#but i think they ALSO have some of their upbringing rooted in here

[gardenerian]

Nope, sorry. I’m going all in. I want them to do dinner out and the whole shebang. 🤪

Mickey knocked their first anniversary out of the park so I hope Ian decided to embrace all the corny Valentine’s stuff.

Like, I’m thinking Ian making dinner reservations at one of those restaurants that does a special Valentine’s course. A real date with silverware etc etc. Just a good steakhouse or Italian restaurant or something like that.

Also I hope they give each other novelty boxers, cards with sexual innuendos, and chocolate (penis shaped optional).

Maybe one of these bad boys

lmao tidal if i didn't love you so much i would FIND YOU and i would THUMP YOU askjdhf i am the equivalent of this screencap rn

I AM HERE WITH RECEIPTS TO DEFEND MY IDEA THO asdljkhf okay so here's what i said a year ago today and i stand by it!! there is dinner! and gifts! and candy! it's just chill and lowkey and fun and sexy and every good thing they love 🥰 and HERE is my valentine's day 5+1 sdfkh idk why i am so 😤😤😤 about this lmao i think we are all in agreement that they do fun things for valentine's day and that's all i have to say askdfjh except yes they totally stock up on those little chocolate men

[spencewalterreid]

If "I Love You" Was A Promise

Summary: Your mind has been unkind to you as of late, and Spencer picks up on it. He comes over to try to get you to open up.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x GN reader

Category: Angst, Hurt/Comfort

Warnings: very self-deprecating, physical abuse if you squint (reader shoves Spencer), mean!reader but they don't mean it, mental breakdown (like... total meltdown), yelling, no use of y/n, Spencer being a sweetie, I think that's it.

Word count: 3k

Author's Note: I truly do love me some angsty angst. I've been going through a gloomy patch recently and wanted to just write a super self-indulgent comfort fic. enjoy enjoy enjoy

You met Spencer a few months ago at a bookstore and you were quick friends. He’s brilliant, great to talk with, and you like a lot of the same media. However, he also happens to be an FBI profiler, which means he thinks he knows everything about everyone all of the time. You’re getting pretty fucking sick of it. He noticed oh-so-astutely that you were going through some shit, and asked under the cover of a movie night to accompany you to your house. Blindingly naive, you agreed. That’s how you ended up in front of him in a heated argument about your current state of mind.

"I don't know what you want from me, Reid! This isn't any of your goddamn business. Just because I've been distracted doesn't mean you need to give me a fucking house call!" you shout, your hands pulling at your hair to ground yourself. "This has nothing to do with you."

Spencer held up his hands in a placating gesture, his voice calm and measured as he responded. "Okay, let's take a deep breath. I'm not trying to overstep any boundaries here."

He studied your body language intently - the way your hands gripped your hair, the tension in your shoulders. The distraction, the frustration, it was all rooted in something deeper, something that had nothing to do with their current argument.

"Tell me this," Spencer said, his tone gentle yet firm, "is there a pattern to these distractions? Have they been getting worse over time?" He leaned in slightly, his gaze locked onto yours. "Sometimes, it helps to talk things out with someone else. And right now, I'm here to listen."

Spencer was acutely aware of the small, cluttered apartment around him – the scattered books and papers on the coffee table, the faint smell of coffee that lingered in the air. He used the familiarity of the space to center himself, to keep his focus on understanding the root of your distress.

"I'm not here to judge or criticize," he assured you, his voice low and soothing. "I just want to make sure you're okay."

In that moment, Spencer's mind raced with possibilities, trying to piece together what the hell your problem was. Was this distraction tied to a past trauma, a family issue, or something else entirely? As an FBI profiler, he knew that the key to understanding a person's behavior lay in their history, their experiences, their upbringing.

"Talk to me," Spencer encouraged gently, his tone warm yet authoritative. "I'm here to listen. Please?" He held out his hand, a silent offer, and waited for you to open up to him. Yeah, right.

"God, stop being so fucking you for a minute!" you stomp up to him, about 2 feet away, and shove at his chest. "Act like a goddamn human, for once in your life! Would it kill you? Huh?"

Spencer stumbled back from the sudden shove, caught off guard by the contact. His heart raced as he felt the warmth of your hands against his chest, the bloom of dull pain. He was shocked. No one had ever laid hands on him like that before, no one he cared about at least, and especially not you.

He took a deep, shuddering breath, trying to process the surge of emotions that flooded through him. If the breath was meant to keep tears at bay too, then maybe you didn’t need to know that.

"I... I know I'm not always easy to understand," Spencer said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know your mind works differently than most people's. But I'm trying... I'm trying to be here for you, in whatever way I can."

"Stop it!" you shout. "Stop trying to be unaffected. Stop trying to act like my fucking therapist, because you aren't! You... Don't... Know.. Me." you pause between each word, your finger in his face. "Stop trying to fucking profile me. Act like you have any sort of goddamn emotion, for once in your life!"

Spencer flinched as if struck, your finger hovering inches from his face. The harsh words hung heavy in the air between you, a bitter sting he couldn't shrug off like he might an insult from a suspect.

For just a moment, he faltered. He knows he's insecure, it's one of his biggest flaws, but he thinks maybe right now he should be. Maybe he's stepped too far. Maybe this isn't his place.

He shrugs that off just as soon as it comes. This is more important than being polite.

He swallowed hard, feeling the weight of your frustration, your anger, your desperation. It was raw, visceral, a maelstrom of emotion he struggled to comprehend. Slowly, deliberately, he reached up and wrapped his hand around your wrist, gently lowering your finger from his face.

"You're right," he said, his voice low. "I'm not your therapist. I'm not perfect.”

He paused, words careful with his gaze locked onto yours. "But know this... I care about you. More than I can express. And I'm trying.”

Spencer's other hand came up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing gently over the heated skin. "I may not always show it in ways you expect... but I do have feelings. This isn’t fair, you have to know that.” His eyes brim with unshed tears, as if pleading with you to apologize. He sincerely doubted he'd get that, at least right now.

His voice dropped to a whisper. "Tell me what you need. Tell me how to do this, because I’m at a loss.”

"Stop it! Stop, stop, stop!" you scream, pounding at his chest once more before turning to dig your fingernails into your scalp. "God, you're such a fucking asshole! You don't have a goddamn clue what you're talking about. You've only known me for a couple of months! You couldn't possibly-" your voice catches in your throat, but you choke down a sob. You couldn't possibly love me. You firmly remind yourself he did not say that. Why would he?

Spencer stumbled back, his stomach and a twist and head spinning as he absorbed the brutal impact of your fists against his chest. He tries to keep in mind that you aren’t trying to hurt him, you’re just overwhelmed. He’s having a hard time believing it.

He reached out, trying to grab your wrists to still your frantic movements. But you wrenched away, pacing the small room like a caged animal. Spencer stood frozen, watching the scene in front of him, cinematic in its drama.

"Just because I haven't known you long doesn't mean I don't care about you," he interjects, voice tensely controlled. "You don't get to tell me what I feel or don't feel."

He took a step closer, then another, until he stood behind you. Gently, carefully, he placed his hands on your shoulders, warmth seeping into your tight muscles.

"I can't pretend to know everything you've been through. I can't claim to understand what you're going through, especially 'cuz you won't tell me anything," he sighs. "But I see you, or I'm at least trying to. I see the strength in you, the resilience, the courage.” His fingers tighten minimally in support, pausing a moment. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll be damned if I let you face this alone."

That did it.

One sentence, and the dam is breaking. Months of grief, loneliness, and a lifetime of being a last priority come crashing into you all at once. Your knees buckle at the weight of it as sobs wrench your body. "Get out," you demand, but your hands wrap firmly around his arms. "Get out. Please." You shake your head. "Please, Spencer, go home." You press back into him, curling into his warmth. "You're such a fucking dick."

Spencer held on tighter, holding you up with a grip around your waist.

"Okay," he murmured. "Okay, I'll go. If that's what you need."

But he didn't let go. He couldn't. Not yet. Not until he knew you were steady. Not until he knew, without a doubt, that you meant it.

"Tell me this first," he pleaded softly, his cheek pressed against the top of your head. "Tell me you know you're not alone. That you have someone in your corner, no matter what."

His arms tightened, a silent vow. "I know we're not close, I know I'm not always the easiest person to deal with. But I'm trying. I'm trying to be what you need me to be."

He stood there, holding you through your sobs. It impressed you, the resolve of him. It impressed you that he didn’t get pissed, as much as you wanted him to. You aren’t used to gentleness. You’d rather fight than stand in front of someone who’ll just let you cry.

The wails leaving your throat embarrass the living shit out of you, and you know tomorrow you'll hate yourself for it, but right now you’re grateful. "I'm sorry," you cry. "I'm so sorry. So sorry, Spencer." You empty your lungs completely with your sobs, then refill them just to empty them again. "I hate you. I hate you," you repeat, holding his arms with a bruising grip as he gently lowers you onto the floor despite his unrelenting germaphobia. He winces. "I hate you."

The mindfulness applied was the kind he usually reserved for crime scenes. He sat behind you, cradling your trembling body against his chest, one hand rubbing soothing circles on your back as the other held your hand.

"Shh, it's okay," he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. "You don't need to apologize. You don't need to hate anything right now except maybe the hand dealt to you."

He rocked you gently, matching the rhythm of your ragged breaths. "I know you're hurting. I know it’s confusing. But please, don't hate yourself for feeling. Don't hate yourself for needing someone to be here for you."

Spencer's hand slid up to cup your cheek, tilting your face towards his. He thumbed away the tears that fell in steady streams, his own eyes a pool of their own. "Hate me if you need to. I can take it. I can take anything, as long as you're not hating yourself. None of this is your fault."

He leaned in closer, his forehead resting against yours. "You're allowed to feel. You're allowed to break. You're allowed to scream and cry and rage until you have nothing left. And I'll be right here, picking up the pieces, gluing you back together.” He pulled back just enough to watch you for a moment, your cheeks burning ever hotter. “I love you. You know that, don’t you?”

Your breath catches on a hiccup. "Don't say that," you beg. "Please," you sob. "Don't you say that to me. You don't know me, Reid." your voice is totally wrecked, you sound like a toddler throwing a tantrum. "You don't know what you're saying, you-" your breath catches, then another, then another, and then before you know it you’re hyperventilating.

What you didn’t say was, when you say it out loud, it becomes a promise. What you didn’t say was, I trust you. To say that is to make a promise you will not keep. To say that is to promise to break my trust. What you didn’t say was, To say that is to lie.

Spencer felt a surge of panic as your breathing grew rapid and shallow, your body shaking violently in his arms. He tightened his grip, a fierce, protective hold, as if he could physically keep you anchored. A folly effort, but you appreciated it nonetheless.

"Hey, hey, slow down," he urged, his voice calm and steady despite the fear gripping his heart. "You're okay, you're safe. I've got you."

He slid his hand from your cheek to the back of your neck, tilting your head down towards your knees. "That's it, just like that. Breathe with me. In and out. Slow and steady."

"Don't- don't- don't- d-" You tremble like a fucking leaf. Pathetic. You try to calm down enough to say this because you know it needs to be said: "Don't make- make- don't make pr- promi- promises you ca- can't- can't keep."

Spencer’s heart drops. What did he do wrong?

He didn’t quite know what to say, but he made an effort anyway. "You need to breathe, sweetheart. You need to breathe through this, one breath at a time.”

You lean down to softly press your lips against his hand, still shivering. Shaking. "I'm so sorry," you whisper. "I'm sorry. This is so pathetic."

"Hey, hey, none of that," Spencer soothed, turning your face towards his. He brushed away a lingering tear with his thumb, his gaze locked onto your red-rimmed eyes. "Being human isn't pathetic. Feeling, caring, needing... that's what makes you beautifully, perfectly human."

The smile on his face is sad, but genuine. He lays his hand on the side of your head, dragging a thumb across your temple. “I'm here because I want to be. Because I choose to be. Your strength and your vulnerability, they're a part of what draws me to you. Never apologize for being who you are."

"Can you stay?" you whisper feebly. "I mean, you don't-" you hiccup. "Don't feel pressured, of course. You know what?" You force a smile, which appears hopelessly pathetic considering the salt stains marring your cheeks. "I'm actually okay. I'm so okay. You can go home, Spencer. Go get some rest. Sorry." You move to get up, but his hold tightens. He mets your gaze, his voice low and firm. "No. I'm not going anywhere. I told you... I'm staying right here, with you."

He adjusted your position, lying down and gathering you fully into his arms, holding you close against his chest. "Rest now," he murmured, stroking your hair. "I'll be here when you wake up." Spencer pressed a soft kiss to your hair.

You chuckle without any meaning. "Spencer, no. Not on the hardwood floor," you say apologetically, sitting up. "You can take the bed. I'll sleep on the couch. C'mon, get up."

Spencer reinforced his embrace, not letting you pull away as he sat up slowly. He cupped your face in his hands, his thumbs brushing away the last of their tears. "I'm not leaving you alone. End of discussion."

He stood, pulling you up with him, then guided you down the hallway, to your bedroom, then to sit on the edge of the bed beside him. Spencer's arm remained wrapped around your shoulders, a constant, comforting presence.

"I'll sleep here, with you. I won't leave your side." His voice softened, a gentle caress. "Please don't ask me to go, not now. I need to be here for you.”

"Spence-"

"No," he interjects. "No. Lay down. I'm gonna get you some water, I'll be right back."

He pats the bed behind you. Sluggish, you settle back into the plush mattress, encircling yourself in the comforter, dragging it right up to the bottom of your chin. You huff.

Spencer returned a moment later, a glass of water in hand. He set it on the bedside table and looked down at you, sympathy written all over him as he observed your closed eyes and the way you had curled in on yourself, still sniffling in the aftershocks.

