouls!! i still like the idea of this fic a lot!! so the chances of this actually becoming something are quite high, haha!! ♡

and, last but not least! this one, i think was probably a bit of a throw away idea? but i’d been thinking about it so much already that i said, ‘eh. why not, haha!’ anyways! the prompt was rough punishment sex featuring two silly lads from era iv !!! :D this fic wouldn’t paired up mountain + swiss together, and it would’ve focused on their specific dynamic! that one video with swiss trying to give mountain the rose?? it forever haunts me, my friend. haha! i also just like the idea of their dynamic a lot, and i wanted to try writing something… er, a bit more intense than what i typically default to :) so! this fic would’ve featured a lot of discussed and consensual dom/sub dynamics with dom mountain and sub swiss! as well as things like spitting and ignoring, impact play, bandage, humiliation and degradation, as well as some well deserved aftercare!! i was also playing around with the idea of including some more… extreme?? kinks?? i was debating on things like boot kinks, cock and ball torture, maybe piss play?? that sort of thing!! :) haha! i had a feeling, even though it was a bit of a throw away idea, that it wouldn’t get too many votes? especially considering i’m still atoning for my crimes with my hatefuck fic, haha!! regardless, it’s always nice to know how many of you are depraved animals, haha!! (/affectionately said, my friends! because, well, same!!) ♡♡♡

(well, uh, that was it really!! :) this was just a silly little game i wanted to try with the poll feature, but it’s lovely to know that so many of you are at least a little invested in my writing, haha!! i may try this again in the future, haha!! it was quite fun to do! i hope to see everyone with the next filthy, debauched, smutty project, hehe! ♡♡)

[hopeymchope]

“Love After World Domination” isn’t interested in its own damn premise

“Love After World Domination” isn’t a BAD manga/anime. It’s actually pretty good..... at what it chooses to do. 

It’s just that what it chooses to do is DEEPLY FRUSTRATING. Because it chooses to straight-up IGNORE ITS FUCKING PREMISE.

So here’s what I’m gonna do.

1) I’m going to briefly explain The Premise. 

2) Next, I’ll tell you What We Got Instead. Which will include details of the (minimal) ways in which they explored the premise before just giving the hell up and making this something that doesn’t need the base premise at all.

3) Finally, I invite you to Consider Other Possibilities. I’m essentially going to propose some ways they could’ve tried to dig into this premise without betraying the lighthearted, goofy nature of the show. This section here? This is basically fanfic corner.

THE PREMISE:

“Love After World Domination” is a romantic comedy in which a superhero and supervillain — both considered rising stars in their respective fields — somehow fall in love with one another over the course of repeated confrontations. They begin dating in secret, desperate not to let their respective teams know what they’re up to. And: Antics ensue.

To be more specific about our setup: We are in the realm of Sentai/Power Rangers parody here. Our hero is the team leader, the Red Ranger (a.k.a. Fudō). Our heroine is considered one of the most dangerous lieutenants for the enemy organization — the deadly Reaper Princess (a.k.a. Desumi).

Don’t let this gif make you think this an action show. It is absolutely not.

Who doesn’t love a story about star-crossed lovers, right? This is “enemies-to-lovers” at its absolute purest. I guess love really can bloom on the battlefield, Otacon!

Besides, a love story between a hero and villain is so much more than your typical kind of “star-crossed.” Imagine how much fun we can have watching their opposing goals and morals clash! That’s the entire core of the idea, right?! It’s like having a demon fall for an angel — it’s a notion that’s beautiful, poetic, and fascinating! The most powerful superhero on the side of good hooks up with the first lieutenant on the side of evil? That’s like, Captain Marvel and Ebony Maw falling in love in the middle of the Infinity War/Endgame crisis! (...or feel free to substitute Maw with Proxima Midnight if you prefer.)

Imagine how they might compromise on their individual desires in funny/entertaining ways because they care more about one another than they do about their roles, which gradually makes them (either one - or both!) understand the other side of the conflict better. Maybe they gradually drift to becoming centrists in the fight, or maybe one slowly drifts to the opposite side. Or... maybe we could get some serious, dramatic interludes amongst all the comedy wherein they must confront just how disparate their individual ethics really are, then question whether the relationship is worth it. Hey, I usually enjoy when a series tries to juggle multiple shifting tones! And I think it only enhances a comedy when you can make the emotions underneath the goofiness carry real weight. 

HOWEVER...

The show isn’t interested in exploring a romantic relationship between a hero and a villain. It can barely give a single, solitary fuck about that concept.

WHAT WE GOT INSTEAD:

The relationship between Fudō and Desumi is treated exactly like any other story where the people dating are all “Oh no, my peers/family would so greatly disapprove of this!” They might as well be from competing business or opposing families. They might as well be from the Montagues and the Capulets. They could be Vision and Wanda, for god’s sake. Desumi, the goddamn Reaper Princess, could just as easily be ANY teenage girl who’s trying to date a person of color while dealing a super-racist father.

Although the “hide the significant other” game can be fun in and of itself, that’s... not the promise of the setup. It’s part of the promise, I suppose, but as I said, there are plenty of stories that do that already in various genres. The interesting thing is the thing that’s the most unique - the fact that they’re on opposite sides of an ongoing super-powered conflict. 

I mean, SURE, when the series begins, they’re forced to still pretend to be fighting one another whenever they meet up on the battlefield. Right from the jump — indeed, the first scene of the first ep! — we find our characters in the first stages of their relationship and trying to get some time alone together in the midst of a battle. We quickly learn that they both have basically zero dating experience this before point, and they’re researching such things online to figure out what they’re supposed to be doing — very cute. One of the hero’s teammates comes over the ridge unexpectedly while our couple is hanging out, which requires them to suddenly act as though their date is actually a brutal battle.

This stuff is fun. And we get flashbacks to the development of the relationship that are equally fun. The bits with them acting as though they’re enemies while in public yet simultaneously managing to secretly plan dates or compliment one another? Like I said — best material in the series. 

So naturally, that is all abandoned after two friggin’ episodes.

The only other way the concept is ever explored is through (so far, as of episode eight) just two one-second comedic exchanges. Both of which boil down to: Desumi says she’ll solve a problem by killing someone, and then Fudō quickly interjects to remind her that she REALLY shouldn’t do that. And the whole KILLING PEOPLE subject is instantly dropped, with neither of them discussing the fact that... Desumi wants to murder people and claims she’s quite good at it? And Fudō is clearly (and naturally) extremely anti-murder? So like, how do they square those two approaches between one another? 

.................................... Stop asking. It doesn’t matter. They’re not gonna talk about that.

In fact, Desumi is ultimately not even that evil to begin with! She’s a pure-hearted soul who is just trying to follow in her father’s footsteps by working in the field HE wanted for her. In fact, she didn’t even apply for this job! Her family applied FOR HER! So she’s never even been evil at all! 

She’s not invested in doing evil; she’s just naturally good at it. She can come up with evil plans totally by accident while pursuing wholesome goals. She loves her co-workers enough that she doesn’t intend to leave her position, but she simultaneously has no investment in or interest in the titular World Domination that her boss is pursuing. 

................which undercuts the core premise that was used to get us to come here in the first place.

The Series Asks: “How will two people from opposing sides of an ongoing battle make their star-crossed romance work?”

The Series Answers:

The majority of the series is simply “We’ll be in trouble if our friends/family find out!” and the cover-up antics that ensue. 

Plus SO FAR, THEY HAVE BEEN WRONG TO BE CONCERNED. Admittedly, I haven’t finished the story. (I’m 8.5 episodes into the anime, and I’m not sure whether I’ll go the distance with this.) But at this point, everybody who’s found out about it is totally in support of their relationship! And NOT ONE of them says “Hey, uh, how can you possibly date someone who’s... y’know... like that... ?” 

CONSIDER OTHER POSSIBILITIES:

If you’re like me, the very concept of this series immediately starts your mind racing with questions and possibilities. Straight away, I heard it and thought: “What happens when they meet and face off in public view during a battle? How do they manage to fall for each other while having diametrically opposed worldviews — and how will they confront each other and/or compromise over their conflicting moralities?”

The former question, I imagined, would be fairly easy to address even though it could still be fun to see it play out. I pondered, “Perhaps they could choreograph their combat or signal one another/quietly tell each other their moves, like professional wrestlers?” And check it out: Pretty early on, this idea was proven to be exactly how the series would deal with that issue.

I absolutely *nailed* this!

....but I think the latter question is where the real gold mine lays for comedic potential. Yes, REALLY! I understand that maybe you’re thinking “But this is a show about wacky hijinks which never confronts anything seriously.” But, although my suggestion may sound like fodder for drama, you can definitely just have FUN with it! 

Imagine our leads having to compromise on the most extreme elements of their personal moral compasses in order to make their relationship work. She could be like “I’ll stop murdering people if you stop reporting graffiti artists and jaywalkers to the police” or something. I mean, they’d obviously like each other so much in so many other ways that they’re both willing to work through/overlook their radical differences. That’s heartwarming, and it can also be legitimately funny.

Let me draft one possible example:

---------------------------------------------------------------

The Scenario: Our leads are on the phone together

Hero: Hey, are you free to have dinner tonight? I know it’s short notice, but-

Villain: *delighted* Oh, absolutely! As soon as I’m finished torturing the mayor for information, I can grab-

Hero: *interrupting* Uh, sweetie?

Villain: *realizing* Oh riiiiight. Right, right. *sheepishly* I... said I was gonna stop torturing people, didn’t I?

Hero: *firmly* You did.

Villain: *whining* But it’s so fuuuuuuun...

Hero: *gently* Come on now, honey. We’re both trying to compromise, remember?

Villain: I know, I know. I promise that I’m trying to do better, ok? Old habits just die hard, haha! *murmuring* -and so does the mayor.

Hero: *laughing good-naturedly* I get it, really. Do you think it’s been easy for me to just stand by and try to ignore your public acts of property destruction?

Villain: *grumbling* Kinda seems easy...

Hero: It’s really not! I’m supposed to stand up for truth and justice and all the other stuff! At the end of the day, I can’t stop trying to give the public hope and security any more than you could ever stop trying to make them live in fear. *affectionately* And, honestly? That dedication to your work ethic is something I love about you.

Villain: *blushing* Aww, baby...

Hero: Even so, I think it’s important for us to try and shave off our most extreme edges. Just a little bit, understand? That’s how we’re gonna make this work

Villain: I know. I get it. *clearly nervous* So, um... look. If I stop torturing the mayor, then... after dinner... could you do me a favor?

Hero: Y-yes?

Villain: Can you, y’know... look the other way? While I break into a nice car for us to drive around town in?

Hero: *pauses to think* ....yes. *obviously struggling* I will... I’ll... you... *gritting teeth* you may commit grand theft auto.

Villain: *excited* You’re the best, you know that?!

Hero: .........this is a one-time thing, right?

Villain: *teasing* No promises, ya big dork!

Hero: *speaking softly, almost to himself* I just need to remember: I’m doing this for love. I’m doing this for love.

Villain: Oh my gosh, I’m so pumped! Can we have dinner early?!

Hero: *happily* I don’t see why not!

Villain: Fantastic! Just let me kill the mayor real quick, and I’ll get-

Hero: *CLEARS THROAT LOUDLY*

Villain: *moment of silence as her mistake sinks in* *facepalming* God DAMN it.

---------------------------------------------------------------

Or — and maybe this is better? — our hero and villain could find that they both share a particular hobby, only to find that their motivations are both wildly different AND surprisingly similar at the same time.

In that vein, Side Idea 1: What if they both volunteer at the homeless shelter in their free time? The hero wants to support those in need because he believes kindness will make the world a better place. The villain thinks it’s important to support the poorest among us because the system is utterly broken, keeping them down, and that’s why she wants to tear the system down and start over. And the hero at first is like “Uh, whoa there, let’s step back a whole bunch from that ledge” but realizes the he actually agrees that sustained inequality is kind of baked into modern society. And she’s like “So you get it! You get why we need to destroy the world’s governments and create a new system out of the ashes!” and he’s like “Oooorrrrr, maybe we could just encourage people to support programs that assist the downtrodden and educate the poor on how to vote in favor of their own interests, or something like that? Hm?”

Side Idea 2: Maybe they both love animals and they both have pets, and THAT’S the common ground. So the hero is like “My dog is my loyal companion. She is sweet, smart, and always has my back. I take her out to the dog park every Sunday. We jog, we play fetch together — it’s delightful.” And the villain enthuses, “I love dogs, too! I have three beautiful doggos! And yeah, they’re totally smart. I’ve actually trained them to rip out the throats of my enemies on command! They’re the best!”

*deep breath*

Unfortunately... we have to cope with the anime we got instead of dreaming idly about the one we deserved.

And what we got is... fine. Pretty good, even? Probably! It’s hard for me to separate what I feel it could’ve been from what it is.

It’s a sweet teenage romcom about a couple trying to keep their relationship on the DL so they don’t get in trouble. Friends, family, co-workers, and even the press must be dodged effectively at different times. Some cute things happen as they maneuver around all this. 

And the fact that they’re both so new to love really makes their interactions feel as pure as the driven snow. 

But... there are plenty of teenage romances with similar setups. Two people who’re new to dating? Sure, that’s easy. Two people in a secret relationship? Of course that’s out there.

I wanted then to really dig into the whole “Hero and Villain romance” thing on SOME level, even if it was just a silly one. That, to me, is the elevator pitch — “a romcom about a superhero and supervillain in love.” But they kick that angle to the curb right quick, leaving behind stuff you’ve seen before in plenty of anime romcoms. Though at least there’s a thin Sentai/Power Rangers parody overlaid on top.

[nealcassatiel]

Supernatural and Russia and the mess of Television Legal Contracts

One of the most important aspects of a television series’ life cycle is its distribution. It is in the stage of distribution when the production companies/studio recoup the largest amount of costs.

By looking at who distributes the show, as well as which companies stand to gain the most from distribution profits, we can gain greater understanding of the various complex agreements and finances at play.

Viewing Statistics in the USA, Russia, and other International Territories

Let’s take a look at where Supernatural is distributed, and it’s popularity in the countries in which it airs. 

After the US, in the past 30 days, Supernatural’s next biggest market is in Russia. The next is in Brazil. 

This got long - more under the cut (I’ll be talking about cuts shortly)

In Russia, Supernatural has been in the top 0.2% watched shows in Russia (link) . This is also the case in Brazil. 

In 2019, a modest survey was done on urban and rural Russians asking them what foreign television they watch. Supernatural was the 6th most mentioned foreign television show (link).

In 2017, Supernatural was three times more popular in Russia than it was in the US (link - this article has just a whole other host of information about it being popular amongst urban and rural US residents, as well as popular amongst both Republics and Democrats, however i haven’t looked further into that data so not going to discuss it much here)

So selling Supernatural to Russia and airing it in Russia is going to bring in a lot of revenue for The C*W and the production companies. That is a lucrative distribution territory and of a huge amount of importance to the network. Russia will air both new episodes, and reruns. Of course, if Supernatural made a queer love story a central premise, then execs are going to get scared that not only will the finale may not be aired in one of their biggest, if not their biggest market: Russia, but that the broadcasters who distribute the show in Russia might also pull the rest of the show and stop broadcasting reruns too. That’s a shit tonne fo distribution profits gone for The C*W, and who knows, maybe their relationship with Russian broadcasters who air their other shows will be on the rocks. After all, trying to sell gay tv to Russians right now is, sadly, never going to happen. This is not an indictment on the Russian viewers, but me saying that the show won’t be sellable to Russian broadcasters if it is too queer.

A huge huge majority of US Supernatural fans are progressive and wanted the more queer focused and found family ending. But the C*W and Warner believes that there are still enough US fans who don’t want something that progressive to be shown. They also know that one of their biggest markets is Russia, and Dean being shown to be bi will not go down well there. I’m just speculating, but The C*W may have looked at those chunks of audience who give them money and decide that they only care about those profits. 

The frustrating thing however, is that no matter the power of Russian Supernatural audiences, looking at the other progressive countries and the popularity of Supernatural there - these numbers as a collective outshine those of Russia. So maybe Russia isn’t that important. Or maybe all The C*W needed to think was ‘we don’t want to stop profits from our biggest international viewership’ and so they never even went further and thought about the collective viewership of the audiences from progressive countries. As I said at the start, distribution is where the companies who invested into making a show recoup the most costs. All the money that comes from distribution is incredibly important.

DISTRIBUTION AND CO-PRODUCTION AGREEMENTS

The writers, the crew, the actors, don’t really get the distribution profits. They may get small cuts of things or bonuses here and there, but they’re all essentially employed by the production company. It is the production company and studio who has sunken money into making the show who will get a cut of the distribution profits. So the production companies and co-production companies, the creator (maybe still if they had a good agent when they first sold the pitch), the network are all going to be the ones to care about how much a finale will matter to profits from showing reruns in less progressive countries. Dabb is an employee - he personally will be paid a fixed sum which is given to him by the production company. He does not care if SPN can’t be aired in Russia - that has no personal affect on him. He was paid to showrun the series and he’ll get nothing more even if it becomes the most watched anti-gay homophobic celebrated show in Moscow. He has no financial reason to cater to anyone. He’s just an employee. 

But if information like this, the knowledge that for multiple years TPTB have wanted Supernatural to cater to a non-progressive international and national audience for the sake of distribution profits, then the show should have never have taken the narrative to a place whose ending could not be green-lit.

If for the sake of these pofits and other secondary rights, for the sake of appeasing rural/southern USA viewers, and trying to keep an audience for Walker, The C*W derailed the final two episodes, then I still don’t fully understand why the ending was heading towards destiel when all of this distribution finance information has been known for many many years. 

It makes sense why such a terrible finale would happen, but it doesn’t make sense why up until episode 18, the entire narrative of the show was leading somewhere completely different? Why were the writers of SPN heading straight towards one thing, if they knew they always knew that they’d have to have a completely different ending? 

