#<- literally does not have a name. credited as woman

[dailyhatchetfield]

day 171 - @polyamships' polyartober day twenty-nine; marks

[multifandom-worlds]

In The Shadows

Genre: Angst

Word Count: 2.1k

Warnings: secret relationships, non-canon, profanity

Authors Note: This is a reader insert fic, but the background is basically the reader is Draco Malfoy's twin sister. If I have forgotten any warnings, do let me know, please!

Your content consumption is on you.

“Why was she wearing your jersey, Mattheo? Answer me that: why does another woman get what’s mine?” You demand, walking into changing rooms. You knew everyone was out; you counted them yourself. Mattheo was standing up, waiting for you to arrive. 

“I could ask you the same question. Why are you wearing another man’s name?” Mattheo retorts, stalking towards you. He’s used to you cowering, becoming putty in his hand, but this time, you were defiant. You were not going to let him intimidate you. 

“I don’t think I’ve met someone with such pathetic critical thinking skills,” You shot back. “It’s not just “another man’s last name” like you so kindly said; it’s my fucking last name, Riddle. If you used your brain for once in your goddamn life, you’d see I’m wearing my brother’s jersey. Why am I wearing my brother’s jersey? Because someone is too fucking embarrassed to be seen with me that he refuses to let me wear his. I’m beginning to think you just want me for sex, and that’s is”

Mattheo stops his advances, caught off guard by your aggression. He was not at all used to you standing up for yourself. Not to mention reducing his love for you to merely sex. “...Don’t say that, love. You don't mean that you know I love you; it's just…”

“It's just what, Riddle? Your father? Do you realize who I am? Who my family is? I'm a motherfucking Malfoy. I am the daughter of Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, the fucking death eater.” You look up at him, all your insecurities manifesting into anger.

“No…your brother,” Mattheo says meekly.

You look at him dumbfounded. “My brother? You're worried about my brother? My brother couldn't punch his way out of a wet paper bag. Are you worried he'll tell our father? Baby, father would be happy I'm dating the literal Dark Lord’s son. That gives him a leg up, so to speak.” 

Mattheo raises his hand to cup your cheek before he hears the changing room door open. He immediately takes three steps back as Astoria walks in, his jersey in her hand. “Here you go, Matty.” She says, a nauseatingly flirtatious tone in her voice. She gasps when she sees you, grabbing onto Mattheo’s bicep. “What are you doing here? This is the men’s changeroom.” 

To his credit, Mattheo steps away from her but is not quick enough for your liking. “She was just...” he began before you cut him off, your jaw tight, and a look of pure hatred burned behind our eyes. 

“Leaving.” You spoke with absolute authority. “Goodbye, Riddle, good fucking riddance” You turn and walk away without even a second glance. However, you do linger at the door, silently hoping he comes after you.

You could hear Astoria laughing, “she actually believed she had a chance with you? She really is an embarrassment to her family. Now let’s go; I have a reward for you!” 

You walk away after that, knowing you’ll only break your own heart more. You walk away, the tears threatening to spill. How can you be sad about something nobody knew about? What do you say when people ask…what do you do? You move on in the shadows, just as you were loved in the shadows. 

You navigate your way through the Slytherin common room, staying near the walls and doing your best to avoid the partygoers. You have no desire to party; all you want is your bed. It was then that you felt a familiar, calloused hand grab your wrist. Turning around, you come face to face with Mattheo’s captivating smile. For a moment, you nearly forgot everything he put you through.

“I was wondering when you’d show up, Mally. A party is not the same without you.” He says, pulling you close and nuzzling his nose against your neck while wrapping his arms around your waist. You wanted to believe him, believe that he finally decided to love you publicly, but you could smell the fire whisky on his breath. He's drunk. 

“You’re drunk, Mattheo. Leave me alone; I’m not partying tonight.” You say, pulling away from his grip. “Go party with Astoria; she must be just dying to spend time with you since you’re single, after all.” 

He looks at you, confusion twisting his gorgeous features. “I’m not single? What do you mean, Mally? I’m dating you. I have been through the 7th and 8th year. I want to stay with you.” 

You sigh, stepping back away from him further, with tears prickling in your eyes. “That would mean so much more if you weren’t drunk, Matty. It’s over for us, don’t make this harder than it needs to be.” You turn from him and slip effortlessly into the writhing student body. 

You collapse on your bed and release the sob that had been building in your throat all afternoon, ever since seeing Astoria wearing Mattheo’s jersey. ‘It’s better this way,’ you told yourself; this way, you can find someone who loves and appreciates you in the open, not hiding you away like some dirty little secret. You cried yourself to sleep that night with Mattheo's shirt tucked tightly to your chest, not wanting to wake up the following day.

The following days dragged on. You did everything you could to avoid your ex, but it was getting more challenging by the day. One night, after you and Mattheo had been partnered for Charms, you broke down to your brother, confessing everything. Your 2-year relationship with Mattheo, your “break up,” all of it. You cried in Draco’s arms for hours, and like the dutiful brother he is, he consoled you the whole time, quietly seething. How dare someone do this to his beloved sister? How dare someone reduce her to tears like this? 

You were almost asleep, floating just on the precipice of dreams while Draco was reading you a story, when there was a knock on your dorm door. You move to get it, but Draco stops you. “You need to sleep, moon. I’ll answer it.” He says softly, pushing your hair from your face. 

You heard the door open, and Draco stepped out into the hallway. What you didn’t expect to hear, however, was the conversation. 

“What are you doing here, Riddle? Haven’t you done enough?” Draco says, his tone angry.

“What are you talking about, Draco? I came to check on her, but she hasn’t been answering my messages; she’s ignoring me. I just want to talk to her. Is that so bad?”

“Why would you keep her a secret, Riddle? My sister is brilliant and incredible. She is more my father than I could ever hope to be. She is the greatest duellist this school has ever seen, which is why she’s the Slytherin Dueling Club Captain, and you threw her away for Astoria? All she ever wanted in her life was someone to see her for who she was, not what she could be. She hoped it was you, but keeping her a secret, that's not what you do to someone you love. Leave her alone, Riddle.”

Draco shut the door before you could hear Mattheo’s response. It warmed your heart that you had someone in your corner, your confidant, your protector. You now understood what Fred and George were saying - having a twin is the best thing. 

You pretended to sleep as Draco walked back over, but you felt his lips land softly on your temple. “Goodnight, little moon. I’ve got you.”

Mattheo catches you in the hallways while you are walking between classes with your brother several days later. “Mally, wait, please... talk to me. There has to be a misunderstanding. Please.” He looks like he hasn't slept in days. 

“For the last time, Riddle, leave me the fuck alone!” You yell while pushing him away from you, but he comes back like a moth to a flame. Clearly, you were going to have to tell him in a language he would understand. Once he got within arms reach, you punched him square in the nose. You could feel the cartilage break under your fist. “I told you, leave me alone, Riddle! You had your chance with me, and you gave that up.”

Mattheo holds his nose while looking at you in complete shock. Everyone in the hallway was looking at you in complete shock. You walk away, Draco hurrying after you, leaving Mattheo to deal with his broken nose himself. You could faintly hear a commotion happening behind you, but you didn’t dare look around. 

The rumours began mere hours later and steadily built up momentum as the days passed.

“Did you hear Mattheo Riddle got his nose broken by that Malfoy girl last week?”

“Did he actually? How did Tom react?”

“I still can’t believe Mattheo got his nose broken by a girl.”

You were growing tired of all the gossip about you. You heard from Draco that Mattheo had started withdrawing from everyone; clearly, he was, too. The guilt began to eat you up alive - was he actually that in love with you that your separation was this hard on him? There’s no way he loved you, not with how he acted; maybe he was just embarrassed. Hopefully, he was just embarrassed, but you couldn’t worry about that; you had bigger things on your mind - the Dueling Club tournament. 

You sit back, watching your team dominate, cheering them on and giving the newer ones points before they step into the ring. You have to sit with the other house captains, something about rules or whatever. You clock Mattheo, sitting a few seats down, but pay it no mind.

Slytherin and Gryffindors were neck and neck; this next duel would decide who won that year's tournament. You stepped up for your house, stepping into the ring amongst hoots and hollers. After some intense planning, Harry Potter steps into the ring. The whole room fell silent. The Chosen One, the boy wonder up against Hogwart's greatest dueler. This really would be a duel to remember.

“I guess we’re doing this, Potter.” You chuckle, taking your wand from your robes and holding it comfortably in your hand. You scan the room before your eyes lock with Mattheos, and you see a myriad of untold emotions. His eyes draw you in, locking you in place. The world beyond you slips away, melting into a sea of nothingness; nothing mattered to you more at that moment than Mattheo. 

Until, out of your peripheral vision, you see a spell coming hurling your way; instantaneously, you snap into action, quickly casting a barrier and returning the spell at him. “That was a good try, Potter,” You taunt, waiting for him to engage again. His eyes burn into you before slinging spell after spell at you. One or two of them connected, but it wasn’t enough to win.

“Fuck you, Malfoy! Fight back, you coward!” Harry hissed, growing more and more agitated as the duel commenced. He was getting sloppy, precisely what you counted on. He may be “The Chosen One,” but that doesn’t change the fact that he is a hothead and a thoughtless dueler. 

“Easy, Potter, don’t lose your head,” You taunt again, stalking around the ring like a predator stalking its prey. You watch closely, taking note of his actions as you patiently waited, waited for the right time to strike. 

Now.

You go on the offence, unloading a flurry of harmless attacks, each one hitting its target with deadly accuracy. Within seconds of your attack, that match was called, and Slytherin was named winner of the Tournament. Your whole house jumps up and swarms you, chanting your name. You were enjoying all the celebration when you saw Mattheo pushing through the crowd. You prepared yourself mentally for whatever argument was about to ensue, but when he reached you, instead of starting an argument, his lips collided with yours. 

The kiss was electrifying, hungry, desperate, and everything you needed it to be. Mattheo's hands danced their way down your face to the side of your neck, resting there as if they were always meant to be there…and perhaps they were. 

“You're mine, do you understand me?” He growls as he breaks the kiss. “No more of this ignoring me bullshit. I know where I fucked up, but I need you back, Mally. Please, no more hiding, no more keeping you a secret.”

You look at him, seeing the vulnerability he’s showing in front of everyone. He bites his lip, and his hands begin to tremble ever so slightly. You knew in your heart what to stay. 

“You’re a goddamn idiot, Mattheo Riddle, but you’re my goddamn idiot.” You punctuate your sentence with a kiss, sealing everything.

