#unfortunately i could not write political intrigue if my life depended on it

[mushroom-circles]

[young-dumb-and-vaccinated]

The Cult Girl (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 7

Sorry this took so long y'all. This chapter was difficult to write. Hannibal invites Theresa for dinner and y/n finally confronts her.

Trigger warning: mentions of suicide, child sex abuse; graphic descriptions of violence; confronting an abuser; body-shaming

The stitches in your cut hadn't even dissolved before Theresa intruded on your life again. Before you stormed out, Hannibal did in fact invite her to dinner. Polite society would rule the invitation null and void after that confrontation, but Theresa felt herself exempt from the laws of politeness. Like Evangelicals or craisins, Theresa loved to insert herself where she was clearly not wanted.

Of course, you were peeved at Hannibal for upholding the invitation when she called. But you could tell he had something planned. He was intrigued by her audacity and wanted to see how far it would take her. You couldn't begrudge him professional curiosity, as you too wondered what the fuck her problem was.

In truth, you saw what he did to your grandma, and you wanted to see him do it to Theresa. You wanted her subject to the same psychological torment that she put you through. And that, you realized, was why he honored that invitation. He wanted to vindicate you. And that was the sexiest damn thing you could possibly imagine.

Theresa showed up alone. That was her first mistake.

"Thank you for having me, Dr. Lecter." Theresa greeted, shedding her long coat and dropping it to the ground. "Will [F/N] be joining us?"

"[F/N] will most certainly be joining us." Hannibal said, his voice hardening. He noticed her coat in a pile on the floor and something in his head clicked.

"I hope I'm not overdressed." Theresa tossed her hair over her shoulders. 

She was. And you knew even before she showed up that she'd wear that green evening dress with the plunging neckline. It was the same one she wore to prom. She kept it as a memento all these years to memorialize the day she completely fucked you over. 

She was here to make history repeat itself. 

"Not all, Ms. [L/N]," Hannibal grinned, glancing at the staircase. "[F/N] is just touching up her makeup.”

“That sounds like [F/N].” Theresa laughed. “She always took the most time getting ready in the morning. And she was always the ugliest. It was quite sad, really.”  

Hannibal reminded himself what he had in store for Theresa before letting himself get angry. “If you could join me in the kitchen, I could use a little help with the appetizers.” 

Theresa took the bait and followed him through the threshold into the massive kitchen. 

“Could I trouble you for some psychological advice, Doctor Lecter?” She said, leaning against the island.

“That depends.” He answered, though the tone of his voice connoted a firm ‘no’. “Are you going to be honest with me?” 

Theresa mounted herself on top of the island and crossed her legs. “I’ve just been having quite a bit of trouble in my marriage.”

"Please get off my counter." Hannibal politely demanded. "I just sterilized it this morning."

“My husband just isn’t so excited by me anymore.” She pouted like a child. “He just doesn’t seem interested in... well, any of the things I have to offer him.” 

“Have you considered the possibility that you have nothing to offer?” You said. You approached them with purpose, the skirt of your purple dress fluttering behind you. Your favorite pair of strappy heels clacked against the tile and echoed through the room with every step. 

“[F/N] makes a valid point.” Hannibal agreed, taking you under his arm. “You’re an abusive narcissist, a serial adulterer, and you’re quite horrible at flirting. I certainly don’t understand what you could possibly have to offer.” 

“Nice to see you again, [F/N].” Theresa said, resigned to her defeat. “I didn’t want to say anything at the wedding, but you look like you’ve gained a few pounds.” 

You almost laughed. Growing up, Grandma had subjected you to every form of body-shaming known to man. Nothing Theresa could say would have any effect on you. 

“Really? Because I’ve never felt better in my life.” You smiled, knowing it to be true. “Hannibal is an amazing cook. You’d probably gain weight too if you were eating so well.” 

"Well, I have appearances to keep up." She refuted. "Gideon and I both have very busy schedules. Besides, he finds the kitchen more of a woman's domain."

"Unfortunate for you." Hannibal threw a dish towel over his shoulder and picked up a wine bottle by the neck. He kept his hands busy by pouring three glasses of wine. "That Gideon does not put in the time to keep you well-fed and fulfilled. Might I suggest not molesting children as a remedy?"

You snickered as he handed you a glass. You migrated to the dining table, where the trial was set to take place.

"Did you invite me here just to gang up on me?" Theresa leaned back in her chair. "Because if so, that's really mature."

"Of course not." You said, Hannibal pulling your chair out for you. You placed your napkin in your lap. "Well, maybe a little."

Theresa took a long sip of wine. "You're not going to get an apology if that's what you're after."

"Oh no." You shook your head. "I've stopped expecting basic human decency from you years ago."

"Good." Theresa huffed. "Since that's clearly what you want me to be, that's what I'll be."

"Don't give me that shit." You sighed. "I know what gaslighting is and you're not as good at it as you think."

"Y'know I never asked to be a parent figure to you and Anna." She crossed her arms.

"You may not have asked for it but you sure as hell enjoyed it." You countered, furrowing your brow. "Don't act like you weren't the dictator's right-hand man. You sucked up to grandma and always got preferential treatment."

"I was a kid." She shrugged. "You're really gonna blame me for the shit I did before my skull fully hardened?"

"Well, it exposes a way larger pattern of behavior." You explained. "You're a megalomaniac that wants power without responsibility. So you attach yourself to someone with power, probably another narcissist who's too self-involved to see what a leech you really are. It's what you did with grandma and it's what you're doing with Gideon."

Dressing Theresa down like that gave you a rush. It made you feel alive. But more importantly, it made her look small. It stripped her of her power.

"Well done, Sherlock." Theresa taunted. "But you're forgetting one thing. If I were a megalomaniac, why would I waste my time beating up on you? Some nobody with no power to speak of?"

"Because I'm a living reminder of your past." You narrowed your eyes. "I remind you that you can't just beat everyone into submission."

"Ladies," Hannibal interrupted, holding three bowls. He placed one in front of you, the savory broth enticing your nose. "This is pot-au-feu. It is a simple French stew made from beef, vegetables and potatoes. I added a marrow-bone for extra richness. It's the perfect combination of simplicity and substance."

You couldn't even wait for Hannibal to sit down. You'd been so hungry all day. Smelling the meat slowly braise over the course of the day was torturous. You went straight for the marrow, which was a recent favorite of yours.

Theresa picked the bone up between two fingers and dropped it onto the table, her face wrapped with disgust. "I think I'll pass. I'm not a dog."

"You are not." Hannibal said, spearing a piece of meat on his fork. "I find dogs much better company."

Theresa tented her fingers and glared at Hannibal. "So you're just going to let her rip into me? Aren't you supposed to be the professional here?"

"Don't discount [F/N]'s analysis just because she is a student." Hannibal glared back at her. "From what I know about you, she's dead on."

"Isn't this entire interaction a professional conflict of interest?" Theresa folded her arms. "I don't trust her to analyze me because she hates me."

Hannibal put his utensils down. Anger flashed across his face. "I don't think you quite understand what this interaction is. You are not owed an unbiased psychological profile, especially not from me. You are not my patient. You are [F/N]'s abuser."

Theresa narrowed her eyes and leaned over the table. "So if you understand that, why am I here?"

"You think very highly of your intelligence, Theresa." Hannibal glanced down at his dish. "Perhaps you can figure that one out yourself."

You coughed, narrowly avoiding choking on your food.

"Darling, please pace yourself." Hannibal instructed, though he seemed pleased with how enthusiastically you inhaled your meal. "You're going to make yourself sick if you eat too fast."

"I'm sorry." You said after taking a long sip of water. "I don't know why, I'm just so hungry today."

Hannibal dropped his eyebrows, looking worried. "Did you take your medicine this morning?"

"I think so." You nodded.

Theresa smiled and reached for her phone. The movement caught Hannibal's attention, and he could tell what she was up to right away.

"Theresa, it's very rude to text at the dinner table." He scolded, taking a sip of wine. "Surely, anything you're saying to your grandmother and Anna, you can say to us."

Theresa, too proud to back down, slipped her phone into her purse and met your eyes. "You're pregnant."

"Brilliant fucking deductive reasoning." You rolled your eyes. "A woman gains a little weight and has a healthy appetite? That's the only logical conclusion I would draw."

"Well, aren’t we defensive?" Theresa taunted. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Theresa, stop it." You gritted your teeth, trying not to convey how pissed you were.

"You're going to need to drop out of school to take care of the baby full time." Theresa sneered.

You knew exactly where she was taking this and you wanted more than anything to just disappear. You reached for the wine bottle and refilled your glass. "Shut up, Theresa. Shut the fuck up before you say something you'll regret."

Her face lit up from the satisfaction of finally making you angry. "And someday you'll blow your brains out just like your mother!"

This time, she would regret it. You chucked the empty wine bottle across the table. It hit her directly in the face with a deafening crunch before ricocheting off the table and shattering on the ground.

Theresa brought her finger to her nose, noticing the stream of blood trickling from her nostril. She stood up, stabilizing herself with the back of the chair.

"I didn't think you had it in you." She jabbed before collapsing to the ground.

You went silent, too afraid to look at Hannibal.

"For what it's worth, darling." Hannibal piped up. "I always knew that you did."

[strutitout]

LARRY FIC REC - recently read

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What Louis really needed was a fat fucking nap.

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✨ Additional tags: Spanking. Subspace.  

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---

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Harry stepped away from the bus stop and the bus sailed straight past.

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---

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~

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✨Hot smut, a lot of fluff and not that much angst. Harry seems a bit immature (which makes sense for his age) but their relatioship is really sweet. (I also enjoy that the writer included pictures of how they imagined H and L on each presentation)

[stevesharrlngtons]

pin prick and needle sticks.

roman godfrey x reader

summary: your solution for roman’s feeding problem is met with some resistance.

word count: 3.9k

a/n: ya im having so much fun writing again so hopefully there will be more! i hope you enjoy and if you do, pls give me some feedback (-: 

also this is a repost bc this wasn’t showing up in tags 

When you strode into Dr. Pryce’s office, he didn’t try to hide his surprise at your uncharacteristic appearance.

“Ms. (Y/L/N)! This is surely an unexpected visit.” Pryce pushed out of his desk chair to meet you in the middle of the large glass room.

“I hope I’m not interrupting anything.” You say politely as Johann takes the coat that’s folded over your arm.

“No, not presently. I was just about to wrap up some paperwork and go to lunch.”

“Well, I won’t keep you long. I am hoping my question has a simple enough answer.” You say as you take a seat in one of the visitors chairs across from his desk.

“So, you are looking for my expertise on a matter?” Pryce asks, taking his own seat now.

“Yes, and maybe a small favor depending on your answer.” You smile, trying to seem as sweet as possible.

You knew Johann was asked for wild favors and cover ups where the Godfrey family was concerned constantly, almost on the daily. You wanted him to be receptive to your idea and not shoot you down before he heard your pitch.

Pryce was tolerant of your presence and occasionally even fond of your acquaintance when Roman needed him for something or another. You were very bright and amiable company.

He sighs deeply, already seeming resistant, “Is this a Roman related favor?”

“Yes, but not in the way you think. It’s more like a gift I need your help in giving.”

Johann looked extremely perplexed as he placed his laced fingers on his desktop, “Now I am very intrigued. Please, proceed,”

“You are aware that Roman has been having some trouble sourcing food. Right?” You try to say everything as delicately as possible, even though you knew Pryce knew about Roman’s situation in full. Probably even more than you knew.

“Yes, I am. Unfortunately Olivia forbids me to speak with him on the matter before she does, and she refuses to do so until Roman goes to her for help.”

“Withholding access to food, sounds like an award winning mother if you ask me.”

Johann chuckles, “Yes, Olivia is nothing but selfless.”

“Selfless and maternal.”

Pryce laughs again before he asks you what is the nature of your visit in relation to Roman and his upirism.

“Like all things in Roman’s life that are broken, I have found the solution to fix them. In this case, I have decided that I will take my blood and give it to him. As much as I can give, so he will never have to worry about where to feed again.” You said this with a self assured expression, elated that you had come up with a way to help your love.

The true extent of Roman’s feeding problem had become apparent one night while you were making love.

Roman sat on his knees, your legs around his waist while he pressed his hips deliciously into yours. He had set a gentle rhythm of thrusts, ones that were illicting your mewls and calls of his name from your lips. While you were reveling in your pleasure, Roman was trembling. Desire filming his eyes as they transfixed on your jugular. He couldn’t tear his eyes away from the faint thrum in your neck, your voice becoming hazy and distant as his mouth watered at the sight of your craned neck below him. It wasn’t until you grabbed his cheeks that he snapped from his thirsty stupor.

Roman tumbled off your naked form to the floor of the bedroom unceremoniously, skirting away from you until his back reached the wall, the farthest wall from the bed. You had sat up, not bothering to cover yourself as you stared at your crumpled boyfriend, who shook and stammered under his breath.

“I can’t, OK? We can’t! Not until I feed again. I don’t think I can control it- I can’t control myself.”

“Baby, it’s going to be fine. I know you would never hurt me,” You push away the remains of crumpled sheets and begin toward him, but Roman flinches aggressively.

“I can’t help it, no matter how much I don’t want too, I will. I would kill you just for a taste and I would hate myself forever.”

You wanted to offer yourself up on a silver platter then and there. Ask him to drink from you because even if he doubted his control, you knew he would stop feeding before you were in any semblance of danger. You just wanted to make him feel better, in any way you could. But, as Roman wove his hands into his hair and tugged ruthlessly at the roots, it was clear that this wasn’t going to become an argument, or even a conversation. Roman left the bedroom soon after, muttering something about the refrigerator and leeches, while you watched him leave with an ache in your chest.

You had been trying to figure out the best possible solution to Roman’s problem since. After contemplating many different avenues, you concluded that you weren’t a bank robber (even if it was just a blood bank) and hiring someone from Craigslist seemed too risky (and too weird). So, you had fallen back on your original idea from that night: Roman would drink from you.

“To be clear, you want to extract your own blood and stockpile it for Roman?”

“Exactly. I just need to know how to do it and how much I can give per week without dying of iron deficiency or something.” You nonchalantly reply.

“This is very noble of you to do, (Y/N).”

You wave a dismissive hand at his compliment, “I just want to help him in the best way I can. It’s what you do for the people you love.”

Pryce stares at you for a moment, and begins to wonder how Roman attracted you in the first place? He was sure it was the young man’s killer good looks and the charm he held with the opposite sex that first caught your attention, but you were a smart girl. You wouldn’t fall for him simply because he was a blueprint for a Greek statue or threw a few saccharine words your way. He wondered if Roman was warm and adoring? Sweet and loving and soft when he was only in your company? From what Pryce had seen first hand, Roman was kind and gentle when you were around, but only ever to you. The second Roman laid his eyes back on Pryce or anyone else for that matter, he was back to an angry frothing terror to anyone in his path.

“When giving blood for say, The Red Cross, they take about a liter of your blood which is around 15 fluid ounce. You shouldn’t give more than that a mouth, but I could give you a few supplements that could help replenish your red blood cells at a slightly quicker rate so you would be able to give blood once a week.

“You would likely need to take breaks, possibly a month on and a month off? To make sure that giving blood this frequently wouldn’t take any serious toll, or have any significant side effects on the body.” Pryce explains.

“And these supplements won’t do anything weird to me if I take them?” You trusted Pryce, but only minutely. While you felt cordial with him, you still knew to be weary of his experiments.

“No, of course not. They are all over the counter supplements and vitamins that you can buy on your own accord. I would just tell you how, when and the quantity to take.”    

You sighed at his answer and laughed lightly, “So it’s all good? We could do it?”

“I don’t see why not. I could send a tech to your home to administer the IV, and possibly if this method of feeding works out for Roman long term, you could learn to insert it yourself.”

“Am I going to have like, crazy puncture marks? Am I gonna look like a junkie?” You asked, the vanity of this whole thing only now coming to your mind.

“Unfortunately, there will be noticeable marks and possible bruises from repeated insertions. I could work on something to heal your puncture marks, as I said, if this becomes a main source of Roman’s feeding.”

You nod, mulling over the information for a moment.

“When could we start?”

Telling Roman about the whole thing never even crossed your mind. To you, this was a gift that you were going to give to him, and you loved the element of surprise. It was strange, sure, but to you, this idea of yours felt totally romantic. Some women gave their boyfriends watches, or flat screen TV’s, or let them put in their ass on their birthdays; but for your boyfriend? The man who had every material object he desired and every sexual need quenched? Your blood was a perfect way to show him you cared.

You didn’t want Roman to get just one bag for the first time you presented him with the blood, so you waited four long weeks to create your mini arsenal for him. You just took to wearing long sleeves around the house and silk robes right before bed to hide the little marks on your arms. Roman, still not at his most observant from his lack of feedings, didn’t even bat an eye at your clothing choices.

After your final session with one of Pryce’s tech’s in your home, you felt giddy. You had been keeping the blood in the outside fridge until you had the stockpile you desired, knowing Roman never checked it’s contents. Tonight was the night you were finally going to give them to him.

After Pryce’s man left, you placed your newest bag in the refrigerator and went back inside to change into something far more alluring than the sweatpants you adorned currently. This was going to be a special night for your man and you wanted to pull out all the stops. You had already directed Conway and Anna to make a four course feast for the two of you before you would bring out Roman’s surprise.

After changing into the tightly fitted black dress you had picked out a few weeks ago, along with Roman’s favorite silk lingerie set, you went back downstairs to continue to set the scene for Roman when he returned from work. You scattered candles around the room and played an old jazz record to soothe any worry or anxiety from your boyfriend once he entered your shared home. You wanted everything to be perfect, he deserved it.

As you finished and Anna and Conway were wrapping up the meal, you heard someone placing a key in the front door. You turned to see Roman’s tall silhouette through the frosted glass and you couldn’t keep the smile off your lips.

When he walked through the door, he looked exhausted. His eyes were haloed in shadows and he was gaunt, his pale skin pasty and dull. He looked about ready to collapse.

Until he saw you.

“Welcome home.” You said, a wide grin on your features.

“What’s all this?” Roman asked as you met him by the door.

“I know how stressed you’ve been and I wanted to set up a nice evening for the two of us.” You replied as you pushed his coat off his shoulders and held out for Conway to take.

Roman glanced over your shoulder to see the extent of the fuss you had made for him and his shoulders visibly relaxed, “You’re amazing.”

You took both his hands and started to walk back toward the table, “That I am, and I have a little surprise for you after dinner.”

