#new england history isn't that hard to look up people just set the show in Massachusetts and you were FINE

[likeabxrdinflight]

Am I the only one who cares about the historical accuracy of depictions of puritans in popular media or...

[noneedtoamputate]

Happy holidays, @land-sh. I'm your HBO War Secret Santa, and I hope you like this modern holiday AU featuring Ron and Carwood. I know you don't live in the United States, so I wanted to let you in on a few things in case you didn't know (and my apologies if you already know). The Pentagon, where Ron works, is home to the U.S. Departmen of Defense, and Instacart is an app where you can order groceries and get them delivered to your house. Fair warning for anyone else reading, it's just a tad spicy toward the end. I hope you enjoy it and have a wonderful holiday season, no matter how you celebrate!

Ron stared at the calendar hanging in the kitchen. If looks could set paper ablaze, the month of December would have burnt to a crisp thirty seconds ago.

He took another sip of his steaming black coffee, careful not to let any get on his Army dress uniform.

He took the calendar down from its hook and walked over to the kitchen table they purchased three years ago, when Ron accepted a desk job at the Pentagon and Carwood left active service and started teaching history at a local high school. 

Car’s messy handwriting filled almost all of the squares. He had Army reserve duty the first weekend of the month, and as assistant coach of the boys’ junior varsity basketball team, there were practices or games almost every weeknight up until holiday break. There was the neighborhood cookie exchange, where he promised to make his famous gingerbread people, and then there was the Santa Paws fundraising event at the humane society. Car volunteered to dress up as Santa.

Ron’s small, neat cursive only filled Mondays for his personal training appointments and on December 22, with one word and arrow ending on December 30.

Home.

No one at work would ever guess that Lt. Col. Ronald Speirs loved Christmas. He loved the lights, the movies, the gifts, and, most importantly, being with the people he loved. He hadn't made it back to his parents in Massachusetts for the holidays since moving to Washington. He finally had enough seniority in his department to take an entire week off in December.

He couldn't wait to taste his mother’s shortbread, to be spoiled by his sisters, to take his nieces and nephews sledding. There really was nothing like Christmastime in New England. 

He heard Car come down the stairs of their townhouse. He wore a black turtleneck sweater, fitted tan pants, and loafers. If Ron’s teacher had looked as half as good as Car, Ron would never have passed U.S. History. 

Car smiled at him as he walked over to the coffee maker. 

“The calendar’s getting pretty full,” Ron said, trying to sound casual.

“December’s always busy,” Car replied as he sat down across from his husband. “But not too busy that we can't find time for each other.”

“Movies?” Ron asked. 

“Of course. Die Hard. Love Actually. We’ll watch them all.”

Ron leaned closer. 

“And we’ll drive around to look at the lights?” Ron was a sucker for Christmas lights.

Car nodded. “I’ll drive, so you can really look at the displays.”

Ron smiled. “Well, if that isn't love, I don't know what is.” He reached over to kiss Car.

“I gotta run.” Car picked up his travel mug. “Have a good day. I love you.”

“Love you, too,” Ron replied.

He finished his coffee and tried to get into work mode, the mode where no one would guess he loved watching Home Alone with his husband and dog and a fire roaring in their living room.

*

The next week, Ron looked at the calendar again. 

He was not happy.

“Why do you have ‘choir concert’ filled in on Wednesday?” Ron asked as Car buttered his toast.

“Yeah, about that …” Car trailed off as he nervously scratched his head. “Mrs. Ramirez needed some help setting up for the holiday show.”

“That was supposed to be movie night.” Ron tried not to sound too upset. 

“I know,” Car conceded. “Practice gets out early Friday night. We’ll have movie night then. I’ll even make the popcorn.”

“With extra butter?” Car nodded, Ron’s mouth curled up into what was almost a smile.

“It's a date,” Ron replied, and gave his husband a kiss.

But movie night never happened. A student teacher’s car wouldn't start in the faculty parking lot. Car tried jumping it, and when that didn't work, he waited while they called a tow company and gave them a ride to their apartment. 

By the time Car got home, Ron didn't feel like watching anything. 

“What was I supposed to do?” he asked Ron. “I couldn't just leave them there.”

“Of course not,” Ron agreed. 

But Ron lost his patience the following week when he walked into their home office and saw Car furiously typing away on the computer keyboard. 

“Dinner’s ready,” Ron said. He stood behind Car and put his hands on Car’s shoulders, giving them a gentle rub. 

Car moved away from Ron’s touch and rubbed his temples. 

“What's the matter?” Ron asked. 

“Two students asked for recommendation letters at the last minute. I need to finish these tonight.”

Ron narrowed his gaze. “You could have said no.”

Car sighed. “No, I couldn't. They’re great kids. Smart, responsible …”

Ron cut him off. “Asking for a recommendation letter at the last minute isn't responsible.”

The two just stared at each other. 

“You need to eat,” Ron finally said.

“I'll grab something when I'm finished.” Car went back to looking at the monitor. 

“And I guess this means no looking at lights tonight.” Ron crossed his arms.

Lulu came into the room and nuzzled up to Car, looking for some love. 

“Can you take her? I can't focus with her with trying to get attention “

“You don't even have time for the dog?” Ron asked, no longer hiding his anger. He leaned down to pet Lulu. “C’mon, girl, let's go for a walk.”

Ron set off on a good clip toward the park, Lulu happily keeping up the pace. 

Why does he do this? Why does he put everyone first?

He felt disloyal asking himself the question, because the way Car looked out for people was one of the reasons Ron loved him so much. 

Ron hated admitting that he felt jealous of all the attention Car had shown other people this month while making no time for him, or so it seemed.

And sadness crept over him. They seemed so distant over the last few weeks. No cuddling on the couch, binging the latest series. No long conversations over dinner. No spooning in bed before falling asleep.

And certainly no sex.

The brisk air and exercise cleared his head a bit, but he still paused for a second before opening the front door. The house stood quiet, and the chicken tetrazzini on top of the stove remained untouched. 

