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#this is about the 'if it's empowering for you - good for you! - but it's not for everybody' posts
ge-nde-rr-env-y · 16 hours
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i played owen carvour in a production of spies in sydney, and tcb i have a confession i added a line. in the man behind the curtain reveal, owen says "if it hadn't been for my spot on aim and interest in foreign policy, i might have been an actor." i had about a month between application and audition and i was sitting on the first paragraph for so long and i got a bit bored. so i added "and you know, being blackmailed by the english" to that list. it added this manic, pained spark to the moment. fuel for the fire.
i dont know what joey thinks about owens history, but i gave him a timeline. born 1926 (nov 14th. scorpio bitch.), his fine family home destroyed in the Blitz, he enlists for some income (and maybe to escape home) at 17 in 1943, too young, but he's slick and clever enough to pass as an adult. 1945, right before the end of the war, he sees something he shouldnt have. the higher ups in a below the table deal that could ruin a lot of rich and powerful peoples lives if it reaches the wrong hands. owen carvours hands were the wrong hands. but he's a remarkable soldier, he's quick, he's a master tactician, and he's Good At Lying. hes useful. so instead of taking him out. someone says "hey kid. howd you like to be a secret agent. -also if you say no you'll die-" no choice. he'll continue to live at the behest of a governments will.
he doesnt Like being a spy, but its not the worst thing in the world. he likes the more decadent aspects, certainly, and deception not only comes naturally, but brings a sort of thrill.
he doesn't like being a spy until he meets curt mega. this part of his history is a bit blurry, but i imagine them meeting sometime near 1952 (because of the song Video Killed The Radio Star), surely on the job somewhere. curt makes spying fun. and curt is the first real thing owen has had reliably since 1943. he doesnt change, hes delightfully predictable, and despite him appearing somewhat less intelligent than owen, he has this knack for seeing straight through to owens heart. curt is daring, where owen might be intially more cautious. curt has the guts to get the two of them *into* situations, where owen has the tactician skill to get them *out*.
i think owen got comfortable. tragically, the two of them were so in sync, so reliant on each other, that he didnt see the fall coming at all.
it wasnt the fall that hurt. it was watching curt walk away. he'd always thought that if this were to happen, theyd go down together.
CHIMERA found him in the rubble, a boy who'd always been controlled, who'd never really got a chance to live a life of his own, and saw a man who was easy both to manipulate, and to empower.
they weren't aggressive about their agenda because they knew what would happen. the founder/ceo (a man i have decided is named Thomas) simply let owen recover in their facilities and let him free when he was able to leave, with an explanation of their plan, and an offer of further help should he require it.
owen broke within a month. a string of killings across europe simply attributed to an individual named The Deadliest Man Alive. CHIMERA drags owen back by the scruff of his neck.
"what the hell do you think you're doing."
"what? who are they going to arrest? owen carvours fucking dead."
its very important to me that owen wasnt brainwashed by CHIMERA. every choice has to come from him because the catharsis of him fully believing in the ideology he carries out with his chest for the first time is just delicious.
he doesnt. hate curt. i dont think. he loves curt, and he hates the institution of Espionage that forced them into this. but ultimately, that institution is so driven into curt that owen cant get what he really wants, which is to break curt out of that and have him all to himself. coldest goodbye reprise is a moment of sorrowful acceptance for both of them. owen understands that curt is always going to be a spy, no matter what, and giving up on the fantasy he had.
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themonotonysyndrome · 8 hours
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Ě̸̡̞̱̘̹̮̫͚̯͍͕̟̪͂̀̋̉̾͛̂̑̅͜͝c̴̢̺̟̣̠̤̽͋͒̄̄͂̆̿͗̑̊̒̒̕ḧ̷͇͍͉͉̺͈͙́̀͆̀̒̒̅̒͒̔̽ó̶͔̜̓͛̓̂̔̆͌́͆̉͂͘͝͠es of regrets
So! I saw this post from @rivyx (if you like, I can untag you. Just wanna give credit where credit is due):
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And I thought:
"Man. It's been a while since I broke my own heart. Oh! Angst between Geordi and Cutie? How about I make Geordi regret for making Cutie believe that they need to multiate and hide the magical part of themselves and even the Empowered world because he doesn't understand a Telepath's needs?"