[joemama-2]

THE BALLERINA

synopsis: Gojo Satoru is a man of power, status, and strength. nowhere in his life does he have time for relationships, let alone love. but he starts to question his boundaries when a pretty ballerina catches his attention.

tags/warnings: gojo x fem reader, minor fluff, angst, major character death, depression, strong language, sexual content, self-harm

word count: 2972

divider credit @cafekitsune

This story begins with a man and a woman. These two are from completely different worlds. They were brought together by nothing more than a simple bump-in occurrence. At least, that’s what the woman thinks. In reality, the man has been watching her for a while now. A man like him shouldn’t be nervous, but the woman makes him feel just that. She doesn’t even know she does it, it’s natural. And that scares the man.

Anywho, there’s a man and a woman. 

This man is named Gojo Satoru. The woman….is you. 

Now, this is not about how two strangers fell in love. It’s about how time got the best of them. How simple mistakes led to a downfall. Pay close attention because as soon as you think you have him, you don’t. Or maybe…it’s him who doesn’t.

Gojo first sees you while you’re on stage. You look beautiful, stunning, shining (literally). There’s others on stage with you, but his eyes stay on you for some odd reason. The auditorium is large, many of its attendants dressed up for the formal occasion. They watch on in awe, some even recording subtly. There’s others who whisper amongst themselves about the entertainers. 

“Wow, look at that one, her form is excellent.”

“Oh my, I love this part.”

“So beautiful.”  

The last part is muttered by him. He says it to no one, considering he’s alone. But a small part of him hopes you can hear the praise that’s directed at you. Of course you can’t. But he hopes. Hope is something funny to have, isn’t it?

His arms are crossed over his chest, a small smile on his face as he focuses on the way your body twists and twirls, toes pointed high in the air. There’s a smile on your face too, it’s fitting for the setting. The white fabric looks stunning on you, but you know what looks even more stunning?

Your eyes.

Gojo Satoru admitting someone has prettier eyes than him? How comical. But really, he’s right. He almost jumps in his seat as your eyes make the briefest of glances to scan your audience and he swears you saw him. Again, he hope you did. 

Hope will be a recurring theme in this story, you’ll come to find out.

Gojo is the first to stand and clap once the performance finishes, the rest of the attendants following soon after. You and your other girls smile, giving a small bow of appreciation. And just like that, the curtains close and the lights slowly start to turn back on. He wants to rewind time and watch it from the beginning, watch you from the beginning. If only being the holder of the Six Eyes and Limitless allowed him to time travel, that would’ve been very helpful in this story. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“Here you are.” Gojo’s arm reaches up to grab the canned pineapples the employees just had to put on the highest shelf. 

You’re a little shocked by the presence of this strange man, but ultimately smile politely. “Oh, thank you so much.” with a nod, you grab the can from his hand and place it in your basket. “Don’t know why they do that, it’s a bit of an inconvenience.”

He chuckles, head tilting. “I bet. Luckily I was around, huh?”

Your laugh almost puts him in a daze. “Yeah, luckily.”

You thought that would be the last time you would ever see the man, you were wrong, of course. At first, it was creepy. You remember calling him out on it.

“How come you’re everywhere I turn?”

“I’m a magician, that’s why?”

“Or a creepy stalker?”

“More like a curious one.”

After that conversation, it didn’t help your suspicions. But he never went further than talking. Your optimistic, or maybe naive, side took over. So eventually, you let it be. If Gojo was there, that would mean you weren’t too far away. Days turned into weeks, then months, then a year.

A whole year since you met him. It’s almost baffling how time moves so quick. Just like Gojo, you wish you could go back. He never misses a recital, practice, anything. Gojo is always there to support you whether that’s on the sidelines or helping you stretch. 

His hands feel too warm for you, like it’s a familiar sensation that you haven’t yet recgonized where from. That thought throws you off a little bit but you’ve been pushing it away for a while now. Within the year you’ve known each other,you’ve come to learn that not only is he incredibly handsome, but he’s incredibly secretive. You don’t like secrets. You never have and never will. Secrets for what? What is that other person hiding? The uncertainty draws you away and the fact that he’s not even comfortable telling you. When in all honesty, you’ve told him too much.

He’s only told you he’s an only child and that he’s loaded. Well, he didn’t exactly tell you the first part. But the second he pulled out his black card when buying you a new pair of slippers after you others ones have been used for too many years, that was when it clicked. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gojo and you became close, maybe even too close. Labels and boundaries have been lost anf thrown to the wind. Maybe you’re friends. Maybe you’re more than that? I mean, do friends really touch each other like you guys do? Say the things you guys say? Well scratch that, there’s one boundary Gojo has set in place.

He doesn’t do relationships.

You were okay with that, really. Because at the same time, you weren’t looking for a boyfriend. You were too focused on yourself, learning the new dance for each upcoming recital, making sure you’re form was the best of the best. You were a perfectionist. So essentially, you agreed to his terms.

But can you really blame yourself? Who wouldn’t begin to feel a shift with the way he held you and fucked you like you were his lover, his wife, his soulmate? Never did you voice your opinions because you were conflicted. He was the first man who showed you everything, he was your first. You tell yourself it’s normal and that if you get involved with others, these weird feelings will fade.

However, you should’ve thought twice about saying this to Gojo while he was balls deep in your sweet cunt.

“I…I have a date tomorrow night.”

He freezes mid thrust, muscles automatically tensing. When he pulls his head back from the crook of your neck, the looks in his eyes in different, unrecognizable. Theres a frown on his face, a stark contrast to what it was before and he almost seems angry.

“You what?”

With hazy eyes, it’s hard to focus on him as his face hovers above your own. His hand holds your jaw, titling it up. The silence is tense. You suddenly get the feeling that you made a big mistake because although there’s anger in his eyes, you can see a hint of betrayal hidden underneath. Your lips part but words fail you.

“What did you just say?”

“What’s….what’s wrong?” you ask back, wincing as he pulls out completely. Immediately, you clock in on the fact that he’s turning around, reaching down for his boxers and pants he discarded on the floor. Panic sets in and you sit up hastily, using the duvet to cover your bare form. “Satoru, why–what are you doing?”

“Getting dressed.”

“But why? I thought we were–”

“Have some things to take care of.”

His response scares you and you almost want to cry with how things have changed so quickly. Your hand reaches out for his arm. “Are you mad at me? Please, tell me what’s wrong.”

Gojo hates how your voice can make his expression falter, but he pushes through, gently removing his arm back as he stands. “It’s not you, I just realized something.”

“Satoru–” you stand with him, tears threatening to fall down. He doesnt turn around to face you, even while buttoning his shirt back up, grabbing the dark glasses he left on the bedside table. You don’t even realize you’re trembling before a broken sniffle leaves your lips.

He hates the sound, hates when you’re like this. He hates that he caused this. For a moment, he closes his eyes and he turns around, forcing his casual smile back on his face. You see right through it, he knows you do. So why is he still faking? “Don’t worry, okay? I’ll see you around.”

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was weeks until you saw him again. And when you did, you knew things weren’t the same. His touch never lingered longer than it should, no more stupid flirty remarks, no more winks, no more sex. It was strictly…..friendly. 

You didn’t know if you hated it.

You fall to the ground with a frustrated huff, shaky hands clenching into fists at yet another failed attempt of a cabriole. The recital is in five days and you can’t get this part right. It doesn’t help when the others have moved way past this point, sometimes regarding you with looks of concern and impatience. You were disgusted with that, but you were even more disgusted with yourself. You force yourself back on your feet and walk back to the starting position.

“Maybe you should take a break. You’re obviously frustrated and you won’t be able to–”

“I will.” your sharp voice cuts off his, gulping down the lump that has formed in your throat. 

Satoru knows better than to try you when you’re like this, so he swallows down his words and keeps off to the side, a water bottle in hand. His glasses are still on and when you give him a glance, your irritation skyrockets. Did he really not even want to look at you? Has he become that repulsed by you? He has some nerve, blowing you off and treating you like a stranger. You didn’t even do anything and he’s being a complete asshole about everything for no rea–

Your thoughts are cut off by a sharp pain shooting through your ankle. You hadn’t even felt your body move, it was as if it had a mind of its own. While your thoughts were filled with vile insults, you failed yet again. Why are you failing so much all of a sudden?

Your form crumples down to the floor with a shriek, instantly holding the injured limb. Satoru’s body moves on its own too, within the second he’s by your side with wide concerned eyes.

“Shit, are you okay? Where does it hurt?”

His words don’t do anything. You can’t even offer a response because you’re too preoccupied with pain and anger. You can’t do something that you’ve been spent years dedicating yourself to. Sleepless nights and injury upon injury, this should be a slice of cake. It should be easy. But just like with Satoru, you feel different. Forcing yourself to dance, forcing yourself to a blind devotion, forcing yourself to be unhappy. But, since when has ballet made you unhappy? You didn’t know.

“Get away.” you mutter quietly.

His brows furrow and he leans closer. “Wha–”

“I said get the hell away from me.”

Using your upper body strength, you push him away. You wished you hadn’t. But he pushed you away that night, so why can’t you return the favor? “Get out and don’t come back. You’re making me mess up.”

He doesn’t speak for a moment. Gojo Satoru speechless is a funny sight, if this were a different situation, you would’ve laughed. But you don’t, you can’t. He finally finds his voice. “You’re not serious.”

That pushes you even more, gritting your teeth as you look up at him. “I’m dead serious. Get the hell out. Don’t touch me and don’t even talk to me. Your entire presence is a distraction and I hate you for it.”

You knew what you were saying was wrong and hurtful. You were aware of that fact. But they still tumbled out. You still cried in front of him once more. And he still turned his back on you.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Working with an injured ankle isn’t for the weak. It isn’t for anyone. Your teacher and doctor would’ve advised you not to, but they didn’t know. You didn’t even remember the last time you slept or ate properly. Everything disgusted you and you intentionally avoided the mirrors in your apartment, covering them with blankets. 

However the pain of forcing yourself to use your ankle, the pain of starving yourself, the pain of just existing is something you started to savor. You would laugh to yourself wondering what went wrong. How long have you been feeling like this? Was meeting Satoru just the catalyst to your inevitable destruction? 

As you stand on stage in front of the suddenly blinding lights in a suddenly uncomfortable attire, you pray in your head to whatever god that’s listening to save you. To take you away from whatever hell you were being subjected to. You’re holding your tears in so it won;t ruin the makeup you spent hours on. Your movements feel stiff and forced, hands tembling while you can barely even present a smile on your face.

You just had to have a solo segment. You just had  to say yes to it. You’re people pleasing even to the end.

Gojo Satoru just had to be in the crowd. 

You two just had to make eye contact.

And you just had to fall in front of everyone. 