The Right of Final Cut / Final Cut Privilege

The answer may lie in the fact that The C*W wasn’t really paying that much attention to SPN, they couldn’t really see all the subtext, but suddenly the subtext all was going to become text and they were all twiddling their thumbs and looking for something to do during COVID when the industry shut down, so they suddenly got way more involved. 

Let’s quickly clear up who The C*W is and how they relate to SPN as a company. Supernatural lists The C*W as one of it’s distributers, but lists Warner Bros Television as a production company. When SPN started it was made by The WB (which is now The C*W). It’s all under Warner Media anyway, but we can basically say that Warner Bros Television (listed as a co-producer of SPN) is the sam as The C*W who is listed as a distributer of SPN. They’re essentially the same so The C*W is both producing and distributing SPN, as well as owning the format rights to the show - sorry that’s all complicated anyway The C*W are the big dogs who own Supernatural and have done from the beginning back when they were called The WB)

Essentially, The C*W have a co-production and distribution agreement for SPN. The power they have from that first agreement when they bought the show off Kripke is almost certainly still MASSIVE today. They are not only the ultimate distributers, but the ultimate producers with all the agreements and all the rights. 

Anyway, back to that first agreement: This was Kripke’s first big deal, and he almost certainly gave Warner Bros/The C*W a whole host of creative control in exchange for them sinking a shit tonne of money into making the show. Which makes me wonder if The C*W has something in entertainment law called “the right of final cut/final cut privilege”. If a studio or distributer has sunken a heck tonne of costs into making the series and are the ones who most need to recoup the distribution costs, then in their contract they may try to give themselves the ‘final cut privilege’ - essentially, this is the final edit. There’s the Director’s Cut, but then after that there is the Final Cut. The Final Cut is what is broadcast. Nowadays, most series and films don’t allow the directors to have final cut privilege anyway - it’s fairly rare from my understanding (one of my hats is a television legal contracts assistant, and all of these contracts still confuse me even though it’s an element of my job - I’m not trained in this outside of work so i apologise if this isn’t clear). The studio or distributer doesn’t even need to clear their final cut with the writer/director/producer. They can just do it. Cut it up and broadcast it, because they’re allowed to in their contract.

So with the finale episode being so short, a mess of montages, Carry on My Wayward Son versions back to back, a narrative mess, the pacing completely off, some scenes way too short and others way too long - this really could insinuate that the stupid clause of ‘the right of final cut’ was utilised by The C*W and without the need to get the permission or allowance of Dabb or even the other production companies, they edited everything they didn’t like out of the finale, citing their contract and the fact that they’re the ones who need to recoup distribution costs, and they don’t want to piss off large swathes of their national and international audience.

In Conclusion

So positives? Well, now that SPN is done and dusted, if there is a spin-off then this shouldn't affect distribution deals in Russia or Brazil. If whoever buys the format rights for Supernatural, allows The C*W to still sell the old series distribution rights, then market the new season of SPN not as a new season but a spin-off, then this will give them more freedom to not cater to the conservative international and national audiences SPN was beholden to due to distribution profits. What I’m saying is - a spin-off could free itself from catering to anyone who isn’t progressive. The old audiences can carry on showing reruns of SPN and completely ignore the new ‘fake’ gay spin-off. They can say that it’s a different production company, a different network - and therefore not the legitimate show. Great. Free SPN. 

A new format agreement could also mean that the new producers could ensure that not the distributer, but the director, or the new trusted production company themselves gets the Right of Final Cut. If another agreement is made, please please please take that right away from The C*W/Warner. 

The difficulty in getting the SPN rights would be caused by the mess of a Format Agreement to even get those rights... Supernatural is co-produced by Kripke Enterprises, Warner Bros. Television, Supernatural Films, and Wonderland Sound and Vision. I’m assuming Kripke Enterprises and Supernatural Films may be under Warner Media (as Warner Bros and The C*W itself is). If Jensen wanted to produce the new spin-off then his new production company is under WB/Warner Media too... so. Disentangling meddling and shitty Warner Media execs from a spin-off would be difficult because they own everyone. 

All in all, it’s easy to see now with that mess of a finale that this was caused with whoever has “The Right Of Final Cut/Final Cut Privilege’. And I HIGHLY doubt Singer or Dabb or any mere employee on the show has it. It’s more and more obvious to me that this power lies in the hands of The C*W/Warner and they didn’t even try to loop Dabb or the main cast in when making the final edits. I’m sure the C*W started to get involved at episode 19 and in the development stage of episode 20, but i’m certain they had a hand in the disastrous final cut. 

I hope we’re able to pry our beloved show out of the hands of those who don’t care about its narratives, but have more power than anyone to change the show’s narratives. Thanks for coming with me on this essay/me working out this complicated mess. It’s 00:50 and I'm super tired so I hope all this makes sense. Television contracts confuse me and I work with them so i dunno how clear any of this is. 

Anyway - I hope it was totally boring.  

[consumeconstantly]

Who Are You (and what will you become?)

1(you are here)| 2 | 3 | 4

Summary: “Over the years, I have found that blood means very little.” 

The ice clicks against the glass almost inaudibly, condensation dripping down the side. 

“So tell me, M. Wayne, why do you think I should even begin to consider you my father?” (all biodad bruce can be read as stand alone but are posted in chronological order)

__________________________________________________

At the tender age of nineteen, Marinette Dupain-Cheng has already become a jaded woman. It doesn’t shine through very often, hidden behind a carefully crafted facade of Parisian-brand carefree attractiveness and pigtailed youthfulness, but there exists, in Marinette, a certain bitterness.

“For a vigilante, you’re not very secretive,” Marinette remarks, keeping her tone measured, almost playful, so as not to draw attention to herself. 

“Marinette.” Bruce inclines his head and allows the bartender to serve him a whiskey sour. He doesn’t drink alcohol because it alters his mental state in ways that are unpleasant, but ordering a drink helps him fit in, and with Marinette, the person he wants to talk to, right at his side, he can’t have his normal ginger ale substitute. “It’s good to see you.”

“Mmm.” She takes a sip of her French 75, playing up an interest that Bruce knows is a lie. “M. Wayne, you say that as though we’re familiar with each other.”

“Sabine and I were close,” he says. 

Sabine is one of the few people who knew about his existence as Batman that didn’t live in Gotham. Many years ago, they were friends. Colleagues. (More.) Of course she told her daughter about who he was. How could she not have? 

Sabine is-- she was--

“Close, you call it,” she says with mock awe, words slurring together. “Closer than close, really. Too close for comfort— at least, too close for you.”

When Bruce and Sabine’s paths crossed all those years ago, he was struggling trying to raise Dick. Sabine was equal parts a mother and a mentor to Dick in all the ways that Bruce couldn’t be. When she left for Paris so abruptly after the two of them parted ways, Dick didn’t take it very well. Even moreso when communications halted permanently. The fact that the radio silence coincided with Marinette’s birth is something only Bruce is privy to.

However awkwardly he and Sabine left off, it doesn’t change the facts. Bruce’s lips thin. “I’m here to offer you a home.”

Swirling her French, Marinette taps at her phone, swiping away at a few messages that she’s not interested in. “I’m nineteen and more than capable of taking care of myself. Though I suppose it stands to reason that it would be difficult for you to know that, what with how busy your extracurriculars keep you.”

“I’m not doubting your capabilities.” He’s looked into what Marinette has been up to over the past nineteen years of her life. He’s never been particularly concerned with her upbringing, not with a woman like Sabine at the helm of her childhood. Bruce was right not to be worried; Marinette has grown into a multi talented, extremely well connected entrepreneur based on her own hard work. Judging by the crowd that she runs with and the multiple charities that she supports both financially and with her own time, she will be a force to be reckoned with in a few years; Tim regularly extols the virtues of the brand MDC, and if he knew that he was sisters with the designer, he’d never stop raving about her. MDC is already being compared to the likes of Dior and Gabriel when they were first starting out. Her finances aren’t anything to scoff at, and at a few galas and charity parties that he’s had to entertain, anyone who's had the privilege to wear an MDC original talks about how sweet and kind the head designer is while complimenting the CEO’s business savvy.

Bruce has to admit that he’s impressed by how she manages to keep her identities separate. No one suspects the head designer to also be manning publicity and business. 

He’s been watching her for the past day, and he has to say, for somebody whose parents just died, she carries herself with remarkable ease. If not for the red around her eyes and line of shots on the bartop, Bruce would believe that Tom and Sabine’s death didn’t phase her at all. 

“There’s a but, isn’t there?” Marinette says bitterly.

She’s right in that assumption. As skillful as Marinette is in her field, she has no practical combat experience. A brief stint in fencing and martial arts but nothing beyond that. Even if she practiced martial arts for years, that wouldn’t be enough to convince Bruce to let her go off on her own. Martial arts as a hobby is an entirely different game than fighting for one’s life. 

Marinette is simply not the kind of person who can face down a League member and come out of it alive. 

“It’s for your safety.”

For the first time since entering the bar, Bruce sees a flash of true emotion cross Marinette’s eyes. It’s hard to see the color of her eyes in the dim lighting, but it’s impossible not to see Sabine in how her eyes narrow. Perhaps the dim lighting makes it easier to; in the light of day, Marinette’s eye color— it’s too similar to the shade he sees in the mirror. 

“My safety? What about my parent’s safety?” 

At that, Bruce internally cringes while keeping his face carefully blank. Tom and Sabine… their end wasn’t pretty. Not the most gruesome deaths he’s ever seen, but it was up there. Bruce never thought the League would do something as cruel as desecrating the corpses of the people they murdered. They may be assassins for hire, but most times, they do have some sort of morals. 

The worst part about it is that their death is most likely a result of Sabine’s past relationship with him. Last month, a tabloid that drew comparisons between Marinette and Bruce. It didn’t take long for another person to dredge up pictures from when he was still with Sabine. Tom and Sabine didn’t have enemies well-off enough to hire the League. But Bruce? Bruce did. 

“I’m not interested in any protection you have to offer me.” Marinette shakes her head. “Don’t worry. I’m not like you. I won’t become a vigilante out of rage or as a coping mechanism. I’m not going to go chasing after the League in a foolish pursuit of misguided justice.”

But Marinette doesn’t understand. She has a target on her back with her newfound association to him.  

“I haven’t been active in your life--”

“Understatement of the year,” Marinette mutters.

“--but I’m not going to let you die when I can prevent it.”

Downing the rest of her French, she takes the Moscow Mule away from Bruce’s hands, eyeing the liquor up on display. She drinks the cold alcohol and revels in the burn that slides down her throat. Marinette swipes on one of the notifications she’s received on her phone in order to respond to it. “You’re a good man, Bruce. But your desire to protect me— what does it stem from? What do we have in common? Why would you use your time and effort on what’s essentially a stranger?”

Bruce has no good answer for this, but he has an obvious one. As soon as it leaves his tongue, it feels wrong. “We share the same blood.”

He can’t bring himself to call Marinette his daughter. That means that he would be her father and he’s not deserving of that title.

Marinette pockets her phone, eyes trained on a set of unusually shaped glasses on the shelves. “If that’s your answer, M. Wayne, let me tell you something. Over the years, I have found that blood means very little.” 

The bartender comes around and tops off the whiskey sour. The ice clicks against the glass almost inaudibly, condensation dripping down the side. Bruce can’t tell whether the bartender knows Marinette or not, but he certainly looks concerned enough to, with how his eyes shift between Marinette and himself rapid fire. When the bartender’s gaze settles on Bruce, mouth turned downward, clearly suspicious of his presence, Marinette just waves him off with a gentle smile. 

Her smile turns up the same way Tom’s did. She’s right; family is more than blood. 

“Your answer to why you want to protect me is that we share blood, but you speak nothing of our relationship. Shouldn’t that have been the first thing you brought up?”

Bruce shifts uncomfortably on the bar stool. Marinette just laughs at his apparent awkwardness. “Talking of blood relations seems to be something you don’t enjoy, and yet the entire premise of your protection rests on it. Tell me, M. Wayne, do you think I should even begin to consider you my father?”

Even as inebriated as Marinette must be, she brings up points that he himself wondered on his way to Paris. Wanting to see Marinette safe goes beyond a simple duty to morality and virtue. Though Bruce is known for adopting kids with tragic backstories, it simply isn’t feasible to adopt every single one he comes across. To bring Marinette into his family at this age, to expose her to the life he lives would be beyond cruel. In essence he’d be replacing two parents with a ticking time bomb: himself. 

“Don’t consider me a parent, just a guardian. It’s in my best interest to see you safe, and the best way to do that is to have you move to Gotham, where my colleagues and I can assure you around the clock protection.”

At first, he distanced himself from Sabine and Marinette because he didn’t want to disrupt her current relationship with Tom. Even if the two of them insisted that he could still be part of Marinette’s life, it just didn’t feel right to have the title of father when he wasn’t the one to put in any of the hard work. Then, as Tom and Sabine grew more comfortable in their life together, settled down and opened up a bakery, he was blindsided by Jason’s death. As his daughter grew older and older, there were just too many things in his own life for him to ever hope to kindle a relationship with Marinette.

Marinette laughs, but it’s really more of a bark. Her voice is too hoarse for it to come out any other way. Bruce can’t imagine how much she’s cried this past week. “If you wanted to keep me safe, where were you a week ago? Where were you two years ago? Where were you when I was thirteen? M. Wayne, I’ve heard a lot of rumors about you throughout the years, and I’ve always brushed them off as nothing more than tabloid gossip. But perhaps they got one thing right about you: you’re a liar.”

Marinette stands, swaying slightly.

“This— if you truly want me to uproot my life, I need more than you saying it’s in your best interest. I need—” Marinette reaches up to her earrings and allows her eyes to flutter shut. She needs more than a distant guardian. She needs someone to confide in. Someone she trusts. “It was nice meeting you, but I don’t need your pity. Not now.”

As she weaves through the crowd, Bruce can’t help but wonder whether he made the right decision all those years ago to not be apart of her life.

@biodad-bruce-month

Late to the game as always. This will be a multichapter fic but all parts can be read as one shots (and also as always anything posted to tumblr is never checked for accuracy and stuff so whoop)! They’ll be released in chronological order. If you want to get tagged in all things maribat, instead of commenting it under a fic, I’d appreciate an ask or a dm instead! I haven’t been able to go back through all the previous comments and create a taglist yet but perhaps. eventually. 

[nonbinaryhatboxghost]

So, I finished watching Star Trek: Voyager. (spoilers throughout)

I started watching the show a couple of years ago, and I remember being impressed at how solid its pilot was. Star Trek shows (in my experience) have a history of starting out a bit rough before figuring themselves out, and it felt like Voyager had a pretty solid identity figured out right from the get-go.

But while I have loved watching the show as a whole, it felt like it went through multiple identity crises along the way.

It’s frustrating because the show contains the best depiction of the weight of being in the captain’s chair out of any Star Trek story I have ever seen. Janeway herself is just a great character in general, but getting moments like the finale of “Tuvix” or literally any scene in “Year of Hell” go much further in depicting the effect of leadership on our lead character than one would expect in a Trek show.

Over the course of my viewing of Voyager, I noticed that I tended to respond more to darker episodes than others. “Meld”, in which Tuvok mind-melds with a serial killer Betazoid played by the great Brad Dourif, is one example. “Mortal Coil”, in which Neelix experiences a crisis of faith after a death experience, is another favorite. And while I am indeed a sucker for a quality dark Trek story, the main reason that I believe I favored these kinds of episodes was because they felt like they had an impact on the characters.

Most of the blockbuster two-parters over the course of the show didn’t really stick with me, despite some very fun premises. And it’s because, with the exception of “Scorpion”, most of these two-parters tended to resolve in a way that completely undid any semblance of consequence on future episodes.

The most egregious example of this is the ending of “Year of Hell”, a two-parter that began development as a premise for the entirety of Season 4, but was rejected by producer Rick Berman and downgraded to two-parter instead. While I had pacing issues with the episodes due to sensing the abbreviated nature of a lot of the subplots, I overall really liked the story and seeing the crew of Voyager having to endure so much. Not because I wanted to see them suffer, but because I wanted to see stories that conveyed their journey home would have an impact on them. So when “Year of Hell” ends with a timeline reset that completely eradicates all of the events of the two-parter, I felt cheated. Because it is a cheat.

When Voyager did a similar time travel reset for their 100th episode, “Timeless”, in which a future Chakotay and Harry pull some shenanigans to prevent Voyager from crashing into an ice planet, that story successfully had its cake and ate it by having our present-day crew be aware of the future Harry and Chakotay’s actions. The episode ends with a shocked present-day Harry watching a video message from his now-dead future self.

When I finally got around to the series finale, “Endgame”, all I knew to expect was another time travel story. I have no issues with time travel in Star Trek. It’s possibly overused, but I never get tired of it because more often than not, Trek knows how to find the fun in whichever story they use that device in. I enjoyed the first half of “Endgame” and its depiction of our crew’s future lives back on Earth. I liked seeing Admiral Janeway go rogue in order to time travel back to the Voyager crew that we’ve been following throughout most of the show. And as purposely-but-still-strangely jarring as it was to see Admiral Janeway try to prioritize Captain Janeway and the crew over defeating the Borg, I really liked their scenes together as well as Admiral Janeway’s confrontation, defeat, and death with the Borg Queen. (who is suddenly played by Alice Krige again in the finale after being played by Susanna Thompson in previous Voyager episodes. I was happy to see her but a bit confused after the show seemed to indicate that Thompson was meant to be Borg Queen 2.0, only to have our original Queen from First Contact return)

Then the last few minutes happen. The Borg are quickly dispatched, Voyager makes it back to the Alpha Quadrant, and the show ends with them blowing up a Borg Sphere and saying “hello” to the Starfleet ships waiting for them. There is barely any time devoted to the impact of arriving home on the crew because it happens so suddenly. And as much as Mulgrew does to sell “Set a course for home” as the final line... it falls flat.

I suspect that the reasoning for the abrupt ending is that the writers thought depicting the future older versions of the crew on Earth would serve as closure for our cast of characters. But it doesn’t work because the whole premise of the finale centers on Admiral Janeway undoing that future so she can save the lives of Seven of Nine and Chakotay, who are dead in this depicted future.