He threw the baking dish back into the oven to reheat and poured dog food into Lulu’s bowl. He ate dinner alone. He rinsed the dishes and loaded them into the dishwasher. He sorted the mail and cleaned out the fridge. When he ran out things to do, he poured himself two fingers of Scotch and tried to read a book, but he read the same page over and over. It was only 9:30 pm, and he wasn't tired, but he gave up and got ready for bed. 

It was just before midnight when Car finally made it upstairs. He didn't say anything as he took off his clothes and slipped into bed, staying far away from Ron’s side. 

“You're going to wear yourself out,” Ron said quietly.

“I'll be fine,” Car replied. Soon, his deep breaths signaled that he was asleep.

Ron put his hands behind his head and stayed awake for two more hours.

*

On the morning they planned to leave for Ron’s parents, Car woke up with the flu: Body aches, chills, and a pounding headache.

He wouldn't admit it. “Maybe I'll feel better tomorrow,” he told Ron. 

Ron titled his head to one side and gave Carwood that Ron Speirs look.

“It's possible,” Car said meekly, not really sounding convinced himself.

Ron called his mom and dad and explained the situation. Though disappointed, they completely understood and sent their love to Car.

He put in an Instacart order. There was not a lot of food in the house, as they planned to be gone for a week. Plenty of Gatorade, rice, bananas, bread for toast. All the ingredients for chicken soup, and easy meals for Ron to eat in between caregiving duties. 

The next day, he felt even worse. Ron added another bedspread on top of him for warmth and plugged in a heating pad for him to use. 

“You don’t need to stay here. Go to your parents. I can take care of …” Before Car get the last word of the sentence out, he started coughing. 

Ron rubbed his back. 

“I'm sorry,” Car said, once he caught his breath.

“No reason to apologize for coughing,” Ron replied. 

“No, not the coughing. For …” He started coughing again. 

Ron took a deep breath. He’d been trying to avoid thinking about what he was missing at home. His family, the epic games of Yahtzee, his mom's roast lamb on Christmas Day. 

But he knew Car hadn't gotten sick on purpose. If Ron had gotten sick right before they were supposed to go to West Virginia for the holidays, Car would have taken care of him without a second thought.

“It's okay,” Ron said. 

Ron couldn't have said that the day before and meant it. But today, he did.

*

On Christmas Day, Car felt well enough to get into the shower by himself. They exchanged gifts. Ron bought Car a new messenger bag for work, and Car bought Ron the watch he’d had his eye on for a while. Ron made chicken soup for lunch, and they finally watched Home Alone together on the couch. Car felt asleep halfway through, but Ron could tell he was finally on the mend. 

The rest of the week was mainly more of the same. Ron would make something for lunch, and they would watch one of the holiday movies they never got around to before Car got sick: Gremlins, Miracle on Thirty-Fourth Street, It's a Wonderful Life. Each day, they would sit a little closer on the couch to one another, hold hands, spoon. 

New Year’s Eve arrived, and Car felt great. They had an invitation to a party, but they decided it was bit soon to go out.

Ron, being a great cook, made steak and lobster tails for lunch. They splurged on a bottle of good champagne and talked and laughed like they hadn't the entire month of December. 

They turned on a football game, and Ron fell asleep before halftime. He woke up to the feeling of Car’s fingers in his hair.

“I didn't mean to take a nap,” he said, reaching for his husband's hand. 

“You needed it. You've been taking care of me all week.”

Ron stroked Car’s cheek and reached in for a kiss. 

They started slow, almost uncertain, the tension of the last few weeks still present. But then Car traced his tongue along Ron’s earlobe, a surefire way to get Ron hard. Wordlessly, they walked upstairs to the bedroom.

Car started undressing Ron, taking his time. Ron hadn't realized how touch starved he was for Car's hands and lips. He kissed his neck and worked his way down, nuzzling Ron’s chest with his stubble and gently biting Ron’s nipples. Ron couldn't help letting out a moan, and he could feel Car smile against him.

He let out an actual groan when Car grabbed him, stroking him exactly the way he liked. He put the head of Ron’s cock in his mouth and teased him, before taking it all in.

Ron tried to pull away, but Car shook him off. “I want to take care of you,” he said. 

Ron realized that for all the things Car did for other people, he would only do this for Ron. This was just for the two of them. He had no reason to be jealous.

Ron realized and ran his fingers through Car’s hair, staying in the moment and taking in every sensation. He knew he wouldn't last long, and that it wouldn't matter. 

Ron said his husband’s name as he came, and Car kept him in his mouth and teased the inside of his thighs as he came down. He took Ron in his arms, and Ron lay his head on Car’s chest. 

Another thing no one at the Pentagon would guess was how much Ron loved the time after making love, when they would hold each other and talk quietly. He didn't used to, not before he met Car. It was one of the ways he knew Car was the man for him. 

They stayed quiet for longer than usual, enjoying the closeness.

“I am sorry you didn't make it home for Christmas,” Car finally said. “You said was okay, but I know how much it meant to you.”

Ron kissed him. “I was home for Christmas.” He looked the man who meant everything to him in the eye.

“You are my home.”

[olderthannetfic]

I'm a Chinese, nationally and racially. Racial projection seems to be a common practice in western fandom, doesn't it? I find it a bit... weird to witness the drama ignited upon shipping individuals with different races, or the tendency to separate characters into different "colors" even though the world setting doesn't divide races like that. Such practice isn't a thing here. Mind explaining a bit on this phenomenon?

--

Sure, I can try. But of course, fish aren’t very good at explaining the water they swim in.

Americans aren’t good at detecting our own Americanness, and a lot of what you’re seeing is very much culturally American rather than Western in general. (In much of Europe, “race” is a concept used by racists, or so I’m told, unlike in the US where it’s seen more neutrally.) Majority group members (i.e. me, a white girl) aren’t usually the savviest about minority issues, but I’ll give it a shot.

The big picture is that most US race stuff boils down to our attempts to justify and maintain slavery and that dynamic being applied, awkwardly, to everyone else too, even years after we abolished slavery.

