#but as a whole I'm a bit conflicted. it's a police au and while i really like reading completely removed from reality police au's

[notthestarwar]

Have another snippet of my writing that I like. This one prob requires a bit of set up so,

This is a modern au. Jaster raises 10 of Jango's kids in his absence, before Cody runs away at 16. Years later, Jango is murdered and it turns out that he's been living in the same city as Cody all along, and so have Wolffe and Fox, each living completely different lives.

Excerpt from: the Last Days of Jango Fett

Cody’s gaze sweeps over the exterior of the gym and he wonders if he's making a mistake. He spent a lot of his time, growing up, in gyms like this. The faded lettering of the sign declares the gym’s official name to be ‘Koon’s training gym’ but scrawled over that, in grey lettering, is its true name ‘Plo’s bro’s’ he bites his cheek, wondering at the identity of Plo. If he’ll find him inside, or if the sign serves as only a fond memorial. He crosses the threshold and he may as well have stepped back in time.

He can hear a familiar voice, barking orders, corrections. But his gaze skips straight over the set of strong shoulders, the back of a head so much like his own, and instead he only has eyes for the ring, because inside, there is a boy who for all appearances could be Cody’s own; who could even be Cody himself, had you a loose grip on temporal structure.

Boba is good, better than a boy of his age should be, clearly Jango’s been training him. He still wouldn’t have stood a minute in the ring with Cody at the same age, not that that’s any fair comparison; Cody could have beaten them all. They said he was born with a golden ticket in his mouth. A right hook to end all right hooks and with it, a way out. For them all.

Cody had spent all his teen years training in a gym like this, just down the road from Jaster’s, born ability or not, he wasn’t given an easy ride. Jaster’s old buddies rallied together for one last go and they gave it their all. Within the walls of that gym, they lived again, they gave it all they had to train Cody like it were 30 years previous and they still had a chance in hell of winning. For a moment, it seemed like they would.

Cody in the ring had been a sight to behold. He and he only, could retrieve their last chance, lost to anyone else because no-one knew where it fell. But Cody and Cody only, he would rise to the top and he would reach and he would hold it in his hands. Glory. Lost and abandoned, left to gather dust from the day it had fallen from Jango’s hands. Theirs, once again. Cody could have saved them all.

But. Cody couldn’t be that for them. He had the talent, sure. He had the drive to make it to the top, for certain. More than all of that, he had that magic, that thing you can’t quite put a word to, that made him a sight to behold in the ring. Like pure gold. But there was one thing Cody didn’t have, the wherewithal to be his Fathers keeper. Cody did not have it in him, to live his life for a man that did not want him. Glory in the ring; that was Jango’s dream, not his.

Born on a cool November, against the odds, Cody entered the world a healthy 9'5 with a healthy set of lungs to match. Jango did not know of this, Jango was not there.

Cody, healthy and round, had been placed in to the arms of a woman who had looked down upon her son and immediately known that she could never, quite, be what he needed and so she hadn’t tried to be.

Once when he was young, Cody had overheard Jaster speak of her. Only the once and not of the woman herself but of her, as Jaster put it, ‘sentimental bullshit’. Jaster was a strong believer in facing up to your problems and the woman who had given birth to Cody, did quite the opposite.

That woman had looked in to her babies eyes, and had delivered that baby, quite promptly, to Jaster’s doorstep. An undetermined amount of time later, Jaster had answered the door to find two bottles of milk and Cody, laying on the doormat.

Cody had been left quite alone, with nothing but a blanket, and a note; explaining that his mother, having looked in to her son’s eyes’, had immediately known that she could never contain quite the amount of love that her son would need and was therefore, leaving him to his Father, a man she was sure was more than capable. Jaster, who at this point was already responsible for two of Jango’s progeny, suspected otherwise; as he had told the milkman that day after he had kindly knocked and asked if Jaster was quite aware there was a baby sleeping on his doorstep.

