#(''everything'' means things i genuinely could not do by myself. things that were explicitly a group effort)

[scorndotexe]

genuinely sorry about all the dndposting recently it hasn't even been interesting but i'm so desperate to dm. i've got storytelling skills!!! i've got improv skills!!! i want to build a story around characters!!! i want to see what players do with what i give them!!!

[thetinygnome]

To preface, this is post is inspired by my experience watching arcane s2. I both enjoyed and disliked a lot about it, but this is not intended to be an analysis or review and will only contain the absolute vaugest of spoilers.

'That was not the story I wanted it to be' and 'That was not the story i thought it was going to be' are fair but subjective statements, and at the end of the day the story wasn't made with the goal of pleasing my specific tastes.

I generally agree with this sentiment, but something about it bugs me. Surely these expectations don't exist in a vaccum. They come from the primordial soup of me, the media in question, and everything I've ever heard about said media in question. Half the art of storytelling is manipulating, guiding, and playing with what your audience expects. So while the problem may well lie in my own tastes and biases, it could also just be a symptom of genuine lacking in or around the story.

I tried making some checklists to identify what was bugging me about it. (Bit of a longass ramble incoming)

Things outside the text itself that may have affected my expectations of the story:

If this work is in direct conversation with other media eg adaptations, continuations, sequels, prequels, same cinematic universe etc. Especially if I am very familiar with said media. Does it state its relationship to these media properties accurately?

The way the story marketed itself. Are the trailers and blurbs accurate to the tone, themes and genre of the show itself? Does it feel like its striving to be high art or something to watch over dinner?

Related to this is fandom and internet reputation of the story. Are the topics of conversation pushed to the forefront online reflective of their prominence in the story itself?

Do I have a bias regarding the persons or companies creating or distributing this work?

Do I have or lack life experiences that would make the story ressonate more / am I the target audience?

How familiar am I with the tropes and conventions of the relevant medium and genre?

Did I miss key details of storytelling due to outside factors (talking, noise, distraction, zoning out etc)

Things within the text that may have affected expectations:

Foreshadowing. Were things seemingly forshadowed only to not be followed up on? Did huge changes come seemingly out of nowhere? Is it artfully subtle or underwritten?

Exposition. Are they actually telling me (explicitly or otherwise) what I need to know in order to understand what is going on?

Consistency. Particularly with character writing. Are motivations, relationships, personality, morals etc established firmly? If so, than are changes and challenges to these given the time and reasoning required to be convincing?

Pacing. Were we given enough time to take stuff in before moving on? Was a lot of time spent on details and plotlines that ultimately ended up irrelevant while key parts of settup where restricted to a single blink-and-youll-miss-it moment? Do I find myself going "well I mean I don't exactly dissagree that we could end up here but I feel we missed a few steps along the way"?

Themes and genre. Does it follow through with and/or intentionally subvert tropes of the stories it is similar to? Does it have multiple themes and are they of equal importance? Do the pacing and foreshadowing correspondingly reflect that?

Clarity. Related to many of the above, but how many plates are spinning at once, and how many of them are we supossed to care about? On a less abstract level, can I see/hear/read what I need to in order to understand what is going on. In film ig it would be camera angles/lighting/blocking/sound design etc. Definitely elements of skill issue here but worth noting.

Im sure theres many more but

Sigh

Ig I gotta rewatch arcane to see how much of it was a skill issue on my end. Maybe this is the death of media literacy and my brainrotted ass needing to be spoonfed. Or maybe it was actually rushed, dropped key plotlines from the first season, and fastfowarded through character arcs at light speed.

[luminouslollies]

I'm beginning to think that the two CatCF books take place in different timelines.

I explain: in 'The Great Glass Elevator', they explicitly say the year is 1972, in chapter 18, to be precise. It doesn't say what year we're in in the first book, I know. I didn't end up understanding the pre-decimal monetary system after all, and perhaps there is a fact in the price of the chocolate bars that I missed when I read the book in English. I could try get an idea based on the day. The first day of February, in 1964, fell on a Saturday, and in 1972 it fell on a Tuesday. It makes more sense to me that the tour would have been on a weekend, but that contest was so absurdly important that they obviously would have declared a school holiday for that day. Or a few extra if the winners had to travel.

In which case, if the year doesn't bear out, the age of Charlie's grandparents does. In the first book, we are told at the beginning of the second chapter "Every one of these old people was over ninety." But in the second, only Grandpa Joe seems to retain his 96 and a half years. Josephine is 80 years and three months old (and I expect they were already somewhat older when they married); George was exactly 81; and Georgina has 78.

Which makes me seriously wonder, did Dahl just have to change it in pursuit of arithmetic operations, or did he really forget that hole? Why wasn't that fact edited out of the first book? Dahl lived almost 20 more years after publishing CatGGE, after all.

As far as my opinion of the book is concerned…. I still haven't read the second half (everything that happens after they return to the Factory). I just gave it a too-quick read looking for some wild candy that happened to sneak in. Honestly, I got the feeling that all those BORING scenes with the president's cabinet are only a nuisance and, despite the fact that I'm not the most empathetic person in the world (unfortunately), I did find the stereotype jokes pretty gross. But I do at least want to give a point to Gilligrass's flytrap. I'd like one myself. I think Dahl was trying to stretch the book at all costs, and since the filler with the president wasn't going to be enough to get very far beyond 100 printed pages, that's why the Wonka-Vite thing comes up. I read a few bits of the Minusland chapter and would have thought I was reading another Charlie book if not for the narrative style.

However, it's a pretty entertaining read otherwise and I genuinely felt excited getting to the Knids chain part - it's the glory picking an epic movie soundtrack and reading this part for the first time! It's just that the atmosphere is weird. It's not bad; I love horror and the Knids in the elevators are very creepy (in a good way). Rather, I mean all the characters (with the exception of Charlie, his parents, Grandpa Joe and Willy Wonka) feel apathetic and unpleasant. I can understand the grandparents, I don't deny it: I too would find it too hard not to panic if I were being chased by an army of genocidal aliens, but there were certain moments (not to say all of their scenes in space) where they only intervened in the scene to complain and didn't help. Only Grandma Josephine, when she suggests they come back. In the second half, it seems to me that they are going to serve more as simple comic relief.

[textualviolence]

i also genuinely think miku binder thomas jefferson was not that big a deal and people were going too far & being mean about it.

having watched hamilton myself, its a normal reaction to draw that guy in a miku binder cause the actor literally played thomas jefferson as exactly the kind of guy who would wear a miku binder. Whoever drew that was just understanding him correctly...& the actor wasn't being weird either he was just given a part in some nerd musical & did the best he could to be fun & interesting & charismatic in it and he played a historical figure in a very modern style. And Lmm was just being a cringe theater kid playing with historical figures like dolls & writing himself as a cool misunderstood hot guy who fucks. He didn't even not address slavery the musical is explicitly on the side of "slavery is bad and horrible" he's just a liberal so he did a very unthorough job with it but its also to be expected...this isn't political/historical literacy class its broadway. Everything is used for parts especially bad history. Its not politically good. hamilton's a good piece of art imo but non theater kids should never have gone to see it & the fact that celebrities & politicians were in the audience was the real cringe factor like what are you doing there obama gtfo...the problem is the wider untrained audience getting to look at this embarrassing mess directly and seeing all the ways in which its weird and uncool & politically illiterate, but it was never trying not to be those things...its a musical its got good songs great performances (except for llm who shouldn't have cast himself in the lead, but then again everyone who can both write music and act does that, so its to be expected) its entertaining & funny. as a musical it does what it needs to do but non musical people should stay out of it if they don't want to cringe. sorry this is musical theater you're not gonna feel cool or smart for watching it. but you're not a genius for seeing the ways in which it sucks either, the flaws are right there on the surface & we don't point it out not cause we don't see it but because its not the things that need to be good in order for the work to succeed

[mdhwrites]

So how do you think Sasha became mean, bossy, and controlling in the first place? Considering how The Third Temple clearly shows Sasha used to be a lot nicer when she first met Anne and Marcy and was willing to help them without being a bossy and controlling jerk like she was in the start of the show, what do you think changed that led Sasha from being a sweet nice girl in the flashback to the mean bossy and controlling teen girl in the start?

What about that episode showed she was nicer? Do you mean the portion where she explicitly ignored reality, including herself being injured, so as to keep charging at two people and yell at them until they did what she wanted? She even walks away like "Job's done" as if she were the guardian of the playground rather than just being nice. She acts actively surprised when Marcy and Anne stop her, kind of implying this isn't the first time she's done something like this. It's just the first time someone genuinely rewarded the effort by wanting to be her friend.

It's part of why I say she treated life like a game before Turning Point. That she sees herself as the hero of her story. Of her world. She wanted to be able to boss people around even from a young age (and as someone with a nephew who was very much so obstinate around that same age and struggled to care about people properly, though admittedly due to developmental issues, it's not unreal). Without parents who will have a firm hand in telling her right from wrong, one can easily keep those traits as they grow up. "The Terrible Twos" are a thing after all.

Really, the only difference between The Third Temple's flashback and her present day actions is that Sasha IS in the right like she tells herself she is in Amphibia. She is actively attacking bullies but like... What if the two were a pair of nice kids who made a compelling argument about Anne and Marcy having been on a while? Or were small enough where Sasha could have actually attacked them instead of made a fool out of herself during it? How 'nice' would she have looked then?

But there is still a difference between a kid playing pretend and what she became so if there was really an inciting incident for Sasha becoming crueler or far more controlling than a normal kid might... It might have been when her parents divorced. That's not their fault (besides being wrong about their love) but divorce is ROUGH on a kid no matter what. Kids like their parents. That same nephew still wants a dad. And now she was being told that she was going to have to not always see both her parents and no amount of yelling, screaming or gumption was going to change that.

She now had two single parents. Period. Potentially, parents who then had strange, new people coming in and out of her life as they started dating. That chaos and uncertainty, whether or not this new partner would be the one to stay, can track straight to her ostracizing Anne from her parents, wanting to be the thing that Marcy and Anne rely on the most so they CAN'T leave Sasha. Remember: Of everything Anne does to Sasha, it's arguably the news that BOTH Anne and Marcy are not only doing well but getting along WITHOUT HER that sends her into her greatest rage until Grime loses his arm.

That still doesn't excuse her actions. It just explains where that attitude may have come from. It still doesn't make her parents abusive, just like Marcy's father simply seeking better opportunities for his family didn't. Their reactions to these facts did far more damage than if they'd tried to show understanding to their parents and accept the change that was happening around them.

And none of this is necessary either to appreciating their arcs. I would argue it barely adds anything to them even. It's just fun to theorize, especially if you want to write about their pasts.

And for that: Go wild. I know the feeling and joy myself. I mean, I am one of the only people to ever write kind parents for Amity because I find high society interesting and when I started Power of Love, Escaping Expulsion hadn't happened.

Just make sure that those fan materials don't cause you to start changing the facts of what actually happened.

======+++++======

I have a public Discord for any and all who want to join!

I also have an Amazon page for all of my original works in various forms of character focused romances from cute, teenage romance to erotica series of my past. I have an Ao3 for my fanfiction projects as well if that catches your fancy instead. If you want to hang out with me, I stream from time to time and love to chat with chat.