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

A sudden call too late at night alerts Satoru while he’s sitting at is dining table that’s too big for one person. He almost doesn’t want to answer, but as soon as he sees the familiar name, he’s answering on instinct.

It’s silent on the other end for a second and he begins to think you buttdialed him. That’s until he hears your voice for the first time in who knows how long. And God, you don’t sound like yourself at all. “Satoru?”

His heart is cracking while listening to you. You sound defeated, almost scared. But why? “Y/n.”

There’s a breathy chuckle on the other end. “I’m sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Of course not.” he wants to say it’s because he can barely sleep at a regular time, but he holds back. “I’ve been up.”

More silence. 

“Ah, I see.” he can hear the contemplation in your voice. “I didn’t mean to call so suddenly, I’m just….thinking.”

“About what?”

“You.”

Satoru’s heart clenches and twist in an ugly manner. “Funny, I was just thinking about you too.”

And you laugh again, so does he. For once, it felt nice. For once, it felt like how it did before.

“Are you busy right now?”

“No.” is his automatic response. 

“Okay, I’m glad. Can you…come over?”

Come over? He hasn’t been over since that dreadful night. Anxiety porus through his veins and he gulps, hesitating for a small second before nodding. “Of course I can.”

“I’ve just….I’ve missed you. Wanted to hear your voice.”

He’s already grabbing his keys and heading out. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

His long legs lead him to his car quickly, getting in and balancing the phone between his shoulder and ear. “I’ve missed you too.”

You smiled and you wish he could’ve saw it. 

“I’ll see you then.”

“...See you.” 

Three words are on the tip of you guys’ tongues. Three words. But even three words can be hard to admit. So, you hung up on him.

—--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your apartment is empty when he walks in, confused using the spare key you know he knows about to get in. For some reason you always left it there. It’s like you wanted him to come and see you even when you said you didn’t.

After some wandering, he goes into your bedroom. Flashbacks and nostalgia hits him like cold water. His legs feel shaky all of a sudden and his breath hitches. There’s a small box on your bed that draws his attention. It’s white and wrapped with a red ribbon. Carefully he unwraps it, dread filling his stomach and heart pounding fast. Static is the only thing he hears.

As he opens the box, a pair of ballet shoes greet him.

Yours. 

Not just that, but a small letter.

He opens it with too much force, hands shaking. 

“I’m sorry. I really hope you don’t stay mad at me.

I had so much fun meeting you and giving you everything I had.

Please, live on for me.”

His feet are moving before he can fully register it, calling you as he searches through the apartment for you. Tears fill his pretty eyes and short labored breaths are emitted from his mouth.

His world stops spinning when he hears your phone ring in the barely open bathroom door. In truth, Satoru had a feeling he knew what he was going to find once he entered. His mind knew, but his soul didn’t want to.

Because before him is a sight he can never erase from his memories. 

A bathtub filled with dark water. A bathtub he would bathe with you in sometimes, rubbing your back and combing shampoo through you hair while you giggled.

You’re in it still.

Laying upright with no life in your eyes, a knife in your hand that has toppled over the rim.

If you asked Satoru what he thought in that moment, this would be it.

He wished he died with you.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

And so that’s it. The story of the man and the woman. Happy endings are something neither were familiar with. 

The man now only has a memory that he’ll keep burned into his brain forever, of the woman.

The memory of,

The beautiful ballerina.

a/n: this story was loosely based off the korean film "ballerina". i loved it so much and it was just SO beautiful to watch. anyways, thank you all for reading! much love!

[blingblong55]

The end is here...right?-Simon "Ghost" Riley

photo credit @ave661 middle pic Not edited at all!! ---- F!Reader, angst? idk, cheating ---- A/N: honestly, don't even ask me what this is, I felt the need to write this very late at night...so I'm sorry

"I love you." Oh, what a miserable way to begin the end of this love story. How did it end? How did his smiles, kisses and most importantly those eyes that shined when they looked at you end? Why must love be this evil? Soon, after this funeral you and he will walk away and be strangers once more.

One more glance, maybe one that explains why he fell out of love. Maybe it is a hopeful word for a fool like you. If only love was a joke, at least one you understood but it isn't and now you're dying in a room whilst the walls scream at your foolish heart. Can you pretend he never existed? Can you call him and have him there as he holds your lifeless heart? This book that you made wasn't one for the weak. This book was made for those who needed a reminder that they needed to leave. Was it toxic to have him love you that much and then rip it away from you just before you told him the dreams you wanted to have with him? Was it evil that you had already planned a life with him? or was it vile to have you this in love with the idea of a man who couldn't love you like you wanted?

There will be a day when he fades but today isn't that day for he tattooed his name on your heart for the next millennia to see…to whisper about when they hear the chapel weep for a love that it never got to seal. Oh, what a cruel man must Simon but to have you in bed, to kiss your body like there was no other woman for him. Wise men do say death is best when it isn't by the hand of the lover. If only he warned you about him.

His smile will forever be engraved in you just like his lips will be left with scars that once were butterflies on you. "I'm not a good man, love," he once told you and oh what a fool were you when you didn't listen. Did the weeping willow tree not warn you? "You're in terrible danger." it once said but you brushed it off.

His things are still there, his jacket on the chair like the night he came home and hugged you. Did you know it'd end with you waiting for him to come home again? He was here to destroy you and what a job he did.

Maybe someday, in an alternate universe, he hadn't left you for her. Maybe he would have stayed and completed the dreams you once had. And just perhaps you'd be religious to thank whatever is out there for him.

Tonight you curse whatever is out there.

He was never to keep, maybe he should told you that.

Does he love her like he did you? Maybe he kisses her shoulder but does he move the furniture so he can dance with her in the middle of a drunken midnight? Midnight…hm..what a time to be dead and buried with his memories on your headstone.

He was yours.

He was meant to be yours.

Will you one day confess you left the front porch light on in case he needed a guide back home?

"Forgive me, I have sinned. I committed murder, not literal murder but of my own heart," you whisper to the altar you never got to say your vows to. And maybe she'll hear his vows but you swear yours are sweeter than hers.

As the midnight falls, you aimlessly walk to the haunted chapel. The rain pours as you look at the windy sky. You sigh and maybe that should've been your last one for what is life if not with him.

You don't need much, just need him. Maybe you can sacrifice anything…for the love of all hell… sacrifice anything to get him back.

As you sit on the stairs of the chapel, you look dishevelled. There is a ring on your hand. The one he gave you one Christmas when you mentioned you liked the design of one. What a cruel idea that must've been. Your thumb runs over the designs and tears cascade down your face but it's oh so beautifully covered by the rain. "I love you, Simon. I…I fucking love you and it's killing me." you say before you break down in sobs. There's this feeling, the feeling when you cry too much your chest begs you to stop, where your head aches and your face begs to stop this pain.

You hold onto yourself, maybe this way you'll heal some of the love he took with him but it won't until you have him there.

Is it idiotic to want him back? Yes, but damn does it feel good to want him. So what if he broke your heart? Maybe no one understands this feeling. Maybe the poets were right.

You must let him go, it is killing this aching and weak heart of yours.

You do just that. The ring is left on the steps of the chapel and walk away. What an awful way to mourn the loss of his love. The rain will cover your tracks and maybe you can disappear for a little while.

Once you disappear, there is a shadow man who also mindlessly walks to the steps of the chapel. He sits down on the same steps you did. In his heart, there is a funeral that is happening. He lost something…someone. This man is bitter. There is a sour taste he leaves wherever he goes. Does he know the sour taste he left in you?

There is a story that goes around about him and you know it better than those that tell the story.

As he sits there, he looks at his hands. Did he kill his lover? Not physically…well…yes and now but he killed her heart. He is the doctor that collects hearts and he has yours in a golden jar.

As he looks down, he finds the ring he gifted you. As his eyes wander around the area, you are never to be found at least not anymore and maybe he will find you in his dreams. That's the last place you haunt with that ever-lovely smile he oh so adores.

Those who love are fools struck by Cupid.

He holds the ring and lets his thumb run through the designs he will never craft for another lover. He hums and shuts his eyes. If angels were real, they'd pity him and put him out of his misery.

There was a film about this kind of love out there and maybe you two are fools recreating it but adding real emotions into the mix.

"I love you, even if you'll be the end of me," he whispers as he sighs and lets the tears fall.

The end is here…and it wants to sweep you away but Simon clings to you. Was there another woman? No, he lied and it was a damn good lie so he'd let you live the life he can never give you. He is a bump, a major one at that, in your life and maybe one day, you'll forgive him when you sit down with the actual man of your dreams.

Love, what a stupid word.

A/N: not tagging anyone because I don't even know what this is anymore

[visualtaehyun]

I already spent way too much time watching and dissecting this episode so let's get right into it!

Disclaimer: not a native Thai speaker, still learning 🙏

Title

คลื่นกลางมหาสมุทร /khluen glaang mahasamut/ = waves/ripples amidst the ocean

-> "Echoes Across the Endless Blue" sounds super pretty and, most obviously, it seems to refer to Rak's panic attack underwater

Writer Tongrak

Love that Mut's shirt matches the tassel curtains in Rak's room lol

I copied down the entirety of the 4 articles Mut found but I don't have time right now to translate them so let's just breeze over the last two right now-

The articles mention two of Rak's novels (irl they're MAME's obviously): - "The Boy Next World คนละกาลเวลา" aka the new BossNoeul series - "Love Director วาดรักกํากับใจ" aka the novels Prapai's uncle Frost is from

ViMook

their pronoun use: มุก /Mook/ -> พี่(วี) /phi (Vi)/ and พี่ /phi/ -> มุก /Mook/

A->B is to be understood as I->you, meaning Mook calls herself by name and Vi does so vice versa, and, because Vi is the older one, they both refer to her as พี่ /phi/

The name of Vi's script is so on the nose omg

กลพรางนางมารร้าย /gon phraang naang maan raai/ "The Devil's Tricks"

-> นาง /naang/ specifically means a woman, นางมารร้าย /naang maan raai/ can mean villainess, evil woman, demoness, ...think femme fatale, too. For reference, "The Devil Wears Prada" is called นางมารสวมปราด้า /naang maan suam Prada/ in Thai.

-> as far as I can make out, the cover says 'written and directed by วรรณรัตน์ รัตนเดช' (no clue what it says below his name) - that's Love Sea's art director:

And because I just about lost it at Vi leaving her underwear out for Mook to clean, here's our dearest pearl holding Vi's lacy undies hehehe

I keep calling her pearl btw because that's what her name means- ไข่มุก /khai mook/ = pearl

รางวัลสำหรับเลขาคนเก่ง /raang-wan sam-rap leh-khaa khohn geng/

-> เก่ง /geng/ is the same compliment Mut gives Rak later:

...and what got fittingly translated as "Quite the biter":

กัดเก่งเลยน่ะ /gat geng loei na/

ชาติที่แล้วเป็นหมารึไง /chaat thee laaeo bpen maa reu ngai?/ = Were you a dog in your previous life or what?