Hence. This oneshot. Shout out to @moonandstarlightsposts for helping me come up with the title!
(Yes. Yes. I know. Cutie was canonically at fault, too. I just wanna focus on Geordi regretting his actions for a change.)
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Summary: Second chances come and go. But for Geordi and Cutie, perhaps they should have let it go by.
First comes the awkwardness. 
It’s to be expected. A break was decided - no, needed - for the both of them after… well. No point in digging up bad memories. The two of them were heading down a dangerous spiral, and Geordi could no longer ignore the red flags. He’d been through too much to drown in toxicity and abuse again. Whether his partner realised it or not. And that’s the part that crushed his heart. A heart that Geordi painstakingly put back together with liquid gold and long nights of tearful frustrations. He told them about Ben. He told them how his ex callously disregarded his boundaries. And Cutie just - 
Therapy was something they agreed to during their break. Geordi needed to address old trauma that re-open like wounds and Cutie - 
‘I… I hope this isn’t me coming across as presumptuous, but one of my coworkers is a really good therapist. I think you’ll like him! His name is Cam - ’
‘I still have my old therapist’s number. Um. Thanks, though.’
‘O-Oh! Right. Of course. I should’ve thought of that. I just… never mind.’
That was the last text that Cutie sent. Even after they moved out of his apartment, the two continued to exchange careful messages with one another, awkwardly making sure not to step on each other’s landmines. However, as days gone by, the texts became more and more superficial: ’Morning. Have you eaten?’. ‘Just cereal. Thanks for checking up on me.’ ‘The weather forecast mentioned a thunderstorm. Don’t forget an umbrella, ok?’. When Cutie brought the subject of therapists to the table - 
The texts stopped after that. 
Geordi had no idea how lonely his existence truly was without Ben and Cutie. The two-bedroom apartment became too big. He cooked too much for a single person. His left side felt too exposed whenever his coworkers dragged him out for drinks and karaoke. It hurts. He has a habit of rubbing his left arm nowadays. 
His therapist is a kind woman, the kind that has laugh lines all over her face. Older than him, more at ease with her place in the world, unlike Geordi. She never judges him whenever he finds the courage to unravel before her. Ugly, jagged broken pieces for a heart. Gold and bitter tears for the next few months. 
Soon, a year passes. 
Something settled within Geordi then. New foundations were built. The world is a little less lonely now that he has opened up to his coworkers, reached out to some cousins on phones and slowly put himself out there again. He had fallen in love with building LEGOs recently. A hobby that happily kept him occupied while a slow, reverb version of Evil by Melanie Martinez plays in the background of the living room. 
It took a while, but he finally reached a point and mental headspace to put Cutie back into the equation. 
His therapist's words constantly echo in his head, grounding him whenever his fingertips run on the rim of their favourite mug, red with little ladybugs on the ceramic. Witty, funny, confident, mischievous and kind - Cutie’s best would always outshine their worst in Geordi’s eyes. Perhaps that’s why he subconsciously ignores the raising red flags the more and more they tested his boundaries. Anyway, being with Cutie brought out the best of Geordi in return, which he never even knew existed. He loved them, plain and simple. He loves learning about them and their world every day of the week. He was so happy and content whenever they were in his arms. Growing old together was something he thought about when they drove back home from his folks’. Cutie was fast asleep, with their head gently resting against the window of the car. That moment was magical in its own way. 
Geordi misses them. His incredible, one-of-a-kind partner. 
He thinks about them more often than not nowadays, wondering how therapy is going for them. Had they fallen in love with any new hobbies? Did Cutie make any new friends outside of the Department? If so, he wonders what they’re like. 
Thoughts turn to yearning. Yearning turns to Geordi, picking up his phone and texting Cutie first for once.
‘Hey. Good morning. How are you?’
The two of them never used to be awkward when they were a couple. Feeling hopeful, Geordi puts aside his phone as he continues about his day. Fixing himself a hearty lunch using a recipe that he can’t wait to share with Cutie and goes about doing the laundry afterwards. It’s only after his evening shower that a notification lights up on his phone screen. 
‘Hey. I’m alright. You?’
Superficial. That’s OK, though. Geordi is not giving up. 