Roman tugs you to him suddenly, causing you to stumble a bit in your heels, but that only accomplished to bring you flush to him.

“Is my surprise under this sexy little get up of yours?” Roman’s eyes twinkle with lust as he moves his hands down to grip your ass.

You hum with delight, “I guess you have two surprises coming, then.”

You lean up to place a lingering kiss to his lips and Roman groans a curse as you step away from his hold.

“But for now, let’s eat and unwind. How was your day?” You ask, pulling out Roman’s chair for him.

“Better now.” He grinned, one that was without smare or ulterior motive. Just a pure smile radiating happiness.

After you chatted about your days and Roman having bitched about work to his heart’s content, you both finished the delicious dinner that was prepared for you. You had moved across the table to sit on his lap while you both shared a chocolate mousse, the gentle ping of the silver spoon against the serving glass lulling you both into calm relaxation and sloth as you ate the rich dessert.

Roman’s temple was pressed against your exposed cleavage, practically purring with the bliss he felt.

“Thank you for tonight, baby. I needed it.” He sighed, turning his head just enough to let you kiss his lips.

“Of course, my love.” You responded, stroking your hand through his hair, “I’d pluck the stars from the sky if it’d make you happy.”

“Hey,” Roman smiles, poking your side, “That’s my line.”

You giggle as Roman prodes you, “Well, while I’m taking your lines, let me take another. I got you something and I need to go and get it.”

“You know I don’t need anything.” Roman says, squeezing you once more before you got off his lap.

“This present is something you need, trust me.” You say over your shoulder as you exit the kitchen and enter the garage to get the gift box you had prepared.

Was this all very dramatic? Yes. Over the top? Of course.

But you loved pampering Roman, so you threw all cares to the wind.

As you entered the kitchen with the rectangular black gift box held together with a silk ribbon, Roman looked at you confused.

“Jeez, what is that? Is my mother’s head in there?” He asked as he watched you place the box on the dining table.

“I wish.” You chuckled, dusting your hands off on your dress as you looked into Roman’s puzzled expression, “Open it.”

Unable to even guess what could be in the box, Roman stood up and walked toward you and where it lay.

“It’s not gonna be anything that’s gonna pop out at me, right?”

“Oh my God, stop being such a bitch and open it already!” You laugh, nudging him with your shoulder as you quaked with excitement.

Roman finally pulled on the black ribbon and slowly untied it, causing the sides of the box to fall apart and reveal it’s contents.

“Surprise!” You said, jumping slightly in place, barely able to keep your excitement to yourself as Roman took in the gift.

He just looked at the blood blankly, all placed in a row before him. His mouth hung open, but he said nothing.

“How did you get this?”

“Well, that’s the extra special part. It’s mine,” You gestured to the blood, “It’s all from me.”

Roman looked up at you, and the appreciation you’d thought you’d see written all over his face wasn’t there. Instead his face was red with anger.

“How could you do this? How could you be so reckless!” Roman raged.

Your heart sank with embarrassment and grief.

“I thought you’d like it.”  

“Like it? Baby, why would I like you taking your blood to give to me? Do you know how dangerous this is? Do you!” You cowered under his voice, lip quivering.

“I thought you would be happy, I thought I was helping. Now you don’t have to worry about feeding or hurting anyone. I can just give blood every now and then and give it to you.” You responded, trying desperately to mend the evening.

“How did you even do this? How did you figure this out?” Roman picked up one of the bags and furiously tossed it back down.

You furrowed your brows and took a step toward your boyfriend, “OK, so don’t get mad- well, don’t get more mad I guess… but I asked Pryce-”

“You asked Pryce?” Roman shrieked, his eyes bulging from his head.

“Yes! But it wasn’t his idea, it was mine. The whole thing was my idea and all he did was help me and make sure I was safe.” You said quickly as Roman paced the length of the table in front of you.

“I’m going to kill him. I’m going to kill that stupid little prick and rip his cock off and shove it down his throat!” Roman bellowed.

“Ro, it’s not his fault,”

“It is! He let you do this! Indulged you! He fucking put a needle in your arm and touched you!” It was then that Roman finally zeroed in on the small circular band aid on the inner crook of your elbow and his face passed its red hue into bright crimson.

“Pryce never touched me! He had a lab tech help me.”

“Then I’m killing the tech, then Pryce, then everyone in that fucking nut house of a lab who knew this was happening and didn’t tell me!”

“Stop!” You shouted over Roman’s angry rant, “Enough! This wasn’t anyone’s fault but my own, apparently. I fucked up, I can see that now. But I honestly and truly thought you would love this. That you could be satiated from my blood and never worry about where the next source would come from. But hey? Guess I was wrong.”

Tears threatened to spill from your eyes as you turned on your heel to leave.

“(Y/N),” Roman called after you but you stuck up your hand to silence him.

“No, I just want to go to sleep. I’ll see you in bed.” And you walked up the stairs to leave your boyfriend stewing in his own ire.

Stripped from your dress and lingerie, you lay under the thick covers of the bed and mindlessly watch some old re-run of a sitcom. It had been well over an hour since you had left Roman in the kitchen and each second he stayed away was another second of heartbreak and humiliation. You still weren’t sure why Roman had blown up the way he did… sure it was risky, but nothing that you couldn’t handle. You were a grown fucking woman who knew her own limits. You had picked up the supplements Pryce had prescribed you and you had been feeling perfectly fine. If you ever started to feel any effects, you knew you would head straight to Pryce or your primary doctor.

As another commercial break washed over the screen, Roman opened the door to the bedroom and peeked his head inside.

“You OK?”

“No.”

Roman sighed as he came fully into the room and shut the door behind himself, leaning against it.

“Listen, I’m sorry about the scene down there…”

“I’m sorry, too. I should have asked you first if you would have been OK with me doing this for you.” You slumped your shoulder into the mattress.

Roman just watched you.

“I just… Roman, I really thought you would like it! I thought you might even be grateful. I really meant what I said downstairs, I would give you a star if that would make you happy, I really would. And I thought helping solve your feeding problem would make you happy, and it didn’t, so I’m sorry.”

Still Roman stayed silent, just studying you, wrapped in a coil of thick blankets. He soon walked toward the bed and sat on the corner, his back facing you. He hunched over and placed his head in his hands, gently shook it side to side.

“I was never really even that mad at you, baby. Just at Pryce, I guess. And scared…”

“Scared about what?”

“Seriously? You’re going to ask that?” Roman glowered.

You kicked your foot out to the edge he was sitting on to jostle him, “Don’t be an asshole.”

He grumbled something under his breath that you sure was unkind before he continued.

“I was obviously fucking scared because this could go wrong, alright? You could get sick or stop clotting or something! I don’t know. I don’t have to be rational when it comes to your safety and health.”

You rolled your eyes at that comment, “I thought I was being rational coming up with this idea, Roman. In my head, this would solve everything. No more leeches or starving or worrying that you’ll kill someone when it gets too much!”

Roman looked back at you, his eyes intense as your cheeks heated with your outburst.

“I just-! Fuck,” He turned back around, bouncing his knee, “I don’t want you to do this for me and something bad happening. That’s it, that’s all.”

You frown and whisper his name, just loud enough for him to hear.

“And because you went to Pryce and not me… and that no one at my own fucking company told me about this. Fucking traitors.”

You shuffled your way out from the blankets and crawled your way toward Roman, placing a gentle hand to his shoulder to gage his reaction before you moved to hug him.

“I’m not going to get hurt, I promise. Pryce told me where to buy some vitamins to keep me healthy and they have been working. I won’t continue if I start to feel sick. And if by some chance I do, you will be the first person I tell.”

Roman says nothing at first, but you knew he heard you. You placed a few simple kisses to his shoulder and wound your arms tighter around his waist, snuggling to him.

“I want to know the second you start to feel anything less than fantastic, OK? If you feel faint or nauseous or even if you have a fucking headache, alright? I’m not fucking around here.” He replied firmly.

A smile spread across your face and you pressed it to his skin, “Of course, baby. No more secrets ever again.”

“Yeah, yeah…” Roman trailed off with a sigh, but leaning into your touch.

“You know,” You started, moving around his neck to see his face, “I thought the idea of you drinking my blood was very romantic. Maybe even erotic.”

Roman moved to give you a quizzical look and you only grinned wider.

“Something about giving myself to you fully, running through your veins, letting you have all of me, you don’t think that’s romantic?”

Roman’s lips began to pull into his signature smirk, “I think I was little more taken by your erotic comment.”

You giggled and playfully bit his shoulder, “I don’t know, I think about watching you drink it… about you covered in it and knowing it’s from me,”

Roman was quick to grab you and manhandle you around him and into his lap.

“Yeah?” He asked, smirk persistent as his hands explored your body.

“Yeah… knowing you drink my blood, my cum, that you’re the only one who knows my taste… it got me all hot, baby.”

Roman groaned deep in his chest as he dug his fingers into your hips, twitching his hips up against you and making your eyes flutter.

“My baby, my girl,” He hummed, leaning forward to ghost his lips over your own, “You drive me absolutely wild.”

“All better now?”

Roman just chuckles, grinding you down onto him.

“And you’ll drink the blood?”

“Yeah, fine,” And he finally kisses you.

You knew that he was playing it off now like it was nothing, but the honesty you had shown him, and the utter devotion you had just pledged, meant something to him. It meant everything to him.

i really hope you enjoyed!!!! if you do, i’d love to hear your thoughts (:

[haikyuuscreaming]

hi um so no one requested this but like i went through something basically like this and cried a whole lot about it and i dont think its even that angsty or makes sense but i just barfed it up as a vent fic so haha funny imi’s stupid and writes about her emotional exhaustion as an x reader 

heres an unrequited iwaizumi x reader :D (SORRY THIS ISNT FDSKFJ this isnt really a tumblr drabbles its more of an ao3 oneshot so)

(also sorry if none of the fic makes sense or flows well,,, i just wanted to get this out)

-

Ever since your first day at Kitagawa Daiichi, you found yourself with a crush on Iwaizumi Hajime.

You couldn’t help it. As soon as you saw him in your school-orientation group the week before school started, you couldn’t help but feel something more than a friendly glow. You were already sitting with your orientation group, but once you saw him join the group (albeit sort of late), your stomach practically flipped with butterflies.

He even sat down next to you.

The rest of the orientation went more than fine. Your delight when Iwaizumi started conversations with you was absolutely immeasurable. Even when your group was performing normal get-to-know-you activities, your heart seemed to race every time he made eye contact with you.

“Your name’s [Surname] [Name], right?” Iwaizumi asked, tapping his pencil against his desk. The orientation paper had asked for the names of three people in your group.

“Yeah.. and you’re Iwaizumi Hajime…?” You didn’t really need to question it, but you did so anyway to be polite.

“Mhm. Uh-- sorry, how do you spell your name?” Your heart picked up its pace once you heard him attempt to spell it out. To your feeble, gleeful surprise, he spelled it right.

“Oh! Um, that’s actually how you spell it. Thanks.”

“No problem.” He smiles at you and your seventh grade self felt like beaming brighter.

His impression on you had lasted.

In fact, that first impression on you had made your school year much better somehow.

Initially, you wanted to go to Yukigaoka with your best friends, but you ended up getting into Kitagawa Daiichi. You were miserable at the prospect of going into a school without your best friends that had been with you through thick and thin, but you lit up once you saw your schedule and found you had quite a few classes with Iwaizumi.

Throughout middle school, you made new friends and became close with Iwaizumi and his friend Oikawa Tooru. They eventually became one of your primary friend groups: you and them. Your number one best friend though, you found, was a new friend you made, Hanae.

Maybe the first mistake you made was telling her that you had a crush on Iwaizumi.

Okay, well, you didn’t tell her- she found out? Forced it out of you? Either way, not a big deal, you two are basically sisters now. But you did kind of wish she would stop mentioning it so much.

“Look, [Name]-chan~��� she would always laugh and point at him discreetly whenever he was in the vicinity. “It’s your future boyfriend.”

It was always the same, every time.

“Would you shut up,” you complain, smacking her shoulder lightly which earned a laugh from her. “He could be listening!”

“Just telling the truth~” Hanae would always flash a smile back.

Things changed, though.

On a hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you noticed their glances at each other-- Iwaizumi's being weary, while Oikawa’s was cheeky and sly.

“Hey, what are you two smiling about now?” you laugh lightly. The varied stares they gave you made you quiet down. “No, seriously, are you keeping secrets?”

“Of course not,” Oikawa chimes in. “Iwa-chan has big news though!”

Your heart rate spikes a little bit and you feel sweat beading on the back of your neck. And you're blushing too. Under Iwaizumi's warm, sharp gaze, you feel like melting under his radiance. “Eh? Haji, spit it out!!” Your anxiety falsely passes off as intrigue and excitement.

Flushing a little bit, Iwaizumi scratches his neck and smiles at you, “I wanted you to be the second to know, I have a girlfriend.”

…

You're shell-shocked.

If Oikawa picks up on it, he doesn't say so. “Seeee, [Name]-chan, I know we didn't believe it, but Iwa-chan finally snatched himself a girl!” Iwaizumi responds with a swift punch to the gut.

“I….” you can't find the words. You force yourself to smile like it's the only thing you can do. “Haji, that’s amazing!! Who is it? I didn't even know you had a crush…” Your voice falters but you push your words out as if your life depended on it. How did you manage to sound so genuinely happy when it felt like your entire world was about to crash?

Iwaizumi flushes again and you feel jealousy seep in. You so wish it was you that he blushes for. “Haha, yeah. Oikawa didn't know either for once; I didn't tell anyone, you know? Wasn't really sure yet. But it’s Aika-chan.” The way his face lights up burns a hole in your heart.

He even uses -chan for her. How special. The bitter envy feels like acid rising in your throat, and you feel queasy. Like you could keel over, cry, and puke out your guts.

“Ohhh, Aika-san is cute,” you make yourself say.

(Honestly, you're so good at lying and saying this wrong but right bullshit, you’d think you're a sociopathic robot or something.)

“Mmm… don't get jealous though, [Name]-chan, you're cuter!” Oikawa hums and you laugh loudly, hoping that you'll fake it till you make it. “Tell her how it happened, Iwa-chan. It was hilaaarious.”

The poison in you burns harsher but you nod along.

“Don't tell me what to do, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi bites almost playfully, before meeting your blank gaze with his kind, gently blazing eyes that always made you weak. Right now, you were not weak in the good way. “Aika-chan confessed to me yesterday near the sakura tree after we had class together… and I don't know, I guess it really clued me in that the feelings I had were real.”

(Iwaizumi looks so happy and content that it makes you want to be happy too, but you honestly feel like doing nothing but crying.)

“Aww, that's so sweet~” Your voice gets softer and you hate yourself so much for sounding weak.

But before either boy can reply, the panic and agony sets in. You feel your eyes glass up and your body tense, and your mind is begging you not to break down.

Unfortunately, they both notice.

“[Name]-chan? Are you okay?? You look kinda sick~” Oikawa sounds cheery and playful but his eyes convey an undercurrent of worry.

And bless Iwaizumi’s stupidly handsome oblivion, he blinks at your worriedly and puts a hand on your shoulder to steady you. “Do you need to go to the nurse? School’s still open I think, and it's right around the corner-”

Fuck him and his mind-meltingly handsome everything. Just his voice and his sharp gaze makes you want to cry harder and collapse to him.

“I-I have to go, sorry guys,” You fucking despise how cracked your voice is becoming as your facade slips. “I promised Hanae that I'd go get bubble tea with her. See you Monday.”

Eyes stinging, you turn as quick as you can and ignore their confused voices.

(The tears flow like acid and you feel like dissolving from the inside out.)

Months pass and you deny your horrifyingly strong yet compressed feelings.

You greet Aika and Iwaizumi in the hallways, and you know that you're happy because Iwaizumi is, and that's honestly all you could ask for your long-time crush (turned bitter love). You even talk to Aika freely during shared classes, just to disguise your depressing jealousy.

Every time you see them share a discreet kiss or grip each other's hands, you genuinely wish you were dying. It sure feels like you are.

(Like you're drowning, like your lungs are burning up and you're begging for oxygen, begging to breathe in Iwaizumi's love that's reserved for someone else. It hurts a lot but he's happy.)

(So you have to be happy.)

Hanae spares you sympathetic looks. “Come on, wifey-chan, you're married to meee. Get over him, he doesn't deserve you if he chose Aika the troll over you.”

“That's mean,” you sigh and crumble onto Hanae. “Aika-san’s nice. And pretty. And talented. It's no wonder Haji would choose her.”

“Stopppp! You’re so much more than Troll-chan, okay?!?” Hanae’s pep talk is brash, but you appreciate the charm. “If Iwaizumi-kun doesn’t see that, I’ll punch him.”

You laugh lightly at the fact that Hanae had talked to Iwaizumi enough to be calling him kun, but your voice is still heavy despite the sentiment. “You're so weird. But that's why I love you.”

“Of course you do~”

On another innocent hang-out with Iwaizumi and Oikawa, you’re met with abrupt news.

“Aika and I broke up.” Iwaizumi mutters softly.

“Eeeeh?!” You’re shell-shocked again, but you'd be lying if you said you were crushed like last time. “But-- but you guys were doing so well! You were the cutest couple!”

“She broke up with him over text,” Oikawa chimes in and you gape as Iwaizumi punches him again. “Two days ago.”

“She what-”

“She said she wasn't ready for a relationship,” is all Iwaizumi says.

You feel heartbreak and burning pity boil inside of you. “I-I’m so sorry, Haji… you didn't deserve that. You'll find someone better.”

Me. It's me, I promise I won't break your heart the way she did, because you're all I ever wanted.

He nods and for the first time in a while, he hugs you tight. “Yeah..”

It breaks you because it feels so good, his embrace warming you.

But it breaks you more to hear him whisper, “I can’t get over her though.”

(You just wanted him to be happy but he can’t. You can’t fix it.)

“You will,” you breathe out, trying not to let the tears slip. “You’re gonna be okay.”

(You know you’re not.)

But you don’t say that when you feel Iwaizumi’s shaky breath and him muttering, “Thanks.”

“Oh my god, [Name], did you hear about Hajime-kun?” Hanae’s alarmed voice three days later makes you concerned.

First of all, Hajime-kun-- “W-What? What happened now??” Nonetheless, panic still seeps into you.

“Aika broke up with him!!” Hanae seems so worked up over this and you wonder, how close is she to him? “Can you believe it?? She really threw away one of the best people in school!”

