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when i die put me in an airfry

@bigleoenergy

she/her

Years on the internet and somehow i still click on comments sections with the insanely optimistic idea that I'll learn something new instead of being subjected to the dumbest motherfuckers online typing like their sole purpose in life is to make me want to end mine

"Wow, what an interesting post! I want to see what sort of fascinating discourse is being generated by the idea posited by the original poster" <- Me, operating under levels of delusion yet unexplained by modern science

Hey so your girlfriend got put into a fandom and um, they kinda. Yeah they made her the Mean Lesbian Friend. Yeah it's entirely because she's the only girl who's not overtly caring or kind. Sorry. Also they-- yeah she's characterized entirely as a wingman for the popular gay ship. Sorry again

"This is so me lol" "I do this" this is a complaint post. This is a post complaining about when this happens. This post is about the constant 1-dimensional characterization that happens to women characters in fandom when they are not cute or nice. The last part especially is complaining about how once these women are made Mean Lesbians they are characterized entirely though their "endearingly rude" support of a relationship between two men.

it does not matter if you have a genuine desire to do good (kendall) or a deep capacity for love (roman) or have comparatively progressive politics and are a victim of the misogynistic environment your father created (shiv). because if your sense of self is so intrinsically tied to oppressive capitalist structures, what good are your best impulses, your love, your decency? waystar is them and they are waystar what does any kindness they possess actually matter if they are only capable of acting upon it within the framework of the fascistic, patriarchal corporation that they have no desire to escape?

parents are so crazy because they can say the most fucked up shit to you when your brain is forming and it sets the tone for your whole adult mind set and then they forget about it the next day

when you’re pet pet petting your sweet little baby cat on her sweet little pumpkin head but then she starts to get overstimulated and her little tail is swooshing back and forth and you can Tell all her ancient beast instincts are kicking in telling her to maul the shit out of your hand, and she looks SO forlorn because she actually wanted more cuddles but also there’s only so much a little animal can do to contain her impulses and she looks at you w the biggest wettest saddest eyes like

Ares in Mythology:

  • Kills the guy who tried to assault his daughter and refused to apologize for it when he got put on trial (it was ruled justifiable homicide by Athena btw). 
  • The only time he’d been captured in battle was when he was protecting his mom from being captured by giants who wanted to forcibly marry her.
  • Found and Freed Thanatos when he was imprisoned by Sisyphus when no other Gods could
  • Helps found the Amazons by helping their founder escape her abusive husband and becomes their patron God.
  • Genuinely loves and respects Aphrodite as her own person
  • One of his epithets is “feasted by women”.

Ares in Modern Media: 

  • Meatheaded sexist asshole out of an eighties teen movie.

Conclusion: My boy is getting done dirtier than Hades in modern representation. Ares is one of the least problematic Gods in the pantheon (except for the murders, I will grant you) and ya’ll are sleeping on him.

Kendall Roy is like Hamlet if Hamlet's dead dad was King Lear and Hamlet’s brother was Macbeth, but they were both trapped in the plot of Richard III which is to say that Kendall Roy is a character of all time, an endless babushka doll of all Shakespeare's failkings and their pursuits of hollow crowns.

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succession is ultimately about siblings. of course kendall won't choose his daughter, whom he barely knows, over getting back at the sister he has loved and envied since before she could walk. and when everything is done, shiv is staring at roman because she can't believe the one closest to her did what he did. and it's why roman will die without his siblings because he has no other sense of direction, he doesn't know how to survive outside the pack. you think you're a real person, but you're not. i am the real you're the real me.

There was a sound from the dark edges of the hall, like the sound of something hard tapping on the stone walls. Cassandra turned to see a flash of golden hair. For a god named Phoebus, Apollo was all too skilled in hiding in the darkness. As he approached, the pale moonlight slowly revealed his features. His wore a grin like the one Cassandra had observed in young boys when they crushed anthills under their sandals, though there was a glint to his eyes--ever present--that sent her heart skittering like a frightened animal. He was not quite human, no one who looked at him for long could mistakenly think otherwise. The cut of his jaw was too perfect, his eyes too cold and distant, his posture too practiced and his footfalls too light.

"You aren't going to warn him?" He asked, light glinting off his eyes in a display of spiteful delight.

"No." Cassandra wiped the tears from her cheeks, stood up straighter. She tried to appear as the proud princess of Troy she was meant to be, as if she hadn't burst into tears only moments ago at the sight of her brother holding his son.

"Why not?" The way Apollo's features twisted was unnatural, an uncanny display of disingenuous concern. He did not quite manage to wipe the smirk off his golden face.

Cassandra balled her fists at her sides. "I will not give you the satisfaction. It would please you, wouldn't it, far-shooter, to see me beg at my brother's feet? Sob and kiss his hands and insist that he not return to war?"

"Oh, it would." Apollo agreed, his grin stretching just too far to look right. He pleased himself, when he was like this.

"Then I will not." Cassandra insisted, trying to sound proud although she did not feel it.

"Not yet, perhaps." Apollo waved off the delay in the inevitable as if it meant nothing to him. Of course it meant nothing to him, he was a god. It would only seem a short wait. He shook his head after a moment, like the agitated lion shaking his mane to free himself of petulant flies. "It did not have to be like this. I could have made you a deathless one like me, taken you as a wife. None of this would have mattered then."

Cassandra paused. For a moment, she felt as though all the air in the room had been pulled from her lungs. Apollo may as well have been making the argument over her eldest brother's corpse. "No, you couldn't have." She said quietly. Realization crept over her like a chill which reached the bones. "It did have to be this way. You knew as much. You must have."

Apollo's features had gone stony. He did not rage loudly. She knew this from only once before, but it was like a horrible storm that one did not so easily forget, but Cassandra had long since grown too tired to fear him.

"You knew, Foreseer, and you condemned me to your own wrath the moment you asked." She spat the words like venom.

Apollo looked least like a human, now. His expression was an unearthly cold and his skin seemed drawn taut over his faultless features. "What is it our dear Helenus says, princess?" When he spoke, his words were scathing. They reverberated in the air in a way words spoken so softly should not. "It is not about who will win or lose, one must learn to enjoy the game. He always did understand that better than you."