#* narrative / deacon.

[obessivedork]

The more I think about it the more annoyed I am by the amount of Deadwoman Sadmen in Fallout 4. Like @the head writer WHO THE FUCK HURT YOU???? @Todd Howard WHY did you approve SO many of the EXACT SAME character backstory for MULTIPLE characters in ONE GAME??

You know what? I WOULD rather a bitter divorced MacCready who nontheless is looking for a cure for his son because that's still his kid! I'd rather Kellog's wife?/gf? LEFT him because he was a piece of shit merc! Must it have been a wife dying for Deacon to feel bad and change his ways? why not some random community member or or a friend something? Time and time again this series uses women as plot devices rather than as characters and fallout 4 is the worst offender. Not only is it misogyny and showing a severe lack of anyone but the most generic cis white men they could pull off the street to sit in the writer's room but it's So. Lazy. Every. Time!!!!

Sexism aside are they not embarassed with their lack of imagination and hack storytelling?

[ziracona]

I’m actually I think maybe more mad about the treatment Ethan got in that film. People talking about him like he’s James Bond and I will not stand for it. He’s never disrespected or diminished a female agent and he’s NEVER let a GF die not even in MI2 which was so bad it was retconned (unless I guess you count MI OG?? Like I wouldn’t but). He’s just nice. Benji has played damsel in distress more than anyone in the series. Furious they would even TRY to paint him that way.

[thedragonagelesbian]

"Do not take the crimes of those who manipulated us and put them at the feet of the world" is an Adelaide quote now. Btw. Im claiming it for her.

[inkskinned]

i was raised by a catholic deacon so as a kid - maybe ages 7 to 14 - i would have told you that abortion was only okay in exception cases like rape. i didn't even really understand any of the terms at play here, only how to parrot that there were "few and far between" exceptions, but abortion-as-a-whole was irresponsible and evil. i believed it was a bad form of birth control.

for context's sake - i still had a flip phone. google wasn't really a thing back then. the whole narrative was akin to the apostle's creed: i don't know that i ever thought about what the words meant, only that this was what i was supposed to say when asked. i remember being in 4th grade and having it down pat - abortion is evil, except in cases such as rape. my father wasn't insensitive, after all - he acknowledged there might be medical necessity to end a life.

what changed was that at 14 i learned how hard it is to prove that a rape has happened.

it was a boy, actually. and his piano teacher. and him telling me, crying, that nobody believed him that he didn't want it. and what if she gets pregnant?

this is the mark in a lot of our lives: at some point, someone will confide in you, and then you see exactly how often it happens. how it happens so fucking loudly, and nobody says anything. how often your friends, nervous, will shakily admit that while they love their partner, there are a few times that they didn't really consent, that they didn't really want it. for others, there are nights half-remembered in bars. for others, they married their partner at 15, so now it's "fine", legally. for others, there are yes moments that felt like a no. there were no moments that were never acknowledged. you say no but are told you actually said yes because of what you were wearing or because he is good at swimming and his life would be ruined or because he's a nice guy or -

in the last 8 years, my father has become radicalized. he now believes in "no exceptions".

but the truth is that there was never going to be a true "exception" clause. there was never going to be a grey area. i am not even really sure they believe in the concept of rape. and if they did - how would you ever prove it? in the six weeks you have to state your case - when it takes years in a court of law - the "rape exception" would simply evaporate under the continued pregnancy. you were never going to have a moment where you could privately tell a doctor - it's because of a rape. there was no box you could check. there was no form you could file. it was always going to be assumed consensual until proven malignant. it was always going to be your fault.

they also knew they couldn't actually sell the rest of us on this idea of it's always blessed. they knew in their hearts that every pregnancy should be wanted. they knew going in that plenty of us - even raised catholic, even having had this shoved down our throats - plenty of us still had too many questions about what ifs.

it's just they just didn't want to come off as monsters. they patted our heads and taught us they weren't insensitive. they just had these beliefs. and then they put their hands on our bodies. and said if you don't listen, i'm going to force them.

[saulweissberg]

saul spent over twenty-five years in courtrooms and office meeting rooms, arguing his case and fighting for his client. it had been easier than breathing, and he could probably cross examine in his fucking sleep. so, typically when it came to his personal life, the wind was usually out of his sails. fighting outside of his career exhausted him, though he often got roped into them anyway due to whichever ex-wife had been pissed off at him, whether he disappointed micah somehow, or the general petty squabbling of white-collar new yorkers. the point being: in his personal life, he just wanted to relax and maybe have a little fun. case in point: the joint in his hand, slowly burning, the red end of it glittering in the night. deacon was the intruder here, ruining saul’s high before it even began.

again, he didn’t understand the need for such hostility. even fucking thalia had moved on with her florist shop and teaching yoga classes. deacon was holding onto a grudge that saul and thalia had dropped, coming to a tentative peace after a run-in at a local baseball game and then a charity gala in chicago last month. they weren’t exactly friends, but they weren’t enemies. deacon had every right to be protective of his younger sister, but thalia was a grown woman. she didn’t need protection to this degree. she didn’t need deacon to defend her honor and stare after her ex-husband like some broken heart’s vigilante.