There’s a concept called the “one drop rule” where a person is “black” if they have even one drop of black blood.

We used to outlaw “interracial” marriage until quite recently. (That meant marriage between black people and white people with Asians and Hispanic people and others wedged in awkwardly.) Here’s the Wikipedia article on this, which contains the following map showing when we legalized interracial marriage. The red states are 1967.

That’s within living memory for a ton of people! Yellow is 1948 to 1967. This is just not very long ago at all. (Hell, we only fully banned slavery in 1865, which is also just not that long ago when it comes to human culture.)

Why did we have this bananas-crazy set of laws and this idiotic notion that one remote ancestor defines who you are? It boils down to slavery requiring a constant reaffirming that black people are all the same (and subhuman) while white people are all this completely separate category. The minute you start intermarrying, all of that breaks down. This was particularly important in our history because our system of slavery involved the kids of slaves being slaves and nobody really buying their way out. Globally, historically, there are other systems of slavery where there was more mobility or where enslaved people were debtors with a similar background to owners, and thus the people in power were less threatened by ambiguity in identity.

Post-slavery, this shit hung around because it was in the interests of the people in power to maintain a similar status quo where black people are fundamentally Other.

A lot of our obsession with who counts as what is simply a legacy of our racist past that produced our racist present.

--

The other big factor in American concepts of identity is that we see ourselves as a nation of immigrants (ignoring our indigenous peoples, as usual). A lot of people’s families arrived here relatively recently, and we often don’t have good records of exactly where they were from, even aside from enslaved people who obviously wouldn’t have those records. Plenty of people still identify with a general nationality (”Italian-American” and such), but the nuance the family might once have had (specific region of Italy, specific hometown) is often lost. Yeah, I know every place has immigrants, and lots of people don’t have good records, but the US is one of those countries where families have on average moved around a lot more and a lot more recently than some, and it affects our concepts of identity. I think some of the willingness to buy into the idea of “races” rather than “ethnicities” has to do with this flattening of identity.

New immigrant groups were often seen as Other and lesser, but over time, the ones who could manage it got added to our concept of “whiteness”, which gave them access to those same social and economic privileges.

Skin color is a big part of this. In a system that is founded on there being two categories, white owners and black slaves, skin color is obviously going to be about that rather than being more of a class marker like it is in a lot of the world.

But it’s not all about skin color since we have plenty of Europeans with somewhat darker skin who are seen as generically white here, while very pale Asians are not. I’m not super familiar with all of the history of anti-Asian racism in the US, but I think this persistent Otherness probably boils down to Western powers trying to justify colonial activities in Asia plus a bunch of religious bullshit about predominantly Christian nations vs. ones that are predominantly Buddhist or some other religion.

In fact, a lot of racist archetypes in English can be traced back to England’s earliest colonial efforts in Ireland. Justifying colonizing Those People because they’re subhuman and/or ignorant and in need of paternalistic rulers or religious conversion is at the bottom of a lot of racist notions. Ironic that we now see Irish people as clearly “white”.

--

There are a lot of racist porn tropes and racist cultural baggage here around the idea of black people being animalistic. Racist white people think black men want to rape/steal white women from white men. Black women get seen as hypersexual and aggressive. If this sounds like white people projecting in order to justify murder and rape... well, it is.

Similar tropes get applied to a lot of groups, often including Hispanic and Middle Eastern people, though East Asians come in more for creepy fantasies about endlessly submissive and promiscuous women. This nonsense already existed, but it was certainly not helped by WWII servicemen from here and their experiences in Asia. Again, it’s a projection to justify shitty behavior as what the party with less power was “asking for”.

In porn and even romance novels, this tends to turn up as a white character the audience is supposed to identify with paired with an exotic, mysterious Other or an animalistic sexy rapist Other.

A lot of fandoms are based on US media, so all of our racist bullshit does apply to the casting and writing of those, whether or not the fic is by Americans or replicating our racist porn tropes.

(Obviously, things get pretty hilarious and infuriating once Americans get into c-dramas and try to apply the exact same ideas unchanged to mainstream media about the majority group made by a huge and powerful country.)

--

Politically, within the US, white people have had most of the power most of the time. We also make up a big chunk of the population. (This is starting to change in some areas, which has assholes scared shitless.) This means that other groups tend to band together to accomplish shared political goals. They’re minorities here, so they get lumped together.

A lot of Americans become used to seeing the world in terms of “white people” who are powerful oppressors and “people of color” who are oppressed minorities. They’re trying to be progressive and help people with less power, and that’s good, but it obviously becomes awkward when it’s over-applied to looking at, say, China.

--

Now... fandom...

I find that fandom, in general, has a bad habit of holding things to double standards: queer things must be Good Representation™ even when they’re not being produced for that purpose. Same for ethnic minorities or any other minority. US-influenced parts of fandom (which includes a lot of English-speaking fandom) tend to not be very good at accepting that things are just fantasy. This has gotten worse in recent years.

As fandom has gotten more mainstream here, general media criticism about better representation (both in terms of number of characters and in terms of how they’re portrayed) has turned into fanfic criticism (not enough fics about ship X, too many about ship Y, problematic tropes that should not be applied to ship X, etc.). I find this extremely misguided considering the smaller reach of fandom but, more importantly, the lack of barriers to entry. If you think my AO3 fic sucks, you can make an account and post other fic that will be just as findable. You don’t need money or industry connections or to pass any particular hurdle to get your work out there too.

People also (understandably) tend to be hypersensitive to anything that looks like a racist porn trope. My feeling is that many of these are general porn tropes and people are reaching. There are specific tropes where black guys are given a huge dick as part of showing that they’re animalistic and hypersexual, but big dicks are really common in porn in general. The latter doesn’t automatically mean you’re doing the former unless there are other elements present. A/B/O or dubcon doesn’t mean it’s this racist trope either, not unless certain cliched elements are present. OTOH, it’s not hard for a/b/o tropes to feel close to “animalistic guy is rapey”, so I can see why it often bothers people.