More from and about Rak

This translation took me out, it's so fitting and funny:

เสร็จแล้ว ปล่อยแล้ว ก็กลับไปได้แล้ว /set laaeo, bplaawy laaeo - gaaw glap bpai dai laaeo/ = Finished/Came, released - then you can go back now.

ก็ใครจีบพี่สุดหล่อติดน่ะ /gaaw khrai jip phi soot laaw dtit na/ = Well, whoever's gonna succeed in pursuing that handsome Phi (Rak).

พาไปกินข้าวหน่อย /phaa bpai gin khaao naawy/ -> หน่อย /naawy/ softens the request which kinda surprised me after he came in so fiercely with the possessiveness (that he immediately denied lol)

She calls herself พี่ /phi/ as in Rak's literal older sister! The credits tell me her name is ของขวัญ /khaawng khwan/ = gift, present

[dreaminginthedeepsouth]

The first thing she does is stride across the stage. She is moving quickly, for a reason. At events like these, there is typically someone with a clipboard and a headset holding you backstage behind a curtain. They tell you the exact moment when you can walk out. Both candidates will be let loose at the same time. For her to achieve her first objective, she has to walk faster than him, so that she is in his space when, remarkably, for the first time, the two meet.

He seems to avoid her. He has barely made it to his own podium by this point, but she has already crossed her podium and the space between them and now stands behind his podium, on his turf. “Kamala Harris,” she says, in case he needs a refresher. I cannot recall a presidential candidate saying their own name to their adversary like that. It strikes me that that was how she would have introduced herself in courtrooms.

This first move is Aggression Meets Manners. She is trying to own him, with courtesy. She returns to her podium. And the first thing she does now, because she knows she has to, given how it is for women in her situation, is smile. A big, generous, probably rehearsed smile, because you really have to.

There were miles to go from there. But already in that double instant, you had it all. The full range of who she had to be, and who she would be: dominant, alpha, power-conscious, on one hand; joyous, easygoing, a little above it, having a blast, on the other.

Last night Vice President Kamala Harris faced the impossible, contradictory demands women face in politics and in all of public life, and she said, “Yes-and-and-and-and.”

She had to thread the smallest of needles, starting with that mix of aggressive and mannered, then being joyful and tough, gracious and angry, and contemptuous and hopeful, and incredulous and credible, pugnacious and nurturing, pitying and alarmed.

In one sense, there are very few women in the world who will have had the precise experience the vice president did last night. But I doubt there are many women who have not felt themselves forced to thread that needle and win by being all the things.

Last night Kamala Harris was all the things.

What came back to me as I watched was Gloria’s monologue in the “Barbie” movie, delivered for the ages by America Ferrera.

It is literally impossible to be a woman… You have to be thin, but not too thin. And you can never say you want to be thin. You have to say you want to be healthy, but also you have to be thin. You have to have money, but you can’t ask for money because that’s crass. You have to be a boss, but you can’t be mean. You have to lead, but you can’t squash other people’s ideas… It’s too hard! It’s too contradictory and nobody gives you a medal or says thank you! And it turns out in fact that not only are you doing everything wrong, but also everything is your fault.

These incentives and pressures are not fair, but they exist. Last night, as much as any political leader in memory, Harris thrived at being all the things at once — all the things a single person should not have to be.

When she did aggression, she did aggression. “Donald Trump was fired by 81 million people,” she said. (And you have to give him credit: he knows TV, and he knows a good line, and that one he gave a grudging nod of admiration. I see what you did there.) She said to him that dictators “would eat you for lunch.” She told him his crowds were walking out out of exhaustion and boredom, the form of impotence he cares about the most. She told him that she had to clean up his mess.

Ordinarily, this kind of emasculation should only be done in a licensed clinical setting.

What I’ve learned reporting on politics is that voters may say they care about this issue or that issue most, but what they’re often looking for is a gut check on whether the candidate in question has the fight in them to thwart the obstacles that face their family. They know how immovable the obstacles are, because they just spent their day failing to defeat them. Can a candidate do for them what they can’t do for themselves?

The strength, force, alphaness Harris showed last night will satisfy many on that score. But look at what she mixed it with.

Her facial expressions worked harder than Charlie Chaplin’s back when there was no sound. The mics may have been muted, but they forgot to press the button to silence her face. Eyebrows up, eyebrows down. Hand on chin, hand down. Eyes enlarged, eyes narrowed. Skepticism, sadness, eagerness to butt in, exasperation, wonder — she might cycle through all of this during one of Donald Trump’s answers. Can one’s side-eye be nominated for an Emmy? Though Harris often looked right at him when she spoke, when Harris spoke, he looked straight ahead, with his resting fascism face.

Sometimes she listened, letting him wild. Sometimes she seemed like a predator on the savannah, ready to pounce as he meandered. Sometimes, many times, she planted bait for him, with the exterminator’s faith that the pest will eventually come for his nibble. He gobbled instead. Every one of her traps he found, true to biology, and gobbled. The thing about bait is you don’t know it’s bait. Otherwise, you wouldn’t fill up on it. Bait ruins dinner, because by dinner you’re dead.

What a small needle! In addition to all this, Harris sought to show, not tell but show, that the multiracial democracy America is becoming will be fun. One shouldn’t have to convince people that freedom is better than tyranny and the thriving of all better than the thriving of some, but here we are. You have to show people that what they are being manipulated to fear isn’t scary. And Harris carried herself, amid everything else she needed to be doing, with a joy that embodies the kind of future she promises.

The most important new thing I saw her do was prebunking. Pre-, not de-. Debunking is waiting for someone to lie and then hitting back with the truth. It doesn’t work in politics as much you would hope it would in an age saturated by lies. But prebunking works better. Prebunking is explaining to people how they are being (or, better yet, will be) manipulated, what the motive is, how the con works, how the lie will be crafted and how it will function, and, for extra credit, who benefits from it and how. In the age of Trump, too many of his opponents have been all debunk, no prebunk.

But in last night’s debate, again and again, Harris rose to the meta level and explained Trump’s ways in advance so as to inoculate against their infectiousness. “I’m going to tell you all, in this debate tonight, you’re going to hear from the same old, tired playbook, a bunch of lies, grievances and name-calling,” she said in the first minutes. In another moment, she prebunked any professions Trump might make to be admired by foreign autocrats for his strength: “It is absolutely well known that these dictators and autocrats are rooting for you to be president again because they’re so clear, they can manipulate you with flattery and favors.”

Trump is a challenge for anyone, because he is a weird mix of super dangerous and a joke. With the “Barbie” monologue in mind, think of how much harder this challenge grows for a woman running against him. Play up his danger, and you risk being seen as shrill, or weak, or scared, or hysterical. Belittle him, and you risk coming off as a bitch, a ballbreaker, a nag, a witch. It was remarkable, then, to see Harris’s comfort last night in treating Trump as both of these things at once, a danger and a clown.

She loves her a Venn diagram, and in the debate she seemed to find the lens-shaped intersection of what supremely dangerous wannabe autocrats and semi-retired, narcissistic, imploding clowns have in common: They are not thinking about you.

It became her message: He is not thinking about you. He is not capable of doing so. You may believe that is because he wants to be a dictator, and dictators, by definition, don’t worry much about what people need or want or say. You may believe it’s because he is a decent conservative like yourself with some pretty good ideas but just runs his mouth too much. No matter. She is trying to assemble an Ocasio-Cortez-to-Cheney coalition of people who believe that, whatever he may be thinking about, it’s not you.

At the end, she tried to speak to the breadth of a big country that feels today like it’s made of factions and rumps and tribes and slices and segments but that still is a country, a country full of wonder and promise, still, and she promised to be president even of the people who do not wish her well.

“As a prosecutor,” Harris said, “I never asked a victim or a witness, ‘Are you a Republican or a Democrat?’ The only thing I ever asked them: ‘Are you OK?’ And that’s the kind of president we need right now.”

It was a simple line, but strangely healing after these years. Years in which we have not been OK, because everything we have is at risk and all we could have is, too.

“Are you OK?” A little better this morning.

[ccfever]

Why do you support someone who gives no fucks about black woman who are just trying to have fun playing basketball. Cc has white privilege and I assume you do too

lmfaooooooo i’m not white and i don’t even live in the USA. caitlin has credited many black women for paving the way for her to be able to be in the position she’s in right now. difference is she mentions them by name. her basketball hero is literally maya moore. she went on national television and paid tribute to sheryl swoopes, lisa leslie, dawn staley, and maya moore for breaking barriers and being icons in women’s sports. she continuously, on record, have said that the wnba have many women in the league who are deserving of recognition and praise, and she has never took any credit for any of the growth happening in women’s basketball right now. i’d link you all these statements, but i have a life and don’t have the time.

asked about the fever’s first charter flight: i think it will be better if everyone has it, the product on the floor will only be better.

not once did she ever make that about herself.

she defended angel reese after the backlash from the 2023 championship game.

she defended chennedy carter and said the flagrant foul only happened because of competitiveness, and praised her for having a good season.

she denounced the racist and misogynistic people who are using her as a proxy for their agendas. i understand that she is not the most vocal player when it comes to social justice issues. does that immediately make her a racist person? why?

she’s never presented herself as a spokesperson, and to be quite honest with you, it would do everyone good if people stopped banging on caitlin clark’s proverbial door demanding statements and speeches, and start LISTENING to the many women in the wnba who are actually VOCAL, and have EXPERIENCED being marginalized. lift up and shine light on these women.

she has never done anything wrong herself, but you label her as a racist person. that’s disgusting to me because there are actual racist people out there. the chicago tribune editorial team. freaks on the internet. they’re everywhere and they’re the ones being racist but they don’t get any substantial pushback because caitlin clark is the one who takes the heat.

not gonna lie, you calling me a white person offended me in levels you cannot imagine. my country was colonized by americans, we are still suffering from the effects of everything done to us by predominantly white countries. i have a bias towards white people – i don’t tend to like them, especially if they’re not self aware.

you accusing me of having white privilege when you don’t even know who i am is rich. you don’t know me, and you don’t know what i see everyday. i live in literal hell. block me and move on with your life. this isn’t a fight you want to pick.

edit: it’s okay not to like her. it’s okay to feel like she isn’t doing enough. it’s okay to stop supporting her because of that. but being so extreme and calling her a racist person is unreasonable. and calling me racist and white? that’s just stupid. have some nuance.

