Literally any fandom with a pretty princess style deadpanned MC(GN because every can wear a dress and rock it) or a Giselle embodiment MC
I'll be focusing on Twst because i can
Here's the outfit
I'm going insane
Imagine them seeing you sing this song with literal rodents and freaking out yet you're just there like :> ?
Like you step into NRC all pretty and wearing white as if you don't stand out and looking like a RSA student but they'll get use to you. Mistaken you calling/singing for your critter friends as your power because of course they did.
Mistaken as a royalty before you corrected them. Malleus is probably on one knee by now before you. Gothic husband with the opposite of him kind of spouse.
You remind me of @shiny-jr 's fanfic where I think it's called "Damnation" the king of roses on where you're that king but without the crybaby trait. Red Queen and the White King(Non accurate 😱😱)
Leona either detest you or gone soft on you but he's still toxic either way because he might try to manipulate you at first because he thought you were royalty, sorry Leona fans. Sebek can't even yell at you without feeling guilty bless him. Cater on those photographs of you looking aesthetically pleasing and Vil asking for a collab or cooking up poison.
I'm done for now.
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Tbf BNHA is and has always been confused messaging-wise. It opens with Deku saying: “humans are not made equal” and showing us all of the foul ways quirkless people are treated. Narratively, this is of course seen as bad, but there’s an underlying principle in the narrative there that’s never actively challenged (and there’s not enough time to make it satisfying if they do) that yes, humans really aren’t born equal. That yes, you see SOME characters overcome their limitations (but even then, like in the case of Deku, it’s because of a big narrative magical moment) but they’re largely confined to the roles expected of them. Power in BNHA is never really given to the powerless, a character like Toga or Shigaraki can’t be saved, and power is never truly denied to those who shouldn’t have it— Endeavor is given a dignity his victims weren’t afforded.
And though I don’t think this is wrong to do in a story in and of itself, I think it is at odds with the way it sets itself up in the opening. The first thing we see in BNHA is everyone telling Deku he can't be a hero with no quirk. The story should be set up to disprove that. To show that his heroic qualities are in and of themselves what makes him a hero. But every time in the narrative where it's his character that makes the difference, he kind of. Fails. He can't save Eri at first, can't save Shigaraki (even though he wants to) because Shigaraki is apparently beyond helping, etc etc. Like the largest successes for him as a hero are explicitly BECAUSE he has One for All now.
And that combined with the way the story ends, with the fact that Toga and Shigaraki are not possible to save, and the only thing about them that was worthy of saving was the innocent child they once were, just feels kind of at odds with what the opening of BNHA sets out to prove in the narrative. BNHA sets itself up to be about how anyone can be a true hero, that true heroism is from character and not power, but the only characters that are capable of being heroes are those with power, the only characters that are able to seek redemption are those whose powers allow that for them. A character like All for One is doomed from the outset, and the narrative makes no foil to him to show that there is a choice to be made there.
Idk it just seems kind of sad to me that a story that superficially claims to be about how anyone can be a hero narratively reinforces the very attitudes the first scenes portray as wrong. And it feels too late to change that. It feels too late for that when Mirio had to get his quirk back to be a hero again. It feels too late for that when Toga is dead. It feels too late for that when Deku was only able to defeat evils with a quirk. It feels too late for that when All for One selected everyone and maneuvered them into position and there was no inherent randomness. It feels too late for this story to course correct into "anyone can be a hero, heroism comes from internal ideals" when it's shown time and time again that the only people who get to be heroes are those with the quirks to do so.
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My aunt texts me semi regularly, but today she brought up an old (old old god I'm old) dragon drawing I'd done in high school that she still has for some inexplicable reason.
Jokingly I said 'wow, that's a blast I could probably do a wee bit better now' (of note I stopped drawing entirely shortly after high school and only picked it up again during COVID - most of my family doesn't know I'm back at it).
'You're drawing again? I'd love to see!'
Cue my tired ass brain catching up, because nothing I draw these days is uh...family friendly.
So I deflected, and now I have to remember how to draw dragons so I can send her an updated version.