That day, standing there speaking to Jaster as a baby laid between them, the milkman, in a moment of startling honesty, had looked down to the babe and told Jaster that upon the birth of his first son, he had worried that he wouldn’t be suited to fatherhood, but had since realised that all the little ones really needed; was loving. Jaster, not having slept through the night in about 2 years by that point, had bluntly retorted that love would not feed yet another mouth and so, he would be needing another bottle of milk, before sweeping down to gather the child to his chest, the note laying unneeded on the doorstep.

Cody had heard Jaster reason, through that crack in the kitchen door, that the last thing any child needed was a bit of paper telling them their parent didn’t have it in them to love them enough. Jaster had known, from that first glance at Cody, as all parents do, that upon finding that Cody needed more love, he might only ever meet such a thing with carving out just a bit more space in his heart or wherever else love is kept, to hold it.

To Jaster, parenthood was not about biology, it was simply about being needed and being the kind of person, that would change themselves however necessary, to meet that need.

That day in the kitchen, Jaster’s friend had shortly weighed him up to be a ‘soft fool’ who ‘only had it coming’ ‘what with all these doorstep babies’, but Jaster hadn’t seemed to mind. In the following years, Cody had rarely heard him talk like that again, but the sentiment lived on with him all the same, carried with him until he was old enough to understand what such a thing really meant.

Not that Jango ever stopped by to see it for himself, but everyone who met Cody declared him to be the spit of him. Cody was Jango’s second coming for sure, it didn’t matter that Jango was still walking the earth. Everyone who saw Cody in the ring was sure that he’d been delivered upon them to finish what Jango could not.

Cody often worried, that he wouldn’t quite weigh up in the eyes of Jaster, who had afterall, known Jango the best. Cody rather worried, that he instead, might take after his maternal side. The type to run from problems rather than face them. Because of this fear, Cody spent his whole life rising to each and every problem until one day, he did quite the opposite.

In the early hours of the day Cody’s big match was to be held; the one that was sure to shoot him right to the top, so high that his eyebrows would brush the stars and the rest of them, they’d all be able to fall on clouds; the big match that wasn’t just Cody’s ticket to a kinder life but everyone’s, his showstopper, Cody had found himself with a bag over his shoulder walking the track out of town.

When he reached the end of that track, where the old road met the big one, he’d found Jaster sat waiting for him.

Jaster had offered Cody a small smile and, told him he was beginning to worry that he wouldn’t come. Then, he had met his eyes and wished him luck. Jaster had said that he was proud of Cody, for having reached the same conclusion that Jaster himself had; Jaster knew that Cody was not put on this earth to right Jango’s wrongs, Cody was here, only to be Cody , and besides, he never had to worry about turning out to be the kind of person that Jaster might not like, because the thing about raising someone, is you keep loving them no matter who they might turn out to be.

Later that day, as one by one the fields passed him by, Cody had looked out the window of the coach and known with a surety that sometimes, the only way you can face your problems, is by leaving.

That day, Cody left the memory of Jango Fett behind, in search of a life where there was a bit of room to be Cody Mereel, and he had never once looked back.

Cody had left the memory of Jango behind, in the pursuit of himself, but now, here was Boba.

Boba had not left Jango behind as he hadn’t been given time to, Jango was only a ghost in Cody’s childhood but he was something more real to Boba. That is at least, until one day, when he was just gone.

For the first time, Cody looks behind himself and there, following, as he always has been, is the boy he left behind. Cody had to leave that boy in order to become the man he is today. he doesn’t regret it, he likes who he is, who he allowed himself to become, by leaving. But now he can see that in order to help Boba, he needs to be both the man who’s risen above the ghost of his father and also, the boy who could never quite live up to the memories his father left behind.

