#Dead Wife is not limited to women who were wives at a certain point. it's an essence a state of non-being

[grassangel]

A more meh episode, thus I’m more crotchety about details? 🤷 Also, four episodes in and the fandom is getting on my nerves.

Anyway, my thoughts about Arachnids in the UK

Yeah

Another wlw wife! Surely that means there’ll be some mention of River in the future, right?

It’s fucking hilarious that Chibnall’s nabbed Moffat’s ghost wife thing from Sherlock. Ballsy move

Neat reuse of a dream crab prop.

Ryan considers Graham proper family now. 💕

Najia’s questions about Ryan and the Doctor’s relationship with Yaz. Yep, can confirm, all Asian mothers are Like That.

After three and a half scripts Chibs has finally gotten to know these characters and the dialogue flows a lot more smoothly.

Heeeey, nice mockery of Trump there

Probably the first story of the series so far that doesn’t feel like something is going to come back and bite the team in the arse. Hooray!

Ehhh

Chibnall nabbed Moffat’s ghost wife thing. It’s probably a trope now, but it felt... cheap. Inelegant. Voyeuristic. (Though yay for more Sharon D Clarke)

For a series that’s supposedly more educational, I was expecting the whole “arachnids can only reach a certain size before they suffocate/suffocate under their own weight” to crop up a lot sooner. (The size limit is like... the size of a small car or something? And even then that was around the time when there was more oxygen in the Earth’s atmosphere. Nowadays it’s just the size of a pet cat.)

Dialogue may have gotten smoother, but the moral preaching sure hasn’t. I like the gang have learned the Doctor’s opinions by now, but that moment felt a bit too highly spotlighted. 

Especially when shitty, profit-driven, capitalist practises that kill people IS RIGHT THERE. (Also a moment I was expecting to come sooner) 

I kind of almost would’ve liked shitty prop spiders? Though some of the spider faces were very cute

Hmm

Okay, so who out of Grace, Graham or Ryan plays piano? I need to know

Also... was there a purple sofa in the Vault? That feels exploitable 

I’ve been feeling uneasy about the fates of the gang since oh... since the brief descriptions of their personalities were released? And Yaz and Ryan’s reasons for joining the TARDIS full time (?) does not help that feeling.

And I’m really not liking the fact that Yaz left under the pretence of getting bread. That feels like a circumstance waiting to go wrong.

I wonder if the Doctor will enforce some kind of home time. Like after 10 adventures they need to spend a couple of weeks back home to absorb all that’s happened to them. I know Moffat was the one who really introduced the idea of part time companions, who went on adventures but returned home (which was a subtle theme in this episode), but given the losses the Doctor has suffered, it feels she should be a lot more cautious about allowing them to stay for long periods of time. 

Especially since it feels like, given the reaction of Yaz to returning only 30 minutes after they left, it might have been 3-4 weeks spent trying to get back to Sheffield. 

On the bright side, this does mean the return of TARDIS bedrooms, right? 

Also should we expect an answer to the question of how would a Muslim pray in the TARDIS?

Nah

That’s three dead wives so far. Two wlw, one black woman. If Chibnall were Moffat, there’d be EVISCERATION because of the amount of fridged women/lesbians. But it’s okay, because it’s Chibnall and we’re in the honeymoon phase 🙄

This episode really demonstrates how having three companions can be a bit of a juggle, especially with guest stars having to vie for screen time as well. There was a bit more about Yaz this episode, but the economy of what she got was still poor in comparison to Ryan and Graham. And we didn’t get much about Jade the very convenient scientist, or Yaz’s mum, Najia. (Please, two companions in the perfect number.)

Anti-ish I’ve seen too much 13/Rose shipping arguments this week and 13/Yasmin is near that same saturation point where I just Do Not Want. Like sure, ship what you ship, I’m not a fan of Doctor/Companion ships but it’s that thing where it’s the most popular ship and it’s everywhere and I’m Suffering.

[ibmiller]

Introduction

I began researching this topic out of ignorance. After being more or less snookered by Dr. Warren into giving a presentation, I chose one of the first topics that came to mind. I hope you will bear with me as I exhume a body of knowledge that has already had several postmortems: that of Dr. Watson's wife, or wives, depending on your inclination. I attempted to gather every scholarly article on the subject I could find, so that I wouldn't have to do all the research myself. The Interlibrary Loan Department in Swem Library hates me now, thanks to Dr. Warren.

We all know Watson's predilection for members of the opposite sex. He remarks on their beauty and dress an uncountable number of times throughout the canon. We know from him that his experience with women extends over "many nations and three separate continents." We know from Holmes that the fair sex is "Watson's department." I will review the various theories on how many wives Dr. Watson had, and bring you to what I believe is the most logical conclusion. It should be an interesting area for exploration. It is also an area, in my opinion, that has barely been tapped.

In 1944, Dorothy Sayers said:

There is a conspiracy afoot to provide Watson with as many wives as Henry VIII, but, however this may be, only one is ever mentioned by him and only one left any abiding memory in his heart.

Less devout scholars than Ms. Sayers wanted Watson to have multiple wives so much that they invented them for him. William S. Baring-Gould points out that Watson marries the American Constance Adams in Doyle's unpublished play "Angels of Darkness." In 1978, Hartley Nathan purportedly found Watson's will and testament in Toronto, Canada, proving that the good doctor had twin sons (Clarence and George) by his first wife Constance, a daughter (Gertrude) by his second wife Mary, and another daughter (Elsie) by his third wife, whose name we do not know.

Two-Wife Theories

In any case, it is certain that Watson had at least one wife. Mary Morstan is explicitly mentioned in several places throughout the canon, starting with "The Sign of the Four." In 1888, Mary Morstan walked into Dr. Watson's life and swept him off his feet. Watson writes:

She was a blonde young lady, small, dainty, well gloved, and dressed in the most perfect taste. There was, however, a plainness and simplicity about her costume which bore with it a suggestion of limited means. . . .Her face had neither regularity of feature nor beauty of complexion, but her expression was sweet and amiable, and her large blue eyes were singularly spiritual and sympathetic. In an experience of women which extends over many nations and three separate continents, I have never looked upon a face which gave a clearer promise of a refined and sensitive nature. (SIGN, pp. 11- 12).

Later in the narrative, Watson says of Mary:

My mind ran upon our late visitor -- her smiles, the deep rich tones of her voice, the strange mystery which overhung her life. If she were seventeen at the time of her father's disappearance she must be seven-and-twenty now -- a sweet age, when youth has lost its self-consciousness and become a little sobered by experience. So I sat and mused until such dangerous thoughts came into my head that I hurried away to my desk and plunged furiously into the latest treatise upon pathology (SIGN, p. 16).