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Outgrown
It's only one more year until I can sweep this country under the rug like the shards of a broken wine glass; something that was once sparkling and translucent and pristine, but is now nothing more than inconvenient pieces to clean.
It's not that it hasn't had its fair share of good times. It's been vivacious and loud like a houseparty and it's been soft and mellow like a candle-lit dinner. But it's never been home. It's never been a greeting all of my neighbours or knowing shortcuts around the area or walking the streets without needing directions type of home. It's always been being hyperaware of my foreign accent or slipping off mini-skirts and crop tops in restaurant bathrooms, just to avoid the stares. The judging. It's always been teetering on a fine line between never fully indian but not american enough. I’ve never been able to just be.
But there were moments where I felt fully at home, with people who made me feel like I belonged, completely. Rare, but they existed. Moments where I felt like there was no other place in the world I'd rather be- dim lights and bad rom coms and pepsi that made me sick to my stomach the next morning- but they were worth it. Nights full of trashing movies and braiding hair and face masks and bubbly, innocent laughter. People that lit up my eyes with jokes and filled my soul with pure comfort.
But unfortunately, now they're all tainted. After all, how is it possible to watch videos from the past fondly when the tv they're played on has a cracked screen?
As the years passed by, the layers chipped off of everyone like a coat of cheap nailpaint. The shiny gloss wore off and there they stood, in all of their flawed, imperfect glory. Those who were once my 'ride-or-die' became phone calls when time would allow it, or hasty text messages typed out between classes. But still, I loved them. There were still those sleepovers and late night video calls and shopping sprees- what did it matter that they turned to the bottle more than to me? There were still those rambunctious inside jokes and birthday parties- what did it matter that they spent more time on potential hookups than their friends? There was still the past- what did it matter that the present reality was bleary and disheartening? Their essence, our essence, was all still intact, right?
Alas, the past isn't enough to keep something alive forever. A matchbox from years ago won't suffice to start a fire now; there just aren't enough matches inside of it any longer.
As the days go by, it feels more like a countdown than truly living. I live yearning for the day when these people, these caricatures, are nothing more than a contact on my phone. A day when I can turn off that tv with the memories on loop, throw the entire thing out, and buy a brand new one to place in my new bedroom. A day where I don't need to romanticize my every action just to have the energy to go on. A day where existing will finally feel easy again.
This country has been a warm jacket for five long years, but it's done its share of keeping me warm. The hands have gotten too short and the fleece is stained with dirt and the zipper gets stuck every now and then- it's simply time for a change.
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I really doubt DC will make a member of a team book (even if the book becomes really popular) as the only Batgirl holder. It doesn't really benefit them so much, since they wouldn't really be using the Batgirl brand. The only way a character turns into the only Batgirl holder is if the character has a solo (or, at least, the Batgirl name in the title of the comic).
Fair! But simultaneously, I'm unsure if Steph's going to even land somewhere, and if she doesn't have a book after knight terrors, I don't see her keeping Batgirl. (I don't think her flounding as inevitable - she might get roped into whatever Tim/Babs/Jason (if Rosenberg wants her) are doing - but the odds seem pretty high, considering.) (Waiting on Batgirls 19 or more likely sept solicits to be sure on this though)
And look. I understand that Babs is probably going to stay Batgirl, but I prefer to pretend I don't see it. (I miss pre-52 Babs so much. My heart aches.)
More realistically, there's been a lot more of her operating as Oracle, so even if she and Cass are both operating as Batgirl, I don't think it'll maintain primacy in Barbara's story. Of course, I could absolutely be wrong, but when you have two characters who hold the same mantle, one full time and the other part time, I can see Cass eventually monopolizing it.
More than that, I don't know if BOP is going to be an ongoing. If it is, I think you're right in that Cass will likely share it (or go back to BB or Orphan) but if it isn't, I think there's a decent chance that she might be in a book with her on the title, especially after Batgirls and Spirit World and BOP, all which have her in a starring role. (I know the odds of a Cass solo are not great, and the odds that its good are also not great, but I am. crossing my fingers.)
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