A huge, huge, huge proportion of wank is “all rape fantasies are bad” crap too, which muddies the waters. I think a lot of people use “it’s racist” as an easy way to force others to agree with their incorrect claims that dubcon, noncon, a/b/o, etc. are fundamentally bad. Many fans, especially white fans, feel like they don’t know enough to refute claims of racism, so they cave to such arguments even when they’re transparently disingenuous.

--

Not everyone here thinks this way. I know plenty of people offline, particularly a lot of nonwhite people, who think fandom discourse is idiotic and that the people “protecting” people or characters of color are far more racist than the people writing “bad” fic or shipping the wrong thing.

But in general, I’d say that the stuff above is why a lot of us see the world as white people in power vs. everyone else as oppressed victims, interracial relationships as fraught, and porn about them as suspect. Basically, it’s people trying to be more progressive and aware but sometimes causing more harm than good when those attempts go awry.

[ak8star]

Hitting the Bees' Nest Known as Candyman

Alrighty so originally I only had seen the 2021 film of the same name but I got around to seeing the original 1992 film. I plan to hopefully see the silliness known as the 2nd and 3rd films. Cause horror movies have bad habit of getting silly after first installments.

So if you want a long read of my thoughts see the read more otherwise: I just love everything from lore to character even if I end up cracking up at the whole spectral bees thing he's got going.

(YO THERE BE SOME SPOILERS BETWEEN THE FILMS AND STORY IF YOU AREN'T AQUAINTED WITH THOSE DON'T LOOK FURTHER UNLESS YOU DON'T MIND BEING SPOILED STUFFS)

I vaguely was aware of the character and had seen buzz about him this year via the Dead By Daylight tumblr community. This made me look up why people were talking about this guy. I find one of the trailers for a new film. A film that came out this year after it was meant to come out last year but pandemic. It looked friggin' cool. I then looked up a super basic gist type thing so I know the bare basics of the first film.

It was easy to see that likely this new film was going to update some of the elements found in the 1992 film. Horror as a genre tends to reflect the concerns and fears of the time. Which sadly in this case has not really changed between films. If anything it is just as tense. The 1992 film came out in the year of the LA Riots and the 2021 film comes out during the present BLM movement (2021 film is set in 2019 as a note). This is in slight contrast to the original short story which instead of race it is class as it was set in a fictional section of Liverpool, England. Regardless it becomes a theme that is hard not to notice in either medium.

From the 2021 film's view 27 years has passed since the events of the 1992 film as this new film is a sequel that ignores most of the beats of Candyman: Farewell to Flesh (1995) and Candyman: Day of the Dead (1999) save for like one tiny piece of timeline info apparently. I felt the 2021 film did a good job giving the viewer enough info to navigate if they hadn't seen the 1992 film. Though after seeing the 1992 film I think it would have made some parts click faster that were in the newer film that referenced stuff from the earlier film. This includes a rather major plot turn in regards to Anthony the struggling artist who servers as our main character for most of the film. Cause yeah knowing what happens at the end of the 2021 film makes the ending of the 1992 film even more phyrrhic and bitter sweet.

I love the 2021 film. The score raw and deep. Oddly both film scores I would describe as very stripped and minimal. However the newer film edges out as the one I like a bit more due to it has a level of grime to it that just isn't quite there in the 1992 film. The newer one's soundtrack has a quality to it that reminds me of the video game Silent Hill when you slip into the Otherworld. It does throwbacks to the 1992 film's score as I learned later and it makes sense they would do this. Don't get me wrong I warmed up to the original film score after I found a post of the whole soundtrack to give it a fair listen like I did with the newer one. It's just again I lean a bit more to the new one due to previous statements above.

I love a lot of the shot compositions from pretty much start to finish in the newer film. Though I hope you like mirror gimmicks cause compared to the 1992 film the newer one really leaned into doing a lot with it. Taking advantage of CGI that was not at all a thing for the 1992 film. Something that my fiancé found a bit distracting at times versus the practical effects of the original film.

Perhaps the only other drawback of the newer film was at least two plot points that just seemed a waste. One is the part about Anthony's girlfriend's father. Like they make a point to show a flashback of the day he dies but like for what past showing she has a history of being around troubled artists? I wanted the movie to show maybe something with the art of her dad maybe better fill in why we needed this info and that scene. Maybe it was there but I blinked during it? It just felt like it was brought up but never went anywhere moment.

The other was the bits with the white teenage girls. Like I honestly feel the minutes with them were better off for other things. This film is barely at the hour thirty I usually see for horror film lengths. I get this was to show an example of Anthony's ploy to spread the word of Candyman after what seemed like a period of no one talking about it since 1992. It just felt like it was there just to push past the original film's kill count.

Oh and special note for the 2021 film from an artwork point of view:

The use of shadow puppets to convey some scene and ending credit sequence was phenomenal. I read they used a Chicago based group those sequences. From a video I found of the 2021 film's director, Nia DeCosta, she mentions that the use of shadow puppets was a thing from the very get go of this film. The use of artwork in general has a very complex role that I don't know how much was intentional but I found amusing. The incarnation of Candyman played by Tony Todd was an artist. Anthony who eventually becomes an incarnation it seems as well was also an artist. During Anthony's mental/physical breakdown there is a shift to the type of art he makes:

If I did my reading around right the artists used to represent Anthony's body of work were African American artists along with other pieces seen in the film when it came to gallery shots and stuff. Which I found to be super cool the talent they brought in.

How this film wraps up compared to original was a bit of a disappointment to my fiancé but I thought it was fine. It's mainly due to after I saw the 1992 film I saw why they had a character be a bit cult minded. The first film and original story pushed a cult vibe. In the first film the Candyman refer to his believers/Cabrini-Green residents as his congregation. With a score that somewhat hammers that vibe in with it's use of choir and organ.

In the end the new film made me seek out the 1992 film. And gosh it was a trip to see a film that came out when I was like a year old. Anyway:

"They will say that I have shed innocent blood. What's blood for if not for shedding? With my hook for a hand, I'll split you from your groin to your gullet. I came for you."