And finally a Twitter you can follow too!

[ikebanaka]

Just read a fic where the whole hotel gang basically sat around eating popcorn and waiting to watch Alastor and Lucifer to kiss because they were magically trapped under mistletoe, and it made me wish 'bullying' was a widely accepted tag for 'ignoring your friend's discomfort and everything they say in order to make fun of them because you think their discomfort is funny'

Because then I could filter that shit out and not have to walk blindly into fics that trigger me.

And I do genuinely mean trigger; situations like this immediately make me incandescently angry without exception. The very idea that people think making fun of people for being uncomfortable with their boundaries being violated is funny is enough to make me start throwing shit when I'm alone, and remove myself from company immediately when I'm not.

If I were Alastor in this situation? With people that claim to like me watching me be forced to humiliate myself and acting like it's the funniest thing ever, waiting for new expressions of discomfort to make fun of? I would've started by telling Angel that every nasty thing he thought about himself was true, and ended by making sure everyone went to sleep that night feeling sick and hollow inside. I would've told them that for every minute they spent watching me stuck there I would personally remove a tooth from Husk's head with a rusty pair of pliers later that night, and if there weren't enough teeth I'd just start over once they grew back. I'd make sure everyone who thought it was funny never felt good about themselves for more than a minute inside the hotel without me cutting them back down to size.

Some people are okay with being treated like that I guess, I just wish that that didn't come at the expense of convincing people that it's not bullying. Because at no point in this fic was I convinced that it wasn't bullying and that Alastor didn't mind; he very explicitly did mind and was deeply uncomfortable.

Bullying is not actually inherently funny, so if your target isn't laughing too or otherwise playing along, then you're not being funny, you're being a piece of shit. And even if you are being funny... tag it anyways.

[loserelf]

still thinking about the substance nonstop and for spoilers sake ill just readmore it

im not daying anything that hasnt already been said before i think but its something it takes time for you to really recognize bc like....it was a little confusing at first while watching since it doesnt reapoy explicitly say that Elisabeth and Sue share a concience, but I definitely think they did. I think they carry the memory of each others lives in them but its a dreamy, far away thing thats easy for them both to seperate from themselves if that makes sense? Like i think its genuinely a metaphor for substance abuse bc even though when Sue wakes up she acts surprised and disgusted by Elisabeth's nosedive, I think some part of her knows/understands what shes putting Elisabeth through, like from the moment she first wakes up she's anxiously tender to her. She's supposedly this brand new person from our point of view, but she has enough understanding of the situation to take care of her and stitch her back up without having to be told to. She doesnt need to learn how to read or speak or walk. She knows who she is and that is Elisabeth. But subtances that make life liveable without the anxieties that plague you delibitatingly regularly is so addictive that even though you KNOW youre hurting yourself, you KNOW you're stealing time and health away from nobidy but YOU, in the moment you're willing to sacrifice yourself for it. It's worth it. Even as Elisabeth deteriorates faster and faster and she KNOWS its irreversable damage, she still makes the choice to take the risk and continue doing so because being Sue is the exact answer to the experiences she's been chasing since her glory days of being happily exploited by Hollywood bc at least the disgusting people around her adored her. She craves that acceptance more than she loves herself, and to her loving herself means tearing herself apart at ANY cost. And Sue knows that too, but mentally seperates herself from Elisabeth because she IS the manifestation of Elisabeth getting everything that she wants so desperately shes willing to kill herself for it. and sue KNOWS THAT!!! SHE KNOWSSSS THAT and maybe even uses it as an excuse to keep pushing Elisabeth way passed the limit because isn't that exactly what they want???? Even when Elisabeth is lying comatose after a month of overuse Sue still speaks to her and gives excuses like she can hear her because she Is that little voice we have when we're reasoning with our future selves. "Just one more time, just one last drink, we can't stop now, just a little longer". No matter how bad the consequences have gotten, no matter how much pain I've felt or how close to death I've thought I was, I always had an excuse to go back to the bottle during the worst times in my life. Even when I did things that horrified me, made me question my morals, did things that turned me into a monster, that little voice always ends up back in my head because that voice is ME. And I can cry and scream and suffer shame or disgust or self loathing all I want, there was only ever myself to blame but the few hours of relief I would get from my own mind was worth ruining whatever future me would have to deal with, and I knew she would agree. She would hate me, but she would agree. It's all still true even in the end with Monstro, not even bothering to stitch Sue up because she knew her time was limited but she was still chasing that feeling of acceptance and even though she became her own worst nightmare, she still trudged on and tried to damage control what she could and got on that stage because they Had to love her. She Had to get up there. They were going to love her. There was no other option. There was nothing else in the world that mattered but finding that glory again and she destroyed herself to get it, at all costs, no turning back no matter what. And she did. She got that last dazzle, that final moment in the golden light on the symbol of her dreams. It didn't matter that she was dying, the last thing she would ever feel on earth was living in that moment where she was Elisabeth Sparkle, beloved by all. God

[inplodinggofer616]

the big G in the sky knew I'd be much too mighty if I had claws and fangs as a physical motif for my weird obsession with humanity's fancy new-fangled ways to brutally kill each other being very ingrained in my mind as a means to distract myself from my emotions and how it's become a way to express them despite this especially around my friends and of course leaves me wondering about the morality behind an obsession such as this and whether or not this is healthy at all for anyone least of all someone with a history of serious anger problems and a lot of beef with the world at large considering how much I feel as though I have been brainwashed by my parents, teachers and the myth of americana and if this arms obsession is a product of that and maybe that's why I feel like I'm a bad person sometimes but also I don't feel safe doing that because that would be agreeing with my mother who probably thinks that if I don't hold as many of her beliefs and live as close a life to hers as feasible then she won't go to heaven and how I can't complain about anything because she put me in this world and she can take me out which she always said in jest but knowing my anger issues stem from her I worry she could actually be liable to really do that should she find out about this whole shtick and also very frustrated that if she doesn't do that (not attempting murder being much more likely) I will have the perfect opportunity to confront her about things she said and her mother said and her shitass halfassed 'apology(?)' on her behalf but I cant be too mean grandma died very recently and if I press about stuff mumsy dearest herself said she'll just deny it. just be like 'oh I dont remember saying that so everything is better now because your rage is unfounded because your trauma doesnt exist arent you so relieved?' no you fuckass bitch take your own advice that you raised me on and admit to what you did ffs how else do you expect me to forgive you even slightly. oohooh or she'll pull her favorite move, where she mocks my actual genuine emotions because she thinks I'm doing it just to get her to pity me which DEFINITELY HAS NOT RESULTED IN A GREAT DIFFICULTY IN BEING ABLE TO GAUGE MY EMOTIONAL STATE OR EVEN SO MUCH AS WHAT THE HELL IS GOING THROUGH MY OWN GODDAMN HEAD HALF THE FUCKING TIME, BUT IF THAT'S NOT WHAT CAUSED IT OH GOLLY FUCKING GEE HOW IT VEXES ME SO

"hey why don't you like hanging out with us?"

*we're watching a tv show. an older black lady is in the hospital after exuding very serious symptoms and fainting at a farmers market and who I presume is her daughter (I don't watch this show on my own time so idk) is at her bedside and this character is a med student. the emergency room doctor says something about web md to suggest incompetence and petty fretting over nothing when the show had clear scenes and depictions of the aforementioned symptoms of what is later revealed to be a very serious heart condition. the real world problems poc face when it comes to healthcare are explicitly discussed amongst characters in this episode. the need for poc autonomy surrounding their healthcare is also explicitly stated by the daughter of the older black lady with the heart condition (I'm sorry I don't have names here I genuinely cannot remember them at all because I dont really watch this show, the show in question being 9-1-1 I think)*

'no i dont think it was a race thing tho'

*my brothers and I had been discussing the many ways marvel movies had jumped the shark*

'yeah and im also sick of all that woke crap' (she knows I'm bisexual btw just not about being genderfluid yet)

*grandma hadn't died yet (I believe this was in around october(?)) and had gotten talking about book bans and mentioned The 57 Bus, a book about a real agender highschooler who was burnt alive on a public bus for being queer by a guy who was pressured into it*

'oh but they had gay employees and were really nice to them' (at some point my (great?)grandparents owned a country club)

"idk ig I just like screwing around on my phone"

dad's a tesla driver and would prolly lick elon's boots until they were clean enough to double as mirrors and also made me spend more time than is generally considered useful learning vba and microsoft access (not entirely useless skills tbh but not very helpful because who uses either in the year of our lord that will pay me anything worth a fuck in an Economy™ that is so fucked I don't need to elaborate any more on just how fucked it is rn) oh yeah and as is Freedom-Loving American Tradition he spent more of my childhood at work, sometimes in an entirely different country for said job which is why my parents worry about my bond (or lack thereof) with my dad all the time and yet both refuse to acknowledge that having to work in order to be worth being kept alive is what caused this and can you believe that I made the realization about this part specifically because of the phone guy save button Ness/Ninten's dad in the Mother™ Series™? (on a tangentially related note, official english localized Mother 3 when?)

fr when I'm in that house every bone in my body is telling me I shoulda ran when I was like 10 and never looked back and I know people have had worse than this with their parents but this isn't about them and for that I am sorry but I can't speak for them nor do I wish to downplay my problems

[rivetgoth]

Sorry for being a little bitchy but I’m gonna come back to this real quick to say like. I generally consider myself in a place of pretty material privilege most of the time but it’s a bit harrowing to consider that realistically literally every single thing I really care about has either been illegal in my lifetime, is currently illegal now, is still illegal in massive parts of the world, and/or faces massive amounts of systemic backlash and frequent pushes towards criminalization. This is everything from my hobbies to my relationships to my sexuality to my transition to the fact that I am alive and live where I do today on account of my family being war refugees from the Middle East. Sexuality, kink, medically & socially & legally transitioning to male, body modification, drugs, clubbing, nonmonogamy, writing novels with explicit controversial content, being mixed and Arab, so many of my friends being various types of queer, not straight, trans men and women, kinky, polyamorous, nonwhite, drug users, alternative artists, and/or immigrants, living my life for pleasure and for love and for magic…

Again, I don’t say this to suggest that I’m in any frequent or immediate material danger, I’m not. I’m very lucky that I am able to live how I do and be who I am happily and comfortably. But I say this to highlight the fact that as I’ve grown up I feel I’ve only become increasingly thoughtful of the genuine absurd inequities in society and how easy it is to slip into complacency as other people just living their lives are facing incredible subjugation and violence and marginalization just for existing. And I’m not like saying I’m some enlightened individual who is ideologically perfect (of course not), but more that it’s a real exercise in humility to consider how much of who I am and what matters to me is shaped by things that could get me or people like me killed and I really try to be cognizant of that.