The prospect that the Agra treasure might spoil his chances with Miss Morstan certainly weighed heavily on Dr. Watson's mind. So distracted was Watson that when Thaddeus Sholto bombarded him with trains of symptoms, the Doctor found himself prescribing strychnine in large doses as a sedative. It seems evident that Watson was in love.

At any rate, Watson married Miss Morstan soon after the conclusion to "The Sign of the Four." Watson was 35 and Mary 27 at the time their troth was plighted. The popular view is that Mary died in 1893 or 1894. Holmes rose from the dead in 1894 and took Watson's mind off his "sad bereavement" for awhile with some new adventures. This didn't last forever, as, according to S. C. Roberts, Watson remarried soon after the turn of the century. Holmes himself, in "The Blanched Soldier," remarks in January 1903 that Watson had "deserted him for a wife," so it seems evident that Watson remarried at least once. The identity of this second wife has been conjectured by Chris Morley and George Haynes to be Lady Frances Carfax, and by S. C. Roberts to be Violet de Merville (ILLU).

The fact that Watson married Miss Morstan is well-known and goes almost undisputed. Of course, nothing is so abhorrent to many Sherlockians than a plainly stated, obvious fact. Eminent Sherlockian scholar and author Rex Stout wrote an article entitled "Watson Was a Woman," which, if true, would of course preclude any wives.

On the other hand, there are those who contend that Watson had not two wives, but one. In an interesting twist to the Rex Stout theory, Dr. Robert Katz, in his toast to the Second Mrs. Watson at the 1996 BSI Dinner, held that there was only one Mrs. Watson. Katz's logic was that because Holmes was such an intolerable lodger because of his bad habits and his propensity for getting his roommates into danger, they left him after a short while. This posed a problem for the Literary Agent, who had great success with Holmes and Watson. The conflict was resolved by having several Dr. Watsons in succession, each of whom was married only once.

On the other hand, there are those who claim that our mutual friend had three or more wives. We'll ignore Rex Stout for the moment and concentrate instead on the one-wife and multi-wife theories.

One-Wife Theories

The fourteenth century English scholastic philosopher, William of Ockham, held that assumptions used to explain something must not be unnecessarily multiplied. This "shaving away of multiple assumptions" is known familiarly as "Ockham's Razor." A more simple way of stating the principle is that, all things being equal, the simplest explanation is usually the best. This is known in science as the Law of Parsimony. There are only a few published proponents of the one-wife theory, but they claim to have Ockham's razor on their side.

Jane Nightwork, in 1946, made the surprising claim that "Watson's second wife was actually his first wife; and there never was a third." Nightwork speculates that Watson and Mary had a "falling out" in 1894 due to Mary's success in her own dress-making business. Since divorce at this time was all but impossible, it is likely that Holmes was referring to Watson's separation rather than Mary's death when he said, "Work is the best antidote to sorrow, my dear Watson" in "The Empty House." According to Nightwork, when Holmes says, "The good Watson had at that time deserted me for a wife," he is referring to the happy reunion of John and Mary in 1902, when the couple decided to have another go at marriage. There is no need to assume that Mary died. This view was later supported by Christopher Morley.

H. W. Starr claimed that the "sad bereavement" doesn't refer to death, but is Watson's excuse to the reading public for moving back in with Holmes after violent marital disputes. Starr blames the switching of residences between Queen Anne St. and Baker St. on Watson's proclivity to go adventuring with Holmes, a habit which caused much marital strife for Watson. The couple finally reconciled in 1902 and left Holmes by himself.

Dan Warren claims that Mary is instead the victim of tuberculosis. Because she must spend so much time in a German health spa, Watson occasionally lives with Holmes. According to Warren, the "sad bereavement" mentioned by Holmes refers to the Watsons' miscarried child, an event which occurred more frequently among women with TB. How much of this has canonical support, I don't know, but it's a good theory, nonetheless. It might be what Doyle had intended all along, as his first wife Louise died after a thirteen-year battle with TB, and took many visits to Switzerland for her health.

Another bit of evidence for a single marriage lies in "The Dying Detective," which occurred, according to Watson, "in the second year of my married life." "The Dying Detective" wasn't published until 1913, eleven years after the presumed second marriage took place. It is evident that Watson had only been married once by 1913 or he would have said "the second year of his first marriage." As he was in his early sixties by in 1913, it is unlikely that he married again.

Three-Wife theories

There is some support for the claim that Watson had three wives. In "The Veiled Lodger," 1896, Watson says he has taken up separate lodgings. Harold Bell assumed that this referred to another marriage. I don't know if I believe him, but Trevor Hall points out that perhaps Watson was going through a mid-life crisis at this time. He was, after all, in his mid-forties. I think far greater evidence for a marriage lies in "The Five Orange Pips," which precedes "The Sign of the Four," and hence Mary Morstan, by a year.

In "The Five Orange Pips," Watson mentions that "My wife was on a visit to her mother's, and for a few days I was a dweller once more in my old quarters at Baker Street." However, in "The Sign of the Four," Mary states quite clearly that her mother was dead and that she had no relatives in England. The statement in "The Five Orange Pips" was later changed in light of this fact to refer to Mary's aunt rather than her mother, but keep in mind that this was a change made after the fact by editors, not by Watson. This instance gives rise to the theory that Watson had a wife in 1887, before he wedded Mary in 1888. A counter-argument is that "The Sign of the Four" is mentioned in "The Five Orange Pips" and therefore must have already occurred. I refuse to admit the late Gavin Brend's assertion that Watson had messy hand-writing or simply had his dates wrong. This happened only three times that I can tell -- once in "Wisteria Lodge," once in "The Red-Headed League," and once elsewhere in "The Sign of the Four." I think it more likely that Watson included the title for publicity reasons.

Four-Wife Theories

In the extreme case, Watson hypothetically could have had at least 4 marriages:

1887 - A short marriage to someone unknown. (FIVE) 1888 - Watson weds Mary Morstan (SIGN) 1896 - Watson takes up separate quarters (VEIL) 1902 - Watson deserts Holmes for a wife (BLAN)

Five-Wife Theories

If we're to trust Baring-Gould about "Angels of Darkness," Watson had a fifth wife in the mid-1880's named Constance Adams. Trevor Hall supports the five- wife theory, citing Watson's wives as Constance Adams, Miss X, Mary Morstan, Miss Y, and Miss Z.

Six-Wife Theories

In his review of the unpublished play "Angels of Darkness," Harlan Umansky claims that the play ends with Watson being engaged to Lucy Ferrier at the deathbed request of John Ferrier. Is Lucy Ferrier Miss X? Or should we add her to the list, making six short-lived wives for Dr. Watson? That is open to speculation, since, according to the rumor mill, the plot of "Angels of Darkness" directly contradicts that of "A Study in Scarlet"--it has Watson working in San Francisco and doesn't involve Holmes at all. It would be nice if the six-wife theory were correct--it would fulfill Ms. Sayers' prophesy of Watson having as many wives as Henry VIII.

