#feeling a bit unsure about my preachy part

[dribs-and-drabbles]

Let's talk about...Pat's "Proud to be a Noles Hater" shirt

I've been thinking about this one for a while...actually since a comment I got on another of my posts about Pat's shirts. I have thoughts about that and the general reaction these shirts get, which I'll address below...but first, the shirt:

So when Pat wore this shirt in ep 8, it's safe to say a lot of people lost their sh*t over the *ahem* 'ridiculousness' of it in the context of a Thai romcom...well, I'm here to refute that sentiment. I'm here to say it was highly intentional and actually a really f*cking genius deliberate choice.

Earlier in the ep, Pat introduces the 'football' theme with the Tampa Bay t-shirt. Originally, I interpreted this shirt's inclusion in a few ways, mainly with the colours - first the mint green signifying Pat and Pran becoming boyfriends, and second the pumpkin orange both as a parallel to the bus stop hand-hold but also as a connection to the lime green Pa wears in the corridor and to Ink.

And then comes the 'Proud to be a Noles Hater' shirt - the 'Noles' referring to another American Football team. Colour-wise, I interpreted the darker green as a sign of the angst to come between Pat and his dad, whereas @karometeenk offered a great theory about the use of bright orange connecting Pat and Pran by music.

But I want to go beyond my colour theories...because the 'Noles' shirt is genius in many other ways... So, the slogan refers to the football team of the Florida State University, who are long-time rivals of the University of Miami - who are the ones to wear this slogan at games.

So Pat is wearing a t-shirt about a famous university rivalry in a show predominantly about rivals - the rivalry between his parents and Pran's (which started because Ming stole Dissaya's university scholarship) and the rivalry between the engineering and architecture faculties at the university they attend - but also during a scene where he's rehearsing the play, which is about another set of rival families. Adding to that, he's wearing it with Pran who should be his rival but who most definitely isn't because they are now boyfriends - which Pat is very proud about - even though there's a bit of conflict between them because of Pat posting pics to his IG...which they make up over the xylophone. So it's both representing the existing layered rivalries in the show and is a tongue-in-cheek joke of the fact that he and Pran are absolutely not rivals (although they love a bit of competition!)

But, there's more!

Pat goes home to his dad. His very proud father, who seems to enjoy the rivalry between the two families - remember in ep 1 Pat's ma tells Ming: "You seem so proud." Ming responds, "Of course. If we get hurt, they get hurt too." In ep 8, Ming brings up the fact that Pat has been choosing the architecture play over playing rugby, initiating the divide between them that will grow by the end of ep 10. It reminds Pat of the rivalries that still exist despite his blossoming relationship with Pran.

Later in his room, it's interesting that Pat changes into white clothes:

It's like he's stripping himself of 'sides' - he's become neutral, like Switzerland (honestly, I would have gone feral if this t-shirt had been Swiss rather than S. Korean). He wants to rid himself of the rivalries, and to be able to live in peace without them.

But speaking of the t-shirt being S. Korean...

Korea is a country divided, on opposing sides, adding to the 'rivalry' theme...with the "select" print on both sides suggesting a side maybe needs to be chosen...but the writing on the back could allude to Pat putting the conflict and rivalry behind him when he's with Pran...and the word 'Temporary' could also allude to their troubles not being permanent for their whole lives (by ep 12 we know it's still going to take time but the parents are on their way to accepting their son's boyfriend).

And then, after the delightful exchange across the roof, Pat lays Pran's shirt over his chest, covering himself once again in colour and proudly adorning himself with the word 'Friend' - the opposite to a rival. No more reminders of rivalries, no more tongue-in-cheek slogans...this is their honest and true status (well, boyfriends, but you know what I mean).

And here's where I get a bit preachy...because looking into all the costume choices of Bad Buddy has illuminated the fact that there is a danger with the knee-jerk reaction of 'oh my god that is ridiculous, why did they use that, where did they get it from?!' etc etc etc...that happens with 'foreign' media, which is at best rude and at worst...well...maybe indicative of some unconscious bias/prejudice/racism 🤷🏽‍♀️ (<- not sure which is the right term here...maybe all three).

Because it shouldn't be assumed that no one in the production understands the writing - of course some people speak English (or German, or whatever) - it shouldn't be assumed that no one thinks to check what the writing refers to...because this is/these are production companies that produce content not only for a national audience but also international - they have to make sure they're not using something offensive or, for example, pro-nazi or something just as controversial.

And Aof found a lot of the clothes himself in charity shops...so I can imagine him picking up various shirts - knowing Pat is a character who wears loud, crazy things - and either himself or someone else googling what any writing refers to...and to find a shirt like the 'Noles' one, he must have felt like he hit the jackpot - with not only all the layered meanings but also because yes, on the surface it does seem totally ridiculous. But it really, really isn't when placed in the right scene.

[kabira]

05 | job hunting

pairing — spider-man!vernon x ofc

featuring — joshua, yeji (itzy), felix (skz), yangyang (nct)

word count — 2.9k

genres — spider-man au, marvel au, fluff, action, angst, humor

warnings — none

note — so...you might have noticed some changes to the pairing. i’ve decided to go ahead and convert this to an x ofc fic because when it’s a 3rd person pov thing the ‘you’ pronoun kind of jumps out at you and it just sounds really unnatural lol. she’s been left race-ambiguous in the description, and she’s pretty cool, so i hope you like her !! even though she doesn’t show up very often djskalskjs

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Vernon stepped out into the open, finding himself on the highest level of the Helicarrier—not the top floor, but the deck itself.

The wind was strong, pushed by the rotator blades keeping the carrier in the air, and he shivered on feeling the sudden chill descend upon him. He hesitated, resting his palm against the side of one of the structures containing the blades, and glanced around. The aircraft was massive, big enough that despite being right next to the Quinjet runway, he couldn’t see any of the city beneath.

When he finally spotted White Tiger, she was sitting near the edge, mask in hand. At first, he was apprehensive about her being spotted, but when he got close enough, he realized they were way to high for anyone on the ground to be able to make out her features.

New York was easily a couple thousand feet below them, the tallest buildings looking like toy figurines from the high vantage point. The harbor glittered a dark blue-green underneath them, catching the dying light of the sunshine like little stars contained in the water. It was a breathtaking sight, so beautiful that it washed away Vernon’s initial fear as easily as a wave clearing away dug letters on a sandy beach.

He glanced at Yeji, pressing his teeth against his lower lip. She had her back to him, shoulders tensed—of course she would have heard him approach. Her hair was still up in a ponytail, but swayed lightly with the breeze. Even as he stood behind her, she said nothing, remaining silent and stony as she stared down at the view below.

“It’s nice up here,” he murmured. “Unless you have a crippling fear of heights, that is.”

Silence.

Vernon sighed to himself, slowly taking a seat next to her on the sun-heated deck, and pulled off his mask. The air was cool against his sweat-soaked skin, but did nothing to set his heart at ease. That was the hard part, one he had to figure out himself.

“So, White Tiger, huh?” he asked, scrunching up his nose as he looked at her sideways. Her chin rested on her folded forearms, which were balanced against her knees, legs crossed at the ankles. It should have been a relaxed posture, but her muscles were too tense, standing out like steel cables on her arms and sides. “Do your powers have anything to do with that jade amulet you wear?”

She unfolded herself, unconsciously touching the amulet that hung from one side of her gray belt. It was a vibrant green color, looking fragile like glass, but despite her generally offensive style of fighting, there wasn’t a single scratch on it. “It was my father’s,” she answered dully. “And my grandfather’s before him. The amulet is a family heirloom that passed down to me when the rest of my family died, and with it, the powers it bestows upon the bearer.”

“Oh,” he said, a little surprised. He hadn’t expected her to speak, but she had opened up, despite the still guarded tone of her voice. He pulled his knees up to his chest and looked out at the view, feeling calmer than before, but also a lot more awkward. “Are you afraid of the water?”

She glanced over at him, a confused scowl on her face. “What?”

“The water,” he repeated, indicating the harbor with a tilt of his head. “Aren’t cats supposed to be scared of water or something?”

Her eyes narrowed, but not before he caught the glimmer of amusement in them. “I’m not a cat,” she said. “The amulet gives me the agility and tenacity of a white tiger, but not all its fears. Are you afraid of house lizards, spider boy?”

“Well, one in particular.” He half-smiled. “But he’s back to human now, so I guess not really.”

She gave him a small smile back, one that indicated she got the joke. It wasn’t a big gesture, but it made him feel a bit better—which was funny, since he was the one supposed to be comforting her. He recalled Luce’s words from their earlier conversation. There’s no harm in being decent.

“Look,” he started, reaching up to rub the side of his neck, “I’m sorry about what I said back there. You said you knew I didn’t like you guys, but that’s not true. It’s just—it’s a sudden change,” he mumbled. “To have a whole team of supers in the school, and so soon after the—incident, it just set me off.”