Shouldn’t I be saying that…? “Yeah, I know…” you try not to sound too bitter. “But like, it’s not really her fault she wasn’t ready for a relationship..”

Hanae huffs and crosses her arms, leaning onto you. “Well, I mean you’re right, but she shouldn’t have signed herself up for it if this was gonna happen. I feel so bad for him.” You’re about to layer on your argument, but Hanae straightens up and smirks. “See, your man’s single. Shoot your shot!”

“Right after a break-up?? Hanae, you’re batshit crazy-”

“Uh, well, make him like you, then shoot your shot!”

Your head and heart kind of hurts from all this talk about Iwaizumi, no matter how smitten you are for him, so you just blindly nod and agree.

It works for the rest of the day until you get home and cry into your pillow, wondering what to do.

Hope is re-kindled into you.

Over the past two-ish months, post-breakup, you find that comforting Iwaizumi makes you feel much better than wallowing in your self-pity. It’s a win-win: you’re putting even more of his trust into you, you two are getting even closer, and this could quite possibly end up in a great situation.

You melt at the sight of Iwaizumi, and every day you can see happiness soak back into him. Every time he laughs at one of your stupid jokes or grins at you while you rant and complain, you feel like your heart stops out of complete adoration of how stunning he is in every way you can think of.

He isn't perfect, but you think he's the perfect match for you.

And one day, at a study “date” (you try very hard not to take that term to heart!!) at a café, Iwaizumi peers up from laptop and gives you his signature, gruff yet content smile and says, “You know, I don't think I need Aika anymore.”

(You want to kiss him.)

It’s honestly been a shitty time for you and your friends, you realize.

Hanae broke up with her boyfriend, as you would have figured over the past few weeks she’s been ranting to you about how annoying and clingy and overprotective he is, but you found that she broke up with him over text. Oikawa went through three girlfriends in a month, to which he pouted and whined about but you knew he was secretly relieved that he didn’t have to carry more burden. And there’s the whole heartache Iwaizumi thing, even though things have been getting relatively better.

(You also realize amongst all your friends, you’re the only one who’s stayed very, very very single. You hope that’ll change soon.)

Things are going absolutely amazing with Iwaizumi. Even Oikawa’s been smirking at you and teasing you about your “true love” (to which you frustratedly deny but you honestly know that it’s just the truth when you consider your feelings for him). The two of you have felt confident enough to spend time with each other at your respective homes without feeling awkward or the need to have Oikawa there to provide a third wheel. You couldn’t wish for anything more.

So now you’re at a family-friend’s party, lounging on the couch away from the scene, on your phone. It’s so loud, but you’re content and refreshed on all the snacks you’ve practically been inhaling. Your phone pings in your hand and you glance up at the notification you’ve just received.

Oh, a text~

It’s from Hanae.

poopy hanae >:)): [name] are you busyyy

YOU: no not really

YOU: just at a party

poopy hanae >:)): OH okay so um can i tell you something but

poopy hanae >:)): i dont want you to get mad or sad ...so please let me just finish my texts

YOU: ?? yea go ahead , ill wait for you to finish :)

You feel kind of nervous once she puts it like that, but you let her continue.

poopy hanae >:)): remember how after my break up i promised i wouldn’t fall for anyone else, not for a while yk? i promised that to me and him: i wouldn’t let my heart get broken or whatever. but i found out that i don’t think i’ve ever really fallen for my ex. i think i just dated him because i felt bad and felt like i had to date him because i didn’t wanna reject him… but it happened still. but i think i’m in love now. honestly.

poopy hanae >:)): i’ve never felt this way around any guy before, not my ex, not anyone. everytime i see him my heart goes crazy, and i want to talk to him all the time. he’s just so perfect in every way. he’s so smart, he’s handsome as hell, he’s strong and caring… and i promised both of you i wouldn’t fall for anyone else but i broke that promise to him, you, and me. and i think you’ve figured out who he is now.

poopy hanae >:((: i’m sorry i can’t help it. i didn’t want to tell you because that would make our friendship weird but i hope now we’re at the stage where we will still be best friends regardless of him. i’m truly in love with iwaizumi hajime and i’m gonna confess to him on monday (tmr). i love him so much but i want you to know i love you more so he won’t ever get in the way of us. ily <3

The more you read the message, the more it makes you want to cry. Your hand starts trembling around your milk tea and you feel your face warm up, your eyes glassing over and your vision blurring. Stumbling your way into the bathroom, you lock yourself inside, staring at yourself in the mirror. You watch your delicate, shaking features in the mirror as the first bitter tear rolls down your cheek. More tears follow.

Sobs wrack your body and hot tears glide down your face, constantly, like a river. Whimpers escape you, and your lips are cracked and dry, and you keep thinking, Why would she do this to me?

YOU: ahaha it’s okay!!!

YOU: a boy shouldn’t get between us, ly :) make him happy

YOU: you desrvee him mroe than anbyody else

You cover your mouth with your shaking fingers in hopes that the others can’t hear you outside over the music.

You pretend it’s fine the next day at school.

Hanae doesn’t even mention it, but she hugs you a lot more and keeps whispering, “I love you”. The bitterness has sunken in a little bit and you resist the urge to tell her, It doesn’t change the fact that you broke me, but you figure that it’ll be okay.

You’ll just lose your feelings for Iwaizumi so she doesn’t have “competition”.

(It turns out to be harder than you think.)

When you see Iwaizumi at lunch, his smile never fails to make you flush a little bit and make you feel so warm and comfy. When he sits down next to you (!! ahhh!) since Hanae was in line for lunch, he makes a sigh-grunt noise as he nestles his chin into the crook of his palm. Oikawa, bless his dumb ass, sidles down next to you, making a dramatic sigh.

“Did you know Hanae-chan confessed to Iwa-chan today?”

You try so, so SO hard not to tense. “Yeah. She told me a few days ago that she- she was in love with him.”

(The way your voice cracks at “in love” is pathetic, you think.)

You don’t miss the way Oikawa’s face briefly flashes a frown at you before morphing back into his signature pretty-boy smile. Iwaizumi looks a little embarrassed to be talking about this but he nods. “Yeah, she pulled me aside right before lunch and… yeah. It was so embarrassing…” You’re in fucking awe of how cute he is even when he’s distressed, but you remind yourself (with a pang of bitterness) that you aren’t supposed to think that anymore.

“And I turned her down,” Iwaizumi continues, and your ears almost fucking pop at the noise. He- how, what? Why? “‘Cause I don’t know, I never really felt that way about her. I guess that’s why she’s been talking to me more and more lately. She said she understood if I wasn’t ready to move on ‘cause of Aika and stuff, but.. she said something like she’ll change my mind.” He snorts and murmurs, “I don’t think that’ll happen, honestly.”

Oikawa laughs, a peppery laugh accompanied with a side-eyed glance towards you. “Iwa-chan, you’re such a brute~ You sure that’s the only reason you turned her down?”

Iwaizumi lets out a snort again. “Yeah.. I’m over Aika now, but I don’t think I’m ready for a relationship. Plus, there isn’t anyone that I like like now. Hanae doesn’t stand out.”

The statement makes you crumble on the inside.

You idiot of a best friend. What good are you if you don’t stand up for Hanae?

But it doesn’t matter! He said he has no interest in anyone, including you. Or her. It’s pointless, futile. He never even considered you.

You’re so stupid, so worthless sometimes. You’re the worst. It doesn’t matter if you would go to the end of the world for Hajime. You have to give this up for her. Fight for her because he would never settle for someone like you.

You fight back the sob crawling in your throat, as your self-loathe and intrusive thoughts rain in. You try so hard not to let it get to you, but still-

It’s what Hanae deserves for putting up with you.

“You should give her a chance,” you force a small smile. “I mean, she’s pretty and smart, you know?”

Oikawa gives you a pitying gaze before Iwaizumi shakes his head, his cheek now pressing against his palm. “Nah. I don’t like anyone in that way now, and it’s gonna stay like that for a while, I’d think.”

He doesn’t like anyone in that way.

You shrug and nod, “Fair enough,” but your voice is so much smaller. You love Iwaizumi Hajime so much, and he’s always been your everything. From his habits to his comforting demeanor and his entire profile, he’s always infatuated you and you know that no matter how hard you deny it for anyone, you will never let go of the feelings that shackle you to him like chains.

You love him so much.

But I guess I’ll never win.

[annecoulmanross]

A Re(sponse)-Re-Re-Review, Re: The Terror (2018)

I’ve recently read through all of the gorgeous review posts of The Terror (2018) from @rhavewellyarnbag​ and I just want to say that I think they’re incredibly beautiful and thoughtful responses to this show – all three amazing rounds of them.

I started out simply collecting quotes that were amusing to me, but my notes document very quickly became full of my own responses and confessions. Basically, I ended up making my own response/review of the whole thing, which is what you’ll find in this post.

So, thank you @rhavewellyarnbag​ for your many insightful thoughts about this show and my responses are below the cut! (Also, your repeated efforts to drive Goodsir to the hospital are a truly noble service, and bring me comfort in these dark times.)

01x01 – “Go For Broke” (One, Two, and Three) 

“Ciaran Hinds looks like a grand old walrus.”

This was the line that made me realize I needed to start keeping track of quotes that made me laugh like a seal barking.

“‘You should cherish that man.’ I cherish that fucking line of dialog. I don’t even mean it in a filthy way. That line is so goddamn sweet, I could punch myself in the face.”

Amongst all the beautiful content produced about this show, almost nothing will ever surpass, for me, this description of this line of dialogue paired with that post about “Idiot Boat Caesar, who knows a slow-burn when he sees one.” Sir John has an astonishing capacity to be truly warm on rare occasions, and this is one of the few scenes in which we really get to see James experience that warmth, both genuinely and, here, in the form of a truly gentle, well-meant rebuke that probably cuts James far more than we see.

“This is an interesting scene with the diving suit. This could potentially go very badly. The man in the suit may be dispatched by the mysterious horror following them, or, in order not to give it away, and to show a scientific curiosity, he may die of decompression of the suit.”

Fun fact: one of my great-grandfathers apparently died of decompression from using an early-model diving suit. I learned this when I was word-vomiting to my mother about The Terror. I am now even more terrified of historical diving suits. All diving suits, really.

“If James’ characterization plays around with gender, it does so in this sense: James is constantly acted upon, by the bullet that wounded him, by the disease that fells him, by others’ opinions of him.”

Watch me attempt to cite your reviews of the The Terror in a dissertation, because everything about this description is exactly the gender framework around which I’ve draped the two historical men with whom I’ve fallen in love, one being my actual subject of research, the other being James Fitzjames.

“I’ve previously compared James’ bravery, his very person, to a woman’s beauty: bestowed upon her, not earned; understood to be temporary; dependent upon others’ admiring, desiring of it. Does James exist when no one is around to observe him?”

I adore everything about this description and also it makes me cry.

“There are a great deal of unfortunate classical references in this episode.”

This is my entire mood about The Terror, always. The nods to Philoctetes and Medea as components of the Argonaut myth that Sir John invokes are also distinctly worth exploring in this context, though I’m not going to do so here because the Argonautica (broadly speaking) is not my speciality.

01x02 – “Gore” (One, Two, and Three)

“James and Sir John are about the same height. They look not dissimilar, which James probably liked.”

Oh James.

“Strangely, [Sir John] doesn’t seem particularly pleased with James, who adores him.”

It’s true, and it’s quite painful. I don’t think Sir John is a good role model for James, but it doesn’t lessen the fact that I know James is perceptive enough to know that he’s not being adored in return, and that’s a brutal thing to know.

“You don’t have to be a drunk redheaded sea captain to see that James is empty, hollow, aching, desperate to be the things he tells you he is, desperate to see himself reflected back at himself. Desperate to be loved.”

I have a type, and this is it, apparently.

“Goodsir is a character from another sort of work, entirely. That’s its own kind of tragedy, the tragic juxtaposition. Goodsir is a sweet, gentle, utterly ordinary little pudding, an incidental character plucked from a more innocent narrative, and he’s no-doubt going to die horribly.”

This is the early impression of Goodsir, before any of us see what’s beneath Goodsir’s surface, but it’s also not wrong at all. In another sort of work (perhaps, as noted, a work by Jane Austen), Goodsir is (uniquely, among these men, perhaps) capable of living a sweet, gentle, utterly ordinary little life, with a more innocent narrative.

“It’s strongly implied that Irving’s imagination is so open that he has to work to close it.”

That’s certainly true of the historical Irving, as I read it. I have many more complex thoughts and feelings about Irving now than I did after just watching the series through the first time, but I’m not sure whether that’s because his story-line is actually rich, or because I’ve come to like him separately. (Unlike, for instance, Fitzjames, whom I have come to adore separately, but I can safely say does also have a rich story-line in these ten episodes.) The real Irving is more elusive than I think I at least gave him credit for originally.

“Oh, James Fitzjames, you overly-familiar little strumpet, you.”

I’m sobbing.

“Scurvy doesn’t care what kind of person you are.”

In many ways this is true, because we do see scurvy acting indiscriminately on different men, here, without a care for age or station or morality. But also scurvy, in this narrative, attacks most vividly those with some sort of previous wound that the scurvy can reopen. Notably James, but also Morfin, whose flogging-scars we never see but can assume from his conversation (also, for that matter, Jopson, who, historically, had a major scar on his leg, of unknown origin). Scurvy may not truly care what kind of person you are, but if you’ve led a dangerous life, scurvy has one more way to hurt you.

“Who among us has not been desperate to discuss our interests, to the point where there is almost a flirtatious edge to the broaching of the topic?  One must be careful, so as not to give away too much, both for the gentle handling that one’s interests require, and for the sake of not alienating some poor rando who made the mistake of asking a bland, vague question simply to be polite.”

Ah, so I see you understand, then. I’ve taken to apologizing in advance of discussing the gorier elements of the Franklin expedition, as though I’ve exposed myself in public. (But seriously, this is the most excellent description of the discomforting feeling of very more obsessed with something than is socially acceptable.)

01x03 – “The Ladder” (One, Two, and Three) 

“John Ross is the Jacob Marley figure, I take it.”

The beginning of many intriguing resonances between this show and Dickens’s Christmas Carol, and I think, one of the most elegant. The actor who plays John Ross would be an excellent Jacob Marley.  

“Jopson would not talk about Francis’ drinking! You take that back, Gibson.”

This is what I adore about Thomas “Mr. Hears Everything” Jopson – he’ll only ever tell things about others to Francis; he’d never tell things about Francis to others. That’s a moral compass upon which we can unerringly rely, and one that is in no way affected by the magnetic changes at either pole.

“The spyglass sticks to the skin above Francis’ eye, as though it wished to force him not to look away.”

This is an amazing take, especially re: the way spyglasses are used to show foresight and the future in this show. Francis is forced to know look at what is coming for them, the future that waits ahead, hungrily salivating for his men.

“James is completely shattered, but he looks luminously beautiful.”

He does, doesn’t he?

01x04 – “Punished As A Boy” (One, Two, and Three)

“Lady Jane’s response is: ‘Fuck you. I know Charles Dickens.’”

Much as I detest Dickens, and much as I have my own problems with Lady Jane, she is never anything less than badass, particularly here.

“Lady Jane, clad in burgundy, ‘the wine-dark sea,’ stands between Francis and Sophia.”

Oh good god that’s it, though? It was through Lady Jane that I first found the Franklin Expedition, oh, four years ago (it feels like four hundred), and the first thing I ever said about the matter was “I’m confident that she knew Greek.” I’ve never been able to prove it, but she writes, in her letters, like someone who reads Greek. Lady Jane is well and truly our Homeric Hera. Brilliant and vengeful and matronly and brutal. I do adore her.

“Of course Goodsir’s never been lashed.  He’s a nice man.  He’s probably had the opposite of a flogging.  People probably throw roses at him when he walks down the street. I know I would.”

I’d be happy to attend this rose-throwing Goodsir-parade. I already have a bad habit of bringing roses to the pseudo-graves of historical men whom I love; we can add Goodsir to the list without too much hassle.

01x05 –  “First Shot’s A Winner, Lads” (One, Two, and Three) 

“[Re: James and “Your nails are a terror, Mr. Wentzall]…the checking of collars and fingernails is a very maternal duty.”

I love spotting feminine traits in James, but what I’m getting out of this is actually imagining James’s adoptive mother Louisa Coningham examining the fingernails of a very young James. It’s an adorable, if slightly tragic, image.

“Irving doesn’t seem like a hard man, but like a man trying desperately to be hard, and often failing. He should have forgotten about the navy, stayed on land, gone to France and become an early Impressionist painter.”

This fantastic description of Irving makes it even more tragic that he DID try to forget about the navy and stay on land, and it didn’t work. Canon divergence AU where Irving moved to France instead of Australia?

“We’re told, repeatedly, including by Goodsir, himself, that Goodsir isn’t a doctor.  It’s a fundamental misunderstanding: people think they know who Goodsir is, or who he wishes to be, but Goodsir has no desire to be anything but what he is. Perhaps appropriately, it’s Hickey who recognizes and names Goodsir (“You’re an anatomist.”) One may say that Hickey ‘reads’ Goodsir. Though, Hickey’s understanding is, as it often is, flawed.  He may know what Goodsir is, but he doesn’t know who Goodsir is.”

I very genuinely wonder – did Goodsir want to be thought of as a doctor, by any of them? What were Goodsir’s thoughts and preferences on the matter?

01x06 – “A Mercy” (One, Two, and Three)  

“What Sir John left them was a means of dissembling, a facade. Cheer in a cheerless time, which holds the dangerous allure of forgetting.”

This is perfect, because Carnevale, at its center, is “the dangerous allure of forgetting,” in no small part because, structurally, Carnevale fills the role of the Homeric island of the lotus-eaters. (It is also a labyrinth, though, and that’s an interesting doubling.)

“The half masks in the trunk have the semblance of the faces of dead men we’ve seen. The creature has the habit or practice of biting a man’s head in two, or biting off part of the cranium.”

I had never noticed this but it’s entirely true.

“Francis is bracketed by Thomas’, neither one of them a doubter.”

I will SCREAM

“‘I don’t like to hear a woman laughing now.’  I suppose it’s fortunate that Jopson’s professional life allows him to be around men, exclusively.  What would Jopson have done later in life?  Marriage is obviously out of the question if women’s mirth causes him such distress.  Would he have stayed on boats?  Francis promotes him to lieutenant, but would that have made him happy?  He has a love of, an instinct for caring for others that obviously can’t be transposed onto a marriage, both because of Jopson’s limits and because of Victorian gender roles.  The best possible course for Jopson would have been valet, a gentleman’s gentleman.  His rank and background would have made him an asset, and no more devoted valet would there have been.”