For the first time in his adult life, Cody remembers what it was to be the son of Jango Fett and then, against better reason, he holds on tight to that memory. When he looks back over his shoulder once again, there isn’t anyone there. That boy is looking forward as Cody looks forward and when he takes his next step, they take it as one. Cody is whole and he is his self, he is as he always has been, wholly and completely.

In the gym that is in every way, both the same and nothing like those of his childhood, Cody takes another step and then another, until his toes are almost touching the side of the ring.

Boba sees him first, just a glance and then, Cody sees the moment that his face registers. Boba just stops in space, he blinks wide eyes at the sight of him before tilting his head, letting those same eyes trace over Cody.

Now that he’s seen Jango Fett, Cody knows precisely why he might garner such a reaction, Cody didn’t have a dad so he has no idea what it is like to lose one. He can’t quite imagine what this must be like for Boba, it’s just you and your dad and then, he is murdered. Your dad dies and you are 10, and then, almost identical men start spilling out of the cracks of the city.

Boba has been distracted for long enough now that Wolffe has given up on trying to call his attention back, he turns to see what has the boy’s attention caught and soon comes up short himself.

Cody looks up at his big brother for the first time in 20 years and swallows.

“Hi Wolffe.” He says quietly.

Wolffe is frozen, even more so than Boba, not even his eyes move and now Cody looks at him, he isn’t sure if they can. One side of his brothers face is heavily scarred, like something long ago scraped across the surface, even from here Cody can see that the eye on that side is clouded.

His brother takes in a loud breath, “Cody?”

And then before Cody can even think to answer, Wolffe is moving, rolling out of the ring until he can engulf Cody in his arms.

Cody is the same size as Wolffe now but somehow it doesn’t feel like it, he feels dwarfed, finally back in his brothers arms and why did Cody ever think he could live without this? Wolffe’s arm is cradling his head and the other is bracing Cody’s back and he can feel his head tucked against Cody’s own and Cody has been alone for 20 years and he didn’t have to be, he knows this now, as well as he knows anything.

Cody doesn’t know what he expected. He doesn’t know what he expected from any of this. The past week has been a storm. An uncontrollable thing that you can only watch happen.

Had he thought maybe that upon seeing him, Wolffe might hit him?

Maybe that he would berate him for leaving?

Cody didn’t know who the adult his brother had grown in to really was. Maybe he had expected him to be cold, distant in the face of the brother that left them all? Cody had showed them all that it was possible to leave, that such a thing wasn’t only the purview of Jango and from what Rex had said that had left their family fractured. It had never been the same again after Cody left and showed everyone that they could leave. One by one, they had each followed him in to the unknown, lost to each other thanks to him.

Had he thought any of that, he would have been wrong. The man holding him isn’t any of that, he is just Wolffe, he is just Cody’s brother.

They are together, once again.

[will-you-pick-me]

YELLOW HINT I REPEAT YELLOW HINT!!!!!!! DOES MR THE NARRATOR WATCH US THROUGH SMALL ANIMALS???? Oh my gosh he's probably a corvid lover isn't he? No, actually, that feels fitting in my mind but it'd be kind of cute if he picked a chunky lil brightly colored orb of a bird, cardinals come to mind, if thats even TRUE and he even prefers birds, maybe he watches us through squirrels? wait. no. raccoons. tis but a theory tho so i guess I will just neeeeeever know also UGH....MIKEY.....mikey is going to say be gay do crime and im gonna end up on international news as a murderer (not like i'd snitch on him though, ill take the jail time for him any day of the weak) Something I find interesting though, our lovely angel is very intent on our safety, and I can only assume that perhaps that's where.....buttons maybe pushed. Would I be right in assuming Zach is the type to see yn as someone who's perhaps not 'pure' but someone innocent and kind that's too be protected? Hmmm, if that's the case then the conflict of what Zach sees yn as vs how they actually might be.....interesting interesting! Also I so desperately want to give the narrator so many rocks from outside, and also seashells, i think i'd blow his mind with petrified wood and drift wood OH, Jessica does historical fashion quite often and it seems she makes corsets 4 a living 2 sell at ren faires? (and probably just in general) so like.....what's everyone dressing up as for a ren faire. I must know. Personally? I'm a pirate that's been cursed to be part fish

"It's not how you find me, sadly. That journey is... painful, for everyone involved. I'd almost rather you didn't set me free, considering what such a feat will demand of you. Ah, but I talk too much... Apologies, my darling Y/N. And thank you, for the thought of your gifts."