Seven-Wife Theories

A case could be made that Watson had seven wives if you juggle the dates around in "The Sign of the Four," "The Five Orange Pips," and "A Scandal in Bohemia." We'll call this mysterious lady Miss Q. The evidence for her existence is flimsy at best, however, so I won't go into it.

Conclusions

Now, given the fact that Watson probably couldn't have divorced any of his wives by the laws in England at the time, this means, unless Watson was a bigamist as some have suggested, that all but the last of his wives must have died, and none of them under circumstances Watson sees fit to describe to the reader. In fact, Miss Q, Miss X, and Miss Y must have died after no more than a year of marriage--Miss Q and Miss X because Watson remarried the next year, and Miss Y because Watson was living back in his old quarters in Baker Street by 1897 (ABBE).

There are two theories we can dismiss out of hand. The first is that Dr. Watson was a deadbeat addicted to gambling.

Look at the facts. Watson is always skipping out on his practice to run off with Holmes. Watson spent a summer at "Shoscombe Old Place" of horseracing fame. He frequently spends half his pension check at the races. Holmes kept Watson's checkbook locked in his desk drawer. Is it any surprise to learn that Watson would be in dire financial straits? Could he have, for instance, had a system of marrying rich women who were at death's door, taken out huge life insurance policies on them, and then merely wait for them to pass on in order to collect and support his gambling habit? Given what other information we have about Dr. Watson's personality, my answer must be "Not bloody likely."

The second dubious explanation is that Watson was a serial killer.

How hard would it be for a doctor to procure poisons or administer deadly infections? Watson does admit to having "another set of vices" in "A Study in Scarlet"--could he be referring to a murderous streak a mile wide? This would make Watson one of the most diabolical, cunning, and daring killers of all time, to stay so brazenly close to the world's greatest detective and yet defy discovery at every turn. One would surmise that Holmes would get suspicious by the fourth or fifth time he was asked to present a ring as the best man.

Or could it be simply that because Watson, as a doctor, came into more frequent contact with women of frail health, he was hence more likely to marry such women? I tend to support this position. Cases could, and have, been made that Watson had as many as seven wives, but I tend to think he had only two: Mary Morstan and the Miss Z of 1903. It is now time to use Ockham's razor to cut through the extraneous theories. There are two strong canonical references to Dr. Watson's wives--Mary Morstan and Miss Z of 1903. The inference that these are one and the same woman is a stretch, and I believe that those who have claimed to have Ockham's razor on their side by saying that Watson had only one wife are misinterpreting the nature of parsimony. 'One' is not necessarily a simpler number than 'Two' when 'Two' makes more sense. In order to play The Game, we must accept what Watson says at face value unless he is clearly, undeniably wrong.

References

Baesch, J. Personal Communication. 20 August, 1997.

Baring-Gould, W. S. (1962). Sherlock Holmes of Baker Street.

Brend, G. (1951). My Dear Holmes.

Bunson, M. E. (1994). Encyclopedia Sherlockiana.

Doyle, A. C. (1993). The Sign of the Four. New York: Oxford University Press.

Fink, J. (1992). The marital hoax of John H. Watson. The Baker Street Journal, 42(2), 102-105.

Fitz, R. (1944). A Belated Eulogy: To John H. Watson, M.D., in Profile by Gaslight, Edgar W. Smith (Ed.), Simon and Schuster: New York.

Hall, T. (1971). The Late Mr. Sherlock Holmes.

Katz, R. (1996). To the Second Mrs. Watson. The Baker Street Journal, 46(1), 9-10.

Moriarity, D. Personal Communication. August, 1997.

Morley, C. (1934). Doctor Watson's Secret, in Rothman, S. (Ed.): The Standard Doyle Company, 1990.

Nathan, H. (1978). John H. Watson, M.D. Discovered at Last. The Baker Street Journal, 28(4), 204-213.

Nguyen, H. Personal Communication. 22 August, 1997.

Nightwork, J. (1946). Watson à la Mode. The Baker Street Journal, 1(1), 15- 20.

Redmond, C. (1984). In Bed With Sherlock Holmes.

Roberts, S. C. (1953). Holmes & Watson, New York: Otto Penzler's Sherlock Holmes Library.

Starr, H. W. (1946). Some New Light on Watson. The Baker Street Journal, 1(1), 55-63.

Stout, R. (1944). Watson Was a Woman, in Profile by Gaslight, Edgar W. Smith (Ed.), Simon and Schuster: New York.

Warren, D. C. (1991). Mary, the One and Only. The Baker Street Journal, 41(1), 21-24.

Wigglesworth, B. (1947). Many Nations and Three Separate Continents.The Baker Street Journal, 2(3), 273-278.

[clairecrouch-blog]

Morsmordre

Campsite near the Quidditch Trillenium Stadium, Dartmoor, Devon.

Quidditch World Cup Final, 18 August 1994

  Yes. Oh, fuck, yes

I think, turning the wand in my hands.

It’s been too fucking long since I was allowed to have one, and I just have to say it, I can’t wait to try it.

I know exactly what I want to do because, even if being finally free, for the first time in so much time, is filling me with a good dose of euphoria, there’s something that I’m not willing to tolerate.

The little drama that my former ‘friends’ have set up to frighten the mudbloods may have scared the Ministry, but it made me want to poke my eyes out not to be forced to look at such a mess.

I’m pissed off, I can feel rage crawling under my skin in short bursts of adrenaline, and at the same time I feel fine.

Fucking alive.

That fucking moment. That in which I felt the Imperius loosening its grip, frayed by the incessant work of my will, that has corroded it piece by piece after many years in which its icy fingers had taken everything away, leaving me as a fucking puppet in my father’s hands.

Dad. You damn bastard.

You’ll pay for this, you’ll pay for every single day in which I was forced to live a half-life.

And I’ll make sure it will be long and painful.

That fucking moment.

That in which I opened my eyes as from a long dreamless sleep, and around me there was the shouting crowd, a noise that hurt my ears, because I’m used to silence.

There aren’t any noises in our house, it’s a fucking mausoleum, a tomb where my father would have wanted to bury me forever.

That was definitely not what my mother wanted,when she begged him to get me out of Azkaban, because what good is saving someone’s life just to condemn them to another imprisonment, devoid of any will?

Just the books. He left me just those, and not even all of them.

I believe he enjoyed doling them out to me, and I suspect the same sadism that runs through my veins also pumps in his, although in a completely different way.

I’ve never given myself a limit, my father imposed too many of them upon himself, but I think that at a certain point perversion must find its way out.

And dad isn’t exactly the kind of guy who would pay a whore just to rage against her.

No, he’s a marvel of repression, in his vision, which is no less twisted and obsessive than mine, everything that isn’t ‘normal’ is to be deleted.

I, for one, and he has always looked at me as a mistake which he didn’t know how to fix.

