#CONSCIOUS CLUB

[bspoquemagazine]

SEEK RECEPTION - new Hood, Location, Konzept & Zeitrahmen

[pondhue]

oh pondue where art thou have gone

[tempestmothstorm]

actually can we talk about this what do you mean you hear the voices of your dead friends

you cant just stop it there wtf are they saying to you

[circasoleil]

New « Draw your OCs » but it’s just me at my last drag show (with a copious amount of nasal spray used to keep myself safer!)

[screechingcheesecakecheesecake]

thinking about how Leelathae's mom described the Pastel Siblings as "grandchildren born from love" makes me ksfjskd because really its so undeniable on how much Leelathae and Jack loved each other.

Leelathae received nothing but love from Jack even if others mistreated her. The fact that because Leelathae loved Jack so much that she was willing to leave him in order to not tarnish his lineage and have her children receive hatred for being born. The fact that Jack loved Leelathae so much that he chose her over everyone to the point that he for years put his own daughters hidden because he was desperate to fulfill her dying wishes as it was her last request to him.

Leelathae loved Jack and their children so much that she wasn't willing to die and without seeing how they'll grow up as that she made a reckless request to a witch for them.

Like, in this story where we had families where a father is abusive, or a daughter was thrown out because of her curse, or a daughter who was locked up because of her curse, heck, even a family where murdering each other is a norm we literally have a family that loved each other so much.

Also, I love that, even though Leelathae ended up following the tragic story that the tale said. Unlike the mermaid, she didn't die unloved. She had so much love for others and much love from those who loved her that she wasn't willing to let her story end in a tragedy for her them.

[aw4rmplace]

Whatever

[mensministry]

"Oceaya,"

Modular, transformable, multi-purpose, floating venue and will be made from eco-conscious materials and will implement sustainable practices. 

Conceptualised by Waterstudio.NL, leading engineers at MEYER Floating Solutions and Prospect Design International

[jacksprostate]

Before Project Mayhem, before fight club, before Marla, before Tyler — there is still one sad sack of shit.

.

.

The hard part about work trips isn't making the plane or seeing another family of five burnt into their leather seats. It's missing support groups.

See, if you're lucky, the company will send you out to a major city. Cities are great. A little advanced work to find a slightly below average church or library, you're set each night you're there.

It's a bit of novelty, getting to be a new face all at once. People assume you've just been diagnosed. It's never the failed treatments, the degradation of their life and everyone in it, the continuous experience of knowingly dying — none of those things are the worst thing that happens to you.

It's finding out they will.

So people cry. They crowd around, I sob like I've been told I've got stage four colon cancer and three weeks to live. We all cry. I sleep soundly on the plane back or in the nice, four star hotel my company provides me.

Flying out to a small town, though. I'll be awake enough to be hallucinating by the time I get back for Remaining Men Together. The only mercy is that the next time I show for all the groups I missed, I can see who thought I died. I get to be resurrected.

The other part about small towns, you have to take a second, shitter plane to a local airfield, or you have to take a rental car. One of the most popular rental cars available right now, it'll light itself on fire if you use the cruise control at the wrong time. I know this because I sat next to another guy with my job, who worked for a different company, and he said I'll show you mine if you show me yours. So I told him about the faulty airbags, and he told me about the overheating switch.

I prefer to avoid driving.

All the rental place at the airport has left for me, it's one of those flaming cars. I use cruise control. If I don't, one of my narcoleptic spells will send me into the Jersey barrier.

When you drive into these small towns, you have to try to pay attention, or you'll end up a county over talking about the wrong wreck. They're otherwise interchangeable, but the miles on your rental car won't line up and those are the type of records that might get pulled out when the company is finally sued for the big one ten years down the line.

As a result, I see the same decor on the way in every time. Meth lab. Abandoned homes. Garbage fire. Classic Americana. There is no four star hotel here; I sleep the same.

The only reason I've been brought out here is because the poor shithead who drove his truck into the ditch drunk was driving my company's flagship vehicle. It loses power steering if the car jostles the right way going above 55 miles per hour. I've been told to keep track of potential incidents and make sure the company can firmly claim it's not at fault.

We've had this problem for decades, and we will for many more. Sometimes, everything is falling apart.

The job is simple, and I only get tempted by the town's blatant opioid addiction for a day and night. Painkillers would probably make me sleep. The thing about being a recall campaign organizer, though, is like recognizes like. It's not only other Compliance and Liability guys who tell you company secrets while sharing the aisle in business class.

When I'm finally back in my own town, after my own support groups, after crying my eyes out into Bob's meaty middle — I pick up my mail. There's the newest IKEA magazine. Half of it looks like shit. The type of thing you'd only see in some curated art deco, modernist, post-modern traditionalist bohemian minimalist apartment.

I have to have it.

I go to sleep, hard, like God himself tucked me in. I sleep with my wallet net four hundred heavier, because even an IKEA spree tends not to outweigh a work trip. I sleep, with my called in IKEA goods only two short weeks away, my job well done, and I know, my life is complete.

[riderofthemist]

On my way to ruin my mother's holidays by wearing a mask... At least, try to wear one.

