#not-so-weekly-insight

[a-dauntless-daffodil]

For vaggie that spear is her support animal/therapist

For charlie, it's a rival she'd like to throw in lava but can't cause, it's vaggies support 'animal'

silly headcanon plot twist- Charlie's jealously at the spear ISN'T silly or irrational at all, it's a subconscious manifestation of Charlie's desperation for her girlfriend to actually open up emotionally to HER instead of to a WEAPON, confide fears and problems in CHARLIE, and a very frustrated, very also-emotionally-constipated-in-her-own-way Charlie doesn't wanna pin that frustration on Vaggie directly so she deflects all her anger to the spear, which as an inanimate objects, can't get any hurt feelings over this or decide Charlie is too much and dump her

we've done it. we've cracked the silly headcanon and found the angst waiting underneath XD XD XD

or maybe the above is all just what the hazbin crew speculates together, in their weekly "there's no way those two idiots don't have shit going on in their relationship" chaggie hotel gossip meet-ups

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[coulson-is-an-avenger]

i cannot stop thinking about Fedallah mobydick. the first description in the book calls him a phantom. he's the first major character to die. he's from a group of people that melville initially seems to admire and then spends the rest of the book being viciously racist about. Ahab trusts him enough to ask him to do seafaring crime for him and Fedallah likes him enough to agree to it. we never learn their history. he spends the whole story ostracized and under the suspicion of everyone around him and never does anything even remotely unkind. he tries to save his friend and fails. he can't save himself. he suffers the most gruesome death in the narrative. he is one of the only two people Ahab is willing to take any sort of council from. he's a skilled harpooner but doesn't get to bond with the other harpooners and we never see why. he's stuck on a doomed voyage thousands of miles from home surrounded by people who think he's the literal devil, and his only friend is hell bent on a suicide quest. he must be unbelievably lonely. he is despised by the narrative despite being objectively right about everything. he makes me so sad to think about in any capacity and i want to be his best friend

[rotisseries]

obsessed with the "it’s not gwen who's trans it's actually her peter!" crowd. first of all the flag is literally in HER room why is this a debate? second why are you picking the dead kid🤨

[felix-zarenium]

As many on this hellsite who have read Jekyll and Hyde have pointed out, i do not know what to expect from Tumblr’s interpretation of this text, though i guess that’s the new horror now that “rich man dresses poorly” is no longer scandalous.

Because the thing is, the fear that made J&H what it is is steeped in Victorian homophobia, elitism, eugenics, addiction, mental illness and so so much more. And even though the story is very good, I’m all too afraid of what hot take Tumblr shall make of it.

(Look up the Double Brain theory for shits and giggles and maybe insight)

[jettistired]

Been working on 2 stories/books lately and I'm loosing a bit of motivation and might even post them on here.

1.) A "trailer park drama" that has a lot of meaning. Kind of a "coming of age" story, but it's the dad realizing he just needs to do what's best for his kids. A partial reflection of what my dad whent through.

2.) A zombie apocalypse based story, also with meaning but a lot of heartbreak because I can. Currently drawing the characters.

I will probably share a bit of both in time but what should I post first/more frequently???

[neverendingford]

.

[happy74827]

A Smile From Hell

[Homelander x Female!Reader]

Synopsis: Despite the amount of unpredictability The Homelander has, he still catches you off guard with something as small as a smile.

WC: 3576

Category: Angst, Supe!Reader {TW — Homelander for obvi reasons}

In honor of Season 4’s weekly releases, this one is for the Antony Starr girlies (and you @summerrivera777777)

『••✎••』

John fucking terrified you.

He terrified everyone, really.

He had the power to level an entire city block with a glance. He was strong enough to crush a man's skull with one hand and fast enough to catch a bullet. He was an unstoppable force of nature. He was The Homelander, and he was a threat to anyone who stood in his way.

But, the thing was...

You knew everything about him. Everything.

And he absolutely despised that, but there was nothing he could do to change it. You had seen him at his most vulnerable and pathetic. You had seen his humanity, it’s amazing he still has any after the way Vought has abused him, and you had seen his inhumanity.

Jessica, or Sister Sage, had confronted you on several occasions, trying to get you to tell her your secrets. She wanted the upper hand on her arch nemesis, the only one in the world who was a threat to her. It was her mission to end the reign of the superhero she hated most, and she was willing to do anything for it.

You could see right through her, and you didn’t need magnificent amounts of intelligence to do so. You could see the fear in her eyes. You could see the doubt in her face, hear the strain in her voice, feel her uneasiness when she was near him.

John knew it, too. He just simply chose to ignore it. He had grown used to being the scariest man in the room. It’s been that way his whole life, and it seemed it was going to stay that way.

But, despite all that fear, she came to you for answers. Again.

And this time, the question was a simple one. It was so simple, yet completely understandably complicated.

How are you allowed to live?

That was a question that stumped you. It took you a long time to grasp the meaning of it, the specific answer she was looking for.

After a few clarifications, you finally understood what she meant.

She wanted to know why John allowed you to live. She wanted to know why he hadn’t killed you. She wanted to understand why you were the only person alive after calling him by his name.

Not his stage name, his real name.

For being the most intelligent person on the planet, you’d think that she’d be able to understand it. I mean, the answer was right there, in front of her face. She didn't need to be a genius to figure it out; all she needed was a little more insight.

A little bit of understanding.

"Respect," you said, your voice soft. Your words were clear, though, and she heard them perfectly.

The confusion on her face was evident, as was her disbelief.

"What?"

"It's respect. Anyone I respect is someone that deserves my respect."

She snorted.

"Right," she said. "Like he could actually respect anything other than himself."

"He's capable of it if that's what you're thinking," you told her. "And this isn’t about him respecting me; it's about me respecting him."

She narrowed her eyes at you, her suspicion rising.

"Why would you respect him?" she questioned. "You're not blind; you know exactly who he is."

Yes, you did. You knew more than most, and compared to The Seven now, you probably knew the most. His actions? Completely unredeemable. He was, in fact, a monster; there was no arguing that. He was a horrible, twisted, monstrous individual; no one would deny it.

His actions weren’t excusable, but he had an explanation. A reason for why he was the way he was.

He wasn’t born a monster; he was turned into one. That… that was the respect part. You respected him because you respected his story. You respected his pain. You respected his anger.

You respected his past; anything after that was on him.

"I don’t like using stage names to those I respect enough, so I call him John. He allows it because he knows I don’t mean it the way others would if they used his name; it doesn't hold the same power with me."

She rolled her eyes at you.

"Same goes for you, Jessica; I have no desire to call you Sister Sage."

Her flinch was barely visible, but you still caught it. Again, what is intelligence if not knowing the chances of a particular outcome?

"I’ve noticed you don’t call Deep or that fire chick by their real names."

You just smiled, leaving her to solve that answer for herself, and it didn’t take long at all. You knew the exact moment she came up with a conclusion. She was quite predictable, in that regard. Maybe you should’ve been the big-brained hero instead.

And now, you really should’ve been because when you turned down the hall, catching wind of the elevator doors opening, you knew he had listened to it all.