... ANYWAYS!

Mikey likely won't get you charged for murder - and even if that was a concern, who's saying the local police aren't wrapped up snugly in our man-whores wallet~? Don't worry, you're not doing any jailtime, tiger.

Zach IS very worried about your safety! It might also be that they... Remember certain things they wish they didn't. Certain timelines. Unlike someone else, though, they don't have the power to do anything about it other than to ask you to be careful this time. If you wind up dead, they can't bring you back - that's out of their hands. And it kills them every time they have to see it, and remember it. It kills them every time they have to pretend they don't remember what happened, if you don't remember.

Also I am ENAMORED with the idea of a renfaire or fantasy au!! So excuse me while I dive headfirst into this lmao---

Mikey is 100% a pirate. Aside from the whole devilish charm bit and the crime, you CANNOT tell me he wouldn't wear that jaunty little tricorn hat and an open vest with those billowy pants and absolutely KILL the look. And I just KNOW he'd use the whole character as an excuse to call Y/N his "one true treasure" or something along those lines, the whore (affectionate).

Ulrich is definitely some kind of royalty, most likely a czar due to his Russian history. Also, the rich and intricate robes suit his strict and demanding personality I think - you can't make or put on something like that without knowing exactly what you're doing and knowing the exact process behind it.

Zach is likely still an angel, but in their divine garments instead of casual human clothes. I could see them maybe spicing it up with some other kind of spirit, though. Definitely lots of white silks and star sapphire jewelry set in silver, though, to match their hair and eyes and offset their dark skin.

Jessica usually attends renfaires as her seamstress persona, Madame Rouge, who runs the shop "Fateful Threads" - a pun on the mythos of the red string of fate. A true Fateful Threads corset will have it's boning channels sewn in with red silk thread, as well as it's sizing tag sewn on and embroidered with the same. She's often recognized by the silver chatelaine (Victorian toolbelt) that jangles from her hip, brass and porcelain glaze inlay decoration of a red rose, and her distinctive red curls that she'll style and powder up into a big coiffure. She also often has a brown leather apron tied over her skirts, which has no end of pin holes marking it.

Jack is the werewolf, obviously, but a very contrite one who does his best to do right, and he has pauldrons on his (otherwise bare 👀) shoulders and a sword at his back from doing his best to become a city guard :3 While he faces some stigma still from elders, the younger ladies and small children find him quite friendly and charming, and you might find him stomping around the campgrounds with a little tot perched on his shoulder, excitedly pointing at the direction they want to go.

Narrator gets stuck working the ticket booth probably because he's not allowed fun or freedom lmao---

[akajustmerry]

I just read your write up about the misogyny in Stranger Things and it's amazing! I wanted to ask, how do you enjoy problematic media? I LOVE Stranger Things but I hate Jonathan, I hate Eleven's vanity and her dismissal of Max. It takes me out of the show. I used to like a lot of media, but lately I'm picking apart everything. Which in a way is good, but almost everything is problematic in some way and it's tiring. I just want to enjoy things, while also understanding the societal implications.

heeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeey!!! thank you so much for reading and I feel u, anon. I feel u! especially because the tv and film industries are built on toxic af infrastructures of racism, homophobia, sexism - it can feel overwhelmingly hard to find anything to enjoy. I also struggled with this a lot a couple of years back (i mean, the old’ depression monster didn’t help either) BUT I don’t struggle sm now so here are some tips 

WEIGH IT UP: face facts, friend. you’re never gonna find a piece of ideologically pure media because a) there must always be conflict in a story and b) human beings have and always will be ideologically flawed. WHAT YOU CAN do is decide how much of the bad in a piece of media outweighs the good and ultimately ask yourself if letting the bad get to you is unfair to the good parts and your own sanity. lord knows i hate jonathan and eleven’s misogynistic vanity, but man oh man do i love the portrayal of friendship between those kids and the wonderfully original sci-fi elements,.. I love so much more about it than i hate.