Gently, he sat on the edge of the bed, his weight causing it to dip slightly. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his fingertips grazing your cheek. You felt warm, almost feverish.

"Hey, sweetheart..." Spencer's voice was soft, almost a whisper. He leaned in closer, his breath ruffling the hair he had just smoothed. "I know you're not asleep."

His hand slid down to your shoulder, giving a gentle squeeze. "Talk to me. What's going on in that beautiful mind of yours?" Spencer's words were gentle, a nudging request. Not a demand. Never a demand. He wanted to know you were okay, but he wouldn't force it out of you. If you were going somewhere dark, he wanted to follow you with a flashlight in hand, but only if you'd let him.

"Go to bed, Spencer."

Spencer's brow furrowed, stubbornness hard-set on his face. He didn't move from his perch on the edge of the bed, his hand still resting firmly on your shoulder.

"No. You can’t go to bed feeling like this. It could cause nightmares, increased cortisol levels, and I know you’ll have a headache in the morning if you don’t drink water." He took a deep breath, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your shoulder. "Please, talk to me. Let me help carry this burden with you. I'm stronger than I look, I promise."

You smile, your eyes still closed. "You look plenty strong," you reply. "Please, go to sleep. I'm tired."

Spencer's eyes narrowed, not convinced. “Look at me. Please." When you didn't immediately comply, he gently squeezed your shoulder. “I know you're hurting, and I know you’re tired, but you can’t end the night like this.”

He paused, his posture wilting in his frustration.

You open your eyes and roll onto your back. "Drop it, Reid. It's late, I just cried my fucking eyes out, I want to go to bed. Now, either lay your pretty ass down, or go sleep on the couch."

Spencer studied your face, trying to settle the odds with himself. Accepting defeat, he finally relented with a soft sigh. "Fine.”

He slipped off his shoes and climbed into bed beside you, being mindful not to jostle you. Settling onto his back, he turned to face you, a gentle hand coming to rest on your waist. "Goodnight," he murmured, eyes already heavy with fatigue. "Sleep well."

"Can I-" You turn toward him, but shut your mouth before you ask. "Nevermind. Goodnight."

Spencer felt you shift, turning to face him. “No, what were you going to say?”

You hum, trying to decide how to phrase it. “It was nothing.”

“Here,” he offers, lifting the arm nearest you, inviting you to curl into him. He’s always so observant. Despite your thus-short friendship, he knew exactly what you wanted. You complied.

"Sleep well, sweetheart," he repeated, his hand on your waist giving a gentle, comforting squeeze. "I'll be right here when you wake."

[warblogs17282]

I'm busy thinking about the fact that we can see how a lot of the conflict between Stolas and Octavia has roots in the unhealthy family dynamics brought on in Stolas' childhood.

Mainly inspired from a quote I heard from someone reacting to the episode, that being something along the lines of "Fucked up parents create fucked up children.", and tbh, I can kinda see that with Stolas and Octavia.

Also, let's get one other thing out of the way as well, the family dynamic Stolas and Octavia had before Blitz came into his life was never healthy at all.

The line 'You have always been the only good thing in my life!' hits really hard for a few reasons, with one of them being because it shows that before Blitz came into his life, Octavia was practically Stolas' whole life. Which naturally is not healthy for either of them, while your child is a very significant and important part of your life, they should still not be literally your entire life.

And well, Stolas being like that makes sense, you can see roots of that within Stolas' isolated childhood and upbringing, the only person Stolas had as a friend was Blitz when he was a child, and even then, they didn't see each other again for the next 25 years, leaving Stolas with basically no one else, no other friends to talk to, etc.

And you can see that manifest itself into the family dynamics between Stolas and Octavia, because Stolas has no social life at all outside of the family, and his family, which as a result, leads to Octavia being practically Stolas' whole world, as shown by that line he said.

The line is also quite interesting as well, because in one side, we have Octavia being practically Stolas' whole world, but I also believe the vice versa of that line is true as well.

Which I suppose is the segway into the section of what happens when an imp comes along and absolutely shatters that unhealthy family dynamic.

Something the show has made clear is that a lot of Octavia's life has also revolved around Stolas, which makes sense, but the issue here is that I'm pretty sure that almost all of Octavia's life revolved around Stolas or the family in some way, as I'm pretty sure that this also leads us to a conclusion that Octavia has no support system at all, no actual friends, etc. Which is something that we recognize is quite similar to Stolas, as he also had no support system, no friends, etc, until he met Blitz at that fateful party.

Especially if we consider the fact that Stella is both a neglectful and abusive parent, so it's not like Octavia had the support of both parents here, Octavia only had the support and attention of Stolas her entire upbringing and childhood.

You all remember the "so that girl could live a normal life" comment Stolas made in s2 e1? I believe that this family dynamic is exactly what Stolas was referring to when he said that, Stolas also believed that the family dynamic at play was a normal and healthy thing for the child, when it was anything but.

Which brings us into the events after Blitz came into Stolas' life, when that the family dynamics Stolas was referring to with that 'normal life' comment were completely shattered.

The family dynamics bring up something interesting to me about Octavia, I feel like her upbringing and childhood is also part of the reason as to why she feels like Stolas has abandoned and replaced her with Blitz, why she struggles to understand the fact that Stolas can care for and love Blitz a lot, while also caring for and loving her a lot as well.

Obviously there's more to the situation to it than just this, there's other things like Stolas failing to properly explain the situation and other things that Octavia really should've known, to give an example. But at the same time, I still can't help but think that all of this has roots in the unhealthy family dynamics between them that got shattered when Blitz entered Stolas' life.

And well, it was Octavia's lack of knowledge about the situation that led to her coming to the conclusions she did, such as the conclusions she came to when she found the happy pills, for example.

Octavia's song also makes something else clear, that she used to think that him and Stella had a happy marriage until Blitz arrived in his life, and we know that the reason Octavia used to think that is because of Stolas hiding the abuse he suffered to give Octavia a 'normal life', which as I've stated before, this 'normal life' also included the unhealthy family dynamics between them, the same one where Stolas' entire life revolved around Octavia and the family, and vice versa for Octavia.

Which is the main reason why I believe that the unhealthy family dynamics is a part of the reason of why Octavia said and did what she did this episode, because Blitz actually started the transition into healthier family dynamics, with those being Stolas finally getting the courage to get the divorce, and Stolas having someone in his life outside of the family, no longer having Octavia and Stolas' family quite literally be all that there is to his life.

But here's the thing, because of Octavia's unintentionally lonely upbringing with the unhealthy family dynamics she doesn't know the full situation of, I don't think she recognizes that it is not healthy for the parent or the child for their entire world to be centered around their child plus the family, and vice versa. Plus for the same reasons and a bit more, I don't think she properly recognizes that Stolas can love and care for both Blitz and Octavia a lot at the same time.

As I have stated before, we point to multiple other reasons as to why Octavia behaved, said and believes in what she did, such as her feeling abandoned and replaced by Blitz, and I definitely agree with you all on that Stolas is nowhere near entirely innocent in this whole situation for multiple reasons, but at the same time, I still believe that at least part of this reason why has something to do with Octavia's upbringing, and the unhealthy family dynamics associated with said upbringing, which has roots in Stolas' extremely isolated and lonely upbringing.

Just to be clear, I am not blaming Octavia for anything here, and I am also not hating on Stolas for choosing to be happy with Blitz as well, while I have stated multiple times that Stolas did indeed fuck-up on multiple occasions, I am still not choosing a side here regarding the whole situation. I will not accept any Stolas or Octavia slander, as I have stated multiple times by now.

[menop033]

Some random and unimportant thoughts on the name of Cassandra Cain, mostly pertinent to Post-Crisis:

Her first name, Cassandra, is a direct reference to the Oracle of Troy. The pretty known fact about her is that she spoke true prophecies but was never to be believed. It was already discussed that this, indeed, ties into Cain's difficulty with speech and communication and being understood by literally anyone that's not the world's most dangerous assassin who presumably hardly cares about her. No new revelations here, I am afraid.

In a novelization of the event No Man's Land by Greg Rucka (a really good book, by the way, I can only recommend it), the name 'Cassandra' was given to her by Barbara Gordon, who called herself Oracle, so she kind of named her after herself in more than one way (Cassandra and Batgirl). She may have had some issues projecting herself into her later on in Batgirl (2000), it is not that important but it should be noted. Later on, it was revised to be a name given to her by her biological mother, Lady Shiva, naming her after both herself and her deceased sister (Sandra and Carolyn). I am not sure whether I agree with that choice.

Cassandra, the prophetess, was admired and given a gift by Apollo, and when his love wasn't reciprocated, he decided to curse her as well. Cass Cain was given a 'gift' by her father, David, the harsh martial arts training, being able to see intent and predict movements by seeing the tiniest changes in a body language, and she was, too, 'cursed' by him in the communication department, her not being even spoken to, not being taught how to speak. Also, David had an unhealthy admiration towards her, as he saw her as his greatest triumph, weapon. But he didn't even give her the space to betray him, unlike Apollo in the Greek myth, dooming her from the start.

Although etymologically it is unexplained, there are a few theories that I think are rather interesting and could be relevant. It has been connected to a word kekasmai which means "to surpass, to excel", which is precisely what Cass feels the need to be, what she thinks she should be, as per her upbringing with David Cain. The other proposed roots would fit much more with Barbara Gordon's Oracle, though.

As for her surname, Cain, it comes from the Bible. Cain was the firstborn of two first people on the earth, Adam and Eve, and was basically the first killer, after the fact forever marked with a mark of Cain, forced to wander. This pretty closely resembles how once Cass killed, she ran away, wandering for a (long) while and definitely believing, that she is forever 'marked' by what she had that, irredeemable.

And… as for sources, it's basically all wikipedia or fandom wiki. It's a Tumblr post, not a dissertation.

So yeah, her name is fitting, cool and kind of edgy. But the whole character is cool and kind of edgy. With the all-black suit and clothing. And black lipstick, obviously.

[maybe-boys-do-love]

Spare Me Your Mercy from the outset has tied the acceptance of death with the acceptance of queerness. Many of the critiques of the show have missed this connection or its significance, which goes a long way to explain their complaints about the series. Dr. Kan, the character most accepting of death is also the most overtly gay and unashamed to act on it. The director prioritized life even if the patient was suffering, and in line with that, he, himself in the closet, experiences life as constant suffering.

The rural setting heightens these stakes and commentary. We can see it most in Detective Thiu, who returns to his small hometown with trepidation after escaping to the city. He followed the typical gay narrative from the supposedly backwards country to the ‘enlightened’ city, what Jack Halberstam coined as "metronormativity," where he could realize the true expression of himself. Now, forced to return to the rural space, we see Thiu in all his interactions internally contending with the true extent of his city-born self-acceptance. Some reviewers on here fail to appreciate the weight of his struggle. One reviewer in particular, whose work in the fandom I greatly appreciate, nevertheless has a history of reviewing actors' performances and "chemistry" poorly when the characters are wrestling against their internalized homophobia. I, however, find Thiu's immensely compelling and relatable as a queer person with strong rural ties.

With Thiu, SMYM seems to lead us toward a similiar perspective to Halberstam and others (Imma provide a reading list below), who criticize the dangerous individualism of the metronormative narrative. In the third episode, the show depicts an indigenous perspective toward death, practices with roots preceding commercially-bred urbanization. These roots, more so in Thailand than perhaps any other nation in the world but also in a multitude of indigenous cultures across the globe, draw forth indigenous traditions of queerness and gender variation.

An exchange evoking the parallels of accepting death and queerness occurs between Kan and Thiu in response to the rituals. "Their belief up here is that death is like moving from an old home to a new home." The detective replies, "That's a nice way to think about it. When you die, you don't have to end up in hell like the rest of us." This line, whether in the context of a Thai Buddhist hell or the Christian one (inviting any Thai language folks or people more familiar with the culture to add their expertise here!), reveals Thiu's pervasive sense of shame, inflecting his view of himself and distrust of others, contrasting with Kan and the beliefs indigenous to the place where he grew up.

While the indigenous rituals suggest how Thiu might have avoided shame if he had remained more connected to his rural upbringing, SMYM depicts myriad reasons the town's culture, specifically the practices of those men in authority positions, condemned that possibility. The director of the hospital and the police enforce de jure expectations for heterosexuality alongside their de facto enforcement of regulations against euthanasia. As this post about the show's theme from @respectthepetty points out, "life should not be a punishment for the living," but life as a punishment was the set condition Thiu must've been raised within.

While the plot might be asking about who's the murderer and how will they be caught and punished, for me, the question beating under it all like a heart that can't let go is where Thiu's mother sat on this scale regarding acceptance. She's the key that could open the door for Thiu to find queer peace in his hometown. His ability to process how she felt about him and how he felt about her will determine his ability to be himself in relation to where he came from rather than as a rejection of it.

For me, this show's music, cinematography, editing tempo, plotting, and performances all lend it a familiarity with the western crime-thriller genre that make it a great recommendation for BL first-timers in the Anglo sphere . It's easily comparable to Mare of Easttown, Broadchurch, True Detective, or Silence of the Lambs, (Asian thrillers, too, I assume, but others could write better about that than I) while delivering queer love and acceptance in rural spaces at the forefront of its story and philosophical musings. I personally recommend ignoring the misrepresentative criticism. SMYM constantly reiterates the ways relenting to someone else's authority might keep one from the types of agency and connection that make the experiences of life and death, no matter where you are, gay and fulfilling.