In that moment I wasn’t really aware of it, it was a weird sensation, I was there but at the same time I was elsewhere, as if any instinct that had ever driven my life had been brutally extinguished.

But now, looking back, I can see how I was, and I see it with hurting clarity.

Even the house elf pitied me, I remember how she asked my father to grant me a prize

Master Barty, the young master is behaving, please, let him go to the Quidditch World Cup

as if I were a retarded child who managed, after a thousand efforts, to make a ten-piece jigsaw puzzle.

That fucking moment.

That in which I saw a wand sticking out of the pocket of a boy who was sitting in front of me, in the Top Box of the stadium, and I realized that there was nothing to hold my hand back.

And now I’m holding that wand in my fist, and I’m feeling so fucking myself that it’s almost scary.

I breathe in deeply.

Calm down, Crouch. Relax.

Just think rationally, we don’t want to get back to the old man’s house, do we?

No. Definitely not.

Let’s use our heads, then.

But I must do something, I can’t let those hooded bastards, with their decorated masks, take credit for all this mess that broke out.

They haven’t done anything, all these years, they just got back to their nice fucking jobs, while I was left to rot, first in Azkaban, and then in my father’s house.

They kept on screwing their nice fucking wives, while I’ve spent all these years without seeing a woman even from afar.

And even if I had seen a woman, I wouldn’t have been able to do anything.

I was nineteen when dad threw me in Azkaban.

Now I’m thirty

no, thirty-one, don’t you remember? You turned thirty-one in April

and when I think that my father practically fucked up the best years of my life, I also think that it won’t be enough for me to kill him just once.

I look around, only a pile of ashes and burnt wood remains of all the colourful tents that crammed the campsite, and the burning smell takes my breath away, but it’s fine.

I haven’t been out for too long, any feeling different from the oppressive air of my room is like drinking a sip of water in a hot sunny day.  

I haven’t been under the sun for years, dad wouldn’t even let me go in the garden, and when I look at myself in the mirror I see a pale ghost, with almost no blood in his veins.

But now I feel it, my blood, pumping like crazy, and I breathe in again, as I take big steps among the debris, as if all of this belonged to me.

I kick a pile of scorched wood, just for the sake of it.

Because now I can.

And I instinctively draw my wand, pointing it towards the sky, as I used to do back in the old days, as I haven’t done for so long.

“Morsmordre!” I shout, and it’s absurd, feeling the wand feebly shaking in my fingers, while a flash of green light explodes in the darkness, shading the night with a ghostly and unsettling glare.

Jesus Christ.

It’s beautiful.

The Mark. I haven’t seen it for years, and I linger charmed for an instant, peering its sinuous shape twisting and leaving an evanescent trail of green smoke.

My Lord.

I will be forever faithful. Forever

I think, with an overpowering feeling of pride, because I haven’t denied him.

I didn’t hide, I fought.

I lost, and I paid the ultimate price.

And my thoughts go out to those who are still in jail, to Bella, to Rodolphus, and Rabastan, and to all the others, and I don’t even know if they’re still alive.

I felt guilty, when my mother took me out of there.

My instinct for survival yelled to me to put as many miles between me and that cursed place as possible, but the thought of all of them has been digging inside me like a worm.

That’s why the Dark Mark now stands out as a warning over the ruins of this night that should have been the highest celebration of peace, love, and fraternity.

My ass. You have failed, dad, with all your speeches on the necessity to cooperate, on the need to cement the links between wizards of different countries.

You have failed, because man is, by nature, an aggressive animal, and he will always find a good reason to take down his neighbour.

The Mark is here to remind my so-called ‘friends’ that there is still someone who’s not afraid.

None of them has been through what I’ve been through, and yet I am here, and I want them to know that I intend to find a way to bring the Dark Lord back.

I know that he’s not dead.

There are the Horcruxes, he cannot die.

True, not everyone knew about the artifacts in which Lord Voldemort had sealed parts of his soul.

On the contrary, just a few of us knew, only those of the inner circle, but not everyone has ended up in Azkaban.

Malfoy, for example. He’s still out there, I know because dad spoke about him a couple of times, he has kept his place at the Ministry.

If I had Malfoy on my hands I’d claw his eyes out and shove them where the sun doesn’t shine, and he should be grateful that I wouldn’t touch his wife even with someone else’s cock.

I’ve always fucking hated Narcissa, so different from Bella, so disgustingly involved in her role of stage mommy.

I remember how she carried that shrieking little monster around, displaying him as if he were a gemstone.

What I saw, when I looked at illustrious little Draco Malfoy, was just a twenty-inch thingy, drooling all over himself and constantly whining.

I don’t like children.

I’m not saying that I wouldn’t want any kids, but certainly I wouldn’t want to deal with them in their first years.

That’s women’s business, after all.

I don’t know exactly what to do, now that the Mark has been conjured, but one thing is for sure.

I can’t stay here, and all of a sudden I hear a noise on my left, I turn and I see him.

A young boy, staring at me.

He looks dizzy, as if he had just come to his senses, but he saw me, he saw my face very well.

Kill him.

I don’t want to say some bullshit, but he looks like the same kid I stole the wand to, in the Top Box.

Maybe.

Kill him.

I don’t lack the inclination, christ, I haven’t used the Avada Kedavra for ages, and for a moment I get carried away.

I move a few steps towards him, intent on taking him out, just for the sake of being free again.

I know that I shouldn’t, the Dark Lord has never wished for the killing of other wizards, but as far as I’m concerned, this little prick could even be a muggle-born.

Plus, don’t I deserve it, after so many years?

I’m still holding the wand in my hand, when I hear voices approaching, along with the crackles of Stunning spells and magic shields.

No, change of plan.

Let’s pull up stakes, and quickly, too.

And that’s what I do, I turn around and I go, also pretty fast because, obviously, I couldn’t expect that conjuring the Dark Mark after almost fifteen years wouldn’t have alerted the Aurors.

It’s not a problem, there’s a wood nearby, and it looks perfect to disappear, and I’ve got a wand.

I can apparate wherever I like.

Do you still remember how to do it?

I crawl in the leafy shadows of the trees, while I think about the fact that I’ve got nowhere to go.

I know that I want to look for my lord, but I have no idea as to his whereabouts.

The truth is that I don’t have half a galleon in my pockets, even if I think I could make do, one way or another.

In short, being free is enough, then I’ll think about the rest.

Then hurry up and get away from here, fuck, wake up, don’t you realize that if they find you, it will be Azkaban again?

But I can’t even finish this thought.

They have noticed that something is moving, and a sequence of flashes starts raining on me, basically from every direction.

I raise a shield, but it’s weak, because in the meantime I’m running as if the devil were chasing me.

I can’t disapparate, it’s too dangerous in a situation like this.