But you didn’t say anything, and you really didn’t say anything after a simple glance at him.

He was completely drenched in blood, a look that would terrify even the toughest of men. But not you, oh no, you were very used to that. He’s done a lot worse.

Besides, you were too distracted by the fact that the blood wasn't his. Too distracted by noticing how this time was different. He was smiling, but it wasn’t his usual cruel smile. This time, it was genuinely happy.

Relief, almost.

It reminded you of the night you two bonded. No, not that type of bond. The bond that told you both that you weren’t alone.

He had a friend, but he wasn’t really your friend. You don’t believe you could ever consider him one. Not really, not with the things he has done.

But, still, you were the closest thing he had to a friend. You were the closest he had to an equal, a person he could relate to. Jessica carried the same intelligence (obviously a lot more), but the similarities between the two of them stopped there.

You had a similar history but different outcomes.

And that reveal between the two of you happened that night. This was way back, even before Starlight joined. Back when The Seven was in its prime.

Stillwell threw a party, something she always loved to do before Teddy became her focus. It was the usual: people in fancy dresses and suits, lots of champagne and liquor.

The difference, however, was the main focal point. Usually, given Vought’s status, all of The Seven members were the main event. Everyone was mandated to wear their hero outfits. It was a great way to advertise and get people to buy more of the products.

The theme this time, however, wasn’t about the group. It wasn’t about any of you. For the first time in a long while, John wasn’t in the spotlight.

Due to this, Stillwell banned everyone from wearing their costumes. No capes, no spandex, no leather, no masks. Just suits and dresses.

It was nice, actually. A little break from the norm. It felt good to go a night without the tight leather on your skin. You were actually surprised at how well it was received.

The rest of the members of the group seemed to be having a wonderful time as well.

Except for one.

He was standing in the corner, glaring at everyone. Madelyn had an entire argument with him about the suit. You weren’t there, but you knew exactly how it went.

His costume was a part of him. It was a symbol. It was a mask. A representation. An embodiment of who he was. Without it, he was a naked target.

Madelyn clearly did not give a single shit. In the end, the argument resulted in the two of them getting into a screaming match, causing him to storm off in a fit of rage.

So, there he was, standing alone, seething at anyone who passed him. Madelyn won; of course, she did, and she didn't even bother trying to apologize. She wasn't sorry.

She was just mad that he refused to listen in the first place.

But, hey, that wasn’t your problem. You were enjoying yourself. The night was going pretty well; the alcohol was flowing nicely, and the music was just right. You were dancing and laughing and having a great time.

But, of course, things weren't always easy for you.

You weren’t expecting it to last long; you weren’t one to have good luck. You knew, deep down, that the night was going to come crashing down on you. You were just waiting for the ball to drop.

The ball dropped the moment you decided to go cheer up the sourpuss.

It was obvious the way his shoulders tensed, and his head tilted ever so slightly. He knew you were approaching. He was aware.

"Don't," he said.

He was clearly angry, and you weren’t smart enough not to push. This is where Jessica’s powers would have benefited you greatly.

You ignored his warning, walking up beside him, mocking his stance.

"You okay?" you asked, your tone soft and light, a hint of playfulness.

His eyes flicked over to you, and the glare he gave was terrifying. His eyes were so intense, and his teeth were clenched. You could see his jaw tensing.

He was a volcano, ready to erupt.

You could practically see the steam coming out of his ears.

"I'm fine." Humorously enough, it sounded like the opposite.

"Really?"

He turned his head to look at you, his anger increasing by the second.

"Don’t you have anything better to do?"

You shrugged. "Yeah, but I'm choosing to talk to you."

He looked away from you, grumbling, "And why's that?"

"Because you’re ruining the party," you answered. "Miserable face and all."

He rolled his eyes. He actually does this a lot, believe it or not. It's the only expression he has besides anger that isn’t fake.

"And why do you care?"

You shrugged again. "I care about enjoying myself, and I can't do that when you're moping."

He turned his head towards you. He was not amused.

"Go find someone else to entertain yourself with.” He pointed behind him. "I’m sure Deep will be glad to show off his fish facts."

That one caused you to make the same face he had moments ago. The absolute look of disgust on your face was enough to bring a smug grin to his own.

He knew exactly what he was doing.

"Don't make me throw up, John."

The name.

It was a simple slip-up, nothing more. But, of course, it meant so much more. This was before everything, so it doesn’t seem likely that a slip-up like that wouldn’t result in consequences, but it secretly was a turning point.

He could've killed you.

He could've easily grabbed you and thrown you across the room, and no one would be able to comprehend what had happened until after you were unrecognizable.

He didn't, though.

No, instead, he stared at you, his face blank, and his mind processing. You were nervous, of course. You had no idea what was going on in his head.

After a minute, a look of realization came upon him, and you could see the exact moment the gears started turning.

Then, a simple hum fell from his lips. One said he wasn’t expecting it but was deciding whether to accept it.

Then, after a few seconds, his face relaxed. His jaw was unclenched, his eyes softened, and his eyebrows relaxed.

"Let’s have a chat."

Uh oh. That’s a code red—a sign of danger.

You were so done.

And yet, for some odd reason, you followed him. You don’t know why. It was a stupid move, in your opinion. You should've run while you had the chance. You should’ve listened and just punched fishlips or something.

You didn’t, though.

You followed him, allowed him to fly you somewhere private, and just waited. You waited for your imminent doom. You were going to die; you were sure of it.

But, for some reason, your death never came.

Instead, the two of you landed on the tower’s roof, the cold New York air hitting you hard. He had set you down on your feet and went all the way to the railing.

You stood awkwardly, waiting for him to turn around with those beams in his eyes, but they never came.

He was just looking out into the city, his back turned to you, his hands on the railing.

After a few minutes of silence, he turned his head, looking at you through the corner of his eye.

"Aren't you going to ask?"

Ask what? What was there to ask?

There were plenty of things to ask, actually, and yet you had no idea what the right thing to ask was. Because, again, even here, he was unpredictable and unreadable.

You didn't want to anger him; you knew that for sure. But you were also tired of his mind games. It was a constant battle of wit, and you were sick and tired of being left in the dust.

So, you chose something simple to say. Something easy, yet not so simple to answer.

"Are you going to kill me?"

You wouldn’t be surprised if he turned around with a smile and answered yes.

He didn’t, though. Oh no, he stayed turned, staring into the city, his eyes searching. Searching for what you didn't know.

"No."

Simple and clear.

You didn't respond, and he didn't elaborate. It was silent, and it was cold, and it was a tense moment.

But you didn't leave. You just watched him, watched his movements. The way his shoulders hunched over, his head tilting down, the grips on the railing, the way his hair slowly became unstuck due to the wind.

You always thought his hair looked better when it wasn't slicked back, but this is the first time you've ever seen it that way. It was… it was nice.

Then, his shoulders relaxed, and his head straightened. He didn’t turn around, and he didn’t speak. He just looked over his shoulder at you, his eyes piercing yours.