YOU’RE NOT JUST SUPPORTING THE BAD: for example, the ceo of marvel is a piece of shit and when i learned he donated to trump and is a zionist i stopped seeing marvel movies at the movies for a while but then thor 3 was announced and was being made by taika waititi (independant maori filmmaker) and he made an effort to employ lots of indigenous workers when he was filming here in aus so i went to see it because even tho i don’t wanna support marvel’s ceo, i wanna support the employment of my people in filmmaking more. same with black panther because i want to support the hell out of black superheroes

TAKE THINGS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT: criticism shouldn’t always be seein as a deal-breaker, it just means you’re aware of larger issues. when it comes to media you can always ignore the stuff you’re not a fan of. for example, I love The Nanny is one of my favorite sitcoms, but oh boy is there some really iffy misogynistic plotlines in that show BUT I know not to idealize that and i just roll my eyes and move on. watching a show isn't all or nothing. i mean i hated the last jedi and i won't be purchasing that bluray but i still love star wars as a whole

separate media elements between being problematic and compelling: there’s a big difference between a show, let's say, portraying rape culture, being ignorant of it and promoting it. a show can portray rape culture in order to criticize it without promoting it or validating it (shows like Jessica Jones). then, there are millions of romcoms where things like consent, respect for boundaries, etc. are disregarded in the name of running times (just ignoring it) and then there are films and television shows like game of thrones, etc. that promote really unhealthy uncriticised sex. basically, the fact there’s racism, crime, etc. in a show doesn’t make it problematic. the problematic bit comes in the way the media chooses to handle it. if something isn't handled well see: point one

SUPPORT SHOWS YOU LIKE AS WELL AVOIDING SHOWS YOU HATE: this is my favorite method of balancing my media consumption. shows like game of thrones will get made poorly regardless of criticism because it already has the ratings. boycotting won’t really do much but save yourself from watching it. so try and support a similar show that's less problematic (like into the badlands). i hate gal gadot and zionism in general so i make a big effort to watch and support palestinian films, as well as boycotting what i can.

DON’T WATCH THINGS THAT MAKE YOU FEEL BAD: Ultimately if you really aren’t enjoying something stop watching it. you don’t owe it anything 

It's okay to enjoy things that aren't harmful: Call-out culture has cultivated a practice where we do look at a lot of problems in what we consume. This is a good thing because media shouldn't be passively consumed but at the end of the day its meant to be entertaining too and its okay to be entertained by things that aren't totally perfect, especially when we are constantly bombarded with dismal news in this age. sometimes you just need to take charge of your own mental health and say, "yeah okay brooklyn nine nine could easily be considered police propaganda, but its funny, promotes positive thinking, good morality and gosh dang it watching this 20 minute sitcom is gonna make me laugh after a shitty day and thats okay"

If you (like me) love watching films and tv but you also wanna support good work then the easiest thing to do is well, what you can when you can. promote work you think is good, enjoy the things you can enjoy, stop watching the things you can’t. its hard sometimes but its just a matter of gauging what you can handle and what you know to be right and finding a balance.no one expects you to be perfect all the time (i certainly am not), but you can do what you can where you can and thats better than nothing and definately better than driving yourself mad trying to only consume ‘pure’ media

wow this is really long, sorry!! but i hope its helpful!!

for more resources on media representation, check out my tag:

https://akajustmerry.tumblr.com/tagged/media-representation

merry xxx