And if I’m going to be a little mean I don’t know how many people on this website can say the same… I know there are all the kinda nasty jokes about how nobody on here goes outside or has sex or whatever and I don’t need to take cheap shots but I do think it’s saying the obvious that a lot of the people on this site by their own admission self-identify as like. Introverted individuals who don’t enjoy going out much, who are very nervous or anxious about doing anything wrong or stepping on toes, who are white, who either are not in a relationship or having sex or who are primarily having vanilla sex in monogamous relationships, those doing drugs and those who aren’t white and those who come from poverty and those going out and living explicitly queer or kinky or non normative lifestyles are a minority and I feel that it shows more and more as the user base I’ve been apart of for a decade+ age and settle into whatever path adulthood has in store for them. I actually specifically have been kind of in shock recently at the amount of generational wealth the user base of this website collectively seems to have—That poll where like 70% of respondents said their parents paid their college tuition. Or the one that asked how much people’s parents made and the winning results were 6 digits. or one I just saw where 90% (!!!!!) of respondents said they didn’t live in a neighborhood with any gang activity.

I kinda feel that for a lot of people, as teenagers they liked the aesthetics of revolution because it made them *feel* radical which was kind of just code for feeling like they were sticking it to their conservative parents. To be mean it made them feel like Hunger Games protagonists or something you know. And to be fair! These were people who were outcasts, they were weird introverts who probably were bullied or excluded at school, they felt powerless and angry, and LBR, just being a teenager sucks and denies you incredible amounts of freedom that adults are afforded so of course this image of rebellion is appealing. But I think a lot of these same people didn’t bring that energy into adulthood in earnest because it wasn’t a super earnest activity to begin with. It was like, online thought experiment, but as is the case with many teenage dreams it wasn’t really grounded in a material reality or ideology. And they still SEE themselves as rebellious revolutionaries because they’ve held onto the aesthetics of their youth; most of them aren’t explicitly becoming conservative. But it’s still just aesthetics. “How can I be conservative?” they ask, “I use they/them pronouns! I believe in equality! I believe oppression is wrong! I hate conservatives! I’m a tumblr user!”

“…But kids these days and the things they like are just more annoying then I ever was. But I keep accidentally reblogging from fascists, conservative religious fundamentalists, and TERFs. But when I walk down the street I am scared of strangers who look different than me. But I do have a gut reaction if someone tells me they have a lifestyle that isn’t the same as my own. But I do feel like there’s value in tradition and that modernity is less pure. But I do feel uncomfortable when I see a black person get angry. When I see a trans woman get mean. When I see a Palestinian person ask for money. When I see someone on drugs-” And it just goes unchecked and keeps getting worse. Idk.

I think it’s a more societal thing and this is just one microcosm but I do think the userbase of this site really has broadly become increasingly reactionary and socially conservative in its school of thought over the last ~4 years and it’s pretty bizarre to see. Especially because I’m not talking about there being some influx of new politically conservative users who migrated from 4chan or something, I mean the same cannibal horror sex fag punk blood crowd who have been populating this site are adopting unchecked reactionary tendencies as they age and now posts about like basic feminist theory can’t be made without a bunch of devils advocates in the comments who would’ve been right at home in like, the 2011 version of the internet where just the word “feminist” itself was a widely accepted insult. It’s really wild to see honestly. I do think some people have grown out of their teenage radicalism and now that they’ve settled into comfortable adulthood are no longer interested in disturbing (or really even, questioning) the status quo.

[satans-codpiece]

Okay so I proved myself wrong, about me saying I'm dropping everything I'm doing to read your stuff. I found out about Eleven Years Chpt. 5 in the morning and had to go to work RIP. Needless to say I was very distracted and as soon as I got home I got ON IT-

Bit of a shame for my wireplay obsessed ass you didn't go a bit harder on that but GOd it was still hell of a ride. Reader getting handsy after the fucking and Ram not handling it well™ was.... oooooof. I'm so normal-

I guess since I got on the EY hype train, mind if I just, go nuts a little more??? I could be biased here cuz Ramram, but HOW did you actually, genuinely make me feel sad for the captor in a Stockholm syndrome scenario????? HELLO???? What wizardry did you pull to do that??????? Like yeah Ram kidnapped reader and is lowkey torturing them without fully realizing it, but he's so awfully genuine with everything else????????????

And just. Okay slightly late to the party but in chpt. 4, the conversation about Ram being afraid of touch both to not accidentally harm reader AND the reputation of his model is just....... When I read that, my reaction could only be described as going absolutely fucking feral. Bro do not EVER worry about characterization again because jeSUS CHRIST-

I actually ended up showing that set of paragraphs to a friend that isn't in this fandom much (likes a different hero a whole lot and is loosely aware of everyone else, kind of like me actually lol) aaaaand their reaction was pretty much the same as mine-

And to not ignore what you replied with my last anon ask bc lordy I'd feel bad: ... I mean.... if you wanna build up to a big piv scene.... *glosses over your WIP list* I can see Hanakaki going there pretty easily, without all the painful emotional mindfuckery that comes with kidnapping...

LMAO I feel like Blizz employees (the creative art-related team, to be more accurate) are not really allowed to interact with fandom so their ideas don't get influenced by fanon and therefore the company does not get accused of stealing ideas or whatever. BUT, here's a funny idea... since these people write fanfiction that is actually canon... Can you imagine someone writing out their dirtiest fantasies and said writing having to be actually archived at Blizz because intellectual property LOOOOOL-

soBBING THAN K YOU this was such a delight to open my inbox to!!!

hehehe for what it's worth, if I do end up writing the prequel there will be a bigger focus on wireplay (given that it's before he's made any modifications to himself) :3c

but ah I'm so glad you sympathized with Ramattra because that's exactly what I wanted!! He's done something awful- is doing something awful- but he's doing it because he loves you so much. Everything he's done, he's done because he's had a hard life and you were one of so few good things he's had. I really wanted the reader (ie the real people not the stand in character) to have... complicated feelings about this version of Ramattra.

and ;_; thank you... being OOC is truly just my nightmare of writing, I need my blorbos to be perfectly canon-aligned (or explicitly AU'd) or I'll die.

but in particular fjdshg yes! When Ramattra was actually striving for peace, he had to work against such heavy biases against him simply because of his model (both the vendor in Nepal and Nameless make comments on him being an r-7000 as soon as he meets them), so he must be acutely aware that he is treated differently than other omnics.

HAHAHA it's SO funny of all my WIPs you mention hanahaki... because 1) Hanahaki is actually like 4 paragraphs from being done and 2) there isn't a shred of nsfw in it! I wrote it just to write some angsty pre-relationship stuff, but ultimately just is emotional porn, nothing physical.

Ah that's probably to some degree true! I'd love to see someone working w Blizz just. sit on all their nsfw fics and works until they quit and be like. 'haha yeah i JUST made all these. definitely not under contract w Blizz dont worry about it :>' [piles of concept Ramattra porn fall out of their jacket]

[casspurrjoybell-29]

Enduring Ties - Chapter 7 - Part 2

*Warning Adult Content*

"When I call you my love, my world, my treasure, do you think I'm just being theatrical? Do you think I don't mean that?"

Cailan stayed silent. No answer felt like the right one.

"Sex can be very nice but it's not everything, Cailan. Not by a long shot. Do you really think a little fun with an acquaintance is worth more than the years we've spent together? More than the strength and the love and the support you've given me? I'll tell you, Cailan, it doesn't come close and that's why I had set my attraction towards you aside. I intend for us to be together our whole lives. If I make a mistake that tarnishes our bond, I have to live with that. We both do."

"I think... I think it's hard for me to believe how much you genuinely care for me. Not because you don't do a good job of showing it but because it's not something that's supposed to happen. It's not unusual for a master to feel affection for his Companion but it lacks the depth and endurance of a romance between two humans. It's a temporary substitute while a human seeks a long term relationship or a supplement to an unsatisfying marriage."

Liam rolled onto his side, facing Cailan and wrapped an arm around his waist.

He didn't pull him any closer but he knew that Cailan found the touching reassuring, grounding.

"I don't blame you for being confused, Cailan. I still haven't sorted all of this out in my own mind. I try to simplify things for myself by telling myself that you're my slave and I can have whatever sort of relationship with you I like but that misses the point. What we're doing, and what I strive for, is outside the bounds of a typical relationship between master and slave."

"I hope you'll forgive me for sometimes being slow to catch up, even when you're quite clear about what you want from me. I was very well prepared for a typical relationship and though I appreciate what you've given me instead it does confuse me at times."

"I know, love. Don't fret about it. Your greatest downfall is how hard you try to be good and how could I be cross about that?"

"It helps when you redefine what it means to be good for me. Even when it's to express my own feelings and make sure my needs are met. I feel guilty about doing it for myself but when you give me firm instructions, make it an order, it's so much easier."

Liam smiled and pressed a kiss against Cailan's forehead.

"That's why I do it. I found that being too gentle and permissive with you made you anxious. You need guidance."

Cailan nodded.

"I will admit that I am happy to provide it. With the kinds of friends I make they sometimes assume, when they find out my father gave you to me without so much as asking first, that I would not choose to be your master. That, were there some other way you could be safe and happy, I would choose that instead. That is not the case. What I have with you is exactly what I want."

"I know," Cailan whispered.

Liam had told him this before.

He seemed to feel it was a morally questionable position but it always brought Cailan comfort to hear it was still the case.

He belonged to Liam and wouldn't want things any other way.

Of course he wanted Liam to want to be his master.

"Ours is different from a typical relationship between master and slave in many ways but there is one difference that is particularly important. This has always been true but if we're to be getting into areas of physical intimacy I feel I ought to explicitly state it. Are you listening carefully?"

Cailan nodded.

"Always."

"If you give me a clear, firm no to anything, ever, even to the most reasonable of requests, I will respect it. If you need something between us to change in order for you to be happy, even if it's well outside of what you've been taught to expect as a slave, I will do it. I will do anything. I know none of that will come naturally to you but I need you to understand that you are what is most important to me. Please do not ever let me make you unhappy."

Cailan wrapped his arms around Liam and clung to him.

His throat felt tight and his body was trembling.

Liam stroked soothing lines up and down Cailan's back.

"What are you feeling, sweetheart?"

"Loved," Cailan said. "But... vulnerable, too. The idea of doing what you suggested scares me. It feels like something I shouldn't do. But... but knowing that you would do that for me..."

"I would," Liam murmured into Cailan's hair.

Cailan pulled away just far enough that he could look Liam in the eye.

"I'm sorry I doubted your devotion. You've given me no reason to. You've given me everything."

"No, Cailan, you explained yourself well. I gave you a very good reason to. I told you I intended to have sex with you when you were grown and then I never did and I gave you no reason why. I understand."

"So... so can we..."

"When you think about these things, are you thinking about how you want to be a good boy and serve your master or are these thoughts that turn you on?"

Cailan bit at his lip.

His natural instinct was to insist, even to himself, that all he wanted was to serve.

But the dreams... the dreams had not been about serving Liam, at least not primarily.

Of course they were framed from a position of Liam wanting something from him but if he were honest the true fantasy was that Liam would want to give him what he wanted.

"I think it's difficult for me to see my sexuality as something that's entirely my own. There are things I want you to want from me and to want to do to me, if that makes any sense."

"No, we've been through this with other things. I understand. You have a hard time enjoying things just for yourself. I don't think that's entirely incompatible with healthy sex. It should be mutually enjoyed. But, Cailan, that goes both ways. You understand how much it would upset me if you hid your feelings and let me do something you didn't want, don't you?"

Cailan nodded.

"Of course. I do understand why you would think I might do that. Sometimes I still struggle to remember that what you want from me isn't necessarily what I've been trained to expect a master to want from me. When it comes to specific, concrete things it's easy enough but more general concepts like prioritising my own wellbeing are more challenging."