Even with a few strands of hair on his face, his eyes were so sharp and clear. So blue. So cold.

It felt like they were reaching deep into your soul.

It was terrifying. He was terrifying.

"Do you remember your parents?"

The question took you by surprise. It wasn’t what you were expecting, but then again, this whole encounter was the definition of unexpected.

"Yes. Why?"

His eyes scanned yours as if looking for a lie. Then, he turned back around, leaning on the railing.

"I can't remember mine," he said. "Sometimes I wonder if I even had them."

Oh. Oh. This was huge. This was a big one. You had to search deeply even to find out his actual name. Now, here he was, telling you of his past.

Of all people, he chose to tell you.

You didn’t know how to feel about that.

You were honored, yes. You were excited, definitely. But, most importantly, you were worried. Is this him letting you in? Or is it him preparing you for your demise?

It was an unknown territory, a field of landmines. You knew a lot about his past already, but now he was aware of the fact that you knew. He knows, and yet he is still giving you the information.

Why?

"I mean, it doesn't make sense. Everyone has parents, right? And I couldn't have been born out of nowhere. So, I must have had parents. A mom, a dad, some form of guardians."

His face was scrunched, and his eyebrows were furrowed. You could see the way his brain was working. He was really thinking about it, wondering how the pieces fit together.

He was struggling to make a connection, and he was mad at himself for not having it.

"I'm assuming your childhood wasn't the best," you said. You knew it was a risky move, joking about his past, but so far, he seemed to like the boldness and humor.

And he did, in fact, let out a snort.

"Understatement of the year."

You smiled but quickly stopped. It was a serious conversation, and smiling probably wasn’t the appropriate reaction.

Silence filled the space again, and he was back to thinking. He was trying; he was really trying. But he just couldn't.

It wasn't the fact that his parents were a mystery; he's come to terms with that. It was the fact that he couldn’t remember anything.

All he remembered was the torture, the pain, the experiments… nothing about how he got there. Nothing about the people before the scientists. Nothing about a home. And the fact that they were currently building a fake one for him made him so angry.

It was a mockery—a complete joke.

He felt all of these emotions and yet couldn't express them.

And he was frustrated. He was pissed off and tired and angry and sad and empty and-

"Did you rip off your tie?" Your eyes had caught sight of his bare neck, the black fabric missing.

It was the only way to pull him out of his head, and, to your surprise, it worked. You could see the moment he snapped back to reality, the moment he was pulled away from his mind.

"Yeah," he answered. "It was suffocating me."

You could tell.

His hair became more unkempt due to the wind. The strands of hair on his forehead were getting in the way, and it was getting annoying. Not for you, no, but for him.

For you, it was… humanizing. It made him seem a little less like a god.

He lifted his hand, his fingers gently combing through the locks. It was a struggle, a normal struggle that you've had with your own hair.

Plenty struggle with deviating the locks away from their desired location. You've had your own fair share of moments.

But this was the first time you'd seen him experience it. The first time witnessing him do something so simple and basic.

Such a human thing. It had you wondering what else he was capable of.

He sighed, his hand dropping back to the railing. Again, it is a normal thing to happen. But, it had you smiling, the corners of your mouth curving ever so slightly.

The action did not go unnoticed.

"What?" he asked, not even bothering to turn around.

You shrugged. "I've just never…"

Your mind kept changing images. His hair, his eyes, his shoulders, his jaw, his nose, his ears, his neck, his hand, his lips, his chin, his cheekbones, his eyebrows, his skin…

Everything is listed in your mind, including the little imperfections and details that make him, well, him. This was the first time you saw him anything other than perfect.

The perfect monster he was, the god of all men. The man of the century, the one to take the world by storm. The strongest, the smartest, the best.

The symbol, the image, the mask.

The facade.

This was the first time you saw him as just a person. A human being. Just a regular guy.

"Sometimes I wonder how different life would be if you were…"

Normal.

The word was at the tip of your tongue. You could've said it; you should've said it. It was the truth. It was obvious.

But you couldn't.

He knew where your sentence was going, though. Of course, he did.

"If I was… what?" He still wanted to hear it. He was looking for validation, and he wanted it from you. His eyes were on you, his body turned, but there was this one odd thing.

A smile.

It wasn't his usual one. The one you were used to. The one that made everyone scared and uneasy. No, this was a real smile.

A soft, small one, but still a real smile.

A true smile. As if he knew the words you were going to say, as if he knew your thoughts, and he found them amusing.

You found him amusing.

And just because of that, you didn’t give him the validation.

"It’s fucking freezing out here," You coughed in hopes of successfully changing the subject. "I’m gonna get a jacket."

He was going to argue, but you were already walking off, telling him you’d take the emergency ladder down.

Nothing was spoken about that night. No words were exchanged.

But something had changed. Something had shifted. You weren’t quite sure what it was, but it was something.

So, seeing that genuine smile again in that elevator was a shock.

He had the same face as he did on that roof. It was that smile. That one specific smile.

Capable.

That's what it was.

He was capable.

He was capable of feeling and being human. He was capable of being something other than a monster.

He was capable.

All he said to you when you walked by was a simple goodnight. Something so small, yet so big. This time, those words seemed to have a little more meaning.

So, just to raise his unsettling mood, you winked and said, "Goodnight, John."

Again, a smile.

The smile.

It was hard to continue walking, and it was even harder not to turn around. But you did.

You did it knowing you were going to have a hard time sleeping. Knowing that, no matter what, you weren’t going to forget that smile.

The demon that still had a little bit of humanity in him.

A demon that was capable.

[csuitebitches]

Things I Have to do for My Sanity

1. Wake up at the first alarm - no snoozing and no going lying around in bed. Getting up straight away and head to the bathroom. It’s going to suck initially but you’ll get used to it in a few days.

2. Mental self care: 30 minute meditation, brain games mental math, reading, news. Knowledge is sexy and don’t deny yourself sexiness.

3. Daily review in my diary at the beginning and end of my day: what went well, what didn’t, what I need to accomplish to achieve my goals. This has tremendously helped my goals and keeping my motivation more consistent, especially at work. Analysing and correcting incremental changes creates long term success.

4. Cleaning up before bed - clothes, shoes, organising my bag, etc. I set a timer for 5 minutes and try to get as much done as possible.

5. Pick out my clothes the night before and steam iron them for the next day.

6. Face masks twice a week, a hair mask once a week, I scrub the soles of my feet with that foot scrubbing thingy once a week. Manicures every month because my nail beds are too sensitive to do it biweekly, iron supplements so that I’m not a moody bitch. Matching underwear to feel good about myself. Lavender spray on my pillow before sleeping so that I don’t get weird dreams.

7. Reading biographies and autobiographies. My mentor had suggested this to me and it’s amazing how literally I don’t have a single original experience - everything I’ve felt or mistakes I’ve made have already been done by someone else.

I’m going to curate a list of business books that I feel that have helped me the most recently.

8. I write a short essay everyday in the language I’m currently learning. I also end my day by talking about my day for at least 2 minutes in that language and I record it in voice memos to keep a track of my progress. I want to be fluent to a level where I can think in this language.

