#but i asked everybody and they were fine

[m00ngbin]

I spent FOUR HOURS today baking and writing friend Valentines for people and they are going to like them or so help me god I will break down sobbing

[freebooter4ever]

ok im listening to the doc and wow this dude really needs to move on from the 80s and get a life... BUT also the doc is trying to make it seem like all teens in the 80s 'identified' with these characters? is that true for you guys? i never did. but i also didnt identify with clue*less or even vero*nica mars which was pretty solidly my era. the doc is trying to claim that this hegemony of 'identification' is a good thing and that the multiple options of today is making it harder for teens to relate to each other as a group. but the doc is saying this from the pov of a rich white dude. i would argue that today's much broader representation - watching a korean american girl starring in her own teen girl rom com where she is shown to look past the racism of the 80s movies in order to enjoy sixteen c*andles.... I think that is a million times better than what came before. the definition of who could tell stories in the 80s was so much more narrow, it was absurd. and to all the boys was blatantly critiquing that. it was supposed to be sad that lara jean is forced to endure stereotypes just to get her movie romance fix. it's also notable in that movie that lara jean identified most with books, where you could kind of imagine a main character however you wanted even if technically you knew they didnt look like you.

tldr my question to my other 30 somethings would be if 'br*at pack' was ever a bad thing in your lifetime and if you actually identified with these kids in the movies who seemed to have no direction or care in life beyond their tiny little suburban world. cause that was certainly never me as a teen lol. fascinating to watch and fun to imagine living as but not relatable.

[uncanny-tranny]

Hello!

I am just curious why you put an asterisk after trans men? I have never seen anyone do that before. I did try using Google and it gave me many different reasons so I was wondering what yours is? I apologize if I did not say this well, English is not my first language.

Thank you!

I have answered this before, but it all comes down to brevity. It is the acknowledgment that not only trans men will have related to that post. It just signals that if that post applies to you, you are included.

I prefer, generally, to put it after the gender simply because the trans umbrella is generally understood, so it seems superfluous (to me) to re-clarify that transness is a broad category.

[arthur-r]

people won’t stop FLIRTING when im just trying to EXIST IN A SPACE WITH THEM like please friend and roommate could you guys watch over the garden wall with me without like faking being jumpscared?? could we all just hangout without ignoring everything that i say but then laughing really loud when each other says the same exact thing.

[journey-to-the-attic]

As someone who lost energy for the NB grind... WTHeck is happening

it's the new pop quiz, which is about what is essentially the super bowl, except it's for fangol - which is just american football but with demons so it really is just demon super bowl (to separate the two, they've called it ultra bowl instead)

and here's another thing: the main conflict of the pop quiz centres around the loss of something called the Glorious Devil Ball, and can you guess how i read that the first time i saw it

[arcaneyouth]

i'm starting to think living with 5 other people may simply be a problem

[trashbaget]

[robocops-a-christ-allegory]

Thinking about Berserk again. I havent read any of the new chapters because Miura's death kind of got to me really bad so thinking about or talking about berserk at all just made me really depressed and I think I probably havent even looked at it since he passed (after I used to reread huge chunks of it like every week) but now its been like two years and Im thinking I should just accept it and give the new stuff a shot.

One thing I am always thinking about though is how Miura's death effected discussion around Berserk and how much it will continue to effect discussion. Like, I always felt Berserk never got enough criticism. You can search Berserk on here and find all my old posts complaining about how everybody was jumping the gun on calling it One Of The Greatest Manga Ever when it wasnt even done and at the time most people were convinced it hadnt been good since like what, conviction arc? And that was back before Kentaro Miura died and his death has only made the discussion even more like "Berserk is a beautiful wonderful masterpiece and anyone with problems doesnt GET IT".

So like I stopped reading under the idea that no matter what happened it wasnt gonna be what REALLY shouldve happened, now I think thats kind of unfair and maybe I should give it a shot, but I think that idea is gonna be influencing how people talk about a manga that was already being given alot of undue praise and adoration from people who seemed to mostly never have actually read it and had nothing more interesting to say about it beyond it being the manga that popularized the idea of a guy with a big big sword. I dunno.

[n4b3]

.

[feluka]

just lost about 15% of my coursework because nobody let me in their group and i wasnt allowed to make my project alone 🙃🙃

[thisiswhymp3]

EVERYBODY LIVES, ROSE. JUST THIS ONCE, EVERYBODY LIVES!!!!!!!!!