During one of Admiral and Captain Janeways’ scenes together, they are debating whether to use the Borg space tunnels to get home faster, or if they should destroy the tunnels to keep the Borg from being able to get around space. Then Captain Janeway proposes that there’s a way for them to “have our cake and eat it, too.”

Despite the convenience of this final plot, one that is explicitly identified as such by that line, the finale could still have stuck the landing if we saw or felt the impact of arriving home on the Voyager crew that we have been following for seven seasons. As messy as the show sometimes got, and as underserved as some characters became after the show introduced Seven of Nine (which confuses me because the writers did such a good initial job of utilizing that character to create new dynamics with the cast), this cast had earned and deserved a depiction of their arrival home. And we never got that.

Tom Paris is my least favorite character on the show. It has nothing to do with Robert Duncan McNeill’s performance, it’s just that the character never felt particularly developed beyond his initial characterization for me. His best material, in my opinion, was in “Lineage” when Tom comforts and assures B’Elanna that he will never leave her and that he wants their children to inherit their mother’s Klingon heritage. But one thread throughout the course of the show that seemed so straightforward of a payoff to save for the finale was Tom’s reunion with his father.

Tom talks frequently over the course of the show about his strained relationship with his Admiral dad. Then once Voyager is able to establish contact with the Alpha Quadrant (another development I had mixed feelings on because it diminishes the premise of the show by minimizing the ship’s isolation), we get introduced to Admiral Paris and he becomes a recurring character. We even get a moment where he expresses his love for Tom and how much he misses him. And while we do see Tom’s reaction to this, this huge character moment isn’t a direct interaction between these two characters. So naturally you would assume that their reunion, and likely reconciliation as father and son, would be shown once Voyager returns to Earth in the finale.

But that doesn’t happen.

Even though Admiral Paris is in the finale, that reunion setup is just not payed off in any way.

We also don’t get to see Tuvok reunited with his family.

Or Seven of Nine’s first impressions of Earth or her meeting any of her relatives.

Or any indication of what our former Maquis crewmembers’ reception by Starfleet would be.

Strangely, the only satisfying character sendoff of the show is Neelix, who in an earlier episode leaves to be with a colony of his own people and serve as Starfleet’s Delta Quadrant ambassador. His goodbye to the crew is a beautifully simple scene of him walking to his ship and passing by the entire crew, who are assembled along the hallway to see him off. And we even get a payoff to his friendship with Tuvok when Tuvok briefly taps his toes as a farewell gesture to Neelix.

Neelix started as the show’s most grating character, irritatingly cheerful and toxically possessive of Kes. By the time the show ended, he had become a well-rounded and essential presence. His traumas of losing his faith and family, as well as his insecurities around his role in the crew, were well developed over the course of the show.

In a way, the finale was a perfect example of the show. The premise was solid, and the cast was totally game and performed it to the best of their ability. But when it came down to conveying any impact that this episode, or the series in its entirety, would have on its characters... the finale just sidesteps that and ends abruptly.

Janeway, Seven of Nine, Chakotay, B’Elanna, Tuvok, Harry, Tom, Kes, and The Doctor all deserved better.

[theoriginalcarnivorousmuffin]

Hey, hope you’re doing well and staying sane! It’s been a year and one week since my city went into lockdown mode and I don’t know whether to laugh or cry. Question regarding your wonderfully zany HP fics - I’m a personal fan of “When Harry...” and “October” - have you ever considered an AU where Tom was the one born a girl, or would the crushing patriarchy of the 1940s Muggle Britain and the Wizarding World (witches must have babies!) in general doom that sort of premise?

You ask a very interesting question.

I’ve dithered with this idea off and on but I’ve always concluded it’d be such an overwhelming task that it invariably gets set to the side.

Because I think it’s highly likely that a female Tom Riddle would not have become Voldemort. Or, at least, not as we know him.

So here’s some general thoughts.

Female Tom Riddle’s Name Would Not Be Derivative of Tom

I imagine that Merope, dying on the orphanage floor, would still blindly name her son Tom Marvolo Riddle, after his father and her father, nevermind that the child is a girl.

Now, Mrs. Cole is a harsh woman with a difficult job, but I imagine she’s not needlessly cruel to infants. She’s not going to name this poor girl “Tom Marvolo” even if it is her mother’s dying wish. 

I imagine, as a result, Tom ends up with a very normal, English, girl’s name like Susan, Elizabeth, Jane, Victoria, etc. (We’ll go with Susan so I can just keep a consistent name for the rest of this post). 

This of course means right away that, even if Lord Voldemort does happen he’s not called Lord Voldemort, because Tom’s name isn’t Tom and we don’t get the same anagram.

As I’m terrible at anagrams, personally, one of you can look at Susan Elizabeth Riddle and tell me what you come up with.

Susan’s Antichrist Orphan Years

I doubt Susan’s antichrist years would have been quite the same as Tom’s. She probably won’t be getting in the same kind of physical scraps every other day of the week. That said, I’m sure she’s a hellion on wheels and just as if not more psychologically vicious than Tom ever was. Girls can be mean and I imagine Susan lets this fly.

She may also end up being more careful, though, than Tom was. Although she’s  a little girl and witches are traditionally women, that may make it less easy to spot, she’s a very pretty thing and probably very charming.

I think, for example, Dumbledore’s misogyny will work against him. Tom Riddle he recognized as an immediate threat, I’m sure Susan will just remind him of Arianna (who suffered similar outbursts, had a similar impoverished upbringing, and Dumbledore just never takes women seriously). 

He’d still be disapproving when she gets sorted into Slytherin but we’d likely see him react to that in the manner he interacts with Leta Lestrange in Crimes of Grindelwald: where he just lectures to her about what a shame it is she has traveled down this path of Slytherinhood and she can still be saved.

As a result, and this is where things go haywire in my head, Susan will likely not have the same antagonistic relationship with Dumbledore. Oh, I think she likely loathes him entirely for looking down on her, but I don’t think he’d light her wardrobe on fire for example. I also don’t know if she’d make the parseltongue reveal.

Hogwarts

Given what we do see of sexism among the purebloods (it seems like a very patriarchical society) I imagine that Susan is treated a lot more like, say, Lily Evans. She’s brilliant, but never acknowledged as the most brilliant student in Hogwarts, always as the most brilliant witch and then compared to her male peers who are in fact far dumber than she is.

Slughorn probably still loves her, but no matter what she does, Malfoy will always be treated as better than she is.

This, combined with her effectively being muggleborn, I’m sure makes for a very angry Susan. However, I don’t know if she’d let loose the basilisk.

To me, that always screamed a nervous breakdown and existential crisis on Tom Riddle’s part. He finally finds the truth, that he is in fact the heir of this great family legacy, and it doesn’t matter at all.

Susan faces not only the issues over her blood but also that she is a woman. So, I think in that, she might not open the chamber of secrets. Instead she’d just be even angrier that she’s the heir of Slytherin but knows damn well the man himself would never acknowledge her because she’s a woman.

Post Hogwarts

I imagine that Susan would not be able to find employment where even Tom was able to. She might, that said, be able to get the Defense (or perhaps Muggle Studies, I’m sorry I can’t help it) position as Dumbledore wouldn’t be actively working against her. In this position I imagine she’d sit and stew for a long time, trying to decide what it is she wants to do here and knowing this isn’t quite it.

If she wants to climb into power, I imagine she’d have to do so through marriage, and the likely candidate for that is Alphard Black, who never otherwise married. I always pictured Alphard was very likely gay, and I imagine Susan would figure that out, and act as his beard and help (somewhat) appease his family. They probably aren’t thrilled he married a muggleborn.

She then pushes Alphard to run for minister, essentially makes herself Eva Peron, and fabulouses her way into power and before we all know it Susan is essentially minister and how do you like them apples, Malfoy?!

If she dreams up a Lord Voldemort persona... I am not sure she would, given everything. But if she did, I think she’d realize that Lord Voldemort is a man, not a woman, and would cross dress. The pureblood aristocracy, despite respecting figures like Morgan le Fey, would never follow a woman’s revolution. This would make things very awkward when Bellatrix Black starts hitting on her.

I imagine Dumbledore would never quite figure out who Voldemort is either, because it could never occur to him that it was sad little Susan Riddle. And Harry of course would be floored that it’s a woman.

But, again, I don’t think the Voldemort future as we know it from canon would be all that likely to happen. 

Ships

That said, I’m not sure why since I consider Tom Riddle bisexual, but I imagine Susan is a raging lesbian. No real reason, except perhaps that I don’t think she could abide being romantically entangled with someone who had a natural superior position to society than she did. Which means of course if I ever wrote this it’d turn into femslash Lily Evans/Susan Riddle somehow.  

Because that’s what I do.

Conclusion

But yes, the long and short is I have thoughts, but once I get thinking about it I go “whoa, we’re getting far from our source material here” and decide to focus back on what I’m writing right now.

It’s an interesting thought experiment but one that would yield not only an entirely different character but an entirely different world. 

[guzhuangheaven]

oh i'm glad to know that romance of tiger and rose didn't work for you either. it bothered me how it just turned male supremacy to female supremacy and glosses over any chance to think about it in depth.

(in reference to this post)

Ok about Tiger and Rose, the thing that makes it really not work for me is that it didn’t matter that Huayuan was set up as a matriarchal society. The male lead is from a patriarchal society who does not intend to conform to the place he has married into, and the female lead is actually a woman from our real life modern patriarchal world. No matter how she might have created this supposedly matriarchal society herself, she is modelling it on the dynamics of our modern patriarchy. So in essence, we have two characters whose default is in fact patriarchy. They might live in a world where women have the privilege but their relationship does not in any way reflect this. Han Shuo still acts as if he expects to be obeyed and he certainly does not defer to Qianqian ever. Qianqian has not actually internalised the power and privilege she is supposed to have in Huayuan society to be able to act according to that privilege in any way that challenges the underlying patriarchal het dynamic in her relationship with Han Shuo. So though everyone else around them talk about how men are inferior, the actual relationship we are supposed to care about is still essentially between two people whose entire lives’ experiences have been constructed by the patriarchy and they continue to act according to those constructs. The set up of the matriarchal Huayuan society is very much just background and hardly has any effect on their relationship aside from comic relief when they both encounter culture clash with everyone else. 

To a milder extent this is also the case with Ning Yi and Tan'er's relationship in My Heroic Husband. Ning Yi has basically married into Tan'er family and Tan'er, being the breadwinner and provider, is supposed to hold power over Ning Yi. But no where yet do we actually see that power manifest in anyway. They operate like a completely normal couple in a patriarchal society where the power skews towards the man. Tan'er goes along with all of Ning Yi's business decisions even though original Ning Yi is supposed to be dumb and useless and his ideas seem on the surface complete nonense. And the reason the drama assumes the audience won’t (or shouldn’t) question this is because we’re also meant to see their relationship as a normal het relationship where the male protag’s actions are of course right and should be accepted by both the female character and the audience.

In both dramas, the reversal of gender roles in the setting is just a set up mostly for comedy purposes, and not to actually change the way the main couple interact with each other. 

You see the way that the premise set up doesn’t actually matter in the main relationship in the way both shows approach the sexual part of the relationships. Both Qianqian and Tan’er are still depicted as women who are intimidated by sex or reluctant to openly discuss it, which is a concept that has long roots in patriarchy and is one of the basis for unequal power dynamic between men adn women in sexual relationships. Yes, the begining of Tiger and Rose sort of hints that the Qianqian of the script world was originally the female version of philandering rakes that men usually are. But by the time we get to that scene where Han Shuo nearly rapes Qianqian (aka the episode where I noped out of this drama), she has turned into Qianqian the probably virgin writer who is completely under Han Shuo’s mercy both physically and mentally/emotionally. The only reason she isn’t raped is not anything she did or that she poses any threat or holds any power over him to deter him, but the fact that Han Shuo stepped over the extremely low bar of deciding in the last minute to not be a rapist. 

It’s less sinister with Tan’er, but despite the fact that Ning Yi and Tan’er are married, despite the fact that Tan’er probably does need to bear an heir who would eventually take over the family business, she still has to jump through dozens of convoluted hoops to get Ning Yi to share a room with her. Admittedly, it’s a hilarious sequence of Tan’er going from completely trashing Ning Yi’s room to literally burning it down to force him to share a room with her, it demonstrates the way that Tan’er, as a woman, is still supposed to act “demure” and chaste and not ask for sex. Ning Yi, the modern man, literally says she could have just told me this is what she wanted, but no, instead she literally burned part of her house down. 

When the dramas set up these situations where the women who are supposed to be empowered by the drama’s set up still act so unempowered, it sort of negates any superficial premise that operates in the background. If anything, it brings into stark contrast the way that the patriarchal dynamic in these relationships are, in fact, not being challenged at all. -H

[imaginesandinserts]

Irreverent Pt. 35 - The Fifth

Title: Irreverent Pt. 35 - The Fifth Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: 5130

Irreverent Series Masterlist

It's the middle of the night after a long case away involving a family annihilator, after which you and Aaron had picked up Jack and more or less collapsed into bed from sheer exhaustion. You're woken up suddenly and for a second you're not sure why until you feel Aaron shift erratically behind you. You turn slowly towards him to see his face contorted and a thin layer of sweat covering his brow. He's having a nightmare, and knowing everything he's been through, you can only imagine what it's about.

Reaching out slowly, so as to not startle him, you softly shake him. "Aaron, honey, wake up." It takes a bit more shaking to really get him out of his sleep. He wakes with a start and a shout and you worry he'll wake Jack. "Shh, it's okay, you're okay." Your hands are running over his chest and face, trying to help him calm down.

Aaron had been having the Foyet dream again. The dream where he's driving and driving and he hears Haley and he hears Jack, except now it's not just them, it's also you. He's driving and the car isn't moving fast enough and he hears that first gunshot that hits Haley. He hears yours voice - your voice asking him why he didn't make the deal, your voice telling him to hurry - and then a second gunshot.

He's shaking as he realizes that he's in bed, that you're there, and reasonably he knows that Jack is in his room down the hall. You're saying something and he's nodding but not sure what he's saying yes to. He feels cold and clammy and your hands are softly brushing back his hair as his breathing starts to become normal again. From the nightstand, you'd grabbed the glass of water and are handing it to him, your hand cupping his as he brings it up to his mouth.

"You're okay, you're alright. Everything's okay. Jack's alright. It's okay."

He nods, hearing you this time, and allows you to help him lay down, his head against your chest and your hands running over his arms and through his hair. It's helping. Reminding him. Grounding him. This is the first time he's had someone around for this nightmare. He's used to waking up alone and then getting up to check on Jack - just in case. But he has your voice in his ear, assuring him that Jack is alright.

He closes his eyes and focuses on the steady beat of your heart.

You're there.

You're there.

You're there.

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

It had been a short case and it had ended relatively well all things considered - the Unsub was apprehended before he got his hands on his next victim. Sometimes you just take the wins you're handed, and so the team had flown out of Phoenix in good spirits, looking forward to a long weekend off. Rossi had already planned a barbeque at his place on Sunday and you and Aaron had plans to take Jack to the new Dinosaur exhibit at the Smithsonian on Saturday. Monday - if you all made it that far without a case - would be dedicated to introducing Jack to the Toy Story series. You'd ordered him a little Woody outfit and toy as a surprise and just received the notification that it was delivered, so it was perfect timing really.

"I'm just saying, he wasn't too far off the mark," you hear Spencer's voice as you're sitting sideways on the couch, your legs in his lap.

The latest Unsub had formed unhealthy attachments with women who he helped provide tech support to, so the conversation had turned to that again, as far as you could tell. JJ thought it was creepy how the guy had essentially used his access to the customer log to stalk his victims that fit his fantasy and the two of them had been talking it over as she was typing out her report. Her and Will had plans for tomorrow and you knew she wanted to get home early tonight so was doing her best to wrap up her work before you even landed.

You debated starting yours too as you saw that Hotch was working on some paper work as well. Emily and Derek however were sitting and chatting about something or the other and Rossi was reading a newspaper. Who did that anymore? You really needed to introduce him to a kindle or something. Maybe for Christmas. Then again he's a published author. He might take offense at having the feel of a real book be replaced with technology.

You decided to join JJ and Spencer's conversation - maybe you'd learn something to add to your report that you would type soon and not wait to do until after you landed. Of course not.

"What're you guys talking about, Spence?"

"I'm just trying to explain to JJ, that while the Unsub might have gone about it in an unorthodox manner," you hear JJ scoff at Spencer's description of the murders, "he wasn't wrong about the initial premise."

"Which is?" you prompted, trying to take mental notes at the least.

"That many people find love through work - be it a customer, client, or coworker. We spend at minimum, 40% of our waking hours at work. Add in the fact that many people tie their work to a facet of their identity, it makes sense that relationships formed in workplace settings have a high degree of success."

You nod along, taking a drink from the bottle of sparkling water you'd grabbed earlier.

"I mean, just look at you and Hotch - you two seem to be making it work."

You felt yourself choke on the water and cough, enough to get everyone's attention. No. You'd misheard. He hadn't said that. Why was it so quiet on the plane all of a sudden? They're all looking at you. You and Hotch. Emily and Derek had entirely stopped talking. Rossi had put down his paper. No one was saying anything really, as if they were waiting.

You meet Aaron's eyes and see the same question reflected there. Do they know?

You're about to contradict it, really, you are. You're going to ask Spencer what he's talking about. Because you and Hotch are not together - no sir. He must be mistaken. He must have you confused with someone else.

That option is taken from you, however, when Aaron straightens, putting down his pen, and asks Spencer, "How long have you known?"

It's JJ who answers however. "We didn't actually. Not for sure at least. Thanks for the confirmation." There's a smirk on her face and a knowing glint in her eye. You look around and see that they're all wearing pretty much identical smirks.

You can feel the incredulity building in your head. You'd been had. Actually no. You had not. Aaron had. You were all set to deny deny deny. He had to open his big mouth and ask a self-incriminating question. I should pull up the Virginia Bar records and check if he's still licensed because he's really losing his touch.