✨

I don’t generally share a lot about my personal life - none of you know my name or where I’m based and I feel comfortable doing that. But I do want to start giving out more insights to what I’m doing personally in my career - the good, the bad, the ugly.

Being self aware and honest to myself has helped me improve a lot. I know that shame is my Achilles heel, so now I’m reading books to combat that. I’ve caved in and decided to try therapy for a bit to see if what I’m doing is useful or not. My first session is tomorrow. Staying disciplined was my initial hurdle but the systems I’ve set (waking up early + habit stacking) have helped me slowly overcome that.

Work side, I’ve started establishing myself publicly more. I don’t want to reveal too much about what I do exactly but the good news is that our biggest competitor has noticed my progress (a former employee of that company came to us for an interview and directly asked our top management about me). It’s been 4 months that I’ve been working here but I know that next year I really have to swing the bat and hit a home run. I’ve decided to work on the field more and less in the office to really understand people’s needs and create unique solutions.

The daily/weekly/quarterly diary is definitely credited to my recent wins. That’s the biggest change I’ve made in my routine and i can already see that it’s working well. I’m going to continue refining and implementing that method.

Recent work methods I’ve decided to start working on (I’m not required to do these but I do it for my growth):

1. I’ve started studying popular companies’ business and revenue models in detail. Everything is adoptable and adaptable, you just have to figure out how to tweak something for your company’s clients and needs. Now I’ve decided that I want to keep a track of our competitors, their business models, their owners names, pricing strategy, their target audience etc etc on an excel sheet so that I’m aware with what’s happening in the market. 

2. I’ve started making client profiles. Every time I meet a client, I note down their name, the company name, what they were like, anything specific they seemed to like or want, how much they had paid us for a service, what their paying capacity could be, etc. 

[mostlysignssomeportents]

Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris’s “Youth Group”

NEXT SATURDAY (July 20), I'm appearing in CHICAGO at Exile in Bookville.

Youth Group is Bowen McCurdy and Jordan Morris's new and delightful graphic novel from Firstsecond. It's a charming tale of 1990s ennui, cringe Sunday School – and demon hunting.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250789235/youthgroup

Kay is a bitter, cynical teenager who's doing her best to help her mother cope with an ugly divorce that has seen her dad check out on his former family. Mom is going back to church, and she talks Kay into coming along with her to attend the church youth group.

This is set in the 1990s, and the word "cringe" hasn't yet entered our lexicon as an adjective, but boy is the youth group cringe. The pastor is a guitar-strumming bearded dad who demonstrates how down he is with the kids by singing top 40 songs rewritten with evangelical lyrics (think Weird Al meets the 700 Club). Kay gamely struggles through a session and even makes a friend or two, and agrees to keep attending in deference to her mother's pleas.

But this is no ordinary youth group. Kay's ultra-boring suburban hometown is actually infested with demons who routinely possess the townspeople, and that baseline of demonic activity has suddenly gone critical, with a new wave of possessions. Suddenly, the possessed are everywhere – even Kay's shitty dad ends up with a demon inside of him.

That's when Kay discovers that the youth group and its corny pastor are also demon hunters par excellence. Their rec-rooms sport secret cubbies filled with holy weapons, and the words of exorcism come as readily to them as any embarrassing rewritten devotional pop song. Kay's discovery of this secret world convinces her that youth group isn't so bad after all, and soon she is initiated into its mysteries, including the existence of rival demon-hunting kids from the local synagogue, Catholic church, and Wiccan coven.

As the nature of the new demonic incursion becomes clearer, it falls on Kay and her pals to overcome these sectarian divisions over the protests of their guitar-strumming, magic-wielding leader. That takes on a special urgency when Kay learns why the demons are interested in her, personally, and a handful of other kids in town who all share a secret trait.

I confess that as someone who lived through the 1990s as a young man, there is something disorienting about experiencing the decade of my young adulthood through the kind of retro lens I associate with the 1950s or 1960s. But while the experience is disorienting, it's not unpleasant. McCurdy's artwork and Morris's snappy dialog conjure up that bygone decade in a way that is simultaneously affectionate and critical, exposing the hollowness of its performative ennui and the brave face that performance represented even as the world was being swept up in corporate gigantism.

McCurdy and Morris are really onto something here, implicitly asking us why the 1990s gave us Buffy and Sabrina (and The Coven, etc etc) – what was it about that decade in which Reaganomics and globalism consolidated the gains of the 1980s, where the climate emergency took on its undeniable urgency, where media monopolies mastered the art of commodifying counterculture faster than it could mutate into new forms?

Morris's writing really shines here. If you enjoyed Bubble, his earlier outing based on the post-apocalyptic comedy podcast of the same name, you will love this one:

https://pluralistic.net/2021/08/21/podcasting-as-a-visual-medium/#huntr

Morris is also half of Jordan, Jesse Go!, the long-running podcast where he and Jesse Thorn do a weekly ha-ha-only-serious goofball schtick that never fails to smuggle in really clever and insightful ideas amidst the poop jokes.

https://maximumfun.org/podcasts/jordan-jesse-go/

John Hodgman calls nostalgia a "toxic impulse." Church Group deftly avoids nostalgia's trap, managing to be a period piece without falling prey to the Happy Days pathology of ignoring the many flaws and problems of its era. And of course, it's a hoot and a blast.

Support me this summer on the Clarion Write-A-Thon and help raise money for the Clarion Science Fiction and Fantasy Writers' Workshop!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2024/06/16/blight/#the-dream-of-the-nineties

[cocoakrispis-blog]

THE INTRODUCTION OF (Y/N)’S PERFCT LIFE

pairing ~ ellie williams x fem! reader

summary ~ we get a little bit more insight on the life that (y/n) considers perfectly perfect.

warnings ~ not much its just background and introduction, weirdo boyfriend, homophobia

wc ~ 2.4k words

SERIES MASTERLIST

getting good grades and impressing your teachers by beating the stereotype of cheerleaders being dumb, showing your boyfriend just enough attention to keep him out of your hair but not cross any of your boundaries, and going to church to affirm your faith in the lord were almost all of the things that kept you waking up in the morning with a smile on your face.

you loved all of those part of my life with my whole heart but the thing that truly made you feel one hundred percent you was cheer.

your team was your true home.

the sisterhood required to be such a successful cheer team was intense but also very rewarding. you were extremely close to all of your teammates and always made the effort to personally get to know all of them.

you guys were required to trust our fellow teammates to toss us into the air, hold us there, and then catch us so that we could perform gravity defying tricks.

it took a lot of strength to be able to do that and you know firsthand how strong each and every girl on your team was. i mean from the muscle definition on all of them it would be difficult to deny the physicality they all had.

the pure freedom you felt as you were soaring through the air was for lack of better words, euphoric.

it took a different type of trust to allow yourself to be catapulted in the air like that, but it felt so good to be supported by girls you knew you could rely on wholeheartedly.

along with trusting your teammates you all also had to trust your own bodies which required you to take care of what our coach always called ‘our temples’.