Liam gave him a gentle smile.

"I know, sweetheart and I won't rely solely on you to keep it in check. It's my responsibility in this to make sure at all times that you are okay and to do nothing that may hurt you if I can't be sure of that. But I do believe we are ready for this next stage in our relationship. Not just that you're old enough for it but that I have the maturity to handle this properly and that we understand one another well enough to make this something positive."

Cailan smiled and wet his lips.

"So... so are we going to..."

"No yet. Not here in this tent where we might be interrupted or overheard or rushed."

Liam leant forward and pressed their lips together, just for a moment.

"But soon."

[shippingdragons]

Know no shame: queerness in the golden age of TV and piracy

Both Our Flag Means Death and Black Sails go all in on queer pirates — eventually

By Samantha Greer Jun 2, 2022

Our Flag Means Death has become a bit of a sensation, to put it mildly. The show skyrocketed in popularity for weeks after its debut, both in terms of streaming metrics and the outpouring of fan art. That’s in no small part thanks to its centering a romance between two men, Stede Bonnet and Edward “Blackbeard” Teach, which captured the hearts of many, especially among queer viewers starved of on-screen representation. Even as queer representation has improved over the decades, with several ongoing shows featuring queer characters and subplots, it’s still rare for a series to focus squarely on queer romance, especially in genre shows.

Perhaps some of the infatuation stems from how Our Flag Means Death marketed its romance story — namely, it didn’t. Those initial trailers, teasers, and handful of episodes focused on the comedy hijinks of Stede Bonnet and his inept band of pirates. Not so much as a longing glance between Stede and Ed. For an audience more often used to queerbaiting or sometimes no inclusion at all, the shock that this show really was going to commit to that romance seems to have come with much elation, not to mention a viewership which tripled somewhere between its debut and its finale. Even creator David Jenkins has commented on the matter; speaking to The Verge, he said, “I think I didn’t realize — because I see myself represented on camera, and I see myself falling in love in stories — I didn’t realize how deep the queer baiting thing goes. Being made to feel stupid by stories, I guess. […] [L]ooking at how people were kind of afraid to let themselves believe that we were doing that was a surprise to me, and it’s heartbreaking.”

Oddly enough, though, this isn’t the first time a queer pirate show has buried the lede. Though the shows don’t share channels, decades, or even sensibilities, the way they slowly revealed the queerness of their protagonists reveals how both of these shows reflect the different climates in which they were released.

Image: Starz

Black Sails, which premiered back in 2014, is a series that acts as both a prequel to the classic pirate novel Treasure Island and a mishmash of real history. Long John Silver brushes shoulders with real pirates like Charles Vane and Anne Bonny. In spite of any misgivings you might have about its gritty Treasure Island take, it’s a genuinely thoughtful exploration of history and fiction. To be sure, it has its fair share of bloody violence and sex; it was seen as Game of Thrones on the high seas among critics. What it absolutely does not do upfront is let the audience know that one of its central characters (arguably the story’s primary protagonist), Captain Flint, is in fact a gay man, and that his oppression and persecution under British society is the root of his entire violent quest.

In Black Sails this twist serves a purpose, held back until halfway through the second season. Flint, initially an enigma to audiences and his crew alike, is a larger-than-life character — an inscrutable, cunning, and ruthless pirate, much like the character first referenced in Treasure Island. He is allowed to embody a hypermasculinity, the archetypal bloodthirsty captain who will do anything for gold. The reveal that he’s gay and that his mission is to rebel against the British Empire, to create a nation free of its rule, complicates everything he has done and will do, turning him from a mercenary into a revolutionary.

The fact that Black Sails and Our Flag both smuggled queerness into their narratives is made all the more interesting when considering the real-life parallels of the characters. Both shows play with our conceptions of history and well-known figures. Stede Bonnet and Blackbeard really did hang out, and the show simply makes a leap as to why that could be; Jenkins has explicitly said he’s interested in treating recorded history as merely a jumping-off point. After all, it’s unclear how much he’s even reading into their relationship. To this day, there’s a lot of debate about how much queerness has been exorcised from records and accounts, either by omission or by individuals’ own necessary discretion.

Retelling well-known histories as queer tales is more about putting back into our past what has been erased from it. As Black Sails co-creator Jon Steinberg said to Den of Geek regarding the show’s historical figures, “There’s some freedom in the moment you realize that the historic record is severely compromised in terms of what these peoples’ lives were like. They had a motive to lie, and so did the people in London. [...] It gives us the room to try to tell a story that will hopefully feel real. It probably won’t necessarily match up to the textbook to what happened, but I think we would probably argue that the textbook is already a narrative that somebody with an agenda put together a long, long time ago.”

Image: Starz

Photo: Aaron Epstein/HBO Max

Not that it’s hard to read queerness into existing histories, even if the terminology and conception of the ideas differed at the time. Romanticized pirates have always been portrayed as camp, an image perhaps spurred on by historical figures like Jack Rackham, nicknamed Calico Jack on account of his colorful outfits (who also makes an appearance in OFMD). Mary Read spent a portion of their life under the name Mark Read, and whether it was simply a disguise or fluid gender expression or if they were even trans, it lends itself to storylines like that of Jim on Our Flag Means Death. Accounts of Blackbeard spending all of his time with Stede Bonnet can so easily be understood through a queer lens that it’s shocking no story put such a twist on these figures before Our Flag Means Death.

But the answer to why no one had might be captured somewhat in the response to Black Sails’ own voyage into queer storytelling.

To be fair, Black Sails does have queer characters from the outset — two women, Eleanor and Max — but the first season generally presents them under a leering male gaze, seemingly intended to titillate general audiences. The show’s interest in the revolutionary qualities of queerness didn’t take center stage until its second season. While it spawned a fervent following among some queer fans, it equally drew the ire of homophobes who felt betrayed by the reveal that half of the cast was queer. Reddit is littered with rants against the show’s “gay agenda” by lads who thought they were getting a show “just about pirates,” all part of an outcry that even got Flint’s actor, Toby Stephens, to comment. “Before the revelation I had this huge following from guys, but as soon as that happened it was like they had been betrayed. It was the sense of utter betrayal and I wasn’t surprised because I knew it was going to be a massive thing.” The degree of discomfort among men, that simply by being gay Flint no longer adhered to their rigid standard of a male icon, is hardly something that’s gone away.

In the present, though, the TV landscape has changed considerably since Black Sails aired. Streaming services have come to rule the roost and fracture the monoculture, and the pandemic has only further shaped that. Black Sails had to compete against The Wire, The Sopranos, and Game of Thrones to earn its place at the table. For Our Flag Means Death, which is much more a comedy than a drama (and not at all an epic genre TV series, though there are still plenty of old-fashioned stabbings), things are a little different.

Photo: Aaron Epstein/HBO Max

While the special effects (the revolutionary StageCraft developed for The Mandalorian) that allow Our Flag Means Death to seem like it’s taking place at sea would have been reserved for much higher-budget shows only a few years ago, they’re a flourish for a series that largely takes place on small sets. It could’ve been a tiny budget sitcom a decade ago. That smaller scale may be what allowed it to take risks that, sadly, still feel daring in 2022. It’s not just a romance between Stede and Edward but an entire cast full of queer characters — a queerness that in its own context largely feels unremarkable, with the crew quietly tolerant and respectful of each other throughout the series.

In the last few years things have moved along, but even still, both shows had to operate under the very conditions of which they’re critical. As America and the U.K. both ramp up in homophobia and transphobia, with legislation seeking to target those vulnerable groups, the stories of Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death don’t feel like purely historical stories. They’re tales of the here and now. Pirates are a way to recontextualize those who society “others,” who are made outcasts and fringe by the mainstream. The shows invite us to ask why someone would choose to live on the edge, to unpack their histories and motives until their popular image is vanquished. To take the most well-known of pirates and to reframe them as traumatized queer outcasts is not intended as a historical rewrite but as a rebuttal of the very idea of a history written by the conquerors.

The British Empire present in both stories is depicted as an entity that is, at its worst, all-consuming barbarism and, at its best, all-consuming barbarism propped up by a veneer of civility. It’s an entity that not only destroys but warps reality around itself, reshaping history in its likeness.

In our present, queer people are once again being miscast as villains and boogeymen. In a way, Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death always dance on the edge of tragedy. Either they meet the same ends as their historical counterparts or we see the bittersweet truth of stories that are written out of history, their actions twisted into something evil. By giving that other perspective, by suggesting another account, these shows are a rallying cry for queer folk looking for their place in a world that doesn’t want them to exist at all — and a reminder to everyone who stands against us which side of history they’re on.

Article source: Polygon

[impostoradult]

I finally figured out why it feels like Supernatural murdered a unicorn (AKA why you need to STOP telling me to watch Black Sails)

I’ll start by saying, everything everyone else has been saying CERTAINLY bothers me: 

- the queer-baiting - the bury your queers - the undermining of Dean’s character arc  - the wasted opportunity for a certain kind of overall narrative closure - the flat out disrespect to Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles

 All of that bothers me tremendously. 

But there has been something else rather ineffable about this that has left a horrible taste in my mouth that I couldn’t quite pin down until last night. Bear with me, if you will, because this will require some set-up. 

*** This is not the first show to ever disappoint me in a spectacular fashion, nor will it be the last, I suspect. And one of the ways I’ve always coped with that disappointment was to remind myself that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right. (”It” being any number of things from just pure narrative emotional coherence to not burying your queers to not stringing along your queer audience and then yelling fuck you to them on the way out) 

But somehow that assurance -- that there will be other stories, other characters, other chances to get it right -- has rung particularly hollow in this instance, and I couldn’t quite put my finger on why until yesterday. 

I kept asking myself, why do I still have this feeling, deep in the pit of my stomach, like something was lost here that can never be recovered? 

Because something was lost here that I am doubtful can ever be recovered, and I don’t think I’ve seen anyone else talking about this aspect of it at all. 

***

A few months ago, TV critic Maureen Ryan did a great interview piece with Mike Schur (of Parks & Rec/The Good Place) discussing the death of long-form TV in the streaming era. They explore how the longer seasons and longer runs of traditional broadcast/cable TV provided an opportunity to tell particular kinds of stories that you simply can’t when seasons are 8-10 episodes and series typically run 2-4 seasons (thanks Netflix).

One key thing we’ve all lost in this new era of highly condensed TV storytelling (and of prestige TV narrative styles)? The traditional (several season’s long) slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance. Not only is there simply no longer the time or space to write such romances, it has also come to be seen as hacky, manipulative, cheap, artistically impoverished, low-brow, a embarrassing vestige of the era before TV became art™. 

Everybody is trying to be Fleabag now. No one wants to be Frasier. (”It’s really more like a 10 hour movie” they all like to brag)

Obviously TV still has romances, even ‘drawn out’ romances. But ‘drawn out’ in 2020 is like 2-3 seasons, maybe. More commonly it’s like half a season. Take Schitt’s Creek. The number of episodes between when David and Patrick first meet and when they first kiss? Seven. Seven episodes. Half a season. If you watched it live, it took less than 2 months for them to move from introducing that dynamic to consummating it. And I’m not bagging on Schitt’s Creek; I think the David/Patrick’s story is very lovely and well-written. 