Run, Crouch, fuck, don’t let them find you

I think, dodging a Stunning spell that whistles beside my ear, and a second, just a few inches from my arm.

And the third one nails me, and I just can think

God fucking damn it

and then everything goes dark.

  “Barty.”

I can’t believe it. Fuck.

Not you.

Not again.

But when I open my eyes, there he is, his goddamn face, with that goddamn expression of eternal disappointment.

There is nothing, in him, that I don’t hate.

Those ridiculous little moustache, that constant trembling of his hands, his blank eyes, his wrinkled skin, with that yellowish and vaguely nauseating colour.

I look around, and I’m in my room again.

My prison.

Maybe someone would say that it’s better than Azkaban, maybe it really is, at least there are no Dementors.

But the truth is that I have failed, that I only had one possibility, and I screwed it up.

I immediately realize that something’s missing.

My books have disappeared, , the bookshelf is empty, and I can’t see Winky’s trembling and huddled figure anywhere.

“Where...Where’s the elf?” I mutter, slightly dazed.

I’ve got the Imperius on me again, I still feel that numbness, that lack of will, that disgusting apathy that has been my condition for ten years.

Maybe I just dreamed about escaping, maybe it happened only in my head.

“And you ask me where she is? I threw her out, obviously.

That entangling little creep is done making fun of me.

So, I’m sorry, but no more Winky.

No more grants.

No more books. We’re doing things my way, now” says my father, and the sharp blade of his voice descends upon my neck, brutally breaking any hope.

“I don’t know how you managed to oppose the Imperius, but I can guarantee this will never happen again” he sentences concisely, looking at me the way you’d look at a cockroach in your pantry.

I don’t answer, I can’t.

I don’t have the strength, because he won.

And he waits for a moment at the door, with his hand on the knob, without even looking at me.

“There are some things that never change, Barty, and you’re one of them.

You know what?

I wish you’d never been born.”

(Sorry for any mistake, I wrote this in Italian and then I had to translate it) 

[emiliaclarkesdragons]

Other Parts

[ Sequel to The Spy ]

I was told I had made a mistake. I wasn't just told by jealous men, I was told by women and his other wives. Perhaps they were jealous of me, it was obvious I was the favourite. They talked about me while I was sitting there. "Where's Brandon?" I asked, once again. He was enjoying living in the bigger house, but I could never find him and I still didn't trust his men.

"Lost him again" One of his wives sniggered, "You aren't a very good mo-"

"What's going on here?" Simon asked, standing closer to me than her. "What's the matter?" He asked me nicely.

"I can't find Brandon... he ran off again" I explained, looking at him not at the wife. I hadn't bothered to learn their names, I didn't want to be their 'friends' because when it came to it, if they had to kill each other to survive with Negan. They would. "He was in his room and I went to talk to one of the workers in the kitchens to try and get a piece of toast out of them. Brandon just wouldn't shut up about toast. I couldn't get any-"

"Just because we're the boss's wife, don't mean you can get what you want" The wife huffed, stepping closer.

Ignoring her, I continued, "So I went back and he was gone, he said he wanted to play hide and seek but I just didn't think he would leave"

"Come. I'll help" Simon said, "We'll find him, okay?" He asked, making sure I was okay, I nodded my head. "You know you might just survive Negan" Simon whispered to me as we walked in and out of the rooms.

"What do you mean by that?" I asked him, shouting, "Brandon!"

"Ignoring her like that, the others would have had a cat fight and then Negan would have told them off... you just-"

"Simon, Negan would like to see you," Johnny said very seriously. He glanced at me but only for a second. "And you, (y/n)." He didn't even look at me.

"Alight, thanks, Johnny," Simon said, taking my arm and walking me away from him.

"What was his problem? He didn't even look at me."

"Your off limits now, one glance the wrong way with someone noticing or even you mentioning it, Negan would have his head" Simon explained, letting go of my arm, "I wouldn't take it personally. There's a lot of people that treat you differently. That is unless you ask Negan to treat you a certain way. But," He pointed a finger at me, "That depends if you're his favourite." He shrugged and then added, "By the looks of it, you already are."

"Probably because I did actually work for him, instead of offering myself to him" I replied and Simon laughed while nodding. I knew he thought similar to me about the whole wives' thing, but we never said.

***

Brandon and I had people waiting outside or door 24/7, that was his punishment, but it felt like mine. Every time I opened the door they would look at me and stare, waiting for me to do something else. I wondered if they were waiting for me to act up, I often wondered what they would do if I did. They weren't allowed to touch me, they weren't supposed to look at me really, but then how would they do their job?

Brandon wasn't going anywhere, I had grounded him, he wasn't allowed to watch movies or play his games. That was how I punished him, Negan had banished him to his room for two weeks. He had tried to argue his way out of it, so it would have been a week.

There was a soft knock on the door, I went to open it, "may I enter?"

"You may" I replied, stepping out the way for Negan. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" I asked.

"Well, m'lady, I wanted to see how young Brandon is getting on. I heard you worsened his punishment" Negan leaned to the side a lot when he talked to me, I wasn't that small. Perhaps it was due to the bat, maybe it was heavy.

"He's in his room," I said, stepping away, "Would you-"

"Simon would like to speak with you... you have another assignment," Negan said, he sounded like he regretted saying it. It seemed like he had been outvoted in the decision to send me away once again. "Don't worry, it shouldn't be for too long... only a couple days" I knew that was a lie.

"Can I-?"

"Of course," Negan knew what I wanted, I walked into Bran's room and kissed him on the forehead. He was still fast asleep, it was early in the morning and I allowed him to sleep in.

I had left him a note:

To Bran,

I'm going away for a couple days again. I'll be back before you know it, Uncle Negan asked me personally, therefore, I have to leave. I will see you soon.

Lots of love, (first letter of your name)

***

"Simon!" I shouted as I reached the vans. He turned around, smiling a little. "What's going on?" I asked, my voice still raised. The other men were making a lot of noise.

"We have to go sort out so people" Simon replied, "Are you okay?" He asked me.

I shrugged, "I just thought that after I accepted, I wouldn't have to do this anymore." Simon stayed quiet, he never normally did, I shrugged it off, "Shall we get started?" I asked.

"Yes" He replied, a grin forming on his face, "you might not like this though." There were a million reasons running through my head trying to figure out why. "Alight people! Listen up!" He yelled, standing on the back of the pick-up truck. I stood next to the truck, facing the others. "We need to get some people back in line..." As Simon explained I could have guessed it was Gregory. It was never not him when it came to sorting people out.

***

"I swear he's a bigger pain in my ass that Rick is" Simon complained as we lead the way it the truck. "He ain't the leader, I know that but your husband won't listen to me" Simon huffed as he drove.