eating properly and staying in shape was a big part your, but you couldn’t be mad about it. being healthy allowed us to do mesmerizing flips and splits or contort our beautiful bodies into gorgeous silhouettes.

maybe the best thing about cheer is that the benefits of it didn’t only exist on the fields where your team would perform but also off the field. when you are a cheerleader you would always have someone to talk to or spend your time with.

the cheerleaders all had their own lunch table where they were given the privilege to spend quality time together. it might have been your second favorite part of the day, to be surrounded by so many beautiful and talented girls just filled me to the brim with a special feeling you only got around them.

in the halls there was always a pretty girl to compliment your outfit or gush over your new trendy makeup. no one was better at noticing the smallest differences than your teammates.

or in class where you knew you would have someone to sit next to and share notes with.

even school parties when you were a member of the team, no matter how lame they were would be fun because you always had someone to dance the night away with when your boyfriend didn’t want to.

the weekly slumber parties were the best way to end your week because it just felt like pure girlhood. sleeping next to the girls you trusted the most in the whole wide world always gave you the best sleep of your life.

so yeah being a cheerleader was great.

but of course there was more to the perfect life you were blessed with.

you were lucky enough to have a boyfriend who was a football player. super popular super handsome and super well… boyfriend!

you two were just the picture perfect relationship.

holding hands in the hallway as he talked about his latest football game that of course you attended since you were a cheerleader. walking to the field with his letterman draped around your shoulders while he continued to talk about football. oh and of course sitting in his car while you made out with him in between more talk of football.

you loved him very much and he loved you the same.

you were also very active in your church to which you held very near and dear to your heart. it was only right that you thanked and gave praise to the god that had given you such a perfect life.

the cross necklace you always wore being the best symbol of your devotion.

and to top it all off you had a wonderful relationship with my mother and my father.

because you were their only child allowed them to focus all of their time and attention on you. even though that meant they were a bit more hard on you you knew they loved and cared for you very much.

today was another one of the perfect days of your perfect life except this one was a little bit more special. your cheer team and the football team was heading to a far away football game. since both of you and your boyfriends coaches were such big supporters of your relationship they allowed your boyfriend to drive you there.

“aren’t you so excited about the first away game of the season i’m so pumped to watch you play and show off the new cheers me and my girls learned this week.” you smiled to yourself fondly as you remembered the hours of practice you and your teammates put into learning this new cheer.

“yeah babe of course” your boyfriend muttered under his breath.

you frowned at your boyfriends clear disinterest at your words and decided to keep quiet in case you were bothering him.

after a couple moments of silence you looked up to see that the yellow school bus you had been following closely behind was now no where to be seen and you were now in a very familiar area.

“hey baby i can’t see the bus anymore are we supposed to be going this way.” you begin to twiddle with your red and white pom poms as a wave of confusion and anxiety washed over you.

the frown previously on your face came back in full force whenever your boyfriend ignored you and silently tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

soon after your boyfriend pulled into the driveway of your home and parked his car.

“let’s go.” your boyfriend speaks to you for the second time today.

his tone of voice give you no opportunity to argue and you nod before walking behind him to your front door with your pom poms being held tightly in your hands.

before you made it to the door you quickly glance behind yourself and see an unfamiliar van with the words ‘true direction’ on it.

as you open your mouth to ask your boyfriend about it you hear the door open and he stares at you as if expecting you to walk in first.

you gulp at the look he gives you and cautiously walk in the door to your on home.

once you fully enter inside your eyes easily land on the large group gathered in your small living room with concerned looks on their faces. your brows furrow in confusion at the oddly thick atmosphere surrounding the room and you allow your eyes to sweep around the rom to properly take in the guests.

some of your parents, closest teammates, and even a couple of your boyfriends friends were there. the most odd character out of all of them was a man you had never seen before in a blue sweatshirt and matching shorts with a shirt that said ‘straight is great’.

“is there something wrong?” you immediately blurt out into the room.

no one responds to you and the room stays dead silent.

“hi sweeties why don’t you have a seat.” your mother was the first to break the silence, almost making you flinch.

almost as soon as your mom said that the unfamiliar man began to speak. “hello (y/n) my name is mike all of the most important people in your life have gathered here today to have a conversation with you and i am here to help assist them with it.”

you give the guy a slightly weird look but nod before having a seat on the couch that was facing all of them. once you settled in mike spoke up again to jump start the conversation.

“would you link to start us off peter?” mike signaled to your dad who had been completely silent up until now.

your father cleared his throat before straightening his collar and beginning.

“(y/n) dear everyone that is here in this room loves you very very much however more recents we have been concerned about some of your specific behaviors and we are tarting to become worried you are being influenced by a certain lifestyle and we are starting to worry there is a chance that you may be…” your dad slightly trails off at the end but your mom quickly finishes his sentence.

“we think you’re turning into a lesbian!” your mom exclaims but makes sure to whisper the word lesbian as quietly as possible.

your jaw drops at the accusation and you very quickly force your brain to formulate a response.

“me a l-lesbian?” is the only think you manage to think of in retaliation.

“to start you’ve been forcing us to eat this weird vegan food.” your dad holds up a plastic bag with some of the half eaten tofu you had for dinner the night before.

“i-i’ve just been trying to eat healthier for cheer and-

your argument was cut of by your mom forcing one of your pillows into your face while pointing at one of the parts of the flower design the pillow had with a disappointed look on her face. “you have vaginal decor all over your room.”

“you’re looking too hard at it it’s just a f-flower-” you shake your head vigorously while avoiding the burning feeling behind your eyes.

“instead of pictures of guys in your locker you just have pictures of female models your locker.” one of your friends from cheer holds up one of the posters of a girl in a bikini taken from our locker.

“i like looking at them so i can see what i can do to make myself prettier-” you feel your eyes start to water.

“you don’t even like to kiss me let alone go further than that with me!” your boyfriend speaks up while his friends beside him nod in agreement.

at your boyfriends words you quickly turn away from the group to hide the tears now trickling down your cheeks .

after everyone had said their peace mike once again us something to further the conversation.

“you know (y/n) i used t consider myself gay too when i was younger but now im an ex-gay and it was all thanks to an amazing place called true direction.” mike looks at you to say something but continues when he sees you still looking away from the group in shame silently. “true direction is a camp a little ways from here that helps teenagers like you figure out how to overcome the homosexual influence in their life and find the real straight them!” mike finished his little speech with a cheerful speech.

your eyes widen when you actually process what he had said and instantly snap your head back to the group to give them a betrayed look.

“you’re sending me away?”

everyone in the room slightly shitss uncomfortably at your question but gives you a sympathetic smile.

“no of course we’re not sending you away sweetie it’s not at all permanent.” your dad attempts to reassure you.

“yes exactly once you graduate the camp and they fix you we’ll come and get you so you can come right back home safe and sound!” your mom tries her best to sound slightly enthusiastic.

you shake your head in defeat and drop your face into your palms to muffle your sobs.