She said nothing, waiting for him to continue. He shook his head. “You probably don’t know what happened a few weeks ago, and what happened, it’s not your fault. Heck, it doesn’t even have anything to do with you.” He laughed weakly. “The incident that took place, it followed a regular pattern I already should have known. When superhero stuff and real life mix, nothing good comes out of it. I wasn’t prepared for you guys, and I took it badly. I shouldn’t have taken it out on you.”

Yeji hummed. For a few moments, they sat in silence, but it was a comfortable sort of silence. For Vernon, it felt good to get all of that off his chest. It was hard to admit to something because of his pride, but putting it out there made him feel a bit better. No one liked seeing their faults, but to him, it was better than hurting someone he didn’t really want to hurt. In a way, even the superheroes around him were innocent people who could become collateral damage.

“What incident?” she asked.

He glanced at her, a little confused. She stared back at him with her eyebrows arched, as if expecting him to say something. “Sorry, what?”

“I told you about my family, how I came to be in possession of my powers,” she said. “Your turn. What incident were you talking about?”

He bit the inside of his cheek, staring at her thoughtfully. “Do you know Harry Osborn?” he asked at length.

She nodded. “The Goblin—I mean, Norman Osborn’s son.” She gave him a curious look. “Wasn’t he at Midtown with you?”

“Yeah.” He looked away again, studying the lenses of his mask. Speaking about it was difficult, and he wasn’t too sure about instantly opening up about such a horrific incident to someone he had met two days ago, but his instinct told him he could trust White Tiger. Either way, there was no harm in talking about that day, at least not the general aspects of it. “And you probably also know about how Norman Osborn was taken down.”

She nodded again, slower this time, looking thoughtful. “Wasn’t there a bargaining chip of some kind involved?” she asked. “Wait, sorry. I meant a human hostage.”

“Yeah,” Vernon murmured. He hung his head, running his spandex-covered fingers over the cloth of his mask, swallowing hard against the sudden dryness in his throat, but it hurt to do that, like there was a thorn stuck in his flesh. “Long story short, Harry Osborn…well.”

Yeji glanced at him in surprised concern, and he looked away, avoiding her gaze. Now would come the pitying glance, the awkward condolences, the unsure silence. He had had enough of that in the past few weeks.

“I get it,” she said, to his immense surprise. When he looked back at her, her eyes were sad, but there was a firmness beneath them, like stable ground at the bottom of the river. Even if she didn’t quite know all the details, they both spoke the language of loss, and it didn’t need words to be understood.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he said.

“I won’t.” She turned her face away, towards the sky, and he followed suit. The silence this time was more than comfortable, it was comforting. “No more details?”

Despite himself, he smiled. “Not yet,” he replied. “You have to get past level twenty first.”

She snorted a laugh. “I don’t really play video games,” she answered. “It’s a little difficult to fit in when you live in the same quarters as a couple of teenage boys, but I can’t do anything about it.”

“Really? You can drop by after school sometimes and I’ll show you.” He grinned, then grimaced. “Or maybe Aunt May can. I’m not the best at them, she kicks my butt on Night game night every time.”

“She sounds amazing already. I can’t wait to meet her,” Yeji said, smiling. “And while we’re on the subject of family—argh, I’m totally going to sound like Agent Fox, but here’s the thing.” She shifted her weight, sitting with her legs crisscrossed. “I know it’s hard to deal with loss, and that it’s different for everybody, but protectors feel guilt on a different level than everybody else—and you can’t carry that kind of weight around with you.”

Vernon picked at a small cut on the leg of his costume. “Agent Fox,” he repeated. “You too, huh?”

Yeji winced. “Therapists aren’t really equipped to deal with our kind of experiences,” she said. “I mean, what do you say to someone who had to physically fight their best friend’s dad because he turned into a genetically enhanced green monster?”

He laughed.

“Agent Fox might not be your best bet, but there are other things you can try,” she continued. “I know you probably don’t want some kind of preachy advice, but for me, being White Tiger helped.” She ran her fingers along the grooves of her amulet again, as if deriving comfort through its touch. “Doing something, even little things that just keep your mind off the past, it helps.”

He thought back to Luce’s words. “Like getting a job?”

Yeji frowned. “I guess,” she said. “If it doesn’t take over your time as Spider-Man, that is.”

“That’s twice in a day someone’s advised me to get a job,” he said. “Maybe I really should go ahead and get one.”

“Maybe you should,” she agreed. “But I have a feeling most normal jobs won’t interest you. If you’re going to work, might as well work on something you’ll enjoy.”

“Don’t worry,” he said, the gears of his brain already having been kicked into action. “I think I already have something in mind.”

The last time Vernon had met Dr. Curt Connors, it had been as Spider-Man.

It was not an experience he had particularly enjoyed, since it had been one of his bigger fights had had left him with a hairline fracture and a few bruised ribs, holed up in his room for a week to nurse himself. Gym had been worse than usual that Tuesday.

As he pushed through the revolving doors at the entrance of Roxxon Industries, he was already beginning to regret his decision a little bit. Sure, there was no way that Dr. Connors could know his secret alter ego, but the knowledge didn’t help his nervousness one bit.

Plus, with Oscorp pretty much in ruins, the research scientist had shifted his work to a different corporation, and Vernon didn’t know his way around the new building at all. It was a tiny thing to be so worried about, especially for a person who had faced Doc Ock at the age of sixteen, but even the little things seemed big now that he was out job hunting.

Vernon clutched his father’s briefcase tighter, taking his visitor’s pass from the front desk and heading up the escalator to the designated room. Dr. Connors had met Vernon Parker exactly once before, when the latter had shown up at his old laboratory asking about his father, Richard Parker, Connors’s former colleague.

Back then, their conversation had been cut short by a Spidey emergency, and after that the only time he’d been able to see the doctor was while battling him as the Lizard. Vernon had been too afraid to go back afterwards, scared of the decades old formula Connors had developed which turned him into the monster, and what he might discover about his father’s work.

But Dr. Connors had made him a proposal that the boy remembered three months later—that Vernon was always welcome to come work at his lab. Now, the idea of being a simple research assistant didn’t sound very great, especially when the project was so controversial that its funding had been hanging by a thread even at Oscorp, where they weren’t exactly known for their safe experiments. However, biophysics had always been fascinating to him, not to mention the fact that it was his father’s legacy.

He guessed it was about time he went back to claim it.

Vernon stood in front of the door awkwardly, unsure what he was going to say. But he lifted his hand, and he knocked.

“Come in,” came the doctor’s voice from behind the door, and Vernon took a deep breath before pushing the door open and stepping inside.

The room was bigger than he had expected it to be. It definitely wasn’t just an office, with multiple tables and various small instruments and charts held down by random objects acting as paper weights spread across them. Tall shelves lined the wall behind the main desk and the one opposite it, stuffed with old and new volumes. The doctor’s table itself was pushed into a corner to make way for everything else, but despite the packed space, everything was organized. It was a pattern Vernon knew from his own room: order in chaos.

Dr. Connors was standing behind his desk, reading through a paper on a clipboard in his hand. He looked up as Vernon entered, and a range of emotions flashed through his eyes when he saw him—first confusion, then recognition, then fear, then guilt. Finally, the doctor smiled, straightening as he placed the board back on his table.

“Vernon,” he said, and Vernon felt a thrill upon seeing that he remembered his name. “A face I haven’t seen in a long time.”

“Yeah, sorry about that.” Vernon tried to press his lips into a smile, but it probably looked more like a grimace. “I would have come by earlier, but what with midterms and everything happening in the city…” He hesitated. “I was just a little afraid, I guess.”

“I understand,” Dr. Connors said, and it wasn’t just an empty phrase, like he actually understood Vernon’s fear of facing his father’s past. But then, maybe he did. “I would have liked to see you again after our conversation was cut short, but perhaps a few months’ lapse in between was necessary.”

Vernon thought back to the Lizard incident a couple of months ago, when Dr. Connors had injected himself with an underdeveloped serum, turning himself into a giant lizard. “I read your recent article on the lizard formula,” he said slowly.

The doctor’s hand froze on the table for a moment, but relaxed just as quickly. He looked up at Vernon with a gentle sort of intelligence in his eyes, a look so different from the Lizard’s that he had trouble believing they could be the same person. “Did you, now?” he asked. “And what did you think of it?”

“Genius,” he breathed, and Dr. Connors’s eyes lit up even more. “I looked through my dad’s old papers, and cross-checked the changes with your research.” He opened his mouth and closed it again. Better get this over with quickly. “I know this must seem abrupt, but I wanted to ask you something.”

“Go on.” Dr. Connors inclined his head, gesturing at a seat with his good arm. The other one ended up to just above the elbow—a sight that reminded Vernon that it was the doctor himself who had been the first human trial for his cross-species grafting formula.