Otherwise, Germany is awesome. I saw stickers saying to mask up. 💪

[butterscotch-brigade]

look i agree that the whole brony era of the internet was horrific and traumatizing for many (myself included) and while im glad that it has resulted in more ppl becoming aware of creeps in kids spaces i think it has also made a lot of u WAY too harsh toward adults who like kids media bc i saw someone on twitter say it was "invading kids spaces" for adults to go to an all-ages warrior cats themed event

[bspoquemagazine]

BFW | Berlin fashion Week: SEEK Spring/Summer 2025 Recap

[existential-labrador]

If you’re interested in learning to repair your clothes, this beautiful book on visible mending is out 23rd May and available for pre-order now here 😍

And you can find Slow Stitch Club here

[myinterestsvary-writes]

If the beach episode of Ouran must be rewritten, I’d prefer to keep the subplot of the men being assholes and trying to find out what she’s afraid of, her finding out about it and scaring one of them instead, then those outsiders coming in to harass the girls and Haruhi witnesses it so she comes to their rescue by calling to their attention in a less antagonistic way (by not agitating the hostiles by throwing stuff at them). She uses her wits to effectively talk down the outsiders and to unknowingly make time for the others to come but as soon as the boys arrive to help she tells them that she can handle it but the outsiders get pissed off all over again at the sight of more people. One of the girls get thrown off the cliff and Haruhi immediately jumps in after her while the boys get angry and start fucking them up while Tamaki begins panicking over Haruhi’s actions.

Haruhi rescues the girl despite not being a very strong swimmer. Mori and Tamaki helps them back to shore and everybody asks them if they’re alright. They then praise her for her actions and Tamaki then says, “why didn’t you call for us sooner? That was a very dangerous situation for a girl like you to be in.”

That is when she reaffirms her views on gender, saying, “it doesn’t matter about me being a girl. I was there, I had to do something.”

Tamaki asks her if things had escalated, what would she have done? Does she know martial arts? Can her swimming skills help her in an emergency?

She admits to not knowing martial arts, and it’s the reason why she approached the situation the way she had but Haruhi also motions to the girl she had rescued responding to his second question, saying they were strong enough to save two people so she knows she’s good enough. Tamaki angrily counters that it was because everyone else was there to help her to shore, not because she’s a good swimmer. He doesn’t like how nonchalant she’s being about this. Defensively at his tone, she tells him that she didn’t need their help and if anything, the rest of the Host Club coming in only made it worse as the men were calming down before. She then angrily walks off. The twins berate him for picking a fight with her, laughing at his instant misery.

The dinner scene happens, Haruhi is wearing a dress because of her father and she’s also turned back on the lights at Kyoya’s estate after a blackout. All by herself. The boys welcome her for dinner and Tamaki is hesitant to say anything to her but Haruhi greets him, making him blush. He then offers to help her with the crab legs as they’re not easy to open but he’s interrupted by her easily snapping them in half and munching down on them repeatedly. He grows more and more taken aback with each crab leg and doesn’t comment on how much she eats and instead gets upset at her demeanour, not understanding it. He’s escorted out to his room by Kyoya.

Haruhi notices his departure and asks what’s up with him. The twins ask her if she thought she might’ve been a little arrogant out there and Haruhi being oblivious thinks of course not, she was doing the right thing and had it under control. Honey comes in and says something wise about martial arts and the beauty of working in sync with your fellow fighter. Haruhi considers the proverb, reflecting on her actions and how it affected everyone. Noticing this, they group embrace her, telling her how much they admire her and that they weren’t worried at all. That she belongs to them as a fellow Host Club member. Haruhi grows sick and makes it to Tamaki’s room to expel her food, she’s upset over doing that.

“Are you alright?” Tamaki asks.

Haruhi nods and immediately cuts to apologizing for her arrogance. Tamaki dismisses the apology, apologizing himself for what he said to her and admitting to worrying about her. Haruhi is confused because everyone else said that they weren’t. He goes on to say he didn’t know what to do when he saw her jump in after the girl, feeling useless. Haruhi reassures him and then looks out the window to see rain starting to drizzle onto the glass. ‘Is there going to be a thunderstorm?’ Perceptively, she bids him a good night and just as she turns towards the door, thunder claps, Haruhi seeing the telltale white light surround her silhouette. She shudders in fear and is momentarily paralyzed before she turns to face him with tears in her eyes. Tamaki notices this and reaches out for her before another thundering sound erupts, Haruhi screaming and making her way towards the closet but Tamaki stops her, pulling her in for a hug. He vocalizes his realization of why she became so independent, reveling in the idea of finding her weakness but showing compassion for it because of the explanation for it. This contrasts the boys’, including Tamaki’s, behaviour in the beginning. Tamaki, who at first didn’t like the idea but selfishly figured he could grow closer to her through it and also get some nice photos of her, tells her that he’ll always be there for her even when she thinks she doesn’t need it. Haruhi protests at this but then more thundering silences her.

The rest of the episode plays out in its original format.

[j-esbian]

i lost the post but i saw someone talking about how some of y’all act like being weird is a choice and like. YEAHHHHHHH.

that’s fine, it might be for you. but i just live like this and don’t know any other way. like yeah i’ve worked customer service, i can do innocuous small talk, but anything beyond that, i don’t understand what i’m missing. and it’s frustrating to see the tonal disconnect especially from people who are like “uwu embrace weirdness!!” where they’re like. dressing quirky and talking about bugs and listening to obscure music and eschewing small talk to ask Deep Questions on the first date and unlearning their tendency to not infodump. and generally have an idea of what Weirdness is supposed to look like. idk man some of us wake up and get out of bed and can’t figure out why the rest of their coworkers chitchat with each other but when they join the conversation it dies.

weirdness is value neutral. let’s stop trying to turn it into a badge because quite frankly, it’s not a choice for everyone. it’s fucking exhausting to never be on the same wavelength as other people and they’re going to react the way they do and label you the way they will without any conscious actions on your end. it’s difficult to talk about this without feeling like you’ll be dismissed as immature, a teenager whining “no one understands me” but the thing is. sometimes you don’t grow out of feeling alone and different, and there’s no good way to talk about it without feeling like people will think you’re just fishing for pity.