“i don’t want to go please don’t make me i’ll be normal just don’t make me go there!”

after your family manages to get you to calm down they get you to pack your things and soon after you your mom and dad pile into the car to begin your journey to the true directions camp grounds.

as you drive of you don’t even bother to look back at your teammates and boyfriend due to the fact that the current betrayal you felt from them ran extremely deep.

the ride was pretty unenventful and soon you arrive at your destination.

once the car came to a complete stop your parents very eagerly jumped out of the car leaving you to finally have a small moment to yourself.

“why me?” you grip the cross necklace hanging from your neck tightly.

“come on (y/n)” your parents call from outside the car.

you give the pendant one more squeeze before reluctantly grading yourself out of the car.

when you leave the car you follow your parents as they walk up to a large pink house.

before you make it all the way up to the door a blonde woman in a pink suit and a taller man in a tank top and shorts exit the building and walk towards your family with a large smile on their faces.

“hello there you must be (y/n) and her family my name is mary!’ the woman looks at you with kind eyes.

“yes that would be us!’ your mom responds enthusiastically.

you stay silent and somewhat zone out as they begin talking about how the camp and visitation would work.

“we love you sweetie.” your mom pulls you into a tight hug.

“we promise we’re doing this from your own good.” your dad pats you on your back before they both walk off to reenter their car.

you watch as your parents make jock work of pulling out of the entrance of the camp and drive away with two short honks.

“come on (y/n) let’s get going now.” mary pats you on the shoulder to shake you out of your trance.

you nod silently and follow the woman through the doors to the place where you wold be spending the next couple months of your life getting fixed.

a/n: holy moly this was a lot. my original plan was to make this 5 chapters from all. steps but i feel like the beginning is united a bit detached rom that so i decided to make this it’s own chapter. so sorry if this is shit i a so tired i may go back into to edit it later on. this is not going to be word for word at orf and the movie but it will be very similar with slight changes. my masterlist got a lot more attention than is as expecting so i rushed to whip up something that you guys could read while i plan out the rest of this i really hope this lives up to your expectations!!

taglist: @st4r-b3rries @dollyvuu @lvlymicha @jellyfishrnice @machetegirl109 @smiths-fan--13 @elliewilliamssrealgf @ravyaryn @yuhgetintoonit @nelzooo @luvmily @dearestdolly444 @venuzasmuse

[raginglesbian2006]

Hiii I was wondering if maybe you could write a Alastor fluff? Where Alastor decides to do a duo broadcast with reader? But she’s just very clumsy and nervous and fumbling over her words and doesn’t really know what she’s doing!! Pleaseee😁😁🙏🏼

Hi! Omg this is my first request so I'm a teensy bit nervous but your idea is so good, it got my brain gears turning!!

Hope you enjoy this little piece!

Step by step,cher...

Alastor x reader

When you first arrived at hell, you had no idea why you were here. The last thing you remembered was accidentally falling down a flight of stairs. Did you really die like that? And what crime did you commit to be subjected to eternal damnation? Was borrowing company stationery regarded as an offense?

In your pursuit of a safe place to stay in hell, you stumbled upon the Hazbin Hotel. The literal princess of hell invited you in with the brightest smile, one you never thought you'd see on a demon, let alone the daughter of the devil himself.

Needless to say, although your initial motive to stay at the hotel was for your safety, you gradually became roped into their redemption activities or rather...attempts.

You got along with everyone well at the quaint hotel. Charlie and Vaggie took such good care of you, making sure you were well-fed and comfortable at their establishment. Husk was a good listener. You weren't that heavy of a drinker so you just lounged at the bar counter talking about random things with him and listening to his thoughts and opinions in return. Sir Pentious was a sweetheart, entrusting you with his adorable eggies when he went out from time to time. Niffty put on roach shows for you, which you quite enjoyed. Although initially put off by Angel Dust's flirtations, you quickly became comfortable in his presence, often visiting his room to play with his little pig, which he called "Fat Nuggets."

There was one particular demon, however, who piqued your interest since day one. Alastor was an enigma to all the residents of the hotel and beyond, yet they trusted him to run as the host of this establishment and he did so spectacularly. He had this certain gentlemanly charm to him- never mind the fact that he was a serial killer and a cannibal, at least he was courteous.

You used to work at a radio station back when you were alive. You didn't host any shows, just worked behind the scenes to make sure everything went smoothly. So it is safe to say, you were very interested in Alastor's radio shows.

He overheard you talking about his work one day and popped out of nowhere behind you to ask you what you thought about his recent show. From then on, you and Alastor had a weekly routine of sitting down with a cup of tea and discussing his shows, planning what to air next, and improving on what was already aired. You quite enjoyed these little get-togethers with him.

It was on one of these meetings that Alastor had a brilliant idea in his head that he wanted to share with you.

"Why don't you join me in my broadcast tomorrow?"

Your eyes widened as you looked at his ever-grinning face. You were expecting him to laugh at your face any time now...but that never came.

"I-I'm sorry...what now?" you questioned.

"Ah!," Alastor explained, "It's a simple request from me, darling! You do so well detailing and planning my broadcasts and it's all thanks to you that my shows have gone swimmingly, much better than before! You have such useful insights! Why wouldn't you like to share your thoughts with all of hell?"

You gulped. Your hands left your teacup and started fiddling with the threads that came out of your sweater.

"I-I... I don't think I'd do a good job, Al," you paused, then continued, "I indeed worked at a radio station when I was alive but I have never hosted a show in my life."

Alastor hummed and with his claws tapping the table, he said, "Well darling, don't you think you could use this opportunity to try something new? You'd be learning only from the best of course!"

Sensing your hesitance, Alastor further elaborated, "Besides, all you need to do is answer my questions! Imagine you're talking to me, as we do during our meetings! You will be just fine!"

You didn't feel comfortable with the idea of hosting a broadcast, despite him being there but you did not want to reject his offer either, so you nodded and agreed to be there tomorrow morning. His grin grew impossibly wider and he exclaimed that he could not wait to see you "shine".

You'd wake up extra early the next morning, unable to keep your anxiety on the down low. You dressed up and rushed in the direction of the booth Alastor used for his radio shows. You kept on trying to calm yourself down, biting your nails and pacing in front of the door to the recording studio, hoping you'd not let Alastor down.

You were startled at the sound of radio static pouring in around you. You looked beside you to see the radio demon himself staring you down. Slightly embarrassed, you greeted him with a "good morning" which he reciprocated. He then opened the door to his recording booth, gesturing for you to enter in.

You were seated on one of the comfy chairs he owned as Alastor moved around the studio, checking the equipment and making sure all was right. When he was finally satisfied, he looked towards you, with that gleeful grin on his face and said, "Ready, my darling?"

You nodded your head, although you weren't sure how you were fooling yourself to believe you were ever gonna be ready.

Alastor's voice rang through his microphone as he started his broadcast. Hearing him work, in real time, made you want to listen to him forever. No wonder he raked in so many listeners despite the existence of modern technology. He had a rather charming voice.

You shook out of your trance when you made eye contact with the ever-smiling radio demon. You realized he'd asked you a question. The only problem is...you have no idea what he asked.