What a way to start a film after helicopter scenes of the busy streets of Chicago. Like that voice is intense with headphones after I had to go find some clips to refresh myself with a few scenes. This and a few other lines of the Candyman's dialogue come from the original story just rearranged a little. Like it take 44 minutes before we hear Candyman's actor, Tony Todd, again but god when he arrives...

The moment he said Helen's name the first time fucking shook me. I felt the core of my being sink into a pit by pitch alone. I'm not even this chick and it made me feel something. It is a tone that is beyond 'You dare not believe in me and try to make others do the same?' This is a tone that marks that things have gotten deeply personal. Like fucking hot damn. A little later in the same scene is this line that iirc does find its way in the newer film as well in a tweaked form:

"I am the writing on the wall, the whisper in the classroom. Without these things, I am nothing. So now, I must shed innocent blood. Come with me."

There is a reason this man is described as a mix of Bloody Merry and Freddy Kruger. He is a being of belief. His strength is in word of mouth and fear. If he has to go out there and stir the pot himself he fucking will do it when given a means to. Which does lead to some lore confusion on what exactly brings him out and about to fuck people up cause goodness this film is not consistent with what seems to trigger him. The 2021 film has its own lore confusion for him but fuck it both do the thing here for some reason does the following: Person A says his name 4 times and it's Person B that says it final time that either only gets one member killed, all parties are killed, or everyone BUT Person A who started it is killed. The only consistency seems to be you need to look in a mirror when you do the summoning chant.

The 1992 film stands out against other 90s horror films that it focus on leading the viewer on a story of mystery more so than a gorefest. It's still a 90s horror film that looks at the tropes to deconstruct while still being a horror film. The newer film also takes this approach to horror. It's what makes both films good in my opinion. Both are films to watch.

[mediaevalmusereads]

The Devil Comes Courting. By Courtney Milan. Self-Published (?), 2021.

Rating: 4.5/5 stars

Genre: historical romance

Part of a Series? Yes, Worth Saga #3

Summary: Captain Grayson Hunter knows the battle to complete the first worldwide telegraphic network will be fierce, and he intends to win it by any means necessary. When he hears about a reclusive genius who has figured out how to slash the cost of telegraphic transmissions, he vows to do whatever it takes to get the man in his employ. Except the reclusive genius is not a man, and she’s not looking for employment. Amelia Smith was born in Shanghai, and taken in by English missionaries. She’s not interested in Captain Hunter’s promises or his ambitions. But the harder he tries to convince her, the more she realizes that there is something she wants from him: She wants everything. And she’ll have to crack the frozen shell he’s made of his heart to get it.

***Full review under the cut.***

Content Warnings: graphic sexual content, racism (mostly microaggressions), references to child abduction

Overview: I'm a simple girl. I see a new Courtney Milan book, I read it. I was expecting this book to be good, but I wasn't expecting it to be so raw, emotional, and satisfying in almost every way. If I had to quibble, I would say that I would have liked to see a stronger focus on developing the romance, but as it stands, The Devil Comes Courting is an engaging read that deftly deals with topics such as colonialism, racism, grief, and family.

Writing: Milan's prose, as always, feels effortless while delivering a lot of information. It balances telling and showing well, and evokes a lot of emotion without feeling burdened by flowery language.

The only criticism I have is that in the first half of the book, there are some phrases that characters use that start to feel repetitive. It isn't a big deal, as they're supposed to be repeated (as a way for characters to remind themselves of things), but as a reader, I felt a little irritated. Luckily, this repetition clears up by the second half of the book, so if you also feel annoyed, you don't have to wait long.

Plot: The plot of this novel revolves around Grayson Hunter, a Black man intent on connecting China to America via a transpacific telegraph network, and Amelia Smith, a Chinese woman raised by an English missionary and who has invented a way to transmit Chinese characters via wire.

The first half of the book follows Grayson as he convinces Amelia to abandon her mother's plans to marry her off. Appealing to Amelia's ambition, he convinces her to come to Shanghai to work for him, all while building up her confidence and inspiring her. The second half more or less focuses on the development of the telegraph line as well as Amelia's longing for her Chinese mother, Grayson's obsession with work to avoid confronting his feelings of grief, and the budding relationship between the two.

I really loved this plot. It showed us Milan's nerdy interest in a topic (the telegraph line) while also exploring complex emotions connected to the history of colonialism. I loved how Milan handled Amelia's feelings of being torn between cultures, all without excusing the actions of those who participated in colonialism; despite Amelia having complicated reactions to her past, Milan does come down hard on what's right and doesn't try to redeem people who refuse to admit they have done wrong.

If I had any criticism of the plot, I think I would have personally liked to see arcs more strongly defined. There were some moments when I felt like I was just following characters in their day-to-day activities, and while some of it was interesting, there were times when I was wondering what larger goal the plot was heading towards. This is a minor criticism, however; because of the rich character exploration, I didn't mind following Amelia and Grayson, but if you're a plot person (rather than a character person), you may disagree.

Characters: I love how this book proves that you can have a historical romance about people of color without focusing on suffering.

Amelia, a Chinese woman raised by an English missionary, is quirky in that she's scatter-brained, bright, and kind. I loved that she was portrayed as incredibly smart and ambitious, and that her main character flaw was needing to believe in herself. I also loved how she wrestled with her feelings about her past - Amelia longs to meet her Chinese mother and ask why she left her, and I loved how Milan used that longing to fuel her desire to connect China to the rest of the world via wire.

Grayson, a Black man who obsesses over the telegraph wire as a way to avoid coming to terms with his brothers' deaths, is similarly likeable in that he's ambitious and kind. I loved that he was ruthless in pursuing Amelia (to work for him) but also respected her boundaries and let her make decisions for herself (rather than manipulating her into doing something). I loved the way Milan handled Grayson's grief and how his work on the telegraph was both a worthy project and an externalization of his character flaws.