The two resume texting every day soon enough as if the distance weren’t ever there. It makes him happy to be updated with every little thing that is going on in Cutie’s life. He spams GIFs and emojis at every picture they share and they, in return, slowly start to send over recorded audio of their little laughter and quips. It makes him miss them all the more. Enough to replay those audios over and over again whenever he can’t sleep at night. During those nights, his phone would always be on the right side of the bed.
Texting eventually evolves to calling when Geordi wakes up from a rather bad nightmare. Something so vague that it slipped from the recess of his conscious as he panted for air. Without even thinking about it, he presses on a familiar number. His call is answered almost immediately. 
“Geordi? Why are you awake around this hour?”
Relief floods into his very being. They once fondly tease him that, no, their voice isn’t magic. Unlike Vampires and their special eyes, Telepaths specialised in minds instead. It’s his love that makes their voice special and it’s love that dispels the lingering nightmare. 
“Geordi?” Cutie’s voice is hesitant at the end of the line. “Is everything ok? Do you have someone nearby that you can call for help?” 
“No! No, no. I’m fine.” Comes his quick assurance. The shirt that he brought to sleep is drenched in sweat. His hair is matted to his forehead. He feels gross, and yet he doesn’t want to put Cutie on loudspeaker while he cleans himself up. “I just… really miss you. So much.” 
Cutie’s reply is a whisper, “I-I miss you too. Can I ask if that’s the reason why you called me?” 
“Yeah… had a nightmare; can’t remember what it was about. What I do remember is how you used to bring me to the kitchen, and you’d make warm chocolate milk for the both of us to help. You’d then talked me through it, helped me calm me down. Did I ever thank you for that? Thank you, by the way.” 
“You’re welcome. I like taking care of you. And, uh, you did thank me. Always.” 
Geordi lets out a ragged sigh. Those happy moments were just what he needed. “Did I wake you up? I didn’t mean to.” 
“Nah, you’re good. I was doing some leftover documents for an assignment.” 
Cutie never used to stay up past midnight. They like to sleep early whenever they can due to how mentally, emotionally, and physically taxing their job as an intel extraction officer can be. Cutie often rants about how the Department inefficiently run things, especially when it comes to bureaucracy. Perhaps this is one of their new habits? Speaking of which - 
“How’s work treating you? Did you get that promotion?” 
“Work’s alright. Are you feeling better now?” 
Well, his heart was no longer racing, that’s for sure. But he still wants to hear their voice even through the static. “Like magic. You’re always the perfect cure for everything.” He waits for Cutie to laugh in that out-of-breath sort whenever he compliments them. Light and carefree.
Instead, they hum. 
“Glad to hear it. Are you going to try and go back to sleep?” 
“Only when you are, Cutie.” Geordi tries to flirt and perhaps coax them to rest for the evening. 
“Don’t worry about me. I’ll go to bed in a bit. Um. If that’s all - ”
Perhaps it’s because the nightmare that he can no longer recall had something to do with Cutie. Perhaps it’s because he hasn’t heard their voice properly in so, so long. Whatever it is, it gave Geordi a burst of courage. He quickly asks before Cutie can hang up, “Wait, wait! Can I see you, Cutie? I just want to talk. Please?” He swallowed thickly. “I think we’re ready to discuss about… us.” 
A thoughtful silence from Cutie. 
“I’d like that. Where do you want to meet up?” 
Geordi’s night becomes much sweeter after that. They talk and plan until his eyes grow heavy and Cutie’s documents are filed away. They even put him on loudspeaker and brought him to the bathroom so they could continue talking while they showered. God, the sounds of running water alone fill him with wants and images. He can’t stop picturing himself in that shower with them. So you can’t blame how incredibly giddy Geordi is when he finally sees Cutie walk up to the cafe the next day. They offered him a small smile as they made themselves comfortable across the table. Healthy and rocking a new fashion style when Geordi is busy absorbing every little detail about them. He could honestly stare at them like a work of art in the Louvre. 
“So I’m here…” Cutie says rather unnecessarily. They scratch their cheek nervously. “You wanted to talk?” 