“The last time we met, you asked me to come work with you in your lab,” Vernon spoke slowly, hesitating between words. “And when I read your paper, I saw that you would continue to research further on the gene splicing and the, uh, the blood-brain barrier and—” He cut himself off, realizing that he had begun to ramble. “I was wondering, after last time, if you could—”

“Take you on in my lab for the research?” Dr. Connors completed his question for him, positively beaming. “Of course! Your father was a genius, and you follow in his stead. It would be a great advantage to have you on the team.” His smile faltered a little. “And then, even after all these years, I owe him my life and its work,” he added in a lower voice. “I’d be glad to have you.”

“Really?” Vernon looked at him with rounded eyes, clutching the case tightly enough that the skin of his knuckles paled. “I—wow. Thanks, Dr. Connors.”

Dr. Connors shook his head. “There will always be a place for Richard Parker’s son at my lab,” he said. “If you’re free, I could show you around the lab now, just so you get the feel of the place. Unless, of course, you’re busy right now, in which case you could swing by later.”

Vernon laughed, relieved and gratified and ridiculously happy. “I have all the time in the world.”

“Great,” Dr. Connors said. “When can you start?”

[rachelkaser]

Stay Golden Sunday: Nice and Easy

Blanche’s niece visits and is a little too much of a chip off the old block. Rose and Dorothy try to figure out what to do about a mouse.

Picture It...

Blanche is preparing for the arrival of her niece, Lucy, who’s in town to interview for a college transfer. Dorothy comes running in from the kitchen, afraid of a mouse that has invaded the home, and Rose’s defense of the mouse fails to sway anyone. Lucy arrives and almost immediately leaves to go on a date with a doctor she met on the plane. Blanche, who can relate to wanting to nab a hot guy, approves of her going.

ROSE: If it weren’t for a mouse, just like that little one in the kitchen, I wouldn’t be sitting here today, telling you this story. *beat* SOPHIA & DOROTHY: Call the exterminator.

The next morning, the mouse is still in the house. Blanche is upset because Lucy never came home, though she does almost immediately as Blanche says that. She spent the whole night with her doctor and now has to prep for her interview. The girls discuss this, with Rose disapproving of Lucy’s sleeping with a man she’s only known a few hours. Dorothy doesn’t want to pass judgement, and Blanche makes a comment that this isn’t in character for Lucy (oh boy, is Blanche out of touch).

Later that day, Lucy returns home from the college interview and tells Dorothy how well it went -- and that she won’t be home that night. She’s going on a date with the man who interviewed her. When she sees Blanche, she asks for permission to go away to the Bahamas, leaving out that it’s with a new man, and Blanche approves. Dorothy tells Blanche the truth and does a 180 on her previous refusal to pass judgement, telling Blanche that Lucy may be going just a bit too overboard with men -- or, as Sophia says, “Girl’s a slut.” Blanche is now more concerned about her niece, and Dorothy recommends that Blanche talk to Lucy when she gets home.

DOROTHY: *after a long story about a promiscuous woman who slept with every man in Sophia’s “godforsaken village”* Ma, what does this have to do with Lucy? SOPHIA: Not a thing. It’s the only slut story I know. *quadruple jumps over Dorothy’s checkers*

A few nights later, Blanche wakes up to see Lucy coming home with a third man, a policeman named Ed, who arrested her interviewer paramour for marijuana smuggling. Now Lucy wants to go home with Ed. Blanche finally sees that Lucy may have a bit of a problem, and puts her foot down -- or tries to, anyway. Lucy refuses to listen when Blanche tells her not to go, saying she’s an adult and can do what she wants, and storms out of the house with Ed close behind.

Blanche recounts the story to the other Girls, unsure what to do. The other Girls point out that Lucy’s at the exact age for a college rebellion. Rose relates what she did during her rebellious phase, with her example being stealing her dad’s truck to meet a boy at a bar as a high school student. Blanche’s stories are a little more sordid, and include multiple instances of running away from home -- though she says her big sister Charmaine always brought her back. Dorothy convinces her to play that role for Lucy, and they all decide to go find Lucy at Ed’s apartment, with the mouse giving them a good jump scare on the way out.

DOROTHY: Maybe Lucy could use a big sister herself right now. ROSE: If she doesn’t already have one, I don’t think it’s humanly possible.

At Ed’s apartment, it turns out his white suit wasn’t just a bad costuming choice -- he’s actually a huge fan of Miami Vice, which Lucy’s never seen. Blanche, Dorothy, and Rose arrive, and Blanche takes Lucy into another room to talk to her. Rose makes a comment about Miami Vice, and Ed goes full fanboy on her, quizzing her on the minutiae of the show and being impressed when she knows all the answers.

Blanche talks to Lucy about how the way she’s behaving around men probably isn’t getting her the kind of attention she wants, and Lucy calls her out on the hypocrisy of her saying that. Blanche points out that she dates men for her own enjoyment, not to boost her self-esteem. Lucy tells Blanche that, after being an ugly duckling in her youth, she enjoys being noticed, but Blanche says the problem is that she’s still the ugly duckling in her head, not loving and respecting herself, and no amount of male attention will fix that. They leave the apartment, with Ed asking if he can call her sometime -- Lucy is flattered, but that question was actually directed at Rose.

ED: Rose, you’re just incredible at Miami Vice trivia. I’ve never met anyone so smart! DOROTHY: Ed, for a policeman, you’ve led a very sheltered life.

Later, Dorothy corners the mouse in the kitchen with a broom in hand, prepared to kill it. However, staring it down, she can’t bring herself to hurt it, and proceeds to talk to it, not noticing Rose walk into the room. She finally tries asking the mouse to leave the way it came, and it does, shockingly. Rose is now convinced Dorothy has the power to talk to animals, much to Dorothy’s bemusement.

Lucy leaves, saying goodbye to everyone. The other Girls ask what Blanche told Lucy to help her change her attitude, and Blanche says she told Lucy that she (Lucy) doesn’t need to rely on sex to be liked. Blanche also adds that she implied that she’s not as promiscuous as she likes to claim in order to deter Lucy, but plays coy on whether or not that’s actually true.

“Rose, are you telling a story or performing Our Town?”

This episode manages to pull off a difficult task, I think, by telling a story about sexual promiscuity that is both sex-positive (in a time before that would have really been a thing), and gently remonstrative. I realize that, given we currently live in the age of Tinder and hook-up culture in general, this episode can come off as a little preachy, but I think the general message, about how no amount of shallow attention will take the place of self-love, is still relevant.

DOROTHY: *to Lucy* We enjoyed having you. SOPHIA: So did half of Miami.

There’s a delicate balance to be found in an episode like this, because it’d be very easy to slip into a Madonna/Whore dichotomy, where a woman seeking pleasure for herself is “bad,” but this is The Golden Girls. One of the main characters of the show is an older woman who talks about sex with the same self-indulgent gusto with which most of us would describe a junk food dinner. Fittingly, Blanche does go out of her way to tell Lucy that there’s not a goddamn thing wrong with enjoying the company of men.

But the thing is, as Blanche points out, Lucy’s not doing this for pleasure or to make a connection with anyone -- she’s doing it because she needs the validation. It’s an old stereotype, but I feel like we’ve all met at least one person who measures their worth by how much attention of their desired sex they receive. And Lucy’s not just acting how she thinks popular girls act -- she’s acting how she thinks Blanche acts, and it’s fitting that it’s Blanche who helps Lucy see that this isn’t what she really wants out of her relationships.

It’s very telling that, when Lucy interrogates Blanche about what she (Lucy) looked like as a child, Blanche says that Lucy was beautiful. Lucy protests, as she didn’t see herself that way, but you never get the impression Blanche is insincere. As she points out, it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks, even the people who think well of you: the important part is loving yourself.

BLANCHE: Let me get a look at you, girl. Mm! Terrific little figure, gorgeous hair, perfect skin. Just like looking in a mirror. SOPHIA: Get some Windex!

It’s a nice sentiment, but the show does kneecap it a little in the final scene when Blanche tells the other Girls that she told Lucy she embellishes the amount of men with whom she’s slept. This bothers me for two reasons: One, we saw the whole conversation between Lucy and Blanche, and Blanche didn’t say that. Two, Blanche just had a scene where she said there’s no shame in having sex with men -- it seems neither in character nor in keeping with the episode’s message for her to get all demure now. I choose to believe she’s just teasing the other Girls and not being strictly serious.

Getting back to Lucy, though, I do have a question: How exactly is she related to Blanche? It’s not uncommon for relatives of the Girls to randomly appear out of nowhere and never be mentioned again after their spotlight episodes -- ironic in this case considering Blanche wants her to transfer to Miami specifically so she can see her more often. You could make a damned riddle out of reconstructing the Golden Girls’ family trees.