Side characters were charming as well as helpful for facilitating Amelia's and Grayson's character arcs. Benedict, who is a character from the previous two Worth books, was quite adorable and had a nice little arc of his own. I think Benedict's arc complimented Amelia's and Grayson's well, though it will have more significance if you've read the first two books in the series. I also liked Amelia's adopted brother, Leland, whose arc explores and exposes the immorality of missionary work. Grayson's cousin, Zed, was also delightful in that he pushed Grayson to spend time with his family, which was important for exploring Grayson's complex feelings about his mother.

The book's antagonist (if we can really call her that) is Amelia's adoptive English missionary mother, who I think exhibits the right combination of genuine love for her child and toxic, manipulative behavior. I liked that Milan wrote this character so complexly because it helped explore nuances in the actions of individual colonists. The subtle racism (microaggressions, superiority complex, etc.) worked better, in my opinion, than overt racism (slurs, etc.) because they painted a more realistic and interesting picture of someone who believes she is doing good while actually doing a lot of harm.

Romance: In my opinion, the romance in this book was less interesting than the independent development of the characters. Don't get me wrong - I loved Amelia's and Grayson's interactions. I loved how they teased each other, I loved how Grayson inspired Amelia to believe in herself, and I loved how Amelia pushed Grayson to find happiness. I also very much enjoyed the little numbered letters that they wrote to each other and how their character arcs paralleled one another (both had to do with family).

But personally, I didn't feel like the romantic aspect of this relationship was passionate enough. I got the vibe that Amelia and Grayson were close confidantes rather than lovers - but it may be my own tastes or even unconscious bias, so I don't think readers should take this as a damning criticism.

I did appreciate, however, that the romance didn't fit the mold of a lot of other romances. Amelia never asks Grayson to change re: settling down, and both respect each other's boundaries. They also both don't want children, and neither of them face pressure to change their minds. As a result, this romance felt unique, and the fact that neither character was an upper class person in England helped a lot, too.

TL;DR: The Devil Comes Courting is a rich, evocative romance that explores colonialism, family, and grief without wallowing in misery. The unique, likeable characters on their own are enough to love this novel, but the deviation from romance genre norms (such as setting, social class, etc.) will surely satisfy readers looking to expand their horizons.

[scripttorture]

Hello! I'm sort of drafting a scifi plot centered around a colony planet's war for independence from their Earth motherland. I'm wondering, would it be plausible for the motherland to openly use torture to punish the rebels fighting for the colony's freedom in order to terrorize the rest of the colony's people into submission? In that case, would they be more likely to use scarring torture against those rebels? Thank you for your help! (Hope the ask made sense, English isn't my first language!)

It makes sense, your English is incredible. :)

 Everything you’ve suggested is possible. But this is a complicated topic so I’m going to talk about each point a little more.

 In the scenario you’ve set up it is plausible to have the motherland/authorities using torture. It’s also plausible for them to say and believe that it will make the colony submit.

 But torture can’t actually do that.

 Which you probably already know if you’ve been following the blog for a while. It feeds into the rest of the answer though, especially since we’re talking about scarring tortures.

 Based on what happened when the British and French empires finally ended: torture is likely to galvanise resistance movements. The use of torture by the British in Kenya and by the French in Algeria seem to have encouraged resistance and helped resistance movements recruit.

 There are more examples from this period you could look at, but what happened in these two countries is particularly well documented. And the British destroyed records of torture in some colonies. (Ironically the destruction of these records was recorded.)

 In both cases I don’t think the colonisers made much of an effort to hide the fact they were torturing people. It was known and understood throughout the country.

 At the same time it generally wasn’t happening as ‘openly’ as it would in Saudi Arabia today.* There were not officially mandated public punishments or mutilations.

 Instead the general pattern** was that people ‘vanished’ at random and would reappear weeks or months (sometimes years) later traumatised. Much of the torture in both places was ‘clean’ (non-scarring). So it wasn’t physical injuries or public displays that let people know torture was happening.

 It was people going missing. It was stories. It was communities gradually filling with more and more traumatised people.

 A colonising force can be torturing openly without torturing publicly.

 If you’ve got an image of a big platform in a town square where people are whipped, that is possible. But it’s not the only way this stuff happens.

 There is still some debate about why torturers avoid scarring tortures today.

 I think Rejali makes a very good argument. He did a lot of research and analysis, more then anyone else putting forward a theory.

 Rejali believes that the lack of scarring torture today is because torture is illegal and because we try to enforce those laws. He thinks that it’s about getting rid of evidence.

 There are other theories. Some people think scarring tortures are more likely when torturers dehumanise their victims. Some people think that clean tortures are more ‘practical’ from the point of view of authority figures; they don’t want to risk making the workforce incapable of working. There’s also an argument that a culture’s preferred torture techniques (National Style) is political and mimics the countries they are politically closest too.

 Rejali is really the only person I’ve seen back up their theory with analysis.

 And it’s worth remembering that clean tortures were commonly used throughout history. They were used with scarring tortures. It’s only recently that it’s become ‘one or the other’, through most of history it has been both.

 Which means that whether scarring tortures are likely depends on a lot of factors and most of the factors are cultural.

 If the culture on Earth views scarring torture as:

Illegal

Immoral

Unusually brutal

Uncivilised

 Then I think it’s really really unlikely that there’d be public scarring torture. I also think with that sort of culture scarring torture would be less common (but still possible).

 On the other hand if the majority culture sees torture as a legitimate punishment (and the rebels as deserving punishment) scarring torture is much more likely.

 I’d encourage you to think about how the major Earth culture views violence.

 Are executions commonly accepted as punishment? Can criminals be sentenced to things like blinding and amputation? Would the average person argue that public punishment is justified? Do people generally accept torture as part of a punishment? What are the cultural ideas about shame? Are any acts seen as particularly humiliating? Are any acts seen as particularly bad?

 Let’s use an example. You don’t have to use this. I’m just trying to show how you can use your worldbuilding to make all of this feel consistent.

 Imagine a majority Earth culture in this sci fi world that sees disloyalty as particularly bad. We’re all humans. We’re all ultimately from Earth. And whatever our differences we should be working together for the good of Earth.