[ai-thne]

can't believe someone still has to say this but if you, a cis straight girl, fancy yourself for having so many friends who are gay men, but think that that makes you entitled to say the f slur and act weird around my partner and i (lesbians) when we're there talking to our mutual friend, you're a bigot in rainbow clothes.

[batmanisagatewaydrug]

I think a lot of what's currently informing my fellow white people curdling like milk and shitting their pants when asked to interrogate their relationship with rap is the way many people (especially well-meaning white people) still can't help but think of racism as something that you get accused of rather than something that influences the entire world in pernicious ways.

like, I think a lot of people currently posting the most cringe takes about rap right now would very much agree that Racism Is Bad and probably even acknowledge that rap has been and is still widely maligned and devalues for racist reasons.

but that last step, acknowledging that your personal tastes and interests are also influenced by systemic racism, is where a LOT of people stumble. it's very easy to assume that because you consider yourself against racism, then your tastes and interests cannot possibly be at all informed by racist. if you're a white American, that's simply extremely unlikely to be true.

speaking from personal experience, I had to Work to decenter whiteness in my media tastes. when I was like 19 I listened to a podcast where a white Jewish man talked about keeping a spreadsheet of the books he read to make sure he was reading a roughly equal number of men and women, and I started doing the same thing to track how many authors of color I was reading. at the time I took pride in my belief that I was reading diversely, but when the year ended I was shocked to discover that people of color had written barely a quarter of the books I'd read. I had been giving myself way too much credit while still unintentionally prioritizing white authors, because white authors were the ones I knew best. so I started making an extremely conscious effort to seek out books by authors of color, both fiction and nonfiction, that sounded like my kind of shit.

music was extremely similar. I grew up a little white girl in a very white city in a very white state; nobody was offering me an education in rap or r&b or soul or hip hop. as an young adult there were definitely some Black artists I liked, like Janelle Monáe, but I had to take the initiative of seeking out more artists to find out who I fuck with. you're not going to like everybody, which is fine, but are you even giving anyone a chance? are you even looking?

racism has roots everywhere, bro. it's not enough to just acknowledge it, you have to actively get digging.

[zephyrchama]

Do you think demons crack their joints?

It was a lazy, rainy evening in the Devildom. An oddly calm one. The residents of the House of Lamentation were gathered in the living room, mainly because that's where you were.

Beelzebub and Mammon were snacking and watching Leviathan play his handheld game. Asmodeus was browsing a magazine, Satan was browsing a book, and Lucifer was texting with Barbatos.

Belphegor had been dozing off on your shoulder for a while. It was hard to move under the demon's weight. You had been stuck in the same pose browsing your D.D.D. until he finally shifted, leaning back into the couch. You seized the opportunity to roll your shoulders and take a much needed stretch.

You lifted your arms. It felt great. Crack.

"What was that?" Satan asked, glancing up from his book.

"Beel probably sat on a chip," Mammon said. Levi snorted, too busy to take his eyes off the game but in agreement with Mammon for once.

"It wasn't me." Beelzebub stood up to prove his innocence, revealing no food under him.

"It was me," you said. "Just my back."

"Hon, what?" "Your what?" Asmodeus and Lucifer spoke at the same time, and both gave you a concerned look.

"My back? I just cracked it."

The demons sprung out of their seats like you had just cursed them. Levi's game system fell to the carpet. Since he was already standing, Beelzebub strode over and pulled the back of your shirt up, asking "does it hurt?"

Startled, you pulled the front of your shirt down for modesty. "Woah, hello? Excuse me? Uh, what?"

While everyone gathered to stare at your back, Belphegor was stirred awake. "What's going on?"

He went to lean on your shoulder again, but Mammon swatted him away. "Hey! Can't ya see they're injured?" he growled. Belphegor huffed at him, deciding instead to help hold your shirt up.

"Poor thing!" Asmo cooed. With one hand he grabbed your wrist, and with the other he made a peace sign. "Look at me, how many fingers am I holding up?"

"I'm fine. Everybody just chill." Despite your insistence, the panic had already set in and nobody was listening to you.