For example, we know Lucy is Blanche’s 20-year-old niece, but we don’t know how she’s related to Blanche. Is she Virginia’s daughter? Charmaine’s? Clayton’s? At least when grandson David visited, we knew he was the offspring of Janet. Blanche mentions not wanting to talk to Lucy’s mother about Lucy’s promiscuity because she doesn’t want to breach Lucy’s trust, but the suggestion that that’s who she should go to first suggests to me one of Blanche’s sisters is her parent -- if Blanche’s brother were her father, I think Dorothy would be more likely to say, “You should talk to her father.” Beyond that, though, I have no idea.

ROSE: It wasn’t a rat! it was a cute little mouse. DOROTHY: Rose, it doesn’t wear white gloves and work at Disneyland.

By the way, I don’t mean to be petty, but I have a nit to pick with the Golden Girls Fandom Wiki: It just straight makes up shit about the Girls and presents it as fact. One of the things it makes up is the names and relationships we don’t see in the show. It gives Lucy’s name as “Lucy Warren,” and lists her as the daughter of Virginia and Tom for literally no reason other than “because we said so.” Shape up, guys! I don’t need your headcanons in my tv show encyclopedia!

Though, speaking of encyclopedias, a little trivia for you: The allusions to Miami Vice in this episode aren’t just NBC promoting their other hit show at the time. Miami Vice inadvertently inspired the Golden Girls, as an NBC promo sketch from 1984 had Selma Diamond and Doris Roberts (of NBC shows Night Court and Remington Steele, respectively) ogling Don Johnson, and saying something about a show called “Miami Nice,” about retirees in Florida. I don’t know if any footage of that clip exists -- I sure couldn’t find it -- but Roberts and Diamond’s snappy dialogue and repartee convinced several people within NBC to develop this joke show into the real thing. Several iterations of the idea later, and we got the Golden Girls.

I also enjoy that NBC wasn’t above poking a little fun at itself and the other show. Ed’s apartment is decorated in an unbearably kitsch style, including a life-size fake sheep that Rose spends the entire scene petting. His clothes and self-conscious attempts to look “cool” are lampooned by the Girls, and even Ed admits, in a moment that feels like one set of NBC writers tweaking the collective nose of another, that the salary of an actual Miami police officer isn’t anywhere near enough to fuel the opulent Crockett and Tubbs lifestyle.

ED: Are you a fan of [Miami Vice]? ROSE: I adore it. ED: Me too! Miami Vice has been the biggest influence on my life. That’s why I joined the police force. That’s why I drive a fancy car. That’s why I wear expensive Italian suits. That’s why I’m up to my neck in hock. You can’t afford all that stuff on a vice cop’s salary... Who knew, huh?

Oh, and speaking of Ed, I think he may be one of the earliest and best depictions of a Capital-F Fanboy. He cosplays as Crockett, he attempts to emulate the Miami Vice lifestyle -- hell, it’s influenced his whole career. It’s funny, because his affectations are (rightfully) portrayed as kind of lame and silly, but nowadays I feel like he’d have a six-digit Instagram following and a successful YouTube channel.

Regarding the B-plot of the episode, there’s not much to say, except perhaps it’s the first instance of Rose’s St. Olafian quirks being the main source of conflict  -- in this case, her being convinced that she can talk the mouse into leaving rather than being killed. That’s funny because usually, when Rose’s good-natured idiocy causes a problem, the other Girls more-or-less walk around it, but this is resolved by Dorothy basically doing the exact thing she chides Rose for thinking she can do: Talk the mouse into leaving.

Also, this is going to sound silly, but whoever edited the kitchen scene is a champ. You have Bea Arthur acting at nothing, and B-roll footage of a real mouse on a kitchen set somewhere with an animal handler. Whoever edited it managed to match the perfect little mouse flinches with Bea’s dialogue, so that it really looks like it’s responding to what she’s saying. The best part is when she calls it a rat, and it looks straight at the camera as if to say “Excuse me?” I never thought I’d be praising the acting of a mouse on Golden Girls, but here we are.

Episode rating: 🍰🍰🍰 (three cheesecake slices out of five)

Favorite part of the episode:

ED: *to Rose* Tuesday night, I’m getting together with a couple of buddies. We’re going through Don Johnson’s trash! DOROTHY: Good night, Ed. We’re going to go home now, and I want you to know we’ll all sleep a lot better knowing you’re . . . off-duty tonight.

[on-the-shelves]

on my shelf: soundtrack to my fourth year of uni - summer

I’m finally done with my Bachelor’s thesis! I might make a separate, more detailed post about it, since the topic is relevant for what this blog is about (of course it is haha), but for now I can say my topic was an analysis of the use of elements from the “Pop-Star-System” in building up a girlgroup career. I looked at the history of Pop-Stars and analysed the album covers of the Supremes’ first two albums, as well as the Spice Girls and Girls’ Generation’s first albums/physical releases. It was a lot of work, but I really enjoyed the topic. Oh and if anyone was wondering, I’m doing a Media Studies degree, which is why I could tackle such a cool topic.

Anyway! So working on my thesis took up my entire summer semester because I luckily didn’t have any classes left to attend, so I was thankfully spared the whole online class ordeal. The music I mentioned in my last post (”Quarantunes”) has mostly stayed on repeat in the past few months. Besides an ever steady stream of BTS, there are a couple of new things to add to the list:

Tomorrow X Together: The Dream Chapter: Eternity (2020)

Now THIS is the release I’ve been waiting for from them. Their previous album had one song that had a co-writing credit for one of the members (Hueningkai on “Rollercoaster”), but this album has more! We’re finally starting to hear their writing talents more. “Maze in the Mirror” was written/demo’ed entirely by one member (Beomgyu) and in the process of preparing it for this release the other members also wrote parts. It’s a beautiful, melancholic, and dynamic song that I can highly recommend for listening to before going to sleep. The lyrics talk about how unsure they felt before debuting. I can’t wait to hear more songs where they talk about their personal experiences, because clearly they’re good at it. In general this album is much darker than their previous two releases and they suit them well. The songs are more varied, too: You have the classic TXT style opening song, but the lead single “Can’t You See Me?” is full of angst, which is new for them. “PUMA” is like dark R&B, while “Fairy of Shampoo”, a reworked cover of a popular 1990s Korean song, is more city-pop. And then you have “Eternally” which reminded me of twenty one pilots’ “Ode to Sleep” in the way it completely changes up its style several times throughout the song. It’s all coherent and flows well from top to bottom though, and I think they’re well on their way to carving their own niche in the saturated and often same-same (k-) pop landscape.

Agust D: D-2 (2020)

He finally came back. SUGA of BTS last released a mixtape under his solo moniker Agust D in 2016. That one was very dark, brazen at times, and incredibly open and honest about his struggles, ending on a note of hoping that things will get better. This follow-up release makes it clear that Agust D has become a slightly different person in the past few years. He’s still brazen at times, but he has good reason to be, looking at how incredibly successful BTS has become since 2016. As always, he makes fun of those who decide to be haters but cleverly never gets too specific - if you feel attacked, that’s on you. There is a lot of introspection on this album too. It’s generally much less defeated or dark than on the 2016 self-titled release, but it’s still not all sunshine and rainbows. His problems have morphed -  he has now achieved his dreams, but it’s not quite what he expected it to be. There are a lot of thoughts about dreams, about what it means to grow up, about what his position in the world means and feels like. That sounds like it’s very focused on himself and might be inaccessible to us non-famous people, but that’s absolutely not the case. A lot of it are quite mundane questions that everyone asks themselves in their 20s, like “what am I doing with my life?” and “what kind of person am I really?”. He makes it clear that he doesn’t have the answers, but he somehow makes you feel comforted in that uncertainty. The musical style is more like current hip-hop, where Agust D was more like harder, older hip-hop, but retains his (especially recent) typical, very melodious style, with him even singing some choruses. There are various styles and interesting production choices that make for a varied, but cohesive listening experience. 

Hayley Williams: Petals for Armor (2020)

I mentioned this album in the “Quarantunes” post as well, but the full album was released after that went up, so it deserves another mention here. This album tells a story of an emotional journey towards healing, without ever getting preachy or feeling insincere. In several interviews Hayley mentions her therapy journey and learning to deal with her trauma and how this album helped with that. Listening to all the songs in order, a journey of self-discovery, -acceptance, and -empowerment is laid out. All these things are typically found in little things and learning to change your perspective. It’s Hayley’s most feminine work yet, in the sense that she’s embracing all of her different aspects: the delicate, the powerful, the rage, the love. Everything is wrapped in sounds inspired by Alternative music, but more, as said before, the Björks, Radioheads, and synth-y 80s artists, instead of loud guitar bands. My favourite songs are “Crystal Clear”, “Roses/Lotus/Violet/Iris”, “Over Yet”, “Cinnamon” and “Simmer”.