The fanfic writes itself. (I have nothing to say yet, I just adore this speculation; more below, though.)

“The drop of blood falling from James’ hairline onto the mask’s cheek to make a kind of morbid beauty spot is a gorgeous image, like a piece of decadent poetry.”

I personally find James unbearably beautiful, and the whole extended sequence with the dress and the drinking and the blood dripping is so subtle and lovely and I think, like with poetry, what we get out of it is never simple.

“James is dressed as Britannia. Which makes James mother to them all.”

Though I, selfishly, would have loved to see James in something more scandalous than his Britannia costume, I think it’s symbolically the best possible choice for him. This is an outfit that is technically crossdressing, but it’s very subtle thanks to the choices James makes – we don’t see any dramatic woman’s wig or other feminine elements. This is an outfit that reminds the men of home; reminds James of home, and of his adoptive mother, whose poetry was full to the brim and spilling with Britannia.

“Blanky looks great. I wonder if the visual reference to the Ghost of Christmas Present is intentional.”

I’ve always assumed he was meant to be Bacchus, but of course the Ghost of Christmas Present has more than a little Bacchus in him also. All of these Christmas Carol overlaps are exceedingly interesting – John Ross’s Marley warning Franklin’s Scrooge, and now the Ghost of Blanky Present reminding Crozier that others are – for good or ill – having fun without him.

“One may imagine that Edward has disguised himself as someone who enjoys parties.”

OH GOD.

01x07 – “Horrible From Supper” (One, Two, and Three)  

“Hickey can’t move on from humiliation, because he would see that as more humiliation. Keeping the humiliation alive in his mind is the only way to gain some mastery over it. He holds the wound open, so that no one can deny that it’s a wound, that it happened, that it mattered, that he matters, but it means that he can never heal, never be whole. Scurvy.”

The Hickey/Fitzjames parallels are STRONG here. Also, this resonates really well with a conversation I had with a friend about Eleanor Guthrie from Black Sails – she’s unable to move past being hurt and I just can’t fault her for it, even as her stubbornness just hurts her more. And I feel that sympathy for James, too – he’s bottled up so much hurt inside, and it has kept hurting him his entire life. If Hickey didn’t “hold the would open” by, you know, making wounds in other people, literally, I’d probably even feel bad for him.

“There is an emotional and psychological toll, which Francis tries desperately to reduce by keeping the men together, reinforcing the bonds between them, persistently humanizing them.”

The Jopson’s promotion scene warms me on cold nights. That’s all.

“Jopson’s role is the opposite of Lady Silence’s: the fact of her gender alters nothing about it; Jopson’s informs it.  Make Jopson female, and he clearly functions as Francis’ wife.  If Jopson is male, though, what is he?  A paid servant, in the literal sense, but his obvious pleasure at caring for Francis long ago eroded the patina of duty.  I think we can safely say that Jopson loves Francis, loves and cares deeply for him.  Is invested in Francis’ safety, well-being, happiness.  Enjoys the details of his service to Francis, beyond the enjoyment of a job well-done.  Add a sexual component, and it becomes a marriage.  Leave it out, and the relationship is something else.  Drop Jopson into a marriage with a woman, and he becomes a husband.  Leave him with Francis, and he remains Francis’ wife.”

This is what I find so fascinating about Jopson – everything about his identity has the potential to be contingent, to change, but as the expedition’s tragedy unfolds, we see all of the possible threads of Jopson’s future cut off, one by one. From the beginning, Jopson can’t be female, and thus can’t serve a wifely role in British society, even though he’s clearly fit for it. We learn that Jopson has some very specific PTSD triggers related to women that might prevent him from ever being married to one, even if he wanted to be. Jopson seems to wish to continue serving Francis in perpetuity, to continue being as close to a wife as Francis will ever have, but Francis, sober, no longer needs the same kind of care that Jopson used to provide, and, eventually, Jopson becomes unable to care for Francis at all, so that Francis has to care for him. Jopson is all change, all tragedy.

“I would like to thank the director, cinematographer, anybody else who may be responsible for that stunning shot of James in profile. James really is beautiful, even, maybe particularly, at this stage of his infirmity. I’ve said it at other times, but there’s something, well, I suppose, romantic about his illness, because he is young, and beautiful, and heroic, so desperate to be loved, and so loved, in the end.”

*sighs* I’m not okay about James.

01x08 – “Terror Camp Clear” (One, Two, and Three) 

“I don’t know how I didn’t notice before, but James is a leggy creature.”

I will still treasure the term “a leggy creature” when I am in my grave.

“Sir John was not a top, and I know that for a fact, because I just got Lady Jane on the Ouija board, and she told me.”

I WILL SCREAM.

“[Francis] doesn’t look on James as a sick person in need of careful handling. There’s no sense of the separation necessary for pity between Francis and James. He is this way toward James because he cares about James.”

I know we all joke about the quote “it’s rotten work” / “not to me, not if it’s you,” but this is what that quote has always meant to me (the Anne Carson of it, that is, not the original Greek). Caring for someone via pity, via distance, takes effort, is painful, is rotten, even though it is sometimes worth it. Caring for someone via care, via love may still take effort, and may still even be painful, but there is no separation, no alienation, from the service of providing care. That’s where Francis’s tenderness comes from, I think. That closeness.

“James, you big, beautiful racehorse.  Even chapped and cracked, he’s radiantly beautiful.  He has such a warm quality.”

In the confessional spirit of this review, I will admit: I find James more attractive than I am capable of expressing. The interesting thing, to me, is that I don’t have the same response at all to Tobias Menzies or to any other character I’ve seen him play. He’s a great actor, certainly, but he doesn’t do it for me. But James does. I’m still puzzling this out.

“James’ bravery is treated somewhat like a woman’s beauty, in that he believes it to be conditional, temporary. It’s dependent on others’ appreciation of it; when he’s alone, James doesn’t feel brave.”

I will say, admitting that it’s probably James’ femininity that is attractive to me gets you a long way toward understanding why I do find him so terribly appealing.

“Oh, please, baby Jesus, don’t let Jopson flip. Jopson’s one of the few things I have left to hang onto, here.”

Jopson will never flip, such that Jopson’s death really is the point of no return, here. He’ll die before he flips. (Notably, it’s important to be clear that by “flip,” I mean turn his loyalties away from Crozier. I have reconciled myself to the idea that, though Jopson is upright and innocent in a way even my James isn’t, he is capable of violence and even unjustified, offensive violence. But only ever in the service of his captain.) And again here, Jopson very well might not be immune to the seduction Hickey’s definitely attempting, but bending to Hickey’s wiles means betraying Crozier, and that’s an impossibility for Jopson.

“Bridgens, who’s a cozy old piece of furniture…”

….and Henry Peglar would like to sit on him. (I get it Henry, I do.)  

01x09 – “The C, the C, the Open C” (One, Two, and Three) 

“Oh, Bridgens. Where’s Henry? Where did Henry go?”

I think a real triumph of this show is getting you to know, by this point, that when you see Bridgens, you should ALWAYS ask yourself, “Where’s Henry?” Because yeah, “They are each other’s loved one,” and there can’t be either one of them without the other. Bridgens knows this, and makes himself into a memorial for Henry. The only kind of monument Henry Peglar can ever have: Bridgens, with his own body, preserves Peglar’s words for the future, for us. I’m just going to cry for Bridgens and for Peglar for a minute, that’s all. Please excuse me.

“Hartnell watches Bridgens pick up Peglar, Peglar’s arm around Bridgens like, ‘… Wait a minute…’ Hartnell also misses Hickey’s innuendo about Armitage.  Tom Hartnell tragically has no gay-dar.”

Oh precious Hartnell. This lack of gay-dar is part of why Hartnell had to get written out of what I’m currently writing (I’m sorry Hartnell! It’s not you it’s me.)

“There’s something of a horrible wooing about it: Goodsir, like an unwilling bride, forcibly taken from his own people by unscrupulous men, installed in as luxurious surroundings as can be had, with his trousseau, for the purpose of catering to an unspeakable hunger.  His innocence is taken from him, and he’s turned against himself. His body is stripped naked and consumed.”

(a) What a horrible and horribly accurate description. (b) This is another one of those places where this show is unafraid to place male characters into narrative metaphors of womanhood. For me, the most vivid is always Jopson, but Goodsir is also often made to face this sort of feminine role, and for Goodsir it’s so much more often about violence and shame.

“James says “I’m not Christ,” before he tells Francis to feed the men his body.  It seems like something of a non sequitur, until one imagines James’ train of thought.  As the impulse to give his body to the men occurred to him, so may have also come a last flicker of self-mockery: “What, James, do you think you’re Christ, now?”  So that his announcement that he’s not Christ comes in response to this: he knows who he is, and who he isn’t.  Finally, he knows this.”

I think that’s exactly what went through James’s head. And more than that, I think back on that beautiful gif-set that placed James’s “I’m not Christ” beside Francis’s “Like Christ, but with more nails.” Francis, whose self-hatred is clear and undisguised, begins to heal by recognizing what is Christ-like in himself: his suffering, and the compassion that is borne from the suffering. James, whose self-hatred is buried under masks and lies and stories and gilded dresses, begins to heal by admitting what is not Christ-like about him: his mortality, his humanity; and that doesn’t make James any lesser, and James finally, finally begins to see so.  

“Can’t Jopson’s story end differently, this time?”

That’s what hurts. In no version of this story that happens with Hickey AND the Tuunbaq AND the inevitable deaths of 129 men, should James die any different, or Goodsir, or Bridgens. If they were going to die, they should do so showing bravery and brotherhood; agency and defiance; commitment and love. There are other men who deserved so much better than the ignoble deaths they got (Irving comes to mind) but Jopson is the warmest light and receives the coldest death. There’s no reason for his story NOT to end differently, except for the sheer narrative cruelty of it all. The Terror is brilliant because it knows to reserve this sort of agony for the worst possible gut-punch. Any more than one, or maybe two, utterly, pointlessly cruel deaths, and we would be immunized. But we have no immunity to prepare us for the dizzying nausea of Jopson’s death.

“The mystery of love is greater than the mystery of death.  Death, ultimately, isn’t mysterious. Whatever might happen to one afterwards is immaterial to the living, still bound to this plane of existence.  One may fear it, but once it happens, it’s over.  Love is a way of life, though.  It changes over time.  It changes the person who feels it, and the person they feel it for.  Both Francis and Jopson were changed by their love for each other.  Jopson goes to one mystery still in the grip of the other: it’s Francis he sees, reaches for, cannot touch.”

Jopson’s death is still haunting me. It’s like Tantalus, all that food that would save Jopson’s life, if only he could eat it, and yet he crawls right past, toward Crozier. What does that say about Jopson? The way the world tortures him is to hold Crozier just outside of his reach – what on earth is Jopson being punished for? (These aren’t intelligible thoughts anymore; I’m just broken-hearted for my boy.)

“In a narrative that encourages empathy for everyone and everything from a colonial expedition to a monkey to an eldritch monstrosity that rips men’s heads off, why should Hickey be exempt?”

A beautiful way of putting it. I’m still working through my initial disgust at Hickey, but intellectually, I can’t help but agree.

01x10 – “We Are Gone” (One, Two, and Three)

“…the experience of being through so much with these characters that I care about so much has been like living several lifetimes.”

My mother, who has not yet watched this show, told me recently that she thinks these characters have become my family. In part, this is due to the historical research I’ve been doing on the real men of the Franklin expedition, but the show played its own large role in making me fall in love with these men, making me desperate to live as many lifetimes with them as possible.

“Why does Goodsir do it, though?  He seems to have made up his mind before Francis appears, and with Francis comes the hope that Edward will rescue them.  If anything, Francis’ presence makes Goodsir more resolute.”

As another dear friend said, Goodsir definitely had the plan in mind before Francis showed up, but the plan needed a trigger: it needed Francis, a good man worth dying for. Someone for Goodsir to look at and say, “Maybe my actions will help this man.”

“I think I just confessed to being in love with a man who doesn’t exist.”

Ahh, this lovely club. Even the men I’m in love with who actually lived two thousand years ago don’t really exist, at least not in the way I love them.  

“The Terror is like a play put on by a theater company that has no female actors, so all of the men must play female roles…without any women to place in certain contexts – caretaker; lover; victim; object of desire – those dramas necessarily play out on the bodies of the men.”

Watch this space. The Terror is a classical Greek tragedy, and I can prove it.

The description of Goodsir’s preparation for death is richer and more complete than anything I will ever write. GO READ IT.

I also think it’s fascinating to see this scene through the eyes of a reviewer who readily admits “This is an unusual case. I like Goodsir. I don’t usually like the men I’m looking at. I care for Goodsir.” I confess that, though I also like and care for Goodsir, when I am looking at “eroticized male bodies” in media, I only really “feel at home in a text” when I also like and care for those men. If a male character is too morally objectionable to me, I find no erotic appeal to viewing him, because I am so distracted by my own sense of his evils. I simply cannot find anything to pull me, aesthetically or sexually, to someone like Hickey. (I can never find anything sensually appealing about Hickey/Tozer, for instance.) I am pulled to James, in contrast, because he is beautiful to me visually, and because his life (as far as I can see) shows me a person who cared, who tried, who loved. Who is worthy of my care and trust.  And though I don’t think I’m in love with Goodsir in the same way than I am with James, I care deeply for Goodsir and thus can find the appeal in watching him, visually.

“‘There is wonder here.’/ ‘Then, there will be the angels.’ The first thing angels ever tell any human being who beholds them is not to be afraid.  Wonder isn’t always delightful, isn’t always something that humans can understand, or possibly, even, survive.”

Fear is something I don’t often enough examine closely with this show, though it is so terribly central. “Be not afraid” and “We have too much fear.” How can one dispel fear? Wonder obviously isn’t enough; wonder might even make it worse. Being told not to fear rarely works out so well for those visited by angels. I think, sometimes, that all we can do is – as Peglar does – admit to those we love that we have too much fear, and hope that they can help us carry it.

I can’t NOT give you the end of the first round of these reviews, because, like the description of Goodsir’s preparations, it’s literature: 

“The Terror, a show taking place one hundred, sixty years ago, manages to be timely without even trying.  Lead poisoning.  Environmental catastrophe.  The baggage of colonialism.  The treatment of indigenous people by white people. Information and misinformation.  What it means to be a leader.  What it means to be in a marriage.  The role of women in society.  Gay marriage.  Income inequality.  Ethical consumption.  Consumerism. Members of the armed forces working far from home.  Mental health. Addiction.  All of these fit neatly into what can also be taken at face value, a well-constructed and -acted tale of adventure and loss set in a faraway place and time.  The Terror never tries to force meaning on the viewer, never struggles under the weight of its lofty aspirations- because it has no aspirations.  It’s an utterly guileless production, seeking nothing but to present its characters and situations honestly.  In doing such a simple thing, it has created the world.”

And, finally, I leave you with: “I’m not looking for a way out.  I just want more time with the characters. I don’t want to leave them.” To me, this gives an answer to David Solway’s question “Do you have a tolerance for ongoing narratives which generally turn out to be the same narrative?” And that answer is “yes.” I think there’s a tolerance – or, even, a hunger – for ongoing narratives that turn out to be the same narrative, in this fandom, because why would anyone want a way out anymore, if it means the end of our time with these characters?

I know I don’t.

“The end of The Terror isn’t a sad end, nor is it a hopeful one.  It’s not even properly an end, because we know what comes next. What comes next? Well, we do.”

[fyrapartnersearch]

Back Again, Plots a Plenty

Ah, FYRA, hello. Back in January I had proudly bragged to a partner that I was done posting ads because I had all the writing I needed. Was I actually that naive or has 2020 actually been that long? Damn COVID. Anyway, my name is Chris, a dude in his late twenties with a lovely wife (that also uses this board for ads! Hey, Poe! I miss you!), two gorgeous animals that I love sharing pictures of, a comic book addiction and crazy ass job in a COVID19 ICU as a night nurse. Basically, the roleplay will *ALWAYS* be super medically accurate. I've been writing long enough that I list my skill as 'god damn professional' and post 2-3 times a week but am available for plotting and gushing over our line nearly around the clock. I can crank out anywhere from 4-16 paragraphs a reply, depending on the action and characters. I only write m/f (as the dude) and f/f. Always aiming to write in the long term.

I'm easy to reach! Either drop a line to me at Chrisx104@gmail.com or on Discord at NurseBatman#3674. I'm also on Gchat and skype at Chrisx104 if anyone still uses those dinosaur messengers. Anyway, onto plots, originals first and then fandoms. Original

Political Intrigue, m/f

A male US congressman with an image as a family man plans to make a jump to the senate and hires a young and savvy woman to be his campaign manager. One thing leads to another on the road and the two begin a secret relationship that revolves around garnering more political power. This line is heavily influenced by my love of House of Cards and could involve sabotage, murder, black mail, etc. Definitely a line that I could envision lasting a few 'seasons'.

Lost in America, m/f & f/f

A piece set in 1970s, my favorite era of time. A group of teenagers, most of which have recently graduated from High School, decide to leave their sleepy little east coast town behind for a new life out in California. Loading up into a VW Bus and blaring some music that would eventually be deemed 'classic rock', they had out on their adventure. I'm envisioning a cast from 4-7 and will HAPPILY throw in some horror elements into this line.

The Social Media Age, m/f

A successful but relatively down to Earth guy runs across a beautiful woman that he immediately begins chatting up, unaware of her world wide following as a social media influencer due to his utter disconnect from various platforms of social media. She's intrigued by the fact that he isn't a part of her world and the two hit it off. We can develop it further from there but I have a ton of ideas. I sort of envision this line as an *EPIC* romance line, with the possibility to write in a thousand fun locations across the world.

A Detective Story, F/F

Twin teenagers are murdered and two female detectives are kicked the case. I'm really wide open on this one, in regards to the setting and if there's a relationship between the two detectives previously or not. This is just heavily influenced by my love of True Detective.

The Fight Life

This one is a bit of a longshot because I'm definitely looking for someone with some knowledge in regards to MMA/UFC, my personal favorite sport. I'd love to find someone interested in writing a female MMA fighter that is just breaking into the big leagues. I have a bit of a supporting cast in mind to build around her (Coach, best friend, and a love interest) left over from when I couldn't get this line off the ground previously due to a partner's chronic ADD. This line would include getting to write some pretty batshit crazy fight scenes.  If you're interested but don't know anything about MMA, I am a willing, willing tutor.