But Niles & Daphne (Fraiser) had to wait 7 years and over 150 episodes before they finally got there. Josh & Donna (The West Wing) had to wait 6+ years, and 145 episodes. Mulder & Scully (The X-Files) had to wait 7 seasons and 143 episodes. Booth & Bones had to wait...you see where I am going with this. 

And my point is (and I can’t believe I never realized this explicitly until now): there has NEVER been a queer slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance of that type on TV ever. EVER. 

I’m going to say that again, because I think it bares repeating:

There has never been a queer, slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance that fits the 100-150 episode paradigm of delayed gratification on TV. 

Not ever.  

I can’t think of ONE example  Not a single, solitary one. And I know queer TV pretty well. Arguably the closest we’ve ever come is Legend of Korra, and that ran 50 episodes, a THIRD of the length of old school will-they-won’t-theys like Booth & Bones or Josh & Donna. 

Queer people have had a fair number of canonical romances on TV by now, even fairly long running ones. But we never got a primary/front-and-center romance that you had to root for for 100+ episodes before you got any kind of canonical consummation.

That is a particular kind of TV experience that queer people and queer characters were just 100% shut out of until it was too late. And because of how the TV landscape has changed in the last 10 years, I don’t know that that opportunity will ever come back around in our lifetimes. 

***

Dean and Castiel are/were a legacy of an earlier era of TV, an era that still contained the possibility for a will-they-won’t-they of that particular mold. There were other shows that could have also filled this gap at one time - Rizzoli & Isles, OUAT, House MD, etc. But one by one all of them were killed off, their queer romances unrequited, until Supernatural was the only one of its’ generation left standing. 

And they should have acknowledged that they were a species about to become extinct. 

There are plenty of other valid and compelling reasons Supernatural should have gone full Destiel, don’t get me wrong.

A) It would have been the most emotionally satisfying ending to the series and to those characters (and that would have been reason enough). 

B) It would have stopped the manipulative queer-baiting of the (disproportionately queer) fanbase (and that would have been reason enough). 

C) It would have been queer representation of middle-aged men, of bi men, of queers who came to their queerness later in life (and any/all of those would have been reason enough). 

D) It could have been a glorious subversion of the bury your queers trope, considering how often they’ve died and been resurrected (and that would have been reason enough). 

But point E) on this list is the reason this one hurts in a singular way that no one even appears to be acknowledging. 

Almost all of the other wrongs and missed opportunities contained in this Supernatural debacle have the possibility of being rectified (at least to a degree) elsewhere. I can and I likely will get more bi male characters from TV as time goes on. I can and likely will get more middle-aged queer characters. I can and likely will get more queer characters coming to their queerness later in life, and starting queer romances later in life. I can and likely will get more queer characters who aren’t killed cheaply and prematurely. I can and likely will get more genre TV shows with sprawling myth arc plots that are resolved in a coherent, satisfying way. I can and likely will get Misha Collins and Jensen Ackles involved in other projects that value their work and their talents. 

All of those other things are at the very least POSSIBLE, and many are even likely. 

But a queer 100-150 episode slow-burn romance a la Mulder & Scully or Niles & Daphne or Booth & Bones? That is the one baton Supernatural dropped spectacularly that no one else even has the possibility of picking up again for the foreseeable future. (They don’t even write those types of romances for heterosexuals anymore!) 

Seriously. It was a TV unicorn. And rather than letting it run wild and free, they stabbed it with a rusty nail. 

***

Given the monumental shifts in the TV landscape that have occurred in the last decade, I don’t know that TV will ever go back to the slow-burn/will-they-won’t-they romance spanning 100-150 episodes. Today it is a miracle if you can get ANY show to last longer than 50 episodes in the first place. 

And that is the piece of this that makes it feel (to me) like they murdered a unicorn.  

Because queer people have gotten a lot of things from TV, and they will get a lot more as time goes on. But that one? That one could very well be a totally extinct species.

That is the larger missed opportunity here that has left this feeling especially hollow and destructive. That is the thing that makes me balk when people tell me to go watch Black Sails or Pose or whatever other prestige TV show is doing this representation ‘better.’ Because that’s not really the loss I am mourning here. I KNOW there is ‘better’ representation elsewhere.  

But the will-they-won’t-they/slow-burn romance is a qualitatively unique thing that queer people literally just never got. Ever. There is no substitute, no alternate, no other show I can turn to with that kind of build-up and pay-off for a queer couple, and there probably won’t be in my lifetime. Not unless the TV industry undergoes another monumental evolution similar to the streaming revolution that shifts the incentives back to telling those types of stories again. 

All those shows you want me to displace Supernatural with? None of them can give me the one thing I uniquely wanted (and could have gotten) from Supernatural. THAT ALTERNATE SHOW DOESN’T EXIST. It doesn’t exist. And I have no reason to hope it will ever exist in my lifetime. 

So stop telling me to look somewhere else; you don’t understand what made this one a unicorn. 

***

Addendum: The only other possible show that could perhaps fill this gap is It’s Always Sunny in Philadelphia (re: Mac/Dennis). But I’m hesitant to say it exactly meets that criteria, for a number of reasons:

1 - It’s far less serialized relative to Supernatural and (except for a handful of stand-alone episodes) very little of the story is grounded specifically in Dennis/Mac’s romantic dynamic (unlike SPN, where it is absolutely central to much of the narrative)

2 - IASIP is fundamentally satirically in nature/tone which makes it much harder to have genuine romantic pathos (not impossible, but harder) 

3 - All the characters on IASIP are fundamentally crummy people who you aren’t exactly supposed to root for. Which doesn’t mean a romance between two of them can’t have its value/charm/worth but it’s not the same as when it is between characters who unequivocally deserve nice things/happy endings

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 1

Summary: It’s a year since Ransom was murdered, and you’re settling well into your new life in Boulder. It hasn’t just provided you with a fresh start-it’s brought you a new sense and purpose, an appreciation for the things you took fore grated, and the friendship of a former ADA…

Warnings: Bad Language, allusions to past abuse (Non Con/Dub Con) but nothing explicitly described in this chapter.

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist��// Main Masterlist

A/N- So, here it is! The sequel to Murder, He Wrote . This is the last time I’ll post this note, however, please be aware that the prequel is a Dark series. Whilst this is not, it will contain flashbacks and themes as we progress, however nothing will be as dark as MHW. Chapters will be clearly labelled with appropriate warnings. If anyone is uncomfortable with the themes of a certain chapter, I will be more than happy to post/provide abridged versions which will not deviate from the storyline.

Sunrise. You used to hate the coming of each day. It meant another monotonous day in your young adult life. A 'depends on the day' type of job at the paper in which you got your start, it meant earning little for the slave work you put into each piece or research. It meant another day you'd woken up in fear, not knowing what was coming next. Then, for a little while, sunrises were okay. They were a soft glow across the room, illuminating hard lines and soft curves, whispering words and lingering kisses. And then, they became fearful again, bringing the unpredictable nature of a life in which you were trapped.

But now, over the last few months, since taking up your new hobby, sunrise had become a beautiful thing. The feeling of peace and comfort washing over you like a warm rain, bringing the redeeming nature of a new day as vibrant watercolours paint the new-born sky. Whether you caught it from the East side of your condo; your master balcony and study or your garden, or even your hikes, you appreciated every, single sunrise as if you were seeing it for the first time ever, each and every day.

For this morning's sunrise, you were perched along Boulder Creek Path, a trail that runs from the foothills to across town, a typical recreational getaway for many locals and tourists. You looked out over the bridge as the creek flowed beneath your feet. You were lost in the serenity of it, the bubbling water lulling your mind into a deep mediation that washed peacefulness through your entire body.

A year ago today, your life changed and you were freed. Free of the nightmare that had plagued you, robbing you of nearly a year of your life. The months that followed weren't so easy, but once things settled and the fires were extinguished, you found peace.

You found you.

Your phone buzzing in your pocket brought you back from your reverie, pressing your thumb onto the screen to unlock it. You opened your messages tab and tapped the most recent incoming text.

A smile flicked on your face as you slipped your phone back in your pocket. It didn’t escape your knowledge how Andy didn’t need to even ask what coffee you wanted. But then again, this wasn’t the first time you’d had breakfast in the small, independent coffee place not far from your home and place of work. You knew when you arrived that a large caramel vanilla latte, with an extra shot would be waiting. But no food, your order varied depending on your mood.

Twenty minutes or so later, you parked your sting-grey Jeep Grand Cherokee SRT 4x4 back in your garage to your condo at the corner of 9th and Pine Street and set off on the short ten minute walk to your designated meeting place, centred near the town square, not far from your office which was a gorgeous old red-brick building on the corner of 16th and Walnut Street.

As you approached, you didn’t spot Andy’s black Audi TT in any of the spaces littered around but it didn’t bother you. Barber was reliable, if he said he was going to be there, he’d be there.

And sure enough, as you walked along the side of the cafe you, spotted him at your usual, preferred table by the large window, overlooking the street. He saw you approaching and smiled, giving a small wave.

The smell of roast coffee beans, baked treats and other delicious aromas hit your senses as you opened the door. You approached the table and Andy stood up to great you, smiling. A light grey tee sat exposed under a partially zipped up light weight blue leathered hoodie whilst dark and crisp denim covered his narrow hips and long legs, his go to well-worn black work boots on his feet. His hair was styled and soft looking, his beard always trimmed and neat. He gave you a strong, yet gentle hug, a juxtaposition he managed effortlessly before he turned and waited for you to sit first before he took up his previous seat, nodding to your waiting drink.

“Thank you.” You beamed at him, taking a quick sip. "Of course." He smiled as he took a drink of his own coffee, straight black, before he leaned back a little. His left arm rested over the back of the booth bench, the platinum of his wedding ring catching the early morning sun which streamed through the window. You momentarily glanced at your own hand, bare of the heavy rings which had been taken in the ‘mugging’. Mind you, you wouldn’t be wearing them even if you still had them. Your story was a lot different to his.

“So, where'd you go this morning?" his soft baritone drifted across the table and you glanced back at him. "Fiddled around down Boulder Creek Path." "You seem to be getting around better now." "Yeah, thank God for GPS. Did I tell you that last week I was looking for some store Amber vaguely told me where about it was and ending up like thirty minutes down the highway towards Denver." He laughed, his whole body smiling, radiating genuine amusement. "You have more faith in GPS than me, when I first moved here I got pulled over for going the wrong way down a one way street because it told me to.” You grinned as he shook his head. "And that annoying voice! I want to wring her damn neck." You gave a chuckle but before you could reply, the middle-aged woman, who owned the café, interrupted you both with her usual familiar greeting and the smile she reserved for Andy. “Hey Patti, how are ya?” He smiled back. “Same old, same old.” She winked back. “What can I get you kids today?” “Y/N?” Andy looked at you and you smiled. “Can I get an almond croissant and a granola pot, please? With the blueberry compote.” “Sure honey, and for you Mr Barber?”

“French toast please, all the trimmings.”

A fizzing filled your ears as you were suddenly back on a clinically clean, modern kitchen, nervously scouring a fridge and cupboards for something to make your captor breakfast with. You swallowed, taking a deep breath, counting backwards from five as you always did to keep the memory from swallowing you.