“no.” he responded simply, but his thoughts elaborated: you don’t deserve my fucking lecture, you puritan. then a crack about his weight! saul fixed deacon with an indignant stare. “deacon, i am in no way out of shape and you know that.” he was too vain to let himself go, as deacon was implying. he preferred to use his peloton bike a few times a week, and play a few rounds of golf (somehow, he found it within himself to ignore how it was deacon’s chosen sport any time he played) or tennis a few times a month. beyond that, he admittedly didn’t do as much as he probably should’ve. he just had never been a gym hound, so he did what he could and didn’t worry about it often. the lines on his face and the gray in his hair was more worrying than his body, anyway.

he was inhaling another hit off of his joint when deacon informed him of his sobriety. damn, saul was just cracking a joke about how they both weren’t young anymore. their days of clubbing were far behind them, that’s all he had meant. he nodded, lips rolling together as smoke evaporated out of his nose. “oh. good for you, man.” because what else was he supposed to say? haha, you quitter, or, i wish i could get through the week without some sort of substance? there was no other response that wouldn’t give deacon leeway to paint him further as some sort of machiavellian villain. just like everyone else in his life, he always said the wrong thing. always misconstrued. sometimes, it was easier to play the villain when that was what everyone had expected out of him. this time, however, he was tired already and didn’t feel like having every word he said torn apart for some hidden, acrimonious meaning.

you just gonna stand there or what?

the fuck kind of question was that? his face screwed up, brows furrowing. “this isn’t west side story. i’m not going to challenge you to a rumble or some shit.” he took another hit off of the joint, just to occupy himself. “you’re welcome to keep moving on, deacon. despite what you may think, this town is big enough for the two of us.” the three, if thalia was to be counted.

All memories of his, as far as Saul Weissberg is concerned, is ancient history. Whatever nights they’ve shared in New York City—now, thankfully, none of the carnal kind for which Saul is notorious at least in-between marriages, just your standard cocaine-laden nights in dank bathrooms and bodegas variety—feels so displaced to unravel here in Blue Harbor. It doesn’t make sense for him to be here, especially after the divorce. It doesn’t make sense that he ought to be in the running for Mr. Blue Harbor when he’s got no real ties to speak of, save for a boutique firm he claims to have established from the ground-up but in truth just feels like another extension of the Weissbergs’ many legal careers, and, well, his broken marriage. 

Part of Deacon, of course, can’t help that the rift in their marriage is partly his own undoing. He hasn’t exactly made it easy, over the years, for Thalia to say no to him and to their shared family as a consequence. After all, it had been at his behest that Thalia should move back to Blue Harbor, all those years ago, when he’d been fresh off another attempt at sobriety and their mother had begun bearing the worst of her illness. What happened thereafter, however, was entirely Saul’s—and, sure, partly, slightly, teensy, Thalia’s—undoing. And as juvenile as it sounds to take sides in the termination of a relationship, both parties of which he holds close to his chest, ultimately the defense had been stronger for Thalia. That is his sister, after all. They may not be bound in blood, but they are bound by commitment, and that is precisely what makes all the difference. . 

“You gonna lecture me on vanity now or somethin’, Saul?” Deacon says, rolling back the sleeves of his jacket and crossing his arms. Part of him thinks that they should just jostle in the middle of the street to reconcile the assortment of their differences, petty slights that have managed to accumulate over the years, but it wouldn’t be a fair fight. Saul may cut an imposing figure in the legal offices or in the courthouse or in any other establishment in New York City, but here, smack-dab in the middle of his hometown, he’s 6’0 and nothing. Even Micah, his ex-step-nephew, cuts a better silhouette, what with his youth and reckless confidence though he wonders if either one would appreciate the comparison. “Nothing wrong with wanting to be in top physical condition. You can do with a little exercise yourself.” Frankly, it takes a lot of fun out of the fight and—well—the murder scenario from five minutes ago. In all fairness, why should he desecrate his sacred weapon—his beautiful golf clubs—when he could very well just snap Saul Weissberg like the overgrown twig he is? 

Anyway, he’s forgetting himself. Being in the proximity of The Labyrinth is unnerving to him, and he walks a little further down the street, wondering whether Saul might follow. “Druggie days are over?” The chuckle that escapes his lips is grating against the air. A bit like disbelief, a bit like mirth, even a bit like regret. Yet another reason why he can’t deal with Saul’s presence in town. “Yeah, dude. I’m sober now and everything,” Deacon replies, echoing his former in-law’s own gesture and lifting his shoulders, attempting to derail the weight of the confession with a half-shrug. It still feels intimate to disclose, and admittedly, he doesn’t really know what he expects as Saul’s response. Doesn’t really know whether there’s a right one that he’d feel unconcerned with coming out of Saul’s mouth. Notwithstanding Deacon’s own strange hangup: that pride in his sobriety feels like the worst part.

 “You just gonna stand there or what?” And, he supposes, therein lay Deacon’s own hypocrisy. However hard he tries to convince himself that Saul is a horrible, horrible person, he might also be one of the few people that he knows longest, a strange revelation in and of itself.

[venus-haze]

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!” 

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd. 

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor. 

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too. 

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you. 

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room. 

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set. 

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in. 

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back. 

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

[ffredmujkic]

Spellbound -Siouxsie and the Banshees (thoughts underneath)

I hate edward twilight so much but im fucking obsessed with his fucked up dynamic with shilo. Shilo is very narratively treated like a girl. In fact he's the perfect girl in his helpnessless. hes a prince stuck in a tower, he always needs a man to come to his aid (deacon, arthur, emizel), he is characterized with stereotypical female traits (not wanting to get dirty, cant fight, a smooth talker, innocent in ways that makes him sweet and naive, he wont assert himself)

it makes me want to go insane with how much edward takes away Shilo anatomy. A theme constant throughout shilo life, his mother forcing him to live in a tower, deacon taking him away from the arthur and emizel, arthur taking a protective role in shilo life which leads him to thinking he has authority over shilo shown in the midnight circle when he says they didnt ask for his permission . Edward drugs shilo for shits and giggle presumably to ruin his night and to embarrass himself because it was a hallucinogen. The drug being administered when he forces shilo to drink from a body, a form of drinking shilo's body doesnt accept. Edward kipnapping shilo into his bed changing his clothing (pjs and later outfit). The entire blood bond, first drink being when he was unconscious and the second under false assumptions.