Leviathan was shaking. "T-that's not good, right? Humans aren't supposed to make those kind of sounds." He was covering his eyes with his hands squeamishly but peeking through his fingers to stare anyway. "A doctor! Are there any human doctors? Should we call Solomon?"

"Yes, somebody call Solomon," Lucifer commanded. "Where did the crack occur?" He started gently prodding around your spine, making you squirm.

Satan tried to bump Lucifer's hand away from you while placing himself in Lucifer's spot. "Can't you see they don't like that? You're making it worse."

"Deep breaths," Mammon instructed you, breathing deeply in and out. He seemed on the brink of hyperventilation himself.

Lucifer refused to budge, but Satan persisted. He was now also poking you. "The damage isn't visible yet, but there could be internal bleeding. You have to lay down."

Belphegor scooted over to make more room, despite your protest of "I'm not going to move, nothing is wrong."

Asmodeus managed to already get Solomon on the phone. You couldn't hear him over Asmo's worried shrieks but knew he had to be laughing. Solomon was not going to let you forget this incident.

Beel, Lucifer, and Satan moved to try and pick you up but enough was enough. "I said I'm fine!! Everybody stay!"

The seven went crashing to the floor, finally allowing you to cover up. "I am fine! I'm fine! See!" You stood up dramatically and grabbed Asmo's D.D.D. to apologize to a snickering Solomon.

The demons were annoyed and concerned as they tried to pick themselves up. "If you're so fine, then explain that noise," Satan said.

"Humans just do that from time to time."

[astoriachef]

Star Trek Series Rated Best to Worst

Strange New Worlds

The Original Series

Deep Space Nine

Lower Decks

Discovery

The Next Generation

Picard

The Animated Series

Voyager

Enterprise

Prodigy

Caveat: I at least kind of like all the Star Trek series. I’ve seen every episode of 1-8. 9-11 just never clicked enough to be essential viewing. There are no bad Star Trek series, only bad Star Trek Movies.

[deadsetobsessions]

Hera stood, waiting for her turn at last. The Queen of the Greek Pantheon traced the lines of neon green, its light reflecting against her true form in a soothing way. She’s no stranger to patience, to waiting. But there were little of those that had the gall to make her wait, and even smaller of that number that she would tolerate such behavior. Regardless, this was the one being she could not afford to offend and so, she waits. Her many forms, her divine self, perceived the room and compared it to her own halls of residence.

Olympus was much more intricate, carved of noble marble and inlaid with countless of priceless metals and gems and divinity. Twelve seats of power atop an engineering wonder, halls adorned with the brightest of the original flames, an hearth that was roaring at Hesta’s skillful hands.

In comparison, this throne room had been changed much since she was last here. Gone were the spikes of terror and screams of the damned. Now… it looked like the most bare throne room she’d ever bore witness to.

And yet, as she waited for the Boy King, Hera could feel the subtle thrum of impossible power. The new king did not flare his will and might like the previous tyrant, and for that, Hera approved. She has had quite enough of living with and under tyrants who cared only for themselves… and their bed achievements whilst failing spectacularly in their marital roles. Zeus was not a good life partner and Hera regretted ever saying yes to him many times in her immortal life. And yet… she loved him still.

The doors opened, and a small figure floated in, flanked by the previous King’s Knight. Perhaps that is what makes this Boy King so dangerous, Hera thought as she dipped into a bow, because he can turn the loyalest to his side.

“Your Majesty,” she greeted, in ghost speak.

“Heya, Hera!” The Boy King greeted her back, before waving the Knight away. Hera marveled, a bit, at the sheer confidence he had to dismiss his knight in her presence. Even the last king kept the knights around to ensure his power was always in display, always unchallengeable. The Boy King could destroy her with a snap of a finger and he knows it. He knows that she knows it.

“What did you need?” The Boy King asked, grin still on place as he floated to her instead of seating himself on his throne. Hera masked the bit of confusion she felt in pursuit of her goal.

“I have come here to ask of you a favor,” she began. “I am aware that… you are fond of this, the earth in which I reside in?”

Hera carefully picked her word. Everybody knows that the new King Phantom had laid claim to not only the Infinite Realms as is normal of his station, but an entire Earth as his haunt. He had the power to do so, she could finally see, now that she was standing before him. It would not do for Hera to get her strings cut because she claimed what is his.

“Sure. Why?” The Boy King tilted his head, narrowing that predator green upon her true form.