“Hey,” a gentle touch to your hand jolted you back and you looked at Andy who frowned. “You okay?” "Yeah, no, I mean yes, I'm okay. It just…it dawned me this morning that this was the best thing I could have done for myself. Like there's just a newfound peace that's settled with me, you know?" He just smiled as he squeezed your hand before slipping his away. “Yeah, I do.” No more was said about it, and Andy didn’t press. He never did. In the eight weeks or so that had passed since you’d met him that Friday evening in the bar, the pair of you had struck up a friendship that was based on a mutual understanding. You both carried a heavy burden of a traumatic past on your shoulders, but you had an unspoken rule. He had never mentioned Ransom. And you, in turn, never broached the subject of Laurie or Jacob. You understood you were both moving on with your life, both wanting to heal from the past and you wanted to spend the rest of your life never in fear again. Instead, a simple chatter always flowed between the two of you, and today was no exception. You barely stopped to thank Patti for dropping your order off at the table. Current work was never a topic of conversation, although office gossip featured on occasion, but mostly it was always about happenings around town, him asking about you, your parents and your old job, the two of you talking about your favourite places in Boston. You never missed certain facial and eye cues Andy gave off at the mention of certain things, but when you saw them, that sag in his smile or the far off look his eyes would give, you'd change the subject. You ate in comfortable companionship and after another coffee, Andy asked for the bill and then pulled out his card to pay. "Next one is on me, you paid for the last two and coffee all this week." You gave him a stern look as you headed towards the exit. “Well, if you wanted you could grab us a beer later.” He shrugged, pulling the door handle to open it, allowing you to step out before him. “I gotta nip into the office for a coupla hours but...” "Breakfast AND drinks?" You smiled as he fell into step beside you. The July day was starting to warm a little now, the slight chill of the early morning all but gone. “If I didn't know any better, I'd say you actually like hanging out with me." “Well, I wouldn’t go that far. I just find you slightly less irritating than everything and everyone else.” He teased and you laughed. “So... Happy hour?" "Yeah." You nodded “It's a date." Andy confirmed and you quirked your eyebrow, trying not to laugh at the look on his face as he realised what he had said. “A date?” “Well, I don’t mean a date date but...” You felt the heat in your neck a little, so to save your embarrassment and his blushes, you smiled, "it's a date-not-date. Say Oskar’s, 6:30?" "Oskar’s." He confirmed. "I'll save you a tall, cold one." “You’re an angel, you know that?” "I wouldn't go that far. My halo is held up by horns” “Even Prometheus was an angel at some point, Y/N.” He replied as you reached the corner of the street where you would part. Him towards the office, you back home. You rolled your eyes and shook your head. "I'll see you tonight." At that he gave you another quick hug, his hand rubbing your back over the top of your light jacket before you headed your separate ways.

You enjoyed the walk home. It gave you the perfect chance to just mellow out and walk off a bit of your breakfast. You tucked your hands into the pockets for your vest, your white thermal keeping your arms covered. You headed down Pearl Street, watching as the little shops and boutiques began to set up their patios and side walk spaces for their Saturday. You took in the clean fresh mountain air deep into your lungs and allowed a warm smile to cross your lips. 

From Pearl to 9th you went, hooking a right up 9th until you walked to the corner of Pine, and onto the porch of the nice and spacious condo you closed escrow on just weeks ago. 

That deep feeling of home greeted you as you stepped inside, wiping your boots on your door mat just before kicking them off and setting them by the back door you’d come through. The cream walls invited you in, the oak furniture and fixtures, a feature that reminded you of home, the decor you grew up with, a safe place. 

You'd bought the condo outright with the money you'd inherited from Ransom's untimely death and subsequent estate. You knew before you'd even stepped foot into the property initially, that it'd become yours. The week you closed escrow, you and your parents moved you into the three bedroom, three and a half bath condo, never looking back. 

The open floor plan and panoramic views had stolen your breath and it was then, the first night your parents had left you alone, too anxious to sleep alone, you had fallen in love with the sunrise, seeing it from your front garden patio, bundled up with tea and a wool blanket. All three rooms in the space had no adjoining walls and their own en-suites. The master bedroom, your room, was massive. An en-suite with walk in shower, soaking tub and Jack and Jill sinks. Two walk in closets that you knew you'd probably never fill completely, an Eastwardly view and balcony. The two spare rooms, were separated, one on the second floor down the hall from yours where it's balcony looked West, as it were above the garage and the third on the top and final floor with its own balcony. That was your office space, a spot for you to work and to breathe in the fresh air. 

Everything in that condo was yours, down to the logs you'd put in your fireplace and the silly little amenities you'd given yourself from knickknacks to the colour of your dishes. There was one space however you left untouched. And only your parents had been inside to pack away your unused things as storage space. That room was your basement. You didn't need to go down there, you figured if you needed something from there, you'd go buy it anyway. All that was truly stored down there anyway were things from your childhood your mother insisted on you bringing along.

As if her ears were burning, your phone buzzed from your back pocket, revealing your mother calling. 

"Hey, Mom." You answered. 

"Hi, honey. I was just calling to see how you were doing. Check in on you." You could hear the worry in her voice and you couldn't help but smile. 

"I'm really good, Mom. It’s been good here." "You still hiking every day?" She sounded hopeful now.  "Lately it's just been on the weekends. I've been really busy at work, which isn't exactly a bad thing either." You had made your way to your room, looking for some lounge pants to change into while you continued your conversation.  "Well, busy is a blessing. Do you have anything planned for today or...."  "Uh, well I just had breakfast with a friend from work who I'm also meeting for drinks later." You smirked at the thought.  There was a joyful sigh that poured into your ear from the ear piece, "Oh, this friend wouldn’t happen to be the mysterious Andy you’ve name dropped the last few calls would it?"  You hesitated, "y..ye...yeah." Then you heard the tell-tale sound of your mother's chuckle. “We’re just friends.” "I'm not saying anything." You could picture her with her hands held up in defence. "You sound happy." “I am. I feel okay, more than okay even. I’m good.” "Alright. Well, don’t waste your day. Enjoy it. Your dad and I will talk soon." “Yeah, listen Mom, why don’t you come over for a few days in a couple of weeks? You’ve not been since the week you came to help me move in. It would be nice to show you round now I’ve got my bearings.” "We would love that. I'll have your father look at booking some time." “Okay just let me know. Tell Daddy I said hi.” "I will, sweetie. Love you, bye.” "I love you too, Mom, bye." The seventeenth of July, a date that you hope one day will come to mean nothing and be like any other day. But for now, it was a sting that reminded you of all that had happened. Not unlike Halloween, a day in which you'll forever hold in a fearful anxious place in your soul. It served as a reminder of the moment your life had taken a very dark turn, a darkness that you were still, in a lot of ways, finding your way through. Ransom. His name still tasted sour on your tongue. But left a sadness over your heart like a sheer curtain. You had truly hoped he wasn't going to revert back to the beast that held you captive. But you were wrong, and post the revelation of the real reason he had taken you, he’d been far more brutal and cruel than he had with you before, something you’d thought was impossible. And he’d broken you for a second time, or so you’d let him think. Desperate to escape his clutches, you’d done the only thing you could- you’d killed him. Whilst you may not have held the knife, you’d arranged it all. And, even though it had been an absolute last resort, you’d be lying if you said there hadn’t been a satisfaction to watching him bleed out and choke on his own blood. The realisation that had clouded his arrogantly handsome features as he came to understand it was your doing would be forever etched into your brain. That said, it made you feel a little bit queasy when you thought about how taking someone’s life could make you feel a sick sense of pleasure. The nightmares had plagued you for months after. The torture which sleep brought you only ceased around the time things were settled within the system between you and his parents. With a deep sigh and the need for distraction, you set about some spot cleaning in between loads of laundry and by early afternoon you had settled in on your couch with a beer and your latest box set binge. Not two episodes in and your phone pinged next to you.

With a smirk, you snapped a photo of your beer bottle in your hand and a few moments later his response came through.

The angel made you laugh, a direct reference to his teasing before. But before you could reply, you got another text with simply saying “fuck it” along with a picture of a tumblr of whiskey on his desk. With a snort you replied

With a smile you tossed your phone down onto the seat beside you, and resumed your watching.

***** Andy was kidding when he playfully said he'd be there by 6:45, fully intending on their agreed upon 6:30. But, he was late. He'd been so involved with his brief that he'd lost track, and for the first time since meeting her, was late for a meet up with Y/N. She was fully understanding as he'd text her apologizing for the time as he'd rushed out of the office and quickly headed for Pearl Street. He'd gotten very lucky with close parking and literally stepped inside Oskar's Taproom promptly at 6:45. He found Y/N sitting at the bar, her hair down, a nicely fitted black tee and skinny denim jeans, her foot tapping against her bar stool in waiting. Next to her was an empty stool and a full, cold looking tall pilsner on the bar, saving his space.

"Hey," he said as he leaned into her, a gentle hand on her back, getting her attention.

Y/N startled a bit but realized it was Andy and grinned, "'bout time! I was going to get started on yours without you." She nodded to the cold beer.  “I’m so sorry.” He shook his head, “I just got caught up.” "Well, you haven't stood me up yet, so I trusted you'd show." “And I did tell you 6:45 before. You know, on account of you being a cheeky little shit.” She rolled her eyes at him, "whatever." She smirked. He slid onto the stool next to her and took a long pull of his beer, damned it tasted good. He gave an appreciative sigh and turned to her. “So, do anything much this afternoon?” "I did absolutely nothing, well nothing of importance. Talked to my mom, did laundry, you know nothing exciting." “To be honest, sounds like a pretty good afternoon.” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s nothing better than laying in front of the TV with no where you have to be.” "Cheers to that," she raised her glass to him. He clinked his with hers and returned the smile she had. The blues band that was set to play happy hour was starting to tune up and it gave Andy an idea. "What do you say we find a spot in the patio, little less noise." “Sounds good.” She nodded. Andy flagged the bartender down for another round to take with them. But before Y/N could pick up her glass, Andy took it for her and gestured with her head for her to go on in front. She looked a little surprised at his act of basic good manners, and not for the first time. He'd often seen her look at him in a similar way when he held doors open for her or helped her with her jacket. It made him wonder what kind of asshole Drysdale had been. But, then again, he got the impression it hadn’t been a particularly happy relationship to start. Not that it was any of his business, nor was he one to talk. The last seven months he’d been married to Laurie had been as strained as they'd ever got. They found a spot at a two top near the corner of the patio at the gate that separated it from the sidewalk. Andy waited for Y/N to sit before he set their glasses on the high top table and took his own seat. "So...much better," he leaned in across the table. "Love this place, but it's not always the best for conversation." “Yeah but it has a good atmosphere.” She smiled. “I like it. Not the type of place that-“ she stopped dead and took a deep breath. “Doesn’t matter.” He half smiled, "you know, I've been meaning to tell you, it's okay to talk to me about anything you want. No pressure, no strings. Just a friendly ear." She smiled. “I know, thanks. And the same goes for you too.” For the first time, an interesting silence came between them. They each sipped their drinks in an almost a mirrored like fashion and chuckled when through. "I think that's the first time we've ever not had something to say." Y/N shrugged. He nodded, and then she took a deep breath. “I was just gonna say its not the type of place Ransom would ever have taken me. He’d have thought it beneath him.” "I think that's the first time you've ever mentioned his name." He pointed out. "Yeah, I try not to. It's uh," he watched her as she struggled to start her story, playing nervously with the earring in her ear. "Complicated." He leaned on the table, his forearms crossed and supporting his weight. He wanted her to know she had his full attention. “Well, from what I know about him, which granted is only what I saw on the news or heard around Boston, he certainly enjoyed the finer things in life.” "That's one way of looking at." She chuckled dryly. "It wasn't an easy marriage, despite how short lived." "Well, I was with Laurie since law school and we still had our ups and downs. I don't think marriage is easy in general." Andy admitted. "I was with Ransom less than nine months before we got married. It, uh, lasted three weeks."