Aaron had the good grace to look a little ashamed at having been tricked so easily.

You're supposed to say something, but this isn't how you'd planned on telling everyone that you were sleeping with the boss. Well not just sleeping with, but still! There had been a plan. A carefully orchestrated plan involving dinner and copious amounts of expensive alcohol so that no one could be upset at having been lied to. It was very hard for people to be upset with you after you've fed them. Especially if you made your tiramisu. The tiramisu had been part of the plan!

You can feel your face heating up the longer the silence goes on. Realistically it's only a few seconds at most while both you and Aaron process that everyone knows now. But it feels like a very long stretch of quiet in which they're all just looking at you as if they expect you to start making out with one another any minute now.

"How'd you figure it out?" you finally ask, hoping that question would urge Spencer to talk and distract everyone from staring at you. You sneak a peak at Emily. She doesn't look mad or upset really. That's good.

"Well, I've suspected since Hotch got shot," Spencer explains. "I was pretty sure you made a large donation to the surgery department to get Dr. Kepner instead of Dr. Wilson, which didn't really make sense as something someone would do for a friend or a coworker. Though sometimes I do tend to misread those types of situations so I asked JJ and she agreed with my interpretation that it was unlikely you'd make a large donation for just anyone like that."

You look at Aaron and see him color just slightly. The two of you had had a bit of an argument about you throwing your money around to get your way, but you'd reminded him that his bullet wound had healed remarkably and there was barely a scar at all. Plus, it was your money and you could use it however you wanted and then you'd said something about how scared you'd been and how you didn't know how else to help and could he please just not be mad at you for doing something that was good for him. You weren't sure if it was what you said or the fact that you were sat in his lap pouting and upset when you'd done it, that had made him finally relent.

You still refused to tell him exactly how much you'd donated.

"We won't hold that against you, though," JJ says kindly. You can see the humor dancing in her eyes.

If the jet were to suddenly rip a hole and pull you clean through, you wouldn't be all too upset about it.

"You also said no to a date with Charlie," Derek adds. Detective Charles Bass was a friend of Derek's from the Chicago PD whom you'd met on the case prior. "You and I both know he's your type, princess." Derek has a teasing smile on his face that helps you calm down a little bit.

You rolled your eyes but didn't refute his claim. He wasn't wrong. Detective Bass was incredibly good looking and charming and exactly your type if you weren't already completely head over heels for a certain unit chief. Aaron had laughed when you told him and then proceeded to remind you exactly why you said no to dates with other men. You two were lucky no one had heard you with how thin hotel room walls could be. Though now you have to wonder if they had indeed heard you but were adding it to the pile of evidence they'd been collecting.

"And then," Emily decides to finally contribute, prompting you to really look at her, "when I was taking the lunch order, and Hotch was busy, you knew his sandwich order exactly. When I handed it to him he asked how I knew that he didn't like mayonnaise on his roast beef sandwiches. I didn't know that. But you sure did." Emily has a smug look on her face and there's a promise in her eyes that the two of you will be discussing this later. In detail.

You're just sitting there now, shaking your head. It was embarrassing to have your profiler coworkers point out things that you really should've known to be more careful about. You're sure Aaron feels similarly awkward because he's just silently looking at each person as they speak, a flush coloring his face and neck.

Rossi looks like the cat that ate the canary, however he is conspicuously quiet. You have to wonder how long he's known that the others suspect you and Hotch were together. However none of them seem upset really or even surprised so that has to be of some solace to Aaron. He'd had the ridiculous notion that Derek and Emily would think he was taking advantage of you or some nonsense. As if anyone could possibly think that of him.

"And finally, there was the case in LA a few weeks back when we got called in late and both you and Hotch arrived around the same time. Which in and of itself wouldn't be too odd, but you were wearing an emerald green cocktail dress with off the shoulder sleeves and Hotch was also dressed up and wearing a tie that matched your dress exactly. Hotch doesn't have green ties." Spencer relays all of this as though it's all oh so obvious and you really want to call him a weirdo for knowing what ties Hotch does and doesn't have - but he's right. You'd bought him that green tie because it was your favorite color and he'd matched your dress when the two of you had gone out to dinner on a rare night off. "Plus, the two of you often tend to match. Is that on purpose or subconscious - I've been wanting to ask."

You look down at your red blouse and then across to Aaron's red tie. Well, if any of them hadn't believed it before, they sure did now.

You might as well have been caught red-handed.

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

Sunday was a nice and sunny day. You and Aaron had arrived at Rossi's together with Jack. In the same car. That was a definite perk of everyone knowing - the two of you had been growing tired of always bringing two cars to and from places and trying your best to arrive a few minutes after the other.

Jack had immediately found Henry and the two of them were playing in the shallow end of the pool with Aaron and Will keeping watch nearby, while Rossi and Reid manned the grill. Well Rossi was doing the grilling. Spencer was spouting facts about the origins of barbeque which Aaron had long since tuned out from.

He looks over as you lay in a deck chair near the girls and Derek. Prentiss, JJ, and Garcia had all opted for bikinis and were working on their tans. You'd taken off your coverup and were wearing a wine colored one piece swimsuit underneath, your hair tied up in a high ponytail reminiscent of some pop star whose name he could never remember. Last week, he had come home to you and Jack singing along to her teeny bopper tunes and when he'd complained you'd told him that music didn't stop with the Beatles and it was good to have balance. He'd had the song stuck in his head for days.

All in all the team had taken the two of you dating relatively well. They'd all said they were happy for the two of you and no one seemed too upset at having been kept in the dark about it. He supposed he was grateful given the group's history with secrets. He was also pretty sure he'd seen some money exchange hands afterwards, however had decided to not bring that up with you - he had a feeling you wouldn't be thrilled to know your coworkers were betting on your personal life.

On the other side of the pool, you were getting settled in and enjoying the warmth of the sun on your skin. Emily's lying next to you on her stomach after you'd finished lathering her back with sunscreen.

"Derek, where's Savannah?" JJ asks, taking a sip from the giant margarita glass that Rossi had handed each of you as you entered. She's sitting up in her chair, sunglasses perched on her head  and an eye on Henry the entire time.

"She's on call, but she says hello," Derek answers. You know it's been rough on them trying to see each other despite both of their busy schedules. That's one thing you're grateful for with you and Aaron working on the same team - you get to see him at home and at work. Though, you suppose you might as well enjoy it while it lasts. McKinney has been hinting at getting you working - part time at least - with some local task force groups to increase your exposure. You'd end up splitting your time between that and the BAU.

"Alright, let's talk about what we all really want to know more about!" Penelope turns to you, her face a mixture of curiosity and childlike glee. Heat and alcohol were not a good mix. "Y/N, tell us more about you and Hotch!"

You'd been dreading this. You'd told Aaron as much when the two of you were getting ready that morning and at this moment you resented him for being on the other side of the pool with Will. Will who wasn't nosey and minded his own business.

Sighing, you prop yourself up to take a sip of your own drink. "What do you guys want to know?"

"How long have you been together? Officially."

"A few months - since the career day conversation."

"That long?!" JJ's eyes widen in surprise.

"Didn't you hide Will from us for almost half a year?" Derek raises an eyebrow at her hypocrisy however she doesn't seem perturbed.

"Yes, but that was different. Hotch and Y/N are both around us practically 24/7. I'm surprised they managed to hide it that long."

You laugh. "Well we obviously weren't that good at the hiding if you guys figured it out."

"Don't sell yourself short, princess. If pretty boy hadn't told us all about the hospital thing we wouldn't have given it too much thought."

"He's right," Emily agrees. "You and Hotch being together isn't like a surprise, but it is also."

"What do you mean?" You're intrigued by that because that's something that's bothered you since you declared your relationship to Strauss. She hadn't been surprised and she'd said no one else would be either. You hadn't really taken her word for it.

"I mean, you guys were basically a couple already - all the stuff you did with Jack, always partnering up together, not to mention the fact that Hotch has been in love with you forever."

You roll your eyes. Everyone's said that - Emily, Rossi, even Aaron when he told you that he'd loved you for years. You couldn't help but be a bit skeptical. Years? Really? Deep down you knew the reason why you're bothered  - it's because you can imagine how painful that must've been for him if it was true - you'd flirted with other men, you'd dated, and then there had been the time when you two were barely speaking. While that had been awful for you as well, you couldn't imagine how much worse it was for him knowing he was in love with you and you two were barely talking.

"But also it was a small surprise," JJ continues, drawing your attention back. "Like, none of us thought Hotch was your type - at least based on the other guys we've seen you date. We honestly thought about setting him up a few times just to help him get over it and move on."

That was news to you. No one had ever mentioned wanting to set Hotch up with anyone to you. "Why didn't you?"

You see JJ and Emily exchange a look. Emily's the one who answers, though she seems hesitant. "Well, we did. Once. We set him up on a blind date with my friend Sarah. Apparently all he did was talk about the team and Jack…and you."

You raised your eyebrows at that and looked over at Aaron, throwing Jack into the water. "He talked about me?"

"According to Sarah, it seemed like he was hung up on some girl named Y/N," JJ teases, "and she was pretty upset that we wasted her time."

You can't help the pleased smile or the slight color that comes to your face. You wanted to ask why none of them had told you, but you knew the answer. They wouldn't betray Aaron like that.

"So," and you can tell this is Emily's way of changing the subject back to what she really wants to talk about. "How's the sex?" Her mouth is twisted into a smirk, a mischievous glint in her eye.

Derek takes that as his cue to excuse himself from the girl talk and walks over to join Rossi at the grill. As if you'd talk about that with him there anyways.

You shake your head. "Emily he's your boss."

"He's your boss too, and you're sleeping with him. I just wanna know what it's like."

JJ and Penelope are also looking at you expectantly. You bite your lip, and with a sigh you admit, "It's the best sex of my life."

Their loud ooohs and teasing squeals catch the guys' attention and you meet Aaron's gaze as he's walking over.

Aaron can sense the girls' eyes on him as he walks over to you to grab the keys to the car. Jack wanted to grab the waterguns to play with.

"Hey, the keys still in your bag?"

You nod as he grabs the bag from the other side of your chair and looks for the car keys. You'd all become far too quiet the second he'd approached. Emily was stifling a dirty smirk very very poorly and both JJ and Penelope were still giggling behind their drinks.

"Were you talking about me?" he asks, a small smirk on his face as he fishes out the keys.

"Yes," Emily replies, flipping her sunglasses up to meet his eyes. "Now go away so we can continue."

Aaron chuckles and shakes his head. He's about to walk away, but as he passes the back of your chair, you suddenly feel a light tug at your ponytail, and before you can react he's pulled your head back and captured your lips in a sweet kiss that takes your breath away.  Letting go, he throws a wink at your shocked face before strolling away.

You take a second before you look back at the girls and you're met with three identical faces of outright surprise.

Emily recovers first, fanning herself with her hand. "Has Hotch always been this hot?"

The four of you can't help but laugh again.

Yes he has.

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

You'd changed out of your swimsuit and into a dress after playing waterguns with Jack and Henry in the afternoon. The food and drinks had flowed throughout the day, and everyone had moved into Rossi's large living room as the sun set. It was pretty much assumed that no one was  in a state to drive back home that night.

Jack had eventually tuckered himself out and fallen asleep in your lap before Aaron picked him up and took him to the guest bedroom to lay him down next to Henry. You were feeling a little sleepy yourself, tucked into Emily's side on the large couch, lazily holding a glass of wine, and trying to follow the conversation.

"So, he just said you weren't good? Like, straight up?" JJ looks appalled that anyone could be so rude to someone's face.

"Yeah, can you believe it? I had an off day and still went down on him and he comes at me with that," Emily replies, the rage clear on her face. Her latest paramour had been less than appreciative of her skills and she had been filling you all in on the aftermath.

"You did dump him, didn't you sugar?" Penelope was equally worked up, her nostrils flaring.

"Of course," Emily assures her, "And then," she continues a bit hesitantly, "I did something…else."

That definitely caught your attention. "Oh God…what'd you do Em?"

"Well, I may have gone through my contacts and obtained more personal feedback." She's not looking at you and instead speaking into her wine glass. You're pretty sure it's her third and that was after margaritas all afternoon.

You blink as you process what she had said. However, Penelope beats you to it. "You called up your exes and ASKED?!"

"How else am I supposed to know? I was feeling insecure and I needed to know if he was right. There isn't exactly a Yelp to rate blowjob skills."

You groaned. Of course she had.

"Emily, you can't just call people and ask them that." You couldn't believe she'd done that. You could not even fathom.

"Why not? I feel better and I know he was wrong."

You just shook your head, smiling in spite of yourself. Suppose you do have to admire the confidence.

"Maybe I should do that," Penelope says, twirling her phone in her hands.

"Alright, you're cut off." You grabbed her glass from her hand and moved it to the table. "We can't all just go around asking men to rate us." This was an entirely alcohol fueled conversation at this point.

JJ agreed with you, making a grab for Emily's glass as well, which she dodged. Damn those undercover agent reflexes.

"I don't know Y/N," Emily teased, "you always like being the best. Wouldn't it be nice to know for sure."

You narrowed your eyes at her.

Before you could say anything else, however, she'd already called out. "Hotch!"

You watch Aaron turn from his conversation with Reid, beer bottle in hand. He looked a little flushed from the day drinking, his hair flopping adorably to his forehead. "Yes?"

"Does Y/N give good head?"

You feel your jaw drop and your eyes widen in horror. You're already shaking your head at Aaron. You're waiting for him to say that it wasn't appropriate. Waiting for him to ignore it and roll his eyes and turn away. Instead he looks at you and the look in his eyes tells you exactly what he's thinking about. You can feel yourself heat up under his gaze.

Aaron, in his defense, was a few beers in and his guard had been down. He'd spent the entire day watching you in your bathing suit and when Prentiss - blatantly - asked him if you gave good head, his mind went immediately to a few weeks back.

A few weeks back when you'd woken up before him - which you rarely did. He had woken to the feeling of little kitten licks on the tip of his cock and the sight of you knelt between his legs. He'd shifted, alerting you to the fact that he was awake, and you'd looked up at him with the cutest smile.

"Good morning." He'd raised an eyebrow, at your position.

You'd hummed in response, taking him into your mouth, tongue swirling around the head, and released him with a kiss on the tip.

His eyes darkened as he shifted to sit against the headboard and watched you move with him.

"What do I owe this wakeup call to?"

You'd appraised him, still knelt between his legs, as if debating exactly what to say. He knew you weren't incredibly experienced in this particular area and he'd been more than happy to forego it altogether in your time together thus far. You bit your lip, and spoke slowly. "You know that I haven't done this much."

He nods, watching you fidget with your hands.

"Will you teach me?"

He felt a jolt of need that went straight to his cock. He was about to imprint this image of you to his mind forever - kneeling between his legs, doe eyes looking up at him from under your lashes, mouth pouty and lips glossy from his precome coating them. This would be the image that he would forever bring to the forefront anytime he was unfortunate enough to spend a night without you.

He lets out a shaky breath before nodding yes.

You were an incredibly fast learner.

You watch as Aaron tips the head of the beer bottle to his mouth and takes another drag, before lowering it. He looks right at you when he finally speaks, deliberately slow. "I have no complaints."

You let out a breath of disbelief and the girls started laughing around you as he turned back around to his conversation amongst jostling from Derek and Rossi. Cocky little…

When you walked to the kitchen to grab some water, you could feel his eyes on you and you're not surprised when he joins you a moment later, arms circling your waist from behind.

"Hi." His breath is warm against your neck and you can tell he's just this side of drunk because he's very loosely holding himself to you.

You simply hummed as he pressed his lips to your neck. He had been very touchy today and to be honest, you hadn't expected this level of PDA from Aaron. You'd expected him to be much more reserved, though that's likely exactly what would happen once everyone was back at work.

"Was that the right answer?" He mumbles into your skin, leaving open mouth kisses along your neck.

You smile, rolling your eyes. "The right answer was I plead the fifth. I thought you were a lawyer."

His chest rumbles with laughter behind you and you can hear the teasing smile in his voice. "Well, your honor, I think I'm a few beers in and allowed to appreciate my girlfriend's skills. Any chance I could talk you into another demonstration?" Oh he was really pushing his luck.

You bite your lip to prevent the grin that's threatening to break out. "I thought you were drunk."

You try to turn to face him but he pushes you into the counter, grinding against you. "Not that drunk."

He moves his hand to cup your jaw, turning your face towards him, and capturing your lips in a wet, dirty kiss that leaves you moaning and grinding back into him.

You're grateful the kitchen is hidden from view of the living room and no one has walked in on you both yet.

"Aaron, we can't have sex in Rossi's house," you whisper urgently when he gives you a moment to breathe.

"You're kidding, right? He told me where the condoms are."

You scoff. As if the two of you even used condoms.

But he's looking at you earnestly and you chance another look in the direction of the living room. It sounded like everyone was talking and distracted. They probably wouldn't miss you.

He can see the wheels turning in your head, and he smiles triumphantly as he sees the acceptance in your eyes.

"You're a bad influence Agent Hotchner," you say as his lips meet yours again and the two of you start making your way down the hallway to the back of the house.

[realisaonum]

book meme

thank you, jen @det395​ !! i feel like this meme got away from me a bit, but no shame! i love talking about books and writing so onward ~under the cut~

1- how many books are too many books in a series? 

mhmmmmm i guess it depends on the objective of the series, right? is the plan to have x number of books in the series and if so, when we finally get to the end will it be satisfying considering all the books we’ve read leading up to it? OR is the objective of the premise / characters just to exist doing whatever? both can be done well. i would say a lot rides on how much i trust the author.

2- what do you think about cliffhangers?

so this is meant for cliffhangers in a series like between books? i don’t really care if there’s a cliffhanger as long as i have the next book sitting right next to me. otherwise uh, only if the wait between books is tolerable, because at that point you need to know that the author can clear this mess up, right? there’s this other thing, like you know how if the entire series was already written, then they might release the books a month apart or a quarter apart - that could be alright too. but years in between? not especially a fan. is anyone a fan?