Queer Rural Reading List for those interested

Short Digital Reads:

Metronormativity by Maxwell Cloe

Metronormativity Is Dangerous for LGBTQIA+ People's Health and Well-Being by Alexander Martin

Rural Queer History: Hidden in Plain Sight by Anya Petrone Slepyan for The Daily Yonder (a great resource for progressive rural news in the US)

LGBTI Families in Rural Thailand by Bruce Bonta

Thailand LGBT Outside of Bangkok reddit thread (grain of salt and all, but still interesting)

Books:

In a Queer Time and Place: Transgender Bodies, Subcultural Lives by Jack Halberstam

Reclaiming Two-Spirits: Sexuality, Spiritual Renewal & Sovereignty in Native America by Gregory D. Smithers

Visibility Interrupted: Rural Queer Life and the Politics of Unbecoming by Carly Thompsen

Another Country: Queer Anti-Urbanism by Scott Herring

Farm Boys: Lives of Gay Men from the Rural Midwest by Will Fellows

Men Like That: A Southern Queer History by John Howard

Lonely Hunters: An Oral History of Lesbian and Gay Southern Life, 1948-1968 by Jamie T. Sears

Queering the Countryside: New Frontiers in Rural Queer Studies, ed. Gray, Johnson, Gilley

Out in the Countryside: Youth, Media, and Queer Visibility in Rural America by Mary L. Gray

Real Queer America: LGBT Stories from Red States by Samantha Allen

Gay Faulkner: Uncovering a Homosexual Presence in Yoknapatawpha and Beyond by Phillip Gordon

[deadpcnned]

Sealed by the Storm (jj.m)

chapter four

pairing: jj maybank x reader; marriage of convenience

content warning(s): references to mommy issues (reader), references to loss of a parent (reader), angst

author's note: i'm so so sorry it's taken so long to get this chapter up. it ended up being a bit harder than i expected. thank you for your patience! just a little warning i will be changing the pov in this series to 2nd person (working on fixing the other parts).

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When the Pogues were dividing the Maybank Property, you didn’t get closet space. Your room was an extra storage closet with just enough room to fit a twin bed, a mirror you’d mounted on the wall, and a small nightstand with two drawers. When you first arrived at the Outer Banks, after El Dorado, you had nothing except literally the clothes on your back, so you didn’t see the point in arguing for more space. Since the OBX has become your home, you’ve gotten more things– usually, having to ask Cleo to put some of your clothing in her and Pope’s closet– but not enough because you can’t find anything white right now. Not even jeans. Sarah had insisted that if you didn’t wear white, the whole thing would seem rushed– more rushed than it already seemed– and that every part of this production had to appear genuine. 

You’re still trying to figure out how Cleo convinced you to get married. When you left all the Pogues on the porch last night, there was no way you were going to marry JJ. It wasn’t just about JJ. Your unstable upbringing jaded your view on many things, and love was probably one of them. You didn’t doubt that love was real, and the last two years had taught you that it existed in abundance. But love was temporary, with a shelf life that only lasted until one party found something more important to stick their heart to. You haven’t given it much thought, to be honest, what you think of love now that you’ve found this version of a home. It seems contradictory to concern yourself with something as fleeting as love when you’ve finally stopped defining your life by trying to survive day-to-day. Instead, you’ve focused on the other relationships in your life. For the first time, in maybe ever, you have friends, plural. Loyal and lively friends. You also have adults who care about you without expecting something in return. You can show up at the Heywards’ door at an ungodly hour, and they won’t blink an eye. 

While you haven’t thought about love since settling down, you know exactly how you feel about marriage. 

Marriage isn’t just soft-spoken promises of I love you and forever; it is a transaction, a business deal and a power struggle made to look pretty with red ribbons of romance and confident vows of companionship. You had seen it yourself, watched as the winning smiles of the person you loved most had only ever been disarming grins all along. Marriage hadn’t stopped your mother from betraying your family, nor had it shielded you from pain. No, it had been the weapon your mother used to get exactly what she’d always wanted, even more than her daughter. It didn’t matter if the union is built on love because marriage is the issue's root. The legal entanglement makes people greedy, leaving their spouses a casualty of the games.

You don’t know how you feel about love, but you know that marriage is a trap you never expected to find yourself in. Yet, here you are, about to fall off the precipice of the very thing you fear. You are going to permit another person to pull you into this game by signing off on a dotted line. And you weren’t even in love. 

You find a beige skirt buried deep in a drawer of your nightstand and figure it’s close enough to white. You begin looking for a shirt when you hear a short knock followed by the door opening. Sarah walks in with her hair wrapped in a green towel, holding something in her hands. 

“You know,” You say, plopping down on your bed, relieved for this break from looking for an outfit. “Usually, people wait for a response when they knock.”

Sarah smiles, sitting on the bed and bumping her shoulder against yours. “Force of habit. I always used to barge into Wheezie’s.” Sarah’s expression is some mix of fondness and longing that makes you want to squeeze the girl who has become like a sister to you. Instead, you just slip your hand into Sarah’s and gave it a light squeeze. If you stop to acknowledge every unfair thing life dealt all of you, you would never get anything done. Sarah nods at your other hand, where the beige skirt is balled in a fist. “No luck finding anything white?”

You shake your head with a groan. “No. It’s fine. Beige is close enough.”

“It is so not fine,” Sarah’s exasperation is completely unnecessary in your opinion, but you let her continue. “If we want to make all this believable, every detail counts. A girl marrying the love of her life would care that beige is not white.”

You give Sarah a sarcastic smile. “What about girls marrying a friend they can sometimes tolerate?” Sarah’s smile matches yours, but a line forms between her brows. 

“Hey, why are you stressing?” You reach up to smooth out the divot. “I’m the one getting married.” 

“No, it’s not that,” Sarah lets her denial sit between you two, not immediately offering any explanation. Her lips purse sideways, her brows furrowing further, a telltale sign that she is having difficulty keeping something to herself. Just as you expect, Sarah breaks without any additional pushing from you. “It’s just that… why are you so hard on JJ?”

“Are you seriously asking me that, Sar?” You roll your eyes, getting up from the bed. You walk towards your nightstand, training your focus on folding the useless skirt and putting it back in the bottom drawer. 

“Yeah, actually,” Sarah’s voice is serious, a tone she seldom uses. Unleashing her hair from the towel, Sarah throws it at your nightstand. “I am.” 

It only takes a minute for the skirt to be put neatly away, leaving you nothing to avoid Sarah and this conversation. You turn to face Sarah, whose eyebrows were now raised instead of furrowed. 

“Sarah, it’s like you guys forget everything he’s done.”

“Of course we haven’t forgotten, but we forgave him. That’s what friends do.” 

“You can’t forgive someone who hasn’t apologized,” You argue.

Sarah shakes her head, her eyes shifting to the ceiling as if she is in deep thought. “JJ…” Sarah trails off again, seemingly unable to explain herself. “He’s not good with words—”

You cut Sarah off with a scoff and cross your arms across your chest. “JJ is amazing with his words. He can get himself out of anything.” 

“That’s not what I mean,” Sarah’s tone, while it remains serious, doesn’t match yours. She remains calm as she continues. “I used to get annoyed too, you know? When I first started dating John B, we were all so caught up in the Denmark treasure, but after a while, I noticed the same things you do. He was always getting caught up in some shit he’d start, and all of us somehow ended up stuck with him in whatever web he’d spun.” 

JJ and Sarah resemble siblings in more than appearances; they often fight just like you assume normal siblings would. Fights over things like the rules of a board game or stolen leftovers usually end at the beginning of wrestling matches, that John B has to stop by physically removing Sarah from the room. However, you have yet to see Sarah genuinely upset with JJ. The Pogues never really fight, so Sarah’s lack of anger isn’t out of the ordinary, but you could never picture a time when Sarah had felt differently about him. It could be how Sarah compensates for the loss of her siblings, but despite only being a few months older than JJ, she smothers him with the sisterly love Cleo gives you. 

“Yeah,” Sarah chuckles, reading the disbelief on your features. “But then there was this day after my dad died…the first time,” Sarah cringes as she says it, and you try your best to keep your face neutral because what were your lives? Sarah’s voice changes, looking down at her hands as she continues. “His death had put JB and me in a weird place. I needed him to understand my grief, but to him, the man who’d taken his father from him was dead. At that point, I was sort of still just his girlfriend. Kie and I had just started talking about our history. JJ and Pope had no loyalty to me.

“But JJ snuck onto Tannyhill just to see if I was okay. Brought some flowers he’d picked from our yard and everything. He hated Ward almost as much as John B, but he still showed up for me. I remember Rafe almost caught him cause JJ had tripped the security alarm, and I had to convince him it must’ve been a fluke. That’s who he is. He makes mistakes, just like us, but he shows up. Sometimes more than the rest of us.” 

You don’t know what to say in response. JJ supporting Sarah is sweet, but it isn’t unexpected. You know how fiercely he shows up for the Pogues, and you undoubtedly admire that about him. It doesn’t change the fact that he is impulsive, and it seems like his impulsivity is reaching a point of no return. 

“Sarah, It’s not that I don’t know JJ’s a good guy. I do,” You sit down next to the blonde. “But that doesn’t change the fact that we’re still getting caught in the web.”

“People make mistakes, Y/N/N. The rest of us have, and you’ve always forgiven us. What’s so different about JJ’s mistakes?” You don’t need to think of your answer. 

“This is all I have.” 

“The shop?” Sarah asks. 

You shake your head, the nape of your neck heating up as the cost of being vulnerable. “You. The Pogues.” You will yourself not to let your voice shake. To you, every wrong decision JJ makes threatens the Pogues’ chances of staying together. This family that has somehow fallen into your lap— a gift after years of misfortune— seems to be hanging by a thread recently. 

Sarah’s expression softens, and you could laugh at the speed with which your friend’s eyes fill with tears. With all her cheek and confidence, Sarah is still the softest person you know. 

“Then you and JJ are more alike than you think,” Sarah says simply. She quickly brushes the tears that have fallen and clears her throat. “Sorry. I didn’t come in here to berate you. I came to bring you this.” Sarah reaches back on the bed, where she’d dropped the black bag she’d walked in with. It’s a garment bag. Sarah stands from the bed and unzips the bag in her hands. 

“I stole this one of the times I snuck into Tannyhill… is it called stealing if it’s literally yours?” Sarah’s usual cheer appears to have returned, and no trace of your earlier conversation is left. “Anyway, it’ll definitely do the trick.” 

Sarah carefully pulls a mess of white fabric from her bag. The dress, in true Sarah Cameron fashion, is gorgeous. It has a drop-waist silhouette that will hug the body perfectly before flaring into a soft skirt. The skirt is covered by a delicate, thin layer of netting that compliments the suggestive top half with a whimsical touch. The outline of flowers are scattered across the skirt, only enhancing the graceful look. Instead of sleeves, the dress is held together by thin, dainty straps, and the dress will likely end a little above your ankles, making it the perfect blend of romantic and laid-back.  

Simply put, the dress is beautiful. 

“You stole this? When the hell were you going to need--” You stop speaking as you are hit with the obvious. Sarah's reason for initially buying this dress doesn’t matter, because it’s glaringly obvious why she deemed it necessary to take and bring back to your house. “No way. I’m not wearing this.”

“Why not? It’s the perfect elopement dress,” Sarah whines, holding it against your frame. 

You push the dress away from your body. “Yeah, for you. It’s your elopement dress.”

“John B. and I are already married,” Sarah shrugs. 

“Sarah.” 

Sarah rolls her eyes. “Fine, yes, I stole this to wear when JB and I get legally married, but it’s fine! I’ll buy another dress when that time comes. This was originally gonna be my midsummer’s backup. It’s nothing fancy.”

“This is your backup?”  You ask, only receiving a shrug from Sarah. “Sar, why would you give me this for a sham wedding? It’s such a waste.”

“I don’t feel like it would be,” Sarah responds. Cryptic…

“And why not?”

“Does it matter? Look, you have nothing else to wear, and we have to leave in an hour,” Sarah huffs. “Just think of me as your fairy godmother and accept the miracle.” 

“Sar—” Just as you are going to protest another time, the door opens again. Cleo walks in, a bag of chips in one hand. 

“You ready yet,” Cleo mumbles around the chips she is chewing. After taking in your appearance, she sighs and swallows before speaking again. “Why are you not ready yet?” 

“Cause there’s still an hour.” Why are they all acting like this is a real wedding? It doesn’t matter how you look as long as you sign the damn papers. “I was about to change.” You look over at Sarah, who has a knowing smile on her face, and you groan. “Give me that.” 

“Careful!” Sarah chastises as you grab the dress out of her hands. Walking towards the door, you open it with a tilt of your head to indicate the other two should get out. 

“Since when do you care about privacy when you change?” Cleo asks, slumping against your bed.

“Just give me a minute.” When she realizes you are being serious, she makes eye contact with Sarah and finally gets up to leave. Once the other two girls have left, you sit on the bed, your bedding a bit crumpled from all the movement it has just endured. This is it. After you put on this dress, you will sign off the rights to your life. You know that logically, you have until you sign the dotted line, but putting on this dress is like putting up a white flag and admitting that you surrender to this convoluted plan and being tied to JJ indefinitely.  

You let your shorts and crop top fall to the floor, replacing the clothing on your body with the dress. Looking in the mounted mirror on your wall, you can only see your reflection from the chest up. It gives you that familiar itch to curl into yourself. You look so much like your mother like this. In a fancy dress, your hair still pulled up from when you’d tied it back. It was so poised and elegant, a look you desperately wanted to pull off as a kid but wanted nothing to do with now. Yet, even with all the comparisons you can draw between yourself and your mother, you can’t deny it makes you feel pretty. Even just the top half of the dress fits you so well, and it makes you nostalgic for a time when pretty dresses were your only worry. 

Taking just a minute longer before you let Cleo and Sarah back in, you pull your hair down. Your hair spills over your shoulders, softening your features and making you look younger. You aren’t ready to look that much like your mother. 

Sarah had insisted on getting you fully ready for today’s events. You were no stranger to makeup but usually you stuck to mascara and concealer. Sarah had pulled out all the stops. While keeping your base relatively simple, she’d added blush, lipstick, and even eyeliner to “give the full effect.” She had even pulled your hair back up into a bun, and as much as you wanted to fight against it, you figured avoiding the mirror would be easier than arguing.