"What you want me to do about it. He ain't gonna listen to his wives, is he?" I huffed in response, "You know if he won't listen to you, he's not going to listen to anyone. Not. One. Person" I said, I could feel myself getting worked up already. "I never thought I would have to leave Brandon's side again. This is such bull-" I was cut off as Simon swerved out the way of a car coming head-on at us. "-The fuck!" I yelled as we began spilling-

Somewhere along the way to our current position, I had blacked out so, had Simon. I groaned and grunted as my eyesight adjusted, I realized we had tipped over. "Simon" I repeated as I tried to get him to wake up. I couldn't move until he did. He was blocking the exit. "Simon!" I shouted, fed up with the position we were in. His eyes shot open and he began to panic, he was panicking about me. "Simon, I'm fine and I'll be great once we get out of this situation," I stated, motioning to our surroundings. "You need to get out first," I said, "Open the doors first" I instructed. We were tipped on one side and the only way to get out was Simon's door, I didn't want to break the glass because we could get the others to tip the truck. I would still work.

Once I was out, he began panicking again, I had misunderstood why, "Simon, he isn't going to punish you, it ain't your fault! Where did they go anyway?" I asked, looking around. I couldn't see our men and I couldn't see the car that had come head first at us.

"Down!" Simon grabbed me, almost covering his whole body over me as the shots fired. "That's where they went" He mumbled to me. I wiggled out from under him to get the guns from the truck, looked like I would have to get back into the car. I climbed in the open door, nearly getting shot. I only knew that as Simon was yelling at me. I threw a gun out at him but stayed where I was.

It was Simon who killed them, I couldn't get a clean shot and I realized I was just wasting bullets. "Are you okay? Have you been hit?" Simon asked, faffing.

"Simon, I'm fine. I keep telling you that Negan-" I cut myself off after I caught his eyes. He wasn't worried about that... "Simon..." I whispered. I didn't know how to react. I just watched him lower his gaze and wander off. I assumed he was going to find their car. I stayed where I was. I wish he had told me before... before Negan.  

Thanks for reading! Another part will be posted soon, it was getting a bit long

[wacheypena]

Movies I often ColdFlash Take 2:

Decided to make a new post about it with updated ideas and such, the original list is here.

The Holiday - Still coldflash as the main couple, with Barry being single and he and Len totally hopping into the sack at some point if not as soon as they meet XD But the second pairing is now arrowwave cause I want it, and I can easily see Oliver breaking up with someone and leaving on impulse for a vacation elsewhere. Mick is still a single dad with two daughters, Len's a writer who was having an affair with Sam Scudder, who is now engaged and refuses to let it be known that he's gay if not bi. 

Oliver didn't take his previous relationships seriously, b/c most dated him for what he was, rather than who he is, and Mick could care less what he is aside from hot af and great in bed. He's also got two little girls to consider, which endears him to Oliver and makes him take this budding relationship a lot more seriously. Meanwhile, Len loves that Barry isn't afraid to share that they're dating and doesn't treat him like some dirty little secret. The main issue would be the distance when they inevitably return home. (Yeah I'm totally resolving that via some peeps move.) First post about this Second post about this

Stepford Wives - Same, after killing his dad, rather than go to Iron Heights, Lyla Diggle arranges for Len to work for Argus, b/c Barry knew he was under duress and deserved a chance to do good in the world, he just needed a chance. That and monetary motivation, but Len won't be paid until he's worked his prison time off. His first mission: investigate the town of Stepford as one of their latest married couples. He got to choose his spouse, and deciding on some revenge, he chooses Barry Allen. Fake dating trope to the max, cause I love this fucking trope XD

The Mummy - I feel this would be easier as a coldwave fic, cause Mick as the American who charms librarian Len sounds really hot XD And Barry as their adopted son would be so cute :3 I know this is a coldflash list, but seriously, it would be easier to have Len and Lisa as a pair of archaeologists/historians, and Mick is the ex-soldier who's been to the place they want to go. Otherwise, I have no idea who Lisa or the others would be if I coldflash-ed this.

Gentlemen Prefer Blondes - This would totally have to be an AU, and I'd make Len and Mick both thieves as well as entertainers. Oliver or Ray are the detective sent to follow the two on Barry's behalf, and thus shenanigans.

Coming to America - I know I said Barry was the prince in the last post, but now I have it in my head that Len is a fairy!Prince and he drags Mick with him to find a bride cause he believes his people have become too isolated and need new world views. He doesn't limit his search to women of course, and Barry is totally adorable. I'd let Barry have his powers and be the Flash in this case, so both of them have a secret to keep, though Len is better at figuring out Barry's XD

Labyrinth - Same as before, Barry is annoyed with Captain Cold constantly pulling heists to get his attention, and wishes he'd just go away for a while. Enter Mirror Master sending Cold into some random mirror dimension and Barry feeling guilty and going after him. They have to work together to get out of there, encountering all kinds of obstacles and discovering love in the process XD

(more under the cut, with a lot of details XD)

Teen Witch - I never explained what I had planned here: Barry lives with the Wests cause his mom was killed and his dad put in jail, etc, and he's best friends with Cisco and Caitlin at school. Iris is also a good friend but she's part of the popular crowd and dating Eddie, a football player who's friends with Ronnie. Other football players include Mick, Len and Tony, the last two often times bullying/teasing Barry.

On his sixteenth b-day, during a class field trip, Barry discovers a necklace w/a lightning bolt, his teacher Dr. Wells encouraging him to keep it. Hartley, a loner/outsider that people often called weird, approaches Barry and claims he's a witch like him and that they should rely on each other and learn to master their powers together. Barry immediately rejects the idea, cause witches aren't real, but then at a party Iris invited him too, he's cornered by Tony and manages to make him 'disappear' into thin air, which freaks him out. With Hartley's help, he brings Tony back with no memory of what happened at the party, and Tony transfers to another school not too long after.

Turns out, Barry is a witch from his mother's side, and the necklace is his talisman. Hartley having a similar necklace only with a flute at the end of it. Hart also has a ton of books on magic so Barry has a lot to read through.

Barry discovers a love potion and considers using it on Iris, but he knows it wouldn't be real and it would hurt Eddie, who he has gotten to know as a decent guy. Instead, he tells Iris about the witch stuff, and she happily agrees to help keep it hush hush from Joe who would probably send Barry to a mental institution.

Some conflict arises as Cisco and Caitlin want to know why Barry's not hanging out with them as much, and so he confesses to them too. They don't believe him at first, so he demonstrates his power by making Caitlin admit her feelings to her crush, Ronnie. Turns out that Ronnie had a crush on her too, but thought she'd rebuff him since she was so aloof. Of course, Cisco now wants to experiment and test out Barry's abilities, including the use of that love potion. (No worries, it doesn't get used.)