He snaps out of a daze. Shit, he got distracted by his thoughts! For a split second, Geordi can’t help but wonder if they heard his inner ramblings. Judging by Cutie’s guarded expression, he lets out a sigh of relief. It sets his heart at ease to learn about this new side of Cutie. “Yeah. Thanks for agreeing to meet up with me. You look… god, Cutie. You look amazing.” 
“Thanks! You’re not too bad on the eye yourself.” Cutie’s smile is wider now. “We’ve practically caught up to speed with each other lives for a while now. So, this is it. Whatever you decide, I’ll respect it this time. I promise.” 
That assurance dissolves any doubts that Geordi might have harboured. He’s more sure about his next few words than ever before. “I still want us to be together, Cutie. That never changed. Even when we were on a break, I had no one else. I love you, even when you broke my heart. Do you… do you still feel the same?” 
Cutie reaches out to hold his hand, which is gripping a fork so tightly. He didn’t even realise it. The moment when skin meets skin, a familiar warmth spread across his arm. It’s like sunshine thawing out the chills in his bone marrow. He lets go of the fork in favour of holding their hand and squeezes it. “My feelings haven’t changed too. I love you so damn much, Geordi. I know I said it before, but I’m so sorry for hurting you. Words alone aren’t enough to promise you that I won’t do it again, but I’ll make sure my actions make up for it. From now on, you’ll lead where this relationship is going. I’ll follow” Steely determination glimmers behind Cutie’s eyes. God, they look so hot! Would his therapist finally judge him if he asked Cutie to drag him to the bathroom for a quickie? It’s been too long since they’re in him. 
“Geordi? Are you ok? You look flush.” Some of that hesitation creeps back into Cutie. Dimming that spark of fire. He panics when their hand tugs back. 
“Yeah! Sorry. My head’s a bit of a mess.” He begins to explain. Here, he lowered his voice; his eyes lidded. “Maybe you can make sense of it? You might like what you find, Cutie…” 
“Oh!” For some reason, Cutie looks positively alarmed. A deer in a headlight. He had never seen that kind of look on their face before. Their sudden reaction threw Geordi off guard. Any lustful thoughts are completely replaced with concern now. “Maybe later. So, uh, where do we go from here? I can’t move back in just yet due to my apartment lease. Or do you want things to stay as they are right now for a little while longer?” 
Continue this distance between them? Geordi doesn’t think he’s that strong of a man.
“Feel free to move in any time you can. My place is your home. You know that.” 
That gorgeous smile slowly returns. This is Cutie at their best. After that day, things begin falling into place without a hitch. Cutie is back in his life. They bring their clothes and toiletries over when their lease is up - 
“You kept my mug?” 
“Of course I did, silly. Why would I throw it out?” 
“Right… right. Sorry.” 
“Cutie? Is something wrong?” 
“Nah, don’t worry about it. Say, that recipe you bookmarked earlier, why don’t you let me take a crack at it? I’ll handle dinner tonight!” 
- their routines fall into one once more, and Geordi couldn’t be happier. His world is no longer filled with silence and bitterness.
Second comes the realisation. 
Geordi has been riding high on cloud nine ever since Cutie settled back into his apartment, into his life. Waking up to their sleeping face feels like a dream that he never wants to end. Their giggling when he rouses them with kisses is a bonus. He loves greeting the morning sun with a partner who is happy and satiated from the night before. And if Cutie is in the mood to play? Well! He’s more than happy to ruin the sheets for the third time in the span of six hours. 
And don’t even get him started on domestic bliss. 
Since Cutie’s work hours are a lot more flexible than Geordi’s, he’s forever grateful that they always have a pot of hot coffee ready for him on the table and a sweet kiss before he dashes out for the day. If he returns before traffic picks up in the evening, the couple would either go out for a dinner date or stay at home and binge-watch a new series while they eat in the living room. They alternate in cooking and cleaning depending on their schedule, but Cutie seems to have a habit of doing both whenever they can. The coworkers that he invited over for DnD sessions would whistle and nudge him on the shoulder when they looked around the spotless apartment, praising him for scoring the perfect partner after Cutie left them with a tray of snacks and drinks. Internally, Geordi preens. 