The Pogues had created a plan for the entire day to try to convince the residents of Kildare that the nuptials between you and JJ were as true as the sky was blue. John B and Sarah would accompany you and JJ to the courthouse to handle your ruse's legal and most crucial component, while the rest of the Pogues would set up a “surprise” reception in the Heywards’ backyard. The reception had been Pope’s idea because, according to him, his parents were too close to JJ and you to not need the extra convincing that this whole thing was real. You had doubts that Pope was just finding ways to make this more entertaining for himself. 

Once Sarah and Cleo had finished helping you get ready, you’d decided to stop by the charter shack. JJ was, unsurprisingly, nowhere to be found, and you had some time to kill before heading to the courthouse. Initially, you’d wanted to find Kie. Whatever connection Kie and JJ had wasn’t lost on you, and you’d been overthinking your very much overdue conversation since last night. Even though you didn’t feel like you were wronging Kiara, since from what you’d gathered, JJ and Kie weren’t anything serious, it still felt like you owed her some form of acknowledgment. When you’d asked Cleo if she’d seen Kiara, she had let you know that Kiara had gone to her parent’s house a bit earlier, making it impossible for you to have that conversation. 

Instead, you figure you’ll take the time to be alone. It’s what you always do when you can’t process your emotions. Is it the healthiest coping mechanism? No. But at least you know you do it. The shack is the closest you can get to quiet in a house with six other roommates, so you’re headed that way. As you climb the familiar footsteps, you think of the last time you’d been here. It had only been two days, but that night with JJ feels like a lifetime ago. You’d somehow compartmentalized discovering Ligthner’s body, becoming an accessory to a crime, and being questioned by the police in a way that anything before it all felt like a distant memory. 

“That’ll be 3.99,” JJ’s voice snaps you out of your thoughts as you stand by the shack's open door. JJ stands behind the register in his usual uniform of cargo shorts and a graphic tee. He reaches out his hand to a middle-aged man, not noticing that you are standing there to witness his interaction. 

JJ divies up the change before sticking out his hand to offer it to the patron, “Here you are, sir–” At that moment, JJ looks to his side, immediately doing a double take when he sees you. He falters, missing the customer’s hand entirely and spilling the change against the counter and the floor. The polite smile that JJ had worked to perfect slips off his face, his lips parting and his eyes clouding over. You can’t decipher the storm brewing in his eyes, but it sends a flutter through your belly as you meet his stare. The movement of the customer scramming to pick up the dropped change, which JJ had dealt in a comical amount of coins, catches your attention, but when you look back at JJ, he is still looking at you. With a heat that seems to burn right through you straight to your spine. 

“JJ,” you whisper, drawing his eyes from where they had been trailing down your figure and back to your face. You shift your head towards the man crouched to gather the fallen change. JJ seems to finally return from wherever his mind had ended up and quickly rounds the corner. 

“I-I’m sorry, sir,” JJ says, crouching to help. “That was an accident,” He apologizes again as he hands the last of the change back to its rightful owner. 

“Don’t worry,” the man winks. “I’ll get out of your hair.” He gives you a knowing look that makes you flush as he passes and leaves the shack. If he only knew. 

“Hey,” JJ mumbles, the heat in his eyes subdued. “You’re ready?

“We’re supposed to leave in twenty minutes,” you reply. “Sarah was getting restless. I think she just sees this as an opportunity to play dress-up.”

JJ chuckles, moving closer to you. “Yeah, I think John B’s choosing which one of his button-ups I’m gonna wear right now.” JJ’s eyes begin to trail back down your body, his tracking slow and that cloudy look returning to his eyes.“You look…” 

You try your best to ignore how his throat bobs when he swallows, unable to fill the gap in his words. The pooling nerves in your stomach spread, moving dangerously low. That feeling isn’t good– not now, not with him.

“Like a bride?” You try to joke, but it comes out breathy and wrong. 

JJ attempts to laugh, but it is more like a sharp exhale. Suddenly, his hand reaches behind your head, gripping the elastic band holding your hair in place. In a swift movement, he pulls your hair free of its constraints, and it falls in waves over your shoulders.  

“Better,” He whispers, and you feel an unfamiliar ache in your chest. Whatever peculiar reaction JJ is having to seeing you in a white dress needs to be stopped. 

Clearing your throat, you speak up. “You think this’ll fool everyone?”

That does the trick because JJ chuckles before pulling his arm back. “Between this and the three-act play Sarah’s putting on for the Island, we should be in the clear.” You laugh, agreeing with him. 

“What are you doing out here anyway? I figured we’d keep the shop closed today,” You ask, grabbing a Snickers bar from a shelf. 

JJ snatches the Snickers bar from your hands, ignoring your protests. “I figured I’d keep the shop open for a bit. You were right before about us needing the business.” You don’t say anything; you watch as JJ tears into the chocolate bar. Eventually, he passes the bar back to you with a shit-eating grin. 

Narrowing your eyes, you take the bar back. Then, you tore a piece of Snickers off and plop it in your mouth. After a few minutes, neither you nor JJ move to leave, and you speak up again. “Are you ready for this?”

JJ laughs humorlessly, “As ready as I’ll ever be.”

You rub your lips together, unsure how much you want to give away what is running through your head. JJ is the only other person who can relate to you, but being vulnerable is never easy. JJ’s expression changes, his eyes softening.  

“I’m scared, too,” JJ says. You want to argue, convince him that you aren’t scared. You want to make him think that you are angry and annoyed and displeased beyond belief because admitting you are scared means admitting there is something with enough power to take you down. You stay silent. You can’t bring yourself to lie to him, but instead, you feel yourself move closer to him. You don’t say anything, just let your invasion of his space speak for itself. JJ continues for you.

“I’m worried that all of this’ll be for nothing. We’ll get caught, and it’ll just make the inevitable worse.” Too lost in understanding the look in his eyes, you don’t notice JJ reaching out until his hand catches ahold of yours. For the fiftieth time in three days, JJ touches you like you’re his, his thumb stroking your fingers, and it’s getting harder not to let it make you dizzy. The whole marriage thing must really be going to your head because you can’t help but feel like the weight of his thumb keeps returning to your ring finger. “But I promise you, I’m going to make sure I don’t let it touch you. Any of this.” 

 “I don’t want it to touch you either.” 

You aren’t sure if you meant it, and you are even less sure what compels you to say it. JJ gives you a slight smile that does nothing to ease your newfound worries, “You don’t worry about me, okay? I’m gonna get you out of this safe.” 

You want to argue with him and tell him that he needs to make it out safely, too, but a distant yell interrupts your train of thought before you can reply. 

“JJ, COME DOWN! I GOT YOUR CLOTHES!” 

JJ pulls back, his sad, self-deprecating smile disappearing. “I’ll see you at the finish line, I guess.” He sticks out his hand, his smile changing to the mischievous one that always looks best on him. “Let’s do this.”

“Let’s do this,” You smile, reaching out to shake his hand. “But after you take a shower.” 

You aren’t very superstitious, but today you want to be. Your dad had been extremely superstitious, always telling you to beware of black cats and search extra hard for four-leaf clovers. Today, you want to believe that things like a lucky number or knocking on wood can fix up a promising future for you. The weather is pristine – the sun bright and pleasant in the company of a light breeze. The weather is the textbook definition of a perfect day. If it had been your actual wedding day, you would probably have considered yourself unbelievably lucky. 

You want to cling to that belief as John B, Sarah, and JJ walk to the courthouse doors. This is it, the metaphorical calm before the storm. Sarah squeezes your hand tight as you reach the courthouse. You had taken hold of her hand in the Twinkie and hadn’t let go since. 

“This is it,” John B says, wiping his hands against his pants. 

JJ tilts his head, offering a brief nod, “Yup.”

“Do you guys have rings?” Sarah asks, and you want to groan. She is taking this entirely too seriously, and it does nothing to calm your nerves. 

“Sarah, we’re nineteen-year-old Pogues. I highly doubt anyone expects us to have rings,” JJ said, and you hadn’t ever been this thankful for him… ever. 

Sarah rolls her eyes, offering you one more squeeze of her hand before letting go. She walks up the five steps of the courthouse building and opens the door for the rest of the group. You and JJ follow John B. and Sarah’s lead as they talk to a few people to see where they should go. John B had called as soon as the courthouse’s office had opened in the morning, but it seems a bit pointless since there aren’t many people around. That helps with your nerves a little. Not having an audience will make some of this easier. 

JJ, unlike earlier, is the picture of ease. He had put on a pair of John B’s khakis and a pale blue button-down, looking so unlike himself. His messy blond hair, not a trace of gel visible, is the only thing that reminds you that you are about to marry JJ Maybank. He leans against the counter in front of the plexiglass like it’s the counter back at the shop and speaks to the clerk as if he is an old family friend. He handles giving the clerk all the information required, only turning to you for your license – which you’d thankfully gotten a couple of years ago. He is so… JJ about the whole thing. Playing the part so well, as if it’s just another one of your schemes. Eventually, the clerk passes a stack of papers through the opening at the bottom of the glass and speaks into his mic. 

“Once you’re ready, we’ll need your signatures on each page, and then you’ll sign this.” He passes a yellow file folder with a paper sticking through the gap. “And that’s it. You’ll be officially married.”

Your fingers shake as you reached forward to pick up the yellow folder. The portion of the paper sticking out says ‘marriage license’ in beautiful, cursive font. You are surprised you aren’t numb to the nerves twisting around your stomach by this point. 

“Whenever you’re ready,” the clerk says, turning away to his computer. You look up at JJ and then behind him at Sarah.  

“It’s going to be okay, Y/N,” Sarah assures you, but it doesn’t help. Her words can’t dissuade the nagging voice in your head saying that you are signing up for your life to become a game. 

“Hey,” JJ turns to look at Sarah and John B before grabbing the papers from the counter and your hand. He leads you both to a brown bench at the edge of the room, sitting you down. He takes a moment to look around him before crouching in front of you. “I know this is hard, but…” 

“We have to.” You fill in. JJ shakes his head immediately. 

“No, we don’t. Somehow, this crazy idea makes sense, but that doesn’t mean we have to. If you say no, then we’ll figure out another way. No one will be mad, and none of this will be your fault.” 

“You wouldn’t be mad?”

“Of course, I wouldn’t. You’re doing me a favor.” You look at JJ, knelt before you, a hand placed next to your thigh. He is utterly at your mercy and still giving you an out. No pressure, no fallout. Looking at him, you know what you have to do. 

“No, I’ll do it.” JJ looks at you as if to ask, “Are ​​you sure?” You nod in reply. “Give me a pen.” 

JJ stands up, sitting down next to you. He pulls out a pen from his pocket, and you want to joke about how domesticated the fact that he’s switched out his lighter for a pen is, but all you can bring yourself to do is swallow down the deep breaths of air you are taking in. JJ flipped through each sheet in the stapled stack of papers, signing one line before passing the pen to you and repeating. He signs, then you sign. He signs, then you sign. You focus on that pattern through all six sheets, and the flow was only disrupted when JJ waves John B and Sarah over to sign on the witness sections. When JJ finally pulls out the marriage license from its folder, you though you would have reacted less to it. It was just another four lines, but you still feel its weight as JJ prepares to sign it. You don’t move your eyes from JJ’s calloused hand– focusing on how his hand moves as he glides the pen over the paper, the sound of the pen clicking when he is done, the sharp crinkle of the paper as he holds it out for you. You try to focus on anything that would distract you from the actual act of signing the papers. 

“Wow,” John B whistles. “You guys are married.” 

You look up at him, JJ, and the signed papers in front of you. JJ’s face is paler than usual, but there is no indication of what he is thinking. You try to smile at Sarah, but you can feel it comes out more like a grimace. 

“Alright, you two,” John B says, as the Twinkie near Pope’s parent’s place. “This is when it all matters.”

You want to laugh. It didn’t matter when you were manipulating the government? 

“Everyone here needs to believe that you two are surprised by this party, but more than that, they need to believe that you’re in love,” You roll your eyes. He doesn’t have to spell it out so much. “That means you need to go full Jarah.”

“Excuse me?” You ask. “What’s a Jarah?”

“Oh God, JB,” JJ groans, his head falling back against the seat cushion. “That’s cringe even for you.” You glance at John B’s smug grin and Sarah’s love-struck gaze, and you groan. 

“Is that y’alls couple's name?” You ask. 

“The kids call it a ship name,” John B shrugs. 

“You’re so unbelievably lame,” You nod at JJ’s words, your posture mirroring his as you rest your head against the seat. 

“Maybe, but I’m also serious. You need to look like a newly wedded couple, which means lots of PDA.” 

You look at JJ, who seems just as displeased as you feel. JJ has been quiet since you got in the car, and there is no sign of the boy who’d talked you through the hardest decision of your life.

“So when we get to the backyard, be holding hands and biggggg smiles. Got it?” You regret any time you’d privately praised John B’s leadership skills. JJ is the first to exit the car, closing the door once all of you have gotten out and following behind the group. When you reached the fence of Pope’s childhood home, JJ’s entire demeanor shifts. His shoulder raise, a small smile paints his lips, and you swear his cheeks somehow turned redder. He places his hand out for you, waiting for you to take it. 

You walk hand in hand through the makeshift fence Heyward must’ve built years ago, the sound of music and the smell of barbecue filling your senses. As people begin to come into view, your jaw drops. Except it isn’t an act because you are in genuine shock. You’d assumed the party would consist of  Pope’s parents, maybe Kie’s, and a couple of JJ’s acquaintances from high school. What you hadn’t expected was for what seemed like the entirety of The Cut to be populating Heyward’s backyard. From JJ’s expression, he also didn’t expect to see this many people. 

