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Trina and Marvin are so very tragic and I feel like people don’t understand them. Fundamentally, people don’t understand Trina, and that’s detrimental to them both, because Trina is so very similar to Marvin. She’s quick to anger, she’s loud, she’s mean, she’s sweet, she’s loving the people around her the best she can even when everything in her life is hurting her.
Marvin and Trina are perfect for each other, really. They compliment each other in a toxic way, yes, but it’s no different than Whizzer and Marvin. In another world they would have been able to work out, given time to work on themselves the way Whizzvin did between acts. Yet, of course, the problem is that Marvin cannot love Trina because he is not straight.
The tragedy of Marvin and Trina is not ‘Marvin doesn’t love Trina because he’s gay’ it’s ‘Marvin loves Trina but he’s gay’. It’s ‘Marvin wants to love Trina but he can’t’. It’s ‘Marvin and Trina match each other but they can’t ever work’.
I am a gay man. I dated a woman for a very long while, in my own opinion, though not quite ‘ten year marriage with a kid’ type long. My girlfriend was in many ways perfect— perhaps in every way she was perfect. I would have married her, I think… but I couldn’t. Because as much as I loved her, I didn’t love her, due to the fact that I am gay.
This is where Trina and Marvin sit, and it’s in this space where their respective characters can be seen and analysed very deeply. Marvin would have been happy and perfect with Trina (so long as he had some actual good therapy and got over some anger issues), so it’s not the fact that he’s realising he doesn’t love her, it’s the fact that he feels broken because he should, if not her, then who?
For Trina, well, she hates Marvin and Whizzer because this is the proof that she did nearly everything right. She’s smart, she knew Marvin was cheating for quite a long while before she found him in that den. Trina must have thought that she did something wrong, that somehow she wasn’t a good wife, but the truth was of course that she did everything right. And that still wasn’t enough.
Trina hates Whizzer, and Marvin, because she is the same as them in every way. She hates Whizzer because they are quite truly the same person, and Marvin loves him over her because Whizzer is the one thing she can and will never be— a man.
In conclusion, Marvin and Trina are tragic not because they don’t love each other but because they do and it wasn’t enough.
|| THEORY TIMEEE||
|| Ok first of all, ouch- (I hit my tooth on my cell phone by accident when this theory appeared in my mind ಥ╭╮ಥ) ||
|| What if this new character is not a new character, but rather Inko (Well, THE young Inko) ||
|| Maybe we'll finally have some context for Inko and her past (How she met Hisashi/All For One) and this is the first taste of it (I'm just going crazy and I'm hallucinating, ok? Leave me alone-) ||
Sokka: *can’t remember his mother’s face*
Katara: *can’t forget her mothers face*
“ 'Cause all of my enemies started out friends “ but it’s Marlene McKinnon, James Potter and Lily Evans(Potter) about Peter Pettigrew.
Guys is this trend still a thing? Guys? GUYS- COME BACK-
I’ve been watching MHA recently can u tell
Having a migraine during a tech rehearsal is legitimately the worst thing ever.
Backstage is busy and chaotic, then you go onstage and the lights are so blinding it feel like you're getting stabbed in the head with a dagger.
This is for all you awkward socializers out there. The ones who crave connection, want to interact, but are so damn confused by it, or so intimidated by it, you never reach out first.
Or, if you do, you feel like the other person's just humoring you. Just giving the polite answers until you leave them alone. You read each interaction with that bored/slightly annoyed tone. That "I don't wanna be rude, but gawd, just leave me alone already so I can talk with the people I want to talk to" tone.
You know the one.
And then you curse your awkwardness, you withdraw and stop interacting. And when no one else reaches out to you (maybe because they too feel that awkward intimidation, but that doesn't occur to you, they're so outgoing! they're so confident! they're so cool!) you convince yourself that maybe you just weren't meant to have friends. No one seems to notice you're quieter than usual. Maybe you should just stop trying.
Maybe they think you're the rude one. You never meant to be rude, you're just so damn bad at doing this friend thing. How much interaction is too much? Are you smothering or aloof? Where's the line? Are you coming off funny and engaging, or loud and annoying? OMG you don't want to be that person that others hate even thinking about!
And on and on your thoughts swirl, micro-analyzing everything, and making you feel like every single interaction you've ever had was one-sided, that everyone you've ever spoken to forgot you the moment the conversation ended. That you are so forgettable that no one would notice if you just . . . stopped. Just disappeared. No one would notice. No one would care.
I see you, fellow socially awkward friends.