Meanwhile, though he wasn't nearly as cruel and as menacing as Tony had been, Len still teases Barry to some extent, but rather than use his powers to make him go away, cause Barry feels that makes him just as bad as a bully, he applies a truth spell on Len, and discovers Len has been in the closet due to an abusive dad and has a crush on Barry. (Even though Barry utters the spell, Len would be admitting these things in front of Mick and Eddie who are in the locker room with him after gym class, the spell breaking after Len takes a shower cause water did that in this movie's continuity.)

And that's as far as I got with this XD (I'm a dick.)

True Lies - Len is the super, sexy, spy and Barry is his adorable husband who works in a cubicle and doesn't realize he's married to a spy. (They also have an adopted son.) Barry's been neglected for some time though, and he starts to worry he's being cheated on. With this state of mind, it's fairly easy for some scumbag to try and seduce him into an affair. Though like in the movie, Len discovers this affair before anything too scandalous can occur, and in his jealous rage he gets Barry to perform his own little 'spy' mission. It backfires when the real terrorists come in and kidnap them both and the rest of the fic is like the movie. @mockingbird-22 and I angsted it up though in certain parts cause Barry inspired it XD

Romancing the Stone - Definitely an AU, though this story could be turned into a coldwave as well as a coldflash story. Len as a romantic novelist sounds lovely doesn't it? And he'd do anything to protect Lisa, including traveling to a foreign country and risk all types of danger. Barry I see as more of an action/adventure, sci-fi thriller type of writer. He'd still go and try to save Iris of course. And either Len or Mick would make a great con artist/love interest.

Don't Tell Mom the Babysitter's Dead - So Len, Mick, Lisa, and maybe a few others are orphans and living together in one house. Len successfully got their care taker put in jail cause they were embezzling funds. Of course the state gives them someone new, but that person winds up dying of natural causes on the first night. Mick and Len get rid of the body, unintentionally destroying the money along with it. The only choice they have now is to either wait till the next monthly deposit, or one of them gets a job. Len winds up getting a job while Mick agrees to stay and watch the younger kids. (They're 17 and 16 respectively, Mick being oldest.) (Btw, Len drops out of high school but gets his GED, in case peeps wonder why he doesn’t attend school)

Len's first job sucks, though he meets Barry who's secretly a hero in training. Len winds up quitting cause the pay isn't enough to cover all the bills or worth the amount of stress it gives him. He recruits Hartley, a kid really good at hacking, into making him a new resume that would land him a better desk job somewhere. Only he made it too good, as Malcolm Merlyn decides to hire Len on the spot as an executive assistant to his 'secretly a bad guy company' rather than be a simple receptionist. (Yeah I went cartoony with this XD)

Len is surprisingly good at this job, as he's organized, logical, and a great strategist. His only obstacle being Sam Scudder who had been in line to take the position until he showed up. Also, his creepy g/f Rosa who keeps hitting on him. Eobard is another creep who apparently likes to brag about tormenting the Flash. Oh, and Len is dating Barry now, so keeping this whole thing a secret is hard, especially when he finds out Barry lives with a cop and intends to become a CSI when he's older. So much conflict and all Len wants to do is keep a roof over everyone's head.

The Mask of Zorro - Netflix recently added this, so now it got me thinking of Henry being the original Zorro/Flash, only for Eobard to kill his wife and frame him for it. Then whisk Barry away to raise him as his own while also disguised as Dr. Harrison Wells. Len, Lisa and Mick are sort of thieves/anti-heroes until Lisa and Mick are captured and in his attempt to break them out of prison, Len breaks Henry out on accident. His family was sent elsewhere, and Henry offers to help Len find them if he agrees to help him put a stop to all the evil that's corrupting their city. Len doesn't want to be a hero, but he understands their city is suffering and he needs help investigating his family's whereabouts. Turns out Dr. Wells has been capturing metas and trying to turn them into soldiers so he could take over the city. (Len, Mick and Lisa are metas in this.) Keep in mind, the time period would be the same as in the movie. Romance wise, Barry would totally be enamored with the mysterious hooded figure who wields ice in ways he didn't know were so beautiful. And who is this charming but infuriating man named Leonard Snart?

Look Who's Talking - @mockingbird-22 and I both have different takes on this. In my version, it's an a/b/o world, and Eowells(?) has made a bad habit of spreading his seed. Barry thought it was true love, but turns out he was being used like the other omegas in Eowells life. (Debating if I should name Hartley among them and bring him into this idea or not.) Barry does what he can to move on, though it is quite stressful, especially when one omega pursues a lawsuit against Eowells for sleeping around so much with no intention of helping out with the resulting offspring. Barry, along with a few others, are called to witness the trial and to provide proof that they were all impregnated by the same man. It's enough to stress Barry into labor as he exits the building and into Len's unsuspecting cab.

Len saw that Barry came out of the courthouse, but he doesn't know why he was there. He just drives him to the hospital as quick as he can. Barry gives birth to a healthy baby boy, and returns to his apartment with both his baby and a compensation check from the lawsuit. Len arrives not too long after cause Barry forgot his wallet inside the cab.

If you've seen the movie, the rest follows along the same lines with a few details changed such as Len using Barry's address so Lisa can attend a different school, and both Len and Lisa taking turns to babysit the baby. Also, Barry's relieved when Len forcibly removes Eowells from visiting the baby, as Barry wants nothing to do with him anymore. Though the explanation as to why the other man was trying to visit is awkward, Len takes it in stride.

I can see Barry giving in and wanting a relationship with Len easily, but then worrying that Len was too dubious in the eyes of the law to consider, especially if I make him a thief in this verse XD

And that’s all I got for now folks! Thanks for reading, and if you’d like to head canon some stuff with me on this, feel free to message me. If you want me to just write these fics already, let me know which and please wait :3

[theconservativebrief]

Every week, we pick a new episode of the week. It could be good. It could be bad. It will always be interesting. You can read the archives here. The episode of the week for November 25 through December 1 is “Battle of the Sexes,” the fifth episode of the third season of Netflix’s F Is for Family.

Netflix’s F Is for Family is a weird little hybrid of a show. It’s sometimes very funny, and it’s sometimes very sad, which isn’t that unusual for a comedy — even an animated comedy — in 2018. But what makes F Is for Family notable is how both its sadness and its humor stem from exactly the same spot.

It would be tempting, if you only watched a single half-hour episode of F Is for Family, to conclude that it’s a series lamenting the rise of “political correctness.” Set in the ‘70s, it centers on a loud-mouthed white guy named Frank who’s at least vaguely threatened by women demanding something more like equality, and by the growing sense that the social order he stands atop is slowly eroding right beneath him.

What’s more, Loudmouthed white guys threatened by change aren’t unusual TV protagonists, either for comedies set in the ‘70s or for animated sitcoms. But F Is for Family’s spin on the type is defined as much by his sputtering frustration and total lack of confidence in himself and his abilities as it is by his anger. When Frank (voiced by series co-creator Bill Burr) shouts at his kids, F Is for Family doesn’t want you to laugh at how times have changed as much as it wants you to feel how limited he can be by his narrow range of emotional expression.