When the weekends roll around, and it’s just the two of them lazying together in their sweats and old t-shirts, Geordi and Cutie would spend time together by combining their new hobbies. Geordi would lose himself in another LEGO building project while Cutie reads a novel on their phone on the couch. His favourite playlists play on and on, wrapping the couple in a peaceful cocoon. 
That is until - 
Geordi blinks, back in the present, when he suddenly hears the sliding door of the balcony softly shut. He sees Cutie outside talking on the phone, their back against him. He watches them moving their free hand animatedly for a few seconds longer before focusing back on the tower that he had been building. When the sliding door shuts again, he absentmindedly asks, “Hey, Cutie? What are you in the mood for lunch? Do you want to go to that Chinese restaurant down the street or…” His words trail off the moment he notices the frustrated lines on his partner's forehead. Their eyes were exhausted all of a sudden. Before he could say anything, his partner flashed an apologetic smile. 
“Work called. Something came up. I need to step out in a bit, but I should have some time to make lunch - ”
Geordi stops them right there and then. He doesn’t want them to get more stressed out, especially when an emergency - he assumed - just happened. “No, no. Don’t sweat it. How about you go get ready while I make us lunch? I’d rather you have something in your stomach before you leave.” He replies, already up on his feet. 
Deer in a headlight on Cutie. Again. What’s going on? “I can do it. It’s your rest day after all - ”
“Nu-uh. You just get your pretty ass in the shower, alright? I’ll have your favourites ready as soon as you step out of our bedroom door again.” Geordi assures them, but in reality? He’s so confused. They never so stressed out about cooking before. Seriously, what’s going on? 
Cutie eventually nods. They kiss him on the cheek and make a beeline for the bathroom while Geordi takes out a wok and spatula. Their strange behaviour remains in his mind as he makes spicy stir-fry noodles. Now that he thinks about it, they’ve been going along with everything he likes nowadays. Cooking his favourite meals, making sure the laundry is clean and folded, helping him with the LEGOs, hanging out with his friends and letting him initiate intimacy and sex every time. They laugh when he tells jokes, as cheesy as they are. Apart from their clothes and toiletries, they haven’t brought back their Digimon plushies, or any of their physical books on the shelves. They hate horror movies, but when he absentmindedly suggests they watch Saint Maud, they agree without any hesitation. 
It’s like they’re a satellite, faithfully orbiting Geordi’s every need and want. Why… why did he never notice that before? And when was the last time they went out to Cutie’s favourite restaurant again? When was the last time they did what Cutie wanted for a change? 
Ah. Geordi remembers now. It was before they went on a break. 
Something’s wrong with Cutie. Shit! Why didn’t he notice it before!? Was he truly caught up in his own world that he utterly neglected his partner’s? 
The noodles are hot and plated, ready on the table, but Geordi feels so cold and empty. Guilt was heavy in his stomach. His grin is stiff when Cutie finally emerges wearing their standard work fit. Even in black slacks and a white collared shirt, Cutie looks like a model ready for the runway. They tuck into their meal, but Geordi doesn’t have much appetite for it. So many thoughts clash with one another in his head like angry hornets. He doesn’t even know where to start or what to ask. At times like this, Cutie would slip into his mind and act as his anchor. But ever since they got back together again - 
“What time would you be coming home?” Is what comes out from Geordi’s lips, frustrated with himself. 
Cutie stops washing their dishes to turn around. “If all goes well? In the evening. Probably before midnight, so you don’t have to wait up or put aside dinner for me. I can just grab something when I leave the office.” 
And that’s another thing that Geordi just now realised. They don’t talk about work as much as they did before. When asked, sure, Cutie would always answer him, but it was never more than a, “Oh, my cases? Some old, same old.”, “These documents are pretty boring, actually. Something for the higher-ups to keep in their record.”, “The therapist I mentioned before? Oh, you mean Cam? He’s still working on the floor above mine.” Lukewarm. Tepid. Those are the kinds of replies that Cutie would often give him before the conversation seamlessly shifts to another topic. 
Not once have they performed magic around him. In fact, ever since they got back together again, Cutie’s voice is constantly absent in his mind. 
Suddenly, Geordi feels sick. He forces himself to put on a brave face, a mask that tells his partner that everything is alright, because their eyebrows begin to furrow in hesitation. 
And now he knows why. 