FANDOMs

DC Comics

I would definitely just love to write an original continuity Batman against an original continuity Catwoman. We can pick the circumstances of their meeting/reunion (adding in knowing each other when they were younger) and what sort of Gotham we want to write in. I have a lot of experience writing Bruce but have never gotten to do this pairing much.

Marvel Comics

PLEASE, I so badly want to write Peter Parker. I have read comics for a hundred damn years and have never really gotten to write the Spectacular Spider-man and really, really want to. Unfortunately, most of his love interests are sort of lame, Black Cat/Felicia Hardy notwithstanding. If anyone would be interested in writing these two, I'd love to do it quasi MCU adjacent, with Peter at college when he meets Felicia before later encountering (unknowingly) encountering her as Black Cat.

Crossover Comics

I love writing John Constantine and he's one of my favorites to write. I'd love to find someone interested in writing Wanda/Scarlet Witch since the MCU has never really touched on the magic aspect of her powers and give her a drunken Yoda to deal with and channel her obscene amount of power.

The Matrix 

An old fandom that I wrote years ago but one with a lot of original potential for fun. Maybe something with the next anomaly or just a crew working to ease humans out of the matrix after the films. Idk.  Dead Like Me

An old show I loved. What could be more fun than writing an original group of grim reapers as they navigate their own death and escort the recently deceased onto the next life while still trapped in this plane.

Harry Potter

Buddy cop aurors. That's all I got. I hope something in this ad caught someone's attention. Message me or email me and let's create something awesome together!

[thenameofthewind-documents]

A LITERARY CRITICISM ESSAY

The Name of The Wind, A Feminist Literary Criticism

Patrick Rothfuss provides readers an intriguing high fantasy world in his debut novel, The Name of the Wind. The book is full of intellectual battle, demons and a numberless list of characters. Which was why, it was all the more disappointing when an author who writes like picasso paints couldn’t seem to handle any of his female characters properly. Instead of well developed heroines that the fantasy genre demands the closest the audience is shown is a woman, Denna, who seems to be written closer to that of a butterfly than a woman. The Name of the Wind is a beautifully written book about the struggles of poverty, loss of family, and loss of purpose with the underlying tone of good versus evil but lacks female characters, female characters development and female characters with strong personalities. In The Name of the Wind, females characters are unfortunately not characters they’re concepts and this is where the highly praised fantasy novel fails.

    When reading through The Name of The Wind it becomes glaringly apparent that female characters are being used as foil characters for Kvothe to appear more noble then his rival, Ambrose or appear more powerful. The author’s intention probably was as harmless as wanting to showcase the protagonists wit and quick thinking, unfortunately the way he choose to do so made his female characters become objectified and only there to serve a purpose for the male characters. This is seen directly with Fela. Kvothe witness her being hit on by Ambrose, his advances are clearly unwanted and Kvothe steps in to ‘save’ her. He does this by interrupting the conversation while Fela sits there “ashamed by her predicament” (page 311). Kvothe is obviously angry about this, but Rothfuss chooses for Kvothe to verbal combat Ambrose, “God’s body, this isn’t a brothel, in case you haven’t notice, she’s a student not some brass nail you’ve paid to bang away at. If you’re going to force yourself on a woman, have the decency to do it in an alleyway. At least then she’d be justified screaming about it.” (page 312). That’s the most witty thing Kvothe could’ve said? A passage that implies sexual assault is okay because it’s out of sight? Prostitutes (which the audience later find out is one of limited ways girls can support themselves financially) are literally referred to as objects. Kvothe was supposed to appear more knightly then Ambrose but in reality all the author communicates was that some women are less than other depending on their sexual activities.  Fela only appears in the book again when aiding Kvothe in the Archives or when she needs to be saved. Kvothe saves her from a fire, and then she offers to give him sexual favours in return. This interaction does nothing to further Fela’s 5character and only serves Kvothe and the author's intention of him being the hero of our story. In the end that’s all there ever was to Fela’s character. She’s pretty, nice and always there for Kvothe to save to highlight how kind, brave or handsome he is. The message is also seen in Denna, she’s barely a main character, mustly flutters in and out of Kvothe’s life and always shows up on the arms of different men. The author explains this is because of the world building. Women are put into very traditional gender roles, and because of this, they don’t have a lot of options for ways to financially survive in this type of world. In result she’s always is appearing with other men. Once again the author’s intention was probably to highlight Kvothe’s battle with poverty, not having the financial means to support Denna. However, once again the message is distorted and Denna (and women in large) are sexualized. The message the audience receives becomes that women are only worth what they can do for men. Tragically Denna and Fela are just two female characters whose only purpose is to serve Kvothe’s character development.

     The theme of the novel is undoubtedly knowledge is power. Rothfuss communicates this through his plot conflicts. Kvothe always finds a way to talk or reason his way out of a hopeless situation. The characters that are most intelligent are put into a positive spotlight through admiration of the author’s tone. These characters always outshine the character which they face. What does this mean for female characters? With female characters Rothfuss uses intelligence to highlight the ‘better’ female characters and the female characters that get the most development. Most of the female characters in Rothfuss’s novel are pretty and flirtatious. However, the female characters that get the most development are the ones that are clever: Devi, Denna and Auri. Devi is a loan shark who use to attend the University. She is one of the only female characters to have other plot purposes other than to highlight Kvothe’s talents. Devi is probably the best written female character but she is a minor one, only appearing in the University arch of the book. Denna is Kvothe’s main love interest and is also cunning and intelligent, she matches Kvothe’s wordplay, street smarts and people skills. However, she is never given any plot purposes other than to survive (go from man to man) or to be Kvothe’s love interest. In the ending conflict there is an action scene but we never find out how she would have responded because she ends up passed out and relient on Kvothe to save the day. Auri used to be a university student who went insane from the use of Sympathy (magic), she is never described as pretty and is Kvothe’s only friend who is a girl. Once again she doesn’t really get her own story, only that she knows mysterious things about the University and shows them to Kvothe (that’s her plot purpose). The point is this, there are only three female characters in a novel with 722 pages that are written as intelligent, two of them are minor and one is as much as a main character as a female can be in this book. It is an insulting amount compared to all the intelligent male characters in the book: Ben, Kvothe’s father, Kvothe, Skarpi, Kilvin, Arwyl, Lorren, Elodin, etc. Some of these male characters are minor but also have stronger personality traits and goals that go beyond Kvothe. There are no female masters out of the nine that have political control over the University. Once again, Rothfuss sends a negative message; girls in general are not smart, therefore, aren’t powerful. This problem is linked directly from the mistake of making the world have such rigid traditional gender norms without allowing a subplot (at least) for female characters to defy those set norms as well as having one of the only girls at the University (Fela) be used by the author to enhance Kvothe’s character.

If you want to know what an author wants to communicate you should have to look no further than the language and tone in which they use. The language Rothfuss uses towards women in his book is abysmal. The readers needn’t look further than the first one hundred pages into the novel to realize there is a problem with how Rothfuss handles his females characters. The first example is an exchange between Kvothe’s father, mother, and Ben (Kvothe’s mentor). ‘“That’s a clever wife you’ve got there, Arl.” Ben spoke up, breaking the tension, “How much do you sell her for?” “I need her for work, unfortunately. But if you’re interested in a short-term rental, I’m sure we could arrange a reas-” There was a fleshy thump followed by a slightly pained chortle in my father’s Baritone.’ (page 92). The dialogue was supposed to inflict a humorous tone into the scene but this fails and only shows that the world in which they live women serve and are owned by men. They would serve a purpose if a subplot came into play, or a female character, that defied these attitudes but there isn’t. Therefore, it become an issue of the author writing women only to serve men. Rothfuss uses Kvothe's father to speak about women’s hands. “He gets them from his mother, delicate but strong. Perfect for scrubbing pots, eh woman?” (Page 94). What’s more telling is that Kvothe’s mother never reacts negatively to any of sexist quirks he makes, she just takes them in good humor. This type of flowery adjectives like delicate will be a continued theme throughout the book when it comes to girls. As well as a priority of appearance over development put into female characters. The final example, is how Kvothe talks about Denna. “As with all truly wild things, care is necessary in approaching them. Stealth is useless. Wild things recognize stealth for what it is, a lie and a trap. While wild things play games of stealth, and in doing so may even occasionally fall prey to stealth, they are never truly caught by it. So. With slow care rather than stealth we must approach the subject of a certain woman. Her wildness is of such degree, I fear approaching her too quickly even in a story. Should I move recklessly, I might startle even the idea of her into sudden flight.” If it wasn’t crystal clear before, it is now that Rothfuss writes his females character like they are two dimensional. The only thing giving them presents in the book is their interactions and appearances. Other than that, they are just aesthetic pleasing pictures to look at, concepts that he likes the idea of being in the story. Denna is implied to be a ‘wild thing.’ She is not a person, she is a thing. In the end, Rothfuss clearly uses sexist implication and objectification when writing his female characters.

    In conclusion, Rothfuss fails as much as you can fail to write his female characters. They were two dimensional and observed, owned, and treated like objects in the thoughts, action and interaction with their male counterparts. Women are never given the opportunity to break the economic, social or political glass ceiling that exists in the high fantasy world. They are simply satisfied to have men in more powerful positions of society save them.They have no plot purpose other than to serve a foil character to Kvothe. The author through a lack of careless foresight, communicates dangerous messages for his wide audience to consume. Females not being powerful, always beautiful, always grateful for a man to save them, always kind and always helpless. These females character aren’t characters, they don’t have developed enough personalities to have flaws, they aren’t even developed enough to be called cookie cutter characters, they are simply an idea of what a female character is. The female characters in The Name of the Wind are undeveloped, missing personality traits and opportunities for character development while the audience experiences them through sexist language and objectification.

[jmhwritesstuff]

Writer Ask

(I wasn’t tagged or anything, but I was bored and felt like rambling a little, so I just answered the whole list.)

What age-group do you write?

Mostly YA, but I occasionally border into adult.

What genre do you write?

Fantasy is my go-to, but I’ve dabbled in Contemporary, Horror, and Sci-fi from time to time over the years.

Do you outline according to big ideas or small details?

I’m not great at outlining, but if there’s ever anything (big or small) that I feel the need to write notes on, then I’ll do a little brainstorming so I have a document on hand if I need it.

Which do you prefer–line-editing or plot-revisions?

Plot revisions. It’s frustrating as hell, but I like to make sure everything is as it should be for the purpose of the story.

Do you write better with or without deadlines?

Neither, honestly. Deadlines don’t compel me to get things done, they just stress me out, and no deadlines also stress me out because … it just gives me more reason not to do anything, and then I just feel really bad about it, which makes me not want to do it more. It’s a never ending cycle that I desperately need to break.

What would be the biggest compliment you could hope to receive on your current WIP?

That it’s actually interesting enough to keep readers wanting more.

How long is your current WIP?

It’s still sitting at 40k, but right now I’m abandoning it for something new which is still in the planning stages.

What author would you be most excited to be compared to?

I have no idea. I guess any of the most well-known YA writers.

What do you struggle most with as a writer?

Consistency. I’m forever fighting with myself to get more words down and finish something.

Do you brain-storm story ideas alone or with others?

Mostly alone. Sometimes I have a friend who likes to bounce ideas around with me, but writing has always been such a lonely thing for me.

Do you base your characters off of real people?

Not really. I did it once, but now that I’m rewriting that particular novel, the characters have become their own people.

Is your writing space clean or cluttered?

A bit of both. I like to be organised but there’s not much room, so I just make do.

Do you write character-driven or plot-driven stories?

I think I always fall on the character-driven side. I try to focus more on plot when it’s necessary but it never feels good enough to me, so that’s pretty difficult.

Do you have a favorite writing-related quote?

Something about shovelling sand into a box to later make sandcastles? I don’t know. I’ve seen so many quotes about writing, but not many stand out.

If you transport your original characters into another author’s world, which world would you choose?

I’d like to see them in Throne of Glass. I think giving over my characters to SJM would be a fangirl moment for me, just to see what she would do with them.

Would your story work better as a movie or tv show? Why?

That’s hard to say. Freefall would probably be a movie. But the world of The Divine … maybe a show. 

Do you make soundtracks for each story?

I’ve started to! I create playlists on Spotify for them.

If you could assign your story one song, what would it be?

When the Sun Goes Down - Tommee Profitt

Would you rather live in your characters’ world, or have your characters come live in our world?

Characters’ world. I wouldn’t want them to be ordinary.

What book would you love to see adapted for the big or small screen?

I don’t know. I’m open to any - my biggest gripe with most book-to-movie is the production teams behind them. It’s gotta be right. Stop messing with cheap production value on Fantasy.

Do you finish most of the stories you start?

Nope!

Has your own writing ever made you cry?

Yes. 

Are you proud or anxious to show off your writing?

Neither, I guess. I like to show my stuff once I consider it a decent standard, and then I enjoy gaining feedback just to see if there’s anything I never considered or maybe missed.

When did you start considering yourself a writer?

Probably when I was around 17. I was writing a bunch of teen drama drabbles and got a lot of readers/likes/comments. That was when I think I really started to consider trying to make some kind of career out of it.

What books are must-reads in your genre?

Stuff by Brandon Sanderson, Brent Weeks, Sarah J Maas, Laini Taylor. So, like, Throne of Glass, Mistborn, Daughter of Smoke and Bone, and The Black Prism. There’s honestly so many, just scour goodreads and dive in.

What would you like to see more of in your genre?

Can I go with less? Like, don't get me wrong, Fantasy is my favourite genre, but the political intrigue part can get really heavy, and really drawn out, really fast. It’s my least favourite part about Fantasy, but unfortunately is a massive convention of that genre. Also, I think I clearly need to read more Fantasy that’s a bit more gruelling - I’ve read so many books that came so close to being dark and tragic, and then shies away from it to make way for happy endings. And Happily Ever Babies. No thank you. 

Where do you get inspiration from?

I used to get it from other books, movies, and video games. At this point in time, though … I’m not entirely sure.

On a scale of 1-10, how much do you stress about choosing character names?

Not at all, really. If I don’t think of a name right away that I feel fits the character, then I give them a placeholder name until I find the right one.

Do you tend to underwrite or overwrite in a first draft?

Probably underwrite. Maybe even half and half.

Does writing calm you down or stress you out?

Mostly calms me down, depending on how much pressure I’m feeling that day.

What trope do you actually like?

Friends to lovers. Cold guy with violence in his veins actually has a soft heart. The Chosen One.  Parents are conveniently absent. Slow burn. Protagonist has to die to save the day (but actually die). 

That’s just off the top of my head. I’m okay with most tropes to be honest.

Do you give your side-characters extensive backstories?

I never used to, but I’m starting to build on that more these days.

Do you flesh-out characters before you write, or let their personalities develop over time?

I write down the basics such as appearance and/or particular quirks or personality traits. But most of the time, the personalities develop on their own, and a lot of what I originally intended them to be doesn’t work out.

Describe your old writing in one word.

Amateur. 

Is it more fun to write villains or heroes?

I really enjoy writing heroes - I love giving them their darkest moments and their epic comebacks. 

Do you write with a black and white sense of morality?

No.

What’s one piece of advice you would give to new writers?

Write what you want and take every single piece of writing advice with a grain of salt. Not everything you read or try to make your writing better will work for you, so find what does, and don't worry about what everyone else is doing.

What’s one piece of writing advice you try–but fail–to follow?

Set a wordcount goal every day and stick to it in order to form a better and consistent writing habit. I’ve tried and failed this countless times.

How important is positive reinforcement to you as a writer?

Personally, I don’t know. I think it’s important to know the difference between criticism and constructive criticism, though, and that you don’t have to make the changes suggested by others to what you’ve written or where you intend to go with the story.

What would you ask your favorite author if given one question?

How the hell do you do it?

Do you find it distracting to read while you’re writing a first draft?

Not at all. I actually think it helps me a lot.

Do critiques motivate or discourage you?

It’s subjective, unfortunately. Sometimes it’s helpful, and sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes you get feedback from someone who knows what they’re talking about, and sometimes you get utter nonsense. So … learn the difference.

Do you tend to write protagonists like yourself or unlike yourself?

There’s definitely some amount of myself reflected in them. I learnt that while studying self-reflection in prose at university a few years ago. 

Our class basically had to sit around a table and discuss personal process within our writing and what messages we think we might be trying to convey within our work. It soon moved on to whether or not we imagine ourselves as the protagonists (because that’s a popular writer stereotype) in our stories. Most of our answers were ‘no’, but most of us did discover a lot of links between the two.

For instance, the majority of my protagonists have always been orphans. No parents, no siblings. I didn’t grow up without a family or siblings, but my familial relationships have always been super strained my whole life. Instead of trying to write positive familial relationships, it was easier to cut them out entirely and replace it with the Found Family trope instead. 

How do you decide what story idea to work on?

Whichever one has been running around my head the most at the time is usually the one I end up getting the itch to write.

Do you find it harder or easier to write when you’re stressed out?

Harder.

What Hogwarts house would your protagonist(s) be in?

I don’t know, and I don’t care.

Where do you see yourself as a writer in five years?

Nowhere. And that’s not trying to be self-deprecating. I’m literally struggling to hold on to my passion for it lately. You know how most writers imagine seeing their book on a shelf someday? I don’t get that. Not anymore. Or at least not at this point in time.

Would you ever co-write?

I would! It would depend on a few things, but I like the thought of it.

Are you a fast and rushed writer or a slow and deliberate writer?

Slow and deliberate. I’d like to be fast, but it’s just not in me.

Would you rather be remembered for your fantastic world-building or your lifelike characters?

I don’t know. Characters, probably.

[recentanimenews]

Find a Fresh Start in Life is Strange 2, Episode One: Roads

There’s a moment towards the end of Life is Strange 2’s first episode that perfectly exemplified the sequel’s direction. After a particularly stressful sequence, one of the few friendly faces I’d found pulled me aside for some encouragement. “The past is the past,” he says, quite literally gesturing toward the remnants of my time spent in the first game. Of course, he doesn’t know what happened in Arcadia Bay, nor does Sean Diaz, Life is Strange’s new protagonist. I know, though, and Dontnod knows too. It’s a clear message both for those who played Life is Strange and those who didn’t. It’s time to leave Arcadia Bay behind. Set your sights on Puerto Lobos.