Going back to shilo’s lack of control its done to him by adults far older than him. Shilo gets treated like a child, one that needs pampering and protecting. While frustrating for shilo he is only 18 within the story, barely an adult. These adults being, his mother, deacon and arthur (to a lesser extent) all of which are people he seeks out for protection. he leans heavily on them to provide him with food, blood. And Edward in his second appearance tells shilo he can teach him, be a guide for him in the strange lands of LA. Edward tries to liken himself to the level of care taker that arthur is to him, while also maintaining a romantic aspect to their relationship. The trope of waking up healed in ur love interest bed. this older man the age of his mother taking card he’s fed (with edwards blood)

Sorry i dont have an end to this, if u want me to tag this with something please say what and i will. Just need to get whats haunting my brain out

[secretficblogs]

SDE (Single Dad Energy) Divorced David "Deacon" Kay x School Counselor! Reader

Summary: Deac gets called into Matts school to meet his new counselor.

What to expect: 1.6K words, Light mention of divorce, no angst, fluff, light flirting

A/N: This is the first fic I'm posting, so feedback is appreciated! I need more SWAT friends/moots, and I might add a part 2!

It was a slow day around HQ, which is why Deac was relieved to hear his phone ring. His relief quickly dissolved when he saw it was his ex-wife, and mother of his children, Annie. He sighed before picking up and plastering a smile on his face. His team members snickered as he walked away from the group. 

“David, Mathew's school just called. They asked for a parent but didn't say why. I'm in a session and can't get over there, " she said shortly. 

“We're in luck, I should be able to head over there shortly.” He looked over to his team, laughing, presumably teasing Luca. With a short goodbye, Annie hung up leaving Deacon to wonder what trouble his son had gotten into this time. He pocketed his phone before making his way back over to the table. 

“That was Annie. Mathew's school asked me to come in. Think you could spare me for a bit?” Deac looked towards Hondo, eyebrows raised. Hondo went to say “Yes” but Tan interrupted.

“I don't know, we may need your help with separating all of these M&M’s by color.” Deacon looked down at the small bowls of peanut candies, before laughing and shaking his head. He patted Tan on the back before swiftly making his way to the locker rooms. 

After a rather uneventful ride through mid-day LA traffic, he ended up at his child's school. He parked and entered the lobby. The receptionist asked him to sit and wait for the Counselor to come grab him. He thought back to the last school counselor and recalled a hoard of parents having problems with him. He wondered if the crappy counselor would be the one to grab him, or if they had finally replaced him.

He hadn't yet considered entering the dating scene. Not since Annie and him finalized the divorce. It wasn't the messiest, but he hadn't met anyone to go through a “clean” divorce either. It wasn't that he was still in love with Annie, but he was more concerned with getting split custody figured out. Not to mention work, which takes up most of his mental and emotional capacity. 

That's why he was in shock as the counselor came out to greet him. She was tall, her heeled boots only furthering the gap between the nearby counter and her waist. She was wearing a floral dress with poofy sleeves. Her curled brunette hair perfectly framing her face. Deacon felt his heart flutter, which shocked him. He hadn't felt that since…

“Mr. Kay?” She made her way over to Deac. Oh lord, her voice. He stood and shook her hand. He tried to shove down any unrelated thought but ended up making a fool out of himself trying to tell her he was Mr. Kay. Despite him stumbling over his words, she nodded along. Her hand extended to the office behind her, and she began walking down the hallway, urging him to follow her. 

“I'm Ms. (L/N). Thank you for agreeing to meet with me, Mr. Kay-” She began.

“Davids, fine.”

“Alright. Thank you for meeting with me, David. I reached out to Mathew's mother, but I’m glad you were the one to show up” She explained as they made it to her cozy office. She sat in an armchair and gestured for him to sit in the chair beside her. He was confused but got comfortable in the maroon chair regardless. 

“Mathew has been in my office a couple times, to talk about things on his mind.” She continued. Annie had mentioned something about Matt seeing the counselor, but he didn't want to pry too much. 

“Mathews' English teacher expressed some concerns with his personal narrative. After one of our meetings, he asked me to show you his essay.” She passed over a stapled paper. 

“Was it something he didn't want to share out loud?” 

“Sometimes children find it difficult to explain or convey messages face to face. Mathew’s writing is beautiful, and that's why I think you'll want to skim through it.” She furrowed her eyebrows slightly. Deacon swallowed and looked down at the essay his son worked on. While he read the counselor stood and made her way toward the window, giving him space to work through the well-written essay. His son was pouring his heart out, talking about how his dad’s work and his morals are shaping him into an amazing person. Deacon almost teared up at the amount of pride Matt had in his dad. Reading through the essay helped Deac understand the weight of the divorce on Matt, and how he wanted to support his siblings and be the “Deacon” when his dad wasn't there. 

He looked up to see the counselor looking down at her nails, done for the current season. His heart swelled for his son, but he was also impressed with how dedicated the counselor was to helping connect families. She looked up and met his eyes, then smiled. 

“You're welcome to take that with you, share it with Mathews mother if you think that'd help at all.” They stared at each other, a level of awkwardness settled between them with the mention of Deacon's Ex-wife. 

“I appreciate you bringing this to my attention. This whole… situation has been difficult to navigate, for everyone.” Deacon thought out loud, she nodded along. 