3- hardback or paperback?

jen, you and me are complete opposites here. paperbacks stress me out. i will go out of my way to buy a used hardcover if given the choice. of course, there are some publications i don’t mind in paperback —thinking poetry and super indie books that don’t have a hardcover release OR books where the spines are thin enough they won’t break and i won’t be holding them long enough for them to wear. hardcovers are sturdy and i don’t have to worry i’ll accidentally bend the cover in some damaging way. I am invested in keeping my books nice to the point that i create covers for my books out of kraft paper or brown grocery bags while i am reading them. this is something i started when i was in college and didn’t want these books i was hoping to probably resell get thrashed coming in and out of my bag for all these classes. My home library is probs more half and half paperback/hardcover but if given a choice usually it’s hardcover.

4- least favourite book?

i think it’s good to at least attempt to meet a book on its level. there are lots of books i didn’t like, but i wasn’t meeting them on their level and i know that so we’re ignoring those. i do however have a shelf on my goodreads dedicated to books that i have beef with so i’ll just go off on two of them.....

tana french’s the likeness for being plagiaristic shit. it is essentially poorly concealed alternate universe OC insert fic of the secret history. you’ve got french’s dublin murder squad folks and then this group they are investigating who bear a STRIKING resemblance to the greek students in tsh 🤔. this would be one thing. it is pretty well acknowledged that nothing is original and there are enough changes to The Likeness that MAYBE i could let it slide if not for this other thing: french’s book, the likeness, has lines that are just basically reworded quotes from the secret history and french positions these lines so they are said by the counterpart (essentially same!) character that gave them original life in tsh. i cannot stress this enough: you can HEAR how similar the sentences are and their core intent is always the same. it’s thinly veiled theft! it astounds me that French hasn’t been sued frankly. it is one thing to want to capture some of the genius that tartt’s debut novel holds, but it is completely lazy and disgusting theft to go about it in the way French did with this book. and YES the secret history was published before french’s book. if i could stomach how fucking goddamn boring the likeness was to read it a second time and cite every one of these offenses i would, but that’s yet a third strike against it—it’s too boring to be worth it. 

T. Kingfisher’s second book of the Clocktuar War duology : The Wonder Engine. this is a book that i feel violated the contract between writer and reader. the first book feels almost like a YA book. the stakes while described as very high are treated, as actions unfold, as very low. nothing truly irreparable happens until the climax of the second book and the fallout of that action is so off-tone of everything that came before i felt deeply betrayed. no, like, completely betrayed as in it ruined the rest of my afternoon, i am still viscerally angry eight months later, and i will never trust this author again. sure, maybe none of those actions that led to the climax were out-of-character, but there was nothing NOTHING in the proceeding action that even came close to that level of consequence. it’s a pity because right up till that point i was having a really good time. the entire vibe of the rising action to the climax of book one all the way through the rising action of book two was just a quippy fun version of roadtrip/quest - it felt like a comfort read. the abrupt tone shift had all the subtlety of dropping a graphically, brutal murder into Blue’s Clues. you don’t do that - this is a basic tenet of a writer / reader relationship. i’m not touching this bitch’s shit again.

5- Love Triangle, yes or no?

not so much. i like jen before me will scream ‘just be poly.’ love triangles that lead into poly relationships? yes, awesome will be glad i read. but i am at a stage in my life where your standard will-they-won’t-they-love-triangle is just fucking pointlessly frustrating to me. an example: i read a Nic Stone’s book Odd One Out a couple years ago and something about the synopsis or the hype made me think that it would resolve the love triangle that way, so when that did not happen i was incredibly frustrated and immediately wanted to resell the book. it’s the potential of the thing. stone’s book could have been the perfect vehicle for opening up the concept of polyamory to a ya audience but instead just really squandered that potential with weak floundering — in my opinion!

6- the most recent book you just couldn’t finish

uhhhhh i’ve got two and i’m not sure i’ve entirely given up quite yet buuuuuuuut 

fucking dune. i got really pissed off with this book. So just…setting aside the whole vaguing at a pedophilically inclined queer coded villain - it’s done so poorly, that it's almost funny? like it doesn’t (as of half way through) actually have any consequence on…anything at all and is tacked on like an afterthought to the end of his scenes. honestly it all could just be cut out entirely with no recourse to the larger story. So my actual beef with this book is the pacing is ATROCIOUS. like yo, not only do you expect me to give a shit about these Atreides cunts, when we just met them and we spend the same amount of time with them IF NOT MORE with the antagonist? but you also expect me to believe Paul was able to just convince the leader of the Arrakis people —the leader of an entire planet!!— with a single fucking sentence??? yeah, not so much. it was not set up for me to believe that Paul could do that! maybe if Kynes hadn’t died immediately after—or at least not died at that moment? baring the fact I thought he was by far the most interesting character, IF he had been convinced by Paul in that scene, it would have been great to see some actual work done around that - with a transfer or a liaise of power between Kynes and Paul and the Fremen. By not having any substantive scene that does it - it begs the question of what the fuck was the point of the character in the first place? unplumbed potential!!! over all there seem to be some key scenes missing to get the reader to where the narrative expects us to be? but the choices made of the characters we spend time with and the moments we see with them, the benefit to the larger story…is not always there. hey herbert, these words you have written aren’t doing what you want them to?? i feel like i should finish it but i reaaaaallly don’t want to :) the only thing i can say is it looks like from the trailer, villeneueve is giving space to these moments so that the viewer can foster a genuine connection with the characters? radical concept.

our lady of perpetual hunger - i started this one optimistically bc i like chef memoirs, but i am at the point where she has just given birth to her son and honestly DON’T CARE. i still haven’t officially given up on it yet since i actually fucking bought it like a dope. i certainly would not have if i knew how much NOT about working the line this was gonna be

7- book you are currently reading

Aside from the failures mentioned above, I am working on the second book in B. Catling’s Vorrh trilogy, The Erstwhile. Also very close to finally finishing Iain Sinclair’s The Last London - there’s a review of his work from the LA Times that goes “One of Sinclair’s greatest skills has always been his ability to take diverse if not chaotic source material and refashion it in a way that sometimes seems downright alchemical” which captures some of the wonder I experience when reading his work. His style and how he creates atmosphere and setting is just unique and astounding.

8- last book you recommended to someone

The Secret History by Donna Tartt. Before that I told my brother to read Eat a Peach, as we both love Anthony Bourdain and David Chang talks about him a bit here, plus it’s just a fucking great book. any book that gives insight into Chang’s methodology and paradigm is worth a shot.

9- oldest book you read

I think it might have to be Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night (which apparently according to wiki premiered on the stage a whole four months before Hamlet so that’s what we’re going with) and if plays don’t count, I don’t care. I think they count and that’s what we’re going with.

10- the most recent book you read ?

Given the previous question, the most recently published book, right? It’s gotta be the one I just finished: The First Collection of Criticism by a Living Female Rock Critic - Revised and Expanded edt., which like just came out this summer. I watched Jessica Hopper’s promo zoom, curtesy of my local indie bookstore, and went ahead and bought it. This was a great decision! It was just what I needed to read these last couple of weeks. i love there’s lots of short pieces that made the read quick and the fact that it’s non-fiction so there was no pressure of a plot or the emotional weight of character investment when I had a lot of big stressors dragging me down irl -it was such a relief. Hopper’s criticism is fun to read and there’s some real art in her appreciation of music here.

11- favourite author?

These are the top in a kind of order but not really: Donna Tartt, Jeff VanderMeer, Megan Whalen Turner, Flannery O’Conner, Chuck Palahniuk, Anthony Bourdain

Other faves very much worth mentioning: Emily O’Neill, Richard Siken, Brandon Sanderson, Warren Ellis, Nathan Englander, Stephen King, Eddie Huang, Carl Hiaassen, Anne Carson, and Iain Sinclair.

12- buying books or borrowing books?

Depends on if my library has it, of course! I nearly always see if my library has a copy first if i have never read it or the author before. If i’ve read the book before or trust the author, I’ll buy it. Like I’ll straight out buy new stuff from Jeff VanderMeer even though with him it’s either this-hits-exactly-and-is-my-new-fave or i-really-disliked-this-but-admire-the-boundaries-you’re-pushing-my-dude - so it’s always a gamble but a worthy one.

12- a book you dislike that everyone else seems to love

a little life (just bc it's torture porn elevated to art doesn’t negate the fact that it’s torture porn. Yanagihara’s project here is repugnant and the fact that this book is lauded as moving lgbt fiction makes my skin crawl)

sharp objects (good writing, compelling story, BUT typographical scarification doesn't work like that - i am not going to get into it but i know from first hand experience how Flynn described it is not accurate)

nesbø’s the snowman (what kinda dumbass detective would think THAT when a woman finds her missing father’s corpse? absolute idiocy - so obviously reverse engineered with that end in mind)

the raven cycle (fuck ronan lynch to start and then fuck him to end as well - there’s some other stuff but mostly he’s a total CUNT and if i don’t say that once a day i have probably died)

14 - bookmarks or dogears?

Bookmarks and sticky notes. Then I can place it pointing directly to the paragraph I last stopped on.

15- The book you can always reread?

This is my question because I reread all the time. ALL THE TIME. Books I reread often: The Secret History, Medium Raw (especially chapter 17 The Fury), Crooked Kingdom, The Violent Bear It Away, and The Goldfinch. Every year like clockwork (since it came out apparently) I will reread Stephen King’s The Outsider.

Other books I feel the urge to reread: VanderMeer’s Acceptance, Englander’s Dinner at the Center of the Earth, Frazier’s Nightwoods, Fresh Off the Boat, the Mr. Mercedes trilogy, the Peter Grant Series (which is queued up for another go here soon I think), any of the stories from A Good Man is Hard to Find, Sanderson’s Wax and Wayne Mistborn books, simon vs the homosapiens’ agenda, and there are two of Alan Morinis’ books on Mussar that I am technically always revisiting—when i need a reminder, i’ll jump around and read specific sections to get centered again.

16- can you read while listening to music?

Yes, but only ambient or near ambient (only usually one track on repeat) or a soundtrack I am extremely familiar with. No new music. I do usually need some audio stimulation or my mind will wander terribly.

17- one POV or multi POV?

Multi pov can certainly be done well (looking at the soc duaology and VanderMeer’s Acceptance) but working a multi-pov means there are more plates spinning, it’s more of a challenge, and some authors pull it off better than others.

18- do you read book in one sitting or in multiple days?

I don’t really do this anymore. that might have something to do with me picking up thicker books? but also i have a full time job now and let’s be real the book has to be hella good if i don’t want to put it down. the last book i attempted to shotgun was the final installment of my favorite series and it still took me two days so....i can get through a lot of books but none of them are ever in one sitting anymore.

19- who to tag:

@sybilius​ @mouth-rainboy​ @iwonderifthatisart​ @phereinnike​ @magnificentmoose​ @wambsgangs​ @moriarteaparty​ and anyone else if you feel so inclined!

Bonus Question: What’s on your to-read shelf? 

As for me, I am excited about one i just picked up, Danforth’s Plain Bad Heroines, which i might start tomorrow and I will be taking Paul Madonna’s Come to Light on my trip to see my brother this coming weekend. 

[commander-rahrah]

RESIDENCY: SECOND CHANCES (AN OPEN HEART FIC): PART FOUR

Pairing: MC (Jordynne Holland) X Ethan Ramsey X Bryce Lahela; MC X Bryce; MC X Ethan. Please note that both pairings are present in this fan fiction — off & on, at the same times, and the relationships do ebb & flow. Please keep this in mind. Thank you.

Masterlist: Click Here

Chapter Rating: T

Word Count: 3940+

Description:  Everybody’s first day back at Edenbrook. Is this second year everything they will need it to be?

Disclaimer: Characters, storyline, and parts of the dialogue are taken from Pixelberry’s Choices. They fully own the characters, dialogue, backgrounds, etc. MC Jordynne’s background is my own creation, based loosely off of MC in-game’s personality and provided with more details.

Author’s Note: Ha. Soooo, its been a while. A long while. Many factors went into delaying updating this fic. First of all -- the pandemic. I am an essential worker. I am tired, and stressed. Yes, still. I am tired. I wake up, drive, work, drive, home, eat, sleep. That’s it. My freetime, creativity. mental health, etc. has been at an all time low. Second of all -- life. Soooo much has happened for my little family. My partner and I bought our first home and rescued our absolutely gorgeous puppy from a rescue shelter. It can be a bit hard to find time to write between putting your entire life into boxes, not having any furniture for 3 months and chasing after a puppy. Third -- I honestly felt like I lost my touch with my characters after reading Open Heart 2. The hiatus was understandable but long. There were chapters that were amazing, and heartbreaking and made me feel like I was soooo excited to write them. And then... by the end of Book 2... I felt lost? My favorite characters voices seem muffled. And I wasn’t sure how I was going to keep going. Do I ignore scenes/rewrite them? Would that compromise the premise of my fic? Being a fic that is in addition to the original PB story? I’m still a little lost if I am completely honest. Fourth -- general posting anxiety. Which I try so hard to avoid, and not think of. But comparison games, lack of notes and activity can get to you when you open yourself creatively online. 

But messages of encouragement and inquiries into the next update helped! And I thank everyone who checked in on the fic and on me to see what was going on ♡♡♡ Honestly, I felt like I had no time to write, and even if I did I wasn’t motivated or inspired enough to do it. Tonight, I felt good. The news of OH3 was a bit of a kick starter for me I won’t lie. But I want to get back into these character’s heads -- I want to figure out the god damn mess that Jordynne has made for herself with Ethan and Bryce!! 

As always any likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated. If you would like to be added/removed from the tag list please just let me know! It has been a long time since the fic updated so please let me know if you no longer want to be tagged or want to be tagged. 

Taglist: @drakewalkerfantasy​ @owleyes-374​ @lahelable​ @mayah-mahdy @paisleylovergirl​ @nicquix​ @emilymay100​ @octobereighth​ @llamasgrl​ @timmagicktoad​ @lilyofchoices @msjpuddleduck​ @mfackenthal​ @paulfwesley​ @ccolz88-blog​ @mindlessdreaminxo @jooous​ @lapisreviewsstuff​ @choicesarehard​ @themingdynasty​ @omgjasminesimone​ @hopelessly-shipper​ @binny1985​ @perriewinklenerdie​ @jens-diamondchoices​ @indiacater​ @chasingrobbie​ @writingsbymissy @dimitriwife​ @tacohead13​ @amy-choices @mrsmatsuo @checkurwindow​ @imrookieramsey​ @bitchloveskcbaseball​ @mrs-ramsey​

Previous Updates: Residency — Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part Twelve Part Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen Part Seventeen Part Eighteen Part Nineteen

Residency: Second Chances – Part One Part Two Part Three

Bryce stood near the entrance to Edenbrook — shuffling from one foot to another. Both hands were wrapped around paper coffee cups — one of which he took a careful sip of. 

So he had stopped to get her a latte from her favorite café. He knew she would probably be in a huge rush to get to work early and wouldn’t stop to get one. He wanted her day to start off right. At least he hadn’t shown up to the apartment.

Well, the thought had crossed his mind but he had quickly pushed it away. This was about being her friend. He just wanted Jordynne to have a good first day.

His dark eyes kept flicking towards the subway stairs, waiting patiently for that familiar blonde head to come bobbing up. Placing one of the cups on top of the other, he balanced them carefully as he dug into his jeans pocket for his phone. Maybe she had texted — 

“Oh Bryce — hey!” His ears perked up at the voice, and was met with a warm smile. The smile that occupied his waking dreams. He liked being the reason for that smile. 

“Hey Jordy!” God, why did he sound so breathless.

“Happy first day as a resident!” He shoved his phone back into his pocket, before grabbing onto her latte and extending it out, “I thought you should be extra caffeinated for your day, so I got you...” But his voice trailed off as he realized she was already clutching a travel mug to her chest. “Oh you already got one.”

“Uh, yeah,” Her smile turned sheepish, “I had the exact same thought process as you actually.” 

“Heh—,” he chuckled, “I guess I know you pretty well.” 

Her green eyes flashed with a look he couldn’t quite read, “Guess you do.” “Well, do you want it still...?” He held out the lukewarm latte again, unsure what to do with it. 

“Hey, I’m still Jordynne Holland. When have I ever denied extra caffeine?” Bryce’s white teeth bit his lip as they stretched into a smile. He handed her the cup — their fingers grazing slightly. 

“Thanks.” 

They fell into step behind the other roommates, trailing into the hospital. As they walked together, Bryce suddenly struggled to find what to say. He had never been one to stay quiet — usually he was the outspoken one. But now he just watched her grasp onto her two coffee cups tightly, her eyes low as she walked into Edenbrook. 

Once they made there way into the staff locker room, they separated to their own lockers. He watched out of the corner of his eye as she carefully sat her two drinks down, before grabbing her white coat. She slipped it on effortlessly, before wrapping her stethoscope around her neck. Flipping her blonde ponytail out, she turned to speak with Sienna — her voice to low for him to hear.

Jordynne looked amazing — her lean legs and hips wrapped in a deep green skirt that showed off just enough that it was both sexy and tasteful. Her high necked pale blouse brought out her olive skin. She could be the woman on the front of the pamphlets they hand out to pre-med undergrads. She already was the doctor she was aspiring to be — and he knew she would fit in well with the Diagnostics team. He thought of Ramsey — his pressed trousers, and leather dress shoes. His watch that probably cost more then Bryce’s car. Grinding his molars, he looked down at the wrinkles trousers and Nikes in his hands. Peeling his shirt off he tossed it gently into his locker, letting out a sigh.

But he quickly masked it as Jordynne went to leave the locker room. “Hey,” He caught her attention before she went to leave, “You’re gonna kill it, Holland.” 

“Thanks Lahela,” She gave him that smile again. The one that made everything flutter. 

“I’ll save you a seat at lunch?”

“Oh—“ Her eyebrows furrowed slightly in the middle, “I’m not sure how my day will look with the team... I’ll play it by ear?” She offered, looking a little guilty. 