“Call me when you leave?” Geordi tries not to plead. His voice didn’t crack, that good. The last thing he wants is to get the love of his life in trouble with their superiors. They never did tell him if they received that promotion or not. 
It’s a bittersweet victory when Cutie smiles again. “Sure! Have fun with your project, baby.” 
They exchange a long kiss; he wonders if they find it weird that Geordi is reluctant to pull their lips away from him. He weeps and weeps into his hands when they leave the apartment. What has he done? Oh god, Cutie… he didn’t mean to. He didn’t mean to drive them into cutting a part of themselves in order to make him happy. He didn’t mean to be so blinded when they made themselves smaller and smaller if that’s what they thought would make him happy. Would let them stay in his life. 
He didn’t mean to hurt Cutie. He didn’t mean for any of this to happen! He thought that - he had hoped they got better, not - why couldn’t they just talk - has he become Ben? 
Mrs Potato Head plays on and on while Geordi struggles to breathe. 
Finally, in comes the heartbreak. 
Geordi didn’t even wait for Cutie to come back. The moment he regained control of himself, he ran out with his phone and wallet. His eyes are rimmed-red, just like the setting sun behind him. He knows which streets are veiled against people like him; he just hopes he can ask for help from any Empowered folks who might be entering the Department. He has to fix this. He desperately needs to talk to Cutie. He needs them to know that he loves every part of them, that he loves the magical world as much as they do. 
However, when he cuts through the park, he freezes. 
Sitting on a bench a little further from the playground is his partner, crying in the arms of a stranger. Cracks begin to form in Geordi’s heart. He’s too far away to hear what they’re saying, but judging from how the stranger does the talking and Cutie sighs and sniffles, it clued him in pretty quickly that they’re talking through him via telepathy. The stranger smiles sadly and offers them a handkerchief. His body language is serene, but the expression on his beautiful face is tight and worried. Is he a coworker? Another lover? Geordi doesn’t know what to believe anymore. Stricken, he watches them pat the stranger’s hand and gathers up their things. Leaving him on the bench as Cutie makes their way out of the park. 
It’s at that moment that Geordi’s phone rings. He answers the call without a word. 
“Hey, baby. Just left the office.” Cutie’s voice is hoarse. They clear their throat. This time, they sound more like themselves again - fake and bright. “Turns out one of the interns needed a stand-in instructor for tomorrow’s fieldwork. Since I’m on the way home, do you want me to grab anything?” 
Geordi watches them wait at the same bus stop from which he just got off. “Why haven’t you talked to me through my head?” 
“…Geordi, I’m out right now. Can we maybe talk about this at home?” 
“OK. Why have you stopped ironing your work clothes with your hands?” 
“I-I like using your new iron instead. What’s going on, Geordi? Did I do something wrong? Look, tell me how I can fix it, please? I don’t… I don’t know what I did wrong…” 
Is this how it will always be when they’re together? Hurting each other whether they mean to or not? Acts of love turning into subservience? 
The weaker side of him can’t help but wonder if it was a mistake for him and Cutie to get back together again if it means new sorrows and new regrets will always sour their relationship. 
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fighting-naturalist · 9 months
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Daniel in "Resurrection"
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uncanny-tranny · 11 months
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The reality of being a survivor is that the person or people who hurt you might just get to live full, rich lives and leave you behind. It's a perverse feeling, and it's true that that is fucked up. It feels like they still control you even when they're out of your life, and you feel trapped. However, you still deserve to be happy, to be fulfilled. Your life hasn't ended because they stole parts of it. They will never truly be able to take the essence of who you are.
Remembering this has taken the edge off of this thought. I won't ever give my abusers that power over me ever again. They never fucking deserved that.
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anglerflsh · 11 months
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thedreadvampy · 24 days
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Jujitsu class got me showing up to work with somewhat suspicious bruising and a sore neck from being choked. 10/10 would recommend.
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feelslikegold · 6 days
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no see what we’re not going to keep doing is still think it’s okay to comment on jake’s weight?????
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theridgebeyond · 10 months
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Spoilers for Barbie ahead, I guess. But who in the writer’s room looked at that plot line and thought, “Yes. Feminism.” ??