IU: Palette (2017)

When it was announced that IU and SUGA from BTS (two of the most popular artists in Korea) would release a collab song, I decided to check out her (IU’s) music more intensely, because I only knew one or two of her songs from the Dalkom Café playlist on Spotify. One of them is on this album, “Palette (ft. G-Dragon)”. This album, to me, best encapsulates IU’s sound: from heartbreaking ballads to satisfying light K-R&B, to slightly darker, groovy K-R&B (I think that’s the right genre term..), this one has them all. I’m not the biggest fan of ballads, but I enjoy IU’s voice so much that I don’t mind listening to them at all. I really love it, however, when she leaves that style behind for the slightly darker, or at least more pop sounds, like on “Palette”, but especially on “Jam Jam” and “Black Out”. She has a certain attitude on those songs that are slightly opposite of the pure, innocent image I previously had of her. It seems very sincere though, most likely because she writes on all of her songs. She has been utilising this style more often in recent years, on songs like “Bbibbi” and “Blueming” (both certified bops). “Eight”, the collab with SUGA, is an uplifting, yet bittersweet feeling pop anthem that almost feels like it could’ve been just a little bit longer. I’ll probably dive deeper into her lyrics soon and I’m excited for what I will find.

Sunmi: Warning (2018)

Last summer, Sunmi released the single “Lalalay” and I immediately loved it. I learned the choreography pretty much the week after I heard it the first time. Unfortunately, she didn’t seem to have much other music on her Spotify page though, just a couple of older singles (which I also immediately loved). This year she released “pporappippam” (which is basically the romanization of the Korean title which translates to Purple Night), a bittersweet, nostalgic, summer pop song, like only Sunmi can do. Seriously, no one else in K-Pop is releasing music like hers, and they probably don’t even dare to try. For those who don’t know, she used to be in one of the historically most popular girlgroups Wonder Girls. But besides that, she has been releasing her own style of pop since she started releasing solo music and Warning (which they must’ve only recently put on Spotify in full) is a pretty good encapsulation of that sound. It’s almost like a mix between K-Pop and K-R&B, but more like IU’s moodier songs for example. It’s not flashy and sparkly, but it’s not full-on groove either. It’s a bit of both and it works perfectly for her. 

--

Special mentions for new albums I haven’t listened to that much but do enjoy a lot: HAIM’s Women in Music Part III, Irene&Seulgi’s Monster, Taylor Swift’s folklore (released like a week before this post is published but it’s undeniably good and will get a longer write-up when I’ve had more time with it), Loona’s discography

[perpetually-jungshook]

No Vacancy (2)

Genre: fantasy, ghost!Hoseok, ex boyfriend Jimin, request by @fklve

Warnings: language

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Do you believe in ghosts? You run into some problems after moving into the old house of your late great aunt once removed and you are understandably fed up with his puppy love and good intentions.

Link to: Part 1

Jimin stares at you like you’d just told him your house is haunted. That’s because you did. And it is. Although, it probably doesn’t help that it’s two o’clock in the morning and you look like absolute garbage. Wearing just a sleep shirt and a pair of shorts, you’d walked three miles away from your late aunt once removed’s mansion before you thought of calling him to ask if he could pick you up. Those three miles left you dirty and shivering. Combined with the salt in your hair and your bloodshot eyes, you’re honestly surprised he let you into his car.

Then again, four years of dating someone counts for something, right?

Well the two of you aren’t dating now, he’d left you a few months ago, after you’d moved into that house. Mansion. It’s a mansion.

“So you think there’s… a ghost?” Jimin asks skeptically and rightly so. If someone had said that to you five years ago, even a year ago, you would’ve asked that question in the exact same tone.

“I don’t ‘think’ there’s a ghost, Chim. I know there’s a ghost. His name is Hoseok and he died a decade ago-”

“Let me stop you right there for a second,” he says, holding up a hand. “When was the last time you slept?”

“Yesterday.”

“Have you been drinking?”

“A little. I had like two glasses of wine but that was hours-”

“Have you thought about the possibility that maybe… you’re just tired and seeing things?” Jimin’s voice is soft, yet stern, the way one might expect to be treated by their ex boyfriend who’d thought you’d been scratching him in his sleep and stealing his stuff. He’s also careful, like he thinks you might have lost it. Can you blame him?

You sigh, running your fingers through your hair and dislodging some of the salt. You can feel the little grains brush past your hand.

“I’m not seeing things. But even if you don’t believe me, can I stay at your place? Just tonight so I can figure something out?”

Jimin’s grip tightens on the steering wheel. You can see the movement in his fingers, the strain on his knuckles, then he relaxes.

“One night. Then I’ll drive you back tomorrow.”

“Thank you, Chim.”

He hums in general disapproval and starts the car. You didn’t want to pull him into this, but what other option did you have? Without your wallet, you couldn’t pay for a taxi or hotel and there was no one else you could call. The rest of your family is halfway across the country and your only friend from work dislikes you for the exact same reason Jimin does.

No, wait, that’s incorrect.

Jimin left you because of Hoseok, while your coworker (and you) had left because of a more sinister spirit. Since you first moved in, and after scaring away most of the people you were close to, Hoseok had calmed down. He’d stopped being a major inconvenience, doing things like flooding the bathroom, breaking the dishes, and setting fires. Now he only does silly things, playfully trying to scare you by jumping around corners or appearing behind you in mirrors.

You won’t lie anymore, not even to yourself. Hoseok has become your friend, maybe your best friend. Maybe more. You aren’t sure how to feel. He frequently cuddles you to sleep, cleans up around the house, and holds great conversation. He’s also been dead for ten years and is currently trapped in that mansion with an angry spirit that had been disturbed by recent basement renovations. You aren’t quite sure if it can hurt him, but Hoseok was certainly under the impression that it was going to hurt you.

Jimin lets you sleep on the couch. He’s even nice enough to let you use his shower and borrow some clothes too. Still, you hardly manage to rest and wake up feeling exhausted. You don’t have work though, which means you get to begin the problem solving process immediately.

The ride back to the mansion is tense. Neither you nor Jimin speaks and he shows no mercy, keeping the radio turned off, making you dwell awkwardly in every second of heavy silence.

From the street, the mansion appears exactly how you left it, grossly cliched mostly dead trees, perpetually open iron gates, ivy crawling up the old yet well cared for walls. Morning light makes the scene a little eerie, but mostly soft, a sharp contrast to the darkness of the night before.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, voice sounding breathy, tired, even to your ears.

“Yeah,” Jimin sighs. His tone isn’t cold. It’s more hurt than anything.

You’d loved him, and he’d said he loved you, but when it came down to it, he hadn’t believed you. To give him some credit, you hadn’t believed yourself either. It all sounded crazy at the time. Ghosts? Or ghost, singular. It was only after talking to a sleep therapist (the arrival to which was preceded by a long, long road) that you began to consider the supernatural. You’d been right on the brink of calling a priest when Hoseok revealed himself and apologized, but this was only after Jimin and your best friend had already left.

There’s a pause in the exchange, just a beat, then he continues, “Do you want me to go in with you?”

You’re pretty sure he’s not offering because he’s ready to believe you, but rather because he still cares. If not romantically, then in a humanitarian way. That’s always been how Jimin acts, or at least that’s who he is. He’s likely offering because he wants you to be safe.

“That would be nice, thank you. I can put your clothes in to wash too so you can have them back.”

“That’s okay. You can keep them.”

He unbuckles his seatbelt and meets you at the front of the car. You notice that he decided to stay parked outside the gates. The front door is still unlocked, though you don’t remember having closed it last night when you were fleeing the house.

Jimin visibly tenses, eyebrows pinching, “Did you leave the door open?”

“Yeah, I told you, I was kind of in a rush to get out.”

“What if someone went in there and robbed you?”

“No one’s in there,” you hope you don’t sound too unsure.

“Not even the ghosts?” he surprises you and laughs quietly.

It’s nice to see him smile again.

“Don’t worry. If you want, I can go in first and check it out.”

“You really think I’m letting you go alone in there when I walked all the way from the car just to make sure you don’t go crazy?”

“Go crazy? That seems a little too ‘future tense’ for the situation,” you can’t help feeling relieved at the light teasing, even if it’s at your expense. You need some humor in your life. But now’s probably not the time. “Okay you’re right. First rule of any horror movie. Stick together.”

Both of you take a deep breath, then peek into the house. Everything seems to be in it’s proper place.

“Hoseok?” you call out as both of you enter, looking around.

No moving shadows. No fluttering curtains. No creaking floorboards.

You can tell this is making Jimin uncomfortable, likely for several reasons.

“Hobi? Are you here?”

“What are you doing? I told you to leave,” the familiar voice is a whisper and you can’t pinpoint the origin. It somehow manages to sound like it’s coming from everywhere and just over your shoulder simultaneously.

You can see Jimin stiffen, eyes widening as he looks around. So he heard it too.