"U-um... sorry, Alastor. What did you say?"

Alastor chuckled and repeated, "Why my ditzy partner, I asked you what you expect the weather will be like today? It does seem unusually cloudy than yesterday, don't you think?"

"Ah, I see... well-" you were about to speak into the microphone he'd set out for you but you accidentally knocked it down, making the studio fill up with the screeching sound of the mic.

You got out of your seat, panicked, and dove to the ground to find the microphone. Your hands trembling as you searched for it, wondering what Alastor might think of you now.

You finally caught hold of the stray microphone, and rose up to view. Your face was completely and utterly red, and your eyes were tearing up. Alastor would surely be mad at you ruining his broadcast. Who knows, you might've cost him half his listeners.

All those berating thoughts in your head came to a stop when you heard Alastor laughing. Very loudly, might I add.

Confused, you looked up to see the radio demon, slumping on his chair, his chest heaving with uncontrollable laughter. Was he....laughing at you? You suddenly felt quite small in his presence. Your fingers twisted between the lapels of your shirt as your anxiety peaked at an all-time high.

When Alastor finally stopped laughing, he looked at you with his usual grin and exclaimed," Oh dear! I knew something like this would occur so I never started my broadcast in the first place!"

You froze in your seat. What? You looked up at the "on air" sign, only now noticing that it wasn't lit up at all.

Seeing your confusion, Alastor chuckled again. Your distress seemed quite amusing to him. You glared at the demon, your vision blurring with your tears. You did not know what to say to him.

Alastor moved out of his seat and stood next to you. With a clawed hand on your shoulder, he pushed it backward, making you sit up straight on your chair. Then, with a swipe of his hand, he conjured up a handkerchief and wiped your tear-stricken face, as gently as he could.

"My dear, if you were that anxious, you could have just told me you didn't want to do the show. I wouldn't have minded at all."

You finally found your voice and said, "Y-Yes but... I didn't want to disappoint you is all..."

Alastor tsked and patted your hair like you were a little puppy.

"Your need for outside validation seems to cloud your abilities a lot, dear," Alastor continues as he moves closer to you, "Your innate need to please each and everyone around you, makes you undermine your own worth. Look at me! If I cared about everyone's opinions of me, do you think I'd have been able to be this powerful and feared, hm?"

You shook your head in response.

"Take it one step at a time. You can only do so much at once. Remember it always. Step by step, cher."

You looked up at him and nodded. He was right. You just needed to calm down, take a deep breath, and take it one step at a time.

"Do you want to broadcast with me still or do you want to leave?" Alastor asked.

"No, I think I'm truly ready this time," you answered.

Alastor's grin widened and he plopped down on his seat, this time moving it a little closer to yours.

Before he turned on the broadcast, he looked at you and with surprisingly gentle eyes communicated, "Remember. Treat this broadcast like our daily conversations. You will be fine."

You acknowledged his advice and sat comfortably on the chair, ready to take this challenge on head first.

The neon-lit "on air" sign shone and Alastor's voice rang through, this time for real.

"Welcome to the radio demon's broadcast!"

Yes, the show did go "swimmingly" for you, as Alastor put it. He was quite pleased to see you wanting to do more broadcasts with him. He did truly enjoy your company. Perhaps a little more than he initially assumed. He wouldn't mind doing radio shows with you... forever.

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

Another show just wrapped up, but a new one takes its place next week. Takara and Mitsuya have really become the bright spots for me in this current run of shows; they make excellent bookends for the week in jql. Of the five shows airing now, four are streaming weekly on Gaga and the other is available via fansub.

Takara's Treasure

What a fantastic episode of a show that continues to get better and better. The way this story has slowly built our understanding of these characters, and their understanding of each other, is masterful and so rewarding. I really loved the direct conversation they had about Takara's post-graduation plans and what it means for them, as well as Taishin getting to the heart of things and reassuring Takara that his desire is welcome. I'm excited to get a peek at Taishin's family next week and see how they navigate whatever challenges they bring.

Cosmetic Playlover

Farewell to this very pretty show whose story did not make much of an impression on me in the end. It never found a coherent relationship arc or gave us any foundation for this romance to hang onto, and it didn't live up to the dark and sexy tone of its original promotion. But it gave us a lot of beautiful visuals!

I Hear the Sunspot

We've now spent an entire month on repetitive side plots designed to separate and cause insecurity for Kohei and Taichi, and I am over it. I understand that the show is faithfully adapting the manga, but this is the thing about adaptations: when you switch to a new medium you have to adapt the work to fit the new format. When you read a manga you can speed through side plots designed to stretch out the story, but you can't do that in a weekly airing drama. And yes, I have seen the arguments that this is primarily a coming of age story about finding yourself, but it's not doing that well, either. This job falling out of the sky for Taichi and his boss—who we are meant to read as someone with good intentions—encouraging him to drop out of school immediately to work full-time is a strange development. That it once again set off a spiral of Kohei and Taichi feeling insecure about their friendship and misunderstanding each other only makes it worse. I understand the intention: we are supposed to be getting that Taichi is embarrassed about this job because it's tied to his still ill-defined feelings for Kohei. But they haven’t unpacked his hang ups with admitting (or understanding?) that he likes Kohei back enough for that to land. We've spent so much time sitting with Taichi's broody confusion without gaining any deeper insight into its source or seeing him grow, which makes all of this just feel like stalling instead of important character work.

Mr. Mitsuya's Planned Feeding

gif by @my-rose-tinted-glasses

*sobs* Welp, the penultimate angst has definitely arrived. They distracted me with the possibility of dog death (Frito lives! THANK GOD) before sucker punching me with Mitsuya pre-emptively rejecting Ishida before their relationship could go further. And while I often roll my eyes at this kind of noble idiocy in the penultimate chapter of a romance, I think it's well-grounded in this story. Mitsuya has been worried about whether a relationship between them is right since he learned about Ishida's feelings, and on the heels of this blow about Frito's health and his sense that he burdened Ishida with this problem, he is feeling his age and his melancholy more than ever. He sees Ishida as a bright and beautiful young person that he would only drag down, and he does not yet understand that it was meeting him that brought this out in Ishida in the first place. The way he apologized and berated himself for asking Ishida to stay then hugged himself for that whole horrible conversation said it all. This also sets us up nicely for Ishida to finally make himself clear and do a classic jbl run next week (this show is ending too soon, I'm going to miss it so much). Thanks as always to @isaksbestpillow for providing her wonderful subs so we can all enjoy this beautiful drama. You can find the ep here.

Tagging @bengiyo to add this week's anime update.

[tcfactory]

Okay, random 1 am idea:

In the earliest of Airplane-bro's drafts, Luo Binghe's sidekick was a sneaky spy ice demon with teleportation powers. A real overworked backstabbing ladder-climber type. He was supposed to bide his time and then try to double-cross Binghe when the protagonist got his eyes on the ancestral power of the north, because Luo Binghe was a shitty boss to him and trying to take what should have been his birthright was the last straw. (Overworked, underappreciated backstabbing sidekicks may or may not have been a common trope at the time he started writing, but also incredibly relatable, even if his betrayal was doomed to failure by the narrative.)