The citizens of Barbie Land spend the entire movie fighting for privilege, not any sort of freedom (I borrowed that quote from the interview with Alok on the Man Enough Podcast 10/10 recommend). Over half the movie is about how awful it is to be a woman in the real world, and then they literally treat the Kens the way women are treated in the real world. That’s canon. The narrator says it Herself.
We never learn where the Kens live. For all we know, when the precious status quo was restored at the end, they just made half the population of Barbie Land homeless.
Yay, girl power.
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2003daredevil · 3 months
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Listening to Talkville really showcases the sort of generational difference from that time. Like the way they view Jonathan (and Jon Schneider who is very much the same type of guy but Worse) as some sort of harmless good ole boy really solidifies how pervasive that American myth is.
"Jonathan is the reason Clark became the man he became." Deeply ashamed of himself? Secretive and isolating? Blaming himself for problems outside of his control to the point where he's suicidal? Because Clark is all of those things.
His ignoring of Clark's fears about Whitney just bc 'he should respect veterans' dismissing Clark explaining how his new teacher is trying to SA him, "Do what the cops tell you even if you haven't done anything wrong." Telling him he can't ever be his true self around anyone or he'll either make that person"s life worse or end up being reviled by the world or some sort of lab rat. Putting that fear in him so deeply that we can see in the ep Splinter that it's pretty much his greatest fear. Encouraging Clark to treat Lex badly because of who his father is. Getting jealous of Martha when she started to have a job for herself, being on Clark's ass for wanting to spend time with his friends.
Jonathan Kent was NOT harmless and he sure as shit isn't the origin of the Superman. Using his powers to help people, finding love with Lois, moving to Metropolis and having a career, if Jonathan didn't die when he did he'd have spent the rest of the show shaking his head in disapproval at Clark trying to have some kind of happiness for himself.
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frankbelloriley · 9 months
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Just a friendly reminder that you do not know celebrities in person, and the image they give the public is carefully curated by a team of publicists with a collective salary in the millions of dollars.
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miamignonette · 3 months
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“regina george and sharpay weren’t villains they were just strong women!!” they were also bullies? they like, actively sabotaged other people’s lives and insulted their appearances and took pleasure in it? regina george is sooo much worse given that she’s from a movie that isn’t geared toward the disney channel demographic and she can call girls ugly sluts in every scene. this conversation isn’t actually that serious, it’s mostly just funny, but it’s incredible how people manage to miss the point that badly 😭
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embryhallowed · 3 months
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That moment when you gotta talk in depth about Astarion, his tragic backstory, and his quest line, with your therapist for reasons 😅😅
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fate-motif · 1 year
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time has passed since i first saw voyager and joined the fandom and at that point the consensus on tumblr was that harry was gay, gay, gay, and that all his flings in the delta quadrant with women don’t really mean anything and i guess that’s valid for a lot of gay fans. i certainly am not going to stop them. but i feel like there’s something worth rescuing in harry’s (admittedly checkered, because the writers could not let harry have a nice time without him being harassed or get an STD) sex life given he was an asian american man in a show from the 90s. when asian men were not considered to be masculine enough to be worthy of being sexually desired by women
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nhaneh · 1 month
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funny thing is I don't really have any interest in hoarding knowledge or resources for myself in any way, I'm just bad at publishing stuff because I feel like that'd require a bit more stringent quality control than what I might expect of something made largely for my own use.
sometimes I think maybe I should set up something like a google drive or a git or something to just throw my personal- and work-in-progress stuff for people who are interested, but I dunno what limits for space or bandwidth or anything are like.
like I'm sure some people would possibly find the ColorSet unpacker python script useful?? It kinda sucks through and I want to make a better version of it and maybe one that could work as a standalone executable instead? and possibly a packer counterpart to the unpacker?? But also I keep thinking like "would this even be useful to anyone lmao??"
in theory you could probably make some kind of art program plugin that does all of this for you - even the bit with loading actual colorset information into layered colorset pairs, but I mean that's a lot of effort and I still largely use a 20+ year old version of Paint Shop Pro myself so...
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tgirlsaintlawrence · 7 months
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Is it me or is Jennifer’s Body the greatest horror movie every made
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redactedresearch · 1 year
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i wonder about the modern retellings of persephone's abduction and how it reflects society's (children of all ages) views of their mothers
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