“I wanted to talk to you. Are you safe?”

The cold, heavy presence materializes before you, but Hoseok’s body is almost transparent. You know that if you were to reach out, your hand would pass right through him. Beside you, Jimin backs up in surprise, his shoulders hitting a wall as he watches Hoseok, lips opening and closing like he wants to say something but can’t find the words.

Hoseok speaks first, “I’m fine. I don’t know where he went. For all I know, he used up too much energy.”

“But he could come back at any time?”

He nods.

“Couldn’t we… I dunno, talk to him or something? Like I did with you? I mean what has he done that you didn’t?”

Hoseok runs his hand through his dark hair, pushing it back, then pulling at it in what must be frustration.

“I’m not sure. I’ve been here the whole time but he seems to be attached to-”

“Oh my god he’s real,” Jimin suddenly whispers.

Hoseok pauses, staring at the younger man as if noticing him for the first time, “This guy again-? Of course I’m real.”

You bite back the “I told you so” in favor of diverting Hoseok’s attention back to the problem.

“We’ll talk about that later. Hobi, is this ghost attached to the basement?”

“Yeah. And he won’t talk to me, which is what’s making me nervous. The least we can do is have a civil, ghost to ghost conversation right?”

You can feel the hair at the back of your neck prickle. No one knows where the other ghost is, yet the three of you are just standing around. Who knows what he’ll do? If Hoseok scratched Jimin, occasionally drawing blood, what might an angry, more ominous spirit do?

“Maybe he just doesn’t want to talk right now. You weren’t so chatty for the first few months.”

Hoseok sighs, “Okay, point taken. But this is different. I was the only one.”

“Not to sound like a preachy children’s show, but what if he feels like he’s the only one too? You’ve had time to adjust to me moving in. Maybe he’s confused, thinks I’m an invader or something.”

“Holy shit ghosts are real,” Jimin interjects with a breathy voice.

You and Hoseok both ignore him for the moment.

“Then what’s the plan?” Hoseok seems mildly annoyed, a rare emotion for him. “Stay here and risk him hurting you?”

“What other choice do I have?” you ask, trying to keep calm though your heart is beating like a snare drum. “I have nowhere else to live. I can’t sell the house and just give the problem to someone else either. Besides, you’re here.”

Hoseok becomes a bit less transparent as he steps forward, taking both of your hands in his. They’re not warm or solid like you might expect a human hand to be. The sensation is cold, and with his energy depleted, it almost feels like you’re touching feathers, light, airy, not enough.

Your heart hurts.

Hoseok’s voice is thoughtful, careful, “You could cleanse the-”

“If you finish that sentence, I’m gonna…” there’s no way you can finish the threat that interrupts him. There really isn’t anything you can do. And he knows this, but thankfully he can’t do anything about it either.

You continue after an awkward few seconds of silence (save for Jimin’s muttering in the background), “Why don’t you try talking to him again? I’ll wait as long as it takes to make progress. I can sleep in my car or something.”

Hoseok scoffs, “Sleep in your car…”

It’s at this point that you’d expect Jimin to offer his place as an option, but you suspect he’s not doing too well and probably doesn’t want you there.

“Look, Hobi,” you squeeze his hands as a comforting gesture, but all your fingers do is close around the feathery sensation, then feel the warmth of your own hands. “I love you. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

He gives you a sad smile, slowly dropping his arms until they hang by his sides, “I love you too. And that’s why I want you to be safe and happy.”

You glance over at Jimin to make sure he’s not suffocating or something. He’s not. The poor guy is just staring at Hoseok like he’s seen a ghost. Haha, bad joke. Sorry.

“Well what’s gonna make me happy is a good solution to this problem. So I’ll sleep in my car in the street out front and try to not enter the house unless necessary. As long as you’re okay…”

“I’ll be fine,” he assures you.

With that, a packed duffle bag, and a reluctant goodbye, you lead Jimin out of the house and back to his car. The two of you sit there for a few minutes as you allow him to process, now with your keys and wallet in hand.

“Look, Jimin,” you say eventually. “I’m sorry if that freaked you out.”

“Yeah. It did, just a little,” his eyes are wide, much wider than their normal pretty crescents.

You sigh, “That was the same thing I went through when I first moved in. Except no one believed me.”

There’s silence for a few seconds before Jimin replies, his voice small, “I’m sorry. I was wrong.”

He’s never been the type to be proud or a sore loser, so this admission doesn’t necessarily take you by surprise. Jimin’s just always been adamant about needing to see something before he believes them, never rashly jumping to conclusions. It’s one of the qualities you admired— no, it’s one of the qualities you still admire about him.

“Thank you, but… I know how hard it can be,” you try to give him a small smile. “So if you need to talk, you know I’ll be here.”

He lets out an almost humorless laugh, though he does smile genuinely too, “Yeah. And you have to believe me.”

It takes two days of sleeping in your car, taking quick showers with salt nearby, and grabbing the first clothes you can get your hands on before Jimin lets you come back to his house. The couch is much better than your back seat.

It takes two weeks before you’re comfortable being in the mansion for more than a few minutes at a time, though Hoseok doesn’t really have anything new to tell you.

And it takes two months (yes, you do give Jimin compensation in the form of cooked meals and some rent money) before Hoseok finally has good news.

You pull up in front of the tall iron fence, pausing to stare at the house. It looks a lot colder now, not having been lived in for a while. Or maybe that’s just the change in season. A chilly wind bites at your cheeks and nose as you jog up the driveway and to the front door.

As you open it, you can hear someone sigh.

“Hey Hobi. Any news?” you ask when you see him leaning against the hallway wall.

Hoseok gives you a small smile, “Yeah. He wants to speak with you.”

“He-? Oh. Is he going to hurt me?”

“I asked him not to,” Hoseok’s eyes are wide, lips tightly pressed into a thin line when he stops speaking.

You’re about to respond, but then a figure steps out from the living room doorway. He’s taller than Hobi, more formally dressed in a suit with a bullet hole in the left lapel. His eyes are still cold and dead, but the menacing presence is no longer overwhelming.

“Hello,” he says, voice deep, measured. “My name is Namjoon.”

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

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[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Rafael Barba v. Jack McCoy / Order (Part One)

Imagine Rafael Barba and Jack McCoy going head to head on a case! 

This happened because I was waaaaay too excited by the news that Jack McCoy is going to be on SVU next season. I literally am sooo thrilled though guys. McCoy’s first appearance since 2010! So this is just something I imagined up! Part two will probably be up tomorrow. I’m actually going on a tour of the Supreme Court tomorrow sooo this is quite fitting. Enjoy!

He had heard the rumors, of course. 

Who hadn’t at this point? Not when the secrets of the District Attorney’s office leaked worse than a hole-ridden roof in the eye of a hurricane. The secrets came pouring out of somewhere, and ended up on the news one way or another. Reporters were vermin: plug one hole, and they’ll chew two more. And although, Rafael Barba wasn’t the type to rush to judgement, (no matter how ironic that sounded), he couldn’t help raise a few eyebrows at the things that would come to light. He knew that being working in the District Attorney’s office was not an easy position to hold for so many years, even before he worked there. Before anyone’s accepts the position, they must know the consequences that come along with it: constantly scrutinized in the public’s eye for what you didn’t do, and what you did do. And both would remain relevant in the office’s reputation for many years.  

For better and worse. 

Jack McCoy was a no-nonsense E.A.D.A., infamous even before he came into Manhattan for various reasons, as “High ‘em High McCoy.” He quickly became known as the man who would constantly push the law, forcing it forward, whether it wanted to or not. His words would convince even the sternest of judges, and on the occasions they wouldn’t concede to his argument (or his charm for that matter), he would still trudge forward, even bypassing the law at times, landing him in jail over eighty times for contempt. A record unsurpassed by none. He was also a fan of scare tactics, incurring charges that wouldn’t stick, arresting innocent people to testify, and even breaking the law to see the case through. 

Yes, Jack McCoy was about justice through and through, whether it included the law or not. He was the order that reigned over Manhattan for several years. 

Though not everything in his life reflected that same order. 

His daughter and he, for one, had a more than complex relationship, hitting the tabloids during McCoy’s race to become permanent D.A. of Manhattan. He also had a tenuous relationship with his bosses, often disregarding or completely ignoring their instructions. It also had been revealed that his father, a decorated police officer had been abusive, not only towards suspects, but his own son as well. However that was barely a blemish compared to the rest. 

The more “outlandish” things he was known for were his numerous affairs with his A.D.A.s, four to be exact. One of whom he had married, and the other three he had dated. Rafael scoffed at people’s interest in this matter. If they were consenting adults, what did it matter to them? However, he couldn’t ignore the circumstances of one of his relationships, landing an innocent man in jail. No, that wasn’t order, it was disorder if anything. 