The crowd erupts in cheers, chants of the couple’s names being heard from various corners. You feel JJ’s hand tighten around yours, but when you look at him, he seems to melt into the noise. His lips round into a cheer and settle into a wide grin as he takes in the crowd. In this crowd, JJ is in his element. With the attention, noise, and chaos, he can guide you through the rest of the evening and you can have the chance of getting out of this without being caught. You follow JJ’s lead, smiling brightly, and feel relieved when Cleo came to give you a big hug. 

“Who knew you were such a great actress,” You mumblw to Cleo, who is holding onto you with a death grip.

“The hug’s not because I’m happy for you,” Cleo whispers back. “I’m sorry, Y/N/N. But it’s all going to be okay.” When she pulls back, you don’t have the time to sit in that moment with Cleo because all your friends follow her lead.  

“JJ,” You and JJ look up to see all six feet something of Mr. Heyward standing in front of you and you immediately feel your palms dampen. This interaction will possibly be the hardest one to sell. 

“Heyward,” JJ lets go of your hand and throws his palm out to shake the hand of someone you know has played the part of a father to him. You wonder if lying to Heyward might be one of the more challenging parts for JJ, but if it is, he doesn’t let it show and instead plays the part he has to effortlessly. “Thanks for all of this,” He makes a show of taking in his surroundings and letting out a low whistle. “It means a lot.” 

Heyward’s expression is painfully untrusting, and you wish you could wither away when he turns to look at you. Over the past two years, as Pope and Cleo’s relationship transitioned from platonic to damn near a married couple, you had frequented the Heywards’ house almost as much as Cleo. When you’d returned from Poguelandia, Heyward had housed you without a second thought, and ever since then, he’d treated you like his own. Lying to him feels worse than a betrayal, even if you’re sure he would understand the situation. Well, maybe not the entire situation. 

“Sure was surprised when I heard Pope tell me this was happening,” Heyward says. The glare he would give you kids whenever he knew something was amiss, boring into you. 

You must look like a fish out of water with your mouth opening and closing, searching for an adequate response. Luckily, JJ speaks up for both of you. His arm rounds across your shoulders as he draws you closer to him. 

“I know it’s hard to believe., but when you know, you know, right?” 

Heyward hums, his arms crossing across his chest and then uncrossing again. Pointing his finger, he says, “You know, I’m just not sure how I didn’t see this happening, is all.”

JJ leans in towards you, making a show of failing to whisper, “I’m sure he doesn’t see a lot of things nowadays–”

“Oh, you think you’re funny, huh, lil shit,” With that, Heyward is back to his usual level of annoyance with JJ, and you can breathe a little easier. “Y/N, you got anything to say?”

You clear your throat, “It’s been a whirlwind, but I’m really happy.”

You don’t look at JJ as you say it and know you needed to, but lying has never been your strong suit. When you and Cleo were still with Terrance, you usually worked in the shadows while Cleo set up the distractions in the spotlight. It was easier for you that way. This whole wedding sham had made the two of you switch roles, and you didn’t have enough time to prepare. 

“I don’t know what whirlwind you’ve found yourself in now, but I’m sure I don’t need to teach you that marriage is no joke.” If only Heyward knew how deeply familiar you were with the fact that marriage was anything but humorous. “Be smart. And you,” Heyward looks back at JJ, his features stern. “Be good to her. Or Cleo and I won’t leave a body to be found.”

You finally laugh at that, and in a moment of feeling genuinely carefree, you wrap your arm around JJ’s torso. You wouldn’t have even noticed you did it if JJ hadn’t brushed the bare skin of your shoulder and drawn your attention to just how close you are. Despite your unusual affection, neither of you moves from your entanglement. As you move around the party, meeting acquaintances and a couple of JJ’s cousins, you think you could’ve sold the whole thing with how close you two are. You doubt you were Sarah and John B’s level of affectionate, but even if JJ had been the love of your life, you don’t think you’d be the kind of person to have that much of a public display anyway. 

The sun will begin setting soon, and as you look around the backyard, you feel nostalgia for something you have never had. Weddings were one of those things so many girls grew up dreaming about, spending hours thinking up the dress of their dreams and how they’d decorate their venue. You never had the chance to think of those things, but looking around you, you think maybe this is precisely what you would’ve asked for. The decorations are as simple as they could be. Cleo and Pope have strung some fairy lights– probably Kie’s– through a few trees and from the roof's ledge. It’s cook-out style for food– grills being manned by dads and barbecue being served fresh to each person. Music is playing in the background, but it wasn’t a perfectly curated playlist of love songs. From what you’ve heard since you walked in, it was probably just the playlist Pope usually put on when he got speaker control during hangouts. It is the most Pogue, life on The Cut-esque wedding, but it is more than enough for you. For a minute, you close your eyes and pretend this is a party being hosted for any other reason, sending a fuzzy feeling from your heart throughout your body. It is all you’ve ever wanted. To be loved, to belong. It doesn’t matter how you got here, but you had.  

The upbeat tempo of a Kendrick song is replaced by the much slower tempo of an unsettlingly familiar song. The opening notes of Can’t Help Falling In Love ring through the settling crowd, the blend of the piano and electric guitar muffling Heyward’s voice as he calls you and JJ to the center of the yard. You barely process the awkward look JJ shoots you, too distracted by the churning feeling in your stomach, returning more vigorous than it had all day. You hate this song. There are too many memories of watching your parents dance around the kitchen while Elvis played in the background. You used to watch them in awe of the love they shared, the way your father would melt into your mother’s arms. It was almost like the song had created a self-fulfilling prophecy about how your parents' relationship would play out. A love that had felt as sure as the flow of the river to the sea had taken your father’s life. It had taken your life. 

JJ’s hand leads you to the clearing all the onlookers have created as he mumbles about having no choice. You look around, all these people who would never know what you are thinking. You are thinking about this life that you dreamed of a couple of years ago and many years before, you wouldn’t have understood. That girl watching her parents in the kitchen wouldn’t have understood any of this, and your heart breaks for her in a way that it never has before. It is making it difficult to push past the pounding in your ears and the bile rising in your throat. JJ’s free hand comes to rest on your waist, and when your eyes met, he gives you a tense smile. 

Your right hand rests on his shoulder, mindlessly mirroring how you’ve seen your parents do this a hundred times. JJ, you soon find out, isn’t much of a dancer. His steps are clumsy, either too wide or too short. He tries to lead your movements, picking up on how you’ve gone rigid, but he lacks just as much fluidity. You know what the crowd is expecting. They want to see magic, the tender moments between two young people looking forward to every joyful second of their intertwined lives. The way you and JJ are moving is the polar opposite– the stiff movement highlighting how out of sync you two truly are. JJ’s movements are harsh and rushed, and you are grateful that he has switched out his workboots for a pair of John B’s Converse because, in a span of two minutes, he’s stepped on your toes three times. 

“Shit– sorry,” JJ mumbles, his covered foot landing on your toes a fourth time, effectively making you wince. He is so focused on his missteps that he likely isn’t noticing the judgemental side glances you are receiving from the crowd, but you do. Something about the combination of your embarrassment and the painful memories of your youth has your eyes welling with tears. You don’t cry. Not just in front of others, but never. It’s like your tears had dried up all those years ago, but now, with this stupid, stupid song playing, you can’t stop them. 

“Swear I’m not usually–” JJ stops his defense when he looks at you, his eyes widening. The tears haven’t fallen, but it is probably evident with how close JJ is to you. JJ looks around, snapping his head in various directions until he finally finds whatever or whoever he is looking for. He twists his pointer finger in a circular motion twice, and you notice Pope quickly shuffling with his phone. The music doesn’t change immediately, and JJ keeps his hands firmly against you, but he slows his swaying. Instead, he holds you still and pulls you into his body. It’s like he is trying to shield you from everything outside the two of you, and you take refuge in his arms without a second thought. He whispers against your temple, “I got you.” 

The haunting melody of Can’t Help Falling In Love is finally replaced with the rhythmic, upbeat tune of My Girl by The Temptations. JJ, firmly pressed against you, pulls back quickly and lets out an unrestrained “WOO!” He snaps in tune with the music, his movements much more liquid than earlier. The weight of the earlier song still feels like it is being pressed against you, but the energy of this song is entirely different, and it seems to infect JJ. He has a cheeky grin and looks just like the charming-to-a-fault boy you know despite the clothes that don’t belong to him and the rare bursts of softness you’ve witnessed today. 

“I’ve got sunshine,” He sins along with Ron Tyson, and if it had been any other artist, you might have thought he was giving them a run for their money. His voice is smoother than you would’ve expected. He doesn’t have the voice of a trained vocalist, but his North Carolina accent mixed with the natural timbre of his voice makes for something captivating. The smile he’d brought to your face grows as he steps towards you, his shoulder moving in time with the song. 

“I guess you say,” He continues, his eyebrows raised with intention as he looks at you. Your laughter bubbles over, already knowing where he is headed with this. “What can make me feel this way?” 

You make a show of annoyance with his antics, but as he takes your hand and spins you around three times– once for each time Tyson sings ‘my girl’-- your delight is unfeigned. After the third spin, JJ crosses your arms in front of you, hauling your back against his chest. You peer up at him over your shoulder, your noses brushing, and his grin is like the sun peeking through on a cloudy day. 

The crowd has begun to join you on the makeshift stage, but you are too caught up in the song and how much fun you are having with JJ to care. These are the moments you remember from Poguelandia, which feel like a lifetime ago now— the carefree feeling JJ brought to your life that you had desperately needed then. 

JJ’s antics only get more humorous when the song's instrumental part begins to play. He uses the opportunity to do his infamous two-step, shooting you a cocky smirk and throwing his arms out at either side of him, inviting competition. 

“That all you got?” You ask, and JJ made a show of stepping back and offering you the floor. You aren’t sure what you are doing, but you take the space and let your hips move in tune with the music. The song isn’t seductive by any means, but it is groovy, and you felt confident in how your body moves with it. From the impressed look on JJ’s face, he seems to agree, and you giggle as he inces closer slowly, wrapping a loose arm around your waist. 

As the song reaches its final verse, John B and Sarah have made their way over to you. JJ and John B look at each other, tilting their heads in unison and pointing at each other. Suddenly, JJ is spinning you over, and John B takes ahold of your hand. John B is a much worse singer than JJ, but your laughter isn’t deterred for even a moment as he leads you through the rest of the dance. You make eye contact with Sarah, who shoots you a wink and lovingly rolls her eyes when JJ spins her. John B follows suit by turning you in towards him, whispering in your ear. 

“That had to sell it.” 

taglist: @theater-bitch @ayy1234567 @tpwkyarely @loves animals0000 @B3rryb3t @mvaldez7821 @ummmmokaynotme @velyssaraptor @chloemaybank @sandaltoesocks @thexplosivegirl @rudypankowisbae @marleymarleymarleymarley @snowtargaryen @awurtzx06 @yumwhy @rudypankowisbae @kanpaeki

[maxdibert]

The problem many people encounter when debating Severus’s actions is that their perspective often hinges entirely on subjective and personal ethics.

There’s an objective reality here: Severus Snape was a complex man with a difficult personality, a terrible attitude, and absolutely no understanding of how to form healthy relationships with others. He also made very poor choices—choices that stemmed from a complete lack of resources, support, or tools to guide him toward a different path. However, it’s also an objective fact that he quickly regretted those decisions and spent his entire life, physical integrity, and ultimately, gave his life to atone for those mistakes. He went far beyond what he owed, far beyond what was necessary, and gave much more than anyone with a shred of self-preservation would have, especially considering that all his efforts were for a group of people who spent his entire life doubting, judging, and rejecting him. But he did it anyway, and he did it without seeking recognition or thanks, purely to settle the debt he felt he owed himself and to quiet his own remorse. Full stop. All of this is canonical.

If beyond this point, the "snaters" (Snape haters) think it’s valid, invalid, insufficient, the bare minimum he could have done, or that his sacrifices don’t matter at all, and you see him as Lucifer incarnate or some irredeemable monster undeserving of the slightest consideration—that’s not the character’s problem. That’s your problem. Because these are purely moral judgments, entirely personal and subjective. You’re applying your own value system to a character who objectively not only paid his debt but renounced a future and ultimately gave his life in the process.

So it doesn’t matter how many times you point out that he was a horrible teacher or bullied kids because, in reality, he spent years protecting all those kids. It doesn’t matter how many times you say he was a Nazi because, in reality, he turned against Voldemort at the age of 21 and was instrumental in defeating him during the war. It doesn’t matter how many times you claim he brought his abuse on himself because, in reality, all the references we have to his abusers’ past show them as bullies. The narrative never depicts them as good kids who only acted in self-defense—it consistently portrays them as aggressive bullies.

Any interpretations shaped by moral frameworks, cultural differences, or ethics rooted in your upbringing, environment, or personal perspective are irrelevant because the facts are clear.

That said, I also have my own value system. And in my value system, honestly, Severus didn’t owe anyone anything. The moment he went to Dumbledore and revealed the prophecy, he had already repaid any debt he might have had. So to me, not only did he go far beyond what he owed—he was foolish to dedicate his life to a cause that had rejected, ostracized, and discriminated against him simply for ending up in a specific house. In my opinion, the people he saved didn’t deserve his effort. And in my opinion—according to my subjective view of the world—he should’ve let more than a few of them rot in their own mess.

But that’s not objective; that’s just what I personally think. It’s not the truth, and I can admit that. Perhaps some people should consider doing the same.

[belle-rosse]

I think wayyyy too much about the scene in s1x07 where Vi and Cait try to save each other from Jinx’s attack, and maybe simple thoughts have turned into a meaningless analysis. I’ll share it anyway.

The way Vi and Caitlyn try to protect each other in this scene perfectly reflects how they were raised, and I think it even works as foreshadowing for the scene in the rain.