“Yeah— yeah of course...” His voice sounded a little strained. “We’ll catch you later.” 

She nodded at him, pushing her hands into her pockets, “Okay, yeah. See you guys in the atrium,” She called out over her shoulder, her blonde ponytail swinging as she walked away. 

Bryce’s brown eyes flickered over to the rest of her roommates, who were all watching with slightly worried looks. It was starting to settle in. Maybe this second year, this second chance — was the beginning of everything changing. ________________________________________________________________ He had originally come up here to get accustomed to his new surroundings. Get a lay of the land. The board had spared no expense with the new wing expansion — and the Diagnostic team’s new office was no joke. 

Ethan was standing across the hall from the room — staring into the room through the glass walls. Everything inside was sleek, shiny and new. His hands were bunched up fists in the pockets of his trousers, and the tie around his neck felt a little tight. Had he forgotten what all of this was like while he was away?  

Thirty minutes he had stood there. 

Thirty. 

Standing there and imagining where he would sit at the table — discussing with the team, leading them to the right diagnosis. Researching at the desk, pouring over the hundred books that was supplied for them in there. 

But the picture in his head was fuzzy. Even in his imagination Ethan felt like something didn’t feel right. What was it? 

The team? No. Mirani and Hirata always did excellent work. He could rely on them.

Was it that Naveen was missing? So many of his biggest successes with the team was with Naveen. And he definitely felt his absence this past year. He had also never really adjusted to the idea of being the team lead for the department. It was thrust upon him, not once but twice. And both times he had been unprepared. Being a leader wasn’t exactly what he had always hoped for in his career.

Ethan’s thick brows were furrowed as he thought, the gears in his mind whirling. Why had he been staring at the office for thirty minutes? What was stopping him from going inside and just doing his damn work? That’s what he came back for — so what was his trepidation? 

The light flickering on in the diagnostic teams office brought him back to reality. The room was illuminated, the white light shining through the glass walls and spilling into the hall. 

There she was. 

Jordynne stood at the entrance of the office, her back facing him as she took it all in. She hadn’t notice him from across the large hallway. Ethan stepped back into the shadows — hoping she wouldn’t see him capturing the moment. A silent laugh escaped him as he watched her set not one, but two coffee cups down onto the table. His lips remained upturned as he watched her wander deeper into the room, running her fingers over the smooth surface of the whiteboard. She had a soft smile on her face as she looked around her. 

“Good morning Dr. Ramsey!”

Ethan almost hissed at the sound of the cheerful voice next time. Looking over he saw Dr. Baz Mirani standing next to him with a wide smile spread across his face. 

“Morning,” He grumbled, looking back to his view of the diagnostics office where Jordynne had started to settle in. 

“That’s Dr. Holland right?” Baz followed his line of sight, and watching her for a moment. “Are you going to head in?” The young doctor questioned, pushing his glasses further up the bridge of his nose. 

He cleared his throat, before shaking his head, “You go ahead.”

The young man didn’t think anything of it, and marched over into the office. Ethan could hear their muffled voices through the glass as they introduced each other.

He noticed the next person that came up to him — Dr. Hirata. She gave him a nod, before pausing for a moment and staring at him in the dark side of the corridor. He could tell she was calculating, attempting to deduce what was keeping him out of their new office. But her face remained neutral and she turned on her heel and headed into the room. 

Maybe there were too many variables for her to figure it out too. 

His blue eyes watched as the three colleagues got familiar with each other, shaking hands and pleasantries. Maybe this would be a perfect time to go in. He had missed the awkward introductions — the worst part was over. He just had to go into the room. 

Running his hands over his white coat, Ethan crossed the hall and stepped into the brand new office. 

“Introductions done?” He asked, his thick brows raised. He glanced over them quickly, not long enough to make any eye contact. “Great. We’ve got work to do.” The glass door behind him gently hissed as it closed — leaving them all in the office together. 

Ok. First step done.

“We have an incoming patient from Manhattan Presbyterian.” The trio slid apart to make room for him as he marched to the board, pining up an abdominal CT scan. 

Jordynne, June and Baz grabbed a spot at the circular wooden table in the middle of the room. 

“Can you describe the patient?”

“Male, aged 45. Asian American.” He watched as Jordynne took out her trusty little black notebook, and started jotting down notes. 

“Symptoms?” 

“He presented with a fever, vomiting and diarrhea, and was treated for the flu. He returned several days later with enlarged lymph nodes, abdominal pain, and a rash on his shoulder.” Grabbing onto a black marker, he started to write the known symptoms down on the white board. With his back turned to the group for a moment, he let the corners of his lips turn up for a split second. This felt good. “What did his former doctors think it was?” 

“Hodgkin lymphoma.” He made sure he kept his face neutral -- to not give any answers away. 

June scoffed, “Amateurs. And his blood?” 

He almost laughed.

As the conversation started to amp up, Ethan slipped back into his role on the diagnostics team easier then he had imagined. Bouncing off of each other during the differential — he had missed this. 

Then he realized Jordynne hadn’t said anything. She was sitting in her chair, looking slightly awestruck. But she was still writing notes diligently and observing them going back and forth. 

“Six months ago, however, he was admitted for flu-like symptoms and a rash on his arm.” Ethan continued, drawing his eyes away from her and focusing back on the conversation. 

“That could be the key. Did they biopsy it?” Baz asked, eyebrows raised and face hopeful. 

He pursed his lips, “They didn’t.”

“Any history of dermatitis?” 

“Was he on any medication prior to being admitted?” 

June and Baz asked one after the other, going through their mental lists. “No and no.” 

“It could be cutaneous Kikuchi disease.” Hirata suggested. But she didn't do suggestions -- she diagnosed. 

Interesting.  

June had gotten there first. But she was always like that. It was a race for her.  

“The symptoms do add up.” Dr. Mirani nodded, giving his colleague a look of approval. 

“I agree.” 

There was a knock on the door, and they looked up to see Danny on the other side of the glass. Ethan waved him in where he announced the patient's arrival at Edenbrook.

“Excellent. Dr. Holland,” He spoke directly to her for the first time that morning —holding his breath as he waited for her reaction. But her face remained neutral, looking up at him through her lashes as she waited for him to finish, “Run a biopsy on the patient’s rash. If we’re correct, we’ll begin the patient on a treatment of nonsteroidal anti-inflammatories and prednisone.” 

He noticed her swallow for a moment, listening to her instructions. “And if we’re wrong?” 

“We’ll re-evaluate.” 

“But we won’t need to,” June said confidently, leaning across the table at Jordynne with a wink. 

“Team dismissed. I’ll page you if I need you again today.” He turned around, going back to the white board to add their final notes and treatment plan. 

Out of his peripheral vision he saw Baz put a gentle hand on Jordynne’s shoulder. He lowered his head to speak in her softly, “I made the same face my first few days on the team. You’ll get used to it.”  

Ethan crossed over to his desk to find the patient's file. Rummaging in his pockets, he found his glasses and slid them on. Without looking up from his file, he spoke to Jordynne who had remained in the room, “After you’re done with our patient, you can see Ines and Zaid for further assignments. You’ll be balancing your work here with your usual resident duties. Now that you’re in your second year, that will include rotations at the free clinic.” 

“Yes, Dr. Ramsey.” Her voice was so professional, so trained. He had never heard her sound like that. It was like she had practiced.

He heard the sound of her crossing the room, and stepping towards the door. But then she hesitated. “Will we always diagnose a patient without seeing them?” She asked. 

“No, but we’re often asked for help by other hospitals all over the country, so it’s a good habit to keep our blind diagnosis skills sharp.” He finally looked up from his file, using his finger as a bookmark in it. But when he looked over to, his stomach flipped slightly as he found that her green eyes already staring at him.

He could see her hesitation, and maybe some nerves. She had just been thrown into the deep end -- and it seemed she was struggling to stay afloat. 

“Is everything alright, Jordynne?” 

He couldn’t help himself. Plus, it was his responsibility to ensure her success on the team now. It was apart of his job to check in on her.

“Actually...,” She made sure the glass door closed, before stepping further into the room, “Could we talk?” Her fingers were knotted together in front of her -- she looked nervous, and vulnerable. 

Ethan studied her for a moment, chewing the inside of his cheek, “About the job? Or about us?” 

Her eyebrows furrowed for a moment, like she was in pain. But it was for just for the smallest moment -- he had barely even caught it. “The job.”

Placing the file down, he pulled a chair from the center table out for her where they sat down together. He adjusted his glasses on the crook of his nose, before settling into his chair. “I’m all yours,” He said, folding his hands carefully on top of each other on the table as he waited for her to speak up.

“Dr. Ramsey...," A flicker of doubt crossed her face, before she opened her mouth, "How are you sure you made the right diagnosis?"

Grabbing the file in front of him, he pulled out the patient's previous charts and placed them in front of them. “In medicine, the most logical answer is usually the correct one. In this case, the most obvious answer was Hodgkin lymphoma.”

“But the other hospital had already eliminated Hodgkin lymphoma.” She finished for him. 

“Correct. Which allowed us to take it off the board and considered the next most logical answer.” He pointed back over his shoulder to the symptoms he had written on the board in his chicken scratch, “The patient had a persistent rash. Paired with the symptoms present, the most logical answer is Kikuchi disease." He met her eye easily across the table, before matching her vulnerability, "But as to how I’m so sure, I’m not. Which is why you’ll be running a biopsy. We need to trust in our diagnostic instincts, but the second we let arrogance overrule the results, we fail as doctors.” 

“So I should use logic... and be humble?” Her eyebrows were tugging in the middle as she processed his advice.  

“And read journals. I want you to turn yourself into a walking disease encyclopedia. You can’t diagnose the patient if you don’t study up. If the patients we saw had more common diseases... they’d never have been referred to us in the first place.” 

“Got it.” She nodded -- eyeing the bookshelves behind them that were filled with textbooks.

“So what did you think of the team?" He asked curiously, "It was the three of us under Naveen last year, until he put himself out to pasture.” 

A soft chuckle escaped her, “You mean became Chief of Medicine?”

He smiled at the sound, “Precisely.” 

“Well, we just met but I think I liked Baz.” Jordynne offered, pursing her lips.  

“He’s hard to dislike. Walking proof that genetics aren’t everything.” 

“When did he join the team?”

“A couple years ago, when Zaid began his residency. He sought a position here to be closer to his brother.” 

Her eyebrows raised in surprise, “Can’t believe Zaid would be okay with that.” 

“Supposedly, the old chief cleared it with Zaid before he approved the transfer. But I heard a rumor that it was Baz, dressed up pretending to be Zaid.” 

Her mouth fell open, “He wouldn’t!” 

He shrugged, a cheeky smile spreading across his face. “I don’t pay any mind to rumors.” 

She smirked back at him -- and he could feel the nervousness and ice melting between them. They could do this. 

Two colleagues conversing normally. This was fine. 

“So if I want to get on Baz’s good side, how do I go about that?” She leaned in a bit more towards him, putting her elbow on the table and resting her chin on her fist. 

Ethan thought for a moment before replying, “Baz is earnest to a fault. He respects authenticity more than anything so... as much as I despise saying anything so incredibly banal, my advice would be... “be yourself”,” He grimaced as the words left his mouth. 

“Oof—“ She chuckled, “That must have hurt to say aloud.” She knew him well. “That’s why you’ll never hear it again.” 

She let out another laugh, but this one sounded more sad. Then a sigh escaped her, and she started picking at her lip, “I thought I was so ready for this year. How do I feel like a clueless intern all over again?”

“Because you are clueless, relatively speaking.” 

She frowned, “Gee, thanks.”

His stomach dropped -- that's not what he meant. “It wasn't an insult," He scrambled to get out, "You get to spend the second year of your residency in a small room with over three decades of collective medical knowledge and experience. Learn from it. Be inspired to become a better doctor from it.” He looked up, and found her already looking at him again. His thick brows furrowed, “What is it?” 

“Oh uh... your glasses...," Her words trailed off as she looked at him, "They make you look smart.” She sounded a little breathless. 

He did his best to ignore how that made him feel, the blush that might have been creeping up on his cheeks. So he hid between cheek and tongue. “You’ve caught me. The illusion behind my status. Without these I’m a simpering moron.”

The pair was quiet for a beat, before bursting out laughing. As they laughed, she casually tapped his hand with hers. “Thank you,” She spoke again, but this time her voice was quiet. 

Her fingers had lingered on his hand, so she gave it a squeeze. They were cold on his warm skin.

Ethan's jaw set as he felt those familiar sparks. Jordynne...” His voice was a warning. It was only the first hour of their first day. 

“I know.” She said carefully, but she looked down at the table. 

“We’ll be okay. We’ll make it work.” 

He wasn’t sure who he was trying to convince. 

“Yeah,” She breathed out. 

He moved his thumb gently across her fingers, daring to give her just that smallest bit of comfort. But the sound of the glass door whooshing open caused him to rip his hand away. 

“Whoops! Forgot my pager! That could have been very bad!” Baz strolled back into the office -- oblivious to what he had just walked in on. 

Both Ethan and Jordynne bolted out of their chairs, stepping away from each other. 

“Hmm. Yes. It’s right over there on the table.” Ethan pointed before shoving his guilty hands into his lab coat.

“I’ll get those tests run.” Jordynne had moved to the door, her arms crossed over her chest and face flushing red with embarrassment. 

“Excellent. Thank you.” He said with a nod, watching as she turned on her heel and marched down the hallway. 

Why was nothing ever easy with Jordynne Holland? 

Would this year be any different? 

_______________________________________________________________

"Cholecystitis." Jordynne said as she finished adding it to the whiteboard in the diagnostics room. Her perfect block letters standing out drastically against Dr. Ramsey's messy scratch. "Inflamed gull bladder which explains the abdominal pain after eating. Which is entirely separate from Kikuchi disease."

She turned around, capping the pen with a confident smile. Esme was standing near the door, watching the scene unfurl with crossed arms. 

"I have to say, I'm not sure I would have spotted that." June spoke first -- looking mildly impressed. 

"Nice catch, Jordynne." Baz gave her a big smile. 

"Indeed. Especially since we had been diagnosing based on reports, not our own face-to-face interviews. Dr. Holland's specialty has always been listening to her patients. Well done." He gave her a nod, a smile threatening to show on his face. 

"It wasn't just me. Dr. Ortega assisted." She nodded to her intern at the door. She knew that drove Ethan crazy -- passing along credit to her colleagues. But Esme deserved it. 

"Hey," Esme nodded her head at the trio from the corner of the room, attempting a smile.

"So this is your intern?" Ramsey stepped forward, eyebrows raised. "Well, Dr. Ortega...," He sized her up for a moment, before moving his steely eyes over to Jordynne. "Dr. Holland's one of our best. Consider yourself lucky."

Jordynne felt warmth spread in her chest -- feeling proud of herself. High praise from Dr. Ramsey -- everything between them aside. 

"I do, Dr. Ramsey." 

"Keep me updated on his treatment." Ethan asked politely, before filing out of the room with the rest of the diagnostics team. 

"So I guess you're pretty good at this." Her intern looked at her with a little smirk. "You saw for yourself, I learned from the best. Edenbrook has some of the best doctors in America, and you'll learn from them all. And not just the attendings, but your fellow interns too. I wouldn't have made it through without my friends."

"You telling me to what... be more social?" Esme looked up at her -- her face filled with doubt.

She shrugged, the corners of her lips tugging up, "It can't hurt."

"It definitely can."

"Donahue's from the other night? That's where everyone goes. But first, let's get you back to your patients." Jordynne started to shuffle out of the office, but Esme's voice stopped her. 

"Right... Hey, Dr. Holland? Thanks for not bailing on me. Gotta say, that's a new one." She sounded genuine.

"Sure thing, Ortega. I got your back." 

This year could be different.

[secret-diary-of-an-fa]

God of War (PS4) Review: Kratos’ Postal Grief Beard Versus Norse Mythology

Once upon a time, a man was born by the name of Cory Barlog and thus a coin was flipped. Would he become a videogame developer or would he take up guarding the Mines of Moria by pulling wizards into a precipice? Those really are the only two options with a name like Barlog. Anyway, apparently the Mines of Moria were a bit of a commute, so the world gained a talented Auteur developer with a unique vision for a game series about going postal in ancient Greece. Fast-foward a number of years specifically calculated to make you feel old and ancient Greece is a distant memory. Norse mythology is where all the cool kids hang out nowadays, and that’s where we’re going in today’s review.

As you might have guessed, I’ve just finished playing God of War (PS4), which is fun to say because it rhymes. It’s a very good game that should be a very bad game. When considering modern media artefacts, I’m often prompted to ask the question ‘what went so wrong?’, but this may be the first time I’ve had to ask the question ‘what went so right?’.

Let me explain: God of War 4 (I don’t care that they don’t put the number on the box art, that’s what it fucking is) makes a single, monumentally stupid creative decision that should ruin the entire enterprise, but doesn’t. And that creative decision was- wait for it- a stab at maturity.

The last time we saw Kratos- the world’s angriest mythical being- he was finishing his battle with the Greek gods in God of War 3. There was a moment in that game which, to me, typified what was so great about the series. If I recall the sequence of events correctly, you kill your way through an ocean of expendable goons and critters who are just trying to defend their home on Mount Olympus, dripping with blood and screaming furiously, then wander into the bedroom of one of ancient Greece’s sauciest goddesses and play a sex minigame that you win by fucking her so well that her handmaids orgasm too. Then you toddle outside again and, head cleared, solve an incredibly complex and cerebral puzzle involving non-Euclidean geometry and perspective manipulation that takes bloody ages. That, in a nutshell, was the core identity of the original God of War: a gleefully unrestrained and immature approach to sex and violence coupled with a grouchy willingness to make unsuspecting players feel like fucking idiots for no reason whatsoever. It was awesome. In contrast, God of War 4 picks up many, many years later with Kratos hiding out in Midgard of the Norse mythos and, for once, he hasn’t got a nark on and he’s not trying to stick his cock in someone with cartoonishly huge knockers. He’s just sad because his missus has passed away, leaving him and their young, impressionable son alone in a big, scary world full of trolls and ginger psychopaths. ‘Sad’ isn’t a completely new emotion for Kratos, but, up until this point, he was usually sad in a way that resulted in five hundred people getting their spines broken in a very colourful manner. Now he just wants to cremate the remains of the woman he loved and carry her ashes to the tallest peak in the nine realms so he can scatter her in accordance with her final wishes. And that’s what he does, with son- Atreus- in tow. It’s a twenty-plus hour game in which the objective is very simply to honour someone’s preferred funeral rites- nothing more, nothing less. It’s very modest by Kratos usual standards. Remember that his stated goal in the previous game was to punch freakin’ Zeus so hard that his face would go all concave and then repeatedly stamp on his corpse.