 Now imagine that whipping is a possible sentenced punishment in this culture. Only for a few, severe crimes. Perhaps it’s seen as especially humiliating (as it was in ancient Rome).

 With this combination of cultural features it’s easy to imagine that there’d be popular support for whipping these rebels. Because they’re going against something seen as fundamental to this society and there is already support for torture as a humiliating punishment.

 If there’s less public support for torture then this kind of public display is a lot less likely.

 But torture could still be going on. It’s just more likely to be clean and authorities are more likely to deny it. Or deny that what they’re doing is torture.

 Apathy towards the colony is another possible factor. If the people back home just… don’t care about what goes on in the colony that might make torture generally and scarring torture in particular more likely.

 All of this means that this is a narrative choice but it’s a choice that you can tie to your world building and the plot.

 Scarring torture in the context of this kind of story means… handing the rebels a powerful propaganda tool.

 We instinctively empathise when we see other people in pain. That’s part of why torture backfires: whatever a person’s belief system we feel something when we see other people suffer. And that usually means that people who witness torture start to feel opposed to the torturers.

 Scarring tortures mean there’s a longer time frame where you can get this reaction. It means that sympathy can be garnered quickly and across language barriers by simply sharing pictures.

 If part of what you’ve planned for the story is a growing resistance movement scarring torture is a very good fit. Because it’s an easy way to show characters quickly becoming sympathetic to the rebels.

 ‘You think these people are decent?! Look at what they did to my little boy!’

 That’s powerful, visceral stuff. If you want these parts of the story to hit the readers hard, so they feel breathless, then this is a very good choice.

 Clean torture often means taking more time explaining what happened to someone and how it felt. It means you have to hold the reader’s hand and talk them through why this was so bad.

 If you want to take a more thoughtful, philosophical approach (or focus more on a character’s internal journey) this can be a very good choice. But it doesn’t fit so well if you want these sections of the story to be more like action sequences with emotional weight.

 And this feeds into how you want to approach resistance in the story. I think that with scarring torture you have a very easy way to show why these people don’t submit. There’s a lot more instinctual understanding of the anger, pain and spite.

 For a lot of people clean torture requires more explanation and build up. I say that because a lot of people just don’t understand clean torture at all.

 For all that I usually advise writers to connect with that and use clean tortures (the kinds that are used most commonly now)- sometimes there is a good narrative reason for choosing a scarring torture instead. And skipping the explanations that need to come with clean tortures can be one of them. You don’t always want to spend pages explaining the basics to readers. Sometimes you just want to make them feel something straight away.

 Wrapping up I think you’d get a lot from reading H Alleg’s The Question and the appendices to Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth. Both talk about the Franco-Algerian war, Alleg as a torture survivor and Fanon as a mental health professional who treated survivors, witnesses and torturers.

 Good luck with your story. Tackling these topics can be hard. Remember that the masterposts are here and that it’s OK if you don’t get things right on the first attempt.

 I hope that helps. :)

Available on Wordpress.

Disclaimer

*For new readers I use Saudi as an example often because I grew up there. As an expat. I am white, my parents are from England and Cyprus. Which incidentally is one of the places we’re missing British colonial records for. I feel like my peculiar background should be out in the open when we’re discussing colonial violence.

 **There were exceptions. Both places saw big, obvious attacks. These were usually by military forces on remote villages and often meant whole villages were destroyed.

[failing-to-write-again]

Germany x Ireland!Reader: Snow Storms and Confessions

Ok so the plan was to post another scenario and write two more yesterday. But Tumblr did an oopsie and deleted everything.

Every cloud has a silver lining however, my friend sent me this gem of a find and all I could think about afterwards was this story. I was going to write them as scenarios but I found it difficult to imagine situations for the other characters.

So here's a different story. A one shot...goody.

---------------------------------------------------

*Ireland's POV*

I sat there cold and alone in the Russian airport terminal. My flight cancelled due to the violent snow storm outside and no hotel room to go to. All the other countries had already left, the usual flights to Ireland weren't available. Just one at 10pm when a blizzard was due. Russia didn't exactly give a direct response when I brought it up...

*flash back*

"Little Ireland! You are feisty small one, you're lack of fear is amusing."

"I'm not being feisty I just want to know why there's none of the usual planes to my country. I don't want to end up caught in the blizzard"

"Она умнее, чем выглядит...I don't involve myself petty plane issues. Perhaps this is fate, you believe in a lot of those magical fairy tales no?"

she's smarter then she looks

"Она также говорит по-русски. Что ты прячешь?"

she also speaks Russian. What are you hiding?

*flash forward to present*

Just before I could pry, Germany got the meeting started and I was left to get to my seat and ponder over Russia's behaviour. He's a strange study for sure.

Germany was as well. We became properly acquainted in the early 1900s only labelling ourselves as friends around the 70s when I joined the early version of the EU (then EEC). He definitely is a layered character, and even though he is sweet once I became closer with him, he seems to still be hiding aspects of his personality. But enough about that I'm cold and have to figure out where I'll sleep tonight.

"Ireland? Vhat are jou doing here?"

Speak of the devil and he shall arrive...

"Hey Germy, my flight got cancelled and it was the only one available, my hotel booking also ran out so I'm just sorta stuck here haha."

A rather enjoyable shade of red spread across his face at the mention of the nickname. I'd do anything to see those little cracks in his tightly woven character. Anything to see the little smiles or chuckles, the crush I'd developed over years of friendship pushing me to.

"V...Vell mein flight vas cancelled as vell...vould you like to share a hotel room vith me? I still have an extra day."

Panic.

"I wouldn't be against it, but you probably would like to not share a room so I understand if you don't want to and everything. Thanks for the offer though"

"Nein it's fine I don't mind ve're friends ja? It's ok!"

The air is so fucking uncomfortable. Big brother France is looking on in disappointed from Paris. I just know it. After a few more rounds of pitiful back and forth we agreed we both were ok with sharing a room and set off, chittering throughout the walk.

*[insert timeskip joke] Germany's POV*

Ireland was in the bathroom getting ready for bed as I sat mentally preparing to sleep beside her.