Andy paused, “okay, so granted Laurie and I were a whirlwind what with her falling pregnant so fast but... I’ll give you that one.” “A whirlwind?” She asked and Andy nodded. “Yeah, we hadn’t even been together a year when she got pregnant with Jake. Not gonna lie, I shit myself but...” he sighed, swallowing. “Well, he was worth it.” "I'm sure he was." She nodded. Andy cleared his throat. “He was a good kid, despite what he, well what he was accused of.” “I can’t even begin to imagine how that felt, for any of you.” She said gently. “Fucking shit.” He said bluntly. She blinked and then the pair of them laughed quietly. "I'm sorry, Andy. And I mean that in all sincerity." He sighed and gave a soft little smile. “Thanks. You know, for the most part it’s just happy memories. But then sometimes it’s hard...” he trailed off shaking his head, “but of course you’ll know that.” “Suppose so.” She shrugged. “I doubt our marriage was anything near as loving as yours. I, uh...well, Ransom was mentally abusive, very controlling. Getting married wasn't exactly what I'd wanted but, I felt trapped in a way." She paused as he listened intently. "I guess it's harder to explain than I thought." She bit her lip and then shook her head. “Then the asshole went and got himself killed.” "I hate that you had to witness that." She shrugged and her finger swiped at the condensation on the outside of her half empty beer glass. “It was a year ago today.” “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy shook his head in shock as he took a deep breath. “I’m so sorry.” “I’m not.” She sighed. “And I know that probably sounds awful but... I don’t mourn him, I can’t. Not after everything. I’m just glad to be away and out of it. Fuck, that makes me sound like a really cold hearted bitch.” She scrunched her nose and chuckled a bit. Andy cocked his head to one side, studying her face which was, despite what she said, laced with sadness and he took a deep breath. There was more to her story than she was telling him, he could see that, but he had his own secrets too. And he found himself realising he didn’t care. Moving away post the accident that claimed Jake and later Laurie’s life had been a way for him to leave all that shit behind. And she was trying to do the same. “Okay, let’s make a deal.” He leaned forward. “No reverse gear. We look forward and not back, at least not at the hard stuff.” It took a moment for her to process it, and Andy watched her expression behind her eyes as he did so. Then she smiled, "deal." Andy smiled as she reached for her beer. He watched her pretty face as she drained her glass, setting it down in the table before she leaned towards him. “Have you eaten? Because I’ve suddenly got a hankering for something greasy and very bad for me.” “Sounds like someone I used to work with.” Andy shot before he could stop himself and Y/N threw her head back in a loud laugh. “Lawyers for you.” “Hey, not all of us are jerks.” He pouted and she shrugged. “Jury’s out.” She winked. At that Andy raised his brows, downed the rest of his pint and then stood up. “Something dirty and greasy that isn’t an attorney coming up, I’ll grab us a menu.” They each ordered a greasy, filthy cheeseburger with all the fixings and two smaller beers a piece to go with it. They moved their conversation away from their pasts and talked music as the band played some songs they were familiar with. Y/N finding the perfect moment to joke with Andy again about his age versus hers, despite it being maybe seven or eight years. Neither seemed to mind.  Again, when the bill came, Andy slapped his card down before Y/N even had a chance to grab her wallet, which caused him to laugh loudly at her pout. “You’ll just have to get it next time.” “Oh," she smirked, "so that’s your game? You paid, so I owe you a next time?” He shrugged. “Would that be such a bad thing?” She bit her lip and grinned with a shake of her head. “No, not really.” “Good, I’ll hold you to that. And, as a lawyer I feel obliged to tell you that’s a legally recognised verbal contract.” “Uh, I’m sure there’s a rule that a social agreement made between friends is done so without an intention of being enforceable.” Y/N shot back and Andy felt his mouth curl up on a little surprised smirk. “Therefore no intent, no legal comeback. Your move, Counselor.” He laughed and shook his head. “Nope, I got nothing.” “In that case, I call recess.” She grinned. “Oh faahk off with the legal puns!” Andy snorted and once more she laughed as they stood up, their night at an end. He walked behind Y/N with a gentle hand on her back as she weaved through the tables on the patio, eventually ending up on the sidewalk out front.

"Thanks, for breakfast, dinner, drinks," Y/N shook her head, feigning annoyance. Andy smirked, "thanks for meeting me. You're not walking home are you?" "I can, it's not far." She replied, folding her arms over her chest.

"Absolutely not, I'll take you," he nodded his head in the direction in which his car was. He gave a small wink when she accepted his offer. He held the door open for you as you slid into the passenger seat of his Audi TT. You quickly realized that this was the first time you'd been in his car and the very first time he would see your doorstep. However, the thought of both those things didn't bother you one bit. In fact, you found yourself more comfortable than you'd expected.

All in all the drive was no more than five minutes, and if he hadn’t been going that way already, you’d have felt like a complete fraud, but he assured you it was on his way.

You helped yourself out but Andy waited for you around the front hood and walked you to your doorstep, lit by the lantern porch light your Home Owners Association contract insisted be up. "So, this is me," you sighed. Andy had his hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans and he rocked a little on his heels as he waited for you to open your front door. When you'd opened it, he scratched behind his neck and said, "so I'll see you Monday?" "Yeah," you agreed. He turned to go but you called out to him, "Hey, Andy?" He quickly turned back to you, his one foot on your stoop, the other the next step down, "yeah?" In a sudden moment of courage, you stood on your toes and placed a soft kiss to his cheek. His smooth cheek and the slightly rough yet softer than anticipated scratch of those dark whiskers, intermittent speckled with auburn, felt amazing against your lips. And fuck, did he smell amazing. Which you knew already from the tight and friendly hugs he'd seemed to start giving you. The first hit of his aftershave was always the same, dominated by a white-out of bergamot and pepper, a bright flash of sweet, dewy citrus that is both crisp and clean, underpinned by a freshness that was both light and gentle and completely different to the heavy sandalwood based fragrance you’d grown so used to. It was brief, but when you pulled back, you gave a content huff, “Huh.” “What?” He was clearly puzzled. “Your beard. It’s kinda soft.” “What? What the hell did you expect?” He laughed. “I dunno, maybe a toilet brush type bristle.” “You kiss a lot of toilet brushes Y/N?” “Try not to.” She winked. “Thanks again, Andy. I enjoyed today.” He chuckled and shook his head as he watched you turn back to your door and finally stepped inside your home. Before you closed the door, you turned back, noticing he was watching you go in. "Bye."

"Goodnight, Y/N."

**** Chapter 2

[a-man-for-hire-and-his-archives]

Know no shame: queerness in the golden age of TV and piracy

Both Our Flag Means Death and Black Sails go all in on queer pirates — eventually

[Editor note: This post contains light spoilers for Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death]

Our Flag Means Death has become a bit of a sensation, to put it mildly. The show skyrocketed in popularity for weeks after its debut, both in terms of streaming metrics and the outpouring of fan art.

That’s in no small part thanks to its centering a romance between two men, Stede Bonnet and Edward “Blackbeard” Teach, which captured the hearts of many, especially among queer viewers starved of on-screen representation. Even as queer representation has improved over the decades, with several ongoing shows featuring queer characters and subplots, it’s still rare for a series to focus squarely on queer romance, especially in genre shows.

Perhaps some of the infatuation stems from how Our Flag Means Death marketed its romance story — namely, it didn’t. Those initial trailers, teasers, and handful of episodes focused on the comedy hijinks of Stede Bonnet and his inept band of pirates. Not so much as a longing glance between Stede and Ed. For an audience more often used to queerbaiting or sometimes no inclusion at all, the shock that this show really was going to commit to that romance seems to have come with much elation, not to mention a viewership which tripled somewhere between its debut and its finale. Even creator David Jenkins has commented on the matter; speaking to The Verge, he said, “I think I didn’t realize — because I see myself represented on camera, and I see myself falling in love in stories — I didn’t realize how deep the queer baiting thing goes. Being made to feel stupid by stories, I guess. […] [L]ooking at how people were kind of afraid to let themselves believe that we were doing that was a surprise to me, and it’s heartbreaking.”

Oddly enough, though, this isn’t the first time a queer pirate show has buried the lede. Though the shows don’t share channels, decades, or even sensibilities, the way they slowly revealed the queerness of their protagonists reveals how both of these shows reflect the different climates in which they were released.

Black Sails, which premiered back in 2014, is a series that acts as both a prequel to the classic pirate novel Treasure Island and a mishmash of real history. Long John Silver brushes shoulders with real pirates like Charles Vane and Anne Bonny. In spite of any misgivings you might have about its gritty Treasure Island take, it’s a genuinely thoughtful exploration of history and fiction. To be sure, it has its fair share of bloody violence and sex; it was seen as Game of Thrones on the high seas among critics.

What it absolutely does not do upfront is let the audience know that one of its central characters (arguably the story’s primary protagonist), Captain Flint, is in fact a gay man, and that his oppression and persecution under British society is the root of his entire violent quest.

In Black Sails this twist serves a purpose, held back until halfway through the second season. Flint, initially an enigma to audiences and his crew alike, is a larger-than-life character — an inscrutable, cunning, and ruthless pirate, much like the character first referenced in Treasure Island. He is allowed to embody a hypermasculinity, the archetypal bloodthirsty captain who will do anything for gold. The reveal that he’s gay and that his mission is to rebel against the British Empire, to create a nation free of its rule, complicates everything he has done and will do, turning him from a mercenary into a revolutionary.

The fact that Black Sails and Our Flag both smuggled queerness into their narratives is made all the more interesting when considering the real-life parallels of the characters. Both shows play with our conceptions of history and well-known figures. Stede Bonnet and Blackbeard really did hang out, and the show simply makes a leap as to why that could be; Jenkins has explicitly said he’s interested in treating recorded history as merely a jumping-off point. After all, it’s unclear how much he’s even reading into their relationship. To this day, there’s a lot of debate about how much queerness has been exorcised from records and accounts, either by omission or by individuals’ own necessary discretion.

Retelling well-known histories as queer tales is more about putting back into our past what has been erased from it. As Black Sails co-creator Jon Steinberg said to Den of Geek regarding the show’s historical figures, “There’s some freedom in the moment you realize that the historic record is severely compromised in terms of what these peoples’ lives were like. They had a motive to lie, and so did the people in London. […] It gives us the room to try to tell a story that will hopefully feel real. It probably won’t necessarily match up to the textbook to what happened, but I think we would probably argue that the textbook is already a narrative that somebody with an agenda put together a long, long time ago.”