Her eyes shifted to her desk, “I told Mathew that I was his age when my folks got divorced. He reminds me a lot of myself when I was younger. David, Mathew is brilliant and his writing skills are something not many people see at his age.” She made her way back to the armchair, and sat, her hands settling in her lap. 

“He really is. I heard some pretty awful things about the last counselor,” He paused to witness her laugh. He could feel his insides warm; He wanted to hear that sound for the rest of his life. “Which is why I’m so glad my kids have a solid support system in their school. Do you have kids, Ms. (L/N)?” He looked up, making a mental note to talk to Mathew later. She let her eyes meet him again. Allowing herself to feel some excitement that he cared to ask about her life.

“Oh, I don't. I get my fair share of them here.” It was her turn to make him laugh. She noticed his eyes lingered on her for a moment longer than she would've expected. 

“I’m sure of it, I spend a couple hours with my youngest, and I start thinking in toddler. What made you want to become a counselor?” He crossed his arms.

“I've always been interested in psychology, and like I said, I went through a rough time when I was Mathew's age. So it led me here. ” She gestured to the office surrounding them. He nodded along as if it were the most interesting thing he'd heard in days. Every shred of information she gave him only made him want to know more. The light blush across her cheeks told him that she might want to know more about him too. 

"And you? What led you to SWAT?” They exchanged small talk before the phone on the desk rang. She excused herself before grabbing the phone. Deacon took this time to take in the cozy office. The maroon chairs paired well with the rest of the olive interior. He took it she was an artistic type. He found photos carefully placed along the walls, ones from all over the world. He recognized the Eiffel Tower behind her in one of them. In another she was in front of Chichen-itza. Other spots on the wall were filled with paintings, most of them portraits. 

“Yes… I understand. Yeah, we can reschedule… Tomorrow works, 2pm..? Alright. Good. Have a good day… Thank you!” She placed the phone back on the dock before turning back to him. “Sorry about that, David.” She held her hands together in her lap and sat on the corner of her desk. 

They talked about simple things, for a couple more minutes before Deacon received a text from Hondo, telling him where to meet for a case. He stood and shot her an apologetic look.

She laughed, “It’s no worry. Thank you for stopping in. I'm glad you got to read Matt’s essay. I hear there are some really great writing camps and competitions coming up. I think your encouragement could go a long way for him.” She smiled, something he noticed she did the majority of their time together.

“Of course. I didn't realize how much of a way my boy had with words. I'll talk to him more about it tonight. Thank you, Ms, (L/N).” He moved towards the door. 

“Please, call me (F/N).” Her blush came back even brighter. He felt bolder, now that she got a little more personal with him. He decided to shoot his first shot in decades and pray it hit somewhere.

“Well (F/N), If it's not too forward of me… Maybe we can get to know each other a bit more over dinner?” The moment the words left his mouth he felt nervousness making his body feel heavier. He couldn't help his hands from fumbling with each other. She was gorgeous, and a little younger than him. Not to mention his kid’s school counselor. 

His racing thoughts were stopped in their tracks by her voice. “I’d like that a lot. I know a Mediterranean place that serves the best paella. ” She looked to him for confirmation.

“Sounds great,” He wrote his number down on a nearby sticky note and passed it to her. “I can't wait to hear more about those pictures on the wall.” He took one last look at the picture of her in front of the Eiffel Tower, before backing out of the office. She laughed and waved him off.

“I'll text you.”

[stoat-party]

I’M DEEKPOSTING AGAIN, RAILROADIES

Deacon’s relationship with children(/his own lack thereof) is one of the most fascinating and understated pieces of character development in Fallout 4. I’m maybe too hg&:ghlkd@ to create a unified narrative here, so I’m just gonna make a list of details from the game and let you interpret from there.

Obviously he directly says that he and his wife were trying to conceive before she died. We don’t know whether it would ever have been possible, but, most likely, neither does Deacon.

He’s the only companion besides MacCready to love it if you share your grief at losing a child with Blake Abernathy. Also, as far as I can tell, he’s the only one to love it if you tell Miss Edna that children need love (and that love conquers all).

He seems to have some aversion to the subject of children, however (at least pre-war children). In the abandoned nursery he says, “When you’re done here, I’d like to leave,” in a very unDeaconlike tone. He also says he hates playgrounds.

At max affinity he has a very sweet line promising to help you find Shaun. I’ve never heard him say it so it could be cut content.

Reaction to rads: “Great. I didn't need to have more children.” (Yeah okay you liar)

He has two different pieces of dialogue that make it sound like he would have been interested in being a teacher. “So teachers, all they did was teach, right? They didn't farm or run shops or run guns on the side? Wow.”/“If I wanted steady work I would've stayed a teacher.” (Yeah okay you liar)

There’s a very cute conversation where he gets intel from a little girl (possibly Meg?) who’s his informant. To all of our devastation, the man is great with kids. Considering that and his dialogue with Travis, I think he’d be an amazing dad.

He also seems to have a good relationship with Shaun. He pulled out his “actually I’m a synth” lie with Shaun, but knowing Deacon I’m guessing it’s to prepare him for the eventual realization that he’s a synth himself.

[idk when this dialogue triggers, possibly also in radiation] “If I keep tromping around here, guess there won’t be any little Deacons scurrying around in the future.” I really hope this isn’t a joke and he still has hope of being a father. He’s obviously not interested in the player character, but that doesn’t mean he’s ruled out remarriage. He’s been a Railroad agent for over fourteen years, so he probably feels like he’s running out of time.