The first Life is Strange released over the course of 2015 as a five-part episodic adventure series. Set in a coastal town in rural Oregon, it followed a high schooler named Max Caulfield who awakens the ability to rewind time. After using her power to save the life of an old friend, the two begin searching for a missing person. The game made waves for its tackling of heavy issues such as bullying, suicide, coming out, and sexual abuse within its coming-of-age drama framework.

    I’m a big fan of the first game, but was apprehensive when a sequel was announced. To me, the first game’s story was already as complete as it needed to be. Luckily, Dontnod felt the same way and promised that Life is Strange 2 would be something completely new. After playing the first episode (simply titled Roads), I can assure you that they’ve kept their promise.

Life is Strange 2 centers around Sean and Daniel Diaz, a pair of brothers whose quiet life at home with their dad is suddenly and violently taken from them. On their own and on the run, they decide to make the long trek from the Seattle suburbs to their father’s childhood home in Puerto Lobos, Mexico. While their journey in Roads has only just begun, their story will supposedly take place over the course of an entire year as they cross the American countryside in search of a new place to call home.

  In many ways, it’s the same Life is Strange you already know and love. Aesthetically, it’s identical to the first. Effects such as wind, fire, and running water are once again animated in 2D to charming effect. Character models are rendered in the same plastic-looking style as before,and facial animations are as stiff as ever as a result. Limited facial expressions that couldn’t keep up with the voiceover work undercut more than a few of the episode’s more emotional scenes. It’s the one glaring flaw in the way this game looks, which is normally gorgeous. Much of the episode is spent in a beautiful autumn forest environment that I couldn’t help but take screenshot after screenshot of. Expect to find plenty of opportunities to sit down, listen to the soundtrack, and gaze at shot after shot of all the lovely scenery.

Speaking of the soundtrack, Life is Strange 2 features another well-curated selection of licensed songs. I have this game to blame for me listening to Phoenix’s “Lisztomania” more lately than I have in years. While I do love these licensed soundtracks and believe they add a lot to the Life is Strange experience, they give me concern over the series’s longevity. Recently, Grand Theft Auto IV had to patch out licensed selections of its soundtrack, and the Alan Wake series had to be removed from storefronts altogether due to expiring music licenses. I noticed that Life is Strange 2 has an option to turn off licensed songs, which I hoped meant would replace them with originals. Unfortunately, all it does is mute the music altogether. It’s a good feature for streamers and let’s players who need to avoid copyright takedowns on their videos, but I worry about what happens when the licenses expire. Will anyone who picks up this game a decade from now have to settle with stark silence where a poppy intro used to be? It’s not quite a knock against Life is Strange 2, but it does make me wonder.

    The gameplay of Life is Strange 2 is where it begins to diverge from its predecessor. You are still walking around environments in third person picking up and reading as many objects as you can, but the original’s time rewind ability is absent. This is to be expected, of course, but unfortunately there’s no actual replacement for it. This time around the playable character doesn’t have any powers whatsoever. Before, Max’s rewind ability gave her a variety of time manipulation puzzles to play with and the ability to change dialogue choices over the course of the game. Failing puzzles got characters hurt or killed, and I found myself hitting a few game over screens I needed to rewind out of and start over. If the first episode of Life is Strange 2 had any failable moments, I never found them.

While not being able to play with any fun powers is a bit disappointing, Life is Strange 2 does bring something new to the table: your brother Daniel. As Daniel’s caretaker, everything Sean says and does influences him in one way or another. By the end of the episode I had already felt the consequences of some of my decisions, and Dontnod promises that early actions will only continue to influence him as the story progresses. Moral choices are nothing new these days, but what I found interesting is how many of my little choices seemed to affect Daniel. Being a rather energetic child, his curiosity had him drifting around every scene looking for any way to occupy himself. Sean had plenty of opportunities to bond with Daniel in these scenes or to leave him be and attend to chores such as shopping or setting up camp. All of these interactions contributed to Daniel’s hunger, exhaustion, security, dependence, and overall bond with Sean, which further affect his behavior from scene to scene.

  I tend to play games like Life is Strange with a compulsive need to see every single thing I can, but Daniel’s inclusion in the game changed all of that. While he never ran off and got into trouble, I was always worried he might and stuck close by. I pestered him to go to the bathroom whenever I found one. I refused to even look at toys for the flavor text because I was strapped for cash and didn’t want Daniel to hope I’[d buy one for him. He whines, but he genuinely wants to help. He complains, but only because he doesn’t understand what’s happening. He lashes out at Sean, but his love for his brother is apparent. His behavior felt believable, and I quickly found myself sinking into my role as his protective older brother.

Finally, Life is Strange 2 diverges from the first game most notably with its story and subject matter. There’s no missing person to find, no bullying ring to take down, and no town to save from disaster. There’s no mystery here, only an adventure. This is a story about a pair of brothers on the run. It’s the relationship between these brothers that drives the story forward this time, rather than the intrigue of a good mystery. The story as a whole is massively elevated by the strength of its dialogue, which is an incredibly funny thing to think for a game called Life is Strange. The first game’s attempt at writing ‘teen’ dialogue was charmingly out-of-touch, so it’s surprising to hear the teens in this game talking like actual teens. Unfortunately, the delivery often leaves something to be desired. Many of the line readings -- particularly from Daniel -- sounded rather stilted compared to the first game’s pretty solid dubbing.

It’s also worth noting that this game is more overtly political than the last. The first moments of the episode are dated October 28, 2016, and why Dontnod set the game in 2016 instead of 2018 is immediately apparent: Sean and Daniel are the sons of a Mexican immigrant. Diving into Sean’s sketchbook reveals a reference to a recent debate on TV. “He’s not actually gonna win, right?” asks a friend of Sean over text message. Multiple references are made to building a wall, for crying out loud. The very incident that puts Sean and Daniel on the run could be ripped straight from the headlines these days. “Everything is political,” declares one character to another. It’s clear that Dontnod believes that, because this game is rife with it.

This is, of course, only a review of Life is Strange 2’s first episode. The story is far from over, so there are plenty of lingering questions. The big one is what role the supernatural will play in the story. While Sean doesn’t have any abilities, someone else does. I won’t spoil who or what kind of powers they are, but they play an important role in episode one - albeit a brief one. Whether or not they will be implemented into gameplay at all remains to be seen. I certainly hope so.

The other big question is how exactly Life is Strange 2 will link up to The Awesome Adventures of Captain Spirit, a free downloadable game meant to act as a prequel to Life is Strange 2. While Chris (aka Captain Spirit) doesn’t show up at all in the first episode, upon going back to his mini-story I found that not only is there a reference to the inciting incident in Life is Strange 2, but the previously unnamed characters Chris meets at the end are in fact Sean and Daniel. How they will link up remains to be seen, but I’m very excited to find out.

Despite all my little quibbles and qualms and comparisons to the first game, after finishing this episode, all I could think of was how good it was. It’s not the same Life is Strange as before, but I never wanted it to be. This story has already both impressed and broken my heart multiple times over. With Life is Strange 2, Dontnod is heading in the fresh direction the series deserves. I can’t wait to see more.

REVIEW ROUNDUP

+ Gorgeous visuals

+ Story that is as relevant as it is emotionally arresting

+ Accurate teen dialogue

+ Pleasantly curated and orchestrated soundtrack

+ Choices are more active than before

+/- No powers to mess around with, but taking care of Daniel adds an engaging layer to gameplay

- Disappointing absence of facial animation in key moments

- Some stilted line deliveries throughout

-----

Danni Wilmoth is a Features and Social Videos writer for Crunchyroll and also co-hosts the video game podcast Indiecent. You can find more words from her on Twitter @NanamisEgg.

By: news+feed@crunchyroll.com

[labbaik-ya-hussain-as]

A must read:

The Lost Jewel – Rediscovering Hazrat Imam Ali’s (A.S.) Letter

This is a fascinating story.

Pakistan’s premier female poet Fahmida Riaz, read a letter by Imam Ali (A.S.) while browsing through a translation of Nahaj ul Balagha. Today via email, she narrated how she was “so touched, and felt so angry for not knowing about it all my life, because really no one talks about the real jewels of Muslim history, they would rather conceal it from one generation after another”. She took notes from the ancient text and recently quoted it in her paper presented at an Urdu Conference held at Heidelberg, Germany.

On her current sojourn in the USA, she showed this text to Dr. Patricia Sharpe who was impressed enough to put it on her website under the title GOOD GOVERNANCE EARLY MUSLIM STYLE.

In her email Fahmida writes further that “Another American friend in Santa Fe is writing a book for the National Geographic about the achievements of Muslim thinkers and men of the sciences and letters. I showed him the text and he has asked me to forward it to him so that he may include it in his book. ‘The Americans should know about it ,’ he wrote. I have sent him the text, sighing to myself, “..and so should the Muslims”.

But really, what are we ever told about Islam or Muslims other than chopping of arms and killing of infidels? Or we are informed that Muslims once had a great empire, a brutal picture of conquest and subjugation of the so-called “infidels”. What do we know of Hazrat Imam Ali (A.S.) except that he was very brave with a legendary sword? Pretty little.

And writes Riaz: “here is this document, written by him,1500 or so years ago. The sheer beauty of his thought, the largesse of his great heart, the incredible refinement of his mind! It takes your breath away and brings tears to your eyes. And then, his understanding of the class structure of society.. long before anyone in the world paid attention to the composition of society! All this is so incredible.

The other ancient classics about governance that come to mind…. tell you how to invite your enemy to dinner and then stab him in the back. They tell you how to perpetuate your RULE. In comparison, Imam Ali (A.S.) is telling you how to create a State that provides the greatest opportunity for the people to be happy. So great was this man that even being remotely associated with him is an honour that we hardly deserve though we are all born in the fold of his faith.

Another thought that comes to haunt you: Hazrat Imam Ali (A.S.) was so close to the Holy Prophet (S.A.W) that he could never say what he did not believe to be the Holy Prophet's (S.A.W) own will? O my God! Then in what unworthy hands his teachings fell! How unfortunate it is for us.”

I wanted to share this excitment and sadness of Fahmida on this space.

Here is the entry in Patricia’s blog where she has reproduced sections of letter and also improved the translations available online:

George W. Bush seems to think that the US political system must be replicated in structure and spirit in order for people to enjoy a decent political system. In fact, the Muslim world also has traditions and texts which establish the principles of good governance. Below are quotes from one such document, a document that might profitably be added to all basic political science syllabi. A close reading might also provide insights and terminology for American public diplomats tasked to engage Muslims in a dialogue about the universal human interest in fair, honest and competent government.

Ali bin Abi Talib (A.S.) Wali-Allah, the First Imam and son-in-law of the Holy Prophet Mohammed Mustafa (S.A.W), wrote a long letter of guidance after appointing Maalik al-Ashtar to be Governor of Egypt. He advises the new governor that his administration will succeed only if he governs with concern for justice, equity, probity and the prosperity of all.

The passages excerpted below illustrate the timeless applicability of Imam Ali’s (A.S.) admonitions. The letter itself is contained in the Nahjal Balaagha, which is a collection of the letters and speeches of the First Imam.

Manifest religious tolerance: Amongst your subjects there are two kinds of people: those who have the same religion as you [and] are brothers to you, and those who have religions other than yours, [who] are human beings like you. Men of either category suffer from the same weaknesses and disabilities that human beings are inclined to; they commit sins, indulge in vices either intentionally or foolishly and unintentionally without realizing the enormity of their deeds. Let your mercy and compassion come to their rescue and help in the same way and to the same extent that you expect Allah to show mercy and forgiveness to you.

Equity is best: A policy which is based on equity will be largely appreciated. Remember that the displeasure of common men, the have-nots and the depressed persons overbalances the approval of important persons, while

the displeasure of a few big people will be excused…if the general public and the masses of your subjects are happy with you.

The rich always want more: They are the people who will be the worst drag upon you during your moments of peace and happiness, and the least useful to you during your hours of need and adversity. They hate justice the most. They will keep demanding more and more out of State resources and will seldom be satisfied with what they receive and will never be obliged for the favor shown to them if their demands are justifiably refused.

A healthy society is interdependent: The army and the common men who pay taxes are two important classes, but in a well faring state their well-being cannot be guaranteed without proper functioning and preservation of the other classes, the judges and magistrates, the secretaries of the State and the officers of various departments who collect various revenues, maintain law and order as well as preserve peace and amity among the diverse classes of the society. They also guard the rights and privileges of the citizens and look to the performance of various duties by individuals and classes. And the prosperity of this whole set-up depends upon the traders and industrialists. They act as a medium between the consumers and suppliers. They collect the requirements of society. They exert to provide goods….Then comes the class of the poor and the disabled persons. It is absolutely necessary that they should be looked after, helped and provided….at least the minimum necessities for well-being and contented living….

Ensure an honest judiciary: You must select people of excellent character and high caliber with meritorious records….When they realize that they have committed a mistake in judgement, they should not insist on it by trying to justify it….they should not be corrupt, covetous or greedy. They should not be satisfied with ordinary enquiry or scrutiny of a case but…must attach the greatest importance to reasoning, arguments and proofs. They should not get tired of lengthy discussions and arguments.Theymust exhibit patience and perseverance…and when truth is revealed to them they must pass their judgements….These appointments must be made…without any kind of favoritism being shown or influence being accepted; otherwise tyranny, corruption and misrule will reign….Let the judiciary be above every kind of executive pressure or influence, above fear or favour, intrigue or corruption.

Poverty leads to ruination: If a country is prosperous and if its people are well-to-do, then it will happily and willingly bear any burden. The poverty of the people is the actual cause of the devastation and ruination of a country and the main cause of the poverty of the people is the desire of its ruler and officers to amass wealth and possessions whether by fair or foul means.

Corruption undermines national well-being: I want to advise you about your businessmen and industrialists. Treat them well….They are the sources of wealth to the country….One more thing….you must keep an eye over their activities as well. You know that they are usually stingy misers, intensely self-centered and selfish, suffering from the obsession of grasping and accumulating wealth. They often hoard their goods to get more profit out of them by creating scarcity and by indulging in black-marketing.

Stay in touch with the people: You must take care not to cut yourself off from the public. Do not place a curtain of false prestige between you and those over whom you rule. Such pretension and shows of pomp and pride are in reality manifestations of inferiority complex and vanity. The result of such an attitude is that you remain ignorant of the conditions of your subjects and of the actual cases of the events occurring in the State.

Peace brings prosperity: If your enemy invites you to a peace treaty….,never refuse to accept such an offer, because peace will bring rest and comfort to your armies, will relieve you of anxieties and worries, and will bring prosperity and affluence to your people. But even after such treaties be very careful of the enemies and do not place too much confidence in their promises, because they often resort to peace treaties to deceive and delude you and take advantage of your negligence, carelessness and trust. At the same time, be very careful never to break your promise with your enemy; never forsake the protection or support that you have offered to him, never go back upon your word and never violate the terms of the treaty.

History reveals all: Do not reserve for yourself anything which is a common property of all and in which others have equal rights. Do not close your eyes from glaring malpractice of officers, miscarriage of justice and misuse of rights, because you will be held responsible for the wrong thus done to others. In the near future your wrong practices and maladministration will be exposed and you will be held responsible and punished for the wrong done to the helpless and oppressed people.

*The honorific changes, depending on whether the reference derives from the Shia or Sunni tradition. Note also that I changed British spelling to American, have modified some awkwardnesses common to translations into English and have altered some punctuation for clarity’s sake.

Pingback: The Lost Jewel - Rediscovering Hazrat Ali’s (A.S.) Letter « Jahane Rumi

[shiroe-is-my-baby]

Lucky in Love

Summary: Royalty AU where Shiroe is a prince and I am his soon to be princess. Two dorks trying to be sophisticated and royal, count me in! Not sure if I’ll write more for this, but I liked it a lot!

W: self-insert, fluff, au

The smile lingering on my face was one I had learned to keep in situations like this. It’s neither stale nor too happy. It’s the perfect amount of polite, without being overly excited. It’s something that may not be completely real depending on my mood. Mainly because I’d much rather be outside, gazing at the stars without too many worries. But, unfortunately, my responsibility lies here.

Today was the announcement of my marriage. One that I have, honestly, been dreading for as long as I can remember. Not because I was indifferent to the idea of marriage as I whole. I knew that it was my responsibility as future queen to find a suitable match. One that would bring the kingdom promise. I was merely afraid that the person whom I would be arranged with would not fit me.

My father and mother had been lucky enough to marry, so far as I’ve been told as in love as ever. It’s too often that I hear stories of kings and queens having husbands and wives who had not been entirely of their choosing or want. But that’s not something that we talk about too often. Everyone knows the obligations set up for the royal.

I breathed a soft sigh, gazing up at my parents speaking to a few visitors. This afternoon we threw a little engagement party, and in a few days will be the wedding. They seemed excited, more so with the caliber of the man that I have chosen. I’ve met many sutors in the past that haven'tseemed to match. Many were too arrogant, clearly out for my families fortune rather than my hand. Although, that’s to be expected.

Our kingdom is fairly large, though definitely not the largest. We are, in fact, one of the few kingdoms who respect the art of magic and knowledge. We’re not advanced, but we are more advanced than many. This can bring controversy, but in the recent age of change, it’s faint. Since we are growing and expanding, bringing all kinds of travelers, this brings great wealth. Which, in turn, brings both good and bad.

One of those being traitors and thieves.

I was lucky enough to find someone who was not out for my wealth, but for more of my heart.

He was not only kind, but he was also not too far below us in stature. His kingdom was smaller, of course, but the charmingness of it did no go unnoticed. His kingdom was one of the firsts to welcome a mage into their military. Where as things of this nature, every where else, would be frowned upon. But today, especially in our kingdom, the thought isn’t so far fetched.

The way we met was rather adorable, actually.

He was visiting the kingdom to potentially sign a trade deal with my father. Something to help bring not only more supplies to them, but also help grow their economy. It was there that my father discovered just how smart this man, my future husband, was. He could sell dead cattle, as my father jokingly told me one afternoon.

When I ran into the strange prince, it was on his last day with us. He was exploring the garden, my father having wandered off to assist with something. I was there, tending to the flowers and chatting with one of my maids.

I remember the first time I saw him.

He looked nothing like I thought he would. My father had described him as slightly intimidating with piercing eyes that seemed to look almost a tad bit intense. He was right about that, but the minute I found myself looking into those eyes, I was lost in them. They pulled me in and intrigued me.

Not only that, but he was handsome. Truly.

He had a certain air around him that wasn’t too royal. In fact, he seemed rather calm and polite. He didn’t look at me like most of those suitors would. Although, he wasn’t here for that. I figured that’s why he was treating me differently, and that’s probably what helped make our relationship click.