[genericpuff]

Seeing how there only 10 episodes left do you think Rachel will rush the ending?

The way I see she needs to somehow resign Apollo reign, reawaken the God's, have Persophone defeat Kronos, have Persophone create Elysian, stop the entered winner/killing of nymphs and humans, hell we don't even know what is Leto end goal and what is her whole role in this series other than manipulating Apollo to be king. We don't even know what exactly she did with Zeus (but knowing Rachel she made Leto the other woman despite the fact she was another respectable goddess)

Imo I think Rachel is officially done done with her series and know her viewers are fed up with her constant milking of the series. You can even see it in some of her work where you know she just gave up (unless it's her self insert scenes)

On a side note another thing I should point out is the anti climax of Leuce and Thetis. Besides the fact she made Leuce another other woman the way she made Leuce expression during Persophone home Invasion made it look like she wasn't going to back down. Only for her to make be forgotten 3/4 of the final arc and is never mention again. Persophone didnt even ask Hades how does he even know Leuce. So unless Rachel has plans for her again that was the last time we saw her making that whole plot unless.

While Thetis plot.........

I'll be honest she just got a slap on a wrist and Rachel just insert Achilles as a way to bait her audience/trying to make a cultural reference. Tbh I thought Thetis would have a bigger story like fast-forward she believes she gotten everything she wanted and is now Queen only for the Trojan war occur and she only lost her status bur her son. Thus making the scene a poetic justic/tragedy.

I'll finish this off since I don't want to run my mouth about this series so here's my 2 cent. Rachel is putting to many Greek mythologies in her series that a) she has forgotten about characters b) everyone is now expecting her to have this series be all wrapped up in a nice bow when it actually be worse c) and because she has so many subplots they are left unresolved or unsatisfied

Oh, Persephone created Elysium already. It was literally just this LMAO

Okay in all honesty I don't know if that was actually meant to be Elysium, but I remember seeing people comment on the S2 finale when she was bee-burping at Kronos that she was creating Elysium at the same time as fighting Kronos and I just... yeah okay? But they literally haven't even name-dropped it since the trial. This is what I mean when I criticize Rachel's writing for depending WAY too much on reader headcanon, because not only will she just roll with whatever her fans theorize, she'll do so without actually writing it into the comic so unless you're in the FB groups and Discord, you're probably not gonna pick up on every little decision Rachel made because she's making them with half a thought and a quarter of the effort needed to express it. It means people can say whatever and she'll just take credit for it like "yeah! that was Elysium! totally! you get it! okay moving on-"

As for the Leuce thing, Hades deadass met Leuce when Zeus offered her up as a bride, which Zeus explained to Persephone during the S2 finale arc-

-but again it suffers from a lot of the same issues of Rachel not expanding on her ideas and just resolving them with some other random plot convenience. Why would Leuce be so obsessed with getting with Hades that she'd make up fake text messages? Rachel just really didn't want Hades to be interacting with other women in the 10 years that Persephone was gone, so she had to make Leuce delusional for it to work ?? Why would she go so far as to tell Hades about the text messages if they weren't real the whole time?

-but then of course before Hades can respond to this, Persephone interrupts, meaning the plotline can be put on the backburner until Rachel comes up with a solution to it-

-and then we got to see Persephone 'resolve' the issue by harassing Leuce in her home, and it was only until after THEN that Rachel finally went "no it's fine that Persephone vandalized her home, the text messages weren't real!!! see??? Leuce is just a delusional nimwit! She deserves it!"

And yeah the Thetis and Achilles thing is yet another 'plotline' that Rachel only introduced to try and legitimize her comic as a Greek myth retelling. Just about every myth she tries to portray is done vaguely and without any thought for the world they're inhabiting, it's all just lip service.

At the end of the day, a lot of the writing in LO is 1.) trying to make up for the lack of plot development in the first two seasons (hence why we're now getting sudden lore dumping about how the seasons work) and 2.) trying to make up for its lack of Greek myth set pieces because Rachel has now been openly called out for being arrogant in her 'knowledge' of Greek myth and it has people analyzing just how little Greek there is in this Greek myth "retelling". It's especially apparent in the second season when the whole thing is just self-insert fantasies about Hades and Persephone living together until the plot finally has to get moving again. Every now and then Rachel remembers that this is supposed to be a retelling, so she'll throw in some random Greek myth reference like the Colchian dragon or Aphrodite marrying Hephaestus or Thetis and Achilles.

It's very evident that Rachel never learned how to write a longform story or planned to make LO as long as it is and the story has suffered all the more for it. And it sucks because that's not the story I got onboard with back in 2019-2020, but that's where we are. Ironically, as much as I criticize LO for not having enough Greek myth influence in it, I do think the story would have been far better off if it just stayed as a cheesy office romance fluff fic. It's clearly what Rachel wanted to write but either she or WT (or both) got ahead of themselves and took on more than what LO - and Rachel - were equipped to follow through on.

[the-leviathan-inside-my-mind]

A Theory on Mrs. Flood and Susan Twist

Spoilers for Season 14 ahead!

1. Susan Twist is the One Who Waits

For those who don't know, Susan Twist is an actress who has been playing multiple background characters for this season. Since The Church on Ruby Road, she has played a background character with a speaking role for each episode.

At first, this may seem like an easter egg included by Russel T Davies. However, in 73 Yards, when Susan Twist plays the old hiking lady, Ruby points out that she recognizes her.

What if this reappearing background character played by Susan Twist is actually the One Who Waits? Quite literally, they are waiting in the background of the episodes, biding their time before they finally make a full appearance.

Additionally, there is an extra bit of evidence that may at first seem too meta of a conclusion. However, with the way the show has veen exploring more meta concepts (the Maestro playing the theme song in Devil's Chord, and the theme song not showing up after The Doctor disappears in 73 yards), this might not be such a leap after all. As we know, the actress's name is Susan Twist. And what does The Doctor say at the end of The Devil's Chord, which itself becomes a full length song? He says "There's always a Twist at the end".

(Bonus I found while writing this theory: In the behind the scenes video for The Devil's Chord, Murray Gold mentions that "The song was always called There's always a twist at the end".

The fact that the song was always called this means that the title may be more important than just an artistic choice)

2. Mrs. Flood is the Oldest One.

In the Devil's Chord, the Maestro mentions the Oldest One, who was there on the day of Ruby's birth. At first, I believed that the Oldest One and The One Who Waits were the same. However, this wouldn't explain Mrs. Flood.

Mrs. Flood is certainly not a normal old woman. She is one of the only characters with the ability to break the fourth wall, and demonstrates knowledge of The Tardis, in a scene which suspiciously happens in the middle of the end credits, almost breaking the reality of the show.

I have heard the theory that she could be Older Ruby, yet we have seen old Ruby in 73 yards. Additionally, breaking the fourth wall is a reality warping power. It's a power we have only seen used by the Maestro, and The Doctor right before the Twist musical number (where reality breaks due to the remnants of Maestro's power lingering after their banishment)

Could it be that she is also a member of the Pantheon? If so, I believe that they are the Oldest One. The only major argument against this theory is that the Oldest One is stated to be a He, and Mrs. Flood is referred to as She, but Mrs. Flood can merely be another form or disguise for the Oldest One.

Ultimately, I believe it would be interesting if these two suspicious old ladies are the very extra-dimensional beings that we are warned about.

Thank you for listening to my wild theories! Reblog and comment your ideas, I'd love to know what you guys think about this. I hope you also see my next theory, which is coming out soon, on the identity of The Oldest One. See ya!

[randomfanner]

It crushes me how much Gale Slander there is.

I know a bug made him horny and clingy but in my current play through Gale and Blanche(what I named my Tav) are bros and I have found it easy to avoid romancing him.

And how can you dislike Gale for being a bit pushy and hitting on you when literally EVERYONE HITS ON YOU!!! At the Tiefling Party, if you have medium approval with anyone you can start romancing them and they all want you to god dammit.

But if you actually romance Gale, he is pretty damn shy and hesitant. You can think you want to kiss him and he doesn't just kiss you, he is just stunned. He is not trying to jump right into a romance with you! He can get pretty forward once you, the player, have shown interest in actually romancing him. (Like when he says you are hot when you fight)

A lot of people dislike Gale for talking about Mystra when he is trying to romance you but we have to remember: Mystra means so much more to Gale than just being his ex-lover. Gale worshipped Mystra as his goddess before, during and afterwards their relationship. Mystra is magic, the literal goddess of what he ties all of his self worth too. I will admit I am biased towards Gale because I am the same way about my grades, and for Gale, the Goddess magic and the embodiment of his art took an interest in him and made him his chosen.

When he lost the favor of Mystra, he lost everything he had worked so hard for in his life. Was it partly his own fault? Yes, he fucked around and found out. However I genuinely think if Gale had only been Mystra's Chosen rather then Mystra's Lover, he wouldn't have.

Mystra approached Gale and from how we see Gale act when he is trying to seduce Tav, he didn't make the first move romantically either. Mystra had a lot of power over Gale and I don't blame Gale for wanting to become the equal of the woman he loved.

Of course the problem arises because she is a Goddess and he is a Mortal Man who is overly ambitious. But I do not think the bases of what he wanted was too much to ask for.

Maybe I am giving Gale too much credit, I mean, look at how he reacts to the Crown and oh I do sigh at that. But his reasons are very complex for wanting the crown more then just power.

And the magic items. It is three magic items and you get so many thrown at you during this game. Not all of them are good for every run. An uncommon magic item is like what, 33gp?

When Gale actually comes to you about it too, it is either after you have shown you are a good person who likes to help people and he feels he can trust you to help him with the bomb in his chest that could wipe out a city. Or the alternative is he literally has to come talking to you lest he actually, literally explode and you are the person who is in charge. Yes he gets angry when you refuse but man has good reason, everyone's life is at stake!

Does he give you all the details? No! But the only people who tell you everything at this damn camp are Lae'zel and Karlach! Literally no one tells you ja

There are plenty of reasons to not like Gale. Gale is my favorite but I do see how parts of him, like how he can be sort of a classist asshole about magic(I do not think he intends to be and I think that is Gale's ~Touch of the Tism~ showing and being mixed with self worth issues)

Gale is such a genuinely sweet guy. He values life and people and magic. He may be over the top and get in over his head way to easily just wants to be at home with his cat and a good book and I am so sick of all the slander towards my boy.