[steampunkforever]

I think we all knew the Weird Al movie was going to be good, but going into the film blind I didn't realize HOW good it was going to be. That's because Weird: The Al Yankovic Story isn't just a movie, it's a parody movie. Of course it is! And naturally it's good.

There are so many good bits in this movie. I don't want to spoil them, but suffice to say that despite all the odds, a film that opens with "A Funny or Die production" and "A Roku Original Movie" manages to be fantastic. The secret ingredient is simply the wacky (dare I say weird?) energy of a certain Al Yankovic.

The movie riffs on the overplayed cliches of music biopic films, crafting a counterfactual narrative involving Pablo Escobar, Madonna, and a host of other famous people played by completely different people. In fact one of the film's whole bits is putting big names in the roles of historic icons. Rainn Wilson plays Doctor Demento. Demitri Martin plays Tiny Tim. David Dastmalchian play's John Deacon of Queen. It's incredible, and it just never stops. The actual guys from DEVO are there, apparently.

Of course the film's goofy. You don't need me to tell you this. Just go watch the movie.

[alec4hardy]

The psychic Steve Connelly really added a bit of mystical element to the show, I've seen many says "What's the point of that psychic guy?" Well, many fiction enjoy writing about overlooked prophets.

However, this character's main purpose seems to extend beyond that. Besides reinforcing the narrative themes of " the killer is among us" and " the truth will shatter relationships" he also indirectly reflects the other characters' states of mind—people often turn to the supernatural when they’re desperate.

The show hinted that he is a fraud. (I know Chibnall once said this is an open plot, but hear me out ):

He speaks with uncertainty most of the time, relying on "cold reading" (commonly used by mediums). For example, he mentions "names with the letters R or S" (take a look at the characters list; everyone fits that description) and "playing the piano" (which he even got wrong). Hardy confronts him, this is a seaside town, there are boats everywhere; 'About boats' is just a lucky guess.

The only time he speaks with certainty is when he says, "She says she forgives you about the pendant."

But we later learn that Hardy didn't need to be "forgiven" at all, because it wasn't his fault. Connelly must have looked up news about Sandbrook beforehand, leading him to mistakenly believe this was a solid fact.

Interestingly, Hardy himself should know this deep down than anyone. Logically, he shouldn't just never believe these supernatural things from the start; after this line, he should feel very certain that Connelly is a fraud.

However, after Hardy falls at the end of S01E06, after Hardy collapses while chasing the suspect, his heart problem becomes apparent, and he is about to be reassigned. This is when he calls to meet the psychic.

Either he was genuinely so disoriented that he started to believe his own lie, that the pendant incident was actually his fault, or he was truly at his wit’s end...

I've always wanted to discuss faith in this show.

Although it's called Broadchurch and there is indeed a church, it seems that the only character who practices religion is Beth's mother, Liz, who wears a cross necklace and is a church deacon. There don't seem to be others.

In S01E04, Joe comments on Jack, saying, "I didn't know he was religious." to which Miller retorts, "Didn't know we were."

Later, in a conversation with Alec Hardy and Ellie Miller, we learn that people here might go to church for weddings and funerals, and attend Midnight Mass on Easter, primarily for Easter egg hunts. But people don't really believe in it, so it's a very fragile and easily broken thing.

Mark in his anger and sadness exclaim: "Your God left my son for dead!"

In a deleted scene, even Tom provocatively says to Paul, "Won't God protect you?"

Interestingly, in S01E04, one morning Joe suddenly says he wants to take the kids to church; if you think about it seriously, I find it definitely suspicious.

As for whether Alec Hardy believes, Ellie Miller once asked him, and he made a joke, clearly indicating he doesn't.

However, we can infer from what Alec Hardy's mother says, "God will put you in the right place." that she likely believes, so we can assume young Hardy was influenced by that.

I think he might have believed at one point, but at some moment that faith let him down, perhaps because of his mother's death.

In the official novel, there's a passage:

‘You have no concept of faith, do you?’ says Coates. ‘I didn’t muscle in. People turned to me. Straight away. People who wouldn’t normally even think about religion. They asked me to speak. They asked me to listen. They needed me. And you know why? Because there was a fear that you couldn’t address, a gap you couldn’t plug. Because all you have is suspicion, and an urge to blame whoever’s in closest proximity.’ Hardy folds his arms against the tirade. ‘Look, you can accuse me, you can take samples, you can belittle who I was in the past. But you don’t get to belittle my faith, just because you have none. People need hope right now, and they’re certainly not getting it from you.’

He waits for Hardy’s reaction like he’s expecting some kind of conversion. Hardy keeps his arms folded and his mouth closed. He will not give Coates the satisfaction of knowing how shaken he is.

The words echo in his head for the rest of the afternoon. It is not true that he has no concept of faith. He has always believed in evidence and procedure. But where do you go if they fail you, as they are now? What happens then?

If Hardy were a different sort of man, he would pray for a miracle.

Hardy actually has his beliefs, but some things just can't be undone.

We often say that Alec Hardy is emotional, while Ellie Miller is evidence-driven (like her keen awareness of the the wood floor in S2) (Millardy is the best team!)

Alec Hardy's investigative process is filled with intuition and emotion — he often perceives through feelings and drives the case forward with emotions, making suspects anxious until they slip up.

So to say he completely disbelieves such things isn't entirely accurate; he literally sought out a psychic for help.

Here's a little detail — he never outright says the psychic is a fraud — even though, as previously mentioned, he should be the one most aware of this.

The phrasing is interesting; he tells the psychic, "I have to find this killer and prove my case in court. I deal with facts. All you're giving her is fantasy."

Because evidence is incredibly important. Sandbrook nearly failed because of the lost of the pendant, and in S2, evidence was deemed invalid one after another, reinforcing this point.