Not that it’s hard to read queerness into existing histories, even if the terminology and conception of the ideas differed at the time. Romanticized pirates have always been portrayed as camp, an image perhaps spurred on by historical figures like Jack Rackham, nicknamed Calico Jack on account of his colorful outfits (who also makes an appearance in OFMD). Mary Read spent a portion of their life under the name Mark Read, and whether it was simply a disguise or fluid gender expression or if they were even trans, it lends itself to storylines like that of Jim on Our Flag Means Death. Accounts of Blackbeard spending all of his time with Stede Bonnet can so easily be understood through a queer lens that it’s shocking no story put such a twist on these figures before Our Flag Means Death.

But the answer to why no one had might be captured somewhat in the response to Black Sails’ own voyage into queer storytelling.

To be fair, Black Sails does have queer characters from the outset — two women, Eleanor and Max — but the first season generally presents them under a leering male gaze, seemingly intended to titillate general audiences. The show’s interest in the revolutionary qualities of queerness didn’t take center stage until its second season. While it spawned a fervent following among some queer fans, it equally drew the ire of homophobes who felt betrayed by the reveal that half of the cast was queer. Reddit is littered with rants against the show’s “gay agenda” by lads who thought they were getting a show “just about pirates,” all part of an outcry that even got Flint’s actor, Toby Stephens, to comment. “Before the revelation I had this huge following from guys, but as soon as that happened it was like they had been betrayed. It was the sense of utter betrayal and I wasn’t surprised because I knew it was going to be a massive thing.” The degree of discomfort among men, that simply by being gay Flint no longer adhered to their rigid standard of a male icon, is hardly something that’s gone away.

In the present, though, the TV landscape has changed considerably since Black Sails aired. Streaming services have come to rule the roost and fracture the monoculture, and the pandemic has only further shaped that. Black Sails had to compete against The Wire, The Sopranos, and Game of Thrones to earn its place at the table. For Our Flag Means Death, which is much more a comedy than a drama (and not at all an epic genre TV series, though there are still plenty of old-fashioned stabbings), things are a little different.

While the special effects (the revolutionary StageCraft developed for The Mandalorian) that allow Our Flag Means Death to seem like it’s taking place at sea would have been reserved for much higher-budget shows only a few years ago, they’re a flourish for a series that largely takes place on small sets. It could’ve been a tiny budget sitcom a decade ago. That smaller scale may be what allowed it to take risks that, sadly, still feel daring in 2022. It’s not just a romance between Stede and Edward but an entire cast full of queer characters — a queerness that in its own context largely feels unremarkable, with the crew quietly tolerant and respectful of each other throughout the series.

In the last few years things have moved along, but even still, both shows had to operate under the very conditions of which they’re critical. As America and the U.K. both ramp up in homophobia and transphobia, with legislation seeking to target those vulnerable groups, the stories of Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death don’t feel like purely historical stories. They’re tales of the here and now. Pirates are a way to recontextualize those who society “others,” who are made outcasts and fringe by the mainstream. The shows invite us to ask why someone would choose to live on the edge, to unpack their histories and motives until their popular image is vanquished. To take the most well-known of pirates and to reframe them as traumatized queer outcasts is not intended as a historical rewrite but as a rebuttal of the very idea of a history written by the conquerors.

The British Empire present in both stories is depicted as an entity that is, at its worst, all-consuming barbarism and, at its best, all-consuming barbarism propped up by a veneer of civility. It’s an entity that not only destroys but warps reality around itself, reshaping history in its likeness.

In our present, queer people are once again being miscast as villains and boogeymen. In a way, Black Sails and Our Flag Means Death always dance on the edge of tragedy. Either they meet the same ends as their historical counterparts or we see the bittersweet truth of stories that are written out of history, their actions twisted into something evil. By giving that other perspective, by suggesting another account, these shows are a rallying cry for queer folk looking for their place in a world that doesn’t want them to exist at all — and a reminder to everyone who stands against us which side of history they’re on.

Source: Polygon

[amysubmits]

“Just Knowing” & Communication

I got an ask recently asking if I could write something about how doms seem to sometimes “instinctively know” things about their sub, and how communication plays into that. 

I thought it was a great point, and I had an experience that I’d been wanting to share in some way, that I thought would work well within that concept. Anyway, here goes...

I have shared experiences where CD reads my needs seamlessly. Those moments can feel almost magical and that makes me want to share them. I have occasionally heard from people who seem to think CD is nearly capable of reading my mind, as a result of posts like that. It’s not my intention to give that impression. 

There are occasional moments where I am shocked at how he knows things I didn’t say. I’ve also shared that sometimes those moments where he perfectly meets my needs are often the moments where I feel the most owned. That’s because him knowing and meeting my needs feels so intensely intimate, and so much of our D/s comes down to emotional intimacy.

He isn’t a mind reader, though. We have been together over a decade now, and he’s observant. I think that deserves a big mention, when discussing how he ‘just knows’ things about me. He notices my body language, and how I react to things. He learns a lot about me by simply paying close attention. This is really important to me. Him naturally watching me, noticing my mood and such, is a big way that he makes me feel loved. I couldn’t be with someone who wasn’t naturally drawn to try to learn me, and pay close attention to me. Just him being someone who pays attention is a huge part of how I feel loved. It shows me that he wants to know as much as he can about me, and that he wants to meet my needs. More than that, his desire to want to learn my needs period, matters. There are some people who just don’t wish to get that deep with their partner, they don’t care to know their partner like the back of their had. That would be a problem, for me, because I do want that level of intimacy. Part of how I knew that CD had that desire for deeper intimacy, was how he tried to learn what he could by observing me. 

At the same time, being mindful of your loved one’s body language, facial expressions and behaviors only goes so far. You can’t observe your way into knowing exactly what someone wants or needs. You just can’t. Certain things just have to be explicitly stated. While a good portion of our emotional intimacy comes from paying close attention to each other, more of it comes from our communication.

The truth is, there have been times where I’ve been frustrated that CD didn’t catch something. I’ve occasionally had the emotional reaction of almost feeling neglected because he didn’t notice something about me. And that? Is not a healthy reaction for me to have. That reaction is something I have to try to be conscious of, and I can’t allow myself to run away with those feelings. I have to recognize them and fight back against them. Because I can’t expect him to read my mind, or to pick up on everything, to ‘just know’ everything, or anything, really. If he isn’t aware of something, it is my responsibility to communicate. 

We were new to D/s in particular, we talked about our needs and wants all the time, often daily. Getting started with D/s requires really thorough communication so that you know the boundaries and limits of the dynamic, and so that you know what is expected of each of you. Even though we tried to hammer out our dynamic in advance, we found ourselves experiencing scenarios that we weren’t sure how they ‘should’ be handled with our D/s, because we couldn’t pre-plan our D/s for how to go about every possible scenario that life may throw at us. So whenever we experienced something new and didn’t know how to handle it, we’d have to discuss how we wanted to handle it. Or in there cases we’d handle a situation and then realize we wished it had been handled differently, and we’d discuss that and plan to do differently next time. 

After a while (many months?) it got to where we had the basics down and we didn’t need to talk about things as often anymore. We didn’t have to discuss it multiple times a week anymore, but perhaps a couple times a month was sufficient. Still, the frequency ebbs and flows. We go through phases, even now, 6 years in, of discussing our D/s more or less often. It mainly depends on whether we’re facing new things in life or making changes to our rules or the rest of our dynamic, or whether life is normal and our dynamic is unchanged. If we make changes, that means we’ll communicate about our D/s more often for a while, usually. Tons of what we know about each other and our needs are things we’ve learned through all that communication. Way more than we’ve learned by just observing each other. 

Our “meta-talks” (discussions about our D/s) are perhaps one of the areas that I don’t give enough attention to on this blog. They’re often very private feeling, so it’s hard to feel comfortable sharing much about them. 

A couple of months ago after a meta-talk, we came to the conclusion that it would be helpful for us to focus on making sure I feel very seen. It wasn’t that I had stopped feeling seen...but more that our current life circumstances were making me need to feel more seen than usual. Anyway, CD had me make him a list of things that made me feel seen, to share with him.

The things I shared on that list were all things he had done “naturally” before. So it was more about sharing with him what things he does that make me feel particularly seen. Still, I did over-think it, a little bit. I wondered if it would feel different for him to do these things for me after I shared them with him, rather than doing them purely instinctually, like he had in the past. Would it feel less genuine? Would I be able to absorb it and really effectively feel see if I suspected he was doing this for the purpose of making me feel seen? 

Early on, I did feel a bit bashful or self-conscious when I noticed him doing those things a little bit more often. I felt a bit insecure like “Oh, he just thinks he has to do that because I need to feel more seen.” and for some reason that cheapened it a little in my mind, and also made me feel a bit selfish or something. Worrying about being a burden on people is a deep seeded insecurity of mine that comes in up all sorts of ways. So it’s not surprising that my brain tried to twist this into ‘he just feels obligated to’. Even early on when I was feeling those insecurities, I was feeling seen, at the same time.  As more time went on though, those insecurities softened and I was able to recognize that these things were feeling fulfilling to him, too, which further eased my insecurities. 

This is just one example of how our direct communication has benefitted our D/s. When this type of thing occurs over the course of many years, I hope you can imagine how that can assist with creating those “he just knows” moments. 

I think a lot of good relationships have similar experiences with hesitating to share exactly what you want from your partner. The love is there, the good intent is there, but unless you tell your partner exactly what makes you feel the best...you can’t magically expect them to know. Yet many of us have this instinct that “I can’t tell them exactly how I’d like them to treat me, or it won’t be as ‘real’”. 

I think D/s often complicates this issue even farther. Subs hesitate to ask for ‘too much’ because they don’t want to be too needy, or to feel like they’re taking charge or telling their doms what to do. Which I think is a valid concern. In my view, the answer to that potential problem isn’t to avoid sharing what make you feel good. Instead, it’s just to be mindful of the way that you are communicating, so that you are sharing the knowledge of your needs or desires without telling them what to do. 

Communicating in great detail is a huge part of how we find the intimacy that we’re after with D/s. Understanding in detail what makes each other feel dominant and submissive does SO much to assist us with keeping our D/s on track, and to keep each other feeling loved and cared for. These deep, difficult, detailed discussions are also helpful to our D/s because they make me realize how safe our relationship is. That sense of security allows me to let go and be more submissive. 

As I said earlier, I understand that instinct that if you tell someone exactly what you want, and then they do it, your initial instinct may be to feel like it’s less meaningful when they do it. Like asking for it somehow ‘cheapened’ it. 

I think that is a largely misguided instinct, though. I think that if you tell someone what feels good to you, and they do it just to placate you or please you? You can tell they’re just phoning it in. And if you tell them what makes you feel good, and they do it because they enjoy making you feel good? You’ll feel that too. 

It’s similar to how starting D/s worked for us. When I first asked for it, I worried it would be something he did just for me. But once he found meaning in it himself? I could tell that our D/s was fulfilling for him, that it was giving him joy, and that he was really feeling the connection with me through this dynamic. It was just easy to see that he was really ‘feeling it’. A similar thing can happen with "smaller” things such as specific acts of love, care or service.