[kvtnisseverdeen]

This is my humble take…

Joe Alwyn was Taylor’s best boyfriend. She knows this and her fans know this. But he demands actual work and accountability. Taylor is a white rich conservative girl first and foremost. And she’s very narcissist. Joe is the first boyfriend of hers to put actually limits on how her public personal affects him and their relationship. And she liked dating him at first because he was private and reserved and she was desperately trying to scape the industry and she found the most non-industry British man ever. She liked that security and knowing he didn’t attract that much attention. Then, she slowly gained her reputation back on track and realized that she could finally go back to being the person that plays for the media again. And yes, maybe her relationship with Joe was slowly fading — it happens a lot. But she clearly says in her lyrics that wanting to be shown off in public is one of the reasons too. Because she likes that every relationship she’s in gets consumed by her fans and the media.

And Joe Alwyn required her to go and do some work on herself! He comes from a very activist family. He was the one that made her be more open about social activism. It was because of him that she tried to do the bare minimum like encouraging during elections, have more racially diverse people on her music videos and tours, and do a very cringey job at supporting lgbt rights. But it was at least something…

Isn’t funny that the moment they broke up she went back to being very problematic? The climate terrorist that she’s been for the pass year and then wanting to sue people for spreading her private flights information (knowing this is public information). Then dating that racist man that mocked woman of color and admitted to watch what he did, being quiet about the war that’s going on, and the lame and immature issue she created over some of Olivia Rodrigo’s songs (a literal new artist and teenager at the time) to the point she cut total ties with her and her next man being a very typical conservative macho man that seems to love the attention just like her. She’s back at being who she’s always been…

“Your integrity makes me feel small” Yes, Taylor, indeed. I am glad you know this too.

oh you absolutely have said it all. this is extremely well said and on point.

i find it so odd that most swifties can't pinpoint that the real issue between joe and taylor was taylor once again giving into the industry and being a rich white capitalist which is something joe is not and does not want to be, and most likely caused the demise of their relationship. taylor herself has said this in her songs (like the lyrics in peace, as you said). so yeah, maybe she wanted marriage but joe probably wasn't comfortable marrying someone who had completely different morals than him which is his right. let's be real here.

and oh the relationship between her and travis probably set her "redemption arc" far back than ever. she really was finally speaking up on so many matters and now she's dating a problematic trump supporter, giving into the media frenzy with the NFL, and has done no activism despite having the biggest platform. i think what sucked the most was her being times person of the year and using it to talk about travis and how she wasted 6 years of her life being private. so disappointing. and the cherry on top are some of the lyrics from ttpd (ex. 1830s racism lyric) like WHAT?

another thing swifties misinterpret is that no one would've known joe if it wasn't for taylor and that he's living off of his songwriting credits from folklore/evermore. joe who is notoriously low-key and has stated he just wants to be seen as human never used taylor for clout and has avoided saying her name in interviews, even after the break-up. not because he didn't love her, but because he did not want to feed into the media frenzy. and if all eyes are on him, he's using it to make a statement about palestine which is amazing. sure, you may not have known joe alwyn if it wasn't for taylor but he never used taylor's fame to make him more famous. and might i argue, it was taylor who despite releasing positive songs about him sometimes didn't defend him (like in the folklore sessions where jack antonoff was obviously being rude to him? or how she told her fans not to go after john mayor releasing speak now tv but didn't say anything for joe when her fans have been harassing him like crazy?)

on the other hand, we have travis kelce who has most definitely brought her up in every capacity like on his brothers podcast and let's be real, most of the swifties didn't know who travis was (i didn't!) unless they were football fans. we saw proof of that when NFL sales and viewership was significantly higher. so yes, travis is using her name for clout and feeding into the media frenzy. and then you have swifties saying he loves her and supports which yes, can be true, but you cannot deny that taylor and travis' relationship fed the media, fed the NFL, and diverted attention from more important issues like gaza. and while taylor and travis had their eyes on them, they didn't use it to do any good.

so yes, you are right. joe was taylor's best boyfriend.

[thatbadadvice]

Help! I Am Entitled To Do A Bone!

The Ethicist, New York Times, 14 October 2023:

My wife became pregnant soon after we met, when our relationship was “fluid” and non-monogamous. We agreed to raise the child together and, at my urging, to have an open relationship. However, our relationship since has been monogamous. My wife was injured during the birth of our second child and now finds sex painful and avoids it. (We had a terrific sex life before the injury.) When I broached the topic of having other partners and reminded her of our agreement to have an open relationship, she became irritated and said that having kids changed things. Subsequent discussions resulted in a stalemate. I very much enjoy my wife’s company and love her and our two kids. I have no intention of separating from my family. Nonetheless, I harbor resentments that my wife reneged on her commitment to me, and this, together with the lack of sex, is creating a wedge between us. Would it be ethical to take a mistress, given her earlier promise, and if so, can I do this discreetly so as to avoid tension and perhaps divorce? Or should I tell her I am planning to pursue this course of action? Or does the inherent risk of infidelity mean I should accept near-celibacy indefinitely? — Name Withheld

Dear Name Withheld,

The restraint with which you signed yourself "name withheld" rather than the more accurate "big fun deep-dicking from which I have been blocked by my hateful bitch wife" is admirable in the extreme. You are a credit to your gender, sir.

But on to the matter at hand, specifically, your hand, to which you have been relegated in lieu of the aforementioned big fun deep-dicking. Your wife waited to drop the vicious bomb of possession upon you until she had roped you, an unwitting fancy-free man of leisure (entitled to all the benefits thereof indefinitely and in perpetuity), into marriage and fatherhood of not one but two children — children you could have in no way have known would result from your consistently and entirely monogamous coupling over many years, and moreover, could never have expected would complicate the terms of the thing y'all talked about one time about boning other randos?? And now this self-interested harpy dares to refuse to you the clear promise of sex with absolutely anyone other than her at any time ever, which she made and guaranteed in surety after you'd been fucking for a minute? A promise you had in theory enjoyed by writ and at length in your mind based on a conversation y'all had years ago before the entire terms and nature of your relationship changed in deep and meaningful ways to literally the one other person involved in said relationship, to wit, the worst person?

A bait-and-switch of the kind your cruel and fickle wife has pulled on you cannot, should not, be tolerated. Are you — is any man, really — obligated to just not fuck his wife in addition to whoever else he wants to fuck ever? Just because she "finds sex painful"? Sex isn't painful for you, and doesn't that matter just a little bit more? Isn't it her job to have kind of a bad time so that you can have a good time? Isn't that what it is to be a woman and a mother? And she just casually eschews her duty to put up with whatever the fuck you propose? Because WHY? Because "having kids changes things"? I ask you: changes things for who? For the person who carried children in her body and experienced deep and lasting personal and physical injury? Or for you, the person who matters most?

It seems your wife has an unfortunately topsy-turvy view of partnership, one in which she believes two individuals are allowed to dictate the terms of a relationship that may change over time due to a variety of mitigating factors that one or both of you may or may not have control over. Would that she realized that her sexual needs are not merely incidental to yours, but actively irrelevant. If only she would simply give you that one, small thing (in addition to two children).

But alas, she seems sadly fixated on her own needs to the exclusion of the fact that you would like to do a bone upon her or frankly anyone, you are not picky, as long as she doesn't leave you or take your children away or do anything really to upset the world as you would like it to be, which is a classically controlling woman-type thing that women do because they are so self-involved.

Obviously you're really grappling with the profound ethical implications of lying to your wife about taking a mistress, and you're trying to find literally any other solution to just finding a girlfriend and fucking the shit out of her and hoping your wife doesn't find out. That's clearly the very last thing you want. But since you've shown such magnanimous restraint in not doing so, you probably should just do it and see what happens, it'll probably all be totally fine! And if it isn't, eh, idk? Were you supposed to just survive on beejays and handies forever? You tried your very best not to! And that's what will matter most to your children in the end.

[summercreolefanfictioner]

the scent wafts in, her name making him beg on his knees chap 2.3

pairing: dabi / todoroki touya x fem!oc / reader (MODERN AU)

chapter summary: the moment Touya delves into trouble, and it involved a certain woman and watching a romance movie with his new friends

themes: non-explicit nsfw, violence, alcoholism, cigarette smoking, toxic relationships, mental health, co-dependency and other related themes (YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED)

notes: wrting a bit about cheating and the lore of toxic relationships on this chap was a pain; and yes, no Himiko Toga's were harmed in this fic

"How did you know about this, Dabi-kun?" Himiko marveled at the sight from the backseat, curious eyes taking note of the parking lot that plays free romance movies every Saturday at 9 PM. One might think it was all cheesy and serving, but Touya knew it was a ploy for couples who wanted to get it on while the movie plays in the background. Basically, a place where you can legally have car sex, and no one would bat an eye.

"I just knew," Touya muttered, reaching behind the back to get some of the snacks they had bought earlier. Twice was somewhere far from the vehicles taking a cig, something about accidentally setting the place on fire if he took a smoke near engines.

Himiko blustered, "You took one of your exes here, I bet." There was a disgusted sound at the end as she rolled her eyes and folded her arms in her chest.

"If you knew the answer, then why bother asking?" Touya pointed out (it wasn't true; as if he would), arranging his rearview mirror to secretly check on the woman. So far, she was taking everything well. She wasn't looking at her phone like the expected paranoid girlfriend who still dates the same guy who cheats on her 24/7.

Himiko turned to the woman. "Hey, I'm Toga Himiko," she introduced, taking her hand in hers and rubbing her cheeks on it. "You're so pretty, do you know that? Does your boyfriend always tell you that?"

"I... Nice to meet you, T-Toga-chan," she meekly responded. "I'm..." she says her name, "Thank you."

Himiko was delighted at the sound of Sonohara's name, a gasp following after. "You really are sooooo pretty, Sahara-chan!"

"It's..." Touya corrected, pronouncing her name per syllable. "Her name's not the famous desert, you brat."

Himiko only stuck out her tongue at him, ignoring his mocking tone as she focused again on the woman beside her. "Do you also like romance, Sahara-chan?" Himiko asked and said woman could hear Touya snorting at the foolish nickname. "I like romance. I like them, a lot, lot, LOT!"

"I... well... er—"

Before he could hear more of their girl talk, Touya already stepped out of the car and joined Twice to smoke. The movie was already playing out, the plot was something about a woman who fell in love with a married man and took solace in a place where she would do her penance for being his side piece. After smoking, they both returned to the car and saw both women engrossed in the movie.

"Ohmygoshohmygoshohmygosh," Himiko muttered excitedly, munching on her snacks as the woman watched quietly beside her. "What would happen to Prof. Kitano? Will he still be with Sawa? Oh no!"

Touya glanced at her briefly, noting how she was so focused on the film, especially on the Noriko character. In the film, Noriko is the professor's wife, and she can't fathom the fact that she is being pointed as the bad guy when her husband and his side piece are seeing each other again. She must've felt the scene so familiar to her like it was taken from a real-life experience. There was hurt in her eyes; fleeting, flying, leaving her all at once before she realized the reality she was in, finding Touya staring at her before quickly looking away.