Ultimately, everyone did things that exceeded their beliefs: Paul threatened the psychic and participated in Joe's exile, removing his priest's collar;

Thus, the true Broad Church is revealed at this moment: it's the people, it's the community.

I know many viewers are deeply frustrated with the so-called courtroom plot in Season 2, which can be said to be completely fake; it is both important and unimportant. This courtroom is not real; it serves more of a dramatic purpose (the entire region exists within Thomas Hardy's fictional country).

The trial is not just about Joe; it's about the entire community. In the end, the result does not follow the court's decision — Joe is still expelled from the community regardless. This means that if you believe in "Broadchurch," you will find that what truly matters is not the court, but rather the "the wrathful God of Broadchurch."(There used to be a post, but it has been lost. Here is the screenshot:

Court result? The court's verdict will disappoint everyone, while people's connections and separations, love and hate, community and life, the past, present and future are what truly, truly matter.

At the end of S3, as Paul prepares to leave, the Broadchurch's church will be gone, but the broader "church" still exists among the people.

The last time they gathered like this was during the S2 trial.

I like seeing Hardy there too; the last time he came to church, he was filled with scepticism, sitting alone at the back, with his fake wife in front of him.

But this time, it's pure, with no agenda; people are just here to listen to Paul speak. Daisy sits beside Hardy, children are with their parents.

Paul quotes from Hebrews: "Let us consider how we may spur one another on, toward love and good deeds, not giving up meeting together, as some are in the habit of doing. But encouraging one another."

[ziracona]

Days Gone is such a game. Characters all get their own story arc that has fuckall to do with you. Things are happening off the walls. You think your dead wife is an ideal but then it turns out she’s not dead and also incredibly dark and one of the best characters in the game. There’s a puppy. You get an apocalypse little girl and it goes insanely off track. O’Brian is my favorite supporting cast in years—usually he’d be cast as a sleeper antagonist but the game just acts like a story instead of committee based narrative so he’s just some guy doing his best and your weirdly best ally. You get tied up and tortured with a blowtorch. The zombies are the best written ones I’ve seen. The first time you get near a screamer that hasn’t noticed you and just hear a woman out there singing to herself you go a little crazy. Deacon has a string of the worst days possible for four months. The antagonists are really well constructed because sans the first they’re not pushed or high drama or tragedy they’re just shitheads who did the bad thing the first day it got slightly hard and it’s so real. The entire plot is tied from the opening scene and about the impact of small choices to do the right thing or wrong thing, even when it seemed pointless. It’s one of the most novel games of all time. It won a game writing award and deserved it. The music that plays for hordes has left a scar on my psyche. Addie is so hot. It constantly subverts story structure and I lived for that. Deacon’s a benevolent sexist and everyone including the game make fun of him for it but people also go ‘whatever though’ bc that’s the worst thing about him and it’s really funny. Sarah is a character of all time. Deac goes through enough character development to kill a man twice in 3 days. The visual storytelling is on point. The OST is god tier. Camp guitarist slaps. The MC literally defined by no trait more than being a wife guy. It’s set on Oregon.

[caw4brandon]

WWDITS: Demystifying The Supernatural

It would be a crime to say < What We Do In The Shadows > is just a mockumentary about Vampires. In [Documentaries Part 1] I touched on how WWDITS both references and makes fun of the library of Vampire shows and movies. The lore about them and the secret society of the other monsters that lurks in the night.

Today, I want to cover how < What We Do In The Shadows: The Series > demystifies the idea of the world of the supernatural. But before that, let's talk vampires.

- Hope and Compassion is Gone -

When you Sold Out your Dream to the World

A crew of documentary cameramen has been granted access to a highly secretive society. They wore crucifixes and were guaranteed protection by the subjects.

In an undisclosed location in Staten Island. We follow Guillermo de la Cruz. Familiar of the vampire; Nandor The Relentless with married couple; Laszlo Cravensworth and Nadja of Antipaxos as well as Colin Robinson.

The crew documents the lives and hijinks of the Vampires. Watching as situations unfold. Revealing the many secrets of this once secretive and dark society of the supernatural.

The series is based on the world of the film. With cameos of vampires from other popular shows as well as the original trio in the movie. Viago, Deacon and Vladislav.

- This is My Hunting Ground -

Aside from showing the established world of the film. WWDITS introduces us to an ever expanding world of the universe in a natural way. The show introduces us to the Witches, Trolls, Werewolves, Zombies, Ghosts and more. Honoring their lore and tying their interactions loosely as a part of this dark community.

Such as Laszlo's cursed hat being tied to a witch, Colin dealing with an online troll being a real troll and the werewolves being in a relationship with a human who also has a vampire lover. Twilight style~ Each tie in is not just a fun cameo, but it also brings the other dark beings to life in this ever expanding world of creatures.

The world also introduces a new concept. The Energy Vampire via Colin Robinson. Without going into spoilers, Colin's breed looks human and shares a fraction of the strength found in vampires but bares no weakness as of yet. Energy Vampires feed by boring and enraging its victims. Thus, sapping the energy of the person.

What the show does brilliantly is showing the believability of this new breed. Colin feels like an actual person who existed and can actually be a threat if he wants too. His ability to selfishly make vampires and humans bored or enraged makes him a frighteningly real creature that humans have actually met in real life.

- My Tummy Feels Weird -

From a narrative perspective, WWDITS provides several different arcs for the characters respectively. One highlight that I'd like to mention is Guillermo's development as a familiar and as a person.

Over the first season, he went through this one-sided admiration and blind servitude towards his master to charting out a big twist of his real identity. The show displays the unglamorous side of his duty as a servant and the unfairness of the power dynamic.