But that didn’t erase the good McCoy did the office, up through his retirement from the D.A.’s office. He remained a standard, a beacon of what A.D.A.’s should strive, a keen sense of justice, but also surpass, by obeying the law. But now that standard stood on the opposite side of the aisle, his previous position taken by none other than Rafael himself. 

The silver haired man stood on the other side of the courtroom, buttoning his navy coat, as he approached the jury with a friendly smile. His clothes were the same as always, not as pristine as most wore to coat, certainly not the level Rafael dressed, but he made up for it in charm. “The story of this case is simple, not how Mr. Barba paints it,” He started his opening statement, “Mr. James Delaney is a twelve year old boy, who had spent his entire childhood being beaten and battered by his father, even to the point where hc couldn’t attend school for several weeks, and now he is before you in a courtroom, when he should be in a classroom. He has Pokemon posters on his wall, he still hasn’t outgrown his Spiderman pajamas,” He chuckled, shaking his head at the thought, as he paced in front of them, before gesturing to the boy who sat before them “I will not deny that James killed his father, that he took the gun from his father’s unlocked firearms cabinet and shot him, but what I will prove is that James had spent his entire childhood in fear for his life, including the night he murdered his father, but he is no cold blooded killer.” He stopped in his tracks. “It is Mr. Barba’s stance that James should be sent be prosecuted as an adult for his crime, locked up with hardened criminals. That much speaks for itself, and if all of you decide to place the label of killer upon James, nothing in his life will change. He will just become a victim, to another man much like his father, but perhaps worse.” And unlike Mr. Barba thinks,” Barba’s eyes flickered up from his notes at the mention of his name. Jack turned on his heel to face the jurors. “Jail is no place for a boy like James Delaney.” 

After opening statements, Rafael practically ran into Jack on his way out, and Rafael gave a friendly smile, shaking his hand. “Not bad for being out of the courtroom for a few years?” 

Rafael gave a noncommittal shrug, “A bit preachy, but none worse for the wear,” Rafael slipped his binder into his bag, walking alongside Jack. “How are you, Jack?” 

“Better if I knew if you were open to a deal,” Rafael frowned, slowing his steps, as Jack loosened his tie, causing his collar to go askew. 

“Are you that unsure of your case?” He quirked an eyebrow. Jack McCoy wasn’t the type of man to cut deals, nor was he the type to make them. 

“No,” Jack slipped his hands into his pockets, “I’m that sure that James Delaney doesn’t belong in jail, and I’d like to spare him the trauma of a trial,” 

Rafael considered his, evaluating Jack’s demeanor. He was known not to shy away from smoke and mirrors, but as Rafael took in his expression, he realized there were none, only honesty, and something else. 

Pain. 

“Jack,” Rafael pulled him aside, “I can’t cut a deal, but not for the reasons you think,” He sighed, as he crossed his arms. “This case is too close to you, with your history, I think you should have someone else take over the case,” 

Jack shook his head, a sad smile on his face, “That’s exactly why I have to stay,” And without another word, he walked away, stepping into the elevator. 

Tension only grew as the trial progressed, though Rafael had met his burden of proof, the judge tossing aside McCoy’s motion for dismissal, the battle was far from won. Although, Rafael could see the merits of Jack’s stance and argument, even the defendant’s position, one that Rafael himself knew well. But Rafael couldn’t condone murder. Not even for this. Rafael flinched when he looked at the evidence that he had put in a motion before the judge. Especially not when McCoy wanted to admit images of the abuse that James’s mother had captured of James’s abuse. 

“The evidence only serves to unduly influence the jury into feeling bad for the defendant,” Rafael said, irritation evident in his tone. 

“That is not a determination Mr. Barba can make, and  would this even be an issue if Mr. Barba was trying to show images of a victim to the jury?” Jack added, as Judge Ramirez looked between Rafael and Jack. 

“Good to see you again, Jack, though the circumstances are quite...different,” Rafael felt his stomach sink as Jack grinned at the judge. 

“Different or not, I still stand for justice, Judge,” 

And just like that, Rafael’s argument was tossed aside and the photos were allowed in. Rafael followed after Jack, and before the doors closed, managed to slip in. “You have something to say, counselor?” First name basis has slipped away, as Jack looked quite pleased with himself. Rafael scowled at him, looking at the doors of the elevator shut. “Are you considering my offer?” 

Rafael swallowed his own pride, “Depends on what the offer is,” 

“Nothing less than time done in a mental health facility,” Jack stated, as Rafael’s mouth fell open. “And the charges are expunged from his record after he turns 18.” 

“A slap on the wrist for shooting his sleeping father in the face?” The doors opened and Jack stepped through them, only to run into a familiar face. 

“Detective, or rather should I say, Lieutenant,” Jack shook her hand, as Olivia stepped to Rafael’s side, “How are you? I heard you have a son now,” 

“Yes, his name is Noah, he’s…” She smiled, shaking her head. “amazing,” She shifted her gaze from Jack to Rafael, who had remained silent this entire time. “Am I interrupting something?” 

“Not at all,” Jack waved her off, clapping her on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you two, and I”ll see you tomorrow when I present my case,” And with that, he left out the double doors. 

“What was that?” Olivia blinked, glancing at Rafael who only stared at the doors he had left through. 

“A warning,” 

[vileart]

Good Dramaturgy: Jack Rooke @ Edfringe 2017

SOHO THEATRE IN ASSOCIATION WITH UNDERBELLY PRESENT

JACK ROOKE: HAPPY HOUR

UNDERBELLY COWGATE, BELLY BUTTON

WRITTEN AND PERFORMED BY JACK ROOKE DIRECTED BY CHARLOTTE BENNETT

UK PREMIERE

A brotherly love letter to a friend that went too soon.

Cowgate, Belly Button

Thu 3 – Sun 27 August (not 14) 17:20 (18:20). 60 mins.

Happy Hour explores the lives of young men Jack’s known who have struggled with mental illness whilst figuring out their identity. In particular Jack’s close university friend Olly, who two years ago took his own life after battling depression. Bored of talking about talking - Jack believes there’s currently stagnation in the national mental health conversation - Happy Hour will take audiences on a comedic journey using music, films and research to explore realistic solutions to mental health in this country.

What was the inspiration for Happy Hour? Honestly and don't judge me, I just got so fed up of hearing people talk about mental health in a way that I felt was a bit empty and driven by talking about talking and not actually solving the issue at hand. This show is a very honest, comedic, theatrical and political exploration of the mental health crisis affecting vulnerable people, but at the same time its a really simple show.  It's just me reading a brotherly love letter I've written to some male friends of mine, one in particular who forms the crux of the show. He's someone I discussed a lot recently in my BBC Three series Happy Man, and this show is definitely sort of connected to that series. This is almost everything that series wouldn't allow me to say due to the processes of TV. Happy Hour is allowing me to take that conversation on, one step further.   Is performance still a good space for the public discussion of ideas? I'm unsure about that one. I guess it is but only in few cases. Only some shows get it right. I think Backstage In Biscuitland did, I think Monkey See Monkey Do did, I think Tar Baby did - but on the whole performance isn't really the radical, idea-shifting platform that I believe a lot of theatre-makers believe it is.  We live in the world of the campaigner right now. Every brand, every idol, every organisation seemingly feels like they're launching a campaign. And they feel the same - they involve the purchase of one thing, whether that be a product or a ticket, and in exchange customers feel like they're doing something good. I've just seen one this morning for bees wax lip balm, where if you buy a really expensive lip balm then the company will plant like a zillion flowers. 