At some point my feelings of friendship began to be replaced with... love as Italy put it. I thought I was ill whenever my heart would flutter like a manly butterfly near her. After voicing my concerns to my brother and Italy, bruder proceeded to have a laughing fit. Italy took the time to gush about love long enough for me to come to the conclusion I was in it.

Ireland. She's not perfect by any means and we've had our fair share of arguments and disagreements. Though we always manage to work then out. Would it be the same if we were dating? I would be living in a dream if that was true...

The door opened and in she came. In the shorts she wore for sleep her false leg was on full display. I remember helping her make it, replacing the standard wooden one for a metal one with upgrades bring added whenever we visited eachother or were together in our free time from longer summits. The leg, essentially fully functional due to her use of spells and my use of metal. Light blue swirls, famous for their use in her history giving off a slight hum in the dark room, dancing up and down the metal limb. Gott she was an angel.

"That meeting left me a wreck." She stifled a yawn, lowering herself slowly to the bed beside me. The blue began to fade slowly as she stopped using magic, bleeding up her leg until disappearing once it reached the end of the metal at her upper thigh. "How does it vork?" I lowly hummed.

"The magic I use to move the leg? It's a weird mix of electricity and telekinesis. I use the electricity to stimulate the metal wires and pistons you put into it and use the telekinesis to make it move in a more natural way. I just wish it didn't glow, it makes it impossible to hide"

Hide? Why hide it? It's beautiful...is it inappropriate to say that out loud? I settle on a less invasive response.

"Why hide it? The blue looks like the tattoo you always joke about getting?"

She went quiet did I go to far? No she always said when I went too far same as I always did if our discussions on my...past got too vivid...She continued.

"When I lost my leg, I lost a part of myself. The image of the country who would fight anyone to be free, that had the confidence of countries ten times her size, it was gone. I kept up the act in letters and statements acting like the leg didn't phase me...Then I got to finally see my siblings again. None of them were allowed near me after one of my attempts for freeedom out of fear I'd help them escape or convince England to go rogue against his boss. They watched me struggle to do anything, they watched me have to ask for help to move, they watched me weak. It's been hard adjusting...then..."

She took a deep breath and looked up. Something she often did when trying not to cry. I gently lay a hand on her back and put on the calmest voice I could.

"Then vhat? Take jour time, I know it's difficult, but please tell me vhat happened?"

"I met someone. They helped me without even realising it. They slowly built up my confidence in myself, taught me how to laugh and smile like I used to. Obviously my family helped but the help from this person stuck with me more I suppose. He built me up, tried to help when he didn't have to."

He. My world slowly shattered and fell around me. So she has somebody else. Someone better. Someone who can show her all the love they probably expect being raised by someone like France and England.

"Oh...vill jou tell me more about him?"

She let a slow smile spread across her face.

"He's kind and sweet but covers it over with a stiff outer shell. He has many talents...so many talents. He's amazing really, but one thing in particular is what I think made me fall for him."

"Vhat vas it? That he did"

I was probing. I was pushing too far into her private life. If she never spoke about him in all our years of friendship, she had a reason not to. She's a damn ex-spy and rebel leader she knows how much to trust people. But...I didn't care. I wanted to know. Needed to. I had loved her for years only for her to slip away the moment I had started working to con-

"He built me a new leg. Then he called it pretty and sleek and said he liked the blue the magic made on it."

Oh...this was...not what I expected. I was the one who built the leg...she knows that...she...she...

"Ireland I..."

I slowly pulled her gently, she was straddling me so I could look into her eyes.

"Do jou really. But vhat I've done. How could jou?"

"Fall for a lovable human being? It's rather simple. I'm just hoping you'll give this amputee a chance."

She looked at me hopefully through her eye lashes. At that moment I realised why us Germans aren't seen as great romantics. We're better at doing, not speaking. So do I did.

I kissed her. Pouring every piece of emotion I felt for her, because of her into it. Desperately trying to show her how much I cared regardless of how bad I'd be at saying it. And it was bliss. My pulse was racing faster then any of my, no Germany's, F1 cars.

She was with me, not my country, not my people, ME. And I'm going to be selfish.

Her soft warm lips, pushing against my colder ones. Tasting like that brand of chocolate she loves mixed with the minty taste of toothpaste. Her arms, laying around me neck, playing with the hairs on the back of my head. My arms, pulling her closer filling every gap between us I could find. I was in heaven, kissing an angel, and I wasn't going to give it up for anything. The entire world could be damned so long as she was in my arms. Everything Italy, France, Spain, Bruder, and all the other countries preached about love suddenly clicked. I loved her. I never wanted to leave her side. I wanted to be her hero, her Ritter (knight), her lover.

And by the way she was kissing back she wanted to be mine.

*POV switch*

HOLY FUCKING SHIT HE'S KISSING ME!

HOLY FUCKING SHIT I'M KISSING HIM!

AAAHHHHHHHH!!!

I barely thought of anything else, all I could focus on was getting drunk off his kisses. He was kissing me like the world was ending and I loved it.

At some point it went from me in his lap to beneath him on the bed, staring into icy blue eyes.

"vell..." He drawled "ve have a hotel room, a snow storm. no ozher countries on zhis floor, or anyvone for that matter until tomorrow. and a very horny country. vhat do jou suppose ve do Ms.Ireland?"

I spoke before my mind could think. "Well Mr.Germany. A second, equally as horny country is beneath you so the real question is...Was wirst du dagegen tun?

What are you going to do about it?

Snap.

"Ich heiße nicht deutschland Ich heiße ludvig" he growls out. Responds very well to German if the kisses are any proof.

My name isn't Germany. My name is Ludwig

I leant up to whisper in his ear..."Es ist gut zu wissen, was ich später schreien werde. Ich bin (Y/N)."

It's good to know what I'll be screaming later. I'm (Y/N).

I hear a growl before my hands are held above my head with kisses attacking my neck...If this was Russia's plan for only having only one flight home then he's getting cookies next meeting.

*both POV*

Thank God/Gott for snow storms.