For every familiar, their servanthood is paid with the promise of immortality and Guillermo is no different. At a young age, Guillermo dreamed of being a vampire but he is often mistreated or is ignored when he pressed the request to Nandor.

The show also displays a deeply rooted sadness through the vampires. For being creatures of immortality. All they ever do is distract themselves with killing, sex and fun. When left alone to their own devices, the vampires are hopelessly directionless.

The show also touches on the topic of how the old ways just don't fit in with everyone anymore. Such is with Nandor's problem solving skills via killing and total conquest or how the vampires as a whole have gotten soft with how they hunt.

On a progressive note, the show never openly declares the characters as queer or any of the sort. Despite being married. Laszlo and Nadja are open to being involved with other people or other vampires sexually.

The show displays the act of debauchery and cheating at its finest with shameless pride but also strengthens the idea of loyalty and love.

Nandor for example, used to own 37 wives and husbands but is actively looking for a true partner who cares for him. As the season progresses, we see that he actually cares about Guillermo as master and as a friend. Nandor's action could suggest that he wishes to not fulfill Guillermo's promise to save him from the torment of the curse.

What the show does well is, it breaks the mystique of the vampires as a bunch of incompetent idiots with no drive. Thus, becoming sloppy, outdated and all too roundabout about things that is both infuriating but charmingly hilarious.

- They have No Use for Your Song -

I gotta say though, for a show that mocks the existence of these creatures. WWDITS is a fun trip through and through. It adds to the development of this community but makes the darkness a lot more silly with how its subjects are down to their last braincell.

None of the vampires are good at keeping this world a secret and in fact, the idea that they would allow a documentary crew to follow them is a fallacy itself. Still, there's a certain charm to how they interact with each other and to the "crew".

It felt like seeing a dysfunctional and fun band of mates just taking the piss out of each other but is also being the most loyal helpers in times of crisis.

There is something for anyone who is interested in this show of the macabre in a critical but fun way and with 5 seasons strong. They don't seem to be slowing down anytime soon. But be warned;

They're Dead and Out of This World~

[datura-tea]

the most fridged woman poll is making me Think and my thoughts are that it's so sad that all these women (16!! with 8 from fallout 4 alone) had to die to add tragedy, whether to their significant other's backstory (carla boone, catherine, lucy maccready) or to the narrative as a whole (glory, sarah lyons, vera keyes)

barring the ones we meet in game before they die, we know almost nothing about them. we don't know their wants, their dreams. we don't even know what most of them look like! and what is more terrible is that a lot of them - most of the ones from fallout 4, let's be honest - have no impact on the game's story or their significant other's character arc. who here knows deacon's wife's name off the top of their head?

these women are just a footnote, an aside. the writers really said "btw, she died and that's why he's sad and angry :(" and it's so frustrating and so damning for the series as a whole. it sucks here!!!!

[softlyapocalytpic]

I feel like I remember a post going around a while ago about the inherent tragedy of Fallout 4 and the anti-climax that is Finding Shaun and- I just can’t stop thinking about it. I can’t.

(Going under a cut because this post got away from me LMAO)

It’s a tragedy. Your son is a cold horrific monster of a man who looks at people as experiments over being people. He’s egotistical to the point of thinking of himself as somehow larger than life- not quite godly, but something more adjacent to that- because of his control over life. *Because of how they groomed him to be. He was never allowed to be a “normal” kid. The Shaun we meet is doomed, hopeless, and it’s… heartbreaking. That’s your son and.

And he’s dead. He dies no matter what faction you choose. There’s no chance for true reconciliation.

(*There’s something to say about the parallels between Shaun and Maxson as characters that I’ve talked about to others in the past but still sticks with me. Not the post for it necessarily, but I wanted to mention it.)

For me personally, the ending of Fallout 4 wasn’t victorious, it was hollow. Now, part of that is definitely influenced by what I was going through at the time, but it has stuck with me how the only lights of hope I felt were… well it was Deacon. He made it less empty. Made it feel like it meant something good.

I didn’t like pushing the button though. I thought about all the shit that could’ve taken from Institute and used for the wasteland for something good. Thought about Shaun. Thought about how I couldn’t truly say goodbye to him. Felt like I was playing out the motions, and that fucking slideshow did nothing to help the hollowness.

It’s not victorious. But then we keep going anyway. There is still work to be done. And there’s companions to keep you company, to make the world a little brighter.

And Jesus Christ I love that fucking game. I love the sandbox and I love the way that when it hits? It fucking hits.

And guess what! Fallout 3? Fallout 76? Also fucking tragedies.

Sure, Broken Steel brings the LW back from the dead, but Lone died even if Lone isn’t “dead”. The slideshow still plays. You wake up and suddenly aren’t dead, but you should be. You should be. You, a nineteen year old kid were tasked with being a martyr. Sarah is pissed off when you ask her to do it. It should be you in the eyes of the narrative. You should be the one bearing the weight of martyrdom. Follow in your Father’s footsteps.

Fallout 76? I… your nuking the Appalachia repeatedly. Everything is gone by 2277. The bright future meant to rejuvenate the Wasteland ends up destroying it. Idfk what else there is to say on that front.

And these are just… the main Bethesda titles. 1, 2, and NV are arguably in the same boat but there’s a bit more in the sense that… well for those ones it’s much more about the “you’ve won, but at what cost?”. In the original Fallout, and let’s say you take the (I think more popular route) of talking to the Master rather than fighting him: you watch someone realize the weight of the atrocities they’ve committed, realize they had no purpose, and then kill himself and everyone there after you personally have gone through actually psychic hell to approach him. Then, you get kicked out of your only home you’ve ever known!