When the credits rolled, Himiko was crying tears due to the bittersweet ending while the other was just comforting her. Twice and Touya realized two things: the movie was literally about the consequences of infidelity, and the fact that she has never once taken her phone out; not even to check if her boyfriend has called her or what.

"I can't believe you saved up to let that bitch watch a film about cheating," Touya commented.

"But Toga-chan wanted it!" Twice argued.

"Check movie ratings first before saving up, dumbass!"

Touya drove them back to the bar, with Twice and Himiko getting out before saluting Touya with the latter's signature middle finger. She was also about to open the door when he said, "I'll drive you home. Just tell me where it is."

"There's no need for that, umm?"

"Dabi."

"Yes, Dabi-kun. There's no need for that. My boyfriend is still inside. Maybe we could—"

Touya was running out of patience, slamming the door open and getting out of the car, slightly scaring her as he opened the door on her side and dragged her out by force, pulling her arm harshly and trapping her against the wall. It was the same position he saw her boyfriend in, thrusting his dick in and out of the cocktail server as he wrapped her legs around his waist. He was making her feel for herself that same disgust he saw.

He didn't know why she was the best target of his mockery tonight. There was just something about her, and he still couldn't figure it out.

"You knew what he was doing out there." He leaned close, almost whispering in her ear as she looked away, her hands in her chest like she was crossing her heart, and hoped this would not end as bad as it gets. "You knew who he laid his eyes on. Don't tell me he might still be there, you useless woman."

Touya expected her to cry, to hear her sniff and swallow her pride as he made a fool out of her. Women like her like to live in the delusion that their man who cheats so constantly will change their mind; that they will see the light and change their ways. They won't, unfortunately. It's what they get for believing sappy romance shits. It's the price they pay for an illusion that will never be.

But she didn't react the way someone like her would. She didn't budge. She didn't do what he wanted. She was just looking down, contemplating her next move as Touya was not taking his eyes off of hers.

"I know that very well. I... I am just glad you went out of your way to get me out there and tell me that you saw him, Dabi-kun," she mumbled, her heart still on her chest. "I really... really enjoyed today."

The fuck?

She sighed, finally looking up at him shyly as if reminiscing something. "Today was actually the day when we would celebrate my promotion, and I am happy that I went to the movies with you three instead."

Touya huffed, finally letting go of her and stepping away. So does that mean she's so used to it? Or maybe she allows him to play with other women? Wait. No. Nevermind. I shouldn't know the answer.

"My apartment's not far from here," she notified, finally sighing in relief. "I can walk from here. Thank you again, Dabi-kun. Please send my regards to Twice-san and Toga-chan."

She was about to walk away when Touya grabbed her arm. He should pull away slowly, should let her run to where she lives, and never return here.

You idiot.

"I'll still drive you," he murmured, feeling a bit guilty about his earlier behavior. He shouldn't meddle. He shouldn't be involved. He dragged her out there because he was bored, and nothing else. Her love problems are her own. They would never see each other again after this. This was just boredom, and he was hungry for entertainment. Yes, that was it. Nothing else.

"I want to."

Fuck boredom.

"Oh." Sonohara smiled softly at his offer. "Okay."

------

She really was just a few minutes walking distance from the bar, walking out of his car and almost bowing respectfully before he followed her and told her he'd walk her to her door. What a gentleman, he was, far from the Dabi who did not give a shit if the woman went home safe or not. He guessed he was weak for women like her. But like what exactly? What was so different about her?

Sure, she was really pretty, wearing his jacket over her tight dress as she tried to walk properly in her stilettos. But was it all it took for him to be like this? He didn't think so. Well, he'll find out anyway.

"Well, this is my unit," she announced then bowed to him. "Thank you again, Dabi-kun. Have a great night!"

And when he went in his car, her scent lingered there. The scent of fresh laundry and morning spring. She might be near the area, but there was no way, she would appear in the bar again.

Until he saw her cardholder in the backseat of his car and realized she was still holding onto his favorite jacket.

ps. Himiko and the woman were watching Hirugao the movie (not safe for minors in Japan ya know)

next chapter

masterlist

[hopefulstarfire]

Do yall wanna know my actual favorite butterfly effect?

Two people fucking on a mountain indirectly lead to my favorite comic of all time, Under the Red Hood.

Let me explain.

Joseph Hugo married a woman named Sophie Trébuchet in 1797. He was a general in Napoleon's army so they moved around quite a bit. In a letter he would later write to his son, he and his wife had been on a trip on June 24th 1801 to get from one post to the next and he believed this, on the highest peaks of the Vosges Mountains, is where he believed they conceived their son, who would later become the Ocean Man and famed author Victor Hugo.

(Fun fact: Jean Valjeans prisoner number, 24601, is absolutely in reference to his believed conception date)

Victor Hugo grows up and obviously is responsible for many works, such as Les Miserables and The Hunchback of Notre-Dame and was never one to shy away from political commentary. Thus, he was exiled from France and sent to living on the Channel Islands. It was here that he wrote a novel titled The Man Who Laughs.

Like many of his works, this one does have different adaptations. One in particular came out in 1928 starring Conrad Veidt as the character Gwynplaine, or the Man Who Laughs.

Fast forward about a little over a decade later in 1940. A comic book writer comes into work to be greeted by two artists he worked with, one who did significantly less work than the others. These three men were Bill Finger, Bob Kane and Jerry Robinson.

Now the details of this meeting are...well, up in the air. Each man had their own account to it, and Bob Kane especially is the most unreliable given that he took credit for literally everything and we went over 70 years without Bill Finger getting any sort of credit to actually creating Batman. But what we do know is that there was a drawing of a playing card and a face for the joker card; and Bill Finger said, "Hey, that looks like Conrad Veidt in the Man Who Laughs."

They pushed further with that angle in making the character, a new villain for their hero; the obvious, Joker.

Some years later we get a little bit of an origin story in 1951, in the comic The Man Behind the Red Hood! (ALSO written by Bill Finger) Some college students are trying to solve this decades old case of a burglar in a red pill helmet that was called the Red Hood and trying to figure out who it was. Teaming up with Batman and Robin, they find out that the Red Hood was in fact Joker's old alias. He used to be a lab worker that was stealing from a playing card company with that alias. He was caught by Batman and threw himself into some chemical waste to escape, thus becoming the Joker.

This origin has stuck around in some form ever since. The moniker was unused for quite a long time after this, but would eventually find a new home in a different character.

See, in the 80s, Batman's second sidekick, Jason Todd, was killed off in a very brutal fashion after a fucking poll that people could call two different numbers to decide if they were going to save him or not. I will get into why I have so many frustrations with everything surrounding this story another day, but the important thing to know here is that the Joker killed Jason while Jason was trying to save his mother.

And for a good period of time there, Jason became a character that you did not bring back to life. Until they did.

A storyline running from 2005 to 2006 came into life, called Under the Hood. In it, Batman has to fight a new foe taking on the mantle of Red Hood, only to discover its Jason Todd, brought back to life from the Lazarus Pit, and taking on the mantle of the man that murdered him to go fucking murder the Joker and take control of crime in Gotham and do what he believes Bruce couldn't, all while dealing with trauma and feeling replaced.

So yeah. We wouldn't have my favorite character or story if it wasn't for Victor Hugo's parents fucking on a mountain and conceiving him there where "The elevated origin seems to have had effects on [Victor Hugo] so that [his] muse is continually sublime". That is a quote from that letter. Victor Hugo's mountain conception where he got a great muse is the reason for the Joker and Red Hood. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

[fadeawaywithyou]

inspired by the new minecraft movie trailer and how it reminds me of a shit jumanji, here is my take on the minecraft plot. this took me like 5-10 minutes, so it's not super serious.

I actually want to try spitballing a better plot in about five minutes-

Unnamed Man in Blue and Unnamed Woman in Green wake up in a forest and meet each other while exploring. Anyway, the Plot is killing the ender dragon. Why? It's the most basic thing about minecraft. The achievement is literally called "free the end" so maybe flesh out why. So, the plot is Gather Materials, Find Stronghold, Defeat Ender Dragon, and the end scene is them looking out into the world and talking about going on other adventures. In the movie they come across a variety of monsters, but specifically a Warden and Wither. The Warden could be a genuinely scary chase scene where they don't kill it. Maybe they have to summon the wither as part of a beacon fetch quest.

The movie has lots of references to minecraft community things. minecraft youtubers and developers act as cameos in people they meet. "don't dig straight down" is on a sign near a cave/town's quarry. Maybe they find books similar to those survival guides i saw in all the scholastic book fairs. Have someone hum Don't Mine At Night or go "awww man" when a creeper explodes. Have a reclusive but friendly town of "hermits" (hermitcraft). maybe you pass by someone saying "the aether is just a conspiracy/myth!" just, things the community of all ages will recognize and go "hey! the thing!"

other:

They decide on the names Steve and Alex themselves, idk when though. The nicknames of Green and Blue between them can stick around. Also while i'm here, idc about romance. have them be friends, or partners by the end, or implied whatever.

I want Steve and Alex to have a personality but also have a generic backstory for the "blank slate" appeal and function of their in-game selves. I have a couple ideas- amnesia or being an everyday person, for example. maybe they are orphans, idk. Waking up in a forest is all i'm set on because that could be the equivalent of "spawning in."

I also have a fun idea where it could be an entirely implied Isekai. ("implied" is the keyword because it's never admitted and the only canonical dimensions are the nether, overworld, and end.) Not like the movie, where you aparently watch them get Isekai-ed, but with how they react to Tree Physics, magic, monsters, etc. and people going "you're not from around here, are you" and/or "how do you not know what X is? have you been living under a rock?" (which would then introduce the audience to minecraft concepts and exposition.)

they live in a "post-age of heres" world where it could be implied that the Old People who build all the strongholds and shit are long dead and they disappeared going after the dragon. this immediately puts an added sense of danger to the quest. also an underdog story.

i also would like a reason WHY Blue and Green can defeat the dragon while the others can't beyond "they are the main characters." this could be the new thing the movie brings in, like a new enchantment or making netherite something the Old People didn't have but necessary? idk, this could go into "movie-verse" logic and doesn't necessarily have to be in-direct canon to the game.

you know those characters that minecraft made a while ago? like the different races and genders? those skins could be characters in the movies.

the soundtrack does have the most popular minecraft sounds, in-game sound effects are used, but maybe some "movie remixes" or maybe they pay and jump through hoops to have Revenge playing for the end Credits.

also this is all animated. embrace animation.