But then the direction of the story started getting out of Airplane's hands (gotta please the readers after all) and he really wanted to have something for himself, so the original Ice Demon Sidekick TM got split into the current Author's Favorite Mobei-jun and sneaky spy waving deathflags OG!Shang Qinghua. Then, because by then OG!Shang Qinghua was long dead in the story, Airplane ended up simply reusing the original concept/personality for Linguang-jun (after some nerfs of course) and the ancestral power storyline got revamped for Mobei-jun's personal story.

As a direct side effect of this, Linguang-jun and OG!Shang Qinghua are extremely similar in personality and, because overworked author put more of himself into the overworked spy's character than he realized, he's also quite similar to Airplane-as-Shang-Qinghua.

From there it takes one accidental meeting for him to gain some insight into Linguang-jun's motivations (quite logical, if you ask Airplane, but that might just be the authorial bias speaking) and then a spur of the moment decision to go: you know what? None of this has any effect on Binghe and his general... everything, so why shouldn't he be allowed to fix the Mobei family drama before it can escalate to murder attempts? Having two crafty schemers instead of just one would only benefit his king, after all. (This has nothing to do with him having weekly meetings / venting sessions with Linguang-jun, nothing at all I say.)

But then it does end up mattering. Maybe Sha Hualing's demon invasion doesn't happen. Maybe the attack on the Immortal Alliance Conference is so well-organized that the Old Palace Master dies. Maybe Linguang-jun recognizes Binghe as Tianlang-jun's kid and the whole thing turns into a kidnapping instead. There are plenty of options, but in short: the story goes way off the rails, all because Shang Qinghua managed to make Mobei-jun and Linguang-jun set their conflict aside and work together as a team.

He doesn't exactly mind it, as such. He's much less overworked and his king is happy and it's all probably going to be fine. That's all he needs, really. The details can work themselves out over time.

[medstudentblues]

Happy saturday!

It’s our last weekend break (the last golden period). I worked out this morning which was gorgeous, then I went to a cafe to have breakfast, read a book, and journal. I also bought flowers for my kitchen because they looked and smelled so good this may be a weekly thing now.

An update recently.

ER was just a waste of time because there wasn't much responsibility put on us. They just thought, "Hey, let's make the kids go in," but our roles in the ER has been unclear so basically we did nothing other than saved (we did CPR and such) and monitored some of the patients.

Now we are in Psychiatry, where we take care of our mental health. Our duty is only from 8am-4pm, everyone's nice -- the residents and nurses, and we see some interesting cases (Schizophrenic patients, bipolar people in their manic phase, and so on). I'm actually a little sad that the rotation is ending next week and we'll start our Surgery rotation because in Psychiatry, there's life-work balance. People are good at listening. People know that mental health is important, and Doctors can sometimes feel things too and go through some difficulty in life. It's still not challenging for me like IM (internal medicine), but my rotation in Psychiatry has made me insightful without realizing it. The past few months had been a roller coaster because we were in IM. Our adrenaline was always on peak, but we were also mostly tired and we took the toxicness as a challenge and therefore, we enjoyed the past rotation. It is only in Psychiatry that we are finally slowing down. We are finally able to process our emotions, our mental and emotional state, where we stand, etc. Even if we didn't have our break in ER rotation, perhaps this slowness in Psychiatry rotation is just what we needed.

[kanmom51]

It's been over a week

And I'm still trying to digest and come to terms with it.

I know I said that I take comfort in them being together, and I got to say, that is a big big help in dealing with their departure, and yet, can't help but be sad and worry like a mom that just sent her kids off to the army.

Watching JM's live with JK's that followed (a few hours later and after their family dinner) was heart wrenching. JM struggling with his shaved hair was heartbreaking.

This clearly was not easy for them.

JM the next day (in the BTB).

I can't help but wonder, after the initial annoyance of getting a minute or a little more from the two's enlistment day, if the whole thing was just too emotional and more than what they themselves wanted to share publicly.

Again, seeing how JM is struggling, and JK knowing and comforting him. That look on JM's face when JK does that. Ugh, how I wish they didn't have to go through this. But they did. They are. And now it's time to come to terms with it.

I guess having lived it, done the army thing, gone through basic training and military service I have a little more insight as to what they will be going through, and that also gives me some comfort, because yes, it's going to be hard, both the physical and mental aspects of it. The structure, the loss of individuality, the harsh physical and mental training. But, a. they are 2 of the most driven people I have seen, a work ethic and a need to excel, and they will attack this (so to speak) no differently; b. they have been through so much getting to where they have gotten. Yes, the structure is a little different, but they are no strangers to being in a structured environment, told what to do, when to do it, how to do it. Basically, they are used to doing what they are told. Strenuous physical activity is no stranger to them as well. Experiencing struggles teaches you that you can prevail. Teaches you that you are strong enough to get through it. Teaches you that there is a light at the end of that tunnel. And knowing that, at times of hardship, can mean everything to the person going through that.

Their age, being mostly older than others enlisting (most do so at 18-21) has it's advantages and disadvantages. Advantages being having that insight and life experience that they have, especially starting their careers at such a young age. Disadvantage being that at this age they are all grown up, as in mostly know who they are, what they want to do with their life. Having to leave all of that at the door is not easy and takes adjusting to. But they are resilient. And their life experience and struggles they went through over the years will, as mentioned, definitley help them get through this as well.

For my sanity and mental well being I'm going to ignore the geo-political fuckery going on right now. Does willing things not to happen make them not happen? I'm going to go with yes on this. Don't you dare contradict me here. Let me live in my fantasy world at least on this one.

So yeah, it definitely won't be easy. Having each other's back there will definitley help, although having to keep their hands off each other in public will definitley be a challenge they will have to deal with. I digress. They will be ok. They have each other. They will get through this, and who knows, perhaps at some point (probably not basic training, cause that sucks) they might even enjoy their service (enjoy what they will be doing, feel satisfaction in their contribution to their country, who knows...).

And yet, knowing all of this, I'm still sad.

Because I already miss the shit out of them.

And it's kind of funny, because I know there is plenty of content coming up, including actual Jikook content, like just the two of them without the group as a buffer content, and that is definitely something to look forward to. And it's not like we were seeing them on a daily or even weekly basis before they enlisted (there were periods of time we were parched with them not to be seen or heard from for ages).

But this feels different. I guess knowing that even if they wanted to reach out, at the moment, they can't. Knowing that there isn't a chance of a JK restaurant visit popping up, or a surprise live makes it all so very real.

I'm not going to do the day counting. For me, that makes dealing with it harder. Maybe when we are down to two digits, definitely not before. I think I will just sit back, enjoy the new content they share with us, go through old content (there is so much out there, enough to definitely get me through the next 18 months, sob sob).

As for myself, well I'm not going anywhere.

Yes, I have something going on right now and am posting less often, but I'm still here, still around and will be posting and answering your messages.

We will all get through this together.