Fallout 2? You home is decimated, your people traumatized, and you must rebuild it from the ground up. You defeated the Enclave, but they took something from you that can’t be replaced or forgotten.

New Vegas… god there’s so much there and there’s another point I want to make to this post- make I can make it feed into this but- the Mojave gets ravaged by war. No matter who wins, atrocities will continue to have been done and to be committed. There’s deadly forces on the horizon who don’t give a SHIT about this petty war and the fucking dumb politics of these major powers. It will hit any faction hard and unmercifully. And there was still a war that consumed an entire land. So companion has a truly “happy” end. They’re all scarred and broken and have to make peace with the path they’ve chosen. People win, but they don’t win, y’know?

And I wish- as much as I love these tragedies- I wish there was more… hope. I wish that the world of Fallout allowed the brightness to shine through a little brighter. To allow the people who try to rebuild into something new to be more successful, to be allowed to take the narrative into their hands, bECAUSE HOLY FUCK DOES THIS DARK ASS WORLD HAVE SO MUCH MORE HOPE THEN ITS EVER GIVEN CREDIT FOR.

Begin Again is a rallying cry for me. The end of Lonesome Road, if you spare Ulysses, is a rebellion against the fucking cycle of violence and hatred. You want to BUILD something. Create rather than just regurgitate the old world into something more twisted than it’s corpse.

Surviving the purifier? Rebelling against the notion that you must die, that you must be a martyr, taking your life into your own hands? Watching a source of clean water be handed out for free and spread across the Wastes? Fucking! Breathing new life into Harold and so he breathes new life into the Earth?

Living even though you’ve lost all your family? Getting a new one in the people who follow you? Helping people rebuild the Commonwealth after it’s been terrorized and destroyed? Leaving this world stronger and safer then when you came into it?

Honestly- this post got away from me. @persephotea got me in my Fallout 4 thoughts (of which I have so many and they’re always trying to burst out of me) and I got to thinking about what I try to write about in my fics. Hope. Hope, hope, hope.

I choose a kinder Fallout world not because I’m trying to soften the edges, but because I want to believe that humanity has such an ability to be kind if it chooses to. That a world ravaged by destruction would CHOOSE kindness and growth. That despite all the darkness and selfishness, people would choose to Begin Again.

It’s all a fucking tragedy, but that’s only if the cycle continues. We can change it. We can end it. Just gotta choose to do it.

If you got this far, thank you for reading my tired thoughts and please please please share yours. I want to hear your thoughts so bad. Okay okay, I’ll post now.

[cdsmusicblog]

The Dream and Nightmare of the American Rural South

Hello, for my end-of-semester project I would like to explore how Ethel Cain, in her album “Preacher’s Daughter”, both romanticizes and criticizes southern America.

My primary source will be the album and its visuals as well as interviews/social media posts from Hayden Anhedönia herself

Hayden Anhedönia is an American singer-songwriter under the stage name of Ethel Cain who independently released her album “Preacher’s Daughter” in 2022 under her own record label Daughters of Cain. She produced the album mostly by herself, with occasional help for some songs. As the daughter of a deacon from Florida, Hayden Anhedönia’s passion for music started with Christian music which then turned into the beginning of her musical career in 2017, 4 years after she left the church.

"Preacher’s Daughter" is a concept album and a mix of a lot of different genres like Americana, folk, ethereal wave, Gothic country, ambient songs, and more. It depicts the journey of the fictional character Ethel Cain, the daughter of a preacher, whose life is briefly inspired by Hayden Anhedönia’s own. It explores harsh themes such as family and religious trauma, sexual abuse, and violence.

The story of the tragic heroine Ethel Cain begins in 1991 in the fictional city of Shady Grove in Alabama and throughout the album, we follow Ethel Cain’s journey to the West, from her home state Alabama to California, as Hayden Anhedönia sings about Ethel's current life and her past. We learn about Ethel’s life before she ran away through the first six tracks of the album. We meet her first love, Willoughby Tucker, who left town before the story starts, then her new partner, a violent, trouble-causing man who is killed by the police during a bank robbery. We also learn about her family trauma and the sexual abuse she was subjected to by her father.

In the second part of the album, Ethel is on the road after running away from home and meets a man named Isaiah who offers her a ride to California during which they fall in love with each other. Right when we think Ethel has finally found peace, we quickly learn that things can, in fact, get worse. I won’t go into details but after arriving in California, Ethel suffers from violence and abuse at the hands of Isaiah who, as it turns out, is not a very good man. Ethel is killed by Isaiah in the 10th track “August Underground” and she finally gets to make peace with her past and rejoins her lover Willoughby in heaven after a last goodbye to her mother in the last three songs of the album. (These are all facts given by the singer herself during multiple interviews and on her social media)

This album may seem heavy and a bit odd at first glance, but I think it is really entertaining to live through the events at the same time as the main character experiences them, leaving us on the edge of our seat and never expecting what will come next. I also love getting to analyze the songs to understand the meaning behind each metaphor.

One of the things I love the most about this album is its eerie and gloomy visuals, depicting a typical small southern American town and its religious decors. We can feel how this entire album is both an ode and an elegy by Hayden Anhedönia to rural southern America where she is from. This is what I want to explore in my end-of-semester project through things like the production of the songs, the contrast between the American Dream and how life really is in the rural South, imagery (sublime vs haunting), the narrative (Ethel Cain’s story), themes of isolation and decay vs liberation, etc...

Here are two songs from the album if anyone wants to give them a listen to get an idea of the general mood :))