“Do you know of the Justice League, my lord?”

“Phantom’s fine,” he waved a hand. “And yeah, sure do! Why?”

Hera tilted her many forms in acknowledgement of the command. She bowed.

“My daughter, of a sort, is Diana Prince. Wonder Woman. She is… in grave danger. We can not exert our influence over a land that does not have our history. I can not interfere and aid her.”

“Oh, you want me to help her?” His tone was exasperated, and Hera spoke even more carefully in fear of offending him.

“Yes, if it pleases you. And it would be most gracious of you should Your Majesty have time to watch over her. I fear the danger will not leave her so quickly.”

There was a brief period of silence before King Phantom sighed. “And if it does not please me to do so?”

Hera looked up and locked gazes with evaluating green. “Then I am afraid I will be breaking a fair bit of cosmic law, King Phantom.”

He laughed. “Okay, yeah, I’ll check up on Wonder Woman.”

Hera blinked her many eyes, peacock feathers spreading in shock at how easily he allowed her favors. She did not even have to beg.

King Phantom turned to leave before pausing. “Hera, if you need help, just ask. Preferably without beating around the bushes next time. Also, Pandora misses you. You might want to hang around for tea later.”

Hera regarded him with the might of her divinity, which was but hardly a spec of his own kindness. The last one had not had her respect. Fear, yes. But never respect But this one…

“Yes, my King.”

“It’s just Phantom.” He shot back as he left, the Knight returning to his side once more.

Hera transformed into a more mortal form. She had not seen Pandora in a long time, the young woman had made quite an impression on her. Perhaps her old friend could be convinced in helping her punch Zeus and ruin her beloved husband’s day. Hera hummed, the green that used to flicker acidly against her divine form now only soothed. A reflection of its owner.

King Phantom is worthy of her regard.

——

Holy shit, a goddess asked him to check on the Justice League! She was super weird about it and talked in a really old way of speaking, but Danny hadn’t had anything to do for the past few days while entering the zone for his annual check up.

Danny waved away Fright Knight and dived into the portal that would take him directly to the Justice League and Diana!

He floated down from the portal, blinking at group of disheveled and injured superheroes surrounded by a group of demons. Belial?

“King Phantom.” Belial rumbled. Danny waved, not noticing the standstill his presence forced.

“Shite.” The British man cursed, drawing on his magic once more.

“King Phantom?” Diana Prince, Wonder Woman, said quizzically.

“Who?” Batman, Batman! That’s actually Batman, rumbled.

“High King of the Infinite Realms. We’re buggered if he decides to help Belial.”

“Wait, like the god of gods, that King Phantom?” Captain Marvel asked. Ancients, why are all of them electrical based? Danny hates electricity.

Danny floated closer to them, grinning in a friendly way before frowning as they tensed up.

“King Phantom. May I ask why you have graced us with your presence, my King?”

“Hey, Wonder Woman! Your mom asked me to babysit you!” He grinned, sharp and mischievous.

“What…?” The Flash asked, zipping to their side. “Her mom? Queen Hippolyta?”

“No, Hera,” Danny said, and watched Wonder Woman straighten at his words.

“The Goddess Hera.”

“Yep!” Danny rocked back on his suddenly formed legs instead of the whisp of a tail he usually kept in the Zone. He was also still floating. Danny sent a wave of ice and froze the rest of the demons in one fell swoop.

“The rest of you can take care of clean up, yes? Diana has to get some snacks, dinner, and then go to bed.” He pushed gently at Diana’s shoulders, nudging her towards the plane. She went willingly, respectful but amused.

——

Bruce, intellectually knowing that’s a king but only seeing a superhero teenager: *fills out mental adoption paperwork*

——

Hera, a goddess, terrified of misspeaking and dying as a result: he’s so strong even though he’s young omg powerful and could end my immortal existence

Danny, an unserious king: golly gee why is she speaking like a Shakespeare novel

——

Hera, thinking Danny’s gonna be dignified: pls watch over my daughter

Danny, who has a clone he sees as a daughter and therefore has no issues babysitting a grown woman: lol snacks, dinner, bedtime

Diana:… usually I’m on the other spectrum of this but it’s from a higher up so… okay?

——

Danny, terrifying gods and ancients: they’re my friends! The power of friendship!