We never actually find out much about what Kratos was up to between games or how he met his wife. However, he’s a bit thiccer than in previous instalments and seems to have lost the use of the ‘jump’ button outside of context-sensitive environments. On that evidence, I choose to believe he’s been running a small but successful family restaurant called ‘Kratos’ Potatoes’ and enjoying it all a bit much. And why not? He beat up Zeus- if he just wants to create and sample homely yet exotic Greco-Norse fusion cuisine while growing a ridiculous straggly dad-beard, I say let him crack on. Actually, is it a ‘dad beard’ or is it a ‘grief beard’? I think they send them to videogame characters in the post whenever a loved one dies so they can signal to the world how sad they are through the medium of angsty facial hair. But where was? Oh yeah: cracking on with it.

Y’see this is where the plot comes in: the Norse gods won’t let Kratos crack on. They’re determined to make him bow before Odin- especially Baldur, who is way too invested in having a fight with Kratos for reasons that won’t become apparent until very late in the game. They just keep turning up and trying to break Kratos and his increasingly like-him-but-not-as-good-at-it son Atreus. This time around, our heroes commit heinous acts of violence to defend themselves, not enact revenge, as they travel, inexorably, to the top of a lonely mountain through landscapes of stunning natural beauty and many, many hostile creatures.

Of course, Kratos taking his son on a hiking holiday with added troll-murder and the occasional slap-fight with Norse mythology’s biggest killjoys doesn’t sound as interesting as the original games. After all, those were basically a production of Kill Bill in which the part of Bill was played by a guy with the power to summon lightning bolts and access to a seemingly unstoppable army of monsters and demigods. The ‘fun factor’ even seems to have taken another downgrade, in that Kratos no longer operates with the entertainingly demented passion of the insane: he has been tempered by time and love and managed to turn himself into a paragon of serious self control. So why is God of War 4 so bloody good? Partly, I suspect, the answer lies in the constantly evolving relationship between Kratos and Atreus, which gives the story an unbelievable amount of heart and always manages to feel very organic. Kratos never learned how to be a parent, and we essentially watch him do it in real time, forming a bond with his son that seems impossible at the start of the game and inevitable by the end. Partly, the games greatness lies in the characters you meet along the way, who range from bickering dwarves to talking, decapitated heads who prattle on like laid-back tour-guides. Partly, it’s in the beautiful, epic landscapes that make the journey across the Realms to the highest peak feel epic and significant, even while it is small and personal.

But a videogame is nothing without gameplay, and it is here that God of War 4 really shines. I loved the original God of War trilogy (especially the third instalment), but I rarely felt like I was playing as, y’know, a god of war. Kratos might not be an uncontrollable whirlwind of fury any more, but he feels truly powerful for the first time in the ongoing series. In fights, every punch feels like it could crack stone; every axe-throw like it could rend the sky; every chain-whip like it could legitimately start a forest-fire. Out of combat, Kratos moves around the environment with the stolid grace of a man who knows his movements are inevitable; irresistible; an imposition on the environment that can’t be denied. You climb and complete elaborate, complex traversals knowing that the satisfaction you feel isn’t just the satisfaction of finding the correct route or solving an obstacle, but the satisfaction of a being forcing his way through a landscape that resists him at every turn but cannot stop him. The puzzles- of which there are many- strike the perfect balance between conceptual trickiness and ease of execution to remind you that Kratos is smart as well as determined; that his mind is as indomitable as his body. Then there are the little touches involving heaving huge stone pillars and similar unnecessarily over-the-top efforts. In short, the gameplay is interwoven with who Kratos is- with what he is in way that seems completely unprecedented. Even the RPG elements feel  appropriate: they reflect the protagonist’s growing confidence in a skillet he hasn’t used in a long, long time.

Do I miss the uniquely juvenile, over the top identity of the old games? Absolutely: I’m a great fan of gratuitous gore and scantily clad women with big fuck-off swords. Usually, I find the desire for maturity in games to be a silly, pretentious trend that foolishly eschews anything obviously ‘fun’ for no reason other than courting the respect of people whose respect isn’t worth having. But I don’t think that’s what’s going on here- at least, not entirely. The developers of the God of War games are clearly artisans and craftsmen of extreme talent: their attention to detail is superb and their ability to weave a good tale from a simple premise is actually a little daunting for someone who considers himself a bloody good story-teller. It’s worth remembering that the de facto head of the studio, Barlog, became a father himself before commencing work on this game about a father learning to bond with his son. It feels personal and meant because it is. Other games might reach for superficially mature themes like family and redemption for altogether cynical reasons. God of War 4 does it because such thoughts are clearly much on the developer’s mind. I asked already ‘Do I miss the identity of the old games?’ and the answer is still yes. But that question deserves a follow-up: am I willing to embrace the identity of this new, quieter God of War anyway? And yes, yes I am.

But if we could have a few more women with enormous knockers and Kratos going properly batshit just once or twice in the next sequel, that would also be welcome. I mean, let’s try to strike a balance here, people, for pity’s sake.

[fatalism-and-villainy]

What Makes a Work “Fannish” for Me?

So there’s been some well-need pushback against the idea that fandom-inclined people are “ignoring” quality media, or media with more unique premises/plotlines, more explicit canonical queerness, etc. This post, in particular, points out that people, in their fandom activity, tend to gravitate towards more “fandom viable” works, but that their taste could very well stretch beyond that. I agree with the general sentiment, but it got me interested in poking at what, exactly, constitutes “fandom viable.” My own fannish history is perhaps a little idiosyncratic, and my tastes are individual, so I can’t claim to speak for everyone here, but I did isolate certain aspects of a work that make me personally more inclined to write fic about it, read fic about it, extensively headcanon about it, write meta about it*, etc.

*My analysis brain is rarely turned off, but churning out actual quality longform analyses or interpretations, as opposed to condensed observations, take brain power that I don’t want to devote to everything I watch.

Here’s the reasons I could come up:

There has to be a semi-substantial fandom in place already. I won’t be prompted to think extensively and fannishly about something if the infrastructure to do so isn’t in place already! 

By extension, there has to be a lot of Lore in the work or its worldbuilding to pick apart and analyze, or at least a lot of interpretative potential to its characters and relationships. I first got drawn to online fandom for meta, and that still exerts a powerful pull in me in terms of whether or not I want to engage with a fandom (even in fanfiction-related ways). 

There has to be something porous about it, some sort of empty space I can crawl into. I’ve seen people cite the work in question letting them down as a motivation to participate in fandom, because they want to write or read fix-fic. That’s not quite what I’m getting at here, or not necessarily - sometimes the work in question works completely well and feels perfectly realized as its own story, but still leaves lots of potential to expand it beyond the bounds of its structure. The Silmarillion, for instance, is very broad strokes in its narrative, which works for its aims considering it’s meant to be an historical/mythological account (with various in-universe framing devices). But the extent to which important events, character interactions, and eras are glossed over leaves open lots of room for a fan to hone in on a particular element of the story and magnify it. The story as it functions purely on its own level is the appeal for me as a reader; the ambiguity and expanse of space to imagine the relationships in any number of ways is the appeal for me as a fan. 

There has to be a large cast. Gertrude Stein imagined theatre as analogous to a landscape painting in that it focused on group structures and relationships, and that’s the kind of approach I like to take to fanfic, and to building my own headcanon-universe. I often have my favourite characters, of course, but I’m not the kind of person who focuses exclusively on one character or ship. I’m drawn to networks of people whose lives rotate around and brush up against each other, and who offer a variety of permutations in interaction to play around with. A lot of the novels and stories I love don’t lend themselves to this, because they’re essentially a one-man show, with other characters existing to serve that one protagonist’s story. I need to have not necessarily multiple protagonists or POV characters, but multiple characters who are players in the game and whose perspectives, backstories, and interiority are at least hinted at. This is a big appeal of MDZS for me - it’s Wei Wuxian’s story, but there are numerous side characters who are given attention and whose personal relationships are important plot-wise or theme-wise. 

There needs to be a fantasy element - more specifically, it needs to take place in a world not our own. (Whether or not Star Trek or the MCU could count as this is.... questionable). Obviously not everyone feels this way - see Hannibal, Sherlock, and countless other popular fandoms that are set in our world. But for me personally, I like to have some remove, and in fact feel rather uncomfortable at the prospect. The reasons for this are twofold. One is negative - I’ve never felt entirely comfortable with writing stories that take place in our world, especially with no magical or otherworldly aspect. It’s hard to say why this is, as my reading habits certainly don’t tend in that direction - I read and enjoy a lot of realistic fiction, and, while I enjoy SFF, I’m quite picky about it. (This is what we mean by “people fannish tastes don’t necessarily indicate their media tastes as a whole.”) But I find writing those kinds of stories stifling and hard to express my voice in, for some reason. The other reason is positive - I get a lot of active joy in cultural worldbuilding, in playing in fictional settings not my own. This is a big appeal of The Silmarillion, and why I’ve toyed with writing fic for Homestuck. I will say that I also like writing queer characters and relationships, and there’s no way I want to touch real world queer identity and politics. There’s an appeal to exploring issues like those through a funhouse mirror. Art lets us look at our reality a bit slantwise. 

I’m sure there are other factors present for me, especially ones that are more minor or idiosyncratic, but those are the main ones for me. I’m curious to know what the draws for that particular kind of engagement are for other people!

[legobiwan]

Whumptober #2

“pick who dies”

Notes: This got out of control. I was going to add an Obi-wan + Anakin section but I had to cut myself off as I do have other things I need to get to today. This is less whump than...a set of pretentious character studies with THE LINEAGE (including Rael) and an excuse to explore the trolley problem within a Star Wars setting. I blame my recent Hannibal obsession for what you see below. First part here, rest under the cut. Note, I am a musician, not a philosophy student, so allow for some creative interpretation here. 

General Whumptober tag

Whumptober 2020 #1

~~~~~~~

(excerpt from “The Padawan’s Guide to Philosophy.” Eds. Masters Thrife-Foran & Ugaaalich. 616th e. Coruscant, 940 ARR. Holobook.)

Premise:

You are out for an afternoon walk in the outer regions of Thymilla, a moderately-populated city on the planet Ungar. On your walk, you pass by a set of hovertrain tracks, which branch into two separate arms - one an extension of the main track, the other a smaller offshoot which leads to a cargo loading zone, about fifty clicks south of where you are. (Diagram 3)

As a hovertrain approaches from the north, you hear screaming, the words of the driver becoming clearer as the hovertrain barrels towards the switch. The brakes of the train have failed and there is no chance of repair. If the train continues on its current path, it will kill five workers making repairs on the track. If you pull a switch, the hovertrain will divert to the offshoot, where it will kill one worker at the cargo loading zone.

Because of an anomaly in Ungar’s atmosphere, you cannot access the Force.

Do you pull the switch or do nothing and allow the train to speed forward?

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan.”

Dooku shifted on his meditation pod, the firm material groaning as he uncrossed his legs from the lotus position, gingerly setting both his bare feet to the cool, tiled floor of his Master’s chambers. The young man allowed himself a small wince with the action. Yoda might have been able to keep that damnable position for hours, probably days on end, but Dooku was just a few months shy of his eighteenth life day, and another recent growth spurt seemingly focused all on his legs made sitting for any long amount of time…uncomfortable, to say the least.

Which was likely why Yoda had had him trapped him here for the past three hours, running through one ethical thought experiment after the other, poking his literal and metaphorical gimmer stick precisely at each gnarled and swollen joint in both his body and thoughts.

To act - to pull the switch - would mean to commit premeditated murder, even if it were for the greater good. Hardly a Jedi-like action. But then again, they had been taught - indoctrinated, really - with the idea that is was acceptable to sacrifice one life for the lives of many. A supposedly fair trade-off, although Dooku had seen enough of the Jedi’s relationship to the Senate, had seen enough of the Council’s internal politics, to know that two lives did not necessarily hold equal weight.

But to not act - to let the train barrel through, to leave it up to the will of the Force...Dooku clenched his teeth. That seemed more in line with the Order he was coming to know, was consistent with the Council’s lack of action on Protobranch, when Sifo-Diyas had seen the calamity that was to befall the planet and yet the Council, his Master, had done too little, too late, preferring to allow events to transpire as they would, the Jedi only impassive bystanders.

What was the point of their abilities, their training, their place in the universe, if they weren’t able to change the course of events for the better?

“I suppose,” Dooku began slowly, coming to stand, suddenly not caring if he was maintaining his proper meditation position. The young man padded towards the slightly shuttered windows on the other side of the room.

“I suppose it depends on the relative worth of each life,” he said, turning away from Yoda as to not see the subtle moue of distaste Dooku was certain would cross the old Master’s face.

“Is not all life sacred, Padawan?”

Dooku barely bit back the dark chuckle threatening to escape from his chest. Only in the holos and classrooms and the empty rhetoric of the Council was all life sacred. The Jedi could do so much more, he could do so much more to change the galaxy and yet the Order allowed itself to be chained to politicians, leashed like akk-dogs until receiving command.

No, Dooku thought. There was no balance - not here and not in the Force.

“From the information you’ve provided,” Dooku said, ignoring Yoda’s question. He peered through the slits of the rotor blinds into the watery illumination of Coruscant’s night sky. The dome of the Senate building rose through the rain like an oddly-shaped umbrella, shielding those in power with its wide beadth. “We can assume both parties of victims are of equal social standing, being manual laborers. Because of this, we must find other ways of determining their worth, their ability to enact change in the galaxy.”

Dooku clasped his hands behind his back, daring to turn to face his Master’s displeasure.

“The question becomes whether you want to hold sway over the transit network of a forgettable city, or the imports and exports that may go off-world. Exports which might include valuable resources or even smuggled goods. Items which could affect the governance of our imagined city and therefore, by extension, an even larger part of the populace.”

“Which is why, in this case,” Dooku concluded, his posture straightening, “I would choose to allow the hovertrain to continue its course and save the cargo worker.”

Yoda folded both claws over his gimmer stick, frowning. After a moment, he let out a small grunt, his features now inscrutable.

“And see yourself as the final arbiter of worth, do you, my young apprentice? Stand you above all others holding a golden scale, you do?”

Don’t we, as Jedi, hold these scales every day and yet choose to ignore them? Dooku thought.

“Someone,” the young man replied, “will make the judgment regardless. Is it not better for the Jedi to use our powers to make such decisions?”

This time Yoda did let out a wet sigh, shaking his head.

“Dangerous, these thoughts are, my Padawan,” Yoda grumbled, gesturing at the meditation pod. “Sit, young Dooku. Much we have to discuss.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Rael.”

Rael Averross slung an arm over the back of Dooku’s couch, sleeves of his Master’s borrowed robe hanging long near the tips of his fingers. It had been the third time that month Rael had “misplaced” his own robe, his Master’s foisted upon him in the wee hours of the morning, Dooku grunting something about “Jedi propriety” before shoving Rael out the door. (The things were a damned inconvenience, and made him look like something straight out of a space station ghost story, to boot. Was it so surprising he showed up to Dooku’s quarters in a state which his Master referred to as “half-naked?”)

Rael bit his lip, trying to not think of all the times he had actually been half-naked in the Temple. Those were fun times. Unfortunately, Dooku could probably mind read them out of him right now if he weren’t so concentrated on this thought experiment.

“Why not save them both?” Rael drawled amiably, scratching at the beginnings of a beard with his other hand as he hoped to distract his Master from any hint of his past indiscretions. It was about time, too, he thought. Never going to look my age going around all smooth-faced like a transparisteel window surface.

Dooku gave a small smile. “You cannot, Rael. Those are the rules of the scenario.”

“Rules,” Rael scoffed, picking at the hem of Dooku’s overly-fancy robe before suddenly launching to his feet, unable to contain his restlessness. The younger Jedi paced up and down the length of Dooku’s couch, grateful his usually strict Master was allowing him this indulgence. Not that Dooku had any problem sitting still for what felt like forever - stiff as a board, that one - but Rael was too jittery, too full potential energy to keep his thoughts in neat line with his body. “Rules are meant to be broken, Master,” Rael gave a swift chop with his hand in illustration. “You’re the first one to tell me that.”

Rael heard his Master let out a soft snort in response. Only Dooku could make such a noise sound dignified. “I suppose I did,” the older man answered evenly.

“So there you go! Blow up the train and everyone’s fine.”

“And kill the driver?”

Rael spun to face Dooku, the other man’s eyebrows raised not in condemnation, but genuine interest. It was days like this Rael truly appreciated having Dooku as a Master. Sure, he was as pretentious as any big-city Senator, a hard taskmaster in his lessons, and an even tougher dueling trainer - but at the end of the day, Dooku only expected Rael to follow Dooku’s rules, and not the Order’s.

And as much as Rael chaffed under any collar, he’d take Dooku’s version of the Code over the Council’s any day.

“I mean, the driver is the one in control of the train,” Rael shrugged. “Sure, it’s an accident, but the they were going to be dead either way once they hit those other bodies. Probably would go flying through the window and bash their skull in. This way, you save six lives,” Rael gave his best used speeder salesman grin. “Buy five, get one free.”

That little addition did cause his Master to roll his eyes.

“You are…” Dooku pressed his lips together, sitting back in his chair, crossing one leg over the other. It was as close as Dooku ever got to a casual posture. “Colorful rhetoric aside, you are essentially advocating for pre-emptive action. Very interesting, Rael.”

“Interesting as in,” Rael pulled a sour face, imitating Dooku’s proper Serennian accent, “‘And now I will assign you five Jedi moral precepts to memorize and write a five-page essay about’ or interesting as in ‘I will now have you learn the complete codified law of the Umbargans, whose entire military strategy revolved around non-preemptive attacks.”

Dooku chuckled - actually chuckled - at Rael’s minor impertinent outburst. “Neither, Rael. Although, I must say you have provided me the perfect means by which I may punish you later on.” Damn, dug my own grave with that one, thought Rael. 

“No,” Dooku continued, “I merely find your stance on this matter to be refreshingly…original.”

“You mean the Council wouldn’t approve?”

It took his Master a full minute to answer, his gaze shifting beyond Rael, beyond the confines of their shared quarters, Dooku seeming lost in some memory.

“Hardly,” he finally said. “And that is for the best.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan?”

Qui-gon Jinn sat motionless on the small patch of grass, listening to the susurrations of the light breeze in the Room of a Thousand Fountains finger through a nearby thicket of Borto reeds. Across from him, Master Dooku sat in a mirrored pose, long legs crossed over the other in the lotus position, expression unreadable, his presence in the Force - or, his effect on the Force presence on the vegetation around him - one of controlled expectancy, a single blade of grass erect and ready despite the buffeting winds.

“We shouldn’t have to choose, Master,” Qui-gon replied, trying to steady his own uneven thoughts and emotions. Although he had been Dooku’s Padawan for almost five years now, Qui-gon still found himself worrying his responses to thought experiments like these would not pass his Master’s high and stringent intellectual standards.

“In an ideal world, Qui-gon, we wouldn’t. But as you have learned - as I have shown you - the status quo rarely measures up to our ideals.”

The status quo, Qui-gon thought. Code for the Senate, for the Council, for the Republic at large. That much he had figured out, had learned from Rael, whose ability to translate Dooku’s sometimes opaque rhetoric to something more digestible never ceased to amaze Qui-gon.

The status quo. The more years he spent with Dooku - with Rael, when the younger man was around - the more Qui-gon understood. Perhaps he always had a predilection to question, to challenge what was “known,” the dictums etched in stone handed down from the Council to the Council’s Masters to its Padawans. But with Dooku’s guidance, and with his own exploration of the Jedi prophecies, Qui-gon had developed his own sense of right and wrong, of how the galaxy ought to work in consonance with the ideals of the Jedi Code and his own moral compass.

“In that case, I would ask the Force for guidance,” Qui-gon replied, thoughts slipping back to the many hours he had spent in the Archives, poring over ancient holocrons. The Force had provided for the seers of old, why shouldn’t it provide now?

“Perhaps the Force cannot provide all the answers,” Dooku countered, as if reading his mind.

Qui-gon frowned, tilting his head. “Is that not what the Jedi teach, Master? What you teach? To follow the Force?”

“To a degree,” Dooku assented, rare amusement curling the side of his lips. “But the Jedi work in symbiosis with the Force, and even that is within a certain self-imposed definition of what the Force may or may not be capable of.”

Self-imposed definition? Qui-gon ran his hands through the soft grass at his sides, no longer able to keep that perfect stillness now that Dooku had so upset his equilibrium. Had his study of the prophecies not proven that exact point? That the Jedi of now no longer regarded the Force with as open a mind those of millennia ago?

“The Force is more infinite, has more potentialities than the confines of what we could possibly hope to study in a thousand lifetimes,” Qui-gon hedged.

“And so you hope to use prophecy to save these doomed beings?” Dooku retorted with a small wave of his hand. Ah yes, the hovertrain problem, Qui-gon grimaced. He had almost quite forgotten about the whole reason for this conversation.

“I would hope to…” Qui-gon cocked his head, watching a pair of butterflies flutter over a Byrsonima crassifolia, fragile leaves fluttering in their wake. An action - or a lack of action. If he saved one life or saved five. What would the repercussions be? How could he know he was making the right choice? How could the Order know, if not for guidance from the Force, in all its possible iterations?

And yet, the study prophecy of was considered at best, an esoteric hobby - at worst, a dangerous arm of mysticism by much of the Council.

Which is why your Master encourages you to think beyond the dictates of the Council, Qui-gon concluded.

“Yes, then,” Qui-gon stated, suddenly more confident in his answers. “I would hope to ameliorate the situation by using a similar mindset of the prophets. One of openness, wonder, and possibility - to find my way in this situation.”

“And just how far would you be willing to take supposed,” Dooku trained him with an enigmatic expression, “openness?” The word weighed heavy with implication.

Qui-gon started. What exactly is Dooku trying to get at here? Hadn’t it been his Master who had introduced him to the prophecies, to the Force beyond the dictates of the Code? So far, Dooku had not steered him wrong, and yet just as the nearby Byrsonima crassifolia cast a long shadow over the open grass, so did Dooku’s unspoken entreaty.

But before Qui-gon could cobble together an answer, Dooku seemed to break out of his trance, chuckling slightly as he got to his feet. He extended a long arm to Qui-gon, who took it without hesitation, coming to stand at his Master’s side.

“Meditate on the answer, Qui-gon. For now, I believe it is past time for dinner.”