[breakandbuildfiction]

Another Rant About DPxDC Tropes

I didn’t write out all my thoughts on everything in the DPxDC fandom last time, so I decided to write this follow up with some more of them. This time I will primarily be focusing on how people go about using specific characters and their inter-character relationships.

Watering Down and Glorifying Female Characters:

I’ve noticed that this is a theme across a LOT of not only DPxDC fics and prompts, but across a lot of the fanworks for the individual franchises. People will ignore the flaws and shortcomings of female characters and overblow their positive traits purely to make them look more badass or scary compared to the male characters or to make other characters relient on them. Here are some examples:

Poison Ivy: People like to write Poison Ivy as some cool bad girl bent on environmentalism, that she’s pricily but full of ‘cool aunt’ energy. But they ignore the fact that her entire thing is drugging, mind controlling, sexually assulting, and murdering people in the name of environmental terrorism and in some itterations global genocide. She is not by any means someone a hero should be chill with outside of absolutly desperate situations, and even then she should be the second choice after Swamp Thing.

Harley Quinn: She is literally a psycopath suffering from an obsessive love disorder– that she has done a great deal to overcome– who has no problems maiming, crippling, and killing anyone who gets between her and whatever it is she wants at the moment. At her most ‘restrained’ she is working with Batman to hunt down the Joker– with her intent being to kill him– or is on the Suicide Squad taking some weird comfort in being around equally fucked up people and being assured in the knowledge that her murderous tendencies are being used for some level of ‘good’. She was also a very shitty psyciatrist who in many itterations slept her way into passing college and didn’t even last a full year as a lisenced practitioner before joining the Joker. Yes she is trying to be a better person, but she is NOT by any means a good person.

Black Canary: I think the thing I dislike most about how people treat Black Canary is that they hyperfixate on the pseudo-mom characteristics and emergency therapist role she was given in the Young Justice cartoon. I’ll admit that I haven’t read a ton of her comics, but I HAVE read some and I have watched the Justice League Unlimited cartoon as well. With that in mind I feel like people are tragically focusing on the wrong parts of her personality. She is shown to be stand offish, headstrong, confrontational, brash, and manipulative. She isn’t hero-mom coded, she is a femm fatal back street brawler who is fully open to playing off her allies ego to make them do what she wants if she can and leveraging her power and skill at violence to get what she wants. Yes she is a hero and yes she has a softer side, but god damn!

Wonder Woman: This actually goes for all Amazons of Themyscira but here it goes. Wonder Woman grew up in an extremely isolationist, xenophobic, and misandrist (Even if you ignore the run that said the island’s inhabitants are all literal murdering rapists who drown babies. I don’t think that run has been canon for a while anyways.) island nation that was literally blessed by the gods to never have to deal with things like political upheavals, drought, famine, foreign relations, or any other complexaties that real countries have to deal with. Now, to her credit, Wonder Woman isn’t NEARLY as bad as some of her countrywomen, but that doesn’t mean her upbrining hasn’t influenced her worldview and she certainly has never condemned the policies of her nation. She doesn’t treat men as scum outright by any means, but she DOES ignore the shortcomings of women and sees most if not all the troubles of the world as being the fault of the male sex. Just because the woman is empathic does not mean she isn’t a bitch. Also, base Wonder Woman would and has been dogged by base Superman many times. She is maybe the fourth or fifth most powerful JL member goes by base state abilities behind Superman, Martian Manhunter, Shazam, and maybe the Flash. That said, there are forms of Wonder Woman who would make all other base state JL members look like preschoolers pretending to be tough.

Jazz Fenton: Jazz is not a good psychologist or therapist in her teenage years. If you want to age her into her mid-twenties or later after she goes through a proper program, then by all means make her better at helping people with mental and emotional issues. But as a teen she is god aweful at those things. There is a grand total of ONE instance where she showcases actual skill at being able to pin down and identify someone’s issues and that was with Freakshow, whom in that very conversation she admits to having grown up with many of the same feelings he did regarding envy of ghosts and the attention people in her life give them. She never figured out Danny was a hero due to her skill at psychology or determining the cause of his stress, she stumbled onto him transforming after days or even weeks of forcing herself into his business and him asking and then demanding her to leave him alone. Not only this but, and I feel like this should be a very big thing with how much people love to shoehorn in trans-Danny stuff, she routinely calls people by the wrong name even when corrected by others and is told to her face by the people she is misnaming that she is wrong. Some of her names are even dehumanizing like calling Skulker ‘Ghost X’ like he’s nothing but a test subject!

Also, while I’m pretty sure she would qualify as a skilled CQC fighter, I don’t think she ever improved her aim. So while having her judo throw someone or deck them in the schnoz is good, she would probably miss if she had to shoot anyone with a Fenton Blaster at anything further than point blank range. And no, the Peeler doesn’t count, that shit was a full on mechsuit and shots that had a margin of error bigger than a car.

Valerie Grey: This one is a big one for me and probably the big reason I wanted to write this entire section so here it goes:

Valerie Grey ain’t SHIT as a hero.

Now, as a character, she is perfectly fine. She has a full arc with reasonable and understandable reactions to various events that shape her growth as a character. Granted these events make her into a shoot-first, speciesist, possibly slur-throwing, self-righteous, asshole for a while (you know how the ACAB movement sees cops? That was Valerie for a long time, just without government backing and with an oligarch sponsor instead.) but she did eventually get better after the whole thing with Dani and finding out that Vlad is Plasmious. So again, as a character she is good.

As a HERO however, she is really freaking bad. We never really see her do anything major after her revelation with Dani and before that she never actually wins any fights. Danny is always so far out of her league in fights that the only reason she isn’t dead is because he knows who she is under the mask and holds back because he doesn’t want to hurt her. He was capable of blowing up her original suit in a single blast for crying out loud! And even in her second suit he barely had any trouble keeping pace with her WHEN HE WAS ACTIVLY TRYING NOT TO HURT HER! We also never see her defeat any named ghost, I barely remember her even fighting anyone other than Danny, and she is overall just fodder as far as combat goes.

She isn’t scary, she isn’t intimidating, she isn’t the type of girl who could ‘kick Danny’s ass’, she is at best a pissed off woman with a lot of guns and fancy gadgets who thinks she's hot shit despite never winning a significant fight. 

Heroes are friends with all the Rogues… Except Joker:

Just… why? Why do people want the heroes to be friends with mass-murdering nutjobs? Be it Danny with Ivy who is basically Undergrowth with tits and a pulse, or Tucker with Technus, or Tim Drake with Harley Quinn it doesn’t make any sense! This isn’t a case of ‘Oh, when they aren’t on the job they are cool people’ like with Flash’s rogues. Nor do they have admirable moral codes or anything else. That kind of stuff is exclusive to Flash’s gallery. Why does everyone write hero or retired Danny as being friendly with villains and thinking they are cool people?! Killer Crock has a tragic backstory but he EATS PEOPLE. Scarecrow makes stuff you could call ghost drugs but he conducts routine chemical weapon attacks on civilian populations! Deathstroke is a pedo or groomer in at least two major timelines! Ra’s runs a cult that kills its OWN MEMBERS whenever they fail near-impossible tasks! Just because they aren’t as full on 24/7 creepy fucker murderers doesn’t mean they are any better than him!

On that note, why do people insist on having Sam idolize Poison Ivy or Jazz admire Harley Quinn? I don’t have a high opinion of Sam and how she goes about her activism and forcing her lifestyle and beliefs on others, but she doesn’t go around drugging people, stealing their money, forcing them to ruin their families, and then killing them! And I like to think that even if Jazz isn’t a good psychologist she would have better taste than to idolize someone who broke a very basic tenant of mental health professionals by getting too attached to her patient and went on to COMMIT MASS MURDER and help TORTURE PEOPLE in an effort of turning on her psychotic boyfriend! 

Hating Superman on Kon-El’s behalf:

I get that this trope stems from season 1 of Young Justice, which I will freely admit is an amazing season of a very good show, but I think people forget a few things: 1, Superman’s hatred/distrust of Conner manifests in avoiding him at all costs, not being rude or badmouthing him or anything of the sort, he just doesn’t want to deal with him and what Conner represents. 2, Superman grows out of his hatred/distrust of Conner in like, a year. It was an initial kneejerk reaction paired with extreme awkwardness and distress, but his stance on his clone-son with Lex does get better. And 3, the one who actually hates clones is Supergirl, Kara Zor-El. She straight up gave Conner his Kryptonian name and told him TO HIS FACE that it meant ‘Abomination in the House of El’. She basically named him a slur and said that was all he was. And as far as I am aware, she never apologizes for this nor does their relationship ever really improve beyond ‘we will work together if we absolutely have to’.

Dani and Dan call Danny ‘mom’ ((CONTENT WARNING: Mentions of SA!!!)):

Okay this one is a bit weird for this rant because I will freely admit that depending on if certain other tropes are used concurrently to this one, it makes sense, but by default I say it doesn’t. Ignoring how Danny is by default and in most cases male, his contribution to the ‘conception’ and gestation of Dani or Dan’s clone body (if you ignore A Glitch In Time and have Dan in his original body, Danny still didn’t do any gestation or anything, but things are admittingly different) only went so far as providing some DNA. Vlad did the whole cultivation thing and making sure the decanting happened safely and all that good, very important, stuff. So wouldn’t Danny be the dad in this scenario? Since the equivalent to a regular birth here would be Danny hitting and quitting with Vlad (que barfing reflex at the thought of Danny/Vlad stuff) purposely getting a baby made without Danny’s knowledge for his own benefit and desire for a child? Even if you go by the more accurate real life correlation to SA, Danny still played a male role here because he didn’t carry/grow the baby/clone.

The only reasons I can see for Danny to be labled the ‘mom’ in this situation are; Danny is more nurturing than Vlad– which by a sexist standard means he’s the maternal one–, Danny was the victim in the unauthorized baby making and is thus in the female role– again, a sexist standard–, or because people think ‘single parent’ and immediately assume ‘single mother’. (To be clear, I know that statistically women suffer all forms of SA far more often than men, which is beyond terrible, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen the other way around as well.)

Now, to be fair, if you are also doing trans-man Danny, none of this holds weight and them calling Danny ‘mom’ could stem from that, or because saying Vlad had a kid with a teenaged trans-man makes Vlad look SO much worse and by calling Danny ‘mom’ they are trying to imply that kind of narrative. Which is not a terrible way of writing a story where Danny, Dani, and Dan all hate Vlad, go for the throat and make him look as bad as possible if that’s your goal. I’m just saying that in the default state of Danny being male and Vlad being the one who looked over the cloning pods, Danny is the dad and Vlad is the mom.