I can't help but feel that working class, cynical me is just rolling my eyes a lot at the moment at this culture and it's very apparent in theatre. Maybe I'm being a dickhead - who knows, I just feel like actually the best space for a public discussion of ideas that lead to  change, is where a wide section of society are able to engage, voice their views and their experiences.  Sadly I think performance, especially in Edinburgh, is still too classist, too elitist and the microphone is still in the hands of the most privileged kids in Britain being pumped out the most privileged institutions in the land.  If you come to Happy Hour, I might get on my preachy high-horse at one point, but this show isn't a campaign. There's no hashtag for this production. It's just a really honest funny story that I think says everything that isn't being said about the mental health issue in Britain.  If that prompts public discussion then brilliant, but also I'm representing characters in this show who are the ones suffering a severe limitation on ambition, wealth and happiness. I hope a fringe audience can see that and think about what could genuinely help that group, outside of my self-indulgent, autobiographical show.  How did you become interested in making performance? Accidentally! I ran out of money to make a documentary called Good Grief and then the Arts Council got involved and said "turn it into a live show and use the films you already have and we can help fund you" and voila! Good Grief the show came about and I somehow ended up a performer.  But I studied Journalism and documentary-making is my main passion because I think I like giving as much as possible, actual real-life characters their own voice. That's why my Nan played such a prominent part in Good Grief, because I felt like I didn't want to be her voice. She is the best person to do that herself.  Is there any particular approach to the making of the show? I'm not a sit down at my laptop writer. I'm more of a "speak into a microphone and transcribe what I said" kind of writer. I very rarely edit the first thing I say because the first thing you say is often the most honest. With Happy Hour though, it's a proper theatre commission from Soho Theatre, with a proper director and a proper team behind it whereas Good Grief was just me and some mates.  So the approach this time round has been slightly more formal, but not too much so. They have just let me go away and get on with it.  I'm a scatty useless prick most of the time so it's a bit cut and paste, but I'm fine with that. I'm not really about slickness, it doesn't excite me that much.  I'm more about making an honest, subversive, powerful narrative that is rooted in empathy and helping people and making people happy and laugh.  Does the show fit with your usual productions? Yeah, this is definitely a follow-up to Good Grief. It sort of picks up where Good Grief ended. It's more grown-up, more reflective. Lets say I learnt a lot from my 2015 Gareth Vile review in The List haha and I've genuinely tried to take on board what you in particular said.  And even though I really disagreed with one line in your review, there were 3 or 4 other lines I learnt a lot from and that's where I really believe in the critic-performer relationship.  So I hope you like it Gareth or else I'll ban you from ever coming back to Watford 😉   What do you hope that the audience will experience? I hope they experience the absolute bloody sheer love I have for the friend in particular I have written this show to. It's a love unlike romance or obsession, it's just really one big thank you letter to the most impactful, wonderful man I've ever met. And if audiences can see and feel that love, despite the anger that's also in the show, then I think I've done my job properly.  from the vileblog http://ift.tt/2u4Crg3

[performingtheartsrp]

We received a fantastic application for Brittany Pierce, and we’re really excited to have Akia join our family. Please take a moment to go over the New Member Checklist, and send in your account within 24 hours.

OOC:

NAME: Akia

PREFERRED PRONOUNS: She/Her

AGE: 999 and counting

TIMEZONE: CST

ACTIVITY LEVEL (1-10): 4 or 5/10. I work full time and Im in a coding bootcamp so even when I’m all be studying.

OLD ROLEPLAY ACCOUNTS: RFP

ANYTHING ELSE: RFP

IC:

CHARACTER’S NAME: Brittany Susan Pierce

CHARACTER’S BIRTHDAY: October 7th 1993

CHARACTER’S SEXUAL ORIENTATION: Bicorn

SHIPS: Brittany Chemistry

ANTI-SHIPS: Brittany/Forced

MIDGAME SHIPS: Brittany/Mike, Brittany/Finn, Brittany/Tina, Brittany/Puck, Brittany/Mercedes, Brittany/Santana, Brittany/Jane, Brittany/Jake,  Brittany/Dani,  I mean Brittany and all the sexytimes, really. Britt has a huge heart but isn’t necessarily seeking out for a romantic relationship.  

CHARACTER TWEETS:  This is especially important because you’re playing a celebrity, and they will definitely be using social media.

           @brittstein_bagels: Get in formation and get information!

           @brittstein_bagels: My turtle is not a ninja, but I still love him.                            #bestMomEvah

           @brittstein_bagels: Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles,                    leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of        hope. - Maya Angelou

BIOGRAPHY:

When the spotlight is all you know the attention never seems strange, at least that is how things were for Brittany Susan Pierce.

One fateful day, Whitney Pierce was out shopping for ceramics for an art piece she was working on, when a poster caught her eye. “Most Beautiful Baby”? The words escaped from her throat with a quiet sigh. It was a problematic thing really, beauty pageants for babies, but as she looked down at the giggling, blonde, blue eyed, bundle of joy attached to her front, she thought ‘why not’. Her husband, unlike her, thought the idea was brilliant when she semi-jokingly brought up the contest later that night. Whitney Pierce was artist, whose work barely sold at local fairs. Pearce Pierce was an aspiring motivational speaker, but since he hadn’t done anything particularly spectacular in life, the offers for his services weren’t exactly rolling in, so he made money selling Mary Kay products. Though Pearce’s sells were surprisingly higher than most would have thought the young family’s finance were pretty unstable. Winning a contest like that could mean starting a college fund for their little one.

At the tender age of nine-months-old Brittany Pierce won over the judges with her beauty but even more so, her already bright unique personality. She won the “most beautiful baby” contest and piqued the interest of a few talent agents. One agent in particular, Estelle Leonard, impressed the Pierces a great deal with her pitch and Brittany was signed with her a week later. A string of print modeling jobs followed and those jobs opened the door to commercials. Brittany’s joy translated so clearly to the camera and casting agents loved her. She was cast in a short lived sitcom at age three. The show’s writing and overall premise wasn’t well received by audiences and only lasted a season but Britt stole every scene was a buzz began to grow. She landed a role in a summer action blockbuster as the lead actor ’s young daughter and she loved every minute of it. From then on the parts just kept coming and growing in importance with respect to the project.

Brittany loved set life. Everyone was so nice to her, she got to play make believe, and there were always treats around. The only downfall tended to be the very noticeable lack of kids around. Chatting with adults sometimes bored Britt to tears so she’d find ways of entertaining herself. Her favorites tending to be finding books on complicated subjects and figuring them out as quickly as she could, reading fantastical stories that only expanded her already large imagination, or dancing around set to whatever top forty song was on the radio at the time. Though, she was kept extremely busy, and she had a new baby sister, she missed the hole left by not having friends her own age. That all changed when six year year old Brittany Pierce landed her first main character role in the Disney Channel sitcom Life on the Wild Side. It’s six year run came to a surprising (for Brittany at least) and heartbreaking end. It was difficult saying goodbye to the family she’d collected, especially Noah.

The cancellation Life on the Wild Side did not slow things down for Brittany at all because she  immediately landed a lead role in an ABC sitcom about a large blended family dealing with everyday life together. The show was an instant bonafide hit. Fame had took on a whole new level and she got a new TV family to love help with cure her sadness about the old one. Wishing on that shooting star definitely paid off.

Brittany saw the world in a unique way. There was magic everywhere and just because other people were entirely too jaded to see it didn’t mean that she couldn’t, and it certainly didn’t make her any less intelligent. In fact, Brittany had always been able to pick up everything she found interest in extremely quickly. That ranged from script lines, to dance step to complicated math equations. She spent the show’s hiatuses taking dance lessons, taking on new movie roles, and challenging her set teachers to challenge her. It became a sort of game, trying to find typical academic challenges that she couldn’t master. When Brittany was thirteen, the same year she graduated high school, one of her teachers brought in a Mensa admission test as a “farewell gift” and surprise, no surprise, Britt became a member.

After a 4 successful seasons, on Our Family, Brittany decided she needed a break. There were tears and heartfelt goodbyes, but in all honesty she was so exhausted she couldn’t think clearly most of the time. She’d decided earlier in the year that she wanted to give college a try. She wanted to experience life like most other people did, without photographers and crazy schedules and endless meetings with a bunch of old white dudes. Britt had a whole new life to look forward to.

Starting college as a famous sixteen year old was not easy, but Britt was up for the challenge. Eventually, she charmed the her fellow students and the professors. Most people liked her, though some were a bit mean, but she just chalked their cranky pants up to the fact that they probably hadn’t gotten laid in a very long time, their depression over never receiving their Hogwarts letter (she was a little sad about that herself), or plain old jealousy because it didn’t get much more awesome than her. College was over all everything she’d hoped for, even the difficult times. She had a diverse group of friends, she was learning new things about herself every day.

Brittany graduated from Stanford with an Applied and Engineering Physics degree. She felt accomplished but desperately missed performing. It had been something that tugged at her spirit for a while but she had to see that particular part of her journey she was on through. Britt moved to LA, contacted Estelle, her childhood agent and explained she was looking to get her feet wet again. While waiting to hear from Estelle, she took dance and improv classes to stretch some unused muscles. Getting the role on Performing The Arts seemed like the perfect opportunity. She’d be reentering the world of performing surrounded by newbies who were possibly as unsure as she was.

YOUR CHARACTER’S HEAD CANON FOR THEIR CHARACTER:

Olive is family oriented and very much rooted in her faith. It brings her peace knowing there is something bigger out there, a greater purpose. She isn’t preachy about it but she isn’t shy about it either if asked. She does a lot of charity with her family and her youth group, in fact, most of her time outside of school is spent doing something connected with her church. Though her faith is important to her she misses having a life outside of it. She sometimes wants to be a teen like everyone else, go to parties and waste time at the mall. It’s hard for her to express that without feeling like she is betraying her faith so she just stays on her personal path most traveled. Sometimes her frustrations with having to defend her beliefs gets to her. She generally doesn’t let the other kids get to her, but having strong beliefs can be isolating and that can be difficult to deal with. Olive is struggling with finding a balance and figuring out if she is as whole person outside of “Extra Virgin Olive Oil.”