~~~~~~~

“Your thoughts, Padawan.”

Obi-wan Kenobi shifted in the overly-large, overly-plush velvet chair which threatened to swallow him whole. He and Qui-gon had been dispatched to Barstovia, a little-known desert mining planet in the Mid-Rim. A simple mission, really, overseeing a trade deal between Barstovia and Ord Mantell, opening up some shipping lines of the rare fermenium mineral to the Republic. A wholly forgettable mission, if Obi-wan were being honest, except for the fact the diminutive race of Barstovia seemed to prize, of all the unlikely things, oversized, over-upholstered furniture.

While Obi-wan struggled with a crimson throw pillow the size of his torso, his master, Qui-gon Jinn, sat across from him, perfectly serene in his eight-foot tall, royal blue armchair.

“Well, Master,” Obi-wan said, words strained as he punched the pillow to his side with un-Jedi-like ferocity. Of all times for Qui-gon to pull out a thought experiment.

“The prevailing wisdom would say to sacrifice one life to save five - a utilitarian outlook and the most practical, at least on the surface.” Obi-wan pushed down on the seat of his chair, trying in vain to straighten his posture, to lend his answer some form of credence beyond his words. Inevitably, Qui-gon would hold the exact opposite opinion from Obi-wan’s, and while Obi-wan had often kept his feelings to himself under the guise of “picking his battles,” he preferred to express his thoughts while at least looking the part of an almost eighteen-year-old Padawan, and not some child stuck in a chair too large for him.  He struck at the recalcitrant cushion one last time. “But as Jedi, we often prioritize a single being or beings if they hold an important role.” 

“In the short-term,” Obi-wan grimaced suddenly, pulling an impossible second pillow from under his right thigh, “we would lose four lives over one, granted. But in the long-term, that single life lost might mean the eventual deaths of hundreds, perhaps thousands.”

“But you do not have this information, Padawan,” Qui-gon replied, a crease of annoyance in his brow. Obi-wan noted there was no accompanying crease in the cushion of his Master’s chair. “All you know is the number of beings.”

Obi-wan bit down on a caustic reply. Yes, I know that, Master. I hadn’t gotten to my point yet. But when did Qui-gon actually ever listen to him?

“Yes, Master, this is true,” the younger Jedi answered, Obi-wan impressed with the evenness of his own response despite his increasing irritation. “Which is why I would endeavor to save them all.”

A beat. a raised eyebrow coupled with a subtle sigh. “Quite the feat, Obi-wan,” Qui-gon finally said, his words laced with skepticism. “How would you accomplish such a thing?”

How in the world is he not drowning in that chair? Obi-wan thought, distracted by his Master’s impenetrability, despite the audacious situation. There was Qui-gon, halfway across the room, composed and neat - well, as neat as Qui-gon ever got - against the regal backdrop of the humorously-sized chair while Obi-wan floundered in a sea of crimson, just out of his Master’s reach.

And wasn’t that the perfect metaphor for their troubled partnership?

Obi-wan wiped at his brow. “It’s quite simple, Master. The hovertrain could be diverted, or at least impeded by a third party inserting themselves into the equation.”

Something in Qui-gon’s expression shifted at the statement, earlier annoyance now melting into something closer to concern. The older man leaned forward in his chair, for the first time exhibiting a pang of discomfort as he battled the voluminous material.

“And who might that be?” Qui-gon asked, batting at the tsunami of beige woven blanket at his side.

“Myself, of course.”

Dead silence met Obi-wan’s words.

Wrong answer, Kenobi. Absolutely the wrong answer. Disappointment was written all over Qui-gon’s body language, even emanating from his usually controlled Force signature. Obi-wan fell back into the chair, not bothering to fight the dunes and valleys of velvet threatening to overtake him, averting his gaze to some preposterously-sized side-table and vase. Hopefully, his failure to provide the correct response would be the end of this increasingly uncomfortable conversation. Qui-gon would assign him some reading and meditation, and let the matter rest until they returned to Coruscant.

But Qui-gon only peered at Obi-wan with a piercing stare, apparently not ready to give up on the exchange.

“You would sacrifice yourself to save the others?”

Obi-wan found himself mirroring his master’s movements.

“Isn’t that what it means to be a Jedi?” he asked, genuinely perplexed. “We are servants of the Republic, of the Force - if our actions can save lives so that Republic may continue in peace - “ Obi-wan’s mouth opened and closed, trying to form the words that would express his devotion to the Order, the Code, his own sense of honor - but found himself gaping like an Ithorian cuttlefish.

Once again, Qui-gon fell into contemplation, back arching against tall, bulbous pillows, brushing his mustache with a single finger. A minute, then two went by, the only sound the clicks of a nearby chrono. Over eighteen feet tall, the clicks sounded more like the steps of a lurking gundark than a timepiece, doing nothing for Obi-wan’s nerves.

Finally, Qui-gon broke the uncomfortable semi-silence. “Don’t be so hasty to throw away your own life, Padawan. As you rightly said, the death of a monarch may cause the deaths of many others down the road. But you cannot know how many lives would remain unsaved if you were to treat your own so lightly.”

Obi-wan’s eyebrows rose. That had not been the reaction he was expecting.

“But how am I to know when that sacrifice is necessary?” he asked automatically. Obi-wan would make that sacrifice gladly, although...to be perfectly honest, he would prefer not to die as a seventeen-year-old Padawan. 

“The better question is how you can work to reach a more productive option rather than coming to such a dire conclusion.” Qui-gon’s voice softened. “I am serious, Obi-wan. You have much to offer the galaxy. Don’t let your strict adherence to Jedi ideals extinguish your star too early. Not only would the Republic be at a loss, but…” Qui-gon looked away, staring down at some invisible pattern in the corner of the room. “I would, as well.”

Obi-wan’s mouth dropped open. “Master, I - “

“Ah, Master Jedi!” A new voice squeaked from the gargantuan entranceway. “Thank you so much for waiting,” proclaimed the three-foot Minister of Commerce, Parhary Hatch, bedecked in a long, flowery robe whose velvet train stretched back several feet. “Please, if you would,” he gestured towards the tall archway.

“Yes, of course, Minister Hatch,” Qui-gon replied in his diplomatic voice, jumping neatly off the chair, his landing as elegant as a Coruscanti ice skater.

Obi-wan frowned, joining his Master in a slightly less dignified, but no less effective maneuver. They had been on the verge of…something, some kind of understanding, or at least a truce. Whatever words had remained unsaid between would likely stay so, the moment gone, the trip back to Coruscant, and then to a Hutt outpost taking priority over these types of conversations.

Another time, then, Obi-wan sighed to himself, following the slinking violet trail of the Bartovian minister and his Master into the long corridors of the palace.

[lycanhood]

Thoughts on Motherland: Fort Salem (So Far)

Hey so I know I may be a little behind on this one, but I’ve finally binge-watched Motherland: Fort Salem and I’ve had alot swirling around in my head about it for the last few days. This is a little bit of a review and a little bit of rant, but there will be SPOILERS ahead which I’ll try to mark accordingly. 

I think the concept for this show is so fucking cool. Really and truly, alternate history in which the witches of Salem made a deal with the Massachusetts Bay Colony to form a military and fight the New World’s wars in exchange for mercy from extermination essentially. So they form a Witch Army. And Army of Witches!! That’s fucking cool. It is. Sadly, I think the concept may be entirely too cool for Freeform. 

By that I mean to say that this super cool and entirely edgy idea is just too heady for Freeform to do properly. This idea belongs on HBO or Netflix, because those networks thrive on subject matter like Motherland: Fort Salem. (Sidenote: wtf is it called that? Just name the show ‘Fort Salem’. That kinda tells us everything we need to know about the premise right there in two word. Adding ‘Motherland’ in there just makes it too long and oddly Russian.)

There are just alot of little things about this show that kept it from realizing what I felt could have been some pretty amazing potential. I’ll try to organize those little things as best I can. But the one big problem I had while watching this was that the best thing about this show is it’s alternate history premise isn’t given enough attention.

What I mean is...I’m interested in the show, because I’m interested in what the world (what America) might have looked like if we had a military operated by supernaturally powered women for the past 300+ years. And Fort Salem just doggedly refuses to actually show me that world. The show doesn’t like to explain itself or really explore what it means to be a woman (witch or otherwise) in this alternative America. Most of the show takes place on Fort Salem, a military headquarters of sorts that is mostly strife with political games, attack strategies, training drills, and odd rituals. I have so many questions about this world: Are non-witch women treated differently due to the fact that their country is run and protected by women? There’s a female president in this timeline, so that’s certainly a possibility. If there are male witches as well, why don’t they fight in the same army as the female witches? And since they don’t fight in the main army, what is their mysterious role in this world? We see them making weapons and babies, that’s about it. In 1x5 “Bellweather Season”, the unit goes to a wedding which celebrates a 5 year contract of marriage between the couple. What’s up with that? Why only 5 years? Are they expected to have a child during this time period? if they do have a child are they expected to stay together longer than the 5 years? How many times are the male witches expected to get married? How many children are expected or allowed? Because this show is full of only-children which is statistically different from our own reality. How long are wicthes expected to serve in the military? They’re entire lives? We don’t see any female witches living as civilians at any age (other than Tally’s mother due to tragic circumstances). 

What is the source of the witches powers exactly? They’re abilities are sonic/auditory in nature, usually requiring the use of their vocal cords. Why? How? There are brief moments where it seems like sound is less necessary like when Raelle heals, or when the witches use Linking to connect to one another. There is also the use of herbs/drugs to fly, that doesn’t seem to require sound at all. 

We’re told the female witches get some kind of power-up or energy boost from having sex (or perhaps just feeding off the sexually energy?) with the male witches. Hence, the Beltane orgy ceremony in episode 1x04. What’s up with that? Does this power-boast only come from sex with male witches or would sex with human men do just as well? Would human men have a less potent effect? And is the power-boost depended on heterosexuality? Because throughout Raelle & Scylla’s sexually relationship no such power-up is ever mentioned. 

See so many questions, that the show simply doesn’t feel the need to answer. I understand the desire to avoid bogging down a show with exposition. But their are ways to do exposition right and in interesting ways. Exposition is sometimes necessary, because the more the audience knows about this world, the more rich and detailed, and so close to real is is to them, the more likely they are to be invested in it. 

And make no mistake the world and my curiosity about it is what kept me watching. 

For much of this first season, the characters don’t have any room to become people. I don’t dislike these characters, but they have yet to really bloom into more than archetypes (Abigail: the legacy, the leader, the overachiever. Tally: the innocent, the hopeful, the lynchpin. And Raelle: the rebel, the cynic, the shitbird)

Alot of time in the early episodes were spent following the same formulate. Raelle runs off, ditching training to go wander around and finds Scylla. Abigail and Tally follow after her, because they need her to do well in training because they pass or fail as a unit. I can not even tell you how many times Raelle causally ditches training, gets caught, gets told how much trouble she’s in, and then doesn’t actually face any consequences at all. She has to do guard duty overnight once. And that was just for being late, not even all the times she leaves in the middle or doesn’t show up for training at all!

I just wish this show focused on different beats in the pulse of this story, and made more of an effort explore this world and these characters through the lens of 3 young women who have just been essentially drafted into the military. Instead of skipping all that training I wish I could have seen so much more of it! That would have been a fantastic way to explain this world’s magic system to the audience! It’s built-in easy action-paced exposition right there! That the show just has no interest in. 

And at last, I’ll talk about the show’s main romantic pair, Raelle x Scylla. Sigh. I’m not hardcore against this pairing. I’m really not. But I am frustrated with the way the writers chose to unfold their relationship. We find out early on that Scylla is an agent of the Spree (big bad witchy terrorists), and I hate that. Because then they try to make me ship Raelle x Scylla even though I already know that shit is going to end in pain and betrayal. I cam’t ship something that I already know is built on lies, dude. I just can’t. That could have been a big awesome emotionally reveal in the later half of the season, instead of the dreadful thing I was anticipating from basically the very beginning. I’m as big a fan of enemies-to-lovers as anyone, but not like this. It’s more fun when both parties know they’re enemies, you know what I mean?

Anyway, I know it’s easy to point at the writers/devlopers and say “Man, I would have done this so differently...” but in Fort Salem’s case it’s my biggest take away.

Even from the very first opening scene, where the Spree (Scylla herself) commits a frightening and ruthless act of terrorism at the mall. Okay, big bad introduction for the Spree there. But how about introducing the audience to the world of this alternate history first? Use that awesome premise. Do a cold open, Salem, Mass 1692 Sarah Adler is about to be hanged as a witch until she opens her mouth and changes the world forever. Show me that. Set the stage of history. The villains could have come later. They always do.

All in all, I don’t hate this show ( I know this may have turned out more rant than review, but...) I was just really disappointed by the execution of a premise I felt had great potential. But, it’s not necesarily too late. Season two can still course correct and pull us into this world outside the fort’s walls, and manage to bring the characters into their own as they find their way back to one another. I’ll keep watching, because if this show did anything for me, it made me curious.