Yet the series isn’t afraid of occasionally dropping the hammer, of leaving viewers wondering where some darkly emotional turn came from. And so goes the end of “Battle of the Sexes,” the third season’s fifth episode.

Frank is covered in dead goose, and that’s all you need to know. Netflix

Coming at the exact midway point of a 10-episode season, “Battle of the Sexes” sends the season’s two big plots crashing into each other.

In the first plot, Frank has essentially been trying to woo new neighbor Chet (Vince Vaughn) to be his new best friend. Chet’s an Air Force pilot who married Nguyen Nguyen (Eileen Fogarty), a woman he met in Vietnam. Frank, who never met a cocky dude he couldn’t immediately try to emulate, begins spending more and more time with Chet, who offers to build a new room for the baby Frank and his wife have on the way.

But throughout Chet’s time on F Is for Family, the show drops more and more hints that he’s not the “great guy” Frank keeps insisting he is, especially when Chet suggests that both men cheat on their wives. (Frank refuses.) What’s more, the sheer number of times that both Chet and Frank say Chet is a “great guy” should lead most astute viewers to conclude that Frank knows, on some level, that the guy’s a fraud and Chet is compensating for something in hanging out with him.

Meanwhile, in the second plot, Frank’s wife Sue (Laura Dern) is reeling from the theft of her salad-tossing invention, which has made $1 million for another woman in town. She throws herself into trying to find a “second once-in-a-lifetime idea,” even as she’s balancing a pregnancy and trying to preserve a marriage she found herself more and more ambivalent about in season two. (It’s not uncommon for animated family comedies to suggest that their central husbands and wives are unequally yoked; only on F Is for Family do you suspect that such a marriage might really dissolve someday.)

Her second big idea arrives in the form of a weird kitchen multi-tool that contains a fork, spoon, knife, pizza cutter, and spatula, among other things. She and her friend Viv sink a fair amount of money into developing prototypes, but nobody else likes the idea, and Sue watches her grand ambitions slowly circle the drain, knowing that a baby will arrive soon and suck up plenty of her time and attention.

There are other storylines circling these two central ones — mostly featuring Frank and Sue’s three kids — but the center of the season stems, as is always the case when the show is at its best, from the ways Frank and Sue are limited by their histories, their frustrations, and their emotional limitations.

Frank, in particular, is a pitch-perfect sketch of a certain kind of male neediness. He at once longs to be as seemingly cool as Chet, while also feeling a bit thrown by how little another neighbor, the ultra-confident neighbor Vic (Sam Rockwell, doing a Sam Rockwell impression), seems to care about typical social niceties. (Season two revealed that much of Vic’s confidence is thanks to cocaine, which feels about right.)

But Frank is also unable to see beyond his own nose. He understands that Sue feels an immense frustration at the way her life has turned out, but he’s largely unwilling to dwell on how he’s played a big role in that frustration. Similarly, his relationship with one of his best friends, black co-worker Rosie (Kevin Michael Richardson), is defined by how often Rosie has to point out that Frank can’t understand Rosie’s frustrations, because Frank is white.

Season three of F Is for Family does soften Frank just a touch. He’s really trying in his marriage to Sue, whom he does love deeply, and he’s horrified when Chet suggests cheating on their wives. And when Rosie gets passed over for a promotion at work, Frank is upset for reasons beyond how much more work it’s going to make for Frank (though, to be fair, he’s mostly upset about the amount of work it will mean for him). But if Frank is softening, the world around him isn’t, necessarily.

Sue learns something horrible about Chet and Nguyen Nguyen’s marriage. Netflix

The center of “Battle of the Sexes” is an impromptu neighborhood hangout at Frank and Sue’s house. Frank and Chet have been planning to work on the baby’s room, which leads to the other guys in the neighborhood dropping by. Sue, meanwhile, gathers her friends to offer feedback on her new invention. The kids hang out in the other room, too, watching the titular “Battle of the Sexes,” a jai alai spin on the 1973 tennis match of the same name.

Eventually, the three parties blend together in the largest group scene F Is for Family has ever done, according to series co-creator and showrunner Michael Price, as all of the characters gather around the television to watch a woman and man face off on the sacred courts of jai alai. As everyone watches the match play out, they crack jokes, both to diffuse the tensions that have built up throughout the night and to underscore the existing social order. A final bet from Sue ensures that if the woman jai alai player wins, the men in the room will do their respective household’s chores over the next week.

But the bet is masking a darker turn. Later, as Sue walks over to Chet and Nguyen Nguyen’s house to return a casserole dish, she hears Chet threatening Nguyen for the jokes she made at his expense earlier, then telling her she’s not allowed to leave the house the next day. Sue listens, then turns away — not returning the dish — presumably to go home and tell Frank.

This is a standard F Is for Family move. The show will frequently deploy a standard trope of the animated family sitcom subgenre — like a dad who shouts loud and abusive things for “comedy” reasons — then look at how harmful those tropes can be in other contexts. Frank’s bluster is funny because he’s ultimately not going to do anything about it. He’s just loud and angry, and he takes his family for granted, but he loves them too much to do anything except shout. Chet is very different (as, we learn later in the season, was Frank’s own father).

This willingness to dig into the darker subtext at play in its universe is what makes F Is for Family worth watching. The show has an immense amount of empathy for every character that lives in its little neighborhood, but it also understands how the limitations that keep them all in place manifest in traumas that travel down family trees.

And yet they don’t have to. Frank might bluster, but he’s not his father, and we can see the ways that his own sons won’t be like Frank when they grow up. And F Is for Family doesn’t pretend its “politically incorrect” elements depict the world as it really is, or something facile like that; rather, it focuses on the ways that Frank and guys like him created a whole system designed to flatter themselves into believing they are — or at least were — the kings of the world.

In season three, especially, F Is for Family is about a nation in transition, where Irish and Italian families are increasingly secure in their positions of power and privilege relative to other racial minorities and ethnicities, but where they still have recent memories of being cast out of the American mainstream (to the degree that a side character on a show that Frank’s kids watch is a very broad Irish stereotype). And yet the characters increasingly try to make things better, here and there, around the edges of their lives, if never quite at the center.

Okay, yeah, that makes the show sound more like a dark drama than an animated sitcom. And at times, that description fits F Is for Family — a funny show, but one that will never sacrifice a character moment, heartfelt or depressive or otherwise, in the name of a joke. It’s a long, boozy story, told by a very funny comedian, late at night, right before the bar closes. And you start out laughing, but then you’re just smiling, and then finally you’re realizing this guy has seen some shit. And then the story’s over, and the lights come on, and everybody goes home, through quiet streets.

F Is for Family is streaming on Netflix.

Original Source -> Netflix’s F Is for Family examines the dark core of the angry sitcom dad

via The Conservative Brief