Let’s focus on Vi first. The core part of her identity since she was a child has been to protect, which we see from the way she shields Powder from the horrifying sight on the bridge in the very first minute of the first episode, up to this very moment. Vi has a specific way of carrying out this protection. Unlike when she's on her own, Vi doesn’t jump straight into a fight—she first moves the person she wants to protect away from danger, then faces the battle entirely alone. Here, she follows the same process: her first impulse is to shield Caitlyn by pushing her out of the weapon’s range, not caring about her own safety. She only takes cover after making sure that no one can hurt Cait. This is Vi’s impulsive nature at its peak, as well as her absolute loyalty.

Now, with Caitlyn, there’s more to discuss. Caitlyn has been protected her entire life, shielded behind her parents and her last name. This sense of security has made Caitlyn a rebel, someone who pushes the boundaries of that protection (while following certain rules), but it also makes her very naive. Caitlyn doesn’t truly know the dangers of the world. Even though she tries to project confidence, she had never stepped on the other side of the bridge before. That’s why I believe her decision to step in front of Vi as a shield while also trying to protect herself with her arm is a pure act but rooted in ignorance. Caitlyn jumps into danger to keep Vi safe, but even if she managed to avoid the impact of one bullet, there would be more. Most likely, if Vi hadn’t pushed her, they both would’ve ended up hurt. This is Caitlyn’s identity: unlike Vi, she protects others by getting close, giving all of herself to push the problem away rather than fighting it alone. What she doesn’t realize is that, even when she has meticulously structured plans, some problems can’t be solved with one-sided diplomacy. Caitlyn is pure and well-intentioned but lacks a survival instinct due to her upbringing.

Now, why do I say this works as foreshadowing for their breakup in the rain? Simple—except for the weapons and general violence, it’s essentially the same scene.

Vi and Caitlyn face a problem that involves both of them, and in order to protect the other, they resort to the same methods I mentioned before.

Vi assumes that she’s the problem, that her anger with the council and Piltover in general will cost Caitlyn her well-being. So, what does she do? She leaves her in the middle of the rain, saying words she wishes weren’t true, hurting herself in the process just to make sure Caitlyn won’t try to find her. Throughout this scene, Vi refuses to look at her, because if she sees her sadness, she’ll likely give in and end up putting her in danger. After pushing her away again, Vi decides to confront (though with Jayce this time, not entirely alone) Silco’s industry, once more jumping into the fight only after ensuring the safety of the one she loves.

But Caitlyn doesn’t know this. She sees Vi’s actions as an abrupt and ungrounded change. “Why is Vi leaving?” must be her only thought, and in response, she tries to offer solutions they can face together because she’s unaware of what they’re really up against. She tries to get close to Vi several times, both in her words and her body language. Everything in her is pleading for the Zaunite to stay, to explain what’s happening so they can work together and share the weight of the problems. In the end, it doesn’t work, and respecting Vi’s boundaries, she lets her go. Though it doesn’t stop her, and that’s how we get her scene in the shower, thinking of the alternatives to that encounter.

I warned y’all that this would be a meaningless analysis, but I love and miss Caitvi too much to stay silent about them. Also, I adore episode seven.

[professoruber]

Thoughts on why I like the depiction of Kara as a scientist

Source: Supergirl (2016) #8

So a bit ago I posted a poll about Kara's "day job" because I was curious. As it turns out, "Scientist Kara" was by far the most popular option of those who voted, ending up with roughly half the votes, with "Actress Kara" as a distant second place.

"Scientist Kara" was also my preference, and so this has gotten me thinking more deeply into the why of what makes "Scientist Kara" so appealing, with some help from the reasonings given by response to the poll.

So with that in mind, I figured I might make a post discussing this. Note I am not the biggest comic expert, but I am learning more bit by bit.

What Makes Kara the Scientist so appealing?

Source: World's Finest: Batwoman and Supergirl (2020) #2

I think this was the story which really sold me on the concept of Scientist Kara. I'd really recommend checking it out, but here's the gist...

Kara gets fired from her CatCo internship due to constantly leaving to do Supergirl stuff, after a dressing down from Cat Grant she flies over to the Daily Planet rooftop where she meets her cousin. Kara reminisces about Krypton (as shown in the snapshot above) and reveals (after Clark questions her) that she only became a reporter because Clark is one and she doesn't even like the job. After being reassured by Clark that she could never leave in his shadow and how they all have to find their own paths, she ends up attending a S.T.A.R Labs job fair with a much more optimistic attitude.

This story quite firmly establishes science as something that is hers, an activity which she enjoyed.

Pursuing a career in journalism is something, by contrast, that she both struggles with and finds frustrating.

That's what I found so appealing, I think. Kara being a scientist in this context means allowing herself to follow her own path rather than just seek to live up to the legacy set by Superman.

Furthermore, it can also help show the differences between the cousins and their upbringings.

Kara's Kryptonian roots

Both Superman and Supergirl are immigrant stories, but also quite different ones.

Superman is Clark Kent, even if he was born on Krypton as Kal-El and those roots are part of who is he is. Clark Kent is a Kansas farm boy, the man he is and the morals he lives are due to Ma and Pa Kent.

Supergirl is Kara Zor-El, even if she now lives on Earth as Kara Danvers/Linda Lee Danvers/Linda Lang (depending on the continunity). Kara Zor-El is generally 15 when arriving on Earth (I believe) and so spent those years growing up in Argo City (which escape Krypton's destruction) or on Krypton itself. Either way, she was raised in Kryptonian society and culture.

Source: Supergirl (1982) #17

I think it makes quite a bit of sense for Kara to remain attached to her roots even after years living on Earth, since that is the culture she grew up in, and it also because of how interesting it is to explore.

And while the nature of Krypton can vary across different continunities, a consistent aspect is that it is a scientifically advanced society which surpasses Earth in that regard. The House of El is also populated by scientists, with that being the standard career of the parents of both Clark and Kara.

Source: Batgirl (2009) #14

Kara was, in the New Earth continuity, even depicted as following the family business via joining the Science Guild.

(Also; gotta love Kara's smugness here.)

The best of both worlds

Clark Kent can be said to represent the best of humanity.

So I think it would fit for Kara Zor-El to represent the best of Krypton.

As I mentioned before, the portrayal of Krypton can very much vary. Often it is a flawed and stagnant society, although there are also versions which are imperialistic (such as in MAWS, although I personally was not the biggest fan of that, but I digress).

Source: Supergirl (1982) #18

To take another step back to pre-crisis Supergirl and her choice of headgear, I'd like to highlight these panels.

As shown earlier, she chose this particular red headband because it is a traditional piece of Kryptonian attire and so represents her continued ties to Krypton even while living on Earth. As shown here though, the headband is traditionally only worn by men and yet Kara decides to wear it anyway because of Earth gender equality concepts.

It creates an interesting mix of traditionalism and rebellion-ness. She is maintaining her Kryptonian roots, but doing so in a way which defies part of the tradition via incorporating an ideal she learned on Earth.

And so that is how I think Kara Zor-El could represent the best of Krypton.

She is the scientist, someone who represents Kryptonian's advanced society and values, but also lacks the stagnation, close-mindedness and dogma which is often shown contributing to the people's doom.

She becomes "The Woman of Tomorrow".

Some final thoughts

Another perspective of this which has crossed my mind is that giving Kara the background and ambitions of a scientist arguably could add another layer to the tragedy of her story. Of course, the loss of her home, family and people is the primary tragic event. But a Kara whose only wish was to do science, ending up on Earth where she no longer gains extreme powers but also a newfound legacy of heroism, means that Kara now has newfound expectations and even responsibility, even if she never wanted to be a fighter at all.

Kara had her entire life changed on a fundamental level when circumstances destroyed her home and sent her to Earth.

Her being a scientist can be seen as another way of her maintaining her ties to the advanced society she hails from, and reflect the way in which she was a product of that society even as she grows and explores new ways and ideas.

And I think this concept, both making Kara science-inclined and generally more focused on her Kryptonian roots, can be beneficial in exploring the immigrant aspect of her character in a way different to Clark.

[ramblinscramblin]

How would the mercs.. let's say – Demo, Snipes & Engineer act if they are father's? Your writing is really good!!

→Mercs as fathers!

Genre: fluff

Characters: Sniper, Demoman, Engineer

Hi anon! I wrote for a prompt pretty similar to this, so you can check that out too if it interests you! That being said I will still drop a few headcanons here! Enjoyyy!

Sniper

Sniper had a relatively good upbringing, so he is well adjusted enough to make a good father.

Still pretty anxious that he’s doing everything wrong.

Is honestly just afraid that his kid will turn out to be antisocial like him and be outcast, he prompts them to get involved in extracurricular activities often. Won’t force them though.

Sniper is very supportive of his kids, if they have some strange fixation/interest he will do anything to make sure they can continue with it. Will also try and get into it himself so he can bond with his kids.

Most of his fatherly love is shared in quality time, he likes to spend most of his hours with his kids even in silence, he just loves them so much.

Protective papa bear, this much we know.

Doesn’t let his kids around the other mercs, thinks their crazy will rub off on them.

Engineer

As I have said before I think he would make a really great dad.

Teaches his kids very hands on life skills, they must know how to fix a car at least.

Likes cooking them breakfast in the morning, as I feel like bacon and eggs is like one of the only things he can actually successfully cook.

Supportive, doesn’t really care about anything so long as his kids are happy and safe.

Likes to have his kids with him while he works, it’s important quality time for him and it keeps him from getting too sucked into what he’s working on.

All the other mercs become what is essentially uncles to his kids, he brings them around semi often. He understands it’s dangerous work though so he doesn’t let them get too involved.

He loves it if his kids turn out to be very artistic, might try and teach them all music, wants them to try at least one instrument for a year to see if they like it.

He’s got this father thing down.

Demoman

He’s got a lot of issues to work out before he can become a father.

I do feel like being a dad would really put his life in order though, he would definitely drink a lot less. He doesn’t want his kids to be an all messed up from having a drunk dad.

Wants his kids to feel connected to their Scottish roots, frequent visits to keep them immersed in the culture.

They spend a lot of time with grandma, she absolutely adore them to the moon and back, Tavish has to fight her at the end of the night to get them back. They often whine because they want to stay with grandma.

Demoman likewise keeps the other mercs in his children’s lives, he genuinely believes them to be good role models. Well most of them anyways.

Is the super playful dad, think Bandit Heeler from Bluey. Will go to insane lengths to make sure his kids are having fun, even at the risk of embarrassing himself.

Urges his kids to be involved in some kind of sport or extracurricular, he wants them to have structure.

Can’t cook for shit, so he takes them to diners and restaurants frequently. They love it though so there’s no harm, it’s good quality time.

His kids are rambunctious but so is he, so he’s got this.

Thanks for your request! Short and sweet, I love these guys so mucchhh.

[brucewaynehater101]

I was wondering what Tim's racial traits are? Because I know that Bruce is Jewish, Dick is Romani, Jason is possibly Latino (I don't know if it's canon but his own traits wouldn't change because Latinos are very diverse, some may be white… The Latina who lives in Latam speaks uwu) , Cass is Asian, I think Chinese?, Babs is possibly white, Duke is Afro-American, Alfred is obviously British, Steph is white and Damian is mixed Arab-Jewish.

This is because I have seen him portrayed as white, Jewish or Asian, specifically Chinese, Japanese or Cambodian. I also love the possibility that the Batfam is a target of the Pro American (Damian would be a frequent victim) and Neo Nazis (Here they put everyone in the bag , even Tim if he were a white man the Nazis also persecuted homosexuals) and I feel that it would be something that would unite them as a family because it would be them against the world sjfshsaj and DC is a coward, possibly they put those things. and i lov your work uwu

Hello! I've seen a ton of cool AUs that portray him (and more specifically his mom) from different backgrounds, but I believe he is canonically white.

For Tim, I've seen some posts mentioning that some comic book creator was going to make him Jewish. They never quite added that into canon (his dad is atheist and his mom is implied to be Catholic), but that might be another reason why he's been portrayed as Jewish or other cultural backgrounds in AUs. Personally, it's rad to see how his storyline, characterization, or choices may or may not change or be affected by changing his upbringing, cultural background, or race. I've seen some cool AUs with Red Room or Russian decent Tim Drake.

I'm honestly not positive on Jason. I don't think DC quite confirmed a specific ethnicity for him, but he's implied to be white. I was trying to find anything that mentioned it, and someone talked about how, when he was researching who his bio mom is, he seriously considered Lady Shiva. This could indicate that he's racially ambiguous.

I personally hc him to be a third or fourth generation immigrant on his dad's side. This, in the hc, could be examined for how his dad may face social and structural barriers to obtaining work. Combined with his dad becoming a father at a young age (anywhere from 18 to 23), Willis was forced to find illegal work just to pay his bills for his family. At least, that's my hc if we're going with a good parent Willis.

You are correct that the Waynes, due to their mixed backgrounds, may face hate or be targeted by hate groups. Barbara may also be included with this due to her visible disability (I hc that some of the Waynes have, at the very least, some invisible disabilities). If we're going strictly off of canonically proven backgrounds/traits, Tim would face hate for being openly bisexual.

I am not aware of any hate groups residing within Gotham. I could 100% be wrong about that. There is the possibility of eugenicists, anti-meta groups, and supremacists (especially in positions of power) existing in Gotham. On the other hand, some of the Rogues would probably decimate those groups if they tried to root themselves in Gotham. That city is chaotic, but I love the hc that the Bats and some rogues (like Harley, Riddler, and Ivy) protect Pride events and other such gatherings. I find it more healing to think about the Rogues, despite being mass murders, drawing the line at being a bigot.