He introduced himself to me, with that smile that seemed to make my heart flutter. I realized right off the bat that I did, in fact, like this man. I couldn’t act on it, of course, but I held onto that fact as he spoke. He told me his name, bowing slightly in way of respect. I couldn’t help but notice how utterly cute he was.

Shiroe was… everything that I never knew could be in a prince. He was intense and strong when he wanted to be, but also sweet and caring. He might have been the dorkiest prince I’ve ever seen. Sophistication was one of the things that he seemed to have only in sparing moments. Around me, those seemed to become more lax the more that we spent time together.

I showed him around the garden, bringing him to my own special spot. Since he’d be leaving, I figured it wouldn’t harm to be kind to him. Shiroe seemed to be more comfortable with me, as I did with him. We talked about my kingdom and his own, brushing up topics that weren’t too personal. Those conversations never seemed to last too long. Not before he and I were taking about other things.

Smiling at he memory, I could practically picture that night that he asked to stay a little longer. His cheeks were pink, eyes focused to the floor as he struggled to be the royal prince that he was. It was then that I realized he was interested in possibly wooing me. One thing that my father seemed eager about, given the information he had about their family.

Shiroe has become more to me than I ever thought. Our love was different. Even my mother noticed it almost immediately, telling me how special she thought that he was. My father gave his permission, and we were arranged to be married.

Now, here we are, gazing at our families that will once become one, watching the happy smiles and celebration of it all. We were lucky to find happiness. Shiroe and I knew that. It was obvious in our demeanor and the way that we acted. The two of us were different and our kingdoms allowed us to be just that.

I was looking forward to this new life with him.

In the middle of my thoughts, I hadn’t noticed the man in front of me. Not until he spoke up, that smile forming on his lips as he bowed to me. “Are you having fun, darling?” Shiroe asked, pulling my hand up to his lips for a kiss. I giggled softly, nodding rather quickly.

“I’m having a wonderful time. And you?”

“Your father is trying to introduce me to everyone. I didn’t take into account how large this would be,” He answered, looking up at the many people in the ballroom.

“It’s both of our families, love. Of course there’s bound to be lots of people attending.”

“I’m just not used to it, I suppose,” He said.

He turned back to me, giving me the little raise of his eyebrows I remembered all too well.

“Would you like to dance with me, my lady?”

I couldn’t help but blush at that mocking of a tone. He spoke less elegant when we were alone, but still respectful. It just always sounded strange coming from him. But I played along, leaning closer to him as I took his hand.

“I’d love to,” I said.

Shiroe smiled, pulling me forward and allowing me to lock my arms around his own.

The two of us had a show to put on for the guests. All of them were waiting for the couple’s first dance. Their eyes were ablaze with stars, excited for the happy smile of their future queen. I felt obligated to please, but I also wanted to be close to him.

A part of me couldn’t help but look forward to later tonight, after the party is over. I knew that he and I would sneak off to the garden, to the gazebo that was hidden behind a brush of trees. That same place that I took him on the day that we met. The one hidden spot that we go to when we want to forget for a while. The place that we can breathe and be in love.

A hidden world all to ourselves.

Where we’re not forced to be perfect.

We’re merely just ourselves. Deeply in love.

[watsonhealthproject]

A Little of a Lot a Bit Later Than Usual

Hello there and happy September :)

This post is overdue in that I have not written in over a week. That said, this is an especially long piece filled with stories from distinct experiences in and out of the hospital. I hope you enjoy!

Note: In many ways, a lot of my writing for this week is observational rather than reflectional. I give my input in some places but for the sake of not writing a novel, I am leaving the interpretation part up to you. Anecdotes are hardly ever representative but they offer us the opportunity to think critically about the circumstances that led to a particular event and its outcome. In that way, we can learn loads from anecdotes and I hope that you take the time to consider some of the implications of the stories I am sharing with you. 

I look crazy in this picture but it is an insider look at one of my rotations in the hospital (I don’t usually take pictures in the hospital because it feels so unnatural. Convincing myself to ask the doctor for this picture took a while). I learned all about nuclear medicine and in this particular instance, was posing in front of a treadmill that is used as a “stress test” prior to taking “pictures” of the heart.

Complications of Cancer Treatment in Ecuador 

**During a radiation oncology rotation, the doctor explained to me that in all of Ecuador, there are only 4 cities that have radiation oncology units. For those of you who are unfamiliar with this topic, radiation therapy is a treatment that is administered every weekday for a set amount of time (usually 5 to 8 weeks). The side effects vary depending on what part of your body receives the treatment. It is very important to note that this is an outpatient treatment, which means that the patient has to go to the hospital everyday but is not hospitalized. What does this mean? If you live outside of the 4 cities and radiation is part of your treatment, you have to travel everyday or find a place to live in one of the cities with the appropriate technology for the duration of your treatment. What happens if neither of these are options - you don’t receive the potentially life-saving treatment.

I heard two stories (of opposite extremes) related to this reality in Ecuador.

- A female patient in her mid-thirties was diagnosed with cervical cancer. She had two children and her husband left her shortly after the news of her diagnosis. Unfortunately, this patient lived 6 hours (via bus) from the closest radiation facility. She decided that it was more affordable to make the 12 hour trip to and from the hospital every day for the entire duration of her treatment (as opposed to finding temporary housing in the city). Since she did not have any familial support, she had no choice but to leave the kids home. It was a tragic situation for all involved parties.

- An elderly male patient (83 y.o) was diagnosed with cancer and had to receive radiation therapy. However, he could not travel alone and none of his children were able to take him to the hospital daily for reasons that were not explained. As a result, this patient simply did not get treatment. After the disease progressed, the family reached out to the hospital again to try and restart the radiation. While this may sound like good news, a more advanced cancer is a lot harder to treat and therefore, the prognosis is not as good as it was the first time radiation was presented as a possibility.

There were also stories between the extremes:

- Many patients stop going to radiation because it makes them feel worse than they had before they started or traveling to the hospital each day becomes too burdensome.

- Hospital runs out of medications that are used in conjunction to radiation therapy (for prostate cancer in particular) so unless the patient can buy them elsewhere, they have no choice but to remain unmedicated until the medicine becomes available at the hospital.

Why do these stories matter? Getting the news that you have cancer is a devastating thing in and of itself. We have tools to combat the disease but unfortunately, their lack of availability leaves already vulnerable people with impossible decisions. 

“Foro De Vacunas 2017″ 

I had the pleasure of attending a conference that was focused on pediatric vaccination strategies in Latin America, the progress of vaccination programs, challenges of implementation, and the continued importance of building a culture that prioritizes preventative medicine, and in this particular case, vaccinations. There was a lot of information that was passed on but here are a few things/ideas/points that stood out to me:

- There were representatives from the Ministry of Public Health present and when they spoke, it was very clear that the audience of medical professionals was skeptical of their performance. I even asked those around me why they were scolding and they told me that the presenters were lying and omitting important information. Specifically, those around me pointed out that a strategy is one thing and that the reality of implementation is another. The Ministry defended themselves saying that they are in a process of revitalization and that progress takes time. A doctor pointed out that it is non-sensical that the ministry develops, implements, and evaluates all of their programs internally. According to him, there should be an independent civilian and professional entity that assesses the progress of the ministry. 

- One doctor on a panel said “En vacuna no se gasta. Se invierte” (With vaccines, we do not spend, we invest). In my opinion, this doctor’s words reflect a particular way of thinking about how money is used to achieve public health goals - spend more now to save later. It is a preventative, long term, and forward-looking framework. This was in direct contrast to something another doctor explained: He argued that politicians are not always willing to approve vaccination programs (as well as other long term health projects) because the results are not realized within their political terms and therefore, do not necessarily serve their agendas. In this case, public health expenses and projects are contextualized within short-term and politicized frameworks that prioritize quick results over more fundamental, systematic changes.

- The relationship between climate change, infectious disease, and public health is huge. Among many other things, increasing temperatures have led mosquitos to reproduce in new and larger geographic areas. 

- “The lack of access to HPV vaccination, which helps prevent cervical cancer, for young latin american women is simply violence against women. It is unacceptable” - Paraphrased from a presenting doctor.

- This conference had a massive emphasis on the importance of data collection, analysis, and use. Epidemiological data was presented at the forefront. I absolutely agree that evidence-based methodologies are essential for effective public health programs. However, after my medical anthropology class last semester, I recognize that this science-centered rationalization of medicine is just one of many ways of understanding healthcare. The scientific evidence very clearly shows that vaccinations are a safe and effective means for reducing infectious disease and as a person who believes in the biomedical model of medicine, I am convinced that we need to continue improving national vaccination programs. However, for some people in the general public, depersonalized numbers have little meaning. They do not necessarily convince one to prioritize getting vaccinated. That said, I found the conference to be lacking in the discussion of cultural and educational factors that contribute to the challenges of vaccination program implementation. Just last week a doctor was explaining to me that people refused to go to the hospital in a town she worked in because it was a common belief that ‘the hospital kills.” In this community, a successful program would require a nuanced approach that takes into account the fear of biomedical institutions that has been passed down for many generations. As with most large scale programs, standards are important but uniformity is dangerous. 

- “Vaccines and vaccination are not the same thing. It is easy to buy vaccines and tons of money is already being invested in this endeavor. However, vaccinating an entire population is very difficult because it requires the consideration of many moving parts that are not always within the control of those tasked with implementing vaccination strategies.” - Paraphrased from a presenting doctor. 

Understanding Health Outcomes: Why Do Patients Stop Taking Prescribed Medications?

Here are some of the most common responses patients have given with regards to this question:

- Medication runs out (at home / at hospital / in town)

- Symptoms stop being burdensome so patient assumes medication is no longer necessary

- Side effects are too burdensome

- Patient never obtains medications (misunderstandings / financial restrictions)

- Patients take medication, but not as instructed

- Use of alternative medical remedies instead of prescribed medications

- Don’t understand the purpose or importance of taking a particular medication.

Chronic Disease Management: A topic of increasing interest

Marginalization, access, and healthcare are exceptionally broad topics. In creating a plan for my Watson year, I embraced this broadness as an opportunity to follow my interests and figure out where I fit in in the efforts to improve healthcare access for all. The more time I spend in Ecuador, the more I find myself perplexed and intrigued by the challenges of chronic disease management. Why? This is an issue for the institution of medicine that, based on my observations, is better equipped for the treatment of acute problems. At the same time, it is an issue for those affected because disease management often requires changes in one’s lifestyle that are often very difficult to make. That said, it seems like a topic area where innovation and leadership are very necessary (aka my middle names).  

Palliative Care:

I had the wonderful opportunity of spending some time at a foundation in Quito that focuses almost exclusively on providing palliative care services to terminally ill patients. Unlike the rest of medicine, palliative care is not intended to prolong life but rather, to improve the quality of it through medical, spiritual, and emotional support. Palliative care normalizes death and gives patients the opportunity to pass in a painless and dignified manner. To be honest, before I arrived I was afraid of the feelings that might strike me. In the end, I found that it is a deeply human specialty area. There are simply no other words to describe it.  

Rural(ish) Healthcare:

Exciting news! Thanks to a partnership with Manna Project International, I will have the opportunity to speak to community members (formally and informally) to learn more about their perspectives on the healthcare services available to them. This is a particularly exciting opportunity because what I learn will not only inform my own explorations but also, possibly contribute to the development of programs at Manna based on what community members say. With a little bit of help at home, I am developing a set of questions that I want to ask to guide some of the conversations I will be having. My first conversation will happen next week. Updates on how it goes are surely to come!

The very cute sign that welcomes all visitors into the hub of Manna Project International. 

An impressively bad picture of me on the bus home from my first of hopefully many trips to el Valle de los Chillos. 

Updates on My Life as a Dancer:

I am kind of obsessed and not really sure what to do or what to make of this. It is a little crazy because for most of my life, I could not imagine a life outside of medicine. However, somehow my love of dance runs so deep that I could picture, for the first time, another thing to which I could dedicate a substantial amount of my time to. This is not to say that I am calling it quits on becoming a doctor or that I even want to. Rather, it serves to show how much of an impact this particular activity has had on my sense of self.

I try to be really reflective about where my feelings come from. Is it simply the sense of community that draws me or is there something else? The more I think about it, the more I realize that music and dance are very tightly knit to my own sense of “latinidad.” How so? I was the child that refused to dance at family parties and had a significantly stronger affinity for all things “english.” I don’t think I really came to consider what being a latina meant to me until I got to college and for the first time, I was not surrounded by a million things “latino.” The first time I felt like an outsider at Bowdoin was not during orientation or in a class but in the dining hall, after spending a weekend away at a conference for dominican students. I realized my “otherness” as a student of color at Bowdoin and rather than feeling ashamed and trying to fit in more, I did the exact opposite. I started to more intentionally explore my “dominicanness” and a huge part of that took the form of music and dance. Therefore, dancing is not simply fun, it is the means through which I understand and explore what it means for me to be a young dominican-american woman. I understand my body to be a political statement and dance allows me to simultaneously engage with and convey the history of my ancestors. To the unknowing passerby, bachata may seem like just another sensual dance. However, as far as I am concerned, the intimacy with which bachata is associated goes beyond the dancing pair. I like to say that bachata is in my blood, and when I dance, I feel intimately connected to my family and our small country in the caribbean. I feel more whole and grounded. Dancing bachata makes me proud to be a Dominican. This is why I love it so much.

It would be naive to ignore the sexism and misogyny that is tightly interwoven into the culture of latino dance and music because there have been many moments, in my time in Ecuador alone, when I have found myself cringing. However, I will leave this topic for another time :) For now we can appreciate the positives.

Life Outside of the Medical Questions

Burger King in Ecuador <3 

I went to the disco with my dance group and it was loads of fun. When we got to the place, they refused to let me in because a NY driver’s permit is not considered valid identification. I was ready to go home after it was obvious that the guy wasn’t going to change his mind but then Yesi (the girl next to me) offered to go out of her way and drive me to and from home to pick up my passport. When I finally got inside, I was so happy because there were some amazing dancers everywhere (like doing tricks on the dance floor amazing!)

I finally managed to find decently priced books in spanish that I can read. When I finish this book, it will be the first novel I have ever read from start to finish in spanish! I wonder what I felt when I finished a book by myself for the first time. I am almost certain it was something similar to what I will feel when I get to the end of this novel.

The Challenges of this Nomadic Life

It makes me really sad to know that I have to leave eventually. When I went out with my dance friends, we were talking about going to Guayaquil (another city in Ecuador) for a dance conference of sorts. I was under the impression that the event they were talking about was at the end of September and so I was talking as if I was going to be in attendance. However, someone mentioned that it was in November and without thinking, I announced that I could not go. When the instructor looked at me with furrowed brows, I clarified that I would no longer be in Ecuador. His (exact) response was “Mariely no me haga esto” (Mariely don’t do this to me). There was a general pause and the moment passed quickly but it was so heartbreaking because it was a reminder of how temporary my time is here. 

If thinking about leaving is hard, it is even harder to think about having to start the process of making friends and integrating myself into the community all over again. Of course this constant change during the Watson experience is expected and comes with its rewards. However, I am not even leaving yet and it feels like “ahhhhh.” 

I digress because sometimes I think too far ahead in the future. Since I know my time is limited, it gives me all the more reason to live, love, and laugh with all of my heart and mind, to be at all times, fully in the present. 

Things to Look Forward To:

Conferences: I have managed to find a few medical conferences that are free and that address some of the things I am exploring and interested in. I have realized that FB events is a very useful resource! 

And of course, this post would not be complete without a quote for the week:

"Wherever you go becomes a part of you somehow.” - Anita Desai

[swordsandparasols]

Rebel, Saimdang, and the romanticization of class and nobility in sageuks

At this point, it’s actually a little sad that Saimdang: Light’s Diary and Rebel: Thief Who Stole the People are airing at the same time. Mind you, it’s not because one is easily one of the most hyped sageuks in years and isn’t performing well, while the other seems to have just been thrown out there as an afterthought and is pulling in good ratings, as well as better critical and popular response, it’s the content and themes. Personally speaking, I spent almost 2 years impatiently waiting for Saimdang, and was pretty sure it was going to be the best sageuk of the year when it did come out, something that I thought would hold true after watching the first two episodes. In contrast, Rebel was barely on my radar, and on my “watch now” list instead of “watch if people say good things while it airs” primarily because I liked Hwang Jin-Young’s previous sageuk (and only previous writing credit aside from a special) King’s Daughter Soo Baek Hyang. Halfway through their runs,Saimdang was moved to “I really like it but it could be better” status (with a lot of anger for how SBS execs screwed the show and LYA over, and now they’re taking their screwups out on the show, but I’m not going to dwell on that today) while Rebel has become the sageuk I just can’t see another sageuk surpassing it for a while. (Particularly since they all seem to at least partly center around the tropes and worldview that Rebel critiques.)

This requires some background. Saimdang and Dae Jang Geum, aka, one of the most iconic sageuks ever that also served to help solidify Lee Young Ae’s iconic status, take place at roughly the same time. This is something SBS is very aware of, and while it doesn’t have the endless DJG references we probably would have had if the show had aired on MBC, it very much tried t rely on DJG nostalgia to sell the show, and the sageuk plotline in Saimdang has much more in common with sageuks of a dozen years ago in terms of characterization, tone and pacing than anything from this decade. Unfortunately, people came for Lee Young Ae in a sageuk from this decade, not the first half of the last decade.