There is so much bad in the world. So many horrible things on grand and smaller scales on people's lives. It's hard to keep things in perspective. Everyone has their own trials, their own hardships that others may know nothing about. I try to keep that in mind. But I sometimes fall into my own head, letting the negative thoughts drag me under for a while.
So here's a hug for everyone who has those moments. Those fears. Those frustrations and feelings of sadness and loneliness. You are (ironically) not alone. 💖💕
Op, you stabbed me
You stabbed me
How dare you
You Are What You Eat
CW: mentions of cannibalism, manipulation and despair toward a young child (Kokichi is three here)
It had been two hours. Kokichi stared at the bowl in front of him—a creamy white soup, with a handful of meatballs floating in it. It was probably cold by now. He poked a meatball with his spoon, his stomach lurching as it bobbed. He swallowed thickly, glancing across the kitchen at the grownup stirring a pot at the stove.
At the severed arm tossed on a cutting board on the counter beside him.
"I don' wan' it," he tried again.
"Aw, that's enough'a that, boy!" Teru-onii-chan turned from the soup to pointedly brandish his spoon at the boy. "There's no way you ain't hungry. You're still growin', ya know? And after I even ground it up nice 'n' fine so ya couldn't tell the difference. The others don't get half as much kindness outta me!"
"B-but—"
"Not like you can taste it, anyhow. You wouldn't know human from pork from beef," he huffed. "Such a waste of my Talents, I swear."
And yet Teru-onii-chan always did seem to go above and beyond for Kokichi's meals specifically. So much effort, so much seasoning, all for the most boring textures. The small boy always wondered why that was. This happened every time. He didn't want it. He never wanted it. It was bland and boring and always had meat. He whimpered, looking back down at his soup. He wondered who it was, floating around inside it. If it was a mommy or a daddy, or...
Maybe a little kid just like him.
The image of a person roasting over a fire wasn't nearly as funny in real life as cartoons always made it out to be.
"I swear, Kokichi, if ya don't eat somethin' soon, you're gonna get sick," Teru-onii-chan tutted. "I'll hafta get your sister—"
Kokichi's blood turned to ice.
"N-no!" he cried, frantic tears springing to his eyes. "Not Nee-nee! Not the tube!"
It went down his nose and felt cold and weird when Nee-nee fed the slurry into it. He swore he could feel it as he hiccuped out panicked little breaths. It felt like he was choking on it.
Teru-onii-chan's expression softened, and he set his spoon aside to approach Kokichi at the table and give him a little pat on the head.
"Ya need ta eat, sugar," he insisted. "You know your Nee-nee only does it 'cause she cares. She'd be awful sad ta know you ain't eatin' again. It'd fill her with so much Despair..."
That word again. Despair. Nee-nee and her friends talked about it a lot, ever since the bad things started and they brought him down here. Kokichi didn't really understand what it meant. They were always so mean to each other on purpose. It almost sounded like Teru-onii-chan wanted him to refuse just to make his Nee-nee sad.
He looked down at the soup again, sloppily wiping his nose on his sleeve. The meat stood out clearly in the white broth, bobbing there like the most normal thing in the world. Teru-onii-chan could give him any other meat, and it'd taste the same, feel the same, may as well be the same. It didn't matter if he couldn't taste it. It didn't matter if he couldn't tell. It made his stomach churn just knowing what it was.
But... Kokichi didn't want to make his Nee-nee sad...
"T-Teru-onii-chan...?"
"Hm?"
"Can... make it hot again...?"
"Sure thing, Pumpkin."
This time he'd do it. This time for sure.
For Nee-nee.
We all know this scene.
The one where the Sheriff and Argent corner the Nogitsune/Void Stiles in the loft.
There’s one thing I wanted to point out about this scene…
When Chris draws his gun on Stiles and the Sheriff pulls his gun on Chris, the Nogitsune uses emotional manipulation to try and get to the Sheriff, getting teary eyes as he says, “Dad… He’s going to shoot me. He’s going to kill me, dad.”
The next moment, he turns to Chris, completely in control of his emotions, face deadpan and voice steady as he says, “Pull the trigger.”
That’s not the Nogitsune.
That’s Stiles.
He knew the Nogitsune was using him to hurt everyone he cared about and he was ok with dying if it meant they’d be safe. And when Chris doesn’t listen, he gets desperate and shouts “SHOOT ME!”
But you hear it in his voice: the Nogitsune takes a hold again.
Stiles was fighting.
ART SUGGESTIONS!!
ok but what should I draw, someone, anyone HELP
(Put suggestions in either the asks, thx!)