I've seen some fics that chat about the Waynes coming to Damian's defense when he's being racially targeted at school or galas. I haven't seen any for the Waynes as a whole being targeted by hate groups, but that is a possibility to explore. At the very least, there may be some awful shit online that Barbara stumbles across (even if the users aren't based in Gotham due to the Waynes being famous).

I'm glad that you enjoy my work! Stay safe, everyone, and fuck the pieces of shits that hate folks for being themselves.

[zeondraws]

Okay fellas I'll go on a roughly 2 week break now.

Also just 5 weeks until the swtd artbooks should start getting shipped? The time will probably fly by fast but I'm excited!!! (I won't stop mentioning this until I have ze boooooook)

I'm also slowly feeling more comfortable at therapy which should help me feel more at home soon. Having moved cities always makes me feel icky for a while, especially since I live so far away from friends. Aside from one friend who recently moved to another county nearby.

I often feel very alone after moving, it's been a very regular occurrence in my life. It's one reason I struggle to form bonds with people because I knew after a year or two I'd move again.

Is also why I felt very sad when I left that stwd discord server. Tho probably for the best, I tried to apologise but for me it feels like my apology was ignored in the end. The person was very passive aggressive towards me in their last message in private. I often don't know how to feel because I push my own needs aside to help others. But that's a deeply rooted issue in me due to my upbringing. I'll work on it, but it will takes ages to unlearn stuff.

In a long discussion my therapist explained to me that I get triggered easily, which baffled me, I have a hard time accepting this truth.

Some stuff quickly triggers my spirals and I have a hard time thinking straight for hours. I have no clue how I can get rid of these triggers, or prevent them having a tight grip on me. Maybe in therapy I'll figure out a solution. I just worry that my spirals and relapses continue in the same way they do now. I've had them for ages and can't remember a period where they weren't present.

I want to like, get better with art but getting feedback/criticism scares me a ton. My brain sees feedback of any kind as a punishment or bad thing. Making me think what if the person dislikes me. Even tho that makes no sense? I appreciate when my friends are honest with me and give me feedback.

Just some stuff I have to work on the coming years, gonna need to stop myself here because this would just make me spiral down.

Please don't bother/harass anyone from the swtd server about the topic mentioned above. We're all just humans and make mistakes, no one is perfect.

I wanted to write something small, so that people aren't confused why I left. I sadly won't rejoin the server probably. I need to take care of my mental health rather than stay somewhere that might continue to stress me out.

I wish you all a good Sunday and see you soon.

[scottfreed]

Orion & Scott should be friends if not awkward step brothers. The forced antagonism is lame.

I had an argument with two people about the way I characterized Orion and Scott in a fic a while back, and I wanted to make a big post to compile my canon basis for writing them as somewhat distant brothers who respect and defend each other. I particularly had one fan continuously say Tom King's characterization is gospel and completely consistent, and I was an "abuse apologist" for writing them in a positive way. I wanted to pay particular attention to the question of succession since that's the main source of conflict for them in MM '17.

Orion and Scott have had numerous character interactions that have predominantly ranged from generally amicable to warm and familiar with key exceptions. (Rough recount incoming)

MM '74

Their first interaction Orion literally saves Scott's life so he and Barda can get married.

Dude is actually the one who called for the wedding in the first place. And he was playing the Bouncer. And look at him on Barda's side of the alter. He's totally the Maid of Honor:

Super Powers '86

(This was the first comic I ever read with both characters just to disclose my bias.)

Short but fun lesser known title! But there's some interesting world building happening. And Orion and Scott paling around in their co-rulers era:

They're buddies and its great. Also look and Orion's drip.

Look at this! The bois are co-ruling Apokolips for a brief stint. The exact opposite of Orion trying to "steal the throne form scott", He literally called him up to help him manage his own!

This is such a great expression of both their characters. Scott's survivors guilt for being able to escape the Hell of his upbringing and Orion's driving fear of ending up a tyrant like his father.

And look at this "interview":

We need to bring back authors doing make-believe interviews with fictional characters. Simply outstanding. The idea that in the face of nature and nurture they both gravitated to the light is honestly fascinating.

"(still hushed) Thank you, thank you, my friend..."

^^^ like... there are hurt/comfort fics that aren't as tender as this action adventure comic from 1986 😭😭😭

The New Gods Vol 3

But whoa what's this?

Bickering? I guess they do just inherently have an antagonistic relationship... except look what's actually being said.

Orion and Lightray aren't pissed because they think Orion is so great that he should be in charge of everything and Scott's in the way Ala Tom King. (It's because this writer didn't want to write for Scott in this title and the crappy answer for this is to make Scott an annoying "80s era pacifist" which is pretty shameful in the context of world-ending stakes tbh.)

But again, Orion's not miffed because he wants Scott gone. If anything, He want's Scott to be more involved in the fight against evil. He wants him to remember his roots. He wants him to be a part of New genesis. He want's him to take on more power and responsibility.

Plus, idk I'm projecting but it's almost giving: "hey the family misses you, please call/visit more" to me at least.

JLA/I ('90)

My heart is aching look at this! Called him his brother, gave a beautiful eulogy, joined the JLA in his memory. It's wild how the writing in this arc went wildly back and forth between quality and pure nonsense 😭

JLA ('98) - #24

This is how you do clunky exposition about who tf these characters even are showing up in this title all of a sudden.

Is it perfect? No.

But it's still a heart to heart desire to understand. Underline everyone's characters and central motivation. Boom. We're in and we're out. Back to the Justice League.

MM Vol 3 (1996)

Okay, so weirdly aggressive, right???

But, not quite, it was indicated that his reaction here was due to Darksied having just been resurrected and was influencing him.

But also take a closer look at what's being said! It wasn't a result of Orion being covetous of Scott's power or even wishing harm on him or anything.

Quite the opposite, in fact. He's telling him he needs to better protect his own life as future king, even if it means sacrificing others.

It's almost giving concern tbh.

Far be it from trying to kill Scott to steal NG from him, even in this ooc moment, he's chastising him to stay safe so he can come into his throne.

Jack Kirby's Fourth World (1997)

We get a fight and Scott gets over whelmed casue he's fucking around. Barda is lowkey laughing at him. But what does Orion do?

Dude Pops off. Pops off so hard everyone is concerned.

And then this happens:

Look! He struck Scott! Tom King is a genius! haters btfo.....

But wait. this was actually how it was revealed that Orion was possessed by DeSaad, because this was so wildly out of character for him!

Literally this action, that Orion-haters seem to think is like their mundane default character interaction, was so off-putting and out of character to all the other New Gods that they immediately knew something was very wrong. And it was. He was possessed!

lol gross...

But what about when he's back in his mind again? Well...

(idk who's serving more cunt in this tbh)

And here not for the last time we se Orion supporting the idea of Scott as the ruler of Apokolips.

Orion ('01)

(d...did scott do blackface in this cosplay??? lol)

This is the classic. We all know it. We all love it.

Look at Scott meddling in his life. You're fucking up pretty bad when the "god of freedom" has to step in to stop you.

Also the contrast between their actions when dealing with Sirius is better than any hackney fist fight or argument.

And how interesting is it that Scott's unwillingness to kill isn't treated as admirable and pure in contrast to Orion's evil-bad violence.

Nope. He was a kid. He wasn't strong enough yet to do what had to be done. And IIRC it was to do with what he'd just gone through with the emergence of the anti-life equation. But Orion was! And Orion was the one to finally put the poor soul out of him misery.

I like in particular the way they are portrayed as the "god of war" and the "god of freedom" and how the way this is explored isn't a black and white dichotomy. Scott recognizes Orion is absolutely needed to oppose Darkseid. And the way the two of them are working behind the scenes to protect and help each other repeatedly is so perfect.

And the way Orion decides not to kill Metron to protect scott not because it's wrong or whatever but because time travel could prevent anyone else from following the same bread crumbs and coming to the same conclusions is so funny.

But he was fully ready to kill Metron to save the weird little circus man.

But yeah I think its very telling that at the end of this character arc, Orion, in coming to terms with himself, must come to terms with Scott and their respective places in the world.

I just think it's cool that they each saved each other's life twice in this series. Scott prevented Orion form falling too far with his black racer gambit. And reminding him of his purpose. And Orion Saves Scott from the parademons and Metron.

I can only dream of the paradise we'd be living in if this characterization continued on into the future.

Cherish it. It's all down hill from here...

Death of the New Gods ('05)

Okay so this series isn't great, but at least it's consistent with how these two interreact with each other and kind of keeps to Simonson's continuity... kind of.

Orion aggressively defends Scott’s claim yet again. He looked like he was gonna deck Clark when he suggested Scott was not fit. I’m talking bolded, italicized and pt.18 font text when he first suggested it. "WHAT?" He "begrudgingly" admits Scott's not "currently" fit. But still declines that position for himself.

And the two of them discussing the fate of their people like this almost harkens back to '86 with the co-ruling.

This story is weird, with the worst interpretation of the Anti-Life Equation I've seen. And I'd argue both are ooc in general, but even in this slopy story there is no succession crisis. and they are working together:

(lol at his face here. The bois are trying to discuss their family business and clark is just standing there gobsmaked. rude tbh...)

And here is Orion saving his ass again for good measure:

I hit my picture limit, but Scott goes on to try to kill Orion and Clark later in this series.

Up to this point. Orion might have shoved Scott once or twice in weird circumstances but Scott was the only one who seemed to actually make an actual attempt on his life. Which is why the post reboot characterization is so freaking weird to me.

Tom Kings MM (2017)

(This is where it officially falls apart)

Cliché toxic masculinity abusive stepbrother who exists only to make Scott an even bigger victim. Steals the throne, is weirdly aggressive and abusive for no fucking reason. Tries to kill him in jealousy, etc, etc.

And unfortunately this has seemingly become Orion's standard characterization in the minds of most fans.

(Now, in those post-n52 reboot GL books (sorry tbh I don't feel like tracking them down rn) he's not AS bad as he was in the WW and Tom King MM, but he's still portrayed as being far less intelligent and articulate for some reason??? The idea that he's the dumb jock of the NG and not basically a warrior poet. It's better to go more himbo than violent monster I guess but it's still a far cry from his proper characterization.) I wonder if it had to do with his awful portrayal in that Wonder Woman run??? Idk.

... Jack Kirby didn't deserve this.

DCeased(?)

Ripping off Tom king directly. I'm not just saying that since I don't like the characterization. I'm saying this because they ripped this stupid fucking scene off beat-for-beat, Seriously, Tom King should sue this dude for plagiarism.

And like a game of telephone their characters keep getting mangled more and more. This is the writing equivalent of a bad photo copy of a bad photocopy.

I just gotta pray it stops here and we can get back to a normal dynamic for these two again. But this story's existence doesn't bode well.

MM (2021)

Orion and Shilo seem to be on good terms! He still doesn’t speak right but it’s still an improvement!

Buuuut, no relationship or character interaction with Scott and Barda's daughter at all??? Like that's the main antagonist (for some fucking reason) and they just say nothing to each other? ok sure why not at this point.

Like that's High Father's granddaughter!

Highfather is probably the cornerstone of Orion's identity. Even if you don't consider Scott and Orion to be brothers, she's still his family through HF.

Anyway, I just wanted to add at the end here that I find some of the fans (and writer's) continuous characterization of Scott as the loser wife guy and a massive victim all the time, and Orion the violent psycho, who is power-hungry and ambitious is lame and sucks.

And just to be a little biased. I think the dynamic from 50 years ago is better and more relevant to people today than the MM '17 version.

Think about it. There are more blended and mixed families than ever. Awkward and somewhat distant step-brother is so much more compelling and interesting than the chirst vs. anti-christ thing they keep doing.

“What Is It They’ve Sent Us?” “Hope.”

Barda '24

This book seems to be getting us back on track from what I've been able to see so far! I've been unable to get my hands on it yet but everything I've seen and heard about it is really exciting for me as a fan. I'm both excited and fearful to see what comes next!!!

[lives4lovesworld]

Truly wish dany/targaryens stans would stop bothering. The amount of daily posts that aim to "counter" or even pander to nonsensical anti bs is excessive and after years quite honestly boring and tedious.

Quite frankly I fail to understand what we gain from this, adhering to a holier-than-thou moral code, especially since no one else is compelled to even pretend to do so? Is the goal here for them be completely distorted to the point they resemble other characters? antis supposed favorites? As uninteresting to us as they subconsciously are to their stans? Which is the real problem here and the reason why they are the way they are (hypocritical stealing clowns and nuisances?) But perhaps I have a completely different less-morality-bound approach to consuming media in my free time than the rest of my fellow stans.

No downplaying/refuting Valyrian blood purity, empathizing non-Valyrian marriages, pointing out the origin of slavery are found in Old Ghis and not the Freehold, no opting for the most gracious interpretation of members of House Targaryen will ever stop antis from painting and hypocritically single out everything Targaryen/Valyrian related as kkk- or "imperialistic" coded or whatever woke buzzword of the day. They live to pretend-clutch their pearls and hold only them to modern standards of a fantastical utopia, while every other feudal character can be as archaic as expected from their pseudomedvial upbringing with their houses being wardlords

Speaking for me, I STAN their blood purity and incest. For me, IT IS a defining characteristic of House Targaryen that makes them unique, no matter how "problematic" it may be. I STAN it because GRRM fabricated scandalous, passionate love stories that I chose to interpret as consensual and politically advantageous, that brought forward incredible, magical gorgeous characters able to ride dragons that inspire love and envy alike. Who shine all the brighter when one contrasts them with literally any other characters and unions that are and breed doomed mediocrity and are born out of stale duty. I perhaps have a bais for pure blooded Targaryens that look the part than any prefect bastards or half breeds, or targ x targ to any other couple.