Now the ACTUAL background begins DJG is largely known in western fandom for helping in to make sageuks far more female-centric, and for helping to establish the basic formula that most of the popular and/or commercially successful “long and stuffy” sageuks have sageuks have followed since. The rest of this is partially hearsay, as I’m going by what others have told me about pre-DJG sageuks, as DJF is the second oldest I’ve seen. The oldest is Damo, a show that is less iconic than DJG, and that essentially created the formula for the genre that we consider to be fusion sageuks. (Depending on who you ask, DJG and it’s predecessor, Heo Joon, are also fusion sageuks, but they’re an entirely different kind of fusion sageuks and Damo and its successors.) Like DJG, Damo centered around a female lead in a plot that would typically feature a male lead. Both shows are also known for taking the focus away from the throneroom. DJG is still a palace intrigue drama, while Damo steps away from the palace completely, focusing instead on police officers investigating a rebellion, though it does check in with the palace intrigue. But in stepping away from the throneroom and inner palace intrigues, both did something most sageuks avoided: they tackled the issue of class. Both shows featured a heroine of noble birth-Chae Ok, the heroine of Damo was a young noblewoman who became a slave as a child after her father was accused of treason, while Jang Geum’s parents both went into hiding as commoners before she was born, though for different reasons. From what I’ve been told, prior to these two, the main audience for sageuks was middle aged men, and because of this, the focus was almost exclusively on war and palace politics, usually featuring, well, middleaged men. Then, in 2003, there was suddenly a spurt of several successful series featuring female leads. They certainly weren’t the first to do so, it just worked out so that there was a concentration of several at once. Part of what made DJG and Damo stand out was that they were meant to appeal to a wider audience, had higher production values, sweeping (and very different) romances, and broader plots (I mean it wasn’t JUST “maybe our ratings will go up if we try to appeal to women,” but that was certainly a part of it). But they also stood out because the positioning of their heroines-one being made a slave and the other growing up as a commoner-meant that these stories weren’t only about the nobility. The servant class in the city featured heavily in DJG, while rural commoners and their perspective of civil unrest and the nobility featured heavily in Damo. Of course, ultimately, both heroines and their love interests WERE of the nobility, but the door to including the perspectives of other classes was open, and most sageuks since then have taken advantage of that door being open.

Many (I want to say “most” but it kind of hovers in middle ground, I think) will have the protagonist spend part of their life as either a commoner or a poor noble. The protagonist of noble birth who lives as a commoner comes in 2 main varieties: they were born in secret in one way or another, and only find out they have noble (or royal) blood much later in life, after establishing themselves one way or another, or they live as a noble or royal as a child, but are forced to live as commoners or slaves for many of their formative ears before reclaiming their true status. On a similar note, protagonists who actually are commoners with no noble or royal blood are considered exceptional. They’re special, they’re…NOT LIKE OTHER COMMONERS. But there’s also the flipside. The flipside is that all the corrupt and scheming politicians, the cruel masters are treated as individuals. Their social status may have contributed to their corruption an cruelty, but only in that the individual would have been that way anyway, they just happen to have more power, and they re many good and kind masters, and well meaning politicians, That the class system itself was a problem, that there was a social order that told people they were inherently better than others by birth, was not a consideration. 

Shows have tackled this mindset over the years (Maids and Chuno come to mind for sageuks I’ve seen that try to push the standard approach, re: class, a bit), but none have fully committed to taking it on until now. Except that Saimdang is not the show that did so. Saimdang takes the same approach as it’s predecessor-and most sageuks in between-of romanticizing the nobility while also tackling the plights of the lower classes. But what was revolutionary 14 years ago is not revolutionary now. And then we have Rebel. One of the very first things Rebel does is completely obliterate any idea that Gil Dong has noble blood, in a flashforward at the beginning where King Yeonsangun confronts Gil Dong.

Yeonsangun: “I will ask you clearly. Answer me honestly. I heard you are a descendant of the demolished royal family of Goryeo. Is that right? I heard your anger comes from having a father of the noble class and a mother who is a maid. Is this correct? Then what is it? Who on earth are you?” (Gil Dong is shaking his head in amused contempt throughout this.)

Gil Dong: “I am not a descendant of the royal family from Goryeo. Nor am I a son of a minister, or from a poor noble family. I am only a son of my father. My father, a servant over generations, Amogae.”

Yeonsangun: *outraged, disbelieving laughter* “That’s impossible. It’s impossible that someone like you could’ve been born to such a lowly man.”

Gil Dong: “You were born to the master of this country. How did you turn out to be such a lowly man?”

Ok, first of all, THE BURN THERE, GIL DONG! THE BURN. I can only assume that the camera pans out and away so fast after that so that we don’t see Yeonsangun burst into flames from that one.

HOWEVER, while we didn’t know it when the episode aired 3 months ago, this scene is essential to the world view of Rebel. Because ever “noble” sageuk origin was just shot down, and the idea of the “special” commoner isn’t far behind it. And Yeonsangun NEEDS Gil Dong to have that origin. His worldview cannot allow for a “common” person to have more sway than him. Gil Dong doesn’t simply violate his person worldview, his very existence violates the established social order and divine superiority of birth, something that we come to full force for Yeonsangun at the beginning of the latest episode, and something that is beginning to consume him.

Of course, Rebel relies in part of a prophecy of a “mighty child” (Gil Dong) a child born with superhuman strength and healing powers, destined both to become a general and to suffer great losses if he does not control himself. However, it is not Gil Dong’s power that makes him special, it what he does with it. Gil Dong’s power is not what makes him special or what makes him a hero, but it is part of what makes him able to DO something. The “Mighty Child” is born of necessity, not because some random kid won the genetic lottery. (The “Mighty Child” status is also considered to be a curse, not a blessing.) We’re also given a second mighty Child as a counterbalance, and the second mighty child-of equally low birth and with possibly an even more tragic background-flounders because he can’t even manage to properly misuse his powers, much less achieve the Mighty Child’s destiny. I’ve said plenty about my feelings re: The Mighty Child(ren) in previous tumblr posts and will probably make even more posts focused on that aspect in the future, so I won’t dwell on that now.

Moving on from The Mighty Child: Rebel takes the stance that the class system isn’t simply a case of advantage and disadvantage with good ad bad people, but rather, the class system itself is an ideology, and that ideology is the enemy. It isn’t that there are bad apples (and remember, the point of the whole “bad apple” thing is that if there’s a bad apple among your apples, you need to just toss them all and get new apples, not that you just take out the one bad apple and assume all the others that came from the same place are perfect just because you can’t see their problems on the outside) it is that there cannot be good and there is no justice in a system that holds that one group of people is inherently superior to another, and you cannot expect the people who benefit from that system to help find justice in it. When Gil Dong’s father, Amogae, kills his master, Lord Jo to avenge his murdered wife, the widowed Lady Jo only hates Amogae in part because of her murdered husband. What she truly hates Amogae for, the reason she wants him destroyed, the crime she can never forgive, is that Amogae is an abomination that has violated the natural order.

THAT is the true villain of Rebel. The class system itself, the social order that tells one person that they are inherently superior to another by birth, that the higher your class is, the more the world exists to serve you, is the villain, and Lady Jo, her allies, and Yeonsangun are the manifestations of a corrupt and unjust system. This is something that we and the characters grow slowly more and more aware of, until it’s brutally driven home in episodes 21 and 22, and all illusions and any semblance of romanticizing nobility or royalty are ripped away and ruthlessly destroyed in the most devastating fashion. (Not to mention graphically violent, particularly for network TV standards.) Hwajung touched on this idea a bit with it’s ultimate assessment that it is impossible to be a good person and to be king, no matter how much you might want to both, and so there needs to be an opposing force to keep the king in check, but it does not more than touch on the idea, and very much has the typical sageuk romanticization of nobility and royalty.

In the most recent episode, Gil Dong has an exchange with the shaman who pops up every now and then about why oppressed people don’t fight back, and this is her analysis:

Shaman: “They are scared because they don’t know what it is like. All of them…have neither fought nor been victorious in anything in their entire lives. They are only used to running away, losing, and being cheated. They don’t know what it means to fight, or to win.”

She goes on to tell Gil Dong and his men that they can stand up and want to take on the king (the ultimate manifestation of the corruption of the class system) because they have been fighting. Their life experiences have given them the worldview that things can change. She started the speech and I was bracing myself for a NOT LIKE OTHER COMMONERS speech, and instead I got “dude their life experiences royally suck and tell them they can’t expect anything good.” There are only two things that set Gil Dong apart from other commoners: His strength, and the fact that his father was an “abomination” who violated the divinely designated social order. The latter, the rejection of class and the ideology that accompanies it, is the more important of the two, while the former is part of what gives him the ability to do something about it.

It’s from this approach and viewpoint-that the class system is an ideology, and that consuming ideology is the true villain-is the focal point for the many other themes of the show, most notably the conjunction of nature and nurture, the difference between the law and justice, and the endless complementary and opposing mirroring of characters against each other. Everything springs from that.

So, going back to the first sentence. over on SBS, Saimdang is ably doing the same thing Dae Jang Geum did 14 years ago without updating itself for the modern audience (with SBS execs sulking because they somehow managed to make a guaranteed cash cow not be a cash cow and punishing the show and LYA for it-it’s going to be a while before I’m over this) or attempting to expand on the ideas in DJG, while being set in largely the same time period as DJG, with the same core political event (Jungjong’s political coup and overthrowing of Yeonsangun) providing much of the political background impetus for the show. Mean while, over on MBC, the same station that DJG aired on 14 years ago, Rebel is airing on different nights but mostly over the same time period as Saimdang, is set one generation before Saimdang and will most like end with the same political coup, or with the beginnings of it taking root, and is critiquing and deconstructing the approaches to class that Saimdang takes while taking a progressive and revolutionary-for-sageuks stance on class, nobility, and royalty.

It will be interesting to watch this years sageuks after this. All the ones that are coming out look to be focused on royalty and palace conflict, and Rebel’s success has been largely word-of-mouth, a lot of which has been about hit’s approach to class and the fact that none of the protagonists, possibly excepting Eom (who isn’t from a common family, but is from a pretty low ranked noble one), are from the noble class. So. pretty much, all the upcoming sageuks are relying on things that this one is achieving acclaim for rejecting. If nothing else, I’ll be an adjustment for fans of Rebel to go back to “normal” sageuks.

Note: I understand that Six Flying Dragons does tackle similar ideas, but (a) I haven’t seen it yet and (B) it DOES end with the main character becoming the first king of Joseon, so obviously it doesn’t commit itself to the degree that Rebel does.

[fyrapartnersearch]

Let's Burn it All down and Start again

Ah, FYRA, hello. Back in January I had proudly bragged to a partner that I was done posting ads because I had all the writing I needed. Was I actually that naive or has 2020 actually been that long? Damn COVID. Anyway, my name is Chris, a dude in his late twenties with a lovely wife (that also uses this board for ads! Hey, Poe! I love your ass!), two gorgeous animals that I love sharing pictures of, a comic book addiction and crazy ass job in a COVID19 ICU as a night nurse. Basically, the roleplay will *ALWAYS* be super medically accurate. I've been writing long enough that I list my skill as 'god damn professional' and post 2-3 times a week but am available for plotting and gushing over our line nearly around the clock. I can crank out anywhere from 4-16 paragraphs a reply, depending on the action and characters. I only write m/f (as the dude) and f/f. Always aiming to write in the long term. I'm easy to reach! Either drop a line to me at Chrisx104@gmail.com or on Discord at NurseBatman#3674. I'm also on Gchat and skype at Chrisx104 if anyone still uses those dinosaur messengers. Anyway, onto plots, originals first and then fandoms. Original Political Intrigue, m/f A male US congressman with an image as a family man plans to make a jump to the senate and hires a young and savvy woman to be his campaign manager. One thing leads to another on the road and the two begin a secret relationship that revolves around garnering more political power. This line is heavily influenced by my love of House of Cards and could involve sabotage, murder, black mail, etc. Definitely a line that I could envision lasting a few 'seasons'. Lost in America, m/f & f/f A piece set in 1970s, my favorite era of time. A group of teenagers, most of which have recently graduated from High School, decide to leave their sleepy little east coast town behind for a new life out in California. Loading up into a VW Bus and blaring some music that would eventually be deemed 'classic rock', they had out on their adventure. I'm envisioning a cast from 4-7 and will HAPPILY throw in some horror elements into this line. A Detective Story, F/F Twin teenagers are murdered and two female detectives are kicked the case. I'm really wide open on this one, in regards to the setting and if there's a relationship between the two detectives previously or not. This is just heavily influenced by my love of True Detective. The Fight Life This one is a bit of a longshot because I'm definitely looking for someone with some knowledge in regards to MMA/UFC, my personal favorite sport. I'd love to find someone interested in writing a female MMA fighter that is just breaking into the big leagues. I have a bit of a supporting cast in mind to build around her (Coach, best friend, and a love interest) left over from when I couldn't get this line off the ground previously due to a partner's chronic ADD. This line would include getting to write some pretty batshit crazy fight scenes. If you're interested but don't know anything about MMA, I am a willing, willing tutor. FANDOMs DC Comics I would definitely just love to write an original continuity Batman against an original continuity Catwoman. We can pick the circumstances of their meeting/reunion (adding in knowing each other when they were younger) and what sort of Gotham we want to write in. I have a lot of experience writing Bruce but have never gotten to do this pairing much. Marvel Comics PLEASE, I so badly want to write Peter Parker. I have read comics for a hundred damn years and have never really gotten to write the Spectacular Spider-man and really, really want to. Unfortunately, most of his love interests are sort of lame, Black Cat/Felicia Hardy notwithstanding. If anyone would be interested in writing these two, I'd love to do it quasi MCU adjacent, with Peter at college when he meets Felicia before later encountering (unknowingly) encountering her as Black Cat. Crossover Comics I love writing John Constantine and he's one of my favorites to write. I'd love to find someone interested in writing Wanda/Scarlet Witch since the MCU has never really touched on the magic aspect of her powers and give her a drunken Yoda to deal with and channel her obscene amount of power. Alternatively, I would love to write John against Elsa Bloodstone but I would want someone that knows the character well. The Matrix An old fandom that I wrote years ago but one with a lot of original potential for fun. Maybe something with the next anomaly or just a crew working to ease humans out of the matrix after the films. Idk. Doctor Who I really, really want to find someone to write the 13th Doctor. I've spent years writing the Doctor and want to give a crack at being against the Oncoming Storm for once. I propose Jack Harkness for m/f and Yaz for F/F. I have experience as both characters. Dead Like Me An old show I loved. What could be more fun than writing an original group of grim reapers as they navigate their own death and escort the recently deceased onto the next life while still trapped in this plane. Harry Potter Buddy cop aurors. That's all I got.

Resident Evil I’d like to write Leon against Claire Redfield or Jill Valentine in an original outbreak or a new one. I know this is an old school fandom but I’m a diehard fan. I hope something in this ad caught someone's attention. Message me or email me and let's create something awesome together!

[vrronska]

I hear that you have some good reasoning as to why Evie should have worn a corset and am intrigued

wowsies, I haven’t notice this ask (beloved tumblr don’t show notifications, and i was on a hiatus for a bit) SORRY ANON!

(oK so I was screaming to @teal0gic about it for like solid 20 minutes, you can find the post under the cut)

So, *cracks fingers* let me begin

Before I get to the point why it could be useful in combat, let me point out some of the facts about them and bust some myths:

 wearing corsets doesn’t hurt, and is hardly uncomfortable if you are used to it; 

It can’t kill you, shouldn’t make you faint as well; all this infamous fainting in the ballrooms was mostly caused by lack of oxygen (a lot of burning candles and crowds of people in badly ventilated room, since windows were rarely opened) or illnesses, and wasn’t even that frequent

it does move and deform your organs- but pregnancy does too, and it’s even worse then. Also, it has little to no impact on woman’s health. This myth was created by moralists- men, that have never ever tried a corset on anyway

They shouldn’t be laced to the extreme- it is hurtful and dangerous. Corset should be well-fitted, pushing all the FAT down (another thing- corset’s doesn’t make you flat-bellied and fit, when you look at it from the side it actually looks like one has been pregnant for a few months...), so every woman would get different effect ; it depends on anatomy. I, for example, using 1870/80 corset, have 22 inch waist with barely laced corset- and I’m not the most thin person- and my really skinny friend, using corset made of the exactly same pattern looks like a plank. Why? because i have ribs naturally going in very extreme V shape (and a good amount of fat to push down)- and she hasn’t. Corset doesn’t automatically mean hourglass body, unfortunately.

Women back then were used to it. Actually I like comparing corsets to bras; the purpose, after all, was very similar. Lets do it then; imagine you have big boobs. like, very, truly big. It’s ok when you’re wearing bra; but one day, someone takes it from you: “bee free, my friend, enjoy your life to the fullest, with your chest out of the horrid cage!”

It hurts, doesn’t it? I mean, running is terrible, sleeping is terrible, jumping is a fucking horror; that what 19th century women would feel without corsets. What’s more, the corset held the whole upper part of their bodies in straight position- muscles on their back were very weak, and being left without a corset meant being left in quite a pain.

Now, let’s finally go to Evie, shall we?

First of all let me reveal a scandalous secret: Evie Frye doesn’t wear a bra. Or anything. Barely a thin, cotton/linen shift under her clothes. Since her chest is not the smallest, fighting and parkour must be terrible. I’m so sorry for you, Evie. 

imho  the writes of the game did a terrible job working on historical accuracy; they obviously don’t understand history, because inserting modern philosophy, modern way of thinking and being politically correct should not take place in such things at all. We need to forget 200 years of development, if we want it to work out. Ethan doesn’t have servants in his house, even he’s wealthy enough to have them- it’s because he doesn’t want to use people, he says, but what he does is basically not letting them earn money in a good conditions. If he really felt so bad for servants, why in the sweet heavens hadn’t he got one or two and treat them well and paid them well? The same twisted logic comes with “rescuing” kids from factories; they may be free, but they’ll die of hunger in a few weeks became pickpockets and thieves, congratulations, good job

The same goes for Evie. My point is, she doesn’t wear a corset, oh, how feminist and cool’s that, she’s so against the rigid Victorian society! Well, no. In a way it makes her weaker (the absolutely ridiculous ball sequence; the whole hate on that oh so bad clothes anD NO ABILITY TO RUN???? LIKE WHAT THE FUCK EVIE I have E from PE and I climbed a fucking mountain in a well laced corset and without all this free space around my ankles you had wearing a crinoline???) and takes away quite a chance to have.... an armour.

Of course, corsets limit the range of body movement, and I can understand that could be a problem; It blocks the ability to bend in half, takes away all the flexibility of the torso, but you can run and jump in this thing just fine. Since it presses on lungs in one way or another, the stamina bar of the wearer is also shorter than one of the person not wearing it; but that’s all the cons i could think of right now. Of course; quite troublesome for an assassin, but I guess it would be possible to overcome it with the right training.

The armour thing is interesting as well: standard corset is made from two (or more) layers of thick cotton, and a steel boning. Shit’s pretty hard to tear; it works just fine as a light armour. By the pressure it creates on the veins it also kinda prevents massive bleeding; Empress Elisabeth of Austria, when stabbed in a heart, lost just a few drops of blood and died when they took off her corset, and i think it proves my point here

Tl;dr: Evie should wear a corset because it can do as an armour and a breast support and is 100% wearable and safe

(i’m working on an article about victorian clothing (mostly for fanfiction writers) right now so if you’re interested so )