I also stan cruel Maegor, particularly for showing Oldtown its place and declawing the Militant Faith because I enjoy reading about the presumptuous Christian Vatican equivalent getting its ass handed to them. I stan Rhaenyra and she still can be a pampered proud princess-turned-queen. The same way I prefer canon Daemon as a rogue, an ambitious prince who seduced his brother's heir with perhaps also political hopes in mind and because he wanted his gorgeous niece as a bride instead of his cold barren wife. A legend that slay the pathetic cunt that was his nephew.

And while I'm at it: I also refuse to care about every "likeable"/pitiful character simply because it would be the "morally right" thing to do, nor will I root for the characters I like to do it. I don't care for Helaena and her children, nor the strong boys or any half-considered-"poc" Targaryen, nor will I even pretend to see "reason" in the greens actions, nor do I even want to see Dany "overcome her hatred"/bais against the usurper's dogs and any descendants of them. Or for her to be that altruistic to turn away from the throne to save humanity.

No amount of "call-out-posts" what a misogynist, racist, cultist, classist or elistist I am will change that because why OH WHY should I give a fuck about what anyone online thinks of me. Why should I allow anyone to bully me into streamline my enjoyment?

Especially by the people that do not even have the decorum of pretend to have any sort of decency. So they can use the most misogynistic, classist language and expect submission to their attempts to rule fandom spaces with iron fists and delusions, and canonize their favorites' sainthood and entitlement to feudal supremacy often only because they ✨️suffered prettily✨️ and fit some anesthetics while I must tolerate them trying to scold me into caring so greatly about fictional grey faceless mass of common people that would die were my favorites to pursue their ambitions. Meanwhile the same people would have any would-be-subjects die of famine and cold as long as their favorites get their crowns GRRM would never grant them in canon anyway. Give me a break. And let's not even start on how dragons and incest are suddenly the solutions as long as they don't belong and is not practiced by Targaryens.

To make this clear: this post is NOT a not-so-subtle incognito-anti post of ✨️i lOve all mY wAr CrimInaL eUqally!;' LeT tHeM bE mAd AnD unHinGed uwu,"! love all mY mOderAte chAsTe hoPes Of the fUtUres and mAd imPeriAlistS. 🥰✨️

I simply wanted to say; perhaps we should NOT GIVE A FUCK, "own" the """""bad""""" and be "problematic" and "irrational" in our selective love for characters and houses like EVERYBODY FUCKING ELSE.

[yams-here]

So I like thinking about franchises that disappointed me in some way

and after watching too many reviews I redesigned the High guardian spice characters (and thought of how the plot could work way too much)

Rose in this version isn't a complete idiot, and may not be so book smart, but she is very good in combat because she's kind of a fangirl. Like, "she studies attacks and can probably name pretty much every guardian" fangirling. While she is still kind of a dumbass, she's the one that always brings Sage down to earth whenever she gets too stressed. Although she is mostly the source of that stress. Her mom was taken by the rot, but she isn't really sure what it is, so when Thyme mentions it devastating her home she's like "!" so they can actually have something that might bring them together. She decides to take on forging and weapon enchantments so she can have a moment where she steps out of her mom's shadow to do her own thing teehee Sage here is still kind of an ass (her sexist discourse to snap was NOT a Girlboss Moment) but here I think it would be interesting if it was something that other characters think its weird too. Like its a belief ingrained into her together with the more traditional upbringing by her family (thus her only knowing old magic) so it can be part of her character development learning how those thoughts should be changed and that not everyone thinks like that, But she still tries her best to be respectful and kind. (also, her parents sent her to the academy because new magic is VERY new, so the fact that it was being implemented in the curriculum was not widespread, specially in a small town like where she was raised in.) she's an overthinker to the core, so sometimes she needs her friends to calm her down, although sometimes that anxiety is what prepares them for something they weren't even expecting.

Parsley is honestly well written enough in the original show, so the only things I would change is that the progress with the conflict with her parents is stretched a little through episodes, and the conflict is that while her parents want her to be a blacksmith and take on the family business (and help take care of her three thousand simblings) she wishes to go out and do something for herself as a warrior, because she wanting to go to school to become a blacksmith and her parents fighting her on it because they want her to become a blacksmith is kinda dumb. also her short ass hammer feels so weird to watch in the series, so I think that a longer handle would make it a little better. also tiny irony of her weapon being taller than her. Thyme feels like she should be written better because shes the only one that actually has any correlation to the plot, but she kind of... isn't?? I like her backstory of being ran out of the woods she lived in because the rot was devastating it and her dad staying behind to try to solve it, but I think it would be more dramatic if her dad was killed in the conflict but she doesn't know so dramatic moment when she finds something that belonged to him (maybe a little charm she made? for protection? in the way children do that stuff for their parents) and she connects the dots. Also the rot here is because the overuse of the power new magic is able to draw out without the control of old magic is taking too much energy from the earth, and woodsy areas thrive on it, thus the root like structures of the rot. The trees are basically oysters for the magic energy of the world. When its bad, they turn bad too. Also make her more of a "expresses affection through favors and actions, not words" person. She, Rose and Sage took wayy too long to become friends. Amaryllis stays the same because she is perfect and I love her and if you disagree to talk to the wall I personally think Snapdragon is good too but I would make him genderfluid instead. I think that the idea of Caraway THINKING he might be a trans girl but that ending up not the correct answer would reinforce his "there's always more options than you think" speech. And someone needs to point out how he's drawn to women that scream at him. Also we need a better arc with his dad instead of the raw carrot that was the canonical "his dad reinforces toxic masculinity hurr durr" thing we got (that wasn't even well made btw) NOW TO THE SIDIES

Slime boy is now named Slime boy because of an accident he had in potions class the previous year (he's one year older than the main cast) which caused him to continuously produce a slime like substance instead of stuff like spit and sweat. It doesn't inconvenience him a lot other than him making bubbles when he speaks every now and then. He's just an assistant in the terrasphere shop, and the owners are Alloe and Anise (wow they actually do something else in the story!!) but he's mainly just a more experienced student that sometimes knows things the main cast doesn't like secret entrances and cool rooms and stuff. He's a full on bard because that was barely explored in canon and music based attacks are cool. He has the tiniest little crush on parnelle cuz I thought that would be fun Parnelle is ENBY because I SAID SO (and cuz cal is stablished as transphobic and I like payoffs) and since whatever they're doing at the academy is never really clarified, I made them kind of an animal whisperer, like they call on animals to assist them in battle and other stuff. (Maybe then we actually get to see the trixies again after their prolongued mating dance that lead to literally nothing in episode 1) being an animal whisperer is a very rare "old magic" hability thus why they entered the academy one year earlier than expected. They sew their own clothes and are still the generally weird little guy they are in canon, except this time its explained as them preferring to communicate with animals ever since they were a child. They are still very polite and friendly tho, always happy to help. Cal is (his full name is calamagrostis and like if I was named that I'd be an asshole too) still parnelle's cousin, but he doesn't outright bullies them. in fact, he isn't an outright bully, he just tends to look down on other people that don't follow what he believes in, which is a more traditional view on the world, kind of like sage, so I thought of him maybe being a catalyst to her being like "wow I can see why my way of thinking may be bad now, I don't want to be like him" which pushes her to grow and stuff. And I want him to grow as well, so I thought, maybe he and Snapdragon used to be friends, but recently they drifted apart and he started to kind of resent him after he came out as genderfluid, but deep down he still misses his friend, so maybe that pushes his character development. And other people saying that hes kind of a prick. idk I just really hate the trope of a bully character just being there to be the mc's punching bag instead of getting development.

In general, the lore would be (I think, I'm not the best at lore) that Guardians are generally like soldiers, but in a more captain america type of way. they're more like beacons of hope and symbols or power and peace than soldiers are, (thus rosemary knowing a bunch of them as they're usually famous) but they are still required to know combat. High Guardian Academy is known as a guarantee to become a good soldier, and a high chance to become a guardian. They VERY recently implemented new magic in the curriculum, but are experimenting with mixing its high power output with old magic's control of it, (thus why caraway knows how but why none of the students are being thaught it. It's a fairly new tecnique they'd rather get a good grasp on before teaching a bunch of children how to use it) because since they're expertly trained guardians they can tell that a terrasphere takes too much energy above what would be considered okay. They just aren't aware of how much tho, the extent of the rot is a secret held close to their chests by witch country, which is where the terraspheres come from, which has brought them tons of profit and advancements. So when someone knows about the extent, or tries to stop it, they are eliminated, (thus why thyme's dad died. People that stayed in the fairy woods and knew how bad new magic could be were all "silenced" so they could keep profiting out of it.) (Any letters or research about the rot, or from the people that knew, were burned and interfered with, thats why no one else knew about it.) idk what else to talk about cuz this show had such little things to explore but there's so much filler that almost none of it got explored but I think it had potential, even if I prefer to focus on character interactions and how they change eachother. Again, I'm not very good with lore. and plot.

[arthenaa]

Hey bro I like your writing and I was wondering if you could give us some Mizu x Filipino!Reader hcs🥺👉👈 ̶(̶t̶o̶t̶a̶l̶l̶y̶ ̶n̶o̶t̶ ̶g̶o̶n̶n̶a̶ ̶u̶s̶e̶ ̶i̶t̶ ̶t̶o̶ ̶p̶r̶o̶j̶e̶c̶t̶ ̶m̶y̶s̶e̶l̶f̶)̶

I have to make this poetic I'm so sorry but also making it modern!au and canon setting teehee (ALSO DOUBLE UPDATE?) slight nsfw ig!! mdni.

canon divergent, just think of this is as that scene from Goyo where Remedios and Gregorio Pilar do a wholeass pining scene idk

Absolutely met you at some fancy ass noble party

You're a child of a wealthy Senor who's in great partnership with the Lords from the Commonwealth

Mizu's camping in and disguising herself in the party to find more intel on her next target and then she bumps into you

at first you're like very inquisitive of where she came from (considering that you view her as a man at this point), how she enjoys the party and what not

then you're suddenly like ik what you're doing. you're not from here.

Mizu's thrown off bc haha this is an international gathering of sorts and like ppl here are mostly foreign

you're like well its bc you're so obvious when it comes to occasions like this that I've already spotted you from a while back

and so youre like dancing and all and Mizu has no choice but to extract info from you

she reveals that shes looking for a white man, and that he may have connections here in the ph

and coincidence cuz you, who's also a part of the resistance, have been tracing the weapons provider of the spanish army.

so you guys work together. you give her intel, she helps you hunt down the provider and their little goons

it kind of starts like an enemies to lovers .... kind of a forced situation where Mizu has to deal with the resistance in order to get to what she wants but rlly theres no other way around

falls in love w your love for your country

despite your privileged upbringing, you're deeply interconnected with your roots, and have been fighting for the filipino people

you guys fight over the simplest of things, like how she doesnt wear things right or holds weapons correctly

you definitely bond over weaponry though and its history. the first time you've seen her katana, you were so amazed. in return, you showed her a kampilan—a sword carved and forged by your grandfather. she had so many questions.

yeahh overall i think what pulled you together was your shared anger and desperation for justice. No matter the situation, whether it be a resistance against oppression or looking for the man that caused a hellscape within your life, y'all resonated with the emotions and trauma that came with that.

BEST BELIEVE THE SEX WAS GOOD and rough and yes hbejawhejehe mhm

anys thats all. you're like PARA SA PILIPINAS and shes on her knees.

modern au hehe

met through int sch program. mizu is a transferee from japan who joined their uni's international program and got linked w ur sch

she was in one of ur classes and like yeah, she was nearest to u so she had no choice but to ask u for sch stuff

YOU THOUGHT SHE WAS PRETTY CUTE but like u wanted a good impression so u tried to help her as much as u could

even gave her a tour of the campus

showed her a few iconic eating places that she could go to jic her budget was on a limit or wanted good filo food

you wanted to expose her to the culture as slowly as u could just so that she could adapt and pace herself

definitely stuck by your side since then

you learned that she's going to study here for 3 years before going back to japan for her masters, and you're like wow thats so cool and shes like thanks

definitely a gamer

you guys hang out at one of the comp shops nearby (IF NAGAARAL KAYO SA TAFT .... guys suki ako don HAHAHA)

loves learning abt history, esp filipino craftsmanship

you definitely treat her to various street foods

mizu : what's this

you : we call it kwek kwek, but u can call it neon balls

mizu: neon balls????

showed and taught her how public transpo works once, and she gets a hang of it a week later

knows her way around manila than you do (author is projecting mb)

knows basic filo words when navigating. you teach her the slang.

basically friends to lovers guys omg, ayon sana all eme

you do that lips thing where you point w ur lips and at first, she was so confused (this is during your relationship)

she thought you were asking for a kiss and she kissed u and you were like ?!@!?@??$?

mizu: ha

you: I WAS ASKING FOR THE,ASd MUGWTF

mizu: ahhh my bad haha

walks u to class teehee

hangs around in empty class rooms esp comp labs and you guys watch movies there

momol sa dorm, momol sa clasroom na madilim, momol sa may agno charot

MOMOL = MAKE OUT MAKE OUT LANG

revels in simple pda like linking ur pinkies together, thigh against thigh when seating, and just yk so landi. landi niyo.

you have her id pic on the back of ur id and she yours on her clear phonecase

EWWWW GAY PPL (affectionate)

unintentionally matching

loves gifting u jewelry esp necklaces (likes to see it when u guys are in the bedroom, splayed on your chest and just yk decorating your collarbones so nicely)

holds your hand and helps you cross the street omf

pays for ur commute fee when riding the jeepney

memorizes ur kwek kwek and fishball sauce combination

loves exchanging one shoe w u for funsies

loves taking pics w u w the cats on campus

OVERALL A CUTIE TEEHEE!

A/N: DEDICATED KAY DELULU RECEIVER!! eto para sayo sorry ginutom keta ng sobra huhu @ianiralvs may isa pa kong utang sayo na req mo hihi gagawen ko